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Stamina Spells Pleasure

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“I’ll make it good,” Draco said. “I’ll make it so good for you.”

Harry had no doubt, as Draco’s hand was already cupping the front of Harry’s trousers, massaging slightly, and Draco's tongue was doing things in Harry’s mouth Harry had previously considered filthy.

“I’ll be perfect for you,” Draco said. “I’ll be so good.” Then he slid down to his knees and was opening Harry’s trousers, and Harry let him, let Draco press his face against Harry’s pants, Harry’s cock already hard and pressing against the cotton. Draco mouthed over it, desperate presses of his lips over the fabric while he worked Harry’s trousers down over Harry’s arse. Then Draco was licking it, tongue dampening the fabric as Draco nuzzled Harry’s cock.

Then at last, Harry’s trousers were down far enough. Draco rocked back on his heels, as though to assess a prize he had won, and hooked his fingers on the waistband of Harry’s pants. His eyes were huge, hopeful, flicking up to Harry and then back to the waiting cock, already wet at the tip and aching. At last, he popped Harry’s pants down, revealing Harry’s bare cock.

“Oh, Harry,” Draco breathed. “So big.”

Before Harry could respond to this, Draco darted in, his tongue giving the quickest of little kitten licks to the tip of the cock. As if satisfied by the taste, Draco moaned. “So good, Harry. I’ll make it so good for you; your cock is so good. Such a thick, perfect cock, I’ll make it feel so good. Let me make it feel so good for you.” Then he was pressing his face against it, mouthing down the length of it, his hand coming up to hold Harry’s bollocks and gently squeeze them—oh fuck—

Then Draco’s mouth was on him again, this time for real, warm wet heat so decadent and tight around Harry’s cock that Harry had to close his eyes. This was perfection; this was heaven, and then the mouth was tightening for him, sucking, pulling on it and off it with a perfect swirl of wet muscle at the end, Draco tongue. Then Draco was back on it, going down farther this time, farther, nudging the back of Draco’s throat—which could hurt him; Harry tried to keep his hips still—but it didn’t hurt him. Draco didn’t choke; he took it beautifully, the warm, wet sleeve of his throat wrapping silkily around Harry’s cock like Draco’s throat had been made for cock, starving for it. Harry wished he could touch it in Draco’s neck, feel the shape of his thick cock forcing Draco’s throat to open wide and fill his neck.

Then Draco slid it out, wet and good, sucking again once the cock was out of his throat and he could work the muscles there. He did it beautifully, like a fucking pro, and Harry felt his hips thrust, inadvertently. Draco popped off the cock.

“That’s it, Harry,” Draco rasped. “Fuck like you want to fuck. Fuck like I’m here to fuck, not for any other reason, like you need it. You need it, don’t you? You need a good fucking.”

“Jesus.” Harry’s hips jerked again. “Draco.”

“That’s my good boy.” Draco went down again, and Harry cried out—whether from the hotness of those words or the hotness of Draco’s mouth, Harry couldn’t tell. Draco popped off again. “That’s it, Harry. I’m going to take you in and I want you to use it. Use it, Harry. Just fuck it like hot, wet, pussy that really needs to be fucked.”

Harry’s hips thrust to the sound of those words, but Draco caught the cock with his mouth, swirling the head again with tongue, then taking it down again, all the way down. Harry was so afraid of hurting him, but Draco looked up at him, moaned, then began doing it himself, moving up and down on Harry’s cock, fucking his throat with it.

“Fuck,” Harry said. “You’re so good. You’re so good. You’re so—goddamn—good—” And he thrust inside Draco’s mouth; he couldn’t help it, and Draco moaned for it, eager on the floor like some kind of—well, like some kind of eager whore. “I’m going to,” Harry warned. “I’m gonna—I’m gonna—”

Draco pulled off again. “Do it down my throat, Harry. Give me what I need. Give it to me right in my mouth; get it all over me; I want it all over me—”

Then Harry was coming—all over Draco’s face, but then Draco was catching Harry’s cock in his mouth and Harry was coming on Draco’s tongue, and then Draco was holding him down and opening his throat once more so that the final, dry humps were into Draco’s neck, feeding it directly to him.

At last Draco pulled off, giving Harry’s little kisses along his cock, nestling his nose against the root of him and kissing Harry’s balls, licking at them as they gradually became too sensitive, and then he stopped. He lay the side of his face against Harry’s groin. “Told you I was good.”

“Yeah.” Harry put his hand in Draco’s hair. “Yeah.” Harry tugged gently on the fine, silky strands. “It was good.”

Responding to the tug, tilting his head up, Draco smirked. “I know,” he said, resting his chin on Harry’s thigh.

“Do you want to . . .” Tugging Draco’s hair again, Harry wet his lips. “Are you going to fuck me, now?”

Draco blinked, then pulled away from Harry’s thigh. When he looked back, his eyes were larger, his mouth somehow redder. “You want,” he croaked, then cleared his throat. Then his hands were like claws on Harry’s thighs, his hips, Draco scrambling up Harry’s body until he stood on his own two feet. “That’s something you—is that something you want?” Draco’s breath was harsh, his hands still gripping Harry’s hips, his body swaying close. “To get fucked?”

“I thought that’s what we were doing.”

“But you mean—you would fuck me.”

“I can’t very well now, can I?” Harry gripped Draco’s hips in turn, pulling Draco toward him so that the front of Draco’s trousers brushed against Harry’s softening cock. “You spent me.”

“That can be fixed.”

“I thought I was going to come with you inside me.”

Draco sucked in a swift, noisy breath.

“I was trying to, actually,” Harry went on, “but you couldn’t seem to stop sucking my cock. Not that I’m complaining. You’re very good at—”

“Get on the bed,” Draco said, pulling Harry away from the wall, turning him around. He gave Harry a push on his chest.

“At least let me . . .” Harry began pulling off his pants and trousers, which were still halfway down his legs.

“Banish them.”

Harry glanced back up. Draco was leaning against the wall himself, now, his eyes half-lidded as he watched Harry. “Make me,” Harry said, because it was Draco, and he went on taking off his pants, only then they weren’t there, and his shoes were gone, and his socks, and his shirt—each item of clothing disappearing with the advancing slash of Draco’s wand. Then Draco was there, pushing on Harry’s chest again.

“Get on the bed.”

“Make me,” Harry said again, now more interested than teasing, but Draco obeyed, pushing him, hard. Then Draco was there, pushing Harry down, over him on the bed. Harry moved where Draco pushed, moving himself up on the bed so that Draco could get on top of him, fully clothed over Harry’s naked body.

