The first thing Harry heard when he walked into the pub was Draco Malfoy’s obnoxious voice. The first thing Harry thought upon hearing said voice was that he should turn around and find another place to drink tonight. However, he paused his backward step when he realized Malfoy was quite sloshed and seemed to be talking to himself mostly. Even as the bartender pretended to listen for a moment, Malfoy kept chatting when the man had to walk away to take another order.
Maybe this would be fun, a slightly nervous Harry thought, and sat on the barstool next to Malfoy.
The other didn’t seem to notice Harry for a moment, which gave him time to ponder his and Malfoy’s recent relationship. No, they didn’t hate each other anymore, but Harry was still wary of the wizard. Especially since Harry had turned into everything Malfoy liked to make fun at even more since they’d left school. Harry worked with his hands, slept on a futon in front of his TV, and ate greasy muggle food for enjoyment.
Harry had been avoiding the fit blond tosser ever since he’d quit Auror training to become a woodworker. Now that Harry had gained so much weight, he practically ran from the vicinity any time he heard Malfoy’s voice. However, Harry couldn’t keep his interest of the other at bay, despite his own cowardly avoidance. Any time Draco was in the paper Harry read the articles. Harry had been surprised to find out that Malfoy was gay and open about it. The press had gotten many photos of him and his lover, who looked to be bigger than Harry, which was hard when Harry weighed 20 stone these days. Perhaps this knowledge was what allowed Harry to approach Malfoy tonight. Harry felt the need to know if Malfoy had somehow been taking the piss with his lover or if he truly liked the large man.
“Potter!” Malfoy startled him from his thoughts. “You absolute tosser! How dare you sneak up on me.”
“Sorry,” Harry mumbled. God, what was wrong with him? He usually had no problem loving himself and not caring what anyone else thought. Why did he have to be so self-conscious around Malfoy of all people? So what if Malfoy was tiny, blond, and everything else Harry was attracted to? He was still a dick that Harry had no business caring about.
“As you should be!” Malfoy spat. “Men like you are all dicks! Think you can walk all over guys like me!”
“You heard me, Potty!” Malfoy said. “You handsome manly men, you think you can push me around. Well, I won’t have it!”
“Excuse me?!” Harry squeaked.
“Just cause you can grow hair on your chest and gain a little weight doesn’t give you the right to rule my life!”
Harry had a feeling Malfoy wasn’t talking about Harry anymore. So, he kept quiet and listened as Malfoy continued his ranting.
“When really,” Malfoy paused as he realized he still had an untouched shot in his hand. After downing the liquor in one swig, he continued. “When really you’re just insecure little boys who can’t handle someone like me! Well, I won’t have it, I tell you. You don’t put your sausage fingers on me unless it’s to stretch out my tight bum!”
Harry choked on his own spit and waved the bartender over. Harry ordered a beer. He’d wanted something a little stronger tonight, but had a feeling he was going to end up carrying Malfoy out of there.
“Insecure. Little. Boys,” Malfoy hissed, pointing accusingly at Harry’s face. “I’m not a cheat, Potter. I might cheat a little when it comes to Quidditch, but I don’t fuck around on my men!”
“Did I say that?”
“I never said you did,” Malfoy spat. “He did though. Told me I was a slut. Nobody calls me a slut!”
Malfoy tried to order another drink but the bartender looked skeptical, so Harry spoke up.
“I’ll decide when he needs to stop,” Harry said. “After all, I’m gonna be the one responsible for him tonight. Bring him one more.”
Draco sputtered, but then seemed to realize agreeing would be the only way to acquire more liquor.
“Screw off, Potty,” Draco sneered when the bartender walked off to make his drink. “This is the shit I’m talking about. Just because I look like this doesn’t mean I need a man to run my fucking life. In case you haven’t noticed, I am a man, too!”
“Oh, I’ve noticed.”
“Well, good.” Malfoy turned up his cute, pointy nose. Malfoy then retired to the restroom and asked Harry to save his seat. Upon returning, Malfoy received his drink and decided to sip it slower this time, for which Harry was glad.
“I don't know, Potter,” Malfoy sighed. “I thought I'd found something real, you know? Something that worked for me, but it turned out to be huge mistake.”
“At least you had a chance at something real,” Harry said. “Every person I take home acts crazy about me then squeezes their eyes shut as soon as I take off my shirt.”
Yeah, wow, Harry couldn’t believe he’d just admitted that to Draco Malfoy of all people, but to Harry’s surprise Malfoy didn’t take the piss.
Malfoy stared at Harry rather seriously for being three sheets to the wind and drawled, “you avoid me. Don't think I haven't noticed.”
“I'm not now, am I?” Harry said, indignant.
“Why were you?” Malfoy’s thoughtful, little frown was cute. “I haven't said a mean thing to you since the war, Potter.”
