Crap!

Title: Crap!
Author: Stray
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: our friendly neighbourhood HP/DM
Warnings: slash, scat, semi-public, penetration, rimming, bad taste for underwear, and it could be taken underage, though age isn’t mentioned.
Feedback: NO WAY! I DON’T WANT ANY, AND I CAN’T THINK WHY ANY AUTHOR WOULD WANT TO READ OTHER PEOPLE’S INECESSANT BABBLING ABOUT THEIR FIC! sorry, Tourret Syndrome…
Archive: LJ only
Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns the world. Except for the smell, ‘cos that’s mine.
Summary: Borrowing Gene "spaf" Spafford’s words: this fic is “…like a herd of performing elephants with diarrhea -- massive, difficult to redirect, awe-inspiring, entertaining, and a source of mind-boggling amounts of excrement when you least expect it."
Word Count: 5200
Beta: Lani, who has my ethernal gratitude.

Their first time? Harry still shuddered at the memory - and not just because it was the most dangerous thing they had ever done, but because it still got him an instant hard-on after all those years. They could have been discovered and Harry didn't even want to think about what the world would have had to say about what they had been getting on. In the halls of Hogwarts, scant twenty minutes before classes ended? And so close to Slytherin territory and the Potions lab? They had exceptional luck that day.

They had been already in a tentative relationship – sort of - that progressed slowly and concentrated more on the mutual sexual gratification than the spiritual connection. Both had been reluctant to open up, even though the fact that they were in a relationship did mean that they had already showed a part of their personality that no one else apart from their partner got to see. Neither of them had told about his sexual preferences to anyone else. They had admitted to each other - and themselves - that they were attracted to each other, even though they were of the same sex. That had already seemed a rather big step.

Their relationship was better than any previous one Harry had been involved in. He knew that it was because Draco understood him on a level no one else did – even if they weren’t speaking about things like that. But still, it was like something was amiss. Something obscure and indeterminable that remained, as of then, unspecified.

It started as a ‘normal’ potions mishap - if it counted as normal for someone to have put a Puking Pastille into Malfoy's Spell Reversal Potion just before he was about to test it. Yes, Harry still called him 'Malfoy' in class and everywhere else where they weren't the only two people present. Because Malfoy was so different from the one he had known as 'Draco'; even his looks were harder along the eyes and more closed up.

Anyhow, the 'accident' happened – the Pastille got into the potion. It was a draft used to relieve nasty curses that didn't have a counter curse, but the Pastille together with the reversal potion acted as a very strong and potent purgative.

Not one minute later than Malfoy had drunk the potion, there was a noise as if the earth itself was rumbling, and it came from Malfoy's stomach. Harry looked at him with surprise, and saw his look turn panicked. He clutched to his stomach and sprinted out of the classroom with a barely legible apology towards Snape. As Malfoy was always the one who had finished his brewing long before class end - even Hermione needed all the time she could get to obtain her level - everyone else was still occupied with stirring their cauldron and chopping ingredients in a mad rush.

Snape cast one look at Harry's work, and because it looked like this time he had actually succeeded to present a somewhat decent result, he gave him a nasty sneer and sent him after Malfoy to make it sure he was all right, saying that his partner would finish his potion. Harry gave Gregory Goyle a glance, who looked up and reciprocated it with a half-apologetic look, knowing that he would blotch it up, just like his own work. Crabbe and Goyle had somehow caught up on the change in the relationship between Harry and Malfoy (Draco) and started to behave... friendlier towards him. Not overly friendly, mind you, they just weren't cracking their fingers every time they saw him and didn't try to trip him in the corridors.

Harry didn't need to ask Hermione to pack his things and take them with her for him, she knew the routine already. So he didn't even look at her, as he didn't want to distract her while she had to concentrate on her brewing. He had left with Snape looking at him and urging him to find Malfoy.

Harry had found Malfoy, all right. He had been able to make it approximately a hundred meters into the direction of the loo, but then he had stopped and just stood there, leaning heavily against the wall, his forehead glinting with beads of perspiration and his face as pale as a ghost's. Harry hadn't thought it possible for Draco to get any paler than he already had been. There was a horrible, embarrassing, gurgling and rumbling noise coming from him. It looked like he needed all his concentration to will his muscles to keep in what wasn't supposed to come out, except in the right place – the bathroom.

