“I still can’t believe this is a candid shot,” Malfoy exclaims fervently for the enth time. “God, you’re hot.”
It’s a full length shot of Harry, on the front cover of Witch Weekly, ‘Harry Potter – Voted Hottest Quidditch Star, Third Year in a Row!’ in large yellow lettering written down the side.
Harry stands on the field, leaning on his broom, looking somewhere off to his left, laughing and then turning to look towards the camera. He’s bare-chested and his lean, muscled torso gleams with a slight sheen of perspiration, his eyes, not hidden behind glasses anymore, gleaming startlingly green, his wild hair flying gently in a light breeze, a fanged earring bouncing against his jaw over the deep black lines of the tattoo that curls up from his back, reaching up the side of his neck like ebony tendrils. His jeans sit low on his hips and sports a large rip over one knee, his bare feet idly crossing over one another as he leans an elbow on the broom, muscled arms flexing inadvertently.
Harry clicks his tongue, grabbing for the magazine. “Would you put that shit away?”
“Ha!” Malfoy easily dodges him. “Some star Seeker,” he mutters under his breath, continuing to peer at the cover photo.
“I could’ve got you if I wanted to,” Harry grumbles, jostling him with a hard elbow.
“You already got me,” Malfoy cheeses, leaning into him with a grin. Harry roughly grabs him around the shoulders, kissing his cheek and wrestling the magazine out of his hands, both of them laughing as they struggle standing in the middle of the sidewalk. Harry manages to wrest the offending magazine out of Malfoy’s bony grasp and quickly stuffs it down the front of his t-shirt. “I’ve been half-hard all day, staring at that picture,” Malfoy murmurs suggestively, still pressed up against Harry from their sudden scuffle. Harry draws in a sharp breath and looks around quickly, nodding awkwardly to a man in a suit, hurrying by, throwing repeated, quick side-glances at them.
“Git.” Harry pecks the cheekily grinning mouth and pulls him along, continuing down the sidewalk.
“Why are you limping?” Malfoy suddenly notices Harry’s encumbered gait.
“Twisted my ankle during practice.” Harry grimaces slightly. “Landed too hard on it.”
“Didn’t the medic see to it?”
“That weird green stuff never works on me,” Harry complains. “I’m going to stop by the drug store and get some of the Muggle spray I used on my back last time.”
Malfoy makes a face, very pointedly sneering.
“What kind of a wizard are you, Potter?” he asks disgustedly.
“The kind who was brought up by Muggles, you arrogant ponce.” Harry kisses his forehead. “Trust me, these sprays work incredibly well. Next time you’ve strained a muscle--”
“I’m going to have to stop you right there.” Malfoy holds up a finger, tilting his head. “I never have, and never will, use any of those weird Muggle ‘drug store’--” He makes air quotes. “—items.”
“Git. Look, here we are.” Harry cuts across Malfoy’s path, entering the Muggle drug store with the large, garishly flashing neon sign above it. “Well, come on then.” He impatiently holds out his hand as Malfoy stands there looking mutinous. Harry wiggles his fingers, glaring.
Malfoy sighs, steps over a puddle and lets Harry pull him inside.
The Muggle behind the counter stares impassively, chin resting on one hand.
“Where can I find one of those pain relieving sprays?” Harry asks her politely, as Malfoy stares around with his lip curled, his fingers crushing Harry’s.
The woman doesn’t answer, simply staring at them with her large, toad like eyes, her face literally blank.
“Er...” Harry looks down the nearest aisle. “Never mind, I’ll find it.” He smiles.
She doesn’t even blink.
“What’s her problem?” Malfoy whispers fiercely. “Rude bint. She probably needs to get shagged good and proper, I tell you.”
“Draco!” Harry snorts, dragging him past a worried looking old man who stares at them through thick spectacles, before going back to rifling through a box of eye drops.
Harry pulls him through three aisles, frowning at the cramped shelves, Malfoy walking so close to him that they keep tripping over each other’s feet, his grey eyes darting around anxiously as if something might jump out and maul him.
