The Perils Of Too Many Orgasms

A/N: Thanks to Melisande for the beta, and to knightmare, who did the read-through for me.

For Ali, who asked for some HarryLu nummy-ness to greet her on her return home.

It was at times like this that Harry wished fervently that Voldemort had killed him after all.

He hated Ministry functions. He hated that this was the third gala in less than three weeks that he’d been coerced into attending.

And therefore, he decided to get through it the only way he knew how. By getting absolutely shit-faced.


*****


Hermione had dragged him bodily to Diagon Alley to purchase new dress robes. When he explained that he already had some, she rolled her eyes.

“Harry, those robes are four years old!! They wouldn’t fit now, since you’ve grown so much.”

“But why do I need three sets of dress robes?” he whinged.

It was a mistake to ask that. She called in the big guns.

Draco Malfoy.

“Oh, Merlin why did you call him, Herm?” Harry practically cried. “What did I do to you to make you sic Malfoy on me? Did I kick your cat or something?”

“Oh, do shut up, Potter,” Draco groaned. “You have got to be the most helpless person on the planet if you can’t even figure out the simple fact that you cannot wear the same set of robes to different functions. Did you think that people wouldn’t notice things like that?”

“For the love, Draco, could you possibly be any more gay?” Harry returned.

“You should know, Potter,” Draco simpered.

Harry shook his head.

Finally, after much debate (read: yelling and screaming), Harry exited Madam Malkin’s with four sets of dress robes. But that wasn’t the end of it. Draco then proceeded to drag Harry out into Muggle London, where he built Harry’s wardrobe from the feet up. Shoes, boots, trainers, dress slacks and leather trousers, jeans that fit. Shirts, jumpers, jackets, boxers and T-shirts. Harry was completely knackered, but he had to hand it to Draco. Poncy or not, he did have impeccable taste, and knew what looked good on anyone. As a thank-you, Harry treated Hermione and Draco to dinner.


*****


And now, here he was again, expected to make nice and mingle, accept accolades for doing something that no one else wanted to do. Kill Voldemort. Merlin knew, the Ministry didn’t help at all, but they sure as hell made certain that their name was attached to the deed. Harry could care less. All he wanted to do was sleep for a week, then get laid. Or get laid, then sleep for a week. He wasn’t fussy. But no. Voldemort had died nine days previous, and Harry had been giving interviews, posing for pictures, and attending Ministry balls. They even made him gives speeches, for the gods’ sake. He figured that, if he got drunk enough, he might actually have some fun this time. After the last two garbled speeches he'd given, you would think that they'd have figured it out: Harry might have been a leader, but he was definitely not a public speaker.

He disentangled himself from a group of well-wishers and made his way back to the bar. From here, he could see the comings and goings of the guests. Gods, he was bored. He needed something, someone, some kind of excitement. And then, his wish came true.

All six-foot, two inches of it.

Glorious silver mane spilling over his shoulders, midnight blue dress robes with a crisp white silk shirt underneath, ebony cane with the silver serpent’s head topping it, he strolled into the ball like a wet dream that he'd had. Harry closed his eyes and turned back to the bartender.

“Can I get another Orgasm, please?” he asked.

“Green Eyes,” the bartender said moving in close, “you can have as many orgasms as you like. Can I watch? Or give you a hand?”

Harry snorted. “Just give me my drink, please,” he answered. The bartender huffed and turned to make the drink. The more of these he drank, Harry reasoned, the quicker he’d be oblivious of what was going on. He glanced out of the corner of his eye and witnessed the stunning blond greet various Ministry officials and wizarding world elite.

God, what I wouldn’t give for a ride on that, Harry thought to himself. His cock throbbed in agreement. “Down, boy,” he whispered. Harry accepted his drink from the bartender and took a big gulp. He winced as the sweet mixed drink slid down his throat. Resting his head in his hands, he caught a whiff of cologne. A very distinctive cologne. Without opening his eyes, he commented, "Interesting."


A low, sultry voice answered. "What's interesting?"


Still not looking, Harry replied, "That you, of all people, would wear Muggle cologne." He sighed deeply and turned to look into the sterling silver eyes of Lucius Malfoy.


Smirking, as he was wont to do, Lucius explained. "I found myself in downtown London one day. I wandered into Harrods-"


"Figures," Harry grunted.


Cocking a perfectly arched eyebrow, Lucius continued. "-and was assaulted by one of those annoying little Muggle girls with too much make-up and not enough skirt. She...sprayed me."


