Draco watched Potter blink widely, a devastating blush climbing his neck and cheeks all the way to his glasses frames. The surprised expression was almost too painful for Draco to bear witness.
"Wait...You what?” Potter asked a little too loudly, earning a hiss from Madam Pince at the front of the library.
Draco, who felt smothered beneath the weight of his own blush, twisted his hands in his lap and looked down at the table saying nothing.
“You’re serious?” Potter asked more quietly.
Draco grimaced. “I mean, it’s not really the sort of thing one casually brings up in conversation, is it? I just-” He glanced back up to see Potter still in a harassed state of disbelief. “It’s stupid,” he said shaking his head. “Nevermind. Just forget I said anything. It’s fine.”
“No, that’s n-"
“Really, just forget it.” Draco quickly scraped his parchments and books from the table, stuffing the lot haphazardly into his bag, desperate to retreat.
Potter reached for his arm but his fingertips only managed to brush Draco’s fleeting robe sleeve. “Hey-"
“I’ll see you around, yeah?” Draco said, walking briskly from the stunned Gryffindor without a look back.
An afternoon spent at the pitch with Blaise and the new Slytherin Quidditch team helped to distract Draco from his frustrations, but after flying for almost three hours, he was knackered.
“I’m turning in,” he called to Blaise, who nodded and whistled to signal the others.
“Dawkins, don’t try anything too bold on your dives,” Draco advised Slytherin’s new seeker as the group flew towards the showers. “If you just keep your head down, you...you’ll, er...”
Draco trailed off having spotted someone down in the front of the ground stands. Someone who Draco could see, even from a distance, had a head of ridiculously disheveled dark hair and sunlight glinting off their glasses.
Draco’s stomach flipped and he forced his eyes away, focusing ahead of him.
“I’ll what?” Dawkins asked.
“What?” Draco started at the question. “Oh, just...just keep your head down.”
Draco wasn’t sure how long he’d been in the shower. Longer than usual, certainly. Long enough for his skin to redden and his fingertips to wrinkle.
He stood with his face upturned in the water stream, his hands running back over his hair. The tension he’d been holding between his shoulders was just starting to bleed away when the curtain was ripped open behind him.
He whipped around, blinking the water from his eyes, to see Potter standing naked in the stall’s opening. His glasses were off and he had a manic look in his eye. His hands were fisted at his sides next to- Draco swallowed- the rather intimidating erection standing out stiffly from a thatch of dark curls. It was swollen with veins protruding from its sides and the foreskin was drawn nearly all the way back, revealing its darkened head.
Draco was shocked still for a moment, but then Potter was moving, striding purposefully into the cubicle. Without hesitation, he reached below Draco’s arse cheeks and roughly hoisted him up. Draco scrambled, instinctively locking his legs around Potter’s waist and grabbing at his shoulders to steady himself. Potter kept walking until Draco’s back collided none too gently with the tiled wall, water spraying down their sides.
“Unph!” Draco grunted at the contact as his brain fought to catch up with what was happening. To process the bruising grip on his thighs, Potter’s hard cock pressed between their bodies, the curtain hanging wide open to the rest of the room while the distant voices of his peers trickled in. Just as Draco’s head began to clear, Potter’s mouth latched viciously onto the side of his neck and his cognition slipped again.
Draco’s eyes rolled and his head fell to the side, giving the hungry lips reign. The water hitting them set off a steam charged with Potter’s scent and it was like a whiff of the strongest amortentia: all Potter’s musk and arousal and sun from the pitch. Draco’s cock, which had been pressed limply between his thigh and Potter’s stomach, rapidly began to swell.
“What are y-?” He tried to ask.
“Hush,” Potter hissed, pulling his mouth away and pinning Draco with a hard stare. “You don’t talk.”
“Malfoy,” he warned.
