The Heat Is Gone

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 Has Gone…..by Samayel


Harry sat by the window in his dorm room, staring at the gray skies of autumn. The heat of summer had quickly evaporated, and normal weather had returned to England and Europe. The last two months hadn’t held any reason for him to visit the baths by night, but that hadn’t stopped him.

‘How the hell did I let it get to this? I’m a fucking idiot. No other explanation for it. God, I hate my life.’

His musings had been working their way toward this conclusion ever since the year began, and his little ‘arrangement’ with Malfoy was at the core of it.

It hadn’t seemed like much when it had started. Exciting, a little dangerous, and definitely hot, sexy and fun, but somewhere along the way, things had slid entirely out of control.

Like a junkie, willing to do anything for his next score, Harry had allowed Malfoy to maneuver every meeting between them in a direction that best suited the callow blond. It all led to this…this weird, exquisite shame. Mingled lust and a burning sense of humiliation.

’How did I let it go this far? I knew what he was like. Why couldn’t I have thought with something other than my cock just this once? Damn it!’

It hadn’t been all bad. There were a lot of memories of the last two months that were downright pleasant, as well as bloody wicked sexy. That was what lulled Harry into complacency. That was what had made this situation possible. Otherwise, he was sure he’d never have let it happen.

Wanking together quickly bored Malfoy, who was obviously debauched and jaded to a remarkable degree, and Harry had been oh so pathetically eager to try something new. Things had progressed with an astonishing quickness that made Harry blush even when he was alone. The things he’d done! God, if anyone knew, they’d look at him in shock, and probably cluck their tongues in knowing shame.

Ice gray eyes had burned into him, distracting him from the rest of the magnificent naked body he’d been helplessly ogling while he wanked.

‘Not this time, Potter. You do it for me. I’ll do it for you. Everyone wins, right?’

That fucking raised eyebrow and wicked smirk had left him breathless. He’d stretched out a hand without even thinking, and hesitantly closed it around Malfoy’s erect cock. That choice had sealed a pact between them, and Harry hadn’t given a thought to what price might come from it.

Malfoy’s smirk spread into a grin while he groaned with pleasure, and then he’d slipped a hand down to Harry’s own bobbing and weeping erection. The hands that touched Harry there were manicured silk, smooth and deft. Between strokes, fingertips brushed against his inner thighs, and across the front of his sac, rendering him almost slack jawed with pleasure.

He had Draco’s cock in his hand. IN HIS HAND! Thick, warm, sensitive flesh at his command, his to use as he pleased. Draco Malfoy was making soft noises of pure pleasure because of Harry’s manipulations. It was a high that no drug could ever have matched.

It hadn’t taken long, just a few minutes of red-cheeked, flustered stroking, and they’d come within seconds of each other.

Harry went first, overwhelmed by the sensation of a skillful hand working his shaft and ever so gently brushing his glans in the process. Thick and pearly gobs erupted outward, trickling down Draco’s wrist and spattering against the other boy’s hips and legs.

With a feverish gleam in his eyes, Draco gave a harsh moan and let the excitement from seeing Harry come in his hand carry him over the top. Short, hot jets of come leaped past Harry’s hand and struck his arm and stomach, as well as spotting the floor beneath them beside Harry’s own spent seed. He kept pulling until the last trickling drops rolled down his thumb, and Malfoy looked utterly replete.

Like an idiot, Harry had been swamped with emotions at that moment. He’d felt so close to Draco right then, so pathetically grateful for an orgasm that had been incredible, that he’d leaned forward without thinking, hesitant and full of trembling uncertainty, meaning to kiss Draco.

Draco’s fingertip was against his lip a second later, stopping any further action, and the gray eyes that had been so feverish before were now cool and detached.

Draco turned the wrist that Harry had left his semen on to face Harry. Then he took Harry’s arm in his free hand, and pulled it toward his own face. Draco never stopped looking Harry in the eyes while he delicately lapped away every trace of his own come from Harry’s hand and arm. A soft, pink tongue expertly laved away each drop and smear, and Harry watched in awe.

Harry wasn’t sure what to do at first, still reeling from the rejection of his kiss, but Draco had made it plain enough what he expected. Harry stuck his tongue out cautiously, and let it brush against the nearest spot of cooling sperm on Draco’s hand.