Draco’s hand gripped Harry’s limp dick. “You want this to come while I fuck you?”

“I would have,” Harry said, then took a risk. “But someone’s a come-hungry slut.”

“Yes,” Draco hissed, thrusting his hips against Harry’s, so that Draco’s cloth-covered erection slid across Harry’s thigh. “Someone is.”

“Someone got greedy,” Harry went on. “I guess they’ll just have to wait.”

“Someone is always greedy.” Draco squeezed Harry’s limp cock again. “I can make this greedy. Always wanting more.”

“Eventually,” Harry said, because this squeeze bordered on painful.

“Now,” Draco said, letting go. Pulling back, so that he was kneeling between Harry’s legs, he drew out his wand from his sleeve. “Stop me if you don’t like it. I told you, I’m very good.” Then he pointed his wand at Harry’s dick.

Harry had a moment to experience fear, before his lower abdomen began to tighten, and his cock became heavier. Thicker. Oh fuck. Harry could almost feel the blood being drawn into it—was that what Draco was doing? It certainly looked like it, a long slow movement of the wand above the skin of Harry’s stomach and then a flick over his dick, another long movement above Harry’s thigh, and then a flick to Harry’s dick, like Draco was drawing blood from other parts of Harry’s body to fill his cock. Harry’s cock was hardening without the necessary feeling of arousal, but watching it rise all on its own, feeling it thicken without the consent of his own arousal—it felt like being turned on by rote force.

“Tell me if you don’t like it, Harry,” Draco whispered, still without touching him, forcing Harry’s insides to perform for him. “Just say the word.”

“F—fuck,” Harry said, his hips lifting off the sheets. “Fuck, don’t—don’t stop. Keep—wow, keep doing it.”

“Some people like it a lot,” Draco murmured, and Harry felt as though he could feel the blood being dragged into his cock, forcing it to rise, and rise, forcing it to stand. “Now, hold it like that,” Draco said, as though Harry had any control over his cock at all, but the coaxing strokes of Draco’s wand in the air above Harry’s body stopped, and Draco pointed his wand at Harry’s balls, still loose and relaxed with just having come. Pointed at the air above the testicles, Draco’s wand made a swift, tight circle in the air, and something inside Harry tightened. Inside, where the glands had been loose and relaxed from just having come, the tissue snapped back to create tension and readiness to come again.

Harry moaned, warmth pooling low in his gut in response, arousal created from pure autonomic response. “Fuck, yes,” he said, his hips twisting on the bed. “Yes, that. Do it to me. That.”

“Do you need more?” Draco said, his wand returning to stroke lines from Harry’s legs up to his cock, down from Harry’s belly to his cock, making everything in Harry strain toward his cock, feeding it, making it grow. “Do you want to come really hard for me?” Draco murmured. “Do you want to get all greedy, get your cock so nice and hard you come the second I’m inside you?”

“Yes.” Harry writhed on the bed. “Yes, yes, do it. Do it.”

“Fuck you?” Draco asked calmly, with those same long strokes sculpting Harry’s cock to attention, drawing it higher and harder and hotter. “Or get you harder?”

“Mmph.” Harry twisted on the bed, and it was so hot; he was so hot for it. “Get me—get me—harder. Get it harder.”

“Of course, Harry.” Draco tucked his wand lower, drawing the tight little circle again, like a net around Harry’s insides.

“Oh,” Harry said, hips arching toward the ceiling. “Oh, yes. Yes . . .” He was fucking the air, now, his hips uncontrolled, needing to get his cock into something, against something, touching something, so desperate for it he reached down—but Draco stopped him.

“Oh, my poor baby,” Draco cooed. “You want something on it, don’t you? You need someone to touch it?”

“I think I’ll—I’ll—” Harry gulped for air. “I’ll come if you touch it. I’ll come.”

“Yeah,” Draco agreed. “Yeah, you’ll come, with that lovely big prick of yours. Why don’t you do it for me, sweetheart? Why don’t you come for me?” Then Draco’s hand was on Harry’s dick, wrapping around it, dragging up once, twice.

Harry remembered the spell Draco had cast inside him, the one that made all his insides go tight. Then they went tighter, and he was coming, and Draco was praising him, endlessly.

“Very good, Harry. You did so well, coming all over my hand. I’m so good at fucking you; I’m perfect at it. I could do it all day.” Then he whispered, “Tell me if you need it to stop, Harry,” and he picked up his wand again, and began the spell all over again, stroking blood back into Harry’s cock.

“Oh, fuck,” Harry breathed. It ached, now, but it was filling up regardless, and then Draco was tightening Harry’s insides, making them ready again. Harry’s body, confused by hormones of satiation and the conflicting autonomic signals of his own responding anatomy, followed the instructions of Draco’s wand, pumping his cock erect with blood.

Harry surrendered to it, his legs falling open wider to allow his cock to obey, his balls to respond. He reveled in the surrender, focusing on the cock-filling, the warm helpless heat of his body readying for sex it wasn’t ready for. He heard himself moan, thrusting up toward the ceiling again, turned on just by the sensation of being turned on. “Oh yeah,” he breathed, ragged. “Yeah, get me—get me hard.”

“That’s enough now, Harry,” Draco said gently, stopping once the cock was erect, but not stroking it into rock hard need, like last time. “This time I’ll fuck you.”

“Yeah, fuck me. Fuck me,” Harry said, spreading his legs still wider. “You can do anything, do anything you want to me, fuck me. Draco.”


“Yeah, just—” Harry writhed on the bed. “Just teach me this spell.”

“I have more,” Draco whispered. “Tell me if you don’t like it; I can reverse it.” He pointed his wand, and Harry tensed, but all Draco did was Summon a pillow, then levitate Harry’s hips to position the pillow under him, giving better access to Harry’s hole—that was all.

Harry had thought Draco would do something else unfamiliar, but when Draco pointed his wand again, it was the typical cleaning spell. That always felt good, but strange, absolutely evacuating Harry’s guts, leaving them clean and empty. There followed the protection spell—a special lining, so nothing harmful could be absorbed, as well as protection for the delicate tissues, so there could be no tearing. Then there was the lubrication spell—which Harry always found disappointing, as he preferred the manual treatment, and then—something else.

Harry didn’t know this spell, but it came and made space inside him, stretching him not with pressure but with emptiness. It was almost shocking, how empty he felt, the muscles of his rim suddenly too lax, the tightness inside too loose. He felt as though he’d already been fingered, and the fingers had just been swiftly removed. “Oh,” Harry heard himself say, and his voice was small.

