How Draco Malfoy Lost His Straight

Draco entered the loud club and surveyed the crowd that had gathered there this

evening. Carefully smoothing inexistent wrinkles on his impeccably ironed shirt, he

un-tucked a stray lock of hair from behind his ear, making it fall into his eyes, in a

way he knew made him look irresistible. He planned to relax for the next few hours,

then possibly pick up a witch or two. Or three. And then he would proceed to not

relax with them at his flat.

Possible candidates were already eyeing him as he moved towards his usual and

naturally, reserved spot in the corner of the room. Only after he had sat down on the

comfortable sofa and ordered his drink, did he glance at the two lovely looking

witches and gave them his charming smile number three. It was much too soon for

charming smile number one; Draco hadn't made his choice yet. Besides, they

swooned anyway.

Pleased, Draco settled with a glass of white wine that had arrived immediately after

he had ordered it, and he looked over at the crowd swaying on the dance floor. Not

seeing anyone interesting there, he glanced towards the bar, sweeping his gaze over

an elderly, lonely looking man, a frightfully endowed woman, and a distastefully

dressed man. The latter was wearing leather trousers and a tight red shirt. Worse

even, as he leaned forward to talk to the bartender, his shirt rode up to reveal that

his trousers were extremely low cut.

Draco shook his head disdainfully. Really, such tight, revealing clothes; why did the

man even bothered with them? Some pompous arse no doubt. If he wished to show

off his muscles and tan he might have as well come naked. Why, if he bent just a

little more, his arse would bloody fall out of his trousers.

Yes, yes, just a little more ...

Draco glared as his vision was suddenly cut off by a body standing right in front of

him.

"Hi there!" a male voice said too loudly, and Draco gritted his teeth in annoyance.

Here we go again, he thought irritably. Why did this always happen to him?

Draco looked up at the sandy-haired, sickly looking man, who was smiling widely,

his gaze raking over Draco in obvious interest.

"I ... er ... I keep seeing you around," the man said, somewhat shyly.

"Have you tried not looking? It might help."

The man laughed as though Draco had told him a joke. Unperturbed, he continued,

"I thought I could ... maybe introduce myself." He fiddled with the hem of his shirt.

"I'm Rick."

"And you have succeeded," Draco praised, giving the man an icy smile. "Now that

you have enriched my evening with your introduction, perhaps you should practice

some more. On someone else."

The man blushed and mumbled, "I'm sorry. I just thought ... Like I said, I've been

seeing you around, and I thought you're looking for company. You seemed lonely."

Draco sighed; better to nip this in the bud. "Look, Dick —"

"Rick."

"— I am looking for company, but I'm not interested in men."

The man's eyebrows shot up and he looked truly shocked. "Really? You're straight?"

His gaze swept over Draco again, and he frowned as though there was a card

attached to Draco's body that proclaimed he was gay and believing the contrary was

not an option.

"Quite."

"Oh. I'm ... Oh." Rick looked terribly confused. "I'm sorry. I'll ... go then. Sorry."

Feeling just a little remorseful for being so unkind, Draco waved his hand towards

the bar. "Try your luck with the half-naked man over there."

The half-naked man in question had stopped leaning forward, and his shirt was no

longer revealing tanned skin. Whether the trousers held on or fell low enough to

show some arse was something Draco would never know.

Rick looked at Draco with wide eyes and shook his head disbelievingly. "Right," he

said, as though he thought Draco was being sarcastic.

As Rick moved onwards, Draco blew out an agitated breath. He was just trying to

help! If he was gay, he would go after the man in the leather trousers. Why Rick

believed that wouldn't be a good idea was beyond Draco's ... Oh.

Oh Merlin.

The man at the bar had stood up and turned around, revealing that apart from being

the man in the leather trousers, he was also the man with glasses and messy hair, as

well as the owner of a pair of bright green eyes and a saucy smile. It wasn't hard to

identify him now, considering he possessed all the attributes owned by one Harry

Potter. Except the saucy smile, which was clearly stolen from someone else — Draco

couldn't remember Potter ever smiling like that.

Potter cocked his head and smiled even wider, his gaze fixed on — Draco looked

behind himself and saw nothing but the wall. Yes, Potter was definitely looking at

him. Moreover, he was moving towards Draco with a confident stride and a

determined sort of look that almost made Draco reach for his wand.

Potter paused right in front of him, and Draco had to struggle to look up at Potter's

face and stop looking at Potter's crotch that was right there, in all its tight,

leathered glory.