Slight hints of salt and chalk assailed his taste buds, and the texture was so strange, nothing he’d ever imagined…and Draco’s hand actually held a scent that Harry had only ever experienced alone before. It was his own scent, now emanating from the hand of the person who had just touched him more intimately than anyone else ever had. His mind reeled, and Harry acquiesced, lapping away the heavy droplets he’d left behind on Malfoy’s perfectly manicured hands.

The hand pulled away gently when Harry was done, and Draco stepped away calmly, took up his wand, and uttered a few Cleaning Charms with a dismissive calm that made Harry want to scream. Then he stepped into the bath like Harry wasn’t even there.

Harry hadn’t bathed yet, either, and though he joined Malfoy in the warm water, there was no intimacy in it, and no conversation between them as they cleaned themselves.

Malfoy finished first, and was drying himself while Harry scrubbed away shampoo and soap with in a distracted state of surreal disbelief.

‘You did that remarkably well. I liked it. One thing, Potter, and don’t forget it. Kisses are for lovers, and we aren’t lovers. You’re a lot more interesting than I thought, and this is all well and good, but I’ll thank you to not complicate it with that Hufflepuff shit. If you can manage that, there’s no telling what kind of things we might get up to if you want, but if you can’t handle it, there’s no reason to show up here tomorrow. Nothing personal, that’s just how it is.’

And torn between Draco’s praise and the promise of more, and the biting realization that he was utterly out of his league and effectively swimming with a shark, Harry had nodded assent with an expressionless face, letting Draco know that he accepted the terms.

Harry had felt weak and stupid for letting conditions like that pass. There was no affection between them, just lust. There was nothing in this but raw sex, and Malfoy was comfortable in that environment. Harry could never be that way. Just by having touched Draco, a connection he couldn’t ignore had been forged. Now he had to live with the consequences, and hide any hint of feeling, if he wanted to enjoy their arrangement’s advantages, or even see Draco regularly. He’d let this happen, and it hadn’t stopped there.

The Prefect baths were silent as a grave, making Harry’s efforts to undress a noisy interruption. Malfoy’d been late again. Harry looked back over the past week and sighed. Whatever he’d suffered silently for, the week had held a lot of pleasure.

They’d changed the routine after a few days. It didn’t matter who got off first or last anymore. Draco had stepped behind Harry in mid wank, and pressed his body close to Harry’s, letting his hard cock rub against Harry’s arse while he pulled skillfully at Harry’s cock.

He’d loved the feeling of warm skin so tight and close against his own, the soft puffs of Malfoy’s breath against the back of his neck, and the dizzying sensations that came from knowing that Draco’s cock was pulsing so hard that he could feel Draco’s heartbeat through it even against the cleft of his backside.

Draco had suddenly twined a hand into Harry’s hair just before biting hard near the nape of Harry’s neck. That tipped the balance. Harry had simply melted, leaning back against Draco for support while he came copiously, slavishly grateful to be given an orgasm this good by anyone.

Within seconds of his own release, he realized that Draco was rubbing hard against his backside, and in gratitude, he matched that motion, trying his best to give something in return for the pleasure he’d just experienced. Draco almost growled approval, rutting hard against Harry, until a half minute later, hot come was making the contact between them slick and easy, and Malfoy was grunting with audible satisfaction, coating Harry’s lower back, arse cheeks and legs with the sticky outpouring of his lust.

Malfoy had finished by giving a soft pinch to Harry’s bum, then unwound himself from Harry and returned to the familiar routine of casting Cleaning Charms and bathing. The only exception to their usual silent, after-sex rituals were Malfoy’s laughing smiles, which Harry hadn’t figured out the source for, and the gift Draco had given him. A bottle of conditioner for his hair that had probably cost quite a bit.

Harry had fumbled out a question, wondering why Draco would suddenly give him a gift or show any sign of affection, and he really didn’t want to embarrass himself by admitting the way his heart leaped over such a little thing.

‘It’s just product, Potter. You obviously need it. You’d look fairly sharp if you sorted out that mess on your head. I think it might improve my enjoyment of all this if I didn’t wind up getting my fingers caught in that travesty you call hair. Enjoy it.’

And that had been that. Nothing more was said on the subject, but Harry found that the stuff worked incredibly, smoothing out cowlicks that had been his bane for years. As insulting as Draco occasionally was, the sneaking suspicion arose that, just perhaps, Draco felt a bit more than he admitted.