“Don’t worry,” Draco said, his voice swift and rough. “I’ll get it properly filled. You’ll still be nice and tight once I’m in. Tell me if you want me to undo it.” Then he pointed his wand back at Harry’s belly and drew down a line to flick along the curve of Harry’s cock, which had wilted just a little without the encouragement.

“Oh,” Harry said again, his loose arse jerking against the pillow as his cock filled up. “Oh,” he said, as Draco filled it up more. Then Draco was tightening the seminal vesicles inside Harry again, which somehow made Harry’s whole body focus on the unnatural looseness of his arse; he needed his arse tight in the same way as the rest of him. He needed it full, and he felt himself grinding down into the pillow to get pressure on it, to get some kind of tension in it, his cock and his balls tighter and tighter while his arse was just—needy. “Please,” Harry panted, grinding his arse down into the pillow. “Please, get—get in me, put something in me.”

“Yes, Harry.” Draco’s voice was a soft ripple over him. “That’s some very good and proper begging. You like begging, don’t you? You like begging me.”

“Please.” Harry could hear that he was whining, drilling his arse down against the pillow in hungry circles, as though that could get him what he needed. “Please, I love begging, I love it, I need it; I need it.”

“All right, pretty. All right, I’ll give you my cock, just let me get it out for you.”

Hazily, Harry realized Draco was still dressed. He wanted to help Draco open his trousers—why couldn’t he just Banish them, like he had Harry’s clothes? Why was he still dressed at all?—but Draco didn’t Banish them, and Harry wasn’t much help, pawing at Draco’s trousers helplessly, too turned on to do anything but get in the way. At last, there was cock, curved and pink and ready. Harry was so hungry for it his mouth began to water instantly, but he felt too needy to really look long and hard at it, and luckily Draco understood his need, getting over Harry, positioning himself so that the cock could sink into Harry’s loose, wet, hole.

Finally, finally, the tip was pressing against the useless rim, weak and wet and open for anything Draco wanted to push inside him, and then the cock was entering him. Once the tip was in, there was a little burn of muscles, but so little it felt almost as though he’d been fucked before this. The cock filled him up easier than cock ever had, perhaps because Harry was looser than he’d ever been, and it was good and nice and full, but—but it wasn’t enough.

Harry swiveled on the cock inside him, making a circle with his arse so the cock could stir his insides. “Fuck me,” he begged. “Fuck me, fuck me hard. I need it.”

“I know, Harry,” Draco said softly. “I know. Just let me do—” he reached for his wand—“one more thing.” Then he put the wand between Harry’s legs, against Harry’s arse, and—tightened him up.

“Uhn!” Harry shouted, convulsing on the bed, but Draco just held on, and then he began to fuck, and fuck, and fuck.

Goddamn, Harry’s arse had cinched around him just like a vice, this spell the opposite of whatever Draco had done to loosen his arse. The muscles of Harry’s rim still stretched enough to take the cock, but clamped down hard on it now, and wet, his anal walls clenching tightly, greedily. Harry’s body was desperate to push out the intrusion and desperate to take it, gradually loosening as it naturally might while getting fucked raw by a man who had a good cock and knew how to use it. The thought made Harry convulse again, trying to open himself up for that cock, letting himself be taken by that cock, letting himself be taken apart completely by that man.

“Do you want to come while I’m inside you?” Draco asked, fucking him.

“Yes,” Harry said, squirming on another thrust. “Yes, yes, I want to, I want to come on your cock. Yeah.” He moved his arse in a circle again, trying to get that cock to hit new places.

Draco held him down and fucked him harder. “Now’s your chance.”

“Yeah.” Harry pushed his arse down onto the cock. “Yeah.”

“Take care of it.”

“What?” Harry paused for a moment in the wild incessant rocking of his arse down onto cock.

“Take care of it,” Draco repeated. “Reach down for that thick dick of yours and tug on it. I want to watch you play with it.”

“I,” Harry said, then hesitated. He wasn’t sure why. He just hadn’t expected Draco to say that.

Draco leaned in close to Harry’s ear. “Tell me if you don’t want to,” he whispered hotly. “We don’t need to do anything you don’t want. I just love watching big men play with their big cocks.”

“Yeah,” Harry said, inexplicably turned on by this. “Yeah.” Under Draco’s burning eyes, Harry reached for it, his own cock. Fuck, he was so turned on; he writhed again against his hand, fucking down onto Draco’s cock and then up into his own hand, back and forth between them.

“Just like that, pretty,” Draco purred, thrusting into him a little slower now, as though to watch. “Play with that dick and come for me while I fuck you. Come all over yourself for me, paint yourself for me, make yourself pretty like a picture.”

“Fuck,” Harry gasped. “Fuck. I’m close; I’m so close—”

“Yeah,” Draco grunted. “You’ve got a hot fucking cunt, Harry.” Then Draco slammed into him, jolting a place inside of Harry that was like a button directly wired to his cock, forcing orgasm out of Harry like a punch to the gut. Harry lost his mind, but Draco still just kept fucking him, fucking him as Harry went wild on Draco’s cock, spraying come in the air, on his chest. Draco just slid a hand under Harry’s thigh, hiked it up, opened Harry’s legs wider, and nailed him. Draco was really nailing him, like some kind of machine, harder and faster than Harry had been fucked before, Draco saying, “Good, you’re so good, coming like that, getting that big dick doing what I want, what I want, such a tight cunt, Harry, you’re such—” Draco thrust in hard, “a—” another thrust, “tight—” again, “cunt—”

Then, grunting, Draco came, the beginning of his orgasm crashing with the end of Harry’s, hard and wet inside of Harry, so deep inside he couldn’t even feel the come, so hard for so long that Harry’s cock was almost loose and flopping as Draco fucked him through the end.

“Wow,” Harry breathed, as Draco finally finished. “Wow.” At last, now, he could feel the come, as Draco finally slid out and Harry’s arse immediately squeezed to try to keep him, try to keep anything, even the cold, unpleasantly oozing come. Draco settled in beside him. “Wow,” Harry breathed again. He felt loose and empty. “Wow. I don’t think I’ve ever been fucked like that.”

“You were so good,” Draco said, nuzzling against Harry’s neck. “You were perfect.” His hot breath was on Harry’s ear. “Just say no if you don’t like it. That’s all you have to say.”

“I liked it,” Harry said, “I liked it. It was good.”

“I know,” Draco whispered. “I meant if you don’t like this.”

