The Heat Goes Out

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 Goes Out...by Samayel


Harry made his way to the entrance of the Prefect’s baths. It must have been his hundredth such trip by now. He could remember when his feet hadn’t felt like lead on the way here. He could remember when he came here still joyful, eager and full of enthusiasm for whatever new things each night brought.

How cruel that he had lost that naiveté so quickly. Now he only arrived at this door with self hatred and shame, tinged by an aching need for closeness that only Draco Malfoy could fulfill. Harry leaned his head against the stone wall beside the door and closed his eyes. Through this door, sexual satisfaction waited for him, but with a hidden price attached, a price that Malfoy charged in exchange for his favors. A price paid in silence…and grief.

Draco would do his best to please him in every way a lover could, but certain boundaries would never be crossed. Draco would never kiss him on the mouth, as a lover ought to. He would never hug or cuddle, save for a few seconds in the aftermath of orgasm, before he stepped away coolly and bathed himself. Draco would never let Harry touch, rim or in any way penetrate Draco the way he did such things to Harry. There were no compromises on this.

Affection could not be demanded of Draco. He would show it when, where, and how HE was comfortable showing it. Harry’s wants or needs simply didn’t take any precedence.

These were the things that Harry had learned to live with after Draco had lured him into a web of sexual gratification and exploration. Explorations that only stopped when Draco had achieved his penultimate goal…creating in Harry a lust to give himself to Draco as a bottom.

Once Draco had what he wanted, he was pleasant, complimentary, generous, and thorough in his efforts to guarantee Harry’s satiation…as long as his own rules were quietly observed. Harry had compromised and compromised, choosing silence over empty loneliness, again and again. The memory of it made him want to sick up.

Harry was anything but a coward. He faced everything with his heart on his sleeve, and had never run away or shirked a duty when it counted for anything. He wasn’t a coward of the heart either. There had been so many little signs from Draco that something about Harry moved him; tantalizing hints that said that Harry mattered to him more than anyone else ever had, that Harry had let himself fall in love, and sacrificed his own pride just to keep someone who would fuck him with a passion that couldn’t be faked, but wouldn’t kiss him or speak a loving word or two.

So many moments where Draco had looked like he was about to crack and say something he was afraid of. So many glances that hinted at more than lust. Looks that had spoken of growing respect and a comfortable familiarity. But when Harry pushed the matter, Draco always clammed up, shutting down any semblance of affection or intimacy, treating Harry with total indifference, and always, always hanging the threat of terminating their acquaintance and its ‘benefits’ over Harry’s head.

The benefits were obvious. Harry had never been made so horny, or satisfied so completely, in his entire life. In just a few months, he’d gone from being a shy schoolboy who had enjoyed a few discreet snogs and a bit of wanking in the company of others, to being a hungry, yet confident, sexual creature, experienced beyond the wildest dreams of his housemates.

He’d had no real prejudice for or against either gender, but if anyone had told him that, two months later, he would be steeped in more sexual lore than a rent boy, and be Draco Malfoy’s exclusively bottom plaything, he would have thought that person to be barking mad, and would have recommended a room at St. Mungo’s!

Nonetheless, here he was, outside the door of the Prefect baths, cloaked and hidden from the world, ready to slake Draco’s every lust, and willing to ignore a heart that ached for something more every time he looked upon the lean and beautiful blond he’d fallen so helplessly for.

‘How long can I keep doing this? I can’t…I can’t not love…I can’t not say it. It hurts, and I hate it, but I love him.’

Harry clamped his eyes shut rather than let them tear up. He’d finally admitted it. He was in love with Draco. That was what made him weak, and made Draco seem so cold. Harry loved, and Draco wouldn’t allow such weakness in his life. He wouldn’t even allow himself to be reminded that such a thing as love existed.

Harry had an epiphany at that moment, a flash of insight that tore through his mind like the Hogwart’s Express. He was no coward…but Draco was! For all his suave that Harry envied, for all his cool disdain and elegant demeanor, Draco Malfoy was afraid of Harry, and most specifically, afraid of what Harry could mean to Draco.

‘I thought he had all the power…but he only has what I gave him! He’s not in charge of anything! I’m the one really holding the reins, and he let me think it was him! I’ve done everything he asked…I wasn’t afraid of anything but losing my chance with him…and he wouldn’t even give me that chance! He’s the one who still has all the issues, and he’s the one who won’t let go of them and just live!

