To the Victor Go the Spoils

Disclaimer: I am just borrowing these characters and the
Quidditch locker room for my own sick purposes, which do not involve profits or
any intention of copyright infringement, as they are clearly not mine.style=\'mso-spacerun:yes\'>  So please don’t sue me, mmk?

To the Victor Go the Spoils

It was just sex.  Just
hard, aching, sweaty, frantic sex on the floor of the Quidditch locker room, a
set of dark green robes discarded to the side while their owner was on hands
and knees, pants pulled down to expose his ass, wrist-guards and all still on…no
time for pleasantries, just pants down and bruised knees.

“How does it feel to be beaten again, Malfoy?” said the boy
currently holding him down as he undid the flies of his pants with one hand,
scarlet robe hanging open, a smirk on his lips, and the snitch he’d caught less
than an hour ago fluttering around them.

“Fuck you, Potter,” the blond replied, eyes on the floor.

Harry bent over him and put his mouth to Draco’s ear.style=\'mso-spacerun:yes\'>  “I think it’s the other way around.”

As Draco shivered in unwilling response, Harry spat into his
hand and began to spread the saliva over his now free and straining cock.style=\'mso-spacerun:yes\'>  Draco listened to the slippery sound of Harry
pumping into his hand in preparation with frustration, anticipation.style=\'mso-spacerun:yes\'>  He wanted it, and at the same time wanted it
over with, this humiliation, this forced submission.

There was a rustle of clothing behind him, and he knew Harry
had now shifted onto his knees, now in perfect position to penetrate him.style=\'mso-spacerun:yes\'>  Next he felt the tip of Harry’s cock pressing
into the tight ring of his anus, followed by the slow, agonizing burn as Harry
pushed slowly forward.

He had to struggle to speak, to taunt his adversary.style=\'mso-spacerun:yes\'>  “Does your Mudblood girlfriend know this is
how you celebrate?”

To his frustration, Harry chuckled, pulled out slightly, and
drove back in.  Draco grunted out his
pain.  “I think she suspects, but she’s
very open-minded, my Hermione.  She
doesn’t mind, so long as I celebrate with her first.”

Curiosity took over. 
“And do you?”

“Oh, always,” he replied with a grin, and Draco fought off a
sting of jealousy.  Perhaps, in spite of
himself, he’d become attached to this…this…whatever it was.

Harry began to set a rhythm, slowly out, slowly in, a sigh
with each bit of pleasure and a grunt with each bit of effort.style=\'mso-spacerun:yes\'>  Soon Draco too began to relax, to fall into
the euphoric rhythm.  This was the
closest he ever came to truly being himself with anyone, to allowing himself to
be vulnerable…to caring for another person. 
He really ought to stop.

Eventually, Harry picked up his pace, driving deeper,
sending hot waves of pure sensation through Draco’s body.style=\'mso-spacerun:yes\'>  Their robes now clung to their sweaty skin,
and there was no longer time or energy left for taunts, for repartee – only the
ecstatic, frenzied rush towards oblivion.

Draco could feel his mind slipping, skipping like a
scratched record as he began to come undone. 
A calloused hand reached down to grasp his cock, working him until he
was on the brink, and then he felt Harry’s seed spilling into him, a sharp
trigger for his own release which spurted onto the floor.

Harry had collapsed against him, braced with his hands on
the floor, but all too soon he lifted himself up and pulled out of him.style=\'mso-spacerun:yes\'>  Draco felt the emptiness start to overwhelm
him and quickly scrambled up off the floor to compose himself.style=\'mso-spacerun:yes\'>  Hurriedly, he pulled up his pants, put his
robes back on, and muttered a cleaning spell at the floor, all while Harry
watched with what might have been amusement.

“Pity this is the last time we’ll play each other,” Harry
said nonchalantly, so perfectly composed to suggest they’d just been chatting
all the time.  “I do enjoy celebrating
this way.”

Draco didn’t respond, but he suspected that his silence gave
away everything to Harry.

“Well…I’ll see you around, Malfoy,” Harry said, somewhat
less composedly, before he turned and left Draco alone in the locker room,
sweaty and flushed in his afterglow.

He’d made a mistake, letting Potter affect him this
much.  He’d made a mistake, starting to
care, starting to let another into his long barricaded heart.style=\'mso-spacerun:yes\'>  He ached now, ached for something he didn’t
know how to find and couldn’t ask for. 
Suddenly, he was somehow incomplete.

But that was ridiculous, he reminded himself as he picked up
his broom and headed back for his dormitory. 
After all, it was just sex….