Marshmallow Fluff

Author's note--Marshmallow fluffiness...the first thing that popped into my head after reading Lady_Diablo's Stick!Situations Challenge. (Maybe there's a reason God invented editing...)

Anyway, I'm not *exactly* completely happy with it, but here is what you get on short notice. My idea is that Harry and Draco are both living in Grimmauld Place (maybe post-HBP) but they've already had their huge, inevitable fight, and now they are relatively peacefully co-existing, not admitting to themselves or each other that they find the other more and more attractive until...

“Oh my god, Potter, what the HELL are you doing?”

When Draco Malfoy wasn’t brewing potions to earn his keep at Grimmauld Place, his household chore, assigned by Molly Weasley, of course, was to put away the clean laundry after she washed it. She knew better than to allow the teenagers in the house near soap and clothing, but Draco’s task was to separate, fold, and then place in the appropriate rooms the articles of clean clothing Molly washed. Draco was reluctant at first (he adamantly refused that he had a tantrum, but Molly hadn’t raised seven children for nothing), but he quickly saw that he could’ve gotten a worse job, like dusting (Fred’s) or mopping the floors (George’s) or taking out the rubbish (Ron’s). Except for the first horrible time that Molly had mistakenly expected Draco to fold Ginny’s and Hermione’s underthings, but as long as THAT fiasco wasn’t repeated, all was well.

Except that on this particular laundry day, Draco had meant to deposit Harry’s clean sheets in his room and be on his way, but he was so shocked by what he found when he opened the door to Harry’s room that every intention of leaving flew right out of his pale blonde head.

Harry ‘the Chosen One’ Potter was reclining on his bed, propped up by pillows, naked, and thrusting into a jar of…something! Draco did a double take and then would’ve thought he was the victim of an eyesight hex, except that Harry jumped a mile and flushed crimson at being caught. He had enough sense not to remove the jar and expose himself to Malfoy, but he did hiss for Draco to come in and shut the door.

“Potter, what in Merlin’s name…” Draco was at a loss for words. “What the fuck is that stuff?”

“Marshmallow fluff,” Harry replied as if this were a reasonable conversation. He shrugged. “Hermione told us about it one time, and then Fred and George said it felt like…never mind.” Draco’s clean laundry fell out of his hands, and he stepped forward, more out of sheer curiosity than arousal or interest, mind you.

“But what IS it?” Being the pureblood, Draco wasn’t acquainted with the intricacies of Muggles and their sugar delicacies.

“It’s…I don’t know…marshmallow fluff,” Harry gestured helplessly, resigning himself to the fact that he’d have to show Draco the jar. He began to pull, grimacing as it stuck to his hardened prick, liberally coating it with white stickiness, and once he had freed the jar, he turned it right-side up and offered it to Draco, who looked horrified that he would even THINK of such a thing. Harry pinched a bit of it in between his fingers (from the jar, of course) and popped it into his mouth as Draco squeaked in shock.

“Oh, be quiet,” Harry said. “It doesn’t taste bad. Sweet. Artificial, but sweet. Apparently the Muggles love this stuff.” Draco raised an eyebrow, trying to maintain an unaffected air despite the fact that Harry Potter was sitting on now-ruined sheets with a sticky cock. A very handsome and appealing sticky cock, at that…

“And Fred and George said it felt like…what?” Draco’s eyes kept straying to Harry’s nether regions and idly noted the absence of hair there, which was a good thing, considering what he was doing. Draco shuddered to think of the fluff-stuff being stuck in hair…

“Um…” Harry looked embarrassed, his cheeks flaming red again.

“Spit it out, Golden Boy!” Draco exclaimed, sitting cautiously on the edge of the bed. Harry eyed him nervously, trying to ignore the fact that the Slytherin was bloody gorgeous and just oozed sexiness…even though he was probably going to make Harry’s life miserable about this little ‘incident’ now.

“They said it felt like a vagina,” he mumbled, and it was Draco’s turn to blush.

“Well, did it?”

“WHAT?”

“You heard me,” Draco shrugged, trying to sound matter-of-fact. “Did it?”

“How the hell should I know? I’m a virgin!” Harry cried, and then bit his lip for admitting that. “But if that’s what a vagina feels like…” Harry trailed off again, and Draco looked at him sharply, ready to hex him for doing that.

“WHAT, damn you? Good? Bad?”

“Why are you so curious to know?” Harry looked at Draco as if seeing him for the first time. The Slytherin narrowed his eyes.

“You first, Potter,” Draco said coldly, trying to prepare himself to hear all about how wonderful a marshmallow fluff vagina felt.

“Okay, Malfoy, it was alright. Nothing to write home about. Hell, thinking about YOU does more for me than this stuff does.” As soon as the words were out, Harry wished he could take them back. Draco, on the other hand, perked up and looked as if he couldn’t quite believe that Harry had admitted that. But Draco wanted to believe it, oh so badly. His cock twitched in his pants as if agreeing.