Harry shrugged and said, “scared of you, I guess.”
Slowly, Draco smirked. “That makes me happy.”
“Of course it does,” Harry said.
“Don't get your man tits in a twist, Potter. I'm nice these days,” Malfoy said, and nudged Harry with his bony shoulder.
“I don't have boobs, Malfoy,” Harry said rather viciously. “In case you haven't noticed, I’m muscular under the fat. I'm lean in all the right places if you ask me.”
“Oh, I've noticed,” Malfoy threw Harry’s words back at him. “Too bad I like man boobs.”
“Yeah, I saw that. Thought it might be an elaborate prank,” Harry admitted.
“Why? Because I'm so fucking sexy? I couldn't possibly want a real man to fuck me?”
“I guess, yeah,” Harry shrugged. “Most fit people want someone as fit as they are.”
“Well, Potter, some people call it a fetish but I don't think about it as all that. I just like the big ones. Like you,” Malfoy gave him a coy glance. “Who would have thought your scrawny arse would have turned out so hot?”
Harry chuckled. “Most people would say I've let myself go.”
“Well, I say you’ve found yourself!” Malfoy smiled, then quickly frowned. “You know, my--well, now--ex-boyfriend, Patrick, had always been heavier. He had a hard time accepting my affection, and I tried so hard to put up with the constant reassurance, but it’s hard when he gets so angry at me for no reason. Are you like that, Potter?”
“Dunno. Haven’t been in a real relationship since Ginny and I spilt,” Harry said. “I don’t get possessive over one-night stands. Mostly they just go home with me because I’m famous, and I still have to get them pretty tipsy for even that much to happen. I don’t expect anything from them besides what they’re willing to give, which doesn’t go beyond a hole. Not going to lie and say some assurance and affection wouldn’t be nice sometimes though.”
“Potter . . . that’s . . .”
“Pathetic?” Harry chuckled darkly.
“No,” Draco said firmly. “Not pathetic. I just always thought you were so confident, even after you’d gained the weight. You never let what people say bother you.”
“I don't really. Just one time it would be nice to have someone want a repeat performance with me. It sucks knowing your partners find you so unattractive they have to be drunk to sleep with you, and, even then, only want a one off for five minutes of fame.”
“Is that what you're trying to do now, Potter?” Draco said slyly. “Because you don't have to buy me drinks to get me into bed with you. I would go sober and live between your sheets if you would let me.”
“You're just saying that because you're already drunk, Malfoy!”
“I didn't have to be drunk to be with Patrick, you know. I was sober when I met him and most of the time we fucked. The only reason I enjoyed drunken sex with him is because he would let himself enjoy it more. Sometimes he'd even take off his shirt.”
“He didn't get naked around you?”
“No,” Malfoy sighed sadly. “He said he knew that I liked him, but he never really believed me. If he did, he would have trusted me more.”
“I'm not like that,” Harry said firmly. “I don't hide who I am. Just wish more people could accept it. Even Ron and Hermione try to push me to change. Claim its for my health though.”
“So, if we did fuck, you would get naked? And let me touch you wherever I wanted without asking for permission?”
“Malfoy, if you wanted to fuck me, I’d let you strip me down and slather me in chocolate if it would make you happy enough to do it again.”
“Mmm, that sounds like fun, Potter.”
“Alright,” Harry sighed, waving the bartender over. “I think you’ve had enough. Time to get you home.”
Malfoy smirked at him as Harry paid Malfoy’s outrageous bar tab. Harry rolled his eyes and wrapped an arm around Malfoy’s waist to guide him outside.
“Alright, where to then, Malfoy?” Harry asked as he stopped them in front of his motorbike and began to strap his helmet on Malfoy’s head.
“Your place,” Malfoy said, and giggled.
“Seriously, Malfoy,” Harry huffed. “You’re on the rebound. It’s a bad idea, you’ll see that in the morning. I’m trying to do you a favor here. Just tell me your address.”
“Your place,” Malfoy repeated.
Harry only had so much willpower. Malfoy was everything Harry wanted in a sexual partner, and Malfoy claimed that Harry was everything he wanted -- well, minus the man tits. Harry would let him come over, and if Malfoy changed his mind, Harry could always sleep on the recliner and let Malfoy have his futon.
“Fine,” Harry said, and threw one leg over the large bike. “Hop on then.”
Malfoy hurried to straddle the bike and sat as close to Harry as possible, wrapping his thin arms around Harry’s large tummy.
Harry took off down the street. Malfoy’s startled shout quickly turned into surprised laughter when the bike suddenly lurched off the ground and began to fly. They made it to Harry’s flat in no time and Harry landed the bike on the roof. Once Malfoy hopped off, Harry did the same and slowly pushed the bike into the small shed he’d built for it up there.