“Oh, here we are.” Harry suddenly stops next to a shelf stocked with a whole bunch of different pain relieving sprays. “Which one was it last time, do you maybe remember?” He releases Malfoy’s hand to pull down a couple of boxes and examine them.
Malfoy snorts derisively in reply, stuffing his hands into his pockets and looking around. Harry stands there, muttering to himself and peering at the tiny print on the boxes, while Malfoy slowly edges his way down the aisle, starting in alarm when a chubby, dimpled woman wearing a rather large gold cross around her neck, smiles at him.
He quickly lowers his gaze and hurries past her, reaching blindly for the nearest thing, as though he was headed there in the first place. He sighs in relief when the woman goes back to comparing two different brands of cough syrup, and then frowns down at the box he’d picked at random.
“Condoms,” he mutters under his breath. “Harry,” he hisses down the aisle.
“Mmm?” Harry is sitting on his haunches, frowning down at a long bottle with a green cap.
“Harry!” he hisses louder.
“No, this wasn’t it.” Harry shakes his head, haphazardly shoving the bottle back, making several others tumble off. “Oh, shit." He quickly catches three of them, holding them pressed against the shelf to stop them hitting the floor.
“Harry!” Malfoy scowls. “What are condoms?” he calls out.
Harry freezes, his head snapping around so quickly that Malfoy hears his neck click, right up to where he’s standing several feet away. The woman with the cough syrup is staring at him with wide eyes, her mouth turned down at the corners.
“Are they sweets?” he continues, completely unaware, still staring down at the box. “These say ‘flavoured’.”
Before he can look up, Harry is at his side.
“Fucking hell,” he whispers, grabbing the box and putting it back. “You’re going to be the death of me.”
“What?” Malfoy looks bewildered, promptly pulling the box back down. “Why? I want to see. What are these? Am I allowed to taste one before I buy them?”
The woman coughs loudly and Harry makes a weird, high-pitched squeaking sound as he snatches back the box.
“They’re Muggle contraception, for heaven’s sake!” he hisses. “Put them back, babe, please!” he groans as Malfoy stubbornly grabs the box again.
He snorts. “Muggles use contraception? Then why are there so many of them?”
Harry quickly moves to stand in front of Malfoy, effectively blocking him.
“You’re unbelievable!” Harry’s eyes are bulging even as he grins reluctantly. “Put them back, let’s just pick one stupid spray and go, come on." Harry tries taking the box out of his hands but Malfoy simply turns away, still examining the box of condoms.
“But why are they flavoured?” he asks, puzzled.
Harry purses his lips, throws a quick glance over his shoulder and then gives him a pointed look.
“For...” He makes a vague gesture.
“Eh?” Malfoy cocks an eyebrow.
“Oral sex, you idiot,” Harry whispers, rolling his eyes. Malfoy looks at him, a slow, extremely evil grin spreading across his pale face.
“Oh my!” he says, looking back down at the box like it’s something wonderful. “There are six flavours in here, look.”
He opens his mouth to start reading and Harry scrabbles for the box. “Shutup, shutup, shutup,” he hisses frantically.
“Strawberry, blueberry, banana,” he starts, pressing a hand into Harry's face and pushing him away. “Chocolate, oh, Harry, chocolate! Vanilla, mint-- oh wow, mint!” He laughs, turning to avoid Harry's continued efforts to prise the box out of his grip, so his shoulder bumps into Harry’s chest as he possessively cradles the box.
A young girl, probably still in her late teens, brushes past, giving them both a ‘look’, her dark, kohl rimmed eyes half-lidded and bored.
“We’re browsing through condoms!” Malfoy waves the box at her and Harry swears under his breath.
“Stop it." Harry manages to pull the box away and drags him away, Malfoy complaining loudly.
“Here I am trying to embrace some Muggle stuff--” he whines and Harry rounds on him.
“Stop saying ‘Muggle’." He looks around furtively.
“What, Muggles don’t know what ‘Muggle’ means,” Malfoy says exasperatedly.
