The Heat Is Back!

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.


The Heat Is Back…..by Samayel


Harry knew all too well what Malfoy’s cryptic statements had meant. Perhaps there was a bit of truth in what the Sorting Hat had said. Even veiled by Draco’s Slytherin urge to obfuscate everything with vague hints, Harry knew an invitation when he heard one.

But an invitation from Malfoy? It could be a trap, or even just a simple prank. But what if it were true?

There was no question of whether the situation was possible. Malfoy’s reputation was a muddled one that suggested an openness to sex with boys, as was Harry’s. The only real question was whether the offer was genuine, or hid some Slytherin plot.

Seeing Draco naked the night before had changed the dynamic between them irrevocably. Draco hadn’t flinched in the slightest when he’d seen the erection tenting Harry’s pajamas. In fact, he’d looked amused, comfortable, and speculative.

The knowledge that one of his schoolmates was comfortable with the idea of a tryst with another boy was nerve jangling. Malfoy be damned, Harry hadn’t seen anyone since he’d broken up with Ginny (which had been as much her doing as his) and the prospect of Draco Malfoy, who was reputedly sexually experienced AND skillful sounded better than ever.

Admittedly, his history with Draco Malfoy was colorful, if ‘colorful’ could be interpreted as ‘filled with tension and nearly blind rage’. But that had all changed during their sixth year. Malfoy’s comments had become subtler, and he hadn’t cast as much as a stray hex in Harry’s direction in over a year and a half. Harry certainly didn’t trust him, but there was a real possibility that, for once, he wasn’t in any danger.

Then there was the appalling lack of sex in his life. It may have been easy for some, but Harry’s fame added certain complications. He’d rather liked Cho…except for her wild mood swings. He’d really liked Ginny, but she seemed almost like a sister to Harry, who had been unofficially adopted by the Weasleys.

Oliver Wood had shot Harry down during his final year at Hogwarts, but at least he’d been kind about it. He’d just felt that Harry was too young, and needed someone who would be around more than six months. He’d given Harry a single wicked snog session and wished him good luck just before he left school, and that had been that.

Last year, he taken to occasionally wanking alongside Seamus, who was not only cute, but was friendly, outgoing, and had an easy familiarity that made him seem comfortable to be around, and fun to snog. It had cooled off the minute Seamus found a real boyfriend, and Harry was back where he’d started.

It wasn’t as if he didn’t know anything about sex. Just not half as much as he’d like to. To Harry, seventeen seemed awfully old to be fumbling around without so much as a decent date in weeks.

His mind was made up. The Prefect baths were waiting, and curfew and risks be damned, Malfoy was an opportunity for something wilder than the usual, and Harry wasn’t wasting another chance.

Malfoy had caught him off his guard, and this time he knew what he’d be seeing when he got there. However glib and cool Malfoy meant to play it, Harry would be ready to answer accordingly.

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Ten o’clock came and went while Harry waited in the Prefect baths. He’d been fifteen minutes early, and had been waiting ever since. He had peeled away his shirt and sat down on the bench to wait, nervous but still half hard from excitement.

Last time had been an accident, but this visit to the baths was a deliberate and purposeful one, with sex at the center of it. That knowledge added a wicked thrill to the entire thing. The only missing element was fucking Malfoy!

Maybe he’d been set up? It was a quarter past the hour and Draco hadn’t shown. At least Harry had his Cloak. He could make a getaway if he had to, but no one else had come, and no threats had materialized. He wished he’d brought his Map, but it hadn’t seemed necessary.

What a gyp! The only upside to the entire waste of time was that, now that he was here, he could still go ahead and use the enchanted baths. In the sweltering heat of the afternoon, he’d wished he could be here cooling off in the bath, but there just hadn’t been time. Now he had the time to enjoy it, and with no Malfoy in sight, it looked like a cool bath was all he was getting tonight. How utterly disappointing!

Harry peeled away the rest of his clothes and piled them on the bench alongside his Cloak and shirt. He entered the edge of the bath closest to the bench, just in case he needed to gather his things and leave quickly.

The water was perfect, as always. Tepid enough to be comfortable in the unseasonable heat that had struck England, just as it was always piping hot in the depths of winter. Harry slipped in, bar of soap in hand, and sat down near the edge, almost shoulders deep in the water. This was the perfect way to beat the heat!

A little judicious scrubbing later, and Harry felt clean and refreshed, if still somewhat disappointed. He ducked his head beneath the water, and scrubbed the shampoo from his hair thoroughly before he surfaced.

The first thing he saw, albeit somewhat blurrily for lack of his glasses, was Draco Malfoy looking down at him in vague annoyance when he emerged.

