Harry was starting to sweat. He could feel it gathering at the base of his spine and soon enough it would pool together and drip down his crack, where it would meet his open hole. His hole that was currently stuffed with a carrot.
Harry knew it was a stupid idea. He really hadn’t planned on it; he’d never been one of those people that got off on the idea of things going where they didn’t belong. It was just a product of circumstance.
It’d been a lazy Saturday afternoon when the urge struck him. His lone vibrator had broken last week and he hadn’t gotten around to replacing it, but he figured he could make do. One thing led to another, and Harry decided to stick a carrot in his arse. All things considered, it was actually a pretty good dildo.
Until it got stuck.
With no base for Harry to hang onto, the carrot had slipped fully inside. He’d tried to pull it out, but it was too slippery. He’d tried to bear down, but it hardly moved. So he did the only logical thing he could with a carrot playing hide and seek in his bum—He’d accio ’ d it. It was only after the carrot had lodged itself even further inside of him that Harry remembered why you shouldn’t wandlessly accio things.
So now here Harry was, naked, with a carrot shoved so far up he could taste it, and sweating like a Hippogriff in heat. The once pleasurable pressure of the carrot was rapidly morphing into overwhelming and Harry was running out of options.
At this point, he had two options: die from a carrot in his arse or go to St. Mungo’s. Harry weighed the pros and cons of each and decided that his corpse being found with a carrot inside was probably more humiliating than going to Mungo’s. At least Hermione would be working.
With careful movements, Harry crawled off the bed, groaning as the carrot pressed just the right way. His long-deflated cock twitched in interest. Harry tried to ignore it as he threw on the only casual set of robes he owned.
He grabbed his wand off the bedside table and hobbled to the fireplace. Harry said a silent prayer that the Floo wouldn’t rattle him too much as he grunted out his destination.
The waiting room of St. Mungo’s had only a handful of people in it, so he was able to make it to the front desk without too many eyes on him. Harry recognized the nurse on duty and he smiled as he approached.
“Well, hello, Mr. Potter,” Nurse Edgars greeted him. “How can I help you?”
“Hello,” he replied, trying his hardest to pretend like his voice didn’t sound like a broken violin string. “Would it be possible for me to speak with Healer Granger?”
Nurse Edgars looked at him over the tops of his glasses. “And would this be a personal or a medical visit?”
“Personal,” Harry squeaked.
Nurse Edgars looked unimpressed as he took in the sheen of sweat on Harry’s skin and the tightness of his body. “Mr. Potter, you know perfectly well that Healer Granger cannot attend to you for any medical emergencies, which is something you clearly seem to be having.”
“But it’s not an emergency,” Harry argued. “It’s just a bit of a situation.”
“The urgency of the situation is irrelevant. Healer Granger cannot treat you, you know that.”
Harry decided arguing wouldn’t get him anywhere, so he gave the nurse his most winsome smile. “Couldn’t you make an exception, just this once? It’s a bit of a delicate situation, and I’d prefer not to discuss it with a complete stranger.”
Nurse Edgars must have taken pity on him then, because the stern look slid off and his face softened into concern. “Alright, Mr. Potter, I’ll see what I can do.”
Harry could have leaped over the counter and kissed him if it hadn’t been for the carrot in his bum. “Thank you so much, Nurse Edgars. Truly.”
Nurse Edgars gave him a shy smile. “Go ahead down the hall and wait in the exam room 3.” He jerked his thumb behind him.
Harry walked down the hall with minimal discomfort and slipped inside the exam room. He looked at the waiting examination table and thought better of trying to sit down. Instead, he busied himself opening and shutting drawers. The door opened just as Harry was pressing down his tongue with wooden depressor.
“Didn’t anyone ever tell you not put foreign objects in your mouth?”
“Merlin, am I going to have to treat you for two injuries?” Draco Malfoy strode over and clapped Harry on the back as he fell into a fit of coughing. The attack caused his stomach to clench and the carrot inside of him to shift, pressing into his prostate. Harry doubled over with a moan that was lost in his coughs.
