All I Ever Wanted

DISCLAIMER: Warning! I make no claim to any property of J.K. Rowling's, and am in no way profiting by this. I do offer her my sincerest thanks for allowing us this garden of the mind in which we play. Further Warning! This story...and likely any I ever write...are dominated by gay themes and characters. That's how it is, if this in any way makes you uncomfortable...do not read further.

Author's Foreword: All I Ever Wanted was my first work of fanfiction, and it shows in several ways. First, there are several instances of OOC-ness, but most were intentional and rooted in the plot. Second, it is a long fic, and the later chapters are perhaps a bit better written than the early ones. I hope you stick with the story long enough to reach the chapters I'm proudest of, particularly the end, which I'm told is worth the long read. I sincerely hope you enjoy this story, and if you have any thoughts or comments, do please feel free to share them in a review. Yours, Samayel


"All I Ever Wanted".....chap.1 'Rude Awakening'


Draco woke slowly, self-awareness creeping upon him minute by minute, and with it, the realization that he was not in his own bed.

'Oh well, not exactly a new experience for the Slytherin Sex God,' he thought to himself. Despite what felt like a slowly brewing hangover that would soon be reaching its peak, Draco took a mental inventory of his condition. His head ached and throbbed, his tongue felt like an army had marched across it with muddy boots, his stomach was queasy and faintly rumbled with hunger. More tellingly, he was aware of a certain familiar soreness about his arse.

'Hmmph...nothing new there either, but to give credit where it's due, he must have been better than average if I'm still feeling it now.' His jaw and throat were sore as well, giving further testament to the previous nights assumed activities. He remembered only the beginning of an inter-house party last night, and only fleeting images were left in his memory. Anger...he remembered anger, but not the source. There had been Firewhiskey and Butterbeer and then anger...and apparently sex as well.

Tentatively, Draco peeled one eye open and scowled as he looked about the room. It appeared to be a spare Prefect's suite, and not well cared for at that. It had the feel of a room that had seen no use until last night, but at least the door to the bathroom was in plain view.

He'd used rooms like these for trysts before, but traditionally he remembered the entire experience. This could be a curse or a blessing depending on the skill and proportions of his many former paramours. A few had been the stuff of legends, but most had been a lot less than he'd hoped for once the lights were out.

It wasn't as if he had been terribly demanding or anything...he expected just a few simple courtesies of his dates...like a killer body, endless stamina, and the ability to drive a railroad spike through a 2 x 4 with nothing but their penis. Was that really so much to ask?

He steeled himself and crawled out, looking back at the sleeping bundle on the other side of the bed. A tanned and lean muscled arm was thrown across a pillow, but the rest of the young man was covered in rumpled blankets.

Without any further delay, Draco walked into the suite's bathroom and made use of the toilet. He was a lot more tender than he had first thought, and he winced several times while his body relieved itself of his latest date's telltale leftover seed. 'Sweet Merlin! Either he comes like a racehorse or we went round a half dozen times! I can't believe I was so drunk that I can't remember a night of sex that must have been bloody amazing! What a perfect gyp!!!'

The last time he'd felt this exhausted after a night of sex was during the Tri-Wizard Tournament. There had been a Bulgarian chum of Viktor's that fancied Draco and, when they finally got a moment alone, it hadn't been wasted. They had shagged themselves nearly unconscious and Draco remembered fondly the subtle sense of relaxation that had lasted for over a week after that perfect night. He'd had to cover his almost giddy cheerfulness with a fresh round of hexes and threats to keep the other Slytherins on their toes.

Just beneath the surface of his hangover, he could feel that much missed and long sought after giddiness and contentment creeping up on him. As soon as he could acquire a Hangover Potion he planned to spend his Sunday off languishing and enjoying the afterglow. First a shower, then lavish a little praise on last night's mystery partner, then down to Slytherin to score a Hangover Potion. He had a plan...and that always made him feel better.