“What--?” Harry started to ask, but Draco had his wand again. Oh, no, he wasn’t going to—

Harry wasn’t sure he could take it—but Draco’s wand was pointed at his own cock, casting that slow stroking spell on himself.

“Oh fuck,” Harry said.

“You’ll have to ask for it,” Draco said.

“Um,” Harry said, his voice faint, rather too mesmerized by the sight of Draco’s slowly hardening cock. “Ask for it?”

“You’ll have to say you want it back in your arse,” Draco said, stroking his cock to life.

“Um.” Harry licked his lips.

Draco climbed back on top of him, straddling him, then brought his wand back to Harry’s dick.

Harry knew he could say no. He knew he should say no. He’d come too many times. What would this do to his prick? But then Draco began casting the spell on Harry’s dick, and Harry felt the sluggish flow of more blood into his tired cock, awakening it. Invigorating it. His arse was still leaking.

“Yeah.” Harry licked his lips again. “Yes.”

“Yes what?” Draco cast the lower spell, the one that went inside Harry’s body, taking away the open, relaxed feeling of having come, tightening the parts inside him that could release more come.

His arse was still loose, though, and aching. Draco had called it a cunt. “Yes,” Harry breathed, “I want it inside me.”

Draco stroked more blood into Harry’s cock, thickening it sculpting it. “You want what inside you?” he asked, his voice calm, measured.

Harry nearly gasped the word, because that low, pooling ache was filling his whole groin: “Cock.”

“Yes,” Draco agreed, back arching as he knelt between Harry’s legs. “Yes, you need it; don’t you?” He was pointing his wand at his own cock again, now, the long slow stroking motions causing his own cock to rise, and rise.

“Yeah,” Harry said, watching. He licked his lips again. “Yeah. Put it in me.”

“All right, Harry.” Malfoy got off of him. “Turn over for me. On your knees.”

“What . . . ?” Harry hadn’t expected this either.

“I want to fuck you on your hands and knees,” Draco said. “I want to see the cunt I’m fucking while I fuck it.”

A hard shudder wracked through Harry at these words. No one had ever talked to him like this before, and the arousal in his groin throbbed without the magic of Draco’s wand, thick and pulsing in his hot cock, making him too aware of the wet emptiness of his arse. Draco was going to fuck it again. He’d just fucked it, and he was going to fuck it again. “Yeah,” Harry said. “Okay,” and he got on his hands and knees.

“Just look at that,” Draco breathed. “You have come. Dribbling out of you. Like a used-up whore.” Then he leaned in, pressing three gentle kisses along Harry’s crack.

“Oh,” Harry said, shuddering under this touch. His cock was so hard that his arse felt desperate for it. He arched his back a little, thrusting his arse toward Draco.

Fingers slid down the crease, down to the waiting hole, wet and soiled with come. Fingers pressed against the opening, teasing muscle of the rim with light pressure as the fingers pressed some of the come back in.

“Yes,” Harry hissed, trying to thrust back again, trying to open his arse to take the fingers, but tightening up again when they left him. “Draco. Draco.”

“So desperate,” Draco murmured. His hand caressed the curve of Harry’s left buttock, warm and perfect, then disappeared. Then he slapped the flesh he’d just caressed.

Harry jerked in surprise. “What—?”

“Do you like that, Harry?” Draco’s voice was gentle, soft, eager. “Does that make you hard?”

Then there was another hard, surprising slap on Harry’s other buttock, and Harry jerked again.

Immediately after, Draco was rubbing the sting away, petting Harry’s arse over and over with smooth, comforting strokes. “Does it make your arse feel needy? Does it make you want to get fucked?”

Harry didn’t answer. He didn’t know what to say. It felt good, but it felt confusing; it felt—

Draco spanked him again. “Harry.” Draco reached around Harry’s arse, pointing his wand again, drawing up Harry’s dick again, making him hotter and hotter. “Do you think I could make you come, just by spanking you? Do you want me to?”

“Yes,” Harry heard himself say. “Yes, do it. Do it to me. Draco.”

Draco spanked him again, hard, three times across one cheek, twice across the other, unpredictable, stinging. He stopped to spell Harry’s cock harder, but Harry was already aching, leaking at the tip, throbbing each time Draco spanked him, and then Draco spanked him again.

It wasn’t hard enough, Harry realized. It wasn’t deep enough. If he could get it deeper, if he could get that rough, stinging slap directly inside his hole, inside of him, in the place connected to his dick, then his dick could feel the spanking and he could come; he could come. He needed it inside; he needed something inside; he needed to be fucked, and Draco spanked him again.

The next slap to Harry’s cheeks punched the words right out of him: “Fuck me.”

“What was that?” Draco slapped him again.

“Fuck me.” Harry was begging now. “Fuck me, Draco, put it in. Put it in; I need it in.”

Draco sucked in a breath. “Of course, Harry. Of course, I’ll fuck you. Poor darling. You just need cock, don’t you?”

“Yes. Please.”

“Good. Let me give it to you.” Draco moved, positioning himself.

Harry felt the brush of fabric and realized through his haze of lust that Draco still hadn’t taken off his clothes, only just opened his trousers, and for some reason the thought made Harry wild. He wanted to see himself: the red, aching arse, the thick, achingly erect prick, the naked, kneeling man, with the pale, slender and aristocratic figure of Draco in his posh clothes, absolutely destroying Harry’s arse with his pink cock.

The cock brushed against him, against his cheeks, then Draco paused. “Just a moment, Harry. What is it that you need?”

“Cock,” Harry said immediately. “Your cock, fucking my arse—I need it. I need it fucking me.”

“Yes, exactly.” Then Draco spanked him again, shocking and hard, and as Harry arched under it Draco’s cock pushed in. Ploughing familiar territory, now, it wasn’t a slow slide in; it was a harsh, solid fuck, and Harry moaned.

“Yeah,” he gasped. “Yeah, like that. Do me like that. Do me.”

“I hadn’t guessed you would be into it like this, Harry,” Draco said, almost conversational as he fucked him.

“Yes,” Harry agreed. “Yes, I’m into it; I’m into it. I’m into you in me.”

“Letting your messy arse get used more than once. It’s unexpected.”

“Yeah,” Harry agreed again. “It’s hot; you make me so hard. I’m so hard.”

“You like the spell, then?”

“I fucking,” Harry thrust back onto him, “love the spell. Love it, love it on your cock, in my arse, on my cock; it’s good. It’s so good.”

“I know another one.”