“Pathetic. Soap and shampoo, but no conditioner? No wonder your hair always looks like your owl nested in it! Really, Potter. Take an interest in yourself for once. It can’t hurt, and I’m sure you won’t save the world by abstaining from good grooming.”

The cruel smirk was in place, and the sarcastic tone was familiar, but it seemed more playful than it used to be. Harry labored to keep his face as bored and neutral as Malfoy’s own. Giving away his eagerness would give Malfoy way too much credit.

“Just enjoying a cool dip before bed. Wasn’t really worried about making myself a fashion model. You’re running a little late. Busy night?”

If he hadn’t been up to his neck in cool water, Harry would have broken out in a fine sweat when he saw Draco loosening his tie. As it was, he felt a slight flush rise in his cheeks. Draco appeared to be peeling away clothes with no regard for Harry’s presence. God! Why couldn’t he have that kind of calm?

Malfoy pulled a face that revealed irritation. “I caught some lovebirds en route to the Astronomy Tower. I hate missing my bath, but duty called. I would have kept it short and sweet, but the prat wanted to argue with me. The silly shit actually had the nerve to draw his wand. I hexed him with the ‘Constant Flatulence’ Curse. No one’s going to be getting romantic within twenty feet of him for the next few days! Ignorant fuckwit. Why do you care, anyway? Lonely in here, Potter?”

The ball was back in Harry’s court. If he admitted to being here to see Draco, it handed a tiny victory to Malfoy. Only faked nonchalance would keep the balance of power between them now. Malfoy wasn’t even looking in Harry’s direction while he spoke, but he was calmly removing his clothes at a rate that Harry found alarming.

The body that had firmly lodged itself in Harry’s memory the night before was suddenly naked in front of him again, and Harry could only pretend to be busy scrubbing himself down again. Inwardly, his heart was pounding like a bass drum, and his mind was on fire with the possibilities that were in now in front of him.

“Hardly! Just needed a cool dip before I sleep. This is the only time I can get one. I know you said you use the place about ten every night, but I’m not staying up and wandering the halls all night just to dodge your schedule. No offense, but when I want a bath, I’m taking one.”

Draco smiled like a cat and sat down on the bench lazily. He leaned back comfortably and spread his legs, sliding his hand toward his groin and the rapidly growing cock that dangled there.

Harry’s eyes bulged. A part of him hadn’t really believed that anything would come of Draco’s suggestive behavior the night before. Obviously, that part of him had been glaringly wrong. There was something incredibly, wickedly naughty and decidedly sensual about Draco’s casual attitude regarding being watched. The blond boy appeared to like it! Harry’s faint blush became a fiery one, and he choked out his surprise.

“Wh-what the hell are you doing?”

Draco raised an eyebrow and smirked cruelly. “I heard your statement about taking a bath when you want to. No offense taken. But I told you I come here every night at this time, and I have mine off before I bathe. You can be here if you want, but I want a good wank and a cool bath, and you aren’t changing my schedule.”

With that, Draco slipped his hand around his newly stiffened length, and slowly began to pull, almost exclusively around the head of his cock, while giving small sighs of satisfaction, and periodically closing his eyes, only to open them again and stare directly into Harry’s wide and shocked green eyes.

Harry was near the edge of the bath, discreetly hiding his own quickly engorged member from view. For all his plans of staying glib and cool in front of Draco, he was feeling like a complete naïf next to Draco’s implacable calm.

Draco was only a few feet away, long legs spread and utterly naked, pulling himself off with relaxed determination, right in front of Harry. The tensing muscles of Draco’s inner thighs were clearly visible. Harry’s eyes followed them right to Draco’s groin, and the pale thatch of light colored hair that surrounded the other boy’s cock. Draco had heavy balls that hung low and loose in the heat, and effectively covered any view that Harry might have had of the intimate spot just behind them.

Draco’s right arm was working smoothly, while his left hand moved deftly to the base of his cock, thumb around the top, fingers behind the sac, idly pressing his own perineum. The rigid tool in Draco’s hand slowly reddened, and its veins were becoming a little more distinct, while his right hand stayed busy at the head.

A husky, lazy voice interrupted Harry’s awestruck observation.

“Potter…make yourself useful. Step back and stand up. Wanna see you.”

Draco’s voice may have been soft and distracted, but it was hypnotic to Harry. His legs were already moving back, away from the edge of the bath, toward the back step that would raise him high enough to be seen from the bench.

It hadn’t been like this around Seamus. Something about the Irish boy’s cheerful disposition had made the matter fun and almost innocent. Just a harmless shared wank between friends who both needed relief at the moment. This…this was another world…and an entirely different affair.

Harry stood up, exposing his own swollen cock, which had been entirely neglected while he’d been watching Draco. Aside from the soft noises from Draco, the water dripping from Harry was the only sound in the room.