“Well, that’s good to know, Potter,” Draco purred, standing and beginning to unbutton his shirt. Harry’s mouth dropped open. The jar of marshmallow fluff fell out of his hand and onto the bed. He watched with open admiration as Draco undressed himself and sat at the edge of the bed again. “Guess I should see for myself how it tastes.”

Harry’s eyes rolled back in his head as Draco’s face disappeared into his lap, and he felt the stickiness being thoroughly sucked, licked, and otherwise cleaned off of his erection. He gasped and shuddered as Draco’s mouth closed over the head of his swollen cock and raised a hand to Draco’s hair, which the blonde immediately parried, horrified that the gooey white stuff might end up in his perfect tresses. Harry groaned, pulling Draco back down to his cock, and Draco went back to giving Harry a spectacular blow job. The Gryffindor groaned deep in his throat, his hips making involuntary thrusts, but instead of coming in Draco’s hot mouth, Harry had just enough coherence to pull Draco’s head back and angle it so that the strings of cum landed in Draco’s hair, matching the bits of marshmallow fluff that were transferred from Harry’s fingers.

Harry relaxed against the headboard, spent, while Draco, overcome with absolute shock, was nearly apoplectic with disbelief that Harry bloody fucking Potter really had just come in his hair AND gotten marshmallow in it! Right then and there, Draco decided that Voldemort wouldn’t get a crack at Harry because Draco was ready to kill him himself! However, his own aching cock reminded him that there were more important matters to attend to than his hair at this precise moment.

Draco knelt in between Harry’s knees, pulling the Gryffindor down from his reclining position to lay on the bed. Harry was utterly pliant and cooperative, and Draco spread the tanned legs and pushed them towards Harry’s chest, exposing him more fully. He looked around ruefully, and then down at the slightly cold glass jar of marshmallow fluff that was beside his knee. Draco scooped some of it out onto his hand and concentrating on Transfiguring it into a slightly slimier substance: marshmallow lubricant. He pushed one coated finger into Harry’s arse, smiling as the green eyes popped open for an instant and then glazed over in pleasure again. Draco wiggled his finger, trying to spread the lube around, and then added a second one, stretching Harry’s virginal passage. Draco palmed some more Transfigured fluff and slicked his own cock, poising the head at Harry’s entrance and then pushing gently.

Harry’s head flopped from side to side, and he moaned in ecstasy as Draco entered him. It only hurt a little bit, but there was something that helped to ease the friction. Draco leaned forward, kissing Harry on the forehead and bracing himself. Harry’s hands clutched Draco’s shoulders feverishly as he begged to be fucked.

“Please, Draco? Please? Now! Fuck me! Hard! I need you so badly; now fuck me!”

Draco grunted and began moving in and out of Harry. The bed began to shake as he picked up speed, and neither of them noticed as Draco’s mid-fuck repositioning of his own knees knocked the glass jar of fluff off the bed onto the stone floor, where it shattered. He took up pounding Harry through the mattress again, striking his sweet spot over and over, and Harry’s muscles clenched as he exploded onto himself in his second orgasm. Draco wasn’t far behind him, giving several final thrusts as he moaned Harry’s name, coming deep inside his arse.

Exhausted and trembling, Draco couldn’t move for a few moments after they finished. The muscles in his arms quivered, and he finally mustered enough strength to gently ease out of Harry and flop onto the bed beside the panting Gryffindor. His grey eyes slid out of focus, but his body responded as Harry rolled over and laid his head on Draco’s chest. Draco put his arms around the black-haired boy and softly kissed the top of his head. Harry peeked over Draco’s other side, off the bed, and snorted.

“What?” Draco asked sleepily.

“The marshmallow fluff broke,” Harry replied with an amused smile. “We fucked it off the bed.”

“Damn good fuck it was, too, for feeling like a vagina,” Draco smirked, and Harry nodded his agreement. “I don’t think the Weasel clones have a clue…”

“It made a mess on the floor,” Harry stated.

“You made a mess in my hair,” Draco countered, ignoring the fact that his comeback made no sense.

“True,” Harry acquiesced, pulling out of Draco’s arms for a second to fetch the clean sheets from the heap they fell in. He laid back down with the pale boy, haphazardly tossing one sheet onto the floor, covering the sticky mess up, while he used the other one to wipe Draco’s hair gently, wincing when the sheet stuck to Draco’s head rather than removed the fluff and cum from the strands of hair. Draco’s face was turning into a thundercloud, so Harry quickly balled the sheet up and left it above Draco’s head, kissing his pouting Slytherin.

“I hate you,” Draco huffed in between kisses.

“I know you do, lover,” Harry replied. “It’ll wash out.”

“It better, Potter, or you will drown in marshmallow fluff until you die,” Draco threatened, only half-kidding. Harry was starting to fall asleep, and Draco was not far after.

Author's note--I also wanted to throw something in about s'mores, but maybe that'll have to be in a second chapter or different fic...since this particular challenge called for marshmallow fluff.

I have no idea if it really feels like a vagina, btw...don't think I WANT to know! But I did get a kick out of Draco using the marshmallow fluff for lubricant...hope you did too!