Wary of the wild glint in Potter’s eye, Draco shut his mouth, but his apprehension was quickly forgotten when Potter rolled his hips against him, pressing their bodies harder into the wall. Potter released one of Draco’s thighs and ran his hand up Draco’s flank, stopping to give the pink nipple there a firm tweak. The shock of feeling caused Draco to gasp in surprise and give an involuntary buck into Potter’s hips.
“Hm. I wouldn’t have guessed you liked that,” Potter murmured thoughtfully, rolling the now peaked nipple between his fingers. “Interesting.”
Draco pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, trying to school his features and not let on exactly how much he liked it. Any efforts, however, were proven futile by the speed at which his cock had hardened, now standing vertically between their stomachs.
“Very interesting,” Potter said as he hungrily eyed the new development. He looked up, his gaze cutting into Draco again. “Hold onto my shoulders,” he commanded.
His tone brooked no negotiation, so Draco did as instructed, wrapping his arms around Potter’s shoulders tightly enough to secure himself.
Potter removed his hand from Draco’s other thigh, sliding it up and around to grip the shaft of Draco’s cock. Draco bit down harder to restrain any noises that threatened to spill from his lips. His cock throbbed and spit out a thick pearl of precome. Potter stroked upwards, catching the slippery fluid with his thumb and distributing it around the cockhead, pressing firmly beneath the crown. This time, Draco couldn’t stop the whimper in his throat.
“Careful,” Potter purred. “You want them to hear you?” He tossed his head, indicating the voices carrying on outside. “You want them to come over here and see you? See you whining for me to touch your cock? Gagging for it?”
Draco shifted against him again. There was an undeniable thrill to something like this happening with his friends a few stalls away, completely unaware. And the threat of someone finding out? Well maybe he did want that. Maybe a part of him wanted someone to round the corner and see him pinned to the wall with Harry Potter ravaging him. Who knew what would happen if he were caught in a scene like this? The thought shouldn’t have set his body thrumming with excitement, but it did.
He thought Potter might be enjoying it too judging by the pink colouring the tops of his cheeks and the solid twitch his prick gave from where it was trapped against Draco’s bollocks.
With a dazed smirk, Draco released his bottom lip, letting his mouth fall open on a sigh.
“Do you?” He whispered.
Potter’s eyes narrowed, though his lips quirked up in amusement. “I thought I told you no talking, Malfoy.”
When Draco opened his mouth to speak again, Potter surged forward, crashing his mouth almost painfully into Draco’s and swallowing any words that may have come. His tongue plunged in, claiming every inch. Each time Draco rose to match him in intensity, Potter would give his cock a tight fisted stroke, rendering Draco boneless long enough to reclaim charge.
It was a violent kiss, their teeth clacking and biting. The intensity combined with the lack of oxygen due to the sheer length of the kiss was beginning to make Draco dizzy. Potter finally relented, pulling away with a final stinging nip to Draco’s bottom lip.
Draco gulped a breath into his burning lungs and, addled from the attack, watched in a dreamlike state as Potter brought the hand that had been clamped onto Draco’s nipple up to his mouth. Keeping eye contact, Potter spit on his fingers.
The shudder that ran through Draco was so strong, he had to adjust his grip on Potter to remain supported. He leaned forward, pressing his mouth to Potter’s jaw and wrapping his arms round his neck, silently hoping the boy would allow it. He clamped his eyes shut in anticipation as he felt rather than saw Potter’s arm moving lower. And lower. And lower until the spit slicked fingers pressed against his hole.
Draco muffled a cry in Potter’s neck, jolting as a finger rubbed circles over his entrance with increasing pressure. He halfheartedly looked over Potter’s shoulder at the open curtain, in the direction of those who might hear him, but he just couldn’t keep quiet. He whimpered again as the tip of Potter’s finger pressed inside.
“That’s it,” Potter said gruffly, working his finger around with more force and stroking Draco’s erection in time. He shifted his hand up to quickly tug the sensitive and steadily weeping cockhead before inserting a second fingertip into Draco’s arse without warning.