Draco couldn’t hurt him anymore, not in the glaring face of that realization. Harry had been pulled in by nothing more than good acting…well, that and killer sex, and now he was sure he wouldn’t be playing the fool anymore.

Harry entered the baths with a curious confidence in his step that he hadn’t had even a month ago, before Draco had shattered his confidence by rebuffing his attempt to show something more than lust.

The object of his affection, Draco Malfoy, was already naked and bathing while Harry peeled away his robes and coat. Draco gave only the most marginal of glances in Harry’s direction then returned to scrubbing his neck and shoulders while he spoke.

“You’re a little later than usual…I’d almost given up on seeing you tonight, thought you had a study session of something of the like.”

Harry kept his calm, despite a weird sense of elation that threatened to overwhelm his senses. He kept his voice as level and relaxed as he could.

“Nothing like that. Just needed time alone with my thoughts. Took the long route to get here.”

“Hmmph,” Draco snorted, “It’s been a shit of a day to be a Prefect, and my ‘thoughts’ involve you hurrying out of your clothes and showing me that perfect arse.”

Draco wasn’t usually so crass and lacking in subtlety, which suggested that he really was in a lousy mood, but the demeaning attitude behind the words pricked Harry’s newly reborn pride.

Harry felt his skin pink with anger, and he bit his tongue while he peeled away the last of his clothes. Just as he turned to face Malfoy, Harry had a sudden inspiration. If Draco Malfoy wanted a perfect bottom, Harry would give him just that…in spades…one last time before laying down the law.

He didn’t need Draco’s approval, and he wouldn’t spend another day hating himself for loving Draco, or tolerating Draco’s abuse of his desire, so this was it. Tonight would be a night that Draco never forgot, and when Harry was finished, they would be done for good, but Draco would know what he was missing, and he would know that it had been his choice that cost him all that Harry could offer.

His expression was carefully schooled in a way that would have done a Slytherin proud, and Harry’s eyes were lazy lidded and smoldering with desire. Draco flicked a glance back to see if Harry was getting on with his undressing, and wound up staring with wry admiration at the creature he’d helped to create.

Harry walked the edge of the bath with the grace of a panther, never letting his eyes off Draco Malfoy, smiling like a starving alley cat and giving a look to Draco that suggested that he was the nearest stunned mouse.

Draco’s glands responded instantly, and even in the steam and hazy light, Harry could see the impact he was having on Draco’s libido. The blonde’s cock was filling out nicely while he watched Harry saunter his way to the steps. Just the sight of Draco’s aroused interest was enough to make Harry’s dangling manhood twitch with immediate interest, and his own anger and resolve fueled him further. He would make this a night that they both remembered.

Harry only took a couple of steps into the water, stopping midway in. His hand slid down his stomach in lazy circles that Draco watched with interest, until it reached the downy fur that surrounded his rapidly rising cock. Harry ran his fingertips down the length of it, pausing at the head, tipping his chin back and smirking wickedly.

“You sound tense tonight. I think I can help you work some of that off. That is, if you’re still in the mood.” Harry’s voice was coy and full of unspoken promises.

Draco looked pleased, enticed by the prospect of a confident Harry, probably because, if Harry admitted it, he had seemed a little lackluster lately. His enthusiasm had waned after Draco had uncaringly hurt him, and seeing that this might well be the last time he ever did this with Draco, he figured he’d better make sure they both enjoyed it thoroughly.

Malfoy ducked his head under the water and kicked off against the wall of the bath, surfacing just a couple of feet from Harry. When he came up out of the water, his smirk was intact, and he stood in front of Harry, blond hair slicked back neatly and water dripping off of his slender, muscular frame. Harry had to admit one thing, Draco was easily the most perfectly put together person he had ever laid eyes on. No wonder he’d fallen for Draco so hard and so fast.

The very image of submission, Harry slid into the water and they circled each other until Draco was seated at the edge and Harry was half in the water, but ideally positioned for what he intended to start with.

Harry unleashed every tiny trick in the arsenal of sexual techniques that Draco had taught him. He’d paid careful attention for months, and he knew every sensitive spot on Draco’s body by heart. The sounds Draco made above him told him all he needed to know, and he let Draco’s reactions guide his every move.

One hand gently pulled Draco off, while Harry labored over the glans of Draco’s straining cock, lapping, offering teasing suction, and carefully swiping his tongue along the slit that only faintly oozed pre-come. Harry’s free hand roamed Draco’s chest, brushing fingertips idly against nipples that had grown hard with excitement.