Grinning widely at Draco, Potter stepped aside and sat next to him on the sofa, his

leather-clad thigh touching Draco's, feeling impossibly warm against Draco's leg.

"Hi. Fancy meeting you here," Potter said brightly, making Draco wonder whether

Potter mistook him for someone else.

Draco managed to blink once in greeting.

"I didn't know you were gay," Potter continued, apparently unaware that his

statement was a complete non sequitur.

Perplexed, Draco stared at Potter, trying to figure out whether this was someone

else, Polyjuiced into Harry Potter. Judging by the way Draco's stomach clenched in

irritation, this had to be the real thing, though one could never know. But first things

first. "I'm not gay," Draco said determinedly.

"Then why are you in a gay club?"

Draco frowned, feeling confused for just a moment. "This isn't a gay club, Potter."

Raising his eyebrows in surprise, Potter looked around at the various mixed couples.

"Oh," he said finally, shrugging apologetically. "Well, everyone around me is always

gay."

Ignoring the ridiculousness of that statement, Draco all but growled, "Present

company excluded."

Potter narrowed his eyes and looked at Draco speculatively. "Hmm. You know, I only

came to sit here, because I thought you were checking me out."

"You thought wrong!" Draco spluttered indignantly. "But thank you for telling me

how easy you are."

Potter's eyebrows shot up. "Why would you care whether I'm easy or not?"

"Because," Draco growled, thinking hard, and then continuing in triumph. "I can now

tell the Prophet all about it. I'm sure everyone will have a good laugh."

Potter didn't even try to look concerned, instead, he seemed pensive. "Well, if you

plan to describe my sexual life to the Prophet, you should gather more information."

Potter leaned in conspiratorially, and added, "I'm willing to help you out."

Draco was starting to feel dizzy. This was insane. Completely surreal. This was

Potter. The man who always hated him. But there he was, smiling at him and ... Was

he ...? Could he ...?

"Are you flirting with me?" Draco blurted, completely amazed with this

notion.

Potter's eyes went impossibly round and his mouth rounded. "Me? No."

Potter looked at him through his lashes, eyes twinkling.

Draco took a deep breath and tried to rationalize the situation. Potter clearly had

some agenda. Maybe he was on a secret mission and was in fact investigating Draco.

That was probably it, Draco thought, suddenly quite angry.

"Play your little games with someone else, Potter. I don't know what you think I'm

involved in, but I assure you I have no intention of delving into the Dark Arts ever

again. So whatever it is you think I have done you have the wrong man. I'm well

aware of how our world works these days and I strive to be accepted and esteemed."

"I know," Potter said gently. "That's part of the reason why I'm ...

interested. I have been for a while," Potter declared, looking almost

nervous.

Oh. Draco swallowed thickly. Potter was interested in him and he seemed so

honest about it. But that thought was too strange to contemplate. Not that Potter

hadn't always been interested in Draco, but he used to have different motivation.

"You hate me," Draco reminded him. "You always hated me."

Potter scrunched up his nose, looking thoughtful. And somewhat cute if you were

into that sort of thing. "I wouldn't say I hated you. Mostly I wanted to throw you on

the ground and beat you silly. Now just replace beat with shag and

you'll notice not much has changed."

Draco's throat went dry because his mind had actually done as Potter told him,

replacing beat with shag and replaying the sentence for him. He

shuddered. Unpleasantly. This was surely a shudder of disgust. "Well, I'm not

interested. I'm interested in witches," Draco said, his voice firm. As firm as Potter's

thigh pressed against his.

Perhaps not quite that firm.

"Hmm," Potter commented.

"What?"

"Oh nothing." Potter scratched his head, as though he was trying to remember

something.

"What?" Draco snapped. Why was everyone always questioning his sexual

orientation?

"It's just ... I was talking to the bartender and he told me you always come here

alone and you always leave here alone. So where are these witches that interest

you?" Potter looked politely inquisitive.

Draco glared. There were witches. Just not lately. But Draco had taken a

witch home just last ... week. Month. Hmm. Year.

Though he hadn't slept with her for she was an elderly witch who cleaned his flat.

"I'm merely ... particular," Draco argued.

Potter stared at him for a long moment and then nodded acceptingly, not really

hiding his disappointment.

Something unpleasant twisted Draco's insides.

"If you say so." Potter's voice was scratchy. "That's a definite no then?" he asked

with finality, no longer smiling and looking ready to leave.