Harry lived on the top floor, so they only had to walk down one flight of stairs and they were in Harry’s living area. Harry threw his jacket on the kitchen counter, walked over to the futon, and laid it down flat so it was wide enough to fit both of them. Harry sat down and tried not to let the rolls on his belly show now that he didn’t have a jacket to hide them.
Malfoy didn’t seem to notice Harry’s efforts and began to strip, making it into a show, and Harry couldn’t believe how lucky he was to be enjoying Malfoy’s body. The blond was all long, lanky limbs, and lean muscles. Malfoy’s belly was taut, his arse perfectly pert, and his cock thick and long. He was everything their society thought a man should look like to be attractive, and he was to Harry. He was fucking beautiful to Harry.
When Malfoy was fully nude, he fell to his knees in front of Harry and played with the hem of his shirt. He pushed Harry’s knees apart with his torso so he could lean in close enough to pull the material over Harry’s head. Harry shut his eyes and let it happen. Tossing the shirt aside, Malfoy pressed his nose into Harry’s belly and inhaled. He began to rub his face against Harry’s flesh.
“Fuck, Potter,” Malfoy growled. “You weren’t exaggerating, were you? You’ve got rock hard abs under those rolls.”
“Sorry,” Harry gasped. He was so close already, cock straining against his jeans trying to get closer to Malfoy’s skin.
“No,” Malfoy said. “It’s different than what I usually go for, but I think I like it. I bet you can fuck harder than all hell.”
“Yeah,” Harry mumbled, blushing. “Sometimes too hard.”
“No such thing,” Draco chuckled, then bent down to unlace Harry’s boots and pull them off. “Fuck, Potter!” Harry registered the outrage in Malfoy’s voice and opened his eyes in horror. “Warn a guy next time! Shit, your feet reek.”
Harry could only open and close his mouth like a fish while Malfoy glared up at him. Harry wanted to say something about how he didn’t go out looking to get laid tonight, and still had on the socks he’d worked all day in, but before he could manage to form a coherent sentence, Malfoy had summoned his wand and blasted Harry’s toes with a cleaning charm.
“Much better,” Malfoy purred, then asked rather seriously. “Socks off or on?”
“So strange,” Malfoy huffed. “I can’t sleep with them on. I get way too hot.”
Malfoy moved on to Harry’s jeans. Once those were off, Harry held his breath as Draco slowly brought the fabric of Harry’s pants over his aching cock. Harry didn’t realize he’d squeezed his eyes shut again until Draco spoke.
“Mmmm shit, Potter,” he said. “You’ve got a nice, big cock, don’t you?”
And that was when Harry realized this was all some big joke, and he’d foolishly let Malfoy have him on. After all, he’d seen Malfoy’s thick, seven maybe eight inch cock, and he’d seen his own. It was the skinniest, smallest thing on Harry’s whole body besides maybe his pinky finger.
“Screw off,” Harry said viciously, pushing Malfoy away. He didn’t mean to do it so hard, and cringed when he saw Malfoy’s back connect painfully with the coffee table behind him.
“Wait . . . wait, Potter!” Malfoy leapt on him before he could fully stand, and, surprised, Harry let himself be pushed back into the futon. “I’ve been with bigger men than you, remember? I know how it works.”
“What works?” Harry growled, which caused Malfoy to frown at him.
“If you’re heavier, your cock looks smaller,” Malfoy said as if Harry was slow. “If you’ve got a good five inches showing now, then it’ll feel like seven when you start fucking me, and nine by the time you come.”
“That’s not . . .” Harry trailed off, realizing that Malfoy was probably right. Most of Harry’s previous partners had looked at his cock with disappointment but were squealing by the time Harry was done with them. “Shit. I’m sorry, Malfoy. I didn’t mean to push you so hard.”
“I know,” Malfoy smiled. “As far as first times with me go, you’re doing quite well. I know I can be a little . . . much.”
Harry sucked in a big breath and decided to just go for it. He stood and kicked his boxers all the way off; his cock bobbing in front of Malfoy’s face with the movement. Harry gently stood Malfoy up and dragged their bodies together, relishing in the feel of Malfoy’s tiny body and sharp angles against his own pliant flesh. Harry brought their mouths together and Draco moaned so brokenly as their tongues touched.
After that, they were a blur of movement as they fell onto the futon grinding against each other. Harry whined like a puppy when Malfoy put his slender fingers on Harry’s arse cheeks and squeezed. He tried to flip Malfoy over to start opening him up, but the other wouldn’t have it. Instead he guided Harry’s hand between his legs and they stayed in missionary position as Harry fucked lube inside of him with two, then three, then four fingers.
“Merlin, Malfoy, how am I not breaking you?” Harry hissed, eyes flicking between the blissful expression on Draco’s face and his thin waist.