“Put your hands above your head,” he instructed, pulling Harry up by his arms. Harry sputtered out a few more coughs before Draco let him go. “Better?”
Harry nodded wordlessly and Draco moved away. “What are you doing here?” Harry croaked out.
“That’s usually my line,” Draco replied, picking up the file that had appeared in the outpatient box. “Nurse Edgars said you wanted to see me, but wouldn’t tell me why. Only the Saviour…” he muttered the last part under his breath.
“I did not . I said I wanted-” Harry stopped as he remembered his early words. “Fuck.” Draco raised an eyebrow at him. “I said I wanted someone I knew.”
“And so now that we’ve solved that mystery, do you think you could tell me why you’re here?”
Harry shook his head. “No, no, no. I need a new Healer.”
Draco shrugged and pushed himself off the counter he’d been leaning against. “Suit yourself, but seeing as you won’t tell us what is wrong with you, you’re a low priority. It’ll probably be another four to five hours before anyone else can see you.” Draco opened the door. “Have a nice day, Potter.”
“Wait!” Harry called. Draco turned his head to look at Harry, but stayed in the doorway. “Okay, I’ll let you treat me.”
“Wow, what an honour.” Harry couldn’t see Draco’s face as he stepped back into the room, but he knew he was rolling his eyes.
“Well, I’m sorry if I’m not exactly keen on my schoolboy rival giving me medical attention,” Harry snapped.
Draco quirked his mouth to the side. “I suppose that’s acceptable.”
Draco turned away and started gathering things from the drawers Harry had been snooping through. “Go ahead and get on the table.”
Harry gave the table a pained look and closed his eyes. “I can’t.”
He heard Draco turn around but didn’t dare open his eyes. “What do you mean?”
Harry huffed out a breath. “I can’t sit.”
“You can’t sit…” Draco trailed off and then everything must have clicked into place, because he said, “Oh, Potter, you didn’t?”
At that Harry opened his eyes and instead of finding Draco looking at him with ridicule, there was a heat there that Harry couldn’t quite place.
“What is it? Is it a toy?”
Harry shook his head and whispered, “A carrot.”
“Potter.” It was breathy and not at all the reaction Harry had expected.
“Er, what’s up, Doc?” Harry tried.
Draco furrowed his brows and cleared his throat before speaking. “How long has it been stuck?”
Harry was slow with his answer, too busy trying to figure out why Draco was looking at him like that . “Maybe half an hour before I came here.”
Draco nodded and wrote something down on the chart. “Did you attempt to get it out?”
Harry snorted. “Of course I tried to get it out. I even tried to Accio it, but that just-”
“Made it worse,” Draco supplied, seeming to once again be on solid footing. Harry nodded. “You’re not the first person to try and you certainly won’t be the last.”
Harry watched Draco carefully as he made notes on the chart. If Harry didn’t know any better he’d almost say Draco had been flustered because he’d liked the idea of Harry sticking a carrot up his arse.
“Can you lay down for me?”
The question pulled Harry back to the moment. Draco was looking at him with a blank face, but there was a spark in his eyes that made Harry say, “How do you want me?”
There was a slight twitch of Draco’s mouth, and Harry began to catalog evidence to his earlier theory. “On your back, but you’ll have to take off your robes.” As Draco spoke, he pulled the metal stirrups out of the exam table.
“Don’t I get a hospital gown?” Harry asked.
“There’s literally one on the bed. That desperate to get naked for me, Potter?”
“Whatever Malfoy,” Harry said, pulling off his robes. He didn’t miss the longer-than medically necessary glance that Draco gave to his half-hard cock.
When Harry didn’t move, Draco raised a brow in the direction of the robe on the bed. “What happened to protecting your modesty?”
Harry shrugged. “Hard to be modest with a guy who’s about to stick a finger in my arse.”
“More likely two. Maybe even a speculum, if you’re lucky.” Draco winked.