So that was it. If Draco said no, Potter would leave. And he would never bother

Draco again. Potter had offered and Draco had refused. It was all very simple. Sort

of uplifting, really. Not many could brag that they had rejected Harry Potter. Potter

actually looked crestfallen. This was something Draco had always wanted and he'd

be filled with the glorious feeling of victory any moment now.

Potter was frowning at him. "Draco?"

A shiver passed through Draco's spine. That wasn't fair. Potter had never called him

Draco before. There was something powerfully alluring in that. Unbidden, Draco's

mind conjured an image of Harry Potter pressed against Draco's sheets, dark hair

splayed over Draco's pillow, Potter's lips parting to say his name. That was a ...

curious image.

"Do you want me to leave?" Potter asked, a tinge of hope returning to his voice.

"Because I'll leave, if you want that."

Draco panicked suddenly. This wasn't an everyday occurrence. Harry Potter didn't

usually show up here, flirting and smiling and saying he would like to shag Draco

silly. Even though Draco had heard rumours that Potter was gay and he had heard

that Potter frequented this place, Draco had never seen him here before. He hadn't

really expected to see him. He definitely hadn't expected that Potter would be

interested in Draco. That thought had never occurred to him.

Sometimes Draco wondered whether he could run into Potter and make him

be interested. Seduce him just out of spite, so then Draco could say, "Actually, I

don't want you, Potter. I'm not even gay. You're just delusional. Ha."

Because that would be funny. Potter would look ... Well, just like this.

But usually, in those purely evil and not at all sexy fantasies, Potter was a lot less

kissable.

Traitorously, Draco's gaze fell on Potter's lips. That was a nice pair of lips.

But Draco wasn't gay, and he didn't want Potter. Rejecting Potter was his dream

come true, so Draco was the victor here, and therefore it didn't matter Potter had

nice lips. So Draco would assure Potter he wasn't interested. He would open his

mouth and say, 'Leave me alone!'

"I'm pretty sure I'm not gay."

Draco clenched his hands into fists. Well, that 'Leave me alone!' sounded

like a completely different sentence when Draco said it out loud.

Potter's lips parted and his tongue peeked out, wetting them somewhat nervously.

His lips looked even fuller now, and Draco could not stop staring at them as Potter

spoke, "Then maybe you should try it? Experimentally."

"Try?" Draco breathed after a moment. It was hard to concentrate on other things

right now. Potter's lips were distracting. And nicely shaped. Shaped for kissing.

"I could kiss you."

Draco blinked.

"And then you could tell me you don't like it. And then I could leave. Or I could

leave now. It's up to you. I don’t want to ... if you don't want to. I mean, I just

thought you wanted, but you don't. Or you do?"

Potter talked a lot, and Draco missed most of what he said, his mind was stuck on

Potter's previous statement. At least he thought that Potter had said that. "Kiss?"

Draco asked, verifying.

"I remember you being a lot more eloquent."

That sounded interesting. Kissing Potter.

"Do you plan on talking anytime soon?" Potter was biting his lip now. "I need

feedback here."

That wasn't the same as kissing a man. This was Potter-kissing. It was totally

different. Straight men could do that too.

"Are you listening to me? Are you okay?"

Draco tore his gaze from Potter's lips and looked at confused green eyes. "We could

kiss," Draco asserted. "Once. Experimentally."

Potter smiled blindingly, showing perfect white teeth. His cheeks were flushed and

he looked ... abashed, which was odd and endearing, but Draco's mind was too

preoccupied to focus on anything else except impending Potterkissage.

"One kiss then," Potter agreed.

Draco tried to calm his inexplicably shallow breathing, and shake off the sudden

dizziness, but then a shocking thing happened. In one fluid move, Potter straddled

Draco's thighs, pressing Draco's shoulders to the back of the sofa. That snapped

Draco out of his daze. And threw him in a completely different daze. They were in a

public place, filled with people who should have thought that Draco was straight, but

there he was with his lap full of Harry Potter.

"What are you doing?" Draco looked up at Potter's face, feeling half-horrified and

half ... No, just horrified.

Potter bit his lip, that saucy smile from before replacing the previous bout of

nervousness.

"Apparently, I only have one chance to do this. I have to make sure the angle is

right. So I could kiss you properly."

Really, that was a shoddy explanation, Draco thought, but then gasped when Potter

grabbed Draco's hands and pressed them on the small of his own back. He slowly

manoeuvred them under his shirt, where Draco's hands felt silkiness and warmth.