Draco jerked at the sudden stretch, hissing and digging his fingernails into Potter’s shoulders.
Potter’s fingers stilled and he returned his other hand to the long, languid strokes over Draco’s prick. “You okay?” He asked, the flame in his voice momentarily flickering.
But Draco was more than okay. The stretch and the burn and the pressure. It was good. Fuck, it was so good.
“Mm,” he hummed, nodding frantically into Potter’s neck.
Slowly the fingers began to move again. The angle of their bodies didn’t allow for deeper penetration, but Potter could massage at the tight ring, loosening it with small movements.
“Yeah,” Potter breathed, his voice ragged once more. “You like when it hurts, don’t you?” He tugged his fingers to one side causing Draco to gasp. “When someone takes charge?”
Merlin, he did. Draco clamped his mouth down at the junction of Potter’s neck and shoulder, sucking and licking in lieu of an answer. Potter let his head fall back and he sighed as well.
“Nnngh,” Draco keened as Potter stroked up his cock.
“Malfoy,” Potter repeated in a harsh whisper.
Draco reluctantly pulled away to look at Potter whose jaw was set and eyes bright. His partially wet hair was sticking up in a way that made him look positively mad.
“Stand up,” Potter instructed as he moved both his hands to Draco’s waist.
Draco frowned at the loss of Potter’s fingers and he could feel his hole clench, grasping to filled again. Slowly, he unclasped his stiff legs and lowered himself to the floor. The skin between his thighs and under his bollocks was slick where Potter’s cock had dribbled copious amounts of precome.
Potter stepped back and stroked himself, smearing the wetness and sighing heavily in pleasure.
“Turn around,” he said roughly. “Put your hands on the wall. Now.”
Draco swallowed hard and his prick bobbed in anticipation. While he didn’t want to take his eyes of Potter, off his swollen and flushed cock, his heavy balls and his slick stomach, he did want whatever Potter was going to do to him when he turned around. He desperately wanted that. So he obeyed, turning and stretching his arms above his head so he was braced against the tile, warm water thrumming over his shoulder and down his side.
“Spread your legs,” Potter’s voice rumbled suddenly very close to Draco’s ear.
Draco shivered and slid his feet apart. He stood still waiting for further instructions, but none came. For a long moment, nothing came and he thought disappointedly that Potter might have left. He was about to turn when hands were on his arsecheeks, prizing them apart, and Potter’s mouth was delving into the divide.
Draco let out an undignified yip of surprise before biting down on his own bicep to stifle it.
Potter’s tongue lay flat stroke after stroke over Draco’s fluttering hole, drawing from the underside of his balls up to the base of his spine. The sensation was almost unbearable, the situation too surreal. Too much, yet not enough. Aching for more, Draco curved his lower back, pressing his arse out shamelessly.
This seemed to spur Potter on and he increased his intensity, slurping and nipping at skin, releasing muffled, vibrating sounds. He reached between Draco’s legs, giving his cock a few harsh tugs while flicking the point of his tongue into his arse.
Draco wheezed silently in time with each small jab, leaning forward to rest his forehead on the cool tile. He was going to lose his mind, he decided. There was nothing for it.
Behind Draco, Potter murmured something between licks and then slippery fingers were tracing the pliant muscle of Draco’s hole alongside his tongue. Potter easily slid one finger in all the way to the base knuckle. He pulled out and the second went in with little more difficulty. He worked them in quickly, twisting out and stroking Draco’s inner walls while still lavishing his cleft.
Draco took to gasping in heavy breaths and pushing them out through his mouth in attempts to stay quiet, though all he really wanted to do was ride Potter's face and scream out how amazing it felt.
When Potter slipped a third fingertip in, his motions changed from long, fast thrusts to short, controlled ones.