Harry tried to keep a straight face, but the look on Lucius' face was too much. He giggled hysterically. "Oh, poor baby," he cajoled.


Again with the eyebrow. "In any case, the only thing that saved her miserable hide was the fact that it was a very pleasant scent. So, I purchased it."


It was Harry's turn to cock an eyebrow. "You carry Muggle money, too?"


"Of course, Mr. Potter. One never knows when one's arse might be left hanging in the breeze."


Harry stared incredulously. "And a fine arse it is," he remarked, immediately clapping a hand over his mouth. Okay, maybe he'd had enough to drink. He counted up the empty glasses in front of him. Three. Nah, not nearly enough.


Lucius smiled. "Wouldn't you like to know?" he whispered, a predatory gleam in his eye.

“Yeah, but I’m not quite drunk enough for that,” Harry smiled. He patted the seat next to him. “Join me in my quest for oblivion?”

“You know,” Lucius commented as he sat, “there’s a nifty little spell that can do the job quite nicely.”

“True, but I want to do it the old fashioned way,” Harry countered.

“As you wish. Bartender,” Lucius called, “I’ll have what he’s having. And refresh his, while you‘re at it.”

“Two Orgasms, coming up,” the barman snickered. Lucius looked at Harry, eyebrow raised.

“You know, “ Harry began, as the alcohol began to take effect, “I used to wonder if you, Draco and Sev stood in a mirror and practiced that. The eyebrow thingy.”

Lucius gazed at Harry, surprised, then burst into the sexiest laugh that Harry had ever heard. It went straight to his cock.

“I believe that I am better at it than the other two. Although Draco has a better smirk. And Severus…that thing he does with his robes…”

“The Batman billowing cape thing?” Harry ventured.

Lucius smirked. Yeah, Draco is better at that, Harry thought. “Yes, exactly.”

Harry stared. “You know who Batman is?” he asked.

“Contrary to popular belief, Mr. Potter, I have a vast knowledge of Muggle pop culture. One must know the ways of one’s…”

“Enemy?” Harry finished.

“Indeed,” Lucius replied. "Now, about that comment you made a few minutes ago..."

"Which one?" Harry asked, confused by the shift in topic.

"The comment about my arse. Were you merely admiring, or was that a prelude to something else?" Lucius prodded.

"Can I get back to you on that?" Harry gulped. Trust Lucius to go straight for the jugular. Or lower places, as Harry's cock gave another jump.

"If you insist," Lucius conceded. He finished his drink, and signaled for another. "These are actually quite good," Lucius said. "Muggles do come up with the most interesting names for drinks. Have you ever had a 'Blow-Job'?"

Harry choked on his drink. "Er...the drink?"

Again with the sexy chuckle. "Yes, Mr. Potter. The one you drink out of someone's lap?"

Harry stared incredulously. "How do you know these things? I mean, first with the cologne, then the drinks...was this a part of your spying?"

"Yes," Lucius answered. "As I said, a spy, a good spy, should know his enemy thoroughly. Their likes and dislikes, where they go and what they do...it's all part of knowing their weaknesses. For example, electricity. Wizards have made do without this forever. Muggles on the other hand would literally cease to function were they to lose it. We could have the same things that they do-computers, kitchen gadgets, stereo equipment-all we need is a spell to take place of the wires and currents that make these things work. And yet, there are things that Muggles have that we could benefit from. An example would be medicine. Most of wizard Britain relies on Severus Snape to discover and make the potions that we need to cure our ills. And there he lies in St. Mungo's, and we have no idea of how to cure him. Think of what Muggle medicine could do for him, if one of their healers were able to examine him.

“I realized quite late in the game that Muggles weren’t the problem. Muggles knowing about our world was. The irony of it all is that once we bring them into our world, they leave it with the knowledge of us. And we're back where we started. First, they'd want to know about us, then ask for our help, and then...once we've had enough of the incessant questions and pleas, they'd begin to persecute us. It's happened before.” Lucius looked intently at Harry, looking to see what effect his words might have.

"So what you're saying is, the main reason that wizards don't want Muggles or Muggleborns to have access to our world is not because they taint the blood, but because of they way that they've treated us in the past?" Harry asked, thinking about the many discussions he'd had with the younger Malfoy.