“Love bottoming, Potter,” Draco hissed. “Love getting stretched open.”
“You ready for my cock?”
Harry adjusted Draco’s legs so they were on his shoulders and lined himself up. He took a big breath before sliding balls deep in Draco’s wanton arse. Draco didn’t seem to be in pain, but he also didn’t seem capable of forming words. Harry just went for it like he normally did, and fucked Draco as hard and deep as he could. Draco’s moans steadily turned into screams, and when Harry grabbed onto his thin hips to keep him from sliding away, Draco’s climax startled Harry into his own.
The lithe body under him writhed as Malfoy’s untouched cock jumped and pearly liquid slicked the space between their bodies. Malfoy had a powerful come shot and Harry watched in awe as some of the white substance landed in Malfoy’s open mouth. Malfoy didn’t seem to notice; he was busy screaming as Harry rammed his own come as far as he could get it into Malfoy’s passage.
Harry did his usual maneuver, dropped Malfoy’s legs, and quickly rolled them so Harry was on his back and Malfoy could collapse on Harry’s large chest if he wanted. Malfoy did, he bent his legs up and squeezed them tightly around Harry’s waist then promptly fell asleep. Harry let Malfoy drift into a proper slumber before he gently rearranged the small body against his side instead.
Harry woke in the morning, a moan of pleasure escaping his throat even before he fully processed the sweet sensation of something wet and warm sliding along his cock.
A sloppy pop and, “you sleep like the dead,” Malfoy said, and then startled Harry by crawling up his body until Malfoy’s arse rested against Harry’s cock.
“Malfoy,” Harry started, “what are you--oh, dear Merlin.”
Malfoy had moved gracefully up and back down. In less than a second Harry’s prick was surround by the tight, hot grip of Malfoy’s slick passage. Harry mewled a horribly high-pitched sound and was quickly gasping for breath as Malfoy began to ride Harry in earnest. Malfoy guided Harry’s hands away from the crumpled sheets and placed them on narrow hips. Harry couldn’t help but squeeze as tight as he could, but luckily Malfoy seemed encouraged by Harry’s rough grip and started to bounce faster.
Malfoy’s hands were everywhere, undoing Harry far quicker than the feel of Malfoy’s tight passage. First Malfoy stroked Harry’s shoulders and neck. Then Malfoy flicked Harry’s nipples before taking a hand full of each peck and squeezing. Last he seemed content to put Harry to death by massaging long fingers into the fat and muscle of Harry’s belly. Malfoy finally relented, and Harry found he could open his eyes again. Although the sight that greeted him was so erotic he had to bite his own tongue to avoid both screaming and orgasming.
Malfoy’s head was thrown back. His long neck exposed. One hand travel up and down his own torso while the other pumped furiously at his own cock.
“Oh, yes, Potter!” Malfoy shouted as climax overcame him. This time, Malfoy’s powerful come shot hit Harry in the face. Harry licked his bottom lip and the taste of Malfoy’s load, along with his clenching hole, triggered Harry’s orgasm.
They rode out the wave of pleasure for what seemed like hours. When Malfoy finally collapsed on Harry’s chest, Harry quickly wrapped the small waist up in his arms. Harry couldn’t bare to let Malfoy go now that Harry had had him.
Malfoy sighed and whispered so softly in Harry’s ear that Harry had to ask him to repeat it.
“I said,” Malfoy started, “I lied.”
Harry froze, but didn’t push Malfoy away. Surely Malfoy wouldn’t fuck Harry twice as some kind of joke? Once maybe . . . but twice?
“About what?” Harry said dully.
“About being drunk last night,” Malfoy said as he sat up. Harry let him. “I mean, I was drunk when you first got there. Completely totalled actually, but when I realized that I might have a chance to come home with you . . . well, remember when I went to the bathroom?” Harry slowly nodded. “I took a sobriety potion.”
“Oh,” was all Harry could manage.
“I was going to tell you,” Malfoy said. “But I thought you might stay more relaxed if you thought I was still drunk.”
“Are you mad?” Malfoy asked.
“No,” Harry said, and he really wasn’t. He was a little confused and still trying to process the fact, but he wasn’t upset.
“So, you’ll want to do this again, maybe?” Malfoy asked. “Or, I don’t know? Dinner?”
“I’m going to the Weasley’s tonight,” Harry said.
“Right,” Malfoy said, and started to remove himself off Harry’s body. “Well, there’s seven days in a week, Potter--”
Harry grabbed Malfoy’s hips before he could get too far and made him sit back down on Harry’s groin. “That was an invitation . . . if you’re serious about this whole thing, that is.”
“Are you sure you want me there?” Draco looked anxious suddenly. “They don’t--”
“If you’re serious,” Harry repeated.
Draco nodded, his eyes excited, and a nervous smile curling his lips.