While the shower warmed and steamed, Draco looked at himself in the mirror. His blond hair was spiky and mussed but still sexy, and the pale, slender body that looked back at him was flawless, utterly flawless. He smirked in perfect contentment at faint hickeys that marked his collarbone, evidence of his partner's enthusiasm. A pity he couldn't recall getting them, but at least he'd get a more formal introduction as soon as he was clean.

The bathroom was still stocked, with basic supplies like soap and towels, but it lacked the costly products Draco favored. He left a towel by the sink and climbed into the shower with an almost kittenish sigh of pure pleasure.

His head still throbbed, but at least the hot water scoured away the scent of Firewhiskey and the faintly musty scent of long unused blankets. It also washed away the less subtle aromas of sex that lingered about him...sweat, musk and come. He even stuck out his tongue in the stream of water and let the shower carry away most of his morning breath. He wanted his own products more than ever, after all, there was a man in the other room who might just be worth keeping around and here he was with only the most rudimentary hygiene supplies! This almost qualified as a disaster!

After making do with the soap and shampoo available, he rinsed himself thoroughly and turned the water off. When he was satisfied that he was not only dry, but also stunning to look upon, he wrapped the towel around his waist and prepared to give his mystery man a sexy wake up call.

He heard the sound of stumbling and a muffled curse from the other room. Not wanting his newest plaything to feel abandoned, he called out, "Good morning, sexy!" and started out the door from the bathroom. "You should know that last night was...was...OH, SWEET FUCKING MERLIN, NO!"

Stumbling around the the edge of the bed with his pants half on was none other than Harry 'The Scar Headed Prat That Barely Managed To Not Snuff It' Potter! Aside from the utter shock and horror that stopped him in his tracks, one other thing drew his attention. South of his perfect abs and dangling between Potter's taut and athletic legs was an absolutely incredible male member!

Naked lust may have distracted Draco for a second, but blind rage was fast in taking its place. Malfoy rallied and closed his gaping mouth. The angelic face that had so recently looked blissful and cheery in the bathroom mirror was pinched with outrage. Potter just stared in wide-eyed and horrified silence.

"Potter!" Draco hissed, "You fucking pillock! I don't know what you did to me last night or what unholy charm you used but I swear to..."

"WHAT THE..." spluttered a deeply confused and now furiously blushing Harry, "...ME?! Charm you! You miserable little ponce! I can't believe the nerve you have! You must have drugged me or hexed me or...or...well...done SOMETHING EVIL! I don't even know how I got here!"

"Well I certainly didn't invite you! I think I'm going to be sick! You! YOU dared to touch me! I wasn't in that shower long enough! It's going to take a lifetime to get the stink of you off of me! You PIG!" Draco had worked himself into a towering rage. He knew his wand had to be somewhere near. THERE...the nightstand. If he could work his way over to it slowly he'd be safe.

Potter looked livid and then suddenly almost morose. He pulled the last of his clothes on and sat down on the edge of the bed with his head in his hands. "I can't believe it...I can't believe I...this happened...I waited and waited and now it's all just a bloody waste..." he was muttering to himself.

Draco moved slowly to his wand and took stock of the situation. As much as he wanted to hex Potter right out of Creation he was caught completely off guard by the sniffling sounds coming from his nemesis. Harry Potter was crying! This called for a hasty reassessment. Some positively disgusting urge inside of him made Draco want to offer some kind of comfort to the dark-haired boy. Shaking with tension and still clutching his wand for security, he clamped down on his emotions and took control of his voice.

"No one has to know about this," he stated flatly. "In fact, make that no one can EVER know about this! No harm, no foul. We go our seperate ways and Obliviate ourselves until we have to repeat seventh year. This is salvageable, Potter. No one knows about this and it stays that way! I remember nearly nothing, you don't seem to either...let's just call it quits and get on with the year. How's that? Any better?"

Harry seemed to come around a bit, sheepishly wiping his eyes with a robe sleeve and fumbling with his glasses.