"In a nutshell, yes. You see Harry, most of the Death Eaters that followed Voldemort followed him for that reason, to keep our world safe. At least, that was what we'd been taught to believe. We simply didn't want our world to be overrun with their ideals and opinions. By the time we figured out that he was a raving lunatic out for world domination, most of us were in too deep. Even the best intentions will go awry if the wrong person is leading fight."

Harry nodded in understanding. “Draco and I had this….argument?…quite a few times over the past couple of years. I couldn't figure out why Purebloods felt that Muggles knowing about us, at least the ones that come into our world, was such a bad thing. Draco told me that it wasn't because they were inferior or that didn't deserve to know about the wizarding world, but that when the Muggleborns left our world and married other Muggles, it would decrease the population of wizards, and there would be basically no one to mate with after enough time had passed. Put that way, it began to make sense. I mean, you guys can't marry each other forever, can you? You'd be having three-headed babies after awhile," Harry laughed. He looked at Lucius and continued.

"I finally began to understand why Purebloods felt the way that you do. And I have seen the way that Muggle beliefs have bled into our world, prejudices, homophobia...and divorce. I can see how they've slowly brought the Muggle world into the wizarding world. And you're right, it would only be a matter of time until we'd be wizards loving in a Muggle world. There are good things about that world, yes, but...it's like foreign countries that have kept and upheld their traditions for thousands of years. They've moved into the modern world, but the basic belief systems, the traditions are still in practice. I think that perhaps we should take care to protect those traditions, that we should take better precautions to protect our world. Voldemort almost destroyed it by killing indiscriminately. Muggles were beginning to catch on. We can’t have that.”

Lucius was amazed. “You’ve grown, Mr. Potter.”

“Harry.”

“Harry, then. You are beginning to understand.”

“Yes,” Harry said, turning to face Lucius. “I don’t agree with everything that you do. But I do agree that Muggles need to be…I don’t know, like when magical children are born, maybe they need to be brought into our world immediately. You know, introduced to our ways early. Hermione and I were at a huge disadvantage when we arrived at Hogwarts. We knew nothing of the wizarding world. Well, I didn’t, at any rate. She’d already been reading everything she could get her hands on. Me, well, everyone knows about that. There’s so much I still don’t know.”

“I’d be willing to teach you, if you’d like,” Lucius offered, a gleam in his eye.

“Really?” Harry breathed.

“Absolutely.”


*****


Harry enjoyed talking to Lucius, much to his surprise. The man was intelligent and funny by turns, dead sexy and flirtatious at times. Harry thought that he would explode if Lucius licked his lips one more time. And the drunker he got, the more he flirted back. He was on his sixth Orgasm and feeling no pain.

“You do know that you’re sex on two legs, don’t you?” Harry said, grinning.

“Really? I wonder what you look like when you come?” Lucius purred. Harry shivered. But before he could respond, his name was being called.

“Harry Potter, would you come up and say a few words?” Minister Fudge asked.

During their conversation, Harry had failed to notice that Fudge had gone into speech-mode again. He groaned, dropping his head to the bar with a thud.

“Come on Harry, don’t be shy,” Fudge cajoled.

“Gods, I’m sick of this,” Harry growled.

“Then give them something to talk about,” Lucius suggested. Harry gave him a wicked look. Then with a grin, Harry rose.


*****


“Sonorus,” Harry muttered, tapping his throat with his finger. A few of the guests stared, but most people knew that Harry was quite proficient at wandless magic.

“Thank you, Minister Fudge. For those of you who’ve been living under a rock for the last 18 years, I’m Harry Potter,” he began, smiling at the frowns that crossed the faces in the crowd.

Damn, this was going to be fun.


~*~


“Almost two weeks ago, I killed Voldemort. Killed him pretty damned good, if you ask me,” Harry said. “He won’t be coming back this time. I made good and damned sure of that. Not like the last time. You remember, the time when he killed my parents and tried to kill me? When everyone said, ‘Thank the gods that’s done with.’ No one bothered to check, you know, like they did this time? No one bothered to see if his wand had been destroyed. I did. I broke it this time myself. So that’s that. We’re shut of that nut job.”

Harry took a breath and looked around. Many of the faces present were shocked at his words. How dare he mock the heroism of…himself? What a load of shite. Harry was sick to death of it all, and set out to totally, utterly and for all time, demolish the myth that was The-Boy-Who-Lived-And-Defeated-Voldemort-For-Good. Time to close the book.