Harry approached Malfoy - now Draco – and put a hand on his bony shoulder. His whole body was shaking, while the aggressive bowel noises continued to permeate the silence of the empty hallway. He gave a meek whimper, something that sounded like “Harry,” and then, “help!”

Harry scowled. He wanted to help, all right, but how should he move Draco if he wasn't able to uncross his legs in order to take a step forward without his guts spilling out? There were not only the sounds, but the indistinguishable smell, too. Harry guessed that Draco wouldn't be able to hold it much longer - with or without trying to walk. He wanted to lift him and fling him across his shoulder in order to carry him, if there was no other way, but as soon as he touched his boyfriend, the blond emitted a frightened noise and shied away from his touch, as if it had burned him. His muscles - even those on his face and neck - started to contract with the effort he was making to withhold the contents of his bowels, and he slowly started to slide down the wall. He would have ended in a ball of pain and misery, had Harry not grabbed his arm against his protests and held him in a standing position. There were already tears spilling over Draco's eyes and starting to travel down his cheeks.

Harry sighed and grabbed his boyfriend's other shoulder, too. There was nothing either of them could do. "Draco, just let it go," he told the quivering Slytherin.

Draco looked up at him with eyes as round as dinner plates, but it seemed that either he was beyond his limits or his body reacted at the calmly uttered command, because suddenly there was an even louder rumble coming from him and tremors raked his body while a wet squishing noise and a smell so strong that Harry had to cast a bubble-head charm on himself and Draco, proved that Draco, or his body, had indeed let go.

It seemed as if, once started, Draco wasn't able to stop, and in the company of more muscle cramping, keening and more of the wet, thickly splashing noises, Draco continued to empty his bowels for a good minute. He was now outright crying, pressing his wet face, red with the exertion and even more with shame now, into Harry's chest while Harry continued to hold him upright.

The faeces flowed down under Draco's robes, most likely staining the inside, too. It slid down his quivering legs staining his shoes and creating a half-solid half-fluid puddle in the floor around them. Harry couldn’t imagine how that all could have come out of just one person!

He had no idea what it was exactly that did it. It might have been the sight of Draco being this defenceless, this vulnerable, or that he was trusting him and sharing with him this - without doubt - most shameful moment of his life. And, yes, the fact that his boyfriend just dirtied his underwear (Draco didn't like to wear trousers under his robes; he thought it was a horrible Muggle-ish habit) and shat on the floor of an open hallway. He didn't even notice that he had become hard until Draco had accidentally touched him while he was trying to seek comfort from him, or trying to find a convenient dark corner in Harry's robes to hide in.

Harry hissed loudly and as a half-conscious move he pulled Draco closer, partly still with the intent of comforting him and stilling the trembling of his body. Draco tried to arrange himself in a more comfortable position inside his arms, his shoes made squelching noises when he lifted them and put his feet down outside the brownish puddle. Harry couldn't help but take a look downwards to the mess Draco had created, wondering at the soiled shoe marks that lead from it to their current position. Something just clicked inside his brain, and in the next moment he was kissing a first bewildered, but a short time later just as willing, Draco. At first, Harry thought that his boyfriend went along with it instead of protesting that they clear the shite off and Harry take him into a bathroom or his dormitory to clean himself, because he needed to be comforted and told that it was alright, that nothing that happened was his fault. But then he pressed his groin to Harry's and there was an answering hardness under his robes.

Harry pulled away, taken aback, and Draco started to blush again, turning his gaze away in shame. Harry swiftly lifted his boyfriend's chin and pressed a quick peck onto his trembling lips before he got the idea that Harry thought any differently about him than with understanding and... lust - yes, it was definitely lust.

Harry captured the blond’s lips again in a harsh kiss, to which his partner submitted willingly. Somewhere in the middle of it, Harry's hands started to act as if on their own, and when he noticed it, they were already pulling up Draco's robe and slipping behind the heavily soaked-through material. The thin excrement covering the back of the Slytherin's trembling thighs was slippery and still body-warm. Harry couldn't help but run his fingers up and down the wet smoothness massaging it lightly into the other boy's just-as-smooth skin. Then he slid his hands higher and reached the softly rounded globes of Draco's bottom.

