Revenge is a Dish Best Served… Yellow

Word count: 2800
Beta: Vaughn
Warning: SQUICK bordering bestiality
Disclaimer: Harry Potter and his accessories belong to JK Rowling and other people who financially benefit from her literature. I am not one of them.

A/N: Written for the Zoophilia Challenge of hp_squick.

Draco was angry at Potter. That in itself wasn’t an uncommon occurrence. It wasn’t that uncommon to see him with a vindictive glare and a smirk bordering on evil on his face either. The only unusual thing on him had been the parcel with the Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes logo emblazoned on it, which he had received a few hours earlier. Unfortunately for Harry, he hadn’t seen Draco at the time, because if he had, he would have been more cautious later that night in the Astronomy Tower, where he was to meet his lover.

It seemed that Draco had already calmed down, which in itself should have been suspicious. Though Harry couldn’t have known that, since the horrible git hadn’t even noticed that Draco had been angry with him over… something the Slytherin wasn’t ready to admit to anyone, much less to Harry, the cause of it all. How dare the obnoxious Gryffindor accuse him of liking to be on the receiving part of sex more than topping! He was no bloody girl, and Potter had better mark that.

Draco gave his unsuspecting lover a sugary smile when Harry opened the heavy wooden door to the room. Harry's facial muscles mirrored it automatically, except that, on Harry, it looked natural - so much so that the sweetness of it almost made Draco change his mind. No. He had to be strong. He had to teach Potter a lesson he would never forget.

Draco waited only until he heard the sound of the door being shut and then promptly dropped his robes, under which he wore very little. Actually, that would be more like 'nothing'. These kinds of displays always worked: rendering Harry speechless and madly aroused. It wasn’t any different now.

Draco felt the confident arms of his Gryffindor close around his body from behind, slightly sweaty palms sliding down the length of his flanks and calloused fingers caressing the bared skin of his stomach. Draco gave an involuntary shiver. But those fingers didn’t stop there. They sneaked lower, plunging into the dirty-blond curls of his pubes without any preamble. They tugged gently on the coarse hair, which awakened the hidden desires in Draco's body, causing his cock to be filled with blood. Harry's fingers wrapped around the engorged shaft and began a slow motion along the length, stroking and twisting, smearing the sensitive skin with Draco's own pre-come. Draco purred and let his suddenly too heavy head fall backwards to rest on Harry's shoulder while he enjoyed the slick sensation coursing through every nerve ending in his body.

"I want you," Harry hissed into his ear, and Draco felt his other hand pushing between their bodies to hastily undo his belt. Even though his lover's movements were jerky, he managed to do it without any interruption of what his other hand was occupied with. When the buckle finally came loose, the oversized trousers fell down to his ankles on their own accord, and from the feeling of warm skin against his posterior, Draco discovered that Harry hadn’t bothered with any underwear when he had got dressed.

For a second, the moist tip of his lover's prick was pressing into the small of Draco's back. But then Harry grabbed a hold of himself and directed his hardened and ready cock in between Draco's arse cheeks, mingling his own fluids with the sweat gathered in Draco's crack and spreading it evenly, as he dragged the head of his prick impatiently up and down – up and down –only skimming the sensitive skin around Draco's hole each time. Draco wanted more. And he was frustrated! Why did it have to feel this good? It shouldn’t have, but it did and it still wasn’t enough.

This was the point where Draco usually offered a few token protests as to why it was always him who got fucked and not Harry, but both of them already knew what that was about, and it didn’t deter their attention from what they were doing. Now, Draco didn’t dare say anything – just let Harry think that he had finally 'stopped being in denial', as Potter had put it earlier the day. For one, his plan required Harry to fuck him, and it wouldn’t have done any good if Harry had chosen this specific occasion to go along with Draco's bitching. For two… well, Harry had been kind of right when he had made that particular observation about Draco's likes and dislikes, it was more the way it was presented that had been inexcusable in Draco's book – even though, right at that moment, he had difficulties remembering why he would even insist on arguing. Most likely, it was because Harry being all emotional and riled up was Draco's idea of the foundation of a brilliant shag.

"Lube!" Draco managed to growl an order between two gasps while his lover was wanking him with one hand and rubbing his cock against Draco's arse with his other, slowly but steadily building up the anticipation for what was about to come. Molten desire swirled inside Draco's belly, spreading out towards his limbs, making his muscles tremble with need and his body coated with glossy sweat.

Harry hurried to obey. Merlin knew where he had pulled out the vial of lube from, Draco only knew that one second he was enjoying the feeling of Harry's sticky cock head teasing his entrance, and in the next, it was gone, replaced by two slick fingers applying gentle pressure on his sphincter, until it gave way and the digits slipped smoothly inside Draco's body.

