Something Beautiful

Title: Something Beautiful
Pairing: Draco/Harry
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: GRAPHIC gay anal sex, sort-of non-con, violence, general fuck-uppedness
Summary: Sometimes, what you really want to do is break something. D/H. Bottom!Harry.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Harry Potter.


I felt like destroying something beautiful.
—Fight Club


Draco pushed him into the wall, and he hit it face-first, his hands slapping at the stone and his nose smashed—maybe even broken.

“Fuck!” said Harry. His nose was bleeding, but he liked it.

“That’s the general idea,” said Draco, undoing Harry’s belt and trousers; leaning over Harry’s shoulder and licking and biting at his smooth, fine jaw.

Harry made a sound startlingly like a whimper as his underthings were yanked down, pooling at his feet. He could feel Draco’s heat like a whisper behind him, and then he leaned forward, and Harry, through two thin layers of clothing, could feel Draco’s cock hard and ready against his backside.

Draco’s hands snaked between them; Harry very distinctly heard the thunk of Draco’s belt hitting the floor; the metallic hiss of his trouser zipper being pulled down; the sly little rustle of pants and trousers sliding down Draco’s legs.

Then Draco’s wand was sinking between the crevice of Harry’s bum, and Harry jerked as his arsehole was suddenly covered in lubricant, slick and cool.

He writhed and cried out as Draco’s finger entered him—long, slippery—working its way further into his body; wiggling.

He made the most delicious noises as Malfoy’s finger moved inside him, and Draco didn’t think he could take anymore waiting, so he removed his finger and replaced it with the head of his cock, grunting as he tried to ease his way ever-so-slowly into the other boy’s hottightsotight body.

“Oh God, oh God, oh God,” said Harry, banging his head against the wall more harshly than he’d intended. “Malfoy, I don’t think I can—” he said.

It was true. Draco was only halfway in, and he’d had to force that much. Harry’s body would not accept any more; he was too tight, too tense.

“You need to relax,” said Draco.

“I can’t,” said Harry.

“You can,” said Draco, biting the back of his neck.

“Fuck you, Malfoy!” said Harry, angry now; he tried to push off the wall and get away, but Draco, being the bigger of the two, easily held him in place.

“Shut your fucking mouth,” said Draco, into his ear. “You’re not going anywhere. Now, hold still and just relax already.”

“Easier said than done!” said Harry, green eyes blazing as he glared over his shoulder at the Slytherin.

“For fuck’s sake, Potter, it’s only a cock. It’s not like I’m trying to shove a broom handle up you!”

“Well it bloody hurts, okay?” said Harry, gasping as Draco chose that moment to nudge his hips further into Harry’s arse.

Harry’s body grudgingly swallowed another painful inch inside of it; Harry’s fists clenched uselessly, his nails biting into the soft fleshiness of his palms.

“Don’t do that to me when I’m not expecting it!” said Harry.

“I’ll do whatever I bloody well want,” said Draco, which was when Harry threw his head back, connecting with the taller boy’s chin. It probably hurt Harry more than it hurt him; it made Harry dizzy. Draco hissed and held Harry’s hips more tightly to his body.

“Not smart, Harry,” he said, and, unexpectedly, he kissed him, and it hurt Harry’s nose, which was starting to swell, but he didn’t want him to stop.

“Get it out,” said Harry, as the other boy pushed further into him. “God, get it out!”

“Not a chance,” said Draco, wiping at the blood from Harry’s nose tenderly. Not that it helped much—what little he managed to remove with the pad of his thumb was quickly replaced. It was trickling down Harry’s mouth and chin; Draco could still taste its coppery boldness on his tongue.

“This is rape,” said Harry. He turned his head away, pressing his forehead to the wall.

“You can’t rape the willing,” said Draco, his hips inching forward.

“Do I look willing to you?” asked Harry.

“You look beautiful,” said Draco.

“It’s not the same.”

“It is.”

“You’re crazy,” said Harry.

“You like it,” said Draco. He was all the way in, now. “Ready?” he said.

“No,” said Harry.

“You’d better adjust quickly, then,” said Draco, and moved out and then in, and Harry sobbed soundlessly into his palm.

“I’ve never been in anyone so tight before,” said Draco. It was even painful for him, having his cock squeezed so tight, but he didn’t mind.

“God, God,” said Harry. “I hate you. I hate you. God.”

“Harry,” said Draco, in his ear; “you’re being blasphemous.”

“Unbelievable,” said Harry, and then convulsed so hard he almost knocked the bigger boy off-balance—Draco had to grip his hips hard to hold him in place.

“What was that?” asked Harry.

“Yeah, you like that, don’t you?” asked Draco smugly, as if he alone were responsible for its existence.

“I didn’t know that could happen,” said Harry. His hands were flat against the wall, but he wasn’t trying to get away, anymore.

“What, you’ve never found it with your fingers?” asked Draco. “No one’s ever touched it with his cock before?”

“Never had anything up there before,” said Harry.

He was consciously trying to relax around Draco’s cock. It would be best to try to enjoy this.

“Fuck,” said Draco, in astonishment. “I never thought I’d be the one to take the Golden Boy’s virginity.”

“Me neither,” said Harry, bitterly.

“I was already in you by the time you said ‘no,’” said Draco. “Technically, your cherry had already been popped.”

“I want you to stop,” said Harry.

“We can’t always get what we want,” said Draco.

Harry struggled again, but Draco held him down.

“All this friction is making me want you more,” said Draco. “By all means, struggle. I like it.”

And Harry obliged him, trying harder than ever to get away, but Draco only grunted and held him close and still closer, squashing him against the wall and fucking him, fucking him brutally with the long, thick length of his cock.

“Please, please,” said Harry, and what he was begging for, he couldn’t say.

Malfoy’s cock was driving into him violently, viciously, and he liked it, he actually liked it; he cried out every time that punishing force drilled into him, pressing against his prostate, and if he’d known how much those little helpless noises were pleasing the other boy, he would have done his best to stop making them.

“It hurts, God, please,” said Harry, and Draco grabbed his chin and kissed and fucked and kissed him, jabbing his tongue into Harry’s mouth and eating those painful gorgeous sounds before they ever made it out.

“Yes, yes, fuck, Potter, you feel so—oh, fuck, fuck, Potter!” said Draco as Harry yanked his face away and struggled under him one last time, and then Draco’s cock brushed him right there, right where he needed it, and he was coming all over his stomach and the wall—his cock hadn’t even been touched, the whore, the fucking whore—and his arsehole was clenching instinctively, and with Harry writhing and tightening around his length like that, Draco lost it, Draco was snapping his hips into the smaller boy and carelessly bruising either side of his waist, and filling him up—filling and filling him up with white heat; his seed, his spunk, his spray of ejaculate all over the insides of Harry’s arse.

Harry was sobbing for real now—God, God, how could he have—and, when Draco released him, sliding out of his body with a slick pop, Harry slid down the wall and covered his face with his hands and sobbed and tried to stop it but he kept sobbing, and the floor underneath him—it must have hurt, to sit so soon after that—was turning pink, from the mingled red and white trickling from Harry’s arsehole.

“So, next week?” said Draco.

“Yes,” said Harry, hiccupping, and Draco zipped up his trousers and left.


It's only after we've lost everything that we're free to do anything.
—Fight Club