Hate You

"You acted like a fucking git today," Harry says through clenched teeth, his fists full of Malfoy's robes.

"I act like a git every day," Malfoy replies, wearing that incensuous and seemingly permanent smirk, and Harry slams him backwards into the wall with his grip on the front of his robes.

"You sabotaged my potion," he hisses, mouth inches away from Malfoy's face, both flushed from the struggle.

"Like it would have mattered," drawled Malfoy. "It's obvious Snape's already decided to fail you. I don't know why you even bother showing up anymo--" but Harry covers the blond boy's mouth with his own, teeth scraping angrily against Draco's lips, even as Draco parts them, adding his own tongue and teeth to play, more an assault than a kiss.

Harry tugs hard at Draco's robes; they fall to the floor easily. Harry's not wearing any, only the white shirt tucked into his trousers, and now they're evenly matched.

Malfoy's hands are at Harry's waist now, working frantically to untuck his shirt as Harry carelessly unfastens the buttons at Draco's collar, fingernails scraping against his throat.

"Potter," he groans, "you are--a complete--arse." His sentence is broken up by Harry's lips and teeth and tongue over his own.

"You think so?" Harry pries at the shirt, buttons coming undone all at once, and one sent flying from the force. One rough hand reaches up to grasp a fistful of Malfoy's hair, snapping his head to the side to allow Harry's mouth to move to Malfoy's long and delicate neck, biting hard at the soft skin there.

"Yesss," he hisses, eyes squeezing shut for just a moment. "You think you're so--"

Harry releases Draco's hair now, dropping his hands to smooth over his pale chest, and he lets a few words drop from his tongue in the language he knows Draco can't resist--"Shut up, Malfoy."--Parseltongue.

Malfoy's body tenses at the sound of Harry's hissing; Harry knows exactly what the noise does to him. In a second it's Harry against the wall, and Draco, now shirtless, pinning him there with his own body, his arousal pressing hard into Harry's hip.

"Fuck you," he growls, hips holding Harry firmly in place as he lifts Harry's shirt over his head, the sound of ripping seams briefly filling the room before it's off. His fingers trace the lines where the buttons scratched Harry's neck and chest. Harry shudders.

"You're not as strong as you think you are, Malfoy," Harry uses the snake's tongue again and Malfoy rolls his hips against Harry's, letting out a low moan.

Harry presses back, guiding Draco off of him and back against the wall with his lower body. His hands pin Draco's arms to the wall above him as he moves in to kiss him again, his teeth sinking into the boy's lower lip, drawing blood from the swollen flesh there. He flicks his tongue over the new wound; Draco shivers beneath him.

"You are--a foul--fucking--prat, Malfoy," he breathes when he pulls away and releases Draco's arms, rocking his hips against the Slytherin.

Malfoy groans, his fingernails piercing Harry's lower back as he presses against it, forcing Harry's pelvis further against his own. "Arrogant--shit--" he chokes out, digging his nails into Harry's back once more for emphasis.

Harry stills his hips, breathing heavily. "When are you going to say it, Malfoy?"

Draco remained silent, eyes like steel glaring daggers at Harry.

"You know I'm not going to fuck you until you ask." Harry's fingers are working Draco's belt out of its loops now, unfastening the buckle and sliding it free.

"Fucking hell, Potter," Malfoy says hoarsely as Harry unzips his fly, fabric falling to just beneath his hips.

When Harry's hand reaches inside his pants to grip tight around the base of his cock, Draco inhales sharply, pushing hard into the touch.

"You think you're always so in control of things, Malfoy," Harry speaks low into Draco's ear, teeth grazing the lobe there before he draws his tongue down the pulsing line of his rival's jugular, eliciting a soft hiss from the boy. "I know better." Harry's thumb traces along the throbbing vein of Malfoy's cock beneath it.

"Potter--" is all Draco can manage, his voice hardened but obviously missing its usual edge. He can't help but whimper just slightly at the loss of contact when Harry removes his hand from his pants, but then he's pulling them down and off and Draco's shoes and socks are gone and Harry is on him again, pressing together their bare skin and the rough fabric of his trousers pushing against Draco's exposed cock.

Harry threads his fingers into white-blond hair, his grip just strong enough that Malfoy can't move his head, and presses his mouth against Malfoy's again, seeking out the tender spot he'd bitten earlier and sucking hard at the injury, tasting blood. His rival's body twists beneath him. "Hate you so fucking much," he mumbles into Draco's mouth tugging at his hair. Draco seems to moan in agreement, pressing himself up into Harry's body.

"Fuck, Potter," he says breathlessly, Harry's grip on his hair loosening as he waits to hear Malfoy say the words. "I--fuck." Draco's skin is flushed and sweaty; he leans against the wall with his full weight, his head back, chest heaving.

Harry rolls his hips forward, ensuring that his erection meets with Malfoy's through the cloth. "You want me inside you, Malfoy. Say it."