“Why do you people want to listen to this tosh again? Most of you were at the last two balls. What, did you think I was gonna say something different? Well, you have your wish. I am going to say something different.” He paused to take a sip of his drink. He glanced across the room, and spotted Lucius standing on the edge of the crowd. Lucius nodded to Harry.

“The-Boy-Who-Lived is dead. Gone. I am Harry Potter now, just plain old Harry Potter. I’m …so sick of this. Why don’t you honor someone else? There were plenty of people on that battlefield with me. Students, adults. Mothers, fathers, siblings. Molly and Arthur Weasley lost two children in this. Mad-Eye Moody is gone, Kingsley Shacklebolt fell, Tonks may never recover from her injuries. They are heroes, too. Professor Snape…” Harry faltered, throat tightening, “…Professor Snape is in a coma, they don’t know if he’ll make it, either…he’s the reason that I’m standing here. He pushed me out of the way of a curse that we’re still trying to figure out. If not for him, and Lucius and Draco Malfoy, we would have gotten our arses handed to us on a platter. Cheers, Lucius, Draco,” Harry called, lifting his almost empty glass in salute. He saw Draco, standing near Blaise Zabini, raise his in return. Lucius, however, was striding towards him, a fresh drink in his hand. He held the glass up, and Harry took it. Lucius gave Harry an inquiring look. Are you all right, it seemed to mean. Harry nodded. Yes, I am.

“Thank you, Mr. Potter, for those…er…kind words,” Fudge said, a strained look on his face.

“Shut up, Fudge, I’m not finished,” Harry snapped.

Fudge opened and closed his mouth, at a loss.

“D’you know you look like a fish when you do that?’ Harry said, a smile coming back to light his eyes. He heard a snicker from the crowd. He thought it might be Draco. “No, you wanted me up here, and I have a few more things to say.” Harry turned back to the crowd, which waited with bated breath.

“This is gonna be good,” Draco whispered to Hermione, Blaise and Ron. Hermione looked worried, while the other two men smiled.

“First, let me say that I hate doing this. I hate it. What do you want from me? I did what you wanted, I killed Voldemort. None of you wanted to. No, you left it to an eleven year old boy, then a teenager, to do what you wouldn’t. What you couldn’t. I stood and watched Albus Dumbledore fall, the greatest wizard in the world. He left me with the knowledge of how to end it, and he asked me to trust people that I wouldn’t normally trust. And Fudge, he told all of you that I was crazy! And you believed him. Oh, but when the truth came out, that Voldemort was back, you were all like, “Save us, Harry! Only you can do it.” What a load of rubbish. No, you hid in your houses, and left it to a bunch of kids and some adults to get the job done. Then, when it was all over, you were like, “We did it! We killed him! Newsflash-you didn’t do anything. None of you.

Voldemort-” the inevitable wince-”oh, for the love, people! He’s dead! Get over it, okay? Voldemort killed my parents, my friends and what family I had left. I knew that it was up to me. Some things just are. But when I needed help, I got it from the people that you scorned, a couple of former Death Eaters that could provide useful information, a werewolf that you feared and berated, and others. Fudge wants me to be the poster boy for the Ministry. Sorry, not interested.” Harry drained his glass, and once again, Lucius handed him a fresh one.

“Harry, why are you doing this?” a woman’s voice called out from the audience. Harry peered out, and groaned. Of all the people in the room, why did it have to be Rita Skeeter?

“Didn’t someone step on you already?” Harry whinged. He noticed Draco shaking with laughter.

“Harry, you’re a hero! Surely this is not the proper behavior for a hero, what will your fans think?”

“A hero? My fans? Here, print this, will you? I am not a hero. I killed someone, okay? And, I’m sure that my fans would just love to know that their hero is gay.”

Three witches fainted, Draco and Blaise cheered, Ron and Hermione groaned and Lucius grinned.

“Yep, gay, poncey, shirt-lifting gay gay gay! Bet you didn’t expect that, did you? And I don’t care who knows, really. Maybe now you’ll find someone new to worship.” Harry blinked, and staggered a bit. The alcohol seemed to hit him all at once. When he focused again, he was looking into the silver eyes of Lucius Malfoy. Harry licked his lips, biting the bottom one. He spoke softly.

“I wonder what your hair looks like spread all over a black satin pillow…if it would feel like silk falling through my fingers….grazing my skin…”

Harry seemed to forget that everyone in the room could hear him, not a few looking completely scandalized and intrigued. And if he had remembered, he wouldn’t have cared anyway. Lucius gazed at him, entranced.