Potter's skin. "Is this what you were looking at?" Potter's voice was low and his eyes

were dark, a smile playing around his lips. "Or this?" Potter lowered Draco's hands,

and made them touch tightly stretched leather and two firm globes that felt perfect

in Draco's hands.

"This isn't kissing," Draco pointed out weakly.

"We'll get there. You could move your hands away."

"I could," Draco agreed, keeping his hands where they were, squeezing harshly,

completely fascinated when Potter gasped and rolled his hips. The sudden rush of

blood into his cock forced Draco to re-evaluate his straightness. But he'd deal with

that more thoroughly later, now there was kissing to be had. "You could kiss me

already."

"I will," Potter promised. He placed one hand against Draco's cheek, his thumb

tracing Draco's lips, and with the other hand he pushed Draco's hair out of his face,

titling Draco's head in the process.

And then Potter kissed him. He pressed his lips to Draco's, moving them slowly as

though testing their shape, and then gently sucked Draco's bottom lip, giving it a

couple of small nips, that made Draco breathe in sharply through his nose. And then

Potter moved away.

Draco made an indignant noise in the back of his throat, feeling completely

scandalized. This wasn't kissing. This was cheating.

Potter's forehead was pressed against Draco's, his arms wrapped around Draco's

neck, his legs holding Draco's lower body in a firm grip. Green eyes twinkled as

Potter laughed, clearly pleased with something. Draco had no idea what was funny

and he was just about to voice his displeasure when Potter stopped laughing and he

captured Draco's lips again. Draco's eyes remained open, and he stared at Potter's

lowered eyelashes for one fascinated moment before he closed his eyes and parted

his lips, accepting Potter's invading tongue.

Now this was kissing, or more precisely — bliss. Potter grabbed Draco's head and

kissed him fiercely, in that mythical way that invoked dizziness and made Draco

forget he could breathe through his nose, his heartbeat accelerating with each swipe

of Potter's skilful tongue. Draco didn't know what he had expected but he wasn't

expecting this. He thought kissing Potter would feel wrong, but it felt right. So right

Draco was forced to respond in kind, gripping Potter's hair and sucking on his

tongue.

They separated after what seemed like seconds, but judging by the redness and

puffiness of Potter's lips, it was probably much longer.

Just as Draco pressed his mouth to Potter's again (because it would be simply crazy

not to, since they were so close and wet, and obviously made for kissing) someone

cleared their throat. Frowning, Draco looked around, immediately noticing Rick, who

was standing close by. His arms were crossed on his chest and he glared, clearly

upset.

"Straight, are you?" Rick said accusingly.

"Um." Draco meant to say yes, but Potter was still in his lap and he had bent his

head, happily ignoring the man standing next to them in favour of sucking Draco's

neck. Which, judging by the shivers that passed through Draco's body, was yet

another thing Potter was good at. The fact that one of Draco's hands was beneath

Potter's shirt, stroking the warm skin of Potter's back, and the other one was pushed

into Potter's trousers, caressing and squeezing Potter's arse, would probably leave

Rick unconvinced if Draco continued claiming he was straight. "I'm experimenting,"

Draco breathed, completely distracted by pure wonder that he had managed to push

his hand into Potter's tight trousers. It was quite a feat. "We're just kissing," Draco

assured, realizing that his hand was stuck and it would probably just have to stay

there, attached to Potter's arse forever. Oddly, that wasn't really a distressing

prospect.

Whether Rick was still there or not, Draco had no idea because he was much too

busy whimpering. Potter had attacked his earlobe, sucking and tugging on it with his

teeth, at the same time circling his hips in a way that was highly inappropriate for a

public place.

Oh right. They were in a public place.

Draco's eyes snapped open and he realized that Rick wasn't the only person who had

been looking their way. Witches and wizards alike directed their gazes at them, and

Draco felt his face heat up. Potter was practically humping his lap and possibly trying

to eat his ear, and that was taking things too far. Draco should stop this now. This

was definitely gay, and Draco was straight. So.

"Wanna shag?" Potter whispered in Draco's ear.

"Okay," was Draco's ready answer. Draco closed his eyes and shook his head, trying

to clear it. What the fuck was wrong with him? "No, I meant — Hey!"

Potter had risen up and Draco was forced to follow because his hand was truly stuck

in Potter's trousers. Potter, however, managed to free Draco's hand, with the ease

that suggested his hand wasn't stuck at all. Then Potter interlaced their fingers

together and guided Draco towards the exit, along the way scowling at the

sandy-haired man that looked on with jealousy. Rick promptly scurried away in

fright.