The stretch was intense but wonderful. Draco’s muscles clenched down on the fingers sporadically, making him feel more full than he already was. Between his legs, his cock was approaching a rather painful looking shade of red as it hung heavily, a long line of viscous fluid stretching unbroken to the shower floor.
All too soon, Potter’s fingers were retracted, causing Draco to whimper in frustration. But then there was the promising sound of Potter slicking himself up.
“‘M gonna fuck you, Malfoy,” Potter said, again, very close to Draco. His voice trembled as he seemed to fight for control.
A hand curved over Draco’s hip and Potter’s blunt cockhead was guided up against his hole. Draco widened his stance further, pressing back; however, nothing came. Potter was firm against him but remained still.
Draco turned his head to the side, fully out of the spray of water. He hummed quietly and nodded.
“Please,” he gasped.
Potter grunted and pushed forward, finally breaching Draco’s hole. Draco huffed out a breath of relief. But fuck if Potter wasn’t thick and it took some time to adjust.
For the first time, Potter let out a throaty, untempered groan that reverberated around them. He dropped his forehead to Draco’s shoulder and stood still for another moment before shallowly pumping his hips, sinking further into Draco until he was fully seated.
Draco gasped again for breath, this time from such a full feeling. With all of Potter’s cock in him, it felt like there was hardly room in his body for something so frivolous as air.
When Potter drew out, Draco’s arse clung to him, begging him to stay. His carnal prayers were answered as Potter quickly pressed back in, repeating the motions again and again and again with increasing force until their skin slapped wetly in an enthusiastic rhythm.
Potter’s left hand moved up, grabbing onto Draco’s shoulder before sliding carefully around the base of his neck, holding Draco still as his hips snapped forward. Draco couldn’t have explained why it felt so good when Potter squeezed and it became difficult to draw a breath, but he didn’t need an explanation to experience the pleasure. He even leaned forward slightly, tightening the grip on himself.
With pressure building in his forehead, Draco watched below as his cock bobbed, tragically untouched. As if reading Draco's mind, Potter’s right hand slowly slid forward over Draco’s hip and into the patch of dark golden hair. He gave it a brief, firm tug before reaching further and wrapping his hand around Draco’s cock. Soon, Potter’s hand was matching each thrust into Draco with a twisting motion and Draco had to lock his elbows or risk his arms collapsing and falling into the wall.
Draco felt his orgasm rapidly rising to the surface, drawing from his groin and his head. And as Potter brushed the place inside him that made his toes curl against the tile, Draco gasped a breath, heat shooting up his spine and waves of pleasure ripping out of him. Bollocks to whoever might hear, he cried out as he came, stripe after stripe of his release painting the shower wall, his muscles tensing before going liquid.
As Draco fought to stay upright, loose limbed and trembling, Potter kept on, thrusting violently as his moans became louder and his motions uncontrolled. Potter’s cock drew across Draco’s prostate once more and it was too much. Draco’s arms gave way and he collapsed limply forward, his chest and cheek colliding with the cool tile, Potter falling right behind him and pinning him in place.
Potter’s hands scrabbled to Draco’s hips, lifting his arse and fucking into him like he owned him.
“Fuck!” Potter shouted.
Draco knew he should be worried about the noise, but the rough drag of Potter inside him took precedent over all else in his mind.
Then Potter stuttered, his final few thrusts coming slow and deep as he came, huffing hot breaths over Draco’s shoulder. Draco savored the feeling of Potter pulsing inside him, overcome with the fullness and warmth and wetness between their bodies. He wanted the feeling to last forever.
Regrettably, after a minute or so, after twitching muscles had calmed and heart rates had slowed, he felt Potter’s cock slip out of him. Following was a warm trail of come sliding down his inner thigh until one of Potter’s fingers caught and coaxed it back up and inside Draco’s loose, puffy hole with shallow motions. Draco’s knees shook at the sensation. It was a wonder that he remained standing.
Potter kissed down Draco’s neck, his free hand slowly kneading at Draco’s bruised hip. Draco stayed pressed against the wall, panting and blowing out against the water running down his face.