Harry had been right. Draco was only wearing a now soiled g-string, though because of its nature it got much less dirty than y-fronts or boxer shorts would have, had Draco been wearing either of those. Harry suddenly realised that it was the red one he had given Draco two days earlier, saying that he wanted to see his boyfriend wearing that, because to his own knowledge, Draco didn't possess any other g-string.

Draco jumped a bit when Harry parted his cheeks. Harry could feel the muscles tightening there under his fingers. He transferred his mouth to the side of his boyfriend's neck while one of his fingers gently pulled the soaked string out of his crack and pushed it to the side. He then circled the puckered ring of muscles, still wet and hot and much more sensitive to his touch than normal. It was still opening and tightening rhythmically, as if the contractions hadn't stopped yet. Harry quickly pressed one of his index fingers into the passage. The insides of the silky-tight channel were still sloppy with diarrhoea.

In that moment Draco grabbed to the front of Harry's robes and gave out another keening noise, while his stomach started to rumble anew - though these were far from as violent as the first surges. Harry gasped when something indescribable jolted directly into his loins and pushed the index finger of his other hand in next to the one already penetrating Draco. Then with a swift move he pulled them apart, opening up the puckered entrance as far as its muscles allowed without causing Draco excessive pain. As it were, even that was enough, and in the next moment, Draco's muscles were cramping again, his sphincter contracting around Harry's fingers, which allowed him to widen the hole as the liquid faeces started to first leak, then a few seconds later gush out of it and past Harry's unrelenting fingers. Harry didn't know whether Draco was just trying to hold onto him while his body was trembling with the cramps, or if he was intentionally frotting against him through their robes, but in the middle of the most violent gushes he felt a different kind of stiffening and then quivering from his boyfriend, as a warm wetness started to spread between their pressed together hips.

Draco had just come!

The realisation gave Harry another jolt, and the only thing that stopped him from coming himself, was the desire of being inside of that tight, twitching, gurgling channel that still pulsed with the final few gushes of the last bout of diarrhoea.

They were once again standing in yet another puddle of gooey, light brown poo, glinting wetly in the sparse light of the corridor. But neither Harry nor Draco seemed to care anymore. Harry's hands were covered with his boyfriend's end product, and the urge seemed to have stopped for now. But Draco's stomach was not yet silent and Harry could feel the tremors against his body. He hoped that meant that there would be more to come.

Draco slowly came back from the high of his recent orgasm and sighed slowly, then stifled a giggle when Harry wiggled the fingers still inside of him.

"Oh, Merlin!" That was the only thing Draco said with a tired sigh, but to his relief, Harry couldn't detect any sign of disgust or anger in it, only honest to good fatigue and traces of an afterglow.

"Will you turn to the wall for me, please?" Harry whispered into Draco's ear that was so conveniently placed next to his mouth. He pushed his tongue full inside of it and started to caress and wet every little corner and crevice of the pale lobe. Harry didn't do that often, because it indicated a level of intimacy they hadn't yet reached, but he knew that Draco liked his ear bathed in saliva and he felt that if the occasion was ever there, then it was now.

Draco whimpered and started to obey, only stopping mid-turn to extend the sensations Harry administered onto his ear, not caring if his neck got all slobbery because of it. Harry gladly obeyed the silent plea, only stopping when Draco's belly made yet another loud noise and his sphincter started to quiver around the one finger he had kept pushed up his boyfriend's arse, slowly caressing the prostate he found there.

With the next contraction and gut sound came Draco's heartfelt moan, something between pain and pleasure, and Harry quickly flipped him over, bunching up his robes under his armpits, which Draco grabbed to keep them there. Harry just as quickly freed his own erection, not caring if his own robes and trousers got smeared with shit - he would have opportunity to clean them later with a charm. His jeans and pants dropped onto the ground around his feet. Harry had to give it to Dudley's overlarge clothes as they made his sex life easier. He didn't bother with lubrication or preparation; Draco's hole was already more than adequately lubricated by his own fluids and stretched by their previous activity.