Draco felt his knees go weak and he stumbled, but Harry managed to quickly catch him around the middle, abandoning Draco's cock in the process. Draco barely noticed the loss. He pressed his clammy forehead against the cold wall and concentrated on breathing, letting his lover work him loose with carefully measured movements. The feeling alone of being filled and worked unrelentingly - even if those fingers felt woefully inadequate in comparison to Harry's gorgeous cock - was almost enough for him to reach his orgasm.

"I'm… I'm ready," Draco pressed through his teeth, a powerful shudder passing along his whole body, when the tips of Harry's fingers accidentally grazed his prostate, almost pushing him over the edge.

"Are you sure?" Harry asked. Draco hated how unaffected he managed to sound even now, when Draco was already on the edge of his endurance. No, that wasn’t exactly true. He hated it and loved it at once. Only Harry fucking Potter was able to reduce Draco Malfoy into a whimpering mass of raw nerves and body fluids. He had to love him for that, didn’t he? And just as well; right now, he loved Harry fucking Potter with every fibre of his being. Well, perhaps there existed one lone fibre that didn’t forget the small custard filled pastry he had been squashing in his palm the whole time…

"Yes, I am sure!" Draco's voice broke, and then he sobbed with relief when he felt the blunt tip of something far larger than fingers press against his thoroughly prepared, over-sensitised opening and then slip through the first barrier with barely any resistance.

"More!" Draco ordered, and then, too impatient to wait for his lover to make the move, pushed backwards, impaling himself onto the delicious length of what must have been the most glorious piece of hardened flesh in the entire universe right at that moment.

"Yes!" Harry hissed, his harsh breath tickling the small, sweat-soaked curls on Draco's nape, and then thrust forward until his cock was buried in Draco's arse to his pubes. Draco noticed that he didn’t sound so unaffected anymore. There was only one thing he loved more than the effect Harry had on him, and that was the effect he had on Harry – even though most of the time he didn’t do anything other than simply offering his body for Harry to do as he pleased with. The result had always been most satisfying to both parties.

Draco decided to – literally - milk every moment of his triumph out of his lover by rhythmically clenching and unclenching his inner muscles. He simply loved to make Harry moan and groan into his shoulder, while trying to refrain from moving, so both of them could have time to get accustomed to the intimacy and not come right away. But right now, Draco wasn’t having any of it.

"Draco, stop it!" Harry gasped into the crook of Draco's throat, referring to the tight grip he had on his cock. "I'm going to come if you don't stop now!" He sounded strained - just where Draco wanted him.

"I don't care," he answered breathily, "…gonna come too!"

That was all it took to make Harry's control crumble and then diminish entirely. His teeth closed around the flesh of Draco's shoulder. He enveloped the blond in a vice-like grip, the hold of his arms tightening on his torso and waist respectively, and then he began thrusting in and out with abandon. There was nothing soft or careful about their coupling. Harry's pounding into Draco's willing flesh made the beating that the Whomping Willow had once dished out to the trunk of one very unlucky Ford Anglia seem like gentle caressing. Then Harry's cock shifted angles and the next thrust rammed straight against Draco's prostate, which was all he had needed. He howled from the sheer power of his orgasm and his come splattered onto the wall of the Astronomy Tower.

He might have blacked out for a second there, but when he came to, Harry was still in the process of scraping Draco's insides raw with his cock. He wasn’t far behind. His harsh breathing indicated that he would last long either, and Draco decided that the time for his revenge had come.

He quickly stuffed the instrument of his retribution into his open mouth, skimming over chewing and swallowing hastily. Harry hadn’t noticed anything of the short interlude. Now the only thing Draco had to do was to hold onto Harry's arms around him and submit to his lover. It would now only take one or two seconds before it began to work…

Draco scrunched together his eyes and dedicated all of his other senses to Harry. He didn’t intend to watch how his revenge was carried out – and with the shagging he was receiving, it would have been hard to concentrate, anyhow – he only wanted to gloat about the end result, when everything was over. He felt the building pressure in his body – from both ends, so to speak. Actually, the one that didn’t have anything to do with Harry, and everything with the small magical object he had just ingested, came from the direction of his stomach. Both of them grew, until Draco's body couldn’t take any more pleasure and he came again, weakly – while the magic flared in the exact same moment.

He felt his channel constrict around his lover's cock while his body was going through a fast-paced magical change. There was a sudden increase of wetness inside his body, which indicated that Harry was coming, too, while the grip of his arms suddenly tightened around his torso, but Draco wasn’t sure whether that had been the result of Harry's orgasm or the widening of his own girth as the proportions of his body shifted. He didn’t even want to know, to be honest.