“Would you take me hard and fast, or slow, like a dance? Can you take my breath away, Lucius? Can you?”

Lucius beckoned. “Come down, love. Show’s over.” He helped Harry down from the stage, and ended the amplifying spell on Harry, as well as the body-bind and silencing spell on Fudge.

“Go Harry!” Draco shouted, as some of the younger guests cheered wildly.

Lucius led him from the ballroom, out into the cool night air. Harry took great gulps of it, trying to settle his nerves.

“I can’t believe I just came out like that,” he whispered.

“Are you sorry?” Lucius asked.

“No, just can’t believe I did it like that. Oh well, smashed that image all to hell, didn’t I?” Harry said, smiling.

“That you did,” Lucius smirked. “What about the rest?”

“Oh, Merlin, did I just proposition you in there?” Harry asked, horrified.

“Yes. Did you mean it?”

Harry looked up at the blond, raising a hand to that glorious hair. “It does feel like silk.”

“Hold on to me,” Lucius said, and, wrapping his arms around the raven haired young man, Apparated them away.


~*~



The two men landed softly in the foyer of Malfoy Manor. Harry staggered a bit, holding his stomach.

“Lucius, I don’t feel so good,” Harry groaned, turning a little green.

Lucius took his hand and led him slowly down the ornate hallway, turning to enter the study just ahead. Harry headed straight for the leather sofa, easing his body down carefully. He could hear the muted clink of glass, then the rustle of fabric as Lucius returned to his side. He carried two small vials in his hands.

“Here, take this one first,” he said, offering the vial filled with green liquid.

“Snape’s hangover pain potion?” Harry guessed, taking the small bottle.

“Of course,” Lucius smirked. “No household should be without it.”

“Thank you,” Harry said gratefully, quaffing the brew. He shook violently, blinking his eyes rapidly. “Gods, that’s foul. You think he does that on purpose?”

Lucius grinned. “I know he does. He told me, once.”

“Why?” Harry whinged, taking the vial of pepper-up potion and chucking it down as well.

“He said that it was because everyone always gave him the fish-eye whenever he handed them a potion to take. As if the only purpose he served was to make them feel better. So, he figured that he’d make them pay for it. In more ways than one.” Lucius looked a little sad as he said the last part.

Harry was feeling much better. “He really was your best friend, wasn’t he?” he asked.

“Is, Harry. Is my best friend,” Lucius said sternly. “He won’t die. He can’t. He’s too much of a bastard to go that easily.”

Harry thought about that, then laughed heartily. “You’re absolutely right. I know how he’d go out, though.”

“How?” Lucius inquired.

“Screaming at me, calling me an insolent brat, and taking as many House points as humanly possible before he did.”

Lucius grinned. “Yes, I can see that perfectly.”

Harry rolled his head towards the blond. “I don’t know how anyone ever thought that you were the bad guy.”

Lucius said nothing, but inclined his head in query.

“Bad guys with dimples aren’t very convincing,” Harry smirked.

“Scared you, didn’t I?” Lucius growled, moving closer.

Harry giggled. “I was twelve, for Merlin’s sake!”

"A very precocious twelve, I would say. You lost me my house-elf, you know."

"No, I didn't. You freed him yourself. I saw you, remember?"

"Harry..." Lucius growled.

"And that's not scary, either. You're sexy when you do that," Harry grinned.

"You've been saying things like that all night. I seem to recall you saying you liked my arse, and that I was sex on two legs. Well, I am, but that's beside the point."

Harry laughed. "I really like being with you," Harry said softly. "No one else makes me feel the way you do."

"And how is that?" Lucius asked, just as softly.

"Alive. You make me feel alive, like there's something to look forward to," Harry answered, biting his bottom lip.

"And you're not frightened of me?" Lucius purred, taking a step forward.

"Nope," Harry laughed, stepping back.

“Suit yourself,” Lucius replied, pouncing quickly and Apparating them both to a well-appointed bedroom suite. He pinned Harry to the door, holding his hands above his head. “What about now? Are you frightened of me?” he said menacingly.

Harry’s breath quickened, his heart racing with arousal. “No,” he breathed. “Should I be?”

“Maybe,” Lucius whispered. He drew a finger along the side of Harry’s face, ending at his chin, which Lucius tilted up towards him. “I’m glad you got rid of your glasses. You have such wondrous eyes,” he husked, leaning forward to capture soft lips.