It took a while of fucking for Harry to process this, and then he still couldn’t. “Another what?”

Draco leaned down over him, the rich silky fabric of his shirt against Harry’s back. Grunting, Draco thrust in again, hard, but his voice was close and soft when he said, “Another spell. It will make you into such a slut, Harry.”

“Is that—what you’re—doing? Making me—a—slut?” Harry spread his legs; the angle wasn’t as good with Draco leaning over him like this. When he was horizontal and someone was perpendicular they could really drill into his arse, really drill him like he needed to be drilled. Still, the way Draco was draped over him now made him feel pinned, which he also liked, and Harry almost felt as though he was there to get fucked, like Draco could do what he wanted to him, and Harry had to take it. It was a good feeling.

“Well,” Draco said, “technically, you already were a slut. I just . . . played with you a little.”

“Fuck.” Harry jerked under him, because the thought of Draco playing with him was feeding directly into his thought that Draco could do whatever he pleased. “Yes,” Harry said. “Yes, you can—play with me. Play with me—all you—fucking—want.”

“All right, Harry.”

Draco’s voice was soft, and Draco was behind him, so at first Harry wasn’t aware that Draco was casting another spell. Then Harry’s mouth began to water.

“Oh,” Harry said, realizing it slowly. Like Draco’s other spells, this one had done nothing to incur desire. It had only forced his body to respond in a way it sometimes might when experiencing desire, activating salivatory glands to fill his mouth with wetness. He had to swallow to keep it in his mouth. He was almost drooling.

“You want to suck on something, don’t you, Harry?” Draco asked, his voice gentle. “You need something in your mouth. Something to fill you up.”

“Mmph,” Harry said, swallowing to keep the drool in. He thrust back against Draco’s cock.

“Think of it, Harry,” Draco breathed, close to Harry’s ear, though fucking too hard to really stay there. “Think of something nice and thick in your mouth. Think of something hard brushing those lovely lips of yours. Think of something hard fucking against that lovely tongue.”

Harry heard himself moan.

“Think of another cock,” Draco said, “fucking your face while I fuck your cunt.”

“Mm.” Licking his lips, Harry swallowed again, because for some reason the thought of cock on his tongue sounded like the perfect solution for all of this saliva. He’d always liked cock-sucking, but nothing had ever made him this desperate for it.

“Do you want that, Harry? Do you want a nice, thick prick to suck on, fill that greedy mouth?” When Harry moaned again, Draco thrust particularly hard. “Use your words, darling.”

Harry moaned harder. In response, Draco slowed, fucking slower, more gently. “Tell me what you want, Harry.”

“Cock,” Harry heard himself say. “Cock. Fucking. Fucking me, cock.”

“Where?” Draco asked.

“In my—in my arse. Fuck me hard again. Like you were before.”

“Put your back into it, sweetheart. Fuck yourself.”

“Oh,” Harry said.

“I love watching a big man like you post his pretty cunt onto another man’s cock,” Draco said. “Come on, darling. Fuck yourself onto me.”

For some reason Draco’s words were the hottest thing that Harry had ever heard, and so he swallowed the wet in his mouth and did exactly what Draco said: posted his pretty cunt back onto Draco’s cock, hard.

“Yeah,” Draco breathed. “Work it for me, slut.”

Harry worked it, arching his back as he slammed his arse back, then releasing to rock forward, then slamming back again. His mouth was filling with drool.

“Perfect,” Draco whispered. “Perfect. Now, Harry. Where else would you like this prick of mine to service you?”

“In my mouth,” Harry said, the answer feeling like it’d been on the tip of his tongue, his mouth garbled with a little too much spit. “Fucking—fucking my mouth.”

“Good boy. Hold still, Harry.” Then Draco’s hand was on Harry’s neck, holding him there as though to steady himself while Draco fucked in hard—then again—and again—again—

“Yes,” Harry cried out. “Uhghn.” He still struggled to swallow the drool. “Yes, yes—do me, like that, yes—”

“Going to, come in you,” Draco grunted. Then he slapped the meaty side of Harry’s thigh, hard.

“Yes!” Harry threw his head back. “Do it!”

“Good—slut—” Draco grunted again, then cried out, orgasm sounding as though it tore out of him as he fucked Harry roughly from behind, one of his first thrusts of it hitting that place inside of Harry that made Harry see stars. Then Harry was fucking with him, feeling like he was chasing his own orgasm, but no one was touching his dick. It didn’t matter. He couldn’t come like this, without touch, and it didn’t matter; he felt like a mindless animal fucking to the tune of being fucked. Oh, goddamn, he needed more.

Then Draco was finishing up, cruelly pulling out. “Shuffle down, Harry,” Draco said.

Harry, not quite understanding what Draco meant, looked over his shoulder, and Draco was already clambering off the bed. He was still fully dressed in his linen trousers and silk shirt, embroidered cream waistcoat, just his prick pink and wet drooping out between open flies. It was still thick. Harry licked his lips. Maybe he would still get to lick—

“Down,” Draco said, jerking on Harry’s ankle. Harry moved farther down on the bed; then Draco was coming around to the head of the bed, sitting there and shifting himself so his back was to the headboard. “Don’t worry, Harry,” he said. “I’ll get you what you need.” Then he was pointing his wand at his cock, casting a cleaning spell.

Harry thought he might drool. The sight of the pink prick was too much for him, even softening, and his own prick was aching enough for the both of them. He moved down for a taste—

“Patience, pet,” Draco said, gripping Harry’s hair to pull him away. “Let me get it nice and hard for you.” Then he was casting the spell on himself that dragged the blood up into his cock, and by now, the spell was really beautiful to Harry. It looked like conducting music, like urging an artform; it really did look like Draco was sculpting his own cock, drawing fluid inside him into it. Inches from Harry’s face it rose, and rose.

Harry heard himself whine. His mouth was beginning to dribble.

“I know,” Draco soothed. “You need this lovely prick in your mouth. Do you want to lick it while I cast the spell on it? Just so you can have a little taste.”

Harry whined again, but managed to nod his head with Draco’s hand in his hair, and Draco let go. Immediately, Harry descended, and immediately, Draco grabbed his hair and yanked. Harry made a sound of protest.

“I said just lick,” Draco said. “Don’t suck it until I tell you too. Nice little pretty kitten licks, Harry, like it’s a nice lolly for you. Okay?”

Licking his lips, Harry swallowed.

“Okay?” Draco said again.

“Mm-hm.” Harry gave a jerky nod. “Mm-hm, just let me . . .”