Harry‘s musings were interrupted by the sound of the door opening. He took a deep breath and peeled away the last of his clothes, eager for whatever Draco chose to share that night.

That sentimentality had only served to lure Harry further into the web of Draco’s lust. A stupid, horny, teenage fly, trapped in the spider web of Draco’s need, eager to be sucked dry and left withered and empty as an object lesson to others. What a fool he’d been.

Draco never let things fall into routine. Their time together had grown more complicated with every passing day, and Harry was always certain to find a new pleasure when he met Draco in the baths.

One day he discovered that nipples could be a source of enjoyment, and on another he learned just how sensitive the flesh along his hipbones could be. Masturbation had opened the door to the rest, and now frottage had become the rule of the day.

Draco never let Harry rub off against his backside, stopping Harry with no more than a look, and guiding him into Draco’s arms to enjoy the act face to face. Well, almost face to face, since Draco, apparently unwilling to risk a stray kiss, kept his head turned from Harry’s neck.

It had still been grand for Harry, pressing Draco back against the cool stone of the wall, feeling his cock slide deliciously against the silken skin of Draco’s hips and stomach. Draco’s cock was canted to one side and leaving small, cool dabs of pre-come that taunted Harry without mercy.

Frustrated by the inability to kiss, and unwilling to just mindlessly pant his way to orgasm, Harry finally bit down hard behind Draco’s right ear. Draco gave a tense cry, stiffened against Harry all at once, and shuddered while he coated both their stomachs and groins with come.

Harry let loose a second later, savoring the slick friction between their bodies while he further soaked their joined hips with seed.

He’d grown more confident, and more aggressive, as the weeks had passed. With a hand firmly holding Malfoy’s chest to the wall, Harry dropped to his knees. He’d tasted his own come more than once by now, and Malfoy’s as well on several occasions. There was no shyness in him when he licked Draco’s body clean of every trace of their respective orgasms, even working his way teasing along the flesh of the cock he had previously only touched with his hand.

Draco had actually looked impressed for the first time, winded and wide-eyed against the wall, but despite complimenting Harry with real sincerity, it hadn’t changed a thing between them. Malfoy had his boundaries, and nothing budged them.

It had changed the dynamic between them a little though, and Harry mistook that change for progress in his eagerness to believe better things about Draco. In hindsight, he knew he’d been superimposing his wishes over Draco’s actions, reading more into things than was actually there. At the time, he’d thought he felt a change, and maybe, just maybe, he had, but, ultimately, it wasn’t enough to make a difference.

‘Let me do something for you, Potter. Think of it as a kindness. This little thing between us has been a lot of fun, but I’d like something…more, and I expect you’ll like it, too.’

It had started easily enough, with a conversation that warmed Harry immediately, reminding him painfully of how much he hungered for something a little more intimate between them. The promise of that, and the hungry shine in Draco’s eyes, made his interest a certainty.

‘I assume you’ve never had a blow job before…’ Harry nodded, his heart pounding with excitement. ‘and it follows that you haven’t given one before, either?’ Harry nodded again, this time smiling. It was easy to see where Draco was going with this.

They were already peeling off clothes with identical calm and familiarity. There was no ticklish fumbling from Harry these days. It was easier to talk, easier to smile, and easier to drop pretense and get right to sex every time they met.

‘Well,’ the blond looked at Harry with the usual wicked smirk that Harry now adored, ‘I don’t like sloppy, talent-less head. And short of finding you some other teacher, I don’t see any better trained person to show you how it’s done than myself. I just want you to pay attention, because believe me…there will be a test on this later. Sit or stand, your choice really.’

‘Sounds good to me.’ Harry leaned back against the wall for support. ‘I can promise this. I don’t think I’ll be forgetting even a second of this.’ His own smirk was a match for Draco’s.

‘Oh…you won’t. Don’t worry about that. I’m just concerned that when I snuff your mind out like a candle, there won’t be enough sense left in you to get me off the same way! Enjoy.’ Then Malfoy knelt, winked once, and Harry’s cock was engulfed in a warm, wet mouth, touching off sensations he hadn’t even imagined were possible.

He tried to remember the way Draco’s tongue slithered around the head of his cock, and the way those elegant hands had manipulated his iron hard and aching length. It was fucking unreal. Malfoy gave head like it was a work of art, and Harry was his living canvas. Both the blonde’s hands, as well as his lips and tongue, were in action.