He stood motionless, almost afraid to touch himself and the break the spell between them. Draco’s eyes flicked lazily across the details of Harry’s body, and Harry felt the scrutiny more intensely than ever before. Nudity wasn’t out of place in the communal living arrangements of Hogwarts, but this was another matter altogether.

“Go on. Get out of the bath. Lean against the wall. You look like you need to relieve some pressure, Potter. Just do it.”

Draco’s words were delivered with the same lust-laced tone as before, but with a faint air of smug satisfaction.

Harry stepped out the bath, and Draco’s appreciative hiss of breath could be heard when Harry turned his back to Draco. He leaned back against the far wall for support, and wrapped his own hand around his aching erection, more around the center of it than Draco had, as his own head was particularly sensitive, and needed little attention.

Draco smiled and his gray eyes shone with a feral light while Harry tipped his head back and closed his eyes, pulling quickly and roughly at himself, given over completely to the need to come.

In little more than a minute or two, Harry was on the edge of orgasm, and a surge of heat pulsed through him. His mouth was clamped shut, and he was almost holding his breath, This was by far more intense than wanking alone! The muscles of his stomach and thighs tensed sharply, and his knees almost went weak when he came. He let his breath out with an explosive gasp, pulling air back into his lungs with ragged panting breaths, and heavy white droplets spattered the tiles in front of him, one spurt after another.

Harry was depending on the wall behind him to support him, and was finally able to concentrate on the slightly blurry blond on the other side of the small room.

Draco looked ecstatic, wanton, and triumphant. His face was flushed, and his right hand was working furiously. He still had the presence of mind to give Harry a broad wink just before he closed his eyes and tipped his head back as orgasm overtook him.

Draco’s body tensed, muscles flexing in sharp contrast to his formerly relaxed pose, and with a series of groans that broke into relieved laughter, Draco’s cock sprayed long strings of come onto his own chest. Draco kept pulling, his left hand still wrapped around the base and pressing sharply against his perineum, forcing the last drops up and out of his pulsing cock and sending them dripping down his hand and wrist.

Harry was getting control of his swimming vision, and hadn’t the faintest clue what to say. He watched in gasping shock as Draco raised his come coated right hand to his mouth and let his slender, pink tongue slowly and deliberately lap away every drop from between his thumb and fingers, all the while staring at Harry with an almost savage glee.

Draco suddenly reached for his wand and casually Scougified himself clean of the remnants of his orgasm. Then he stood and stretched, his now limp cock hanging flaccid, sated and content, between his pale thighs. A few short steps and he was in the bath that Harry had been in minutes before, casually applying shampoo with an air of routine boredom that practically denied what they’d just done.

Without so much as a glance in Harry’s direction, Draco’s drawl could be heard over the splash of water as he rinsed the shampoo from his hair.

“Potter! Don’t be gauche. At least get your wand and clean up after yourself. I’m sure the other Prefects have no desire to traipse through your leftover spunk.”

Shocked back into motion, Harry picked up his wand and Scourgified the tiles he’d rather liberally splashed with his seed, then silently dressed himself, casting nervous sidelong glances toward Draco’s wet body, and idly wondering how the fuck anyone could be so suave and unflappable after jerking off in front of a classmate and rival.

It was infuriating, being embarrassed into stammering ignorance by Draco’s flippant attitude. It made no sense. On the Quidditch pitch, in the hallways, and in classes, Harry was the equal of any of his classmates, much less Malfoy. Why did he have to turn into a perfect prat as soon as a quick, albeit spectacular, wank was in the offing? It was completely unfair.

Harry was straightening and smoothing his clothes, hating his flustered inability to respond, and getting set to walk away. Just as he turned his back to walk out, Malfoy finally spoke.

“That was good fun. The view was especially nice. You’ve got a good body, Potter. Don’t stay a stranger. Sleep well.” There was no irony or sarcasm detectable in Draco’s drawl.

Harry stood stock still, his back to Malfoy, panicking over what to say. All he could manage was a strangled, “Thanks. It was cool. Good night,” before he slipped out of the room and back into the halls, inwardly screaming at himself for his own stupidity.

He’d never used the magic function of the baths. No cooling magic surrounded him, and the heat of the day was still lingering in the halls, even after dark. It would be a long and uncomfortable night of waking to charm himself cool, but he couldn’t handle the notion of humiliating himself any further in front of Malfoy. Besides, he had the suspicion that any sleep he might get tonight probably would have been interrupted by dreams of a smoldering eyed Draco anyway.

Harry trudged through the halls back to Gryffindor, Cloaked and silent. Sated…and ironically more restless than ever. This…this was going to be the longest year ever.

TBC! (Each chapter will be a stand alone story.)