Like It Rough

Like It Rough

 

Disclaimer: Harry Potter, characters, names and indicia are trademarks and
copyright to Warner Brothers and JK Rowling. All events and actions contained
here wn arn are fictional works of the author herself, unless otherwise stated;
this is purely in the author’s mind.

 

Warnings: This story will contain SLASH, which means a male/male pairing. If
this offends you, please read no further. This is a SMUT, and has
detailed descriptions of sexual situations. If this kind of thing does not
float your boat, then please don’t read it!! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. The
author accepts no responsibility should this fic offend anyone’s ideals.

 

Pairings: Harry/Draco…well, Draco/Harry. It’s dom!Draco

 

Rating: NC-17

 

A/N:
This fic is dedicated to Christine….because she wanted some smut and was
feeling unloved!! S’ok darling…I love you! This is also my first piece of smut
ever so please be nice! All comments and constructive criticism is welcomed!
Flames will be used to melt chocolate to be used as body paint!

 

~*Dea*~

 

Like It
Rough

 

He stepped into the room, turning to close
the door, but hadn’t managed to do so before he was slammed painfully into it,
making the door crash shut; a firm body pinning into place.

 

“Took your sweet time, didn’t you, Potter?”
A voice hissed in his ears, followed by the descent of hot lips, trailing
almost painful kisses and nips down his neck, not giving him a chance to reply.

 

He couldn’t suppress the moan that slipped
passed his lips as his lover pulled at his hair, exposing more of his throat, and
bit down hard, claiming him.

 

“Harry?” Hermione’s concerned voice floated
through the door. “Are you all right?”

 

“Yeah,” he called back, hoarsely. “I’m
fine, ‘Mione.” He barely managed to keep his voice steady as the body behind
him shifted, grinding an obvious erection into his backside.

 

“Why did it take so long to get here,
Potter?”

 

“I’m sorry,” he panted his reply.
“Christophe –”

 

The other boy actually growled, pulling
Harry around to face him. “What about the fucking French ponce? I’ll kill him
if he fucking touched you. You’re mine, Potter, goddamit; you are mine.”

 

“I’m yours, Draco,” Harry whimpered as
Draco pulled away slightly to stare into his eyes. “Only yours, love.” His cock
twitched slightly as he saw the smouldering possessiveness with in storm grey
eyes of the blond-haired boy; grey eyes that were dark with lust.

 

“As it should be,” was the other boy’s
cryptic reply before capturing the brunette’s lips in a surprisingly gentle
kiss; a kiss as gentle as his earlier actions had been rough.

 

Soon the nature of the kiss changed. The
gentle, loving caresses were discarded in favour of heated and needy kisses,
fuelly gry growing arousals. Draco’s tongue ran over the Gryffindor’s lips,
seeking permission to explore and reacquaint itself with its partner, and was
granted the way. Their tongues duelled each other for dominance of the kiss as
they slid over and around each other with practiced ease.

 

Draco’s hands began to fumble with his
lover’s buttons eager to get to the bear skin underneath. Impatiently, he
tugged the shirt open and tossed it aside, revelling in the feel of his lovers
muscles rippling under his ministrations. Harry moaned again, the sound heading
straight to his groin.

 

Harry’s hands tugged impatiently at his
shirt, lifting it over his head and groaning in pleasure as hot skin met hot
skin. After that, the rest of their clothes came off in quick succession, each
one discarded between feverish kisses.

 

Even thought they were both naked, the
positions had not changed, but the sounds and whimpers were getting louder and
louder.

 

“Silencing Charm,” Harry panted, the
instant his lips were free.

 

Draco nodded, moving away to retrieve his
wand from his pile of clothing. “Silenci – OH!” He looked down to find his
boyfriend’s hand grasping his cock firmly and stoking it expertly.

 

“Harry, love, don’t.” The tone was
unmistakably commanding and the brunette ceased all action completely.

 

Draco deftly caught both his lover’s hands
and pinned them to the door again. “I didn’t say you could touch me, did I,
Harry?” The Gryffindor shook his head.

 

Agonisingly slowly, the blond moved to kiss
the other boy at a leisurely pace, trailing slowly and steadily lower and
lower. He paused to nuzzle at the crook of Harry’s neck, delighting in the
whimpers of pleasure he was emitting before moving on. Tantalisingly slowly, he
let his tongue bathe on of Harry’s nipples as his hand tweaked and pinched at
the other, eliciting a groan from the body that was almost wreathing with
bliss.

 

After giving the other nipple the same
treatment, he continued his trail downwards, disregarding the almost incoherent
whimpers for him to go faster. Without warning, he plunged his tongue deep into
the other boy’s navel, educing a sharp gasp. He continued to thrust his tongue
in and out, mimicking pleasures still untouched. Harry was all but begging him
to take it, let him touch him…anything other than just stand there. Draco
carried on, undaunted, ghosting over the weeping erection instead to kiss the
inner his inner thighs.

 

“Please, Draco. Please, let me touch
you…” Draco cut off any protest that was spilling forth from those lips with a
bruising kiss.

 

“Fine, Harry. Don’t move,” he purred before
walking over to their pile of clothing and bending down in a way he knew would
give Harry a good view of his arse. Judging by the sounds from behind him,
Harry’s attention was still on him. He picked up his tie and returned to
Harry’s side, looping it around his neck.

 

“On your knees, Harry,” he ordered and his
lover scrambled to comply.