A sigh escaped Harry’s mouth as Lucius teased his lips open with his tongue. Lucius pressed forward slowly, tasting Harry, sucking lightly on his tongue, tickling the roof of his mouth. He released the brunet’s hands, which stole immediately into his hair. The kiss became urgent, bodies rubbing against each other, pants and sighs issuing forth. Harry pulled his mouth away.

“You did,” he panted.

“Did what?” Lucius asked, sucking the flesh of his throat.

“You took my breath away,” Harry answered. “Lucius, please, I need…”

Lucius took a step back. Removing his outer robes, he reached for the shirt buttons of the raven haired man in front of him. He pulled Harry’s shirt from his trousers, opening it, kissing the exposed skin. He reached the waistband of Harry’s trousers, passing a hand over the hard flesh within. Harry moaned.

“Do you want this?” Lucius asked, his voice low.

“Yes,” Harry gasped. “Want you….please…” Harry closed his eyes, whimpering at the sound of his zipper being drawn down. Cool air kissed the hot skin of his cock, and a hand enclosed him. Harry let his head fall back, thudding softly against the wooden door.

Lucius' tongue painted a wet stripe from root to tip, and Harry cried out. “Oh….” was all he managed, as his cock was swallowed, encased in velvet. One hand stole to his mouth, the other moving the silvery blond curtain aside in order to watch.

If there was a medal for cock-sucking, Lucius would receive the Order of Merlin, First Class. He sucked alternately soft and hard, sliding off the length and mouthing Harry’s balls, taking each one in turn, then returning to engulf him once more.

“Oh gods, Luc…” Harry sobbed, moving his cock in and out, fucking the blond’s mouth. He felt Lucius swallow against him, humming, and Harry came apart. “Yes!” he screamed, emptying himself down the blond’s throat, knees knocking, barely able to stand. Lucius released him with a soft pop and kissed him deeply.

“You taste so sweet,” Lucius breathed into his mouth, “I knew you would. You are so beautiful when you come. I could watch you forever.” With a wave of his hand, he spelled the clothing from their bodies, and led Harry to the huge bed in the center of the room. Harry crawled to the center, holding his arms out. Lucius slid into them, running his hands over the brunet’s body.

They kissed intermittently, hands sliding over skin and muscle, fingers grazing a nipple here, ghosting over a hip there. Harry brought Lucius’ left forearm up close.

“Harry, don’t,” Lucius pleaded, but Harry ignored him. He traced the faded pattern of the Dark Mark, pale against the paler Malfoy skin. He kissed the soft inner arm of the former Death Eater, pushing some latent magic into the mark. He whispered a long forgotten spell in Parseltongue, one he’d discovered while researching the nature of the marks before the end of the war. Lucius flinched as the area flared with heat, almost as searing as when the mark was branded into his forearm. Harry traced the outline with his tongue, lapping at the skin, blowing on it softly. When Lucius dared to look, all that remained of the Dark Mark was a green and silver serpent, coiling around the blond’s arm, fangs open near the wrist. He stared, eyes wide, and Harry stared back. “What did you do?” Lucius asked, a little fearfully.

“I released the remainder of the magic left in the mark,” Harry answered, kissing his arm again. “I did it for Sev, too. They think it might help release him from his coma, but…”

“But why, Harry? Why me?” Lucius wanted to know.

“Because you see me,” Harry replied, raising a hand to stroke the older man’s face. “You see Harry, not the ‘hero.’ And because you said…”

“Said what?”

Harry looked into those mesmerizing silver eyes. “You said that I was beautiful. No one’s ever said that to me.”

"You are, you know,” Lucius said, wonder still in his voice. “I don’t know how to thank you,” he said, folding the smaller man into his embrace.

“I do,” Harry said from the confines of the blond’s arms. He looked up. “Make love to me. Just this once. I want to know what it feels like.”
Lucius pulled back abruptly. “You mean you’ve never-”

“No, not that,” Harry assured him. “I’ve had sex, hell, lots of sex. But I always had to top, except once or twice. And that wasn’t…he wasn’t very good.”

“Who was it, if you don’t mind my asking?” Lucius said, carding his fingers through Harry’s black locks.

Harry made a face. “Justin Finch-Fletchley.”

Lucius smirked. “Well, no wonder,” he chuckled. “He’s Muggle-born, too many prejudices in the way. It’s not that acceptable in their world, you know.”