It was meant to be teasing, but that didn’t stop Harry’s cock from jumping at the words. Even as a blush spread across Harry’s chest, he looked Draco in the eye and eased himself on the exam table.
Draco didn’t look away as he stepped forward. “I’m going to help position you,” Draco said, taking Harry’s legs and stepping between them.
“Whatever you need,” Harry offered with an easy smile.
Draco raised a brow at him but said nothing as he placed Harry’s calves in the stirrups. He grabbed Harry’s thighs and pulled him forward. Harry let out an unintended groan at the sight of Draco Malfoy urging Harry’s arse towards his groin.
“Alright?” Draco murmured.
“Fine,” Harry replied in a strangled voice he hoped would be taken for discomfort instead of arousal.
Draco stepped back and held out a hand for a moment before a pair of rubber gloves flew into them. “So, first I’m going to examine you, and determine if the object can be removed by hand. I’ll use my fingers first, as I said, and possibly a few tools. If I can’t grab onto it, I can try a stretching charm or we can prep you for surgery.” Draco punctuated this statement with a snap of his rubber gloves.
“Surgery?” Harry repeated.
“Worst case scenario,” Draco answered, pulling over a rolling stool. “Don’t worry Potter, I’m very good with my hands.” He gave Harry a wildly unprofessional smirk and eased further between his legs.
Harry let out a gasp with he felt Draco’s gloved hands pulling at his cheeks. “Relax,” Draco instructed before turning his attention to Harry’s delicate situation.
Harry could feel his arsehole fluttering under the attention, begging for Draco to touch it. Harry covered his eyes and tried to pretend like he was anywhere else.
“Alright, you’re going to feel my finger now.” Even with the warning, Harry jerked at the touch of the digit. “Oh, sorry it’s cold.”
“No fucking shit, Malfoy,” Harry hissed, raising his head to glare at Draco.
Draco chuckled and shot him a playful look. “Are you going to relax now?”
Harry dropped his head back onto the table. “Yeah, yeah.”
“Okay, you’re going to feel my finger.” This time when the finger touched him it was warm. Harry didn’t flinch and Draco hummed in approval. “Alright, I’m going to insert it now, tell me if there is any discomfort beyond normal.” Draco’s finger slid into Harry’s channel without any resistance.
“Is that alright?”
“Yeah, fine,” Harry breathed, his cock suddenly standing at full attention.
“I’m going to check for tears in your walls now, so you’re going to feel me moving around. Tell me if you feel a stinging or burning sensation or if something is abnormally painful.”
Harry nodded, not trusting himself to speak. He was trying really hard to focus on the blankness of the ceiling and not the fact that Draco Malfoy clinically detailing what he was going to do to Harry was such a turn-on.
The drag of Draco’s finger inside of him had Harry biting his lip to suppress a moan.
“You’re clenching. Are you in pain?” Draco asked. When Harry shook his head no he said, “Then you need to relax.”
“It’s a little hard to relax with some guys finger up your bum,” Harry ground out.
“And yet you managed to get a carrot up there, so I don’t think my finger is that much of a stretch.”
Harry whipped his head up so fast his neck cracked. “Did you just?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Draco said to Harry’s hole. “Now, as far as I can tell, your walls are intact. I’m going to check the position of the object so you’re going to feel some pressure.”
With that Draco pressed his finger in further, pressing down on the carrot and causing Harry to gasp in pleasure. Draco quickly withdrew his finger and Harry shuddered at the loss and then immediately felt his skin heat in humiliation.
“Potter,” Draco said, and the breathy quality was back in his voice, making Harry’s head spin. “Potter, I need you to look at me.”
“Why?” Harry groaned.
“Potter, look at me, this is serious.” Draco’s voice was firm and Harry sat up with reluctance.
“What is it?”
“I can pull it out myself, but there’s a bit of a complication,” Draco said with a pointed look at Harry’s erection.
Draco sighed. “I mean that I can’t pull it out while you’re erect. You keep tensing up and if I try, I could end up tearing your anal walls.”