All the while, Draco flexed his thighs and strained, trying to fight back the urge to promptly come in Harry’s mouth, but when the language of Draco’s body shifted to acceptance and a desire to simply let go and surrender to Harry’s hungry mouth, Harry changed gears and shifted his pace, keeping Draco in limbo, hovering back and forth between the relief of orgasm and almost unbearable pleasure.

Harry switched hands, allowing the one soaked in spit and pre-come to slip behind him discreetly, and rubbed as much into himself as he could, letting his other hand work the shaft of the handsome cock that currently occupied his mouth. There would be no lubricant for this night’s efforts, just as there had been none on the first night. He’d done this before, many times the last few weeks, and there was nothing Draco could do that would surprise him, but there were a few things he could do that would surprise Draco!

Once Draco’s cock was quite literally dripping with Harry’s saliva, Harry waited for the cue, bringing Draco right to the edge again, then stopping suddenly, savoring the groan of frustration that emerged a second later.

“Ahhh…fucksake, Harry! Merlin, that’s fucking good…just finish me off. I want to come in that pretty mouth of yours.”

The words were slurred with lust when Draco uttered them hoarsely, and Harry smiled just before straightening his face to an icy mask. He place a hand in the center of Draco’s chest while he sucked and gently pushed Draco back onto the tile, his pale legs still dangling in the bath.

Draco looked up when Harry’s mouth slid away from him, wondering what was interrupting an otherwise amazing blow job, and realized that Harry was quite suddenly crouched above Draco’s waist, with one hand still holding Draco’s erection steady beneath Harry’s waiting body.

Amazement was in Draco’s eyes while he watched, and felt, Harry lower himself steadily onto the prick beneath him with green eyes blazing all the while. Harry’s face never showed anything but raw hunger, and Draco was keenly aware of the fact that, from this position, he had very little control of anything, but at the moment he truly didn’t give a damn!

Harry was slowly straddling Draco’s not inconsiderable manhood, and sliding down the length of it as calmly and surely as could be. The feeling of being enveloped by slick, tight warmth was making Draco fight to hold onto his self control, and Harry knew that he would have little difficulty making his hasty plan a reality.

Draco’s teeth were gritted, and his eyes were now clenched shut, his mouth a rictus of awe and overwhelming pleasure. When Harry, who had needed all his concentration just to make the passage of Draco’s cock into him a bit smoother, finally relaxed and sat comfortably on Draco’s hips, he smiled wide and looked down at Draco’s handsome face, and made his peace with what he was about to do.

Harry began to grind, flexing muscles he’d only learned he had during the past few weeks, and, kneeling on the tiles, comfortable atop Draco’s hips, he started to add slow rises and sudden drops to his movements. The friction was bracing, given that there had been little in the way of lubricant, but from the look of Draco, the sacrifice was well worth it, and truth be told, excited like this for the first time in over two weeks, Harry finally enjoyed the way Draco felt inside him again.

Draco’s hands moved to Harry’s hips, and reasserting his control, Harry twined his fingers through Draco’s and pinned his hands to the floor. Draco almost thought to struggle, until Harry clenched hard as he slid up Draco’s length, making the blond hiss with pleasure and forget all about conflict for awhile.

Minutes blurred by while Draco writhed underneath Harry, desperate to reach orgasm, but pinned beneath Harry and unable to steer himself to completion. Harry leaned forward and lapped his way along Draco’s chest, sucking hard as he reached the pit of Draco’s throat. Here it was easy to hear the gasps and whine that his trapped partner struggled to hold in, and Harry decided it was time for a change.

It was just a whisper, but Malfoy heard it plainly even through a haze of lust.

“You want to come? You want to be on top?”

“Yesss!” It was more a strangled groan than a coherent word, but Harry heard it clearly and moved his mouth to Draco’s neck, just beneath his left ear.

“I want you to fuck me. I want the best you’ve ever given, nothing less than that. And I want it NOW!” Harry bit down hard as he released Draco’s wrists and rolled in unison with Draco.

The tiles were warm and slick in the hazy heat of the baths, but they were still hard, and in the mad scramble that followed Harry was sure they’d both earned some bruises, but none of that mattered at the moment.

Draco rolled to the top, still rooted in Harry, wild-eyed and panting like a wolf from a long chase. For a moment, he seemed unsure of himself, and Harry raked his fingernails down Draco’s back with a violence that surely left red welts and must have taken away some skin as well. That put Draco back in gear, and he grabbed hold of Harry’s knees, tipping Harry back and sliding his own arms into position, folding Harry nearly in half in the process.