When Draco occasionally paused the rhythm to swallow Harry’s cock whole, the feeling of his glans against the back of Draco’s throat made him want to scream. Harry felt tears leaking down his face, but didn’t have the time or energy to care. At this moment, his entire universe had narrowed to the beautiful face that was at work in his lap, driving Harry over a precipice beyond imagination.

One soft hand was massaging the muscles behind his balls, the other was smoothly stroking his shaft, and Draco’s mouth was working its own magic at the head. Holding out longer than a few minutes was a lost cause.

Harry tried to keep his hands off of Draco and pressed his palms to the wall behind him, but the surge that tore through him was more than he could control, and he grabbed Draco’s head with both hands, whimpering out of desperation.

Draco’s neck strained while he kept control of the situation, and drained Harry mercilessly as he came, each hard jolt matched by sudden suction from Draco’s expertly pursed lips. Not a drop was wasted, and Harry was weeping openly between cries.

This was when Harry’s reserve failed him utterly. Head on fire with the magic of orgasm, eyes glazed and breath ragged, he watched Draco pull away from his softening cock with a triumphant sneer. The words came before he could stop, half a whisper, half a prayer.

‘Dra…Draco. I love you.’ Harry felt immediate shame for saying it. That in itself made it worse, because words like those should never have been something to be ashamed of. Draco’s silence terrified him, and the notion that he’d spoiled their arrangement for good went careening through Harry’s mind.

Draco stood up calmly, looked at Harry with unexpected warmth, as if searching Harry’s mind for something only Draco could sense. Then the mask dropped back into place, and Draco lifted his chin and drawled a simple command while holding his own jutting erection out toward Harry.

‘Prove it.’ The words were as icy as an executioner’s axe, and as final as death itself.

Frantic to please and satisfy Draco, Harry dropped to his knees and went to work. When he took Draco’s cock into his mouth, it was with a hungry desperation that wasn’t borne of mere lust, but an all consuming need to prove that he’d meant those words. Anything to make Draco reconsider his boundaries, and anything to keep Draco from punishing Harry for his temerity by ending their ’relationship’.

Harry may have been inexpert, but he had Draco’s performance fresh in his mind, and he labored as hard as he could to match it. Even if he fell short of that mark, his sincerity and effort paid off handsomely enough. Draco made obvious noises of pleasure, and Harry could feel the tensing muscles that presaged orgasm easier than ever before.

He was joyfully conscious of the heat, thickness and soft textured skin that slid across his tongue as he worked. It had been an act of heroism to get the whole thing into the back of his throat while suppressing the urge to gag, but he’d done it, and now he did it every so often, with Malfoy’s sighs and moans to goad him on.

Draco came almost without warning, one hand in Harry’s hair, holding Harry’s head still, and the other against the wall to keep him upright as he came. Come flooded Harry’s mouth, and he hurriedly swallowed again and again, trying not let a drop spill, wanting more than anything to prove that he could give Draco something that others couldn’t. He even lapped the last sticky drops from the tip of Draco’s cock, carefully squeezing near the base with his left hand to ensure that the last of it had reached him at the other end.

Harry laid his head against Draco’s thigh, and his palms were flat against Draco’s hips as he remained kneeling before the one he’d worked so hard to please. Catching his breath and savoring the unique flavor that was Draco’s come, Harry felt Draco’s hand unclench from his hair, and stroke gently down the side of his head, fingertips stroking his cheek gently, almost affectionately. His heart buoyed.

‘That was good. Really good, Harry. I guess you were taking notes. I appreciate the effort. Thank you.’

Neither of them moved for another minute or so. Harry quietly accepted that he’d been forgiven his little slight, and was filled with a sublime bliss by the gesture Draco had shown him. Weeks of sex, and this was the first time Draco had ever called him by his first name.

How absurd that he should be so grateful for such a thing, something that should have been his rightful due, but then, there, all he’d cared about had been pleasing Draco.

Draco had won. Harry knew it. There was no question of equality between them, and if Draco had had any doubts about whether he held the reins in this affair, those doubts were surely shattered by now. Harry had given up any pretense that might have protected him, and only mercy on Draco’s part could keep him from grief.

It had been a slim hope at best, and Harry snorted in derision now, looking back at his own innocence and folly. What did he think would happen? Ride off into the sunset together as a happy couple? A house in the suburbs with a vine covered picket fence?

Even at that telling point, the worst had still been yet to come.


TBC!!!