“Babe,” Harry groans, turning away to quickly scan the pain sprays again, the sooner to get out.
“Fine, fine.” Malfoy rolls his eyes and holds up his free hand and Harry, after a long, suspicious glare, releases his other hand.
“Do you want any--” Malfoy pauses at the opposite shelf, squinting at the label. “Para-...paracetamol.”
Harry snorts. “No, love, I don’t.”
He’s just pulled down a bottle that he thinks looks similar to what Hermione had bought him last time, when—
“Oh, pineapple condoms, how exotic!”
There’s the loud crash of several bottles hitting the floor and Harry turns, horrified, to find the dimpled lady standing amidst several fallen shampoo bottles and Malfoy, back near the condoms.
“And these are lubricated!” He turns laughingly to Harry, still rooted to the spot. “Baby, these are lubricated! How convenient!”
Harry squeezes his eyes shut. Malfoy never calls him that, and Harry knows he’s only doing it to further mortify that poor lady who’s now scrambling around, picking up the shampoo bottles.
When he opens his eyes again, Malfoy is walking determinedly towards him, grinning, carrying an armful of condoms, the boxes nearly spilling over each other.
“This ought to last us a few days,” he says cheerfully as he walks past the lady, who presses back into the shelves, looking nearly faint. “Unless you think we’ll need more? It’s the weekend, after all, I know how you get when we’re home with nothing else to do.” He walks right up to Harry and places a very wet kiss on his slightly open mouth, laughing quietly under his breath.
To Harry’s utter horror, his cock twitches, even whilst his completely evil husband snorts quietly, shaking with mirth. “Is she still looking here?” Malfoy wheezes softly.
“You’re just...” Harry struggles for words. “Go put those back, you wanker!”
“No, we’re getting these,” Malfoy says very seriously. “Did you find what you were looking for?”
“I think it was this one,” Harry mumbles, shuffling to one side as the poor, horrified lady walks by, head held up dignifiedly, her cheeks still flaming. “Hehehe,” he chuckles awkwardly in her direction, scratching the back of his head.
“Great, let’s go, I want to get started on these,” Malfoy says loudly to the retreating back of the woman who was probably praying for his wretched soul.
“Draco, put them back,” Harry finally hisses fiercely as the woman disappears, reaching for a few boxes off the top of the pile. Malfoy immediately backs away.
“I want to see if your cock really will taste like strawberries,” he says loudly, just as the young girl reappears from the other end, stopping dead in her tracks for a few seconds, having clearly heard Malfoy.
Harry wishes he could just Disapparate and leave this wicked, gorgeous, blond idiot to deal with the whole Statute of Secrecy mess that would thereon unfold.
“I’m going to kill you,” he mutters under his breath, as the girl cautiously approaches them again, her gaze firmly locked on her feet.
“You think my arse will taste like strawberries if you fucked me while wearing one of these?” Malfoy asks, looking genuinely curious. Harry emits a strangled sound, grabbing the nearest pain relieving spray, and then Malfoy’s arm, and dragging him to the front of the store.
“I’m going to kill you,” he repeats in a growl.
“By fucking me that hard?” Malfoy asks hopefully.
“No!” Harry hisses, pausing abruptly in his steps as their mortified audience from earlier and he almost collide. The lady backs away, immediately dropping her gaze. “Go on,” Harry says hopefully, nodding towards the aggravatingly impassive toad-woman behind the cash register.
The woman shakes her head, crab-walking away, clutching at her cough syrup. Harry sighs and steps forward, placing the spray bottle rather forcefully before the toad.
“Don’t forget these,” Draco gushes, stepping forward and dumping at least thirty boxes of condoms before her.
The toad looks down at the pile before her, and then looks at Harry with her mouth slightly open, her brown eyes widening even further.
“That’s all,” Harry says weakly, pulling out his wallet. The lady turns her gaze to Draco, who immediately steps up and wraps himself around Harry, pushing one hand into Harry’s back pocket, slipping the other hand under Harry’s t-shirt, his front pressed firmly along Harry's side.