“I know,” Harry sighed. “Too bad, though, he’s not bad looking.”

“I’m better looking, “ Lucius said, grinning.

Harry looked at the beautiful man lying next to him. “Meh, you’ll do.” But he couldn’t keep a straight face, and laughed merrily, Lucius joining in.

“Brat,” he said, nipping at Harry’s bottom lip. He slid his body over Harry’s, and Harry realized that all of this was a cooling off period for both of them, to keep things from spiraling out of control too fast. He wanted Lucius desperately, but he wanted it to last, to be able to savor the experience, in case it never happened again. He wrapped his arms around the blond’s neck, crossing his hands at the wrists in order to plunge them into the almond-scented locks. It vaguely occurred to him that cyanide smelled like almonds, also, which made it even more intoxicating to him. If he had to go, he wanted to go coming and screaming.

Lucius placed soft kisses over Harry’s face, jaw and neck, up and down his arms, grinding his hips into the brunet’s. Lucius raised himself up to gaze upon the former Gryffindor, running a thumb over passion-swelled lips, fingers over the tanned chest. He leaned down again to take a nipple into his mouth, worrying the nub with his teeth, soothing with his tongue. His long hair swept over Harry, teasing nerves already frazzled from desire.

“Like silk,” Harry sighed, arching into that sinful mouth. “Just like silk….please….need you…need you inside me, please….”

Lucius held a hand out and caught a small bottle of oil. He flicked the cork off with a thumbnail and tipped it onto his fingers. The smell of almonds filled the air.

“You hair smells like that,” Harry whispered, inhaling deeply.

“It’s my favorite scent,” Lucius explained. “Well, that and Polo, of course.”

Harry grinned. “Yeah, that’s what started all of this, isn’t it?”

“For you, perhaps,” Lucius said, teasing Harry’s entrance with a slippery finger. “I went there tonight to find you.”

“Why?” Harry asked, writhing from the sensation of the finger sliding up and down his cleft.

“Because I wanted you,” Lucius murmured, taking his lips and sliding his finger inside at once.

“Oh, Gods,” Harry cried out, back coming off of the soft mattress, holding onto the blond for dear life. Lucius moved his finger in and out slowly, adding another and searching for the sweet spot. The raven haired young man screamed when he did, and he added a third finger, stretching him thoroughly, not wanting to cause him any pain. “Now, Lucius, please inside me now,” Harry begged.

Lucius slowly withdrew his fingers and placed the tip of his cock at the pink hole, guiding himself in an inch at a time. He waited until Harry relaxed a bit, but before he could move again, Harry impaled himself on the blond’s large cock with a gasp, tearing an identical one from Lucius. The older wizard lowered himself to his forearms as Harry wrapped his legs around his waist. Lucius began to thrust into that clenching heat with a rolling of his hips, angled to hit Harry’s prostate with each pass. “I’m going to make you come just from this,” he whispered, tasting those sweet lips again and again. “So hot…so tight…made for me…can you feel it?”

“Yessss,” Harry hissed, lost in the moment. “Made for you…want you…want to belong to you…” he whimpered, meeting each push.

“Mine…yes…” Lucius confirmed with a wicked thrust, sending Harry over the edge, coating their torsos with warmth, screaming his pleasure. It was too much, and Lucius spent himself with a groan, filling Harry with his seed. He collapsed, holding Harry through his post-orgasmic shudders, kissing him as though he couldn’t get enough. After a few moments, he spelled them both clean and summoned the duvet from the foot of the bed to cover them.

“Harry? Are you all right, love?” Lucius asked, concerned that the young wizard had not uttered a sound.

“Mmmm, m’fine,” Harry said, stretching like a cat then curling up beside Lucius. “How many orgasms does that make?”

Lucius frowned in confusion, then laughed. “I’m not sure…eight or nine I think, including the alcoholic ones.”

“Think we can make it an even dozen?” Harry asked innocently.

“Is there a time limit?” Lucius countered, grinning evilly.

“Not unless you want me to go,” Harry replied softly.

Lucius sobered a bit. “Do you want to?” he asked, his eyes betraying his emotions: apprehension, desire, maybe even love.

Harry snuggled closer. “No. I belong to you now. You said so.”

“So I did,” Lucius said, relief washing over him. “Would you like a drink before the next round? I can get you an Orgasm, if you like,” he said playfully.

Harry groaned.

~fin~