Draco let him, and for Harry, getting something on his tongue was like heaven. The smell of it. The tenderness of it, the hardness of it. The way it grew harder and harder as Draco stroked his wand beside Harry’s face, where Harry was intently licking on the cock in the way he was allowed. Harry’s mouth had never been so wet. And then he got to lick the tip, but there was no pre-come.

“I came twice inside you, Harry.” Draco’s voice was soft. “My prick won’t be able to do it again unless I cast the spell. Do you want me to? So I can come inside you again?”

“Mm-hm,” Harry said, around a frantic lick. “Mm-hm.”

“Good boy.” Draco pointed the wand lower, probably making that tight little circle with it at his testicles, but Harry didn’t see; he was too intently licking. “Okay,” Draco said. “Now you can suck.”

A moan of relief opened Harry’s mouth, and he took the cock in, letting it chafe his lips on the way, letting it rest heavy on his tongue. At last, he had something to fill his mouth, to work all that wetness on. He tightened his lips and sucked, literally drooling around Draco’s cock.

“Take it.” Draco gently threaded his hands in Harry’s hair, then gave a little tug—not down onto the cock and not away, pulling just to pull it. “Good. Like that. You needed it, didn’t you?”

“Mm-hm.” Harry moaned messily around the cock, sucking noisily now.

“That’s a good slut.” The hand released his hair, moving down to wipe up the drool on Harry’s chin. “Stop a moment, okay, darling?”

“Mm-mm,” Harry said, trying to shake his head while still sucking on it.

“You can keep it in your mouth.” Draco’s voice was soft. “I just want to make sure you hear this. Do you understand?”

Almost sighing, Harry pulled off the cock, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “What?”

“Just this. Tap my thigh three times if you don’t like it.”

“Don’t like what?”

“Do you understand?”

“But if I don’t like what?”

“Do you want to suck it?”

“What?” Harry glanced down at Draco’s cock, surprised by the question. “Yeah,” he said, looking back up at Draco. “I said I did.”

“Good.” Draco cupped Harry’s chin with a warm hand. “That’s so good. Tap my thigh if you want to stop. Understand?”

“Ye-es,” Harry said, uncertain.

“Good boy. All right. Open your mouth, Harry, and suck my cock.” Then the hand was moving from Harry’s cheek to his hair, forcing Harry’s head back down, and Harry went willingly, opening his mouth and taking it. “Perfect slut,” Draco praised, changing his grip so that he could stroke Harry’s scalp. “Now we go again. Tap if you don’t like it, Harry.”

Harry had no idea what Draco meant, but he was picking up his wand, and—

Harry’s arse opened up again, just as it had the first time Draco loosened it. With this spell the muscles of his rim felt slack, loose, and this time there was come inside, dribbling out of Harry’s arse down his thighs. Beneath him, his cock—already hard—began to get harder, muscles inside tightening.

Fuck, Harry needed to come. He needed to come, but not from his cock; he needed something in his arse, something to make him feel full, anything. He’d take anything.

“Need another cock, Harry?” Draco said gently, still petting Harry’s hair with his free hand as Harry sucked.

“Mm,” Harry said, voice muffled by cock. “Mm-hm.” He needed it so bad that he finally released the cock in his mouth. “Please. Please, I need . . .” He arched his back, fucking back onto a cock that sadly, wasn’t there.

“You need?” Draco said, tone patient.

“Fuck.” Harry thrust back again. “Fuck me again. Put it in me again.”

“It was just in you,” Draco said. “Your mouth doesn’t want it any more?”

Glancing down at Draco’s prick, Harry swallowed. Shiny and wet with Harry’s spit, it looked like a goddamn meal, and Harry’s mouth was still watering. He didn’t even know if it was still from the spell Draco had cast on his salivatory glands, or whether it was just him; he just wanted it. “I . . .” Helplessly, Harry licked his lips. “I need you to fuck my arse more.”

“Poor doll.” Draco stroked Harry’s hair, then waved his wand with his other hand. “Accio green toy.” He dropped his wand, and a green toy popped into his hand.

It was a dildo. A large dildo, unmistakably cock-like, with the flare of a head and a long smooth length, obscenely plastic. It wasn’t even Slytherin green. It was a bright, lime green, as though to announce definitively that it was a big fake cock.

“What about that?” Draco whispered, then dragged the green head over Harry’s lips. “Do you want some of that?”

Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Yes. Yes, Harry wanted some of that. He opened his mouth.

“No.” Snatching it away, Draco went on, “it’s going to fuck you. Meanwhile, you’ll go on sucking my cock. I want my come all over you, Harry. I want it all over your face.”

“Yes,” Harry breathed.

“Yes, what?”

“I’ll fuck myself with it,” Harry said, “while I suck you.”

“How sweet,” Draco said, “but it’s not what I said.” Setting the dildo on the bed, Draco picked up his wand again, and tapped the toy. It began to move. More precisely, it began to fuck, a forward thrusting motion across the bed, long firm strokes. “Do you want that in you?”

Harry could feel himself drooling, and quickly tried to lick it up. Closing his mouth and swallowing, he nodded his head. Hard.

“It can fuck you whenever I want,” Draco said. “As hard as I want. As fast as I want it. You like the thought of being filled up and fucked with a toy. Don’t you, Harry?”

“Mm-hm.” Harry nodded his head. “Yes. Yes. Put it—put it in me.”

“Put your face on my cock,” Draco said, “and maybe I will.”

“Jesus,” Harry said, because it was just so hot. “Draco.” Then he opened his mouth, and took Draco down again.

Meanwhile, Draco tapped the green toy with his wand, and—still thrusting—it floated away.

“Mmm.” Harry thrust back his arse, anticipating it.

“Patience, pretty slut.”

Harry sucked for a messy moment, and then it came—too thick and too hard into his arse, thrusting without any gentleness or finesse, and Harry moaned. He moaned with the slight pain of it and the onslaught of pleasure, the way it immediately was methodically fucking his guts. Harry moaned more as it fucked, drooling over Draco’s cock.

Draco ’s hand gripped Harry’s hair. “I’m going to watch that over and over again in a Pensieve,” Draco said. “Harry Potter busy sucking my cock while a big thick toy slams his pussy from behind and absolutely nails him, and he just takes it. He takes it moaning like a whore.”

Yes, Harry thought wildly, thrusting his arse back against the toy. Yes. Like a whore.

“Love being taken from both ends, don’t you?” Gripping his hair, Draco forced Harry down farther on his cock. “Love being fucked. I bet I could get a whole group of men in here, and you would love it, wouldn’t you? You’d love bouncing on their big thick cocks. Big, strong wizard like you, taking it from every man in the room.”