“You excited, baby?” he coos, nibbling at Harry’s earlobe, teeth grazing the dangling fang earring. “You want some of that energy boosting stuff you take before your matches?” Harry’s knees almost buckle.
“H-How much?” he sputters. But the woman is now openly staring, her eyes popping, at Draco, who is now, Merlin in hell, running his tongue along Harry’s tightly clenched jaw, running his hand slowly up his tightly toned stomach.
“Here, just keep this.” Harry throws down several Muggle bills on the counter before grabbing one of the paper bags near the register and sweeping his own lone purchase, and Malfoy’s pile of little boxes into it with one arm. “Let’s go,” he growls roughly, grabbing Malfoy’s hand and tugging him out.
“I say, I’m going to be walking funny for days!” Draco squeals happily over his shoulder and Harry hears the crash of a glass bottle (he’s pretty sure it’s cough syrup) hitting the floor.
They Apparate into their living room and Draco collapses onto the sofa, laughing so hard that there’s no sound coming out of him. He’s just bent over double, tears falling down his cheeks, eyes barely open, a faint rattling wheeze sounding from his laughing mouth.
“Their- faces-” he chokes out, thumping a fist on the armrest.
Harry just stands there clutching the brown paper bag, swallowing hard at the laughter bubbling up from his belly, his cock half hard from Malfoy’s warm, teasing touch earlier.
“I literally don’t know what to do with you anymore,” he says, voice shaking, face finally splitting into a wide grin.
“Don’t you though?” Malfoy sits up, wipes his eyes, and shrugs out of his jacket while toeing off his shoes. Still grinning, he pulls off his t-shirt too, Harry inhaling sharply as all that ivory skin is revealed. He watches as Malfoy slowly unbuttons his jeans, now smirking slyly at Harry, and lifts his bubble-bum off the sofa, easing the denims down and off along with his socks before finally just sitting, sprawled out gracefully, in his tiny, tight black pants with a very noticeable bulge in it, his limbs long and elegant, his skin spotless and nearly luminous.
Harry lets out a whoosh of air, his cock twitching again. Malfoy bites his lip and slowly stands up, sauntering over to Harry and pressing into him, a weird gurgle escaping Harry when their cocks brush together.
Suddenly Malfoy grabs the paper bag from Harry, and with a peal of delighted laughter, bounds away into their bedroom.
“Come on, I want to try at least one of each flavour tonight!”
Shaking his head, Harry follows him, taking off his own black leather jacket on the way. In the bedroom, Malfoy has ripped open three different boxes, and gestures imperiously for Harry to get on the bed with him.
“Going to suck on your giant--” He rifles around inside a box with his eyes closed, and then pulls out a condom. “Blueberry cock!” he announces brightly, and Harry snorts loudly, pulling his t-shirt off, catching the magazine that falls out and throwing it aside, before crawling onto the bed on his knees, lazily undoing his flies, watching as Malfoy rips open the foil and stares closely at the ring of latex.
“So, how does this work?” Malfoy asks vaguely, picking up the box to check for instructions. “’Use a new condom for every--’ well, of course I’m going to use new one each time, I’m going to use as many as I can,” he mutters to himself as Harry eases himself back onto the pillows and watches him in amusement, his fingers laced behind his head.
“You’re adorable,” he says to Malfoy who looks up at once. “And utterly infuriating.”
Malfoy grins. “I thought that’s why you married me.”
“It is.” Harry nods. “Plus, your arse is extraordinary. Unparalleled, really.” Malfoy winks at him and bites his lip, dipping his back so his bum pokes out invitingly.
“I’m going to--” He checks the box again, while Harry mentally peels off his underwear. “’Roll this on carefully’--” He reads, “--and then suck your soul out your cock, Potter,” he declares firmly.
Harry groans, throwing an arm over his eyes as Malfoy straddles his thighs with an excited grin, tugging Harry’s jeans halfway down, before rolling down his pants as well, Harry’s cock bouncing out eagerly to slap against his tanned belly.