"Fuck," Draco whispers, whimpering as he pushes back in time with Harry's motions. "Fuck, fuck." Harry's hand moves from the back of his head now to his hip, fingers following the curve of the bone upward and then backward toward the swell of his ass. Draco gasps. "I... I want you to fuck me, Potter," he barely whispers, Harry's fingers hovering, brushing just slightly, over the crack of his arse.

Harry steps back, no longer touching the other boy. "Go on, then."

Malfoy's jaw clenches into a scowl as he stumbles away from the wall, glaring over his shoulder at Harry as he kneels on all fours. "I fucking hate you, Potter," he spits harshly, but his voice falters a little as Harry approaches, kneeling behind him and muttering a spell.

"Mmhmm," Harry hums in response, tracing a slicked finger down the crack of Draco's arse. Draco's breath catches. Harry repeats the action once more, and then again, until Draco is pushing back at the light touch, drawing in air with deep, hissing inhales; only then does Harry push one finger inside, causing Draco to moan loudly, his body shaking in front of Harry.

"Tell me what you want, Malfoy," Harry says calmly, pushing against the resistance of Malfoy's body.

"I--I want..." Malfoy trails off, panting.

Harry pulls back until his finger is nearly gone from his rival's body. His other hand holds Draco's hip in a bruising grip, preventing him from pressing back. "Tell me what you want."

"I want you inside me," he answers quietly, his head down, and he moans wantonly as Harry plunges the length of his finger back inside him in response.

"Now tell me," says Harry again, "how badly you want it."

Draco's breathing is ragged and heavy as Harry adds another finger to join the first, pulling back and pushing forward slowly, easing Draco's tight muscles into submission. "So fucking bad, Potter--fuck!--" Harry's fingers are buried to the base now, tips just brushing against Draco's most sensitive spot--"N-need it, Potter. Thought about it all day--" he gasps and groans when Harry pushes against the spot again, deliberately this time.

"All day?" Harry asks, adding a third slicked finger. Draco moans and rocks his hip backwards in response.

"Even when you told me you could fly better drunk than I did in last week's match?"

"Yes, fuck, yes, all fucking day," Draco groans, his back arching.

Harry's fingers work in and out of the Slytherin for a while longer, Draco pushing back into him with each movement. Draco bites his lip as Harry removes his fingers, placing the head of his cock at Draco's entrance not long afterward.

Harry's hand slides up across Draco's spine, inching up to the base of his neck, where he grabs hold of Draco's hair once more, and presses against Draco teasingly.

"Do it, Potter. Fuck me." Malfoy's voice lacks control now, dripping with need.

"Such--a--fucking--prick--" Harry groans as he pushes into the incredible heat that is Malfoy's body, pulling back the Slytherin's head with the grip on his hair.

Draco's body is lithe and catlike in front of Harry, back arched and hips cocked, his head forced back as far as possible as Harry tugs at his hair, and his red, swollen lips parted and letting out a continuous stream of moans and curses.

Harry fucks him slowly like this, one hand tangled in the boy's pale hair, the other steadying himself on the small of Draco's back, until Draco is whimpering, shaking with the need for more.

Harry releases Malfoy's hair from his grip, moving his hand down to a bright pale shoulder. "You need to stop doing these things," he chides, pulling out of Malfoy slowly before slamming back into him, the force of it sending vibrations all the way down to his knees, the angle such that there's no question whether he's making contact with the other boy's prostate or not.

Draco cries out in the most exquisite combination of pleasure and pain, and Harry isn't sure exactly which element of it turns him on more.

Fueled by Malfoy's cries, Harry continues to thrust sharply, each impact jarring both their bodies. His hand wanders from Draco's shoulder to the expanse of his back, fingernails leaving trails of hot red against the pale cream of his skin, then underneath to Draco's cock, which twitches in his hand with every thrust. He grips it tightly, hsi fingers mimicking the movements of his hips, and Draco whimpers, pressing into each thrust as much as possible.

Harry quickens his pace, pulling frantically at Malfoy's cock as he fucks him, hitting that spot within Malfoy even more directly now. "Do you want to come for me now, Malfoy?"

"Fuck--yes--god, yes--" Draco's limbs are shaking violently, threatening to give way.

"Then come for me now. I'm the only one who can get you to come like this, aren't I, Malfoy?"

"Yes--Potter--yes--fuck--only you, just you, hate you so--" Draco's body turns rigid as he lets out a sobbing moan, his cock jerking in Harry's hand as it coats it with a hot wetness.

Harry grips Draco's hips with both hands now, nails sinking into the soft flesh as he slams into his rival's limp, writhing body, his own body shaking with his impending orgasm.

"Shit--god--Malfoy," he gasps as he comes, pushing Draco further onto his cock until the intensity begins to ebb.

"Fuck," he breathes after a moment, sliding out of Malfoy and casting a quiet cleaning charm before standing and refastening his trousers. Harry retrieves his shirt and Malfoy's clothes, tossing the latter at the boy still sitting naked on the floor, his face cold and full of distaste once more.

Harry redresses in his shirt as Malfoy works quickly to get all of his clothes back on. He smiles down at his enemy.

"I'll see you in Potions, then."