A Very Good Reason

Disclaimer: However much I may desire to, I own neither these nor any other characters belonging to J. K. Rowling. Also, I am amassing no great piles of wealth from this humble work of fan fiction. Alas.

This could have been their hundredth meeting, or the thousandth. By this point he wasn’t counting, but each and every time he could swear it was his first. Waiting naked on the bed, he felt attuned to every slight draft, the air playing along his exposed skin and causing him to shiver. He took a few deep breaths and continued waiting, straining his ears to hear his lover’s steps a moment sooner.

His anticipation grew with every heartbeat, and his heart beat faster as time dragged on, slowly, painfully. He could hear it pounding in his ears, feel it pulsing in his chest. He willed himself to move, to run away and never come again. Why should he do this? Why this one of all people? It was wrong of him to stay, but yet he stayed on, bound to the bed by chains that were neither physical nor magical. As if his longing were made corporeal, he heard a hand on the door. His heart stopped.

The door closed quietly behind the intruder, and footsteps made their way toward the bedroom. Breathless, he gripped the sheets tighter and allowed a smile to creep across his lips. Inwardly he cursed himself, but frenzied by the thought of what was to come, he couldn’t manage to care all that much. The doorway became darkened, and he braced himself further. The shadowy figure entered the room and paused.

“Why do you return here?” asked its wonderfully silky voice, the voice of angels, and he might well have come that very moment. “Why can’t you settle down with one of those bloody Gryffindor brats and leave me be?”

He rose from the bed and moved to the other man, embracing him and resting his head on his shoulder. He moved his mouth to his ear.

“Because I love you. That’s why.”

He whispered a word and the robes covering the tall, pale man in front of him disappeared, leaving his bare skin exposed. He quickly moved to kiss him, starting at his lips and moving down his neck, down his chest, stopping to lick at his nipples, then finally he knelt himself down and aligned himself with the erect cock in front of him.

The man leaned back, the wall keeping him on his feet as the boy in front of him moved closer, a breath exhaled onto him eliciting a shiver and a soft moan. He grasped his member firmly, stroked it once, twice, then finally plunged forward and took him into his mouth. He grazed his teeth along the shaft and flicked the head with his tongue, driving the man mad with pleasure. He engulfed him again and was met with a gentle thrusting in return, pushing down his throat. He set a slow pace, rocking back and forth, his hands roaming up and down his body. Both their minds were lost to the moment, filled with nothing but the thought of one another and ignorant to the rest of the world. The man was on edge, and agonizingly forced himself to clutch at the boy’s hair and push him away.

The boy looked quizzically at him, but was quickly reassured as he was dragged somewhat forcefully to the bed, and thrown onto his back. He nearly giggled with delight as the man shuffled toward him on his knees, and raised his legs up, resting them on his shoulders. The usually dour man smiled himself, as he picked up his wand from the bedside table, pointed it downward and invoked a handy spell he’d learned years ago, to cause lubrication in varying degrees. This night, he made it subtler than usual, made it to cause more friction, and just a little more pain.

Lining himself up, he stared at the boy in front of him, looked into his eyes. There he saw something that moved him, one of the few things in the world that still could: a look of pure, innocent love. He nodded, and the boy nodded in return, then he began to push forward, very slowly, into the resistance. It was exceptionally tight around him, and seeing a look of enthusiastic encouragement on the face in front of him, he thrust his full length forward, causing both of them to gasp loudly. He grabbed the boy’s cock and began to stroke him in time with his thrusts forward, a slow, steady pace that became quicker as they lost themselves further and further into the pleasure of it.

The boy whimpered in ecstasy as the man plowed furiously into him, wondrous sensations pulsing through his body. He slowed slightly, and came to a stop. Whispering what may have been an “I love you”, but might have been anything else at the time, he put all of himself into one last push and they both came then, screaming into the soundproof walls of the man’s bedchamber. The moment ended, and the man rolled onto his back. The boy whispered his own “I love you”, but it was met with silence.

Harry Potter would never have thought even a year ago he would spend his nights like this, waiting in agony for meetings he knew he shouldn’t have at all. Betraying his House, his friends, powerless against his desire, he succumbed to the pleasure again and again, coming back impulsively to their meeting place and quite literally sleeping with the enemy. He had no clue why he did it, but he did anyway. Still, in the moments after the rush, lying there, even if his lover was unresponsive, he could swear he had a very good reason.

----- End -----

So that\'s my first shot at any kind of fiction, hope it wasn\'t too terribly bad =/
Review if you would be so kind!