“Oh, look, you’re all ready,” Malfoy comments happily, before leaning forward. “Wait, this doesn’t have a hole.” He pauses, holding the condom right in front of his nose, eyes crossing as he peers closely.
“You should call the manufacturers and leave that as feedback, it’d make their day,” Harry says, his voice rough, staring fixedly at the bulge in Malfoy’s snug black underpants. “Take your pants off and come sit on my face.”
“Wait.” Malfoy rolls his eyes, and jumps off the bed, returning with his wand. “I’m going to make a hole in it.”
“Why the hell, you weirdo?” Harry laughs despite himself.
“How else am I supposed to swallow?” Malfoy asks flatly and Harry chokes shut on his laugh.
“It might tear as you roll it on if you make a hole first,” Harry says weakly.
“No, I’ll charm it to hold.” Malfoy frowns in concentration, holding the tip of his wand pressed to the centre of the ring. Then he makes a satisfied sound, and straddles Harry’s thighs once more. “Hold your cock for me,” he says casually and Harry squeezes the base at once, holding his thick, leaking cock upright.
He watches as the tip of Malfoy’s pink tongue peeks out as with great care, and surprising dexterity for his first attempt, he successfully rolls the condom onto Harry's cock.
“Well, there you—oh fuck!” Harry bucks off the mattress as without preamble, Malfoy swallows his cock, sucking hard, immediately letting out a long, satisfied moan around it. He presses his nose into the curls around his cock and then slowly pulls back up.
“Oh, that’s not half bad,” he sucks off to say thoughtfully, before diving back down, bobbing his blond head enthusiastically, tonguing Harry’s slit through the little hole he’d made, mouth stretched obscenely wide around his cock, lips steadily reddening by the second.
Harry clutches at the sheets, bucking up violently, Malfoy not minding in the slightest as he fucks his throat in huge, blunt thrusts.
“Stop, oh lord!” Harry cries. “Christ, baby, I’m nearly there--”
“So come,” Malfoy says simply, before taking him down to the hilt once more, gently playing with Harry’s bollocks with one hand. Harry moans, winding his fingers in the fine, blond hair and fucking up desperately, whimpering with his head thrown back.
He comes in warm spurts, Malfoy growling as he sucks hungrily, pulling on the tip with his mouth, making little irritated sounds as some of the come remains inside the condom. “Fuck this shit.” He rips off the sopping wet rubber and licks clean Harry’s half-hard cock, rubbing his hands warmly over Harry’s trembling thighs.
Then, all businesslike, he sits up, takes off his pants and grabs the box of condoms again, licking and smacking his lips contently, his erect cock bobbing in front of him. “Mmm, blueberry.” He grins, eyes twinkling mischievously at Harry lying there, panting as he recovers.
Harry lunges forward and grabs him, rolling them over so he’s got Malfoy pinned, and then kissing him breathless. “Oh, yeah, blueberry.” Harry pulls back, surprised, and Malfoy laughs.
“Here, put this on.” He hands Harry another condom. “And fuck me.”
“Strawberry,” Harry reads aloud, and then pulls out the condom, shaking his head with a grin. “You’re going to want to know if your arse really does taste like strawberries afterwards, aren’t you?”
“Aren’t you going to want to lick my arse afterwards?” Malfoy asks innocently, slowly turning over and coming onto hands and knees, spreading his knees wide, smouldering back at him over his shoulder. Harry licks his lips, swallowing hard, eyes fixed on the dusky pink hole gulping softly at him. His cock twitches against his thigh, starting to rise again.
“Fucking evil git,” he mutters, his hands shaking as he fumbles with the condom. “Evil, wicked bastard.”
“You know it.”
Harry manages to roll it on without tearing it, gritting his teeth in concentration, and then reaches for the lube.
“That lube is flavoured, Potter,” Malfoy drawls. “It’s coconut. Don’t mix the two – for now,” he adds with a smirk.
Harry frowns. “I’m not taking you dry.”