The entrance Harry slipped into without effort was so much hotter than any other time before, even though it was a bit looser and the faeces didn't give as good lube, despite it being available in larger quantities. The texture was mixed, not overall liquid and smooth, but it had little clots and clumps of varying solidness in it. Harry didn't mind it much, as they gave a feeling that was a bit like ribbed condoms just from the other side.

Barely had Harry been in that a new assault started to rack Draco's body again. The Slytherin had pressed his temple to the cool stone and sought leverage in the wall, while with his other hand still held onto the knot of the lower parts his robes.

The feeling was indescribable. It was hot and gripping him, milking out every sensation, then the rush of even hotter liquid splashed to the head of his cock and tried to push it out of the contracting channel. Harry obeyed, as the sounds coming from Draco started to traverse more into the direction of pained instead of pleasured. He pulled out once, letting the first portion of shit gush out of the rounded opening. It splattered his groin because of the extra pressure of Harry's cock having acted like a plug, forcing the material to remain inside until he had pulled out. When the gush had been reduced to a slow leaking, Harry entered his boyfriend's sloppy entrance again, and revelled in the delicious contractions around his cock. He repeated the pulling out - pushing back routine until the majority of the shit had come out. By then he was gone beyond all limits. He started to pump the pliant opening in earnest, pushing in hard and fast, just the way Draco normally liked him to, while one of his hands slipped down and started to stroke the Slytherin's renewed handful of an erection. The slippery faeces soiling his hand added the lubrication that allowed for him to go faster rather than if his hand were dry or only lubed with pre-come. The smacking noises of their hips slamming together were a bit different from the ones created by proper lubrication, or perhaps it was just Harry's imagination combined with his own harsh breathing, Draco’s mewling pants plus the weak gurgling and rumbling noises coming from the blond that made them sound somehow dirtier. And it was a good kind of dirty.

When the onslaught of the thick liquid stopped and it was time for the gases to get free, Harry adapted a new speed, and in the company of impolite noises emanating from his lover, he came with a force he had never come before. Draco followed him not a minute later.

For the next couple of minutes they were just standing in the middle of the dungeon hallway, panting and leaning to the cool wall. Harry supported Draco, cradling him with one arm under the dirty clump of bunched up robes, his softening member still inserted to the hilt into Draco's now softly trembling channel, their sweaty skins pressed and glued together where no robes prevented the contact.

There was a sudden rumbling noise that this time came from the classroom. This jolted them into action.

The first thing Harry did was dissolve the bubble-head charms. In retrospect, this had been a mistake, as the strong, acrid smell permeated their nostrils almost instantly, causing him to choke on it. Draco also started to heave with disgust, and Harry hurried to re-establish the charm for both of them while he was at the same time trying to yank up his trousers. It must have been the work of the adrenalin, but he succeeded doing up himself and Scourgifying the floor and the wall where the faeces had been splashed. He cast a quick cleaning charm onto their shoes and left their robes for later, because he knew that it would take considerably more time and a few different charms to take out nearly dried-in shit from the fabric.

When he was done, he did an air freshening charm against any left over smell, then grabbed Draco’s hand, and started to run towards his boyfriend’s original destination – the nearest bathroom – dragging him along behind him.

It was not a second too early when the door slammed closed behind them. Harry could hear the Potions classroom’s door opening and the students starting to spill out into the hallway. He cast a quick series of locking charms on the bathroom door while he was listening to the noises outside. He nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard another loud splattering noise coming from behind his back echoed by a toilet bowl. He quickly added a silencing charm to the door. It also muffled the noises from the other side, but at least no one outside would hear that they were in there.

Draco was sitting in the nearest cubicle with a pained expression on his face, nose scrunched up as he was gripped by yet another rush. At least this time it was less forceful and it was over faster, too. Harry’s heart clenched at the sight of the messy, miserable boy sitting on the white porcelain. Before it could register that his hands were still smeared with poo, he had already lifted them up and started to stroke Draco’s baby fine hair and his jaw. But instead of recoiling, Draco dipped his face into his palm and sighed. Of course it wouldn’t have mattered much if he didn’t do that, because the mess had already somehow gotten onto Draco’s face and into his hair. It was good that the bubble-head charms were still intact, Harry thought then.

“Does it hurt much?” he asked on a low voice.