Draco hadn't meant to follow Potter, but he was having trouble coordinating his brain

and his body, so he merely hoped that some fresh air would clear his head.

Surprisingly, that actually worked and by the time Potter led them to a deserted back

alley, Draco remembered he was supposed to be straight.

He gulped as Potter took out his wand. "Maybe this isn't a good idea."

"Leave then." Potter smiled, before cupping Draco through his trousers, and then

unceremoniously unzipped them, taking Draco's cock in his hand and murmuring an

incantation. Draco supposed he should have been horrified at this turn of events, but

all he did was whimper pathetically. "I'm not stopping you," Potter lied viciously.

Because how was this not stopping him? Draco stared at Potter's long fingers that

were inexplicably slick, and wrapped firmly around Draco's cock, stroking him and

liquefying his insides in the process.

"Fuck. That's ... That's ..." Draco gave up on describing the feeling. Witches touched

his cock before, but this was no witch — this was Potter. Which made this so much

sweeter.

"Good?" Potter asked, but his smug expression indicated this was merely a rhetorical

question. Which was fortunate because Draco was not able to answer. Even less so

when Potter stopped and pointed his wand at his own trousers. In a flash, they were

gone, and Potter stood in front of Draco just in his shirt and a pair of very nice

looking boots. Draco could do nothing but stare at Potter's cock that jutted proudly

from the thick patch of dark hair. For some reason, the leaking head of that cock

made Draco's mouth water.

Then Potter turned and placed his hands on the wall, thrusting his arse towards

Draco, looking back at him with a grin. "You were leaving?"

That was clearly another rhetorical question, but Draco shook his head quickly

anyway.

"Well then," Potter began. "Do you plan to just stare or do you plan to fuck?"

Draco's hands answered that question for him, flying to cup Potter's arse. Potter

moaned, spreading his legs wider and pushing into Draco's touch in clear approval.

At that point Draco decided staring had its benefits. He could happily spend hours

just looking at the half-naked Potter as he bucked his hips and shamelessly sought

Draco's caress.

"I need lube," Draco remembered. Technically, he could have reached for his wand,

but that meant he would have to remove his hands from Potter's arse, but then the

world might end. Or worse, Potter might disappear.

"Forget it. Take me tight. I like that." Potter reached behind himself and grabbed

Draco's cock again, guiding it between his arse cheeks. Shaking uncontrollably, but

taking the hint, Draco grabbed his cock and steeling himself, pushed inside the

furrowed ring of flesh that looked impossible to penetrate, but it yielded to him

nonetheless.

As he watched, mesmerized, at his cock disappearing in Harry Potter's arse, Draco

was forced to seriously doubt his straightness. And when the impossible heat and

tightness enveloped his prick, sending unbelievable jolts of pleasure and consuming

desire through his body, Draco stopped thinking altogether.

Then Potter made a sound, almost mewing as he clenched even tighter around

Draco's cock and that was it. Draco was coming.

"Oh Merlin. Oh no!" Draco gasped, panicking. But it was too late. He shut his eyes as

his orgasm shook his entire body, pleasure coursing through him, making him yell

out.

Quivering and trying to regain his breath, Draco wished the ground to open and

swallow him. Drained and ashamed, he pulled out of Potter, staring at Potter's

twitching hole, not even admiring the interesting view in his misery.

"Sorry," he said quietly. This was just his luck. Had he declined in the first place, he

wouldn't embarrass himself.

Potter turned around, looking — Draco gulped — angry? No, not angry, but there

was an odd glint in his eyes; of a predatory nature.

"You owe me now," Potter declared, and Draco had no time to question that

statement because Potter grabbed his upper arm and spun him around, slamming

him against the wall.

Draco cried out in surprise, and then yelped some more when his trousers were

pulled down. Realizing what Potter had meant, Draco panicked.

"Um," he said uncertainly while Potter caressed his arse. Which was actually nice,

but Draco did not plan to bottom. That was not an option. But Potter was clearly

unaware of this because he rudely spread Draco's arse cheeks. Frightened that Potter

decided he would bugger him right here and now, without any lubrication and all,

Draco had no choice but to complain. "I don't think ... oh!"