"Draco? What…" Harry began, most likely when he had been alerted by the change of the texture of Draco's skin under his palms, but then he broke off and jumped away from Draco with a piercing shriek. His cock left Draco's hole with an audible wet 'pop', and then Draco heard the unmistakeable smacking sound of someone landing on their naked arse.

The shrieking continued for several seconds, only interrupted by small pauses to allow Harry to take another deep breath, which empowered his next scream. By the time it stopped, Draco felt his body returning into its original shape and he risked opening his eyes. He didn’t regret it.

The half-panicked, half-shocked look on Harry's face was priceless and more than adequate compensation for the offence of his uncouth lover's inconsiderate comment.

"What the fuck! Draco? Fuck!" Harry was apparently still out of his wits, if the following shattered muttering was any indication, because Draco had only understood the words 'mute ant' and 'Veela' from it, and quite frankly, to him, that didn't make any sense. Draco grinned, surrounded by discarded yellow feathers, enjoying his triumph.

"Now who is a pervert, Potter?" Draco sneered at his dumbstruck lover.

"DRACO! YOU…! I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU! YOU JUST MADE ME FUCK A… A CANARY?"

"And you enjoyed it." Draco nodded and gestured towards the discarded Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes parcel half hidden in a corner.

"What? You're sick!" Draco heard the distinct trembling in Harry's voice, as if he was trying hard to stifle a wave of nausea that was coming up. Had he gone too far?

"No, I'm not." He scowled at the shell-shocked boy who was still sitting frozen to the spot.

"But why would you do something like this?"

"Isn’t it obvious? It was revenge, Potter."

"Revenge?" Potter looked now outright bewildered and altogether too pale. "What for?"

"Oh, for!" Draco rolled his eyes. Did he have to spell it out for Potter? It wasn’t worth the trouble. And, to be honest, he was beginning to feel the first twinges of guilt. Harry wasn’t supposed to be affected this deeply. Draco had thought it would be an appropriate revenge, and then they would laugh about it, and Potter would promise that he would never degrade Draco the way he had, and then they would forget about it until, on a night out, drinking with their friends, one of them got drunk enough to relate the story as a funny little anecdote…

But apparently, his shot had gone far above the line. Actually, now that Draco thought about it some more, it was fairly disgusting. As if agreeing with his assertion, Harry was now starting to turn an unhealthy shade of green. Draco gulped. The sight made bile rise up in his throat, too, and he started to also become light-headed.

But Harry looked worse. Now Draco was seriously afraid that he would be angry with him for a long time. In fact, he even might to want to break up with him! Some serious damage control was in order!

"Harry… it was only a joke," he began in a soft, suave, persuasive tone and pretended that his voice wasn’t trembling. "It was still I, Draco, who you were fu… having sex with, and not… some human-sized bird…"

But Harry didn’t react, except for looking at his face, wincing, and then turning away. Draco started panicking.

"Look here!" he said, making a half turn and confronting Harry with his well used bottom while prying apart his cheeks to show off his entrance, through which Harry's come was slowly leaking out of and dripping onto the tiled floor.

Harry's glance flickered from the presented proof to Draco's face and back several times, until it stopped on the latter.

"Uh… all right," he said. Draco let out the breath he had been holding and praised his luck that his boyfriend was a Gryffindor. Harry extended a hand towards Draco for him to help him up. Draco pulled him off of the cold floor and enveloped him in an embrace much needed by both of them – Draco had had quite a fright there, that Harry would take this little prank the wrong way and flee, never looking back. But it was all right. Right now, everything seemed all right.

It was amazing, actually: the need for reassurance and gentleness that Harry devoted to the rest of the night, touching Draco in almost every imaginable place, tracing his features with his eyes, fingertips and lips, as if he wanted to carve them into his memory – or more likely, Draco thought with guilt unexplainable to his inner Slytherin, replace some bad impressions by memorising them again and again.

What they had was not something Draco would have normally described as sex. Sex felt a word too inadequate to use for the most amazing lovemaking that had ever occurred in his life, even though the only thing they did was touch and kiss: no penetration or crude blow-jobs. But Draco had never before felt such a deep emotional connection with his lover— no, his love— his Harry – and if that wasn’t utterly sappy and un-Malfoy-ish, he didn’t know what was, but that notion was too insignificant compared to the overwhelming sense of unity he shared with Harry that night. He thought that after such an intimate experience, there could be nothing wrong remaining between them – not even a morsel of leftover hostility from their time as 'arch-enemies'…

That night was the end of what had been and the beginning of something new.

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And thus began the most frustrating time of Draco's young life: his five miserable months as an exclusive top.

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The End