Harry moaned. He didn’t know why he was so turned on. The toy was drilling right into that magic spot, punching it, really. He imagined that it was another man, and he almost thought he could come without touch.

For a minute Harry was lost in it, the mindless fucking, hungry sucking; he just wanted to suck and suck while the toy pounded his arse like an insatiable cock using him for its pleasure. He was only just noticing his jaw becoming tired, his insides so close to orgasm but not achieving it that he was beginning to ache in not a good way, when suddenly the toy slowed—still fucking him, but gentler now, shallower. Immediately Harry missed that hard fucking, whining at the lost of it. A warm hand cupped his cheek. “That’s enough now, Harry,” Draco murmured.

Harry whined again, sucking hard, arching his back and thrusting into the air behind him to get more of that faux cock.

“Come on, darling,” Draco said. “I want to rut my cock on your face. I want hot come all over your cheeks. I want it in your eyelashes.”

Harry made a startled sound on Draco’s cock, surprised and so turned on.

“Yes,” Draco said, thumb rubbing Harry’s cheek, where Harry was still sucking the cock in his mouth. “I want to look at you and see all that hot come dripping off of you. I want to watch the memory of me coming on your face.”

“Mmm,” Harry moaned, at last pulling off with one long, hot suck. “Do it.”

“I want to duplicate the memory,” Draco said, moving Harry’s head with his hands, positioning it. “I want to sell it on Knockturn.” Draco’s cock was lying thickly against Harry’s cheek, now. “I want everyone to see their precious Hero of the Wizarding World, with cock on his face, taking it and loving it.” Draco began to thrust, rutting into his face just as he’d promised.

It was awkward and uncomfortable and chafed, and Harry loved it. “Yeah,” he heard himself say. “Do it to me. Get it on me.”

“I want it dripping down your face.”

“Yeah,” Harry panted, moving his head up and down so that Draco’s cock could slide up along his cheek. “Give it to me.”

“Merlin,” Draco breathed. “That dildo is still fucking you.” Then he came, just as he had said, all over Harry’s face, and Harry closed his eyes. He felt it splash on his eyelids, his forehead, across his cheek, Draco’s cock thrusting wildly on Harry’s face, Draco’s hands holding Harry’s head in place so he could get it on him. “Play with yourself,” Draco whispered, breathless.

Harry opened his eyes. Draco had let go of Harry’s head, and his cock was no longer coming, but his hips were still half thrusting, his cock wilting only slowly.

“Play with yourself,” Draco said again. “Touch that big thick cock and come for me. Come for me covered in my come, while my toy fucks your pliant cunt. Do it because I told you to.”

Shuffling a bit so Harry could balance himself on one hand and his knees while his other hand touched himself, Harry wrapped his hand around his big thick cock.

“Slowly,” Draco said. “So I can see. Perform for me.”

Harry groaned. “I—don’t know—if I—can. ‘M so—hot.” But he tried to go slow, loosening his grip, running it up his aching prick. He shuddered.

“Of course, you can.” Draco picked up his wand, then flicked it, and the dildo slowed even farther.

Harry let out a low sound. Then Draco pointed his wand at his own cock, and began to sculpt it up again.

“Fuuuck,” Harry gasped. The sudden, involuntary buck of his hips shoved the dildo in a little deeper, and then he couldn’t help it—his hand tightened, and he was jacking his cock, eyes glued to Malfoy’s pink prick, growing harder and harder. Come was drying on Harry’s face. He wanted to taste it. “Fuck,” he said again, and came.

Harry was loud, louder than he’d ever been from touching himself, and the orgasm felt like it ripped through him forever. He kept catching glimpses of Draco’s rising prick, and it made him come harder, and then the dildo eased inside again, and he thrust back into it.

“Poor slut,” Draco said at last, when he was finally slowing. “Accio green toy.”

The dildo wrenched out of Harry’s arse, up into Draco’s hands, and sudden, intense loss filled the place it had been. Draco had called it a cunt, Harry remembered again, and shuddered. A pliant cunt, no less.

“Immaculo,” Draco told the dildo, and it was immediately stripped clean. Then he pointed the wand at Harry’s face.

Expecting that Draco would now Immaculo the come, Harry tilted his head to give Draco an angle, but instead, Draco cast a healing spell. Harry’s jaw immediately felt better, the ache gone and the muscle fresh. “You can say no,” Draco whispered, then cast another spell.

Harry’s mouth instantly filled with more saliva.

“Now give it a good time,” Draco said, and held the dildo against Harry’s lips. “Treat it like you would a nice, hot prick you would really like to fuck you.”

Oh God, Harry thought, but his tongue was already darting out to gently swirl around the head. Oh God. His eyes rolling back in his skull, Harry closed them, working his tongue over the green dildo, then at last letting himself take the head of it in his mouth to suck.

“There’s my good slut.” Draco’s hand wrapped in Harry’s hair, pushing down. The dildo was also moving down, and Harry chased it with his mouth until the dildo was on Draco’s upper thigh, almost directly parallel to Draco’s own dick. Harry had lost track of it during his orgasm, but Draco’s cock was fully hard again.

Smelling it so close, Harry eyed it hungrily, even while he was sucking on the dildo. Harry began to ease off of the dildo so he could switch to the real thing.

“No,” Draco said, still holding Harry’s hair. “You’re pleasuring the toy, Harry. Make sure you’re a good little slut for it; give it what it needs. Any prick I give you, I want you to show it what a good slut you are.”

Oh fuck. Harry heard himself make a needy little sound.

“Keep on it, Harry,” Draco whispered, letting go of the dildo. Harry had to grip it now, gripping it so he could suck and work it in his mouth.

Then Draco was moving out from under him, and Harry felt the loss of him, but he had to keep sucking on the dildo. Be a good slut for it. Give it what it needs.

“Will you look at this filthy arse?” Draco said, and Harry realized Draco was behind him. Then Draco was slapping him—a hard, flat hand stinging across Harry’s right buttock.

“Ah,” Harry cried out, his mouth still stuffed with fake prick.

“Keep sucking, Harry,” Draco said, then spanked him in the same place again.

Harry moaned, then sucked, then pushed his arse back for another slap, just like that.

Instead, Draco slapped the other side, then again, then again, until Harry was drooling all over the fake cock and arching his back to get his arse slapped, trying not to bite on the lovely dick in his mouth even though it was fake. Any prick I give you, Draco had said. Oh fuck. Oh fuck. “Fuck me,” Harry panted, finally taking the dildo out.