 

He pulled the end of the silk tie that was
currently around the Gryffindor’s neck through his own legs as Harry took him
into his mouth. He moaned in bliss as he felt Harry’s velvety heat surround his
member and, as soon the other boy had controlled his gag-reflex and
deep-throated him, he began to thrust, using the tie to control the pace.
Harry, for his part, submitted to Draco’s every wish, never once trying to
fight the blond. Draco grew fully hard watching the mop of black hair bobbing
backwards and forwards, along with the feel of Harry’s talented mouth doing
wonders to his prick.

 

Reluctantly, he withdrew from the warm
mouth. Harry looked up at him, confused. Draco gave no explanation, only a
simple, “Stay there, dear heart, and don’t move.”

 

Circling the boy, Draco kneeled down beside
Harry and ran the length of the silk tie that wasn’t around the other boy’s
neck through his crack, making Harry moan throatily. He began to slowly to run
his hands over his arse, gently, almost fleetingly. Harry’s whimpers were
getting louder and louder, torn between begging Draco to stop teasing him and
not to stop – never to stop.

 

Draco increased the pressure gradually,
rubbing small circles, then teasing the hole, but never breaking through the
ring of muscle there.

 

“Draco,” was Harry’s exasperated groan.

 

Draco’s complete weight and warmth
disappeared for a second, making Harry mew at the lost of his blond companion,
as he went to find the small tube of lubricant. A few seconds later, a slick
digit was inserted, making Harry moan from the pit of his stomach. His own
weeping head was practically begging foe attention, as was Harry’s but he
ignored them, instead slipping in a second finger. Harry was almost sobbing
now, and crying out slightly each time Draco scissored his fingers. He withdrew
both fingers, replacing them with his tongue.

 

Harry had apparently thought he was through
with foreplay.

 

“Draco, PLEASE!”

 

“What do you want, Harry? Tell me what you
want, love.”

 

“You, Draco,” he shouted. “I want you!”

 

“Where do you want me, love,” Draco purred,
contrasting with Harry’s shouting.

 

“Stop tea me me and FUCK ME ALREADY!”
Harry screamed, frustrated.

 

With one fluid movement, Draco had sat up,
positioned himself and buried himself to the hilt. They gasped in unison at the
pleasure of filling and being filled.

 

Harry didn’t need long to adjust to the
intrusion and was soon shifting, eliciting a moan from the blond. Getting the
hint, Draco began a slow rhythmical fucking, pulling almost all the way out
before thrusting back in.

 

On the second or third thrust, he found
Harry’s prostrate, causing the smaller boy to buck up under him, his arse
muscles involuntarily clenching, causing a shiver of pure pleasure to run down
his spine. Soon, moans and groans were filling the room, undistinguishable as
to which of the young men they were coming from. Draco was hitting the
Gryffindor’s prostrate every time and, with the amount of foreplay they had
had, Draco knew they were both close.

 

He sped up, Harry meeting him thrust for
thrust, and reached around the sweat-slicked body in front of him to grasp the
other boy’s cock. He ran his thumb over the tip, smearing the pearly drop of pre-come along the rest of his lover’s member,
making it slick as he pumped him.

 

The blond dropped a kiss onto Harry’s
shoulder before whispering silkily and breathlessly in his ear.

 

“Come for me, Harry.”

 

As if he had been given permission, Harry’s
body convulsed and shuddered as he let orgasm wash over him, spraying his seed
over the Slytherins hands. The clenching of Harry’s muscles triggered Draco’s
own impending orgasm, sending them both into a world of bliss and ecstasy, each
crying out the other’s name.

 

As awareness slowly returned, Draco pulled
out of the younger boy, Harry whimpering at the loss, and wrapped him up in a
secure embrace. He managed to drag down the duvet from the bed and tucked it
snugly around them both before drifting off to sleep, smiling contently as he
felt the form in his arms turn to nuzzle his neck.

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

Draco was suspicious as soon as he walked
into the breakfast room of the hotel they were staying in for the international
conference they were currently attending. He was right to be.

 

As soon as he sat down at the table, Blaise
immediately struck up conversation.

 

“Where were you last night, Draco?” His
reply was to shrug indifferently. “Who was the lucky person?” God, he was
persistent this morning wasn’t he? He shrugged again. “Well, whoever it is must
be good…you have a decidedly ‘well-fucked’ look about you.”

 

Harry chose that moment to enter the room.
Approaching the table, he nodded slightly to all the occupants before sitting
himself down gingerly.

 

“Harry, who was in your room last
night…God, who knew you made so much noise! Whoever it was must have been good…or
it must have been damn…” Ron teased good-naturedly, but seemed to trail
off towards the end. Harry being Harry blushed and, to his absolute horror, so
did he…

 

Draco suppressed a groan as he saw Weasley
look between Harry and him, comprehension dawning on his features. He now
looked vaguely green.

 

“Harry, tell me you didn’t…you aren’t…you…Malfoy?!”
The whole table had, by this time, come to the same conclusion.

 

Draco recovered quickly, in an attempt to
save his lover who was unsuccessfully trying to hide under the table…or maybe
drown himself in his cereal.

 

“That means you complimented me…tough luck
if you wanted a go then, I don’t like redheads. Sorry Weasley!”

 

“Oh shit,” was Draco’s last thought before
he and Harry simultaneously bolted for the door as Ron saw red, both because
his best friend was sleeping with his worse enemy…and his enemy had just
twisted his words…again. Harry and Draco were planning to find somewhere to
hide for a very long time…and maybe even get something out of it, they decided,
catching each other’s eyes with a grin. They changed courses and headed for the
nearest hotel.

 

Finite Incantatum