“I’ll see you later, yeah?” Potter murmured before withdrawing his fingers.
Cold air washed over Draco’s back as Potter stepped away, but Draco didn’t have the energy to turn around. Instead, he listened to the receding footsteps. Once they faded, he was surprised to find the other voices had ceased as well. Draco strained to hear anyone, but there was only the sound of the water pouring around him.
After several minutes of resting halfway under the spray, Draco pushed himself from the wall and languidly finished washing up. He expected to hear others once he stepped out of the shower, but still nothing. It was silent- the room empty.
Once dressed, Draco walked back to the castle from the pitch, enjoying the slight twinge in his arse with every step. His whole body felt loose and pliant, a vast difference from the tension he’d felt earlier, and he couldn’t help but smile.
When Draco entered the eighth year boys' dormitory, he flopped down onto his four poster. It was still too early for bed, but a lie down sounded quite nice. He was just beginning to doze when the door click open. He cracked an eye as Potter approached, blushing deeply but grinning all the same.
Draco shifted over on the mattress to open up a space. Potter crawled onto the bed, slinking up Draco’s side and coming to rest against his chest under his arm.
“So, erm...what do you think?” Potter asked quietly.
“I think you’re full of surprises,” Draco smiled lazily, running his fingers in light scratching circles in Potter’s hair. “Did you use an voice echoing charm? That was clever of you.”
Potter shrugged as he stroked his fingers up and down Draco’s side. “I set it up after the other guys left. I wasn’t sure if you wanted to risk actually getting caught. I’d have asked for clarification earlier but you ran off pretty quickly,” he finished with a playful poke.
Draco rolled his eyes and sighed. “Excuse me for not being as shameless as you Gryffindors. We can’t all lack a sense of embarrassment.”
Potter looked up with a fond smile on his face. “Babe, I don’t know why you were so embarrassed about wanting that. It was really bloody hot. Actually, I think we should try living out our fantasies more often. If ‘domineering public shower fuck’ set any precedent, it would definitely keep things exciting.”
“Oh shut it,” Draco groaned, heat rising in his cheeks at his fantasy being named out loud. “I never called it that. And I certainly hope you’re not implying that my bed is ever anything less than exciting.”
“Of course not,” Potter chuckled before stretching up to steal a kiss, “but learning your deepest, darkest desires that nobody else knows...mm!” He kissed Draco again with a playful tug at Draco’s waistband. “Yes please.”
“Well next time it’s your turn to make an utter fool of yourself disclosing what ridiculous thing turns you on.”
“Hm,” Potter nuzzled underneath Draco’s chin, causing goosebumps to prickle his skin. “I’ve always been quite curious about spanking,” he said casually. “Maybe I could try that next.”
Draco nearly swallowed his tongue. “Salazar, Potter, the mouth on you sometimes,” Draco chastised weakly even as his cock gave an interested twitch.
“Oh, I know you like my mouth too,” Potter said cheekily, waggling his eyebrows.
Draco let out an undignified snort before pulling Potter close and resting his chin in his hair. “You’re so self-assured,” he said on a yawn.
“Yeah, but you love me.”
“Merlin help me, I do,” Draco sighed.
“I love you too, Draco,” Potter said softly, tucking closer to Draco’s chest.
“Good.” Draco shut his eyes. “Wake me when it’s time for dinner.”
“Sure. I think I know just the way, too,” Potter said, lightly rolling his fingers over Draco’s nipple through his shirt.
Draco hissed softly, his chest reaching up to meet the touch. “Later, you devil. Let me rest for a while.”
“All right, I suppose your arse does deserve a break.”
“Quite,” Draco agreed sleepily.
“Especially if spanking is up next.”
Draco scoffed, though a smirk tugged at his lips as he relaxed back into his pillow. Perhaps Potter was right. Perhaps living out their fantasies didn't sound so awful after all.