“You’ve been fucked twice,” said Draco, who was still fully clothed, except for his erect prick emerging from nearly pristine trousers. “Another time by a toy. And then I fucked your mouth; you have come drying on your face. You’re moaning over that toy just like a whore—are you sure you need another fucking?”

“Yes,” Harry said, and Draco spanked him. Harry moaned. “Yes.”

“You just need cock. Don’t you?” Another spanking.

Harry nearly squeaked, the slap was so hard and unexpected. “Yes, I need—I need cock.”

“Such pretty begging,” Draco said. “Put it in your mouth, like a good slut.”

Harry put it in his mouth, and the dildo shallowly began to move in and out of its own accord. Draco had cast a spell on it, and Harry moaned in pleasure. Then Draco was moving behind him, the press of something against Harry’s hole, and—yes. Yes. Draco’s prick was thick and heavy and perfect, where it belonged, inside of him.

“Fuck,” Draco groaned, “you’re so loose. I can slide right in.”

Yeah. Yeah. He was loose. Harry opened his legs wider, an awkward process while on his knees, but he wanted to be open for Draco, resting on his forearms so he could pleasure the toy.

Draco drew back partway, then slammed in again, roughly enough that the bed bounced.

Harry moaned to show he loved it.

“Yeah,” Draco grunted. “Fuck. The way you take it, you’re so willing for it, aren’t you; you love getting fucked from both ends, something to fuck your mouth and fill your slutty wet cunt of an arse. Fuck.” Draco’s voice dropped to a raspy whisper. “You’re not even hard.”

Harry didn’t know why, but this fact made him even hotter, and Draco must have found it hot too, because the pace of the fucking increased. Harry arched his back to try to get more of it, more and more. Then his cock began to grow.

Oh no.

Draco was casting the spell again, while he fucked; Harry twisted to look over his shoulder, the green dildo coming with him. Draco was still fucking him, but he had reached around Harry’s hip to point his wand at Harry’s cock.

“Eyes on your work, Harry,” Draco said, when he saw Harry looking. Bracing his wand hand on Harry’s hip, Draco used his other hand to push Harry’s head forward and down. “Show that prick in your mouth what an obedient slut a big man like you can be. Let it use your mouth.”

The fake dick in Harry’s mouth paused in its thrusting, and Harry took hold of it, frantically swirling his tongue around the tip, getting in a few good, hard sucks before it began to thrust again. Opening his mouth wide, Harry let it take him.

Between his leg, his cock rose, the pulses of blood Draco was magically sending into it flooding his cock in time to Draco’s thrusts. Then Draco did that other spell, the one that would make Harry come even though he really shouldn’t, even though he felt like he really didn’t have any more come left to give.

“I’m not even going to touch it,” Draco whispered. “I’m just going to leave that big, thick prick between your legs, and you’re going to get off just from pleasuring us, aren’t you—”

Harry moaned, partly from Draco’s words, partly because he really thought he could come, just from getting fucked on both ends, just from listening—

“I’m going to get you hard whenever I want.” Draco was panting now. “I’ll ask you to play with your big prick for my pleasure. You’ll only touch it for me, Harry, and I’ll watch you—I’ll watch you—I’ll watch you—get fucked—”

Then Draco was slamming into him hard, and coming, and Harry had to take the toy out of his mouth because its thrusting was too much. It was all too much; Draco coming felt like Harry was coming, except that he wasn’t; he was still hard, achingly hard, and Draco was shuddering on top of him, collapsing on top of him, still thrusting, still coming, but gasping, trying to say something. “Harry—Harry—Harry, I—I—” But he could catch his breath; he was almost hyperventilating.

“Draco,” Harry said, suddenly wishing he could hold him.

“Turn over,” Draco said, yanking on Harry’s hip. Harry turned over, and Draco grabbed the toy. “Get that thing away,” he said, tossing it on the floor, where it continued to thrust. Fumbling, Draco found his wand, then Banished it. Then he Banished his clothes. All of them.

Then he was pressing up against, Harry, all of him, Draco’s long bare body pressing against his, Draco’s mouth pressing against his, Draco’s leg pressing between his. He pulled away from Harry’s mouth with a satisfied little noise. “Rut against me,” he whispered, nudging his thigh higher between Harry’s own. “Use me; use my body. Use me for anything; pleasure yourself on me.”

“Um.” Harry swallowed hard. He’d already come so much; he wasn’t sure he could do it again.

“I don’t care if you come.” Draco’s voice was hushed, eager. “Use my body to feel good. Harry.” Draco’s hand was wandering down, wrapping around Harry’s cock. “Do you want me to use my mouth on it?”

“Draco.” Harry shuddered. How was Draco not fucked out by now? Harry was fucked out.

And yet, Draco’s hand was on his cock. His voice was warm and hoarse in Harry’s ear. And while Harry’s muscles felt they had played ten games of Quidditch, his cock was ready to go, and his insides felt tight and ready to come. “Yeah,” Harry heard himself grunt. “Put your mouth on it.”

“Yes. Please—yes.” Draco was already sinking lower, pressing Harry down flat onto the mattress, and then the warm wet heat of his mouth was enveloping the head, and Harry wanted to fuck it. He wanted to fuck it hard; he was so hot for it. He didn’t know how he could be so hot for it, when he felt so exhausted. Then his hand was in Draco’s hair, those find, silky strands, and he was forcing Draco to take more of it.

Draco moaned in absolute pleasure, and took it farther down. Then one of his hands was reaching for Harry’s, bringing Harry’s hand down onto Harry’s own cock, even as Draco sucked it.

Draco really did like Harry to play with it, Harry thought, and this thought made Harry come, spurting it in Draco hot mouth. Moaning again, Draco took it, swallowed, then took some more, trying to get it all as Harry’s thrusts became erratic, licking and then nuzzling at Harry all through it.

“No more,” Harry said, as Draco shimmied up in the bed beside him.

“No,” Draco agreed. Then: “Hold me.”

Harry held him, pulling Draco closer, then turning on his side so he could pull Draco as close as possible—rather awkward, face to face. Draco cast cleaning spells on both of them, then covered them with a sheet.

“I love everything we just did,” Draco said, after a moment of lying there, skin to skin, protected from the world by a slip of linen. His voice sounded small. “Did you?”

“Draco.” Harry held him tighter, then kissed the back of his neck. “Yes. As long as we get to do it again.”

Draco pressed against him. “I’ll think about it.”