“A bit.” Draco grimaced a little. “It stings down there, and my stomach muscles hurt as if I had done hundred sit ups without pausing.”

“We have to clean up,” Harry continued. “Do you think it will be over soon?”

Draco shrugged and then suddenly farted, which caused him to jump and then blush. Harry just laughed it off and pressed a light kiss onto those delicious lips.

While Draco was still not able to get up, because his stomach continued to hurt, and he was surprised from time to time by sudden bursts of thin excrement, Harry started to divest him of his robes. He had kicked the g-string, now ruined beyond repair, onto the floor before he had sat down on the toilet in hurry. Harry had to incinerate it. His heart was bleeding, but there were two thoughts that made him not mind that much. One was that he could always buy Draco a new one, and the second was that it had died a worthy death. Draco snickered when Harry told him that.

The atmosphere between the two had changed into something much more intimate and comfortable somewhere in the middle of their previous episode and neither of them was hard-pressed to get back to their previous barely-more-than-acquaintances-who-fucked-behaviour.

As his stomach turned slightly at the thought of food, Harry didn’t mind spending the first half of dinner time trying to get both of their robes and his own trousers into a condition that they would be able to get back into their dorms and change into fresh clothes. He had also incinerated his own pants and their socks, because those weren’t worth the trouble. The shoes were a bit easier to clean. The only thing that remained was a faint odour that would have to be masked by shoe cream.

The bathroom didn’t have showers, as it was nowhere near the dormitories, so they had to content themselves with cleaning charms instead of a nice thorough bath.

Harry couldn’t help but notice the pinched expression of Draco when he was finally able to leave his throne and cast the charms on himself with the help of Harry. Every time he took a step he winced slightly, though he tried to conceal it.

“Did I hurt you?” Harry asked with newfound concern, as he had never asked that before, nor had Draco.

“No.” The blond winced again. “It wasn’t what you did, it just… burns. I think the charms had dried out my skin and it was already a bit sore from… you know.”

Harry tilted his head, finding it infinitely amusing that Draco would have problems with saying out loud that he had no problems doing.

“Shall I kiss it better?” Harry offered lightly. At the sight of Draco’s renewed blush, the offered activity suddenly started to become more and more inviting.

“What is it? You don’t want to tell me that you find the idea gross after what we have been up to just now!” Harry asked while approaching his still naked boyfriend, who chose to bow down and lace his shoes so he wouldn’t have to look into Harry’s eyes. Wasn’t he aware of the suggestiveness of this pose? Perhaps not at first, but when Harry’s nose suddenly snuggled between his arse cheeks and the brunette moaned with delight, he wouldn’t have been able to not know it.

Harry had cast a Finite Incantatum on his Bubble-Head Charm already, so he would be able to tell if their robes had any residual odour. Now, as his nose was pressed so near to Draco’s entrance, he couldn’t help but take a deep breath, inhaling the smell that – despite the cleaning charms and sparklingly clean skin – still lingered there. Harry didn’t mind, though, as it reminded him of their previous activity and that, furthermore, sent a delicious tingle through his not so long ago spent cock.

Draco had been right, the skin of, and around, his sphincter was reddened and dry. Harry spread the otherwise lily-white cheeks and gave the abused pucker an experimental lick that made Draco jump and grab his ankles, as he was still in the middle of tying his shoelaces.

“Harry…” he gasped.

“Does it hurt?” Harry asked, his hot breath caressing the dampened body part, making it clench and then relax before Harry’s widened eyes, who had decided to discard his slightly fogged up spectacles.

“No-o” that was closer to a moan. “It doesn’t hurt, just…”

“Is it bad? Should I stop?” Harry’s question was immediately followed by another encouraging lick that made the blond gasp again.

“No,” he breathed. “Don’t stop!”

So Harry didn’t. It was interesting. He had always wanted to do it, just didn’t have the courage (ha-ha Gryffindor!) to ask for it. He thought Draco would look funny at him and just walk away, or worse, laugh at his clumsy attempts of pleasuring him. But the keening gasps Draco was currently giving out didn’t sound like laughing at all, even though Harry was far from skilled.

He licked and then watched Draco’s now wet and glistening sphincter quiver under his tongue, then slowly open and not quite close up, as if it was breathing simultaneously with its owner. Harry was entranced.