Draco practically growled as he delivered the most punishing, savage, vindictive grudge fuck he’d ever even contemplated giving, and Harry took it with pleasure, rattling Draco’s confidence a bit when he sometimes laughed between cries.

So much pent up emotion, so much anger and grief, all poured into a single act that shattered the silent tension that had hung between their past encounters.

Draco couldn’t hold a pace like that for long, not after the way Harry had teased him to the brink again and again, and it was a thankful thing that he couldn’t, because for all that he was pleased, Harry wasn’t sure how long his body could take this kind of pounding without suffering real damage.

He was almost delirious himself, and couldn’t recall when he’d come, but the milky evidence of it was there, streaming down the sides of his waist, and dripping from the head of his own half erect prick. All Harry knew was that he felt magnificent and alive again, after weeks of feeling like his was a living death, and he knew he’d made the right choice.

Draco pulled Harry up by the knees, holding Harry’s backside off the floor while he slammed into Harry’s arse as hard and fast as he could, and minutes later he keened as he came, grunting and gasping while he tried to keep his pace through the entire orgasm.

When Harry felt himself lowered to the tiles again, he flipped a leg high, over Draco’s head, as he turned himself around, never allowing Draco’s just spent and still throbbing cock out of his body. It took a lot of effort to get the word out coherently, but Draco heard the hoarse and hungry demand from beneath as he looked at Harry’s backside before him.

“More!”

Draco may have been dazed, but he couldn’t help a certain arousal at this changed Harry. In his wilder fantasies, his partners had acted this way, but never in real life had anyone inspired so much from him.

Draco latched hold of Harry’s hips, digging his thumbs in tightly, and started with slow thrusts while his slightly confused erection hovered between the traditional deflation after orgasm, and rising again when called to.

It didn’t take long before Draco’s body responded to the stimuli that reached him: watching Harry’s tanned and smooth arse being penetrated by his own thick cock, the way it felt sliding into a tight warmth only he had ever known, and that he had grown fond of, or the sight of the muscles of Harry’s back flexing just beneath the surface of his soft, tanned skin.

Harry found that, slick inside with Draco’s freshly spent come, it was easier to take Draco’s thrusts than it was before, and his own erection was sluggishly returning, despite the fact that Draco rarely struck his prostate from this position. Harry pushed himself back against Draco’s pounding, matching Draco’s strokes until their bodies slapped together loudly.

Harry had always been comparatively silent during sex, given to soft noises and occasional groans depending on Draco’s choice of activities. This time he let go of all pretense, uttering lusty encouragements that once would have made him feel whorish, but now seemed only appropriate…and they elicited a very real response from Draco.

Draco’s hand cracked hard across Harry’s arse cheek, and Harry tightened reflexively, gasping loudly when the sensations that brought flooded his mind. Harry could feel droplets of sweat landing on his back, and the soft burn where Draco’s hand had struck him was a strange and dark pleasure in itself. He could hear Draco’s breath, which was louder and more bellows-like than ever before, and he could feel a faint trickle of the seed that Draco had emptied into him earlier working its way down his inner thigh.

Once, such things had filled him burning shame, but not anymore. Not now, and not ever again. He savored every second of it, soaking it in, holding these memories as closely to himself as he could, knowing that, if Draco would not bend, then he would have to break this ’thing’ between them off, once and for all.

Draco took a long time to come, but as his pace grew faster and faster, Harry was pushed into the dazed trance state he’d found so much refuge in during their past encounters. His body thrummed and tingled, and starry lights flickered before him even when his eyes were open. Draco shifted, pumping hard at a specific angle and grunting with the effort of it, but Harry felt the difference immediately, and was thankful that he was already on all fours, else he would have collapsed from it.

His body trembled violently, and he knew he was calling Draco’s name, but it was almost as if he was detached from the event itself and wasn’t even in charge of his own utterances. Harry’s semi hard prick pulsed and bounced, spitting droplets of come onto the tile beneath him, while he laughed and cried at the same time, full of joy and relief and wildly glutted lust.

Draco came less than a minute later, pushing Harry completely onto the floor, buried as deeply in Harry’s body as he could be, and only pressing fiercely against Harry’s arse every few seconds as his loins jetted into Harry’s already come-slick, but still hungry, passage.