Harry shivered at the thought. “So you need me to…?”
“Orgasm,” Draco finished.
“You’re serious?” Harry asked.
“Why would I lie?”
Harry didn’t have anything to say to that, so instead, he said. “So, should I just…you know and then call you back in, or...”
“Actually,” Draco said, looking Harry in the eye. “It would be better if I did it.”
“What?” Harry asked dumbly.
“It’ll be easiest for me to pull it out when you reach orgasm, as you’ll be more relaxed,” Draco explained.
“This is not happening,” Harry whispered.
“Look, I can go get another Healer if you’re not comfortable, but I promise they will tell you the same thing.”
“No,” Harry said a bit too quickly. “I mean, no, it’s okay. You’re good.”
“I’m good?” Draco repeated.
“I mean, I want you to do it.”
“You do?” Draco smirked.
Harry threw his head back on to the table with an audible thud. “Fuck, Malfoy!”
“Not exactly what we’re about to do, but I wouldn’t be opposed.” Harry peered down at Draco and found him grinning. “Though usually, I do require dinner first. Or at least a whole salad.”
“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” Harry accused.
“It has been the highlight of my career.”
“How exactly would this work?”
“Well,” Draco began, “Have you ever had a prostate massage?” Harry shook his head. “Shame. Basically, I’ll stimulate your prostate until you climax.”
It really wasn’t a statement to get worked up over. Nothing about this was sexy, and yet, Harry was sure he could almost come from hearing that.
“Is that going to be alright?” Draco asked knowingly.
“Yeah, it’s fine, go ahead.”
Draco nodded. “You’re going to feel my finger now.” Draco’s finger pushed into Harry, slipping in between the carrot with ease. He began to search for Harry’s prostate with careful movements. When Harry let out a little gasp, Draco knew he’d found the right spot. “So, I’m going to keep pressure on this until you orgasm.”
Draco pressed down on the spot and began to move his finger in circles. “I’m going to start off easy, and then increase the pressure.”
Harry couldn’t speak. He had never experienced pleasure like this, so acute it was almost sharp. Harry didn’t know if he wanted to pull away or press down and beg Draco for more. He shimmied his hips in an effort to either relieve the pressure, or make it stop.
“There you go,” Draco’s voice was soothing. “Give into it.” Harry bit his lip to stifle a moan. “Don’t. Don’t tense up.”
Draco’s finger began to move faster and Harry was now openly thrashing his hips, silently pleading for more. He was so close; if Draco just gave him a bit more…
“Almost there, aren’t you?” Draco pressed a little harder. “Go ahead, you can let go.” Harry felt his orgasm burst behind his eyes as his body shook. He heard Draco’s telling him something but it was very far away and there was the distinct feeling of being empty.
When the world finally came back into focus Draco was standing over him. “How are you feeling?”
“Good. Great. Like I don’t have a carrot stuck in my arse,” Harry replied.
Draco let out a soft laugh at that. “You’re welcome. Maybe next time you want to stick a vegetable up your arse, try a toy.”
“I didn’t have a toy,” Harry explained.
“Have you heard of a cock?” Draco asked moving away. “I hear they’re pretty great.”
“Yeah, I’ll have to look into that,” Harry replied watching Draco write something down on his chart.
“So, you’re all set. Just check in with the desk and they’ll give you a nourishing potion. Come back if you find any blood in your stool or experience any sharp pains.” Draco tossed the chart into the file holder and it disappeared. “You can get dressed now, too,” He said as he headed for the door.
“Hey, Malfoy?” Draco turned and waited. “What are you doing for dinner?”
Draco smirked. “I get off at seven. Wear something nice.” He left before Harry could say anything else. Harry shook his head at the closed door, but he couldn’t help the stupid grin that had tattooed itself on his face.
And if Nurse Edgar’s noticed a little extra pep in Harry’s step when he walked to the Floo, he certainly wasn’t going to say anything.