"Yeah, okay," he uttered without spirit. Jade green eyes bored into Draco for a moment. Wheels were turning in Potter's mind, and it was with a sigh of resignation that he spoke again.

"I won't tell anyone if you won't. I swear it. You should know one thing though, seeing as we'll never mention this again. I would never use a charm on someone for...for this...I wanted my first time to be perfect, not a fucking drunken accident I'd have to lie about! Somehow I think you're telling the truth about not planning this, but if I'm wrong and you use this to hurt me, I also swear I'll make you pay in ways even a Slytherin wouldn't dream of!" With that final statement Harry stood and marched out of the room, leaving behind a shocked and silent Malfoy.

Draco stood in the room alone for almost a minute before he regained his composure. He'd been hooking up for fun with guys for nearly three years and not one had ever left bitter because they had HAD sex. The tears and recriminations usually came when they realized that Draco Malfoy wasn't going to require their presence any longer and that, as a result, they would no longer get to enjoy his attentions and would have to watch him flirt with his next conquest.

Well, there was the Nott Incident, though he shuddered to think of it. After promising Draco everything but the moon, sun and stars, Theo had finally gotten into Draco's good books long enough to get their clothes off. It had become quickly apparent that Nott wasn't 'equipped' to handle the job, in fact Draco still had trouble believing that there wasnt some kind of Shrinking Charm involved. When he laughed out loud at the sight of Nott's alleged 'manhood' it had prompted an immediate retreat by a shame-faced Theodore Nott. The bitterness of the other student was the subject of rumors, but Draco kept him in check with the threat of acid commentary that would leave him publicly ruined. After all, Draco Malfoy was not the 'Slytherin Prince' for no reason at all.

His mind drifted back to Potter. Damned unruly mind! He'd claimed Harry's precious virginity...and with not a word of thanks or gratitude. Insolent brat! Most people didn't make the cut to even speak to him, and fewer still were those blessed with the opportunity to receive sexual attention from him. He hadn't even known Potter was gay. Talking about playing one's cards close to the vest! And what a body under those oversized rags he called clothes!

Draco's mind flashed through the tiny delicious details of Potter's naked body, the light slope of shoulders, broad flat pecs, lean yet muscular arms and legs, washboard abs only slightly defined, his uniform tan, and then there was his face. That annoyingly half-cute / half-handsome face framed by doubly annoyingly messy dark hair, and those almost hypnotic emerald green eyes that always seemed too wide to be anything but pretense. Draco suddenly realized that his body was responding to these thoughts, and he almost had his hand under his towel before he snapped back to reality. 'Fucking Potter! Not sexy, not even cute! Repulsive...wrong...wrong...wrong! Think not sexy thoughts!! Snape naked! McGonagall starkers!! Sex with girls! Having to top!!!'

With some effort, he got himself back to an unaroused state of mind, and started pulling his clothes on while he went over cover stories for what happened after that cursed party. He was almost finished when the first glimmer of a flashback struck him. He was about to leave and, as he stood holding the doorknob, he looked back at the bed. His mind's eye flickered, and for a brief ecstatic second, he remembered.

Strong hands, yet gentle, one cradling his chin and lifting it and the other around his waist and holding him close. The kiss was the maddening thing. Fumbling and awkward for a moment, then suddenly fierce and hungry...not the soulless hunger of a predator, but the gentle hunger of a lover...sincere and almost flavored with tears. Whiskey-laced tongues meeting and melting, one into the other, then a moment apart staring into eyes like green pools that hid depths you could swim in forever.

Then he was back, in an empty room, looking at an unmade bed and cursing under his breath while fighting off a legendary hangover. Slytherin's common room was a long walk away, and the rest of the day no longer held the promise of any comfort. 'Damn Potter straight to the Nine Hells! Just should have hexed him when I had the chance!' With that last curse, Draco stepped out into the chilly halls and headed out to face the day.