Something brushed against Draco's entrance, but it wasn't Potter's cock, nor was it

Potter's finger. It was something much slicker and ... oh, something that could

twirl. "Merlin!" Draco gasped, turning around and staring, amazed, at Potter

who had knelt down on the ground, his dark head placed firmly between Draco's arse

cheeks.

Potter's tongue plunged deeper and Draco all but screamed.

"That's ... oh!" Draco praised.

"Mmm-hmm," Potter agreed, moving his tongue in and out of Draco's arse and then

swirling it with a wet sound that made Draco blush and whimper and buck wildly. He

was trying to push back, eager to get even more of this odd, exquisite feeling, but

Potter's hands gripped him firmly, preventing any movement.

Draco slumped against the wall, suddenly willing to let Potter do to him whatever he

wished. Potter's fingers joined his tongue and that was not as bad as Draco thought

it would be. It was odd and it burned, but for some strange reason Draco missed the

feeling when Potter moved away.

"I'll fuck you now," Potter declared darkly.

"Okay," Draco agreed, his spent cock twitching admirably at those words.

And then Potter's warm hand was placed on Draco's hip, and something much larger

than Potter's fingers pushed inside of him. That burned and it was peculiar and

uncomfortable and terrifying, but then Potter leaned in, his breath hot against

Draco's ear and voice gentle when he asked, "Are you okay?"

Draco's feelings were much too complicated at that point to answer that question

adequately. Potter felt so nice, standing behind him, his hands on his hips and

tenderness in his voice, and yet he had just pushed something large up Draco's arse,

which was causing Draco some distress and plenty of worry.

"Wanted this for so long," Potter added quietly, his lips touching Draco's neck.

"I'm okay," Draco concluded at last.

Immediately, Potter pulled out and then pushed back in, making Draco reconsider

his previous conclusion. That fucking stung, but Potter did it again and

again, and every time it felt a little better. Draco pressed his cheek against the wall,

his hips pushing back minutely, but Potter's thrusts became much too fast, and

logically that should have been more uncomfortable, but every thrust made Draco

yearn for more. However, just as it was starting to feel really good, it was over.

Potter stiffened and grunted, his grip on Draco's hips almost bruising, and his spunk

hot as it spilled inside Draco's arse.

And Draco should not have liked that but he had.

After a few breathless moments, Potter encircled Draco's waist and pulled him

closer, making Draco's head lean backwards against his shoulder.

"So," Potter murmured. "Still straight?"

"Hmm," Draco commented neutrally. He honestly didn't know. While he did not wish

to have sex with women at the moment, he didn't really want to have sex with other

men either. Just Potter. Maybe he was Pottersexual.

"What?" Potter pouted.

"Well, this was an interesting experiment, but I'm afraid I'll have to experiment

some more." At this proclamation, Potter's lips curved into a smile, which was wiped

off quickly when Draco added, "Perhaps I should acquire some different test

subjects. Do a proper research."

Potter's arms tightened around Draco's waist. "Really?" he asked through clenched

teeth.

"Yes indeed. What do you suggest?" Draco asked innocently.

Potter's eyes darkened and one of his hands slid lower, wrapping itself around

Draco's cock. Draco's eyelashes fluttered, and his breathing sped up when Potter

said, "I'm willing to be your test subject for as long as you need one. So I see no

reason for you to look elsewhere."

Draco smiled, pleased with this statement. In fact, he was so pleased he decided

Potter deserved a reward.

"Then I think I should take you home," Draco informed him, smiling his charming

smile number one.

Potter's hand tightened around Draco's cock and his lips parted. "And then what?" he

breathed.

"Then ..." Draco mused. "We'll both find out how bent I really am. Also, bendy."

Potter grinned as his other hand traced idle circles on Draco's stomach. "You know, if

I knew that the leather trousers would do the trick, I'd cease my stalking and put

them on a long time ago."

Draco's eyes widened in surprise. The revelation that Potter had been stalking him

was quite a shock, especially since Draco had never noticed it, but it was oddly

endearing. And slightly creepy, but well, Draco could handle creepy in this instance.

"If I knew you wanted to kiss my arse, Potter, I'd cease my resisting and let you do

it in the club."

Blushing crimson and clearing his throat, Potter asserted, "Well, now that we're both

wiser, I should show you what else I want to kiss. And lick. And suck." Potter's

thumb circled the head of Draco's cock lightly.

Shivering in delight and melting backwards into Potter's embrace, Draco gave up on

straightness completely. As Potter clutched him tighter to his body, preparing to

Apparate them away, Draco concluded, "I think, after all, that this experiment was

an utter success."