Seconds later, Draco collapsed onto Harry’s back, still rooted in Harry, panting heavily, and laid his head to rest on Harry’s shoulders, kissing them the way he so often did when sated and happy with their evening’s exploits.

Harry laid comfortably beneath the heat and weight of Draco’s body, resting his feverish brow on the comparatively cool tile of the floor, limp, disheveled, and more thoroughly pleasured than he’d ever imagined. A part of him screamed against what he was about to do, especially in light of how good he knew Draco could make him feel. In the end, he knew he had to follow through, no matter how hard it seemed. His self respect demanded it, and Draco would never change for someone he could manipulate so easily.

Draco caught his breath, and finally spoke softly. “There…there’s no one like you, Harry. No one.”

He’d said things like that before, always afterwards, while he was still willing to embrace Harry and keep him close, and though such things had slipped from his glib tongue many times, Harry thought he could hear something different, and more genuine, in Draco’s voice now.

Harry rolled very gently to the side, and Draco followed his lead, letting Harry remain curled close to him as they shifted. Draco’s softening cock slid wetly out of Harry’s arse, trailing hot come along Harry’s arse cheeks and legs.

Harry was suddenly aware of how empty he felt, almost painfully so, as if his body could have ignored any discomfort as long as Draco was still inside him, and the bright and tingling soreness that was upon him made him regret what he was about to do all the more.

He pulled away from Draco, who was more sluggish and complacent than ever before, and turned to face him. Then he lunged forward and kissed Draco on the mouth with a passion and violence that was unfeigned, and it was necessary to grab Draco’s arms to keep him from pushing Harry away.

Draco’s entire body was tensed, rigid with anger, but he was too tired to fight Harry off, and sullenly met Harry’s kiss with an almost sarcastic air that seemed to say, “Okay, I’ll play for a second, but when this is over, you’ll pay for it.”

Harry made that kiss linger, even though he could feel fresh tears trying to burn tracks down his cheeks, while Draco’s lips worked against his with a resentful ferocity. When he finally pulled away, before Draco could say a word, he whispered huskily, “I’m sorry.”

Draco’s eyes had narrowed and his voice was a furious hiss. “Not yet, you’re not…but you fucking well will be! I told you-”

Harry raised his voice and cut Draco off. “I’m not sorry about the kiss! I’m sorry you’re either too piss ignorant to know when someone loves you, or too fucking inhuman to care! I’m not one fucking bit ashamed of how I feel about you, but I’m done taking your shit about it as of tonight! I deserve better than this and I bloody well know it. That’s the last kiss from me you’ll ever have to stomach. We’re through, Draco.”

Draco was spluttering in confusion, too gob smacked and exhausted to make sense of it all, and Harry rose calmly and began pulling on his clothes. It took almost a minute for Draco to work through a flood of emotions that cracked his usual mask, and settle upon anger as a representative.

“FUCK YOU, POTTER! I SHOULD HAVE KNOWN BETTER! I KNEW YOU COULDN’T HANDLE IT! FUCK OFF! GET OUT OF MY SIGHT AND DON’T LET ME FUCKING SEE YOU IN HERE AGAIN!”

Draco’s normally pale skin was flushed crimson, and he was shaking with anger, while he screamed at Harry. The insults kept coming as Harry gathered his things and moved for the exit.

“YOU FUCKING WHORE! YOU KNOW YOU LOVED IT! ALL OF IT! I MADE YOU MY LITTLE BITCH AND YOU LOVED EVERY MINUTE OF IT! YOU’LL BE BACK! WHO’LL BE LAUGHING WHEN YOU’RE BEGGING FOR IT LIKE THE SLUT YOU ARE!”

Harry turned and smiled, shaking his head as if he were chiding a small child.

“You’re a good fuck, Malfoy, but if you haven’t got anything to offer me but your dick, you’re not the person I thought you were. If you ever figure out what it means to be a real man, come find me.”

Draco stood red and silent, still shaking with rage, and Harry turned coolly and walked away, whisking his cloak over his head and vanishing as he stepped out the door.

It hurt, and he knew he’d hurt Draco every bit as badly as he himself had been hurt, but what price could be put upon self respect? His legs were rubbery, and his knees threatened to quit halfway to the tower, and his aching backside had him limping long before he reached the common room, but he was sustained by a strength he hadn’t known he possessed until that night.

If Draco never made his peace with whatever demons haunted him, they would never be together again, but Harry had made his peace with himself, and he wouldn’t be burned by the same fire again, and pride in that would have to be enough to see him through.

TBC!