“Have your salivary glands dried up?” Malfoy asks, rolling his eyes. “I usually have to force your tongue out of my arse, Potter. What happened? Oh, shit!” He shudders as Harry pounces, pushing his tongue into Malfoy’s waiting arsehole, steadily opening him up. Malfoy moans, fucking himself onto Harry’s stiff tongue, their rhythmic forward and backward thrusts synched perfectly.
Harry spits noisily, and then pushes it in with his tongue, much to Malfoy’s loud approval. His fingers dig into the soft, fleshy arse that fills his hands and he laves thoroughly, Malfoy’s arsehole loose and dripping within minutes.
And then Malfoy is whimpering that he’s ready and to just get on with it before he comes from just this. Harry chuckles darkly into him before rising, lining his latex covered cock up and pushing into Malfoy in one fluid thrust. Malfoy arches, moaning loudly, his arse clenched fiercely around Harry.
Harry waits, panting as he presses kisses over Malfoy’s back, licking over his sides.
“Come on.” Malfoy pushes back, hands pressed into the mattress. “Hard and fast, Potter, none of your sappy groping and lingering lovemaking tonight, please.”
Harry rolls his eyes, pulls out and then begins pounding into Malfoy, earning a shrill, garbled groan and several choice insults. Malfoy’s head hangs between his shoulders, his hair falling onto his sweaty face as he rams himself back onto Harry’s cock, shameless filth tumbling over his lips, nonstop.
“Yes, like that, Potter, fucking take me,” he pants. “Oh, you’re a brilliant fuck, Harry Potter; you know how to drill me open just right! That’s it, harder, like you’re trying to fuck open my throat from back there – Merlin--”
“God, please, shut up!” Harry groans, his fingers tightening on Malfoy’s constantly moving hips. “You’re a filthy little--”
“Whore, yes, I’m your filthy little whore, nothing but a hole to fuck, so do it – oh, god, yes! Right there, again! Fuck me open – deeper... deeper, so your come takes ages to come back out--”
“Draco,” Harry moans. “Oh, lord.”
“Harry,” Draco whimpers. And comes.
He comes for several seconds, never ceasing to buck backwards, convulsing and crying out with each of Harry’s continued thrusts, his damp, red cock shooting out rope after rope.
“God.” He trembles, his arms collapsing, pressing his face into the pillows. Then, “Come inside me, Harry, take that thing off.”
Harry curses, pulling out at once, tearing off the condom with a hiss and shoving back into Malfoy, coming violently after just two more strokes, Draco moaning right along with him, shiny come leaking out of him as Harry’s thrusts get rougher.
“Don’t get comfortable,” Draco says in snide breathlessness as Harry falls forward onto him, panting and gasping. “You have some research to do.”
Harry snorts, and after a few seconds, straightens up and gently pulls out of him, his hands immediately coming up to tenderly knead the round, white arse, pulling it open to reveal the rosy, leaking hole in between.
“Christ,” Harry murmurs, leaning forward to lap eagerly, pushing his tongue inside and curling it, drawing out more come, licking the tight inner walls.
“Well?” Malfoy wiggles his arse impatiently, and Harry immediately grabs him to keep him in place. “What do I taste like?”
“Heaven,” Harry replies shortly, pulling his tongue out to repeatedly lick wetly along the crack, fuzzy balls to the soft dip of his tailbone. Malfoy clicks his tongue impatiently.
“Harry,” he whines, immediately closing onto Harry’s tongue when it returns to prod inside him. “Strawberries?”
“Sure,” Harry says vaguely, pushing two fingers into him and pulling his hole open downwards, filling him with his tongue. Malfoy cries out, leaning into it involuntarily.
“You’re not even trying to check if I really do taste like strawberries!” he complains grumpily.
“Who gives a fuck,” Harry growls, prising his arse open wider. “You taste better than strawberries.”
Giving up, Malfoy simply sags morosely into the mattress, burying his face back into the pillows and sighing resignedly, shivering under Harry's increasingly hungry mouth, until--
“Let’s try a few more,” Harry says suddenly, and Malfoy grins.
“Well, if that’s what you want...”