He experimentally inserted his tongue into the opening and gave a circular swipe with it. Draco whimpered. His muscles clenched around Harry’s tongue, not that he’d have wanted to remove it. On the contrary, he forced it deeper and deeper, until his teeth pressed small indentions into Draco’s slightly rounded bottom around his hole. His nose was pushed back and scrunched into the crevice between his boyfriend’s arse cheeks by his effort to get closer. The vast amount of saliva that somehow escaped Draco’s arsehole, and that he wasn’t able to swallow thanks to his position, dribbled down his chin and landed on Draco’s soft-furred balls. Harry spread it with a thumb around the sensitive globes and listened to Draco’s mewling.

At first he was mortified by the loud and rather impolite smacking noises his tongue in that tight hole and the insistent sucking on his boyfriend’s entrance resulted in. But that didn’t shake his determination one bit – or Draco’s arousal for that matter – so he decided that he didn’t care. Harry had always been embarrassed and teased by his dorm mates for the fact that he could easily reach the tip of his nose with his tongue. It was a product of his second year, when he had naïvely volunteered as guinea pig to test Fred and George’s experimental version of the Ton Tongue Toffee. Experimental, because its effect wasn’t as temporary as they would have liked to, but also not as bad as the batch of which Dudley had got his share. But right now, as he plunged it into Draco with abandon, he was rather proud of the effect he was able to produce on him with his abnormality.

In the next ten minutes, Harry gave his boyfriend’s arse a thorough bath inside and out, until the passage around his steadily working muscle had started to ripple and, not much later, Draco came again, with Harry’s name spilling from his mouth interrupted by breathy moans. Draco was never very loud during sex, but Harry didn’t mind it. Those heartfelt sighs and tiny mewls were a thousand times more arousing and satisfying than the loud yelling his previous partners used to produce when they came.

Harry removed his tongue from the blond Slytherin’s arse and froze for a moment. He rather hoped that Draco wouldn’t see that huge love bite around his entrance before Harry could spell it away. He didn’t have an idea in the first place that it was possible to put a hickey to a place like that. As Draco stood up wearily, with all of the blood having run into his face and his knees still shaking, Harry had to steady him with his hands on the Slytherin’s hips.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“Fuck!” That was the only answer he got for another ten minutes. Harry hadn't heard Draco resorting to profanities very frequently.

-------------------

As fantastic as Harry regarded the experience, it seemed to had put a stop to their relationship. They avoided the topic for full two months, and Draco seemed to be reluctant to go further than short blowjobs in empty classrooms. He got rigid and a bit offended if Harry only so much as petted his bum through his clothes, and Harry decided that it wasn’t worth agonising over. It looked like their short involvement was going towards an inevitable end, and even though Harry was a bit depressed by it, he just wasn’t able to find out how he could remedy it, because Draco refused to speak – he always found some other occupation for Harry’s mouth whenever he tried to make a conversation, or just walked away.

His thoughts thus detained, Harry had completely forgotten about Christmas until he woke up at Ron shaking his shoulders and a pile of wrapped presents being cluttered at the foot of his bed. They started the usual ritual of unwrapping their packages and commenting on the other’s presents, and it had gone the same way like every other year – that is until Harry had reached his last package.

It was a small one, and after removing the wrapper, Harry found a small padded box in it that contained a potion with the Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes logo. It was their newest product; a light purgative that had to be put into pumpkin juice and gave the drinker the runs.

Harry gazed at the bottle with a gobsmacked expression on his face until he heard Ron’s laugh at his brothers’ inventive Christmas presents. As Ron had left the dormitory to meet Hermione in the common room, Harry reached for the small card included with the box. He turned it around a few times between his fingers, since it seemed to be blank, but then he noticed that where his fingers touched it, small cursive letters began to appear. Harry pressed his palm onto it eagerly, and when he took it away, he was finally able to read the whole script.

I can hardly think of anything else since that time!
Meet me in the prefects’ bathroom today at 9 PM.
Bring the bottle!
This time it’s your turn, though!

Fin

ETA: There's a sequel written by someone else here: http ://hp. adultfanfiction .net/ story.php?no=600022607 [delete spaces]