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Keep Your Mouth Shut

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Even if the opinion had only been muttered under an angry breath one time, half the words swallowed in an uncharacteristic swig of tequila, James's dad had been right about one thing: Malfoys could never keep their goddamn mouths shut.

It had been faint to James's ears but still rang in his subconscious, especially at times like this.

"Are you almost finished? God, I could have done my Arithmancy essay twice over in the time it's taken you to–"

"I've got the spell," James growled. "God, shut up."

"You do not, or I wouldn't still be lying here with my hands completely free, now would I?" Two palms flashed up at James and ten fingers wiggled. Even his damn hands had attitude. "Give me the book."

"No. And why are half your clothes still on, if you're in such a hurry? You're the one who wanted a good ravishing."

A characteristic pout and eye roll. "I didn't say that, you ponce. You were the one who threatened to tie me down right outside History of Magic and–" a shuddering breath – "and, have your way with me. All I said was–"

"Dear God, yes," James mimicked, flinging the back of one hand over his forehead. "Tie me up and take me, Potter."

The eyes narrowed.

James grinned. Malfoy might never shut the fuck up, but riling him until he was practically shouting and waving his arms frantically in objection before tackling him, pinning his wrists, and grinding against him was an experience James had quite come to look forward to each week.

"I did not."

"You might as well have."

"But I didn't, so, fuck off."

James glared at him but fell silent, letting his gaze rove over Malfoy's body. The little slag had ditched his shoes and trousers almost immediately after slipping into the Room of Requirement and now was lounging on the bed in only his shorts and his open shirt, fingering the edges of the tie still hanging open around his neck and teasing James something fierce with the look on his face. "Malfoy," James said quietly, raising his wand. "I thought I told you to shut up."

This was the best part. This was the part where Malfoy's face flushed and his eyes fluttered closed and his lips parted. This was the part where his hips tilted up even as he tried to keep them still, where the toes of one foot always curled under a little bit and his knees fell open just a fraction more. This was the part where Malfoy would start to touch himself, running his fingers over the outline of his erection as he watched James circle the bed, where he would move his eyes from James's chest, to his mouth, back down to his crotch, and try to get James to –

"You can tell me to shut up, but that doesn't make you the ruler of the bloody universe, so maybe I don't have to do what you say all the time, ever think of that?"

The fantasy crumbled, and James rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger.

"Maybe I'd let you tie me up in the Charms corridor, or maybe I wouldn't. It's not like you always get to decide what I–"

"Incarcerous."

The word whipped out of James's mouth as the spell followed quickly from his wand. In an instant, the path of the bonds sweeping and almost majestic, Malfoy's wrists were secured over his head and a gag drowned out his words. With wide eyes, he made the loudest racket he could from behind the gag, shouting and twisting in the bonds.

James stood quietly by the bed, watching him. He dropped his wand to the side table and then placed his hands on his hips. The eldest son and the only child – what a bloody pair they made. Neither of them was used to not getting what they wanted. "Now," he said at last, "do you still feel like doing your fucking Arithmancy essay, or are you going to believe me that I know what I'm doing?"

Malfoy stilled, his chest heaving and his breath coming in heavy gasps through his nose.

James stepped forward, tilting Malfoy's chin towards him with the tip of his forefinger. "I think I like you like this."

Despite his fierce eyes, Malfoy coloured.

"Oh." James's fingers moved up Malfoy's jaw. "Oh. I see. You like it too, don't you?"

Malfoy's breathing had evened out, but he cast his eyes down.

"It's okay if you do," said James gently, even though his cock was pounding from the thrill of holding this kind of power over Malfoy. He reached up to loosen his own tie, pulling it free before starting in on his shirt. "I won't tell anyone."

Malfoy glared at him.

"Well, look at that." James pretended to consult the clock on the sideboard. "Thirty entire seconds without your mouth flapping."

Malfoy shifted and tensed, his fingers curling against the bonds. Angry, muffled sounds started up from behind the gag again.

James kicked his trousers off and crawled on the bed, straddling Malfoy. He regarded him for a moment, head tilted to the side as Malfoy continued to try to make himself understood. Finally, with a pained sigh, James reached forward and tugged the gag out of Malfoy's mouth and tucked it under his chin.

"–say you were going to gag me, you Neanderthal. Wrists, Potter." He rattled the chains against the headboard. "I agreed to wrists."

James leaned forward, his balls pressing down on Malfoy's cock even through their briefs, and brought his face close to Malfoy's. "You'll agree to what I say you'll agree to." He kept the words quiet, letting them fog up the hairsbreadth of space between their mouths, loving the way Malfoy's lips parted and his breath quickened.

"Oh?" If there had been any intended bite to the word, it only came out as a breathy puff. Malfoy's voice dropped, and he tried to arch forward to brush James's lips.

James held himself out of reach.

"And what do you say I'll agree to?"

James let the tip of his nose slide over Malfoy's cheek, his lips ghosting over his jaw. Malfoy moaned, lifting his hips up. God, it never took much to get him making those sounds. Still, James could never be sure when a delicious groan could turn back into a whinge for a clean towel or a protest about the colour of James's tie. "I say you'll agree that I shouldn't bother fucking you again–"

Malfoy let out a small grunt, pulling his lower lip under his teeth.

"–until you've learned to keep your mouth shut."

Oh. God. It was fascinating, really, how lightning-quick the effect was. The words were barely out of James's mouth before Malfoy's eyes fell closed and he took a shuddering breath. His cock thickened and pulsed against James's, and James let himself grind down into it, just a little bit. Then an idea struck him. He wasn't sure it would be possible – Malfoy could come just from James looking at his dick the right way, honestly – but it could be fun to try. Too much fun, in fact. He wet his lips and raised himself up on his knees, his thighs still pressed to the outside of Malfoy's hips.

He hooked his thumb into his briefs and lowered them, watching Malfoy's eyes as he took in James's prick emerging from the dark fabric. James left himself just enough room to free his cock and balls, but otherwise left the briefs on. He liked getting off with Malfoy while they still had their clothes half-on. Nakedness wasn't really something he was into with another bloke. With anyone, really. Not yet. And he liked the way Malfoy's gaze tended to linger on James's red and gold tie as he shoved it out of the way to bite at James's nipple, or the way Malfoy's hands felt plunging into his trousers.

James paused, his fingers light around his dick. "Are you going to be quiet?"

Malfoy raised his eyes. He seemed to consider this, his mouth curving into a sly smile. He didn't answer.

"Oh, I see." James tightened his grip, stroking himself slowly and drawing Malfoy's gaze back down. "You are going to do what I say."

With a sigh, Malfoy looked ready to protest again.

"Ah-ah." James stopped stroking, holding his other hand up as if to stop Malfoy. "I feel like coming all over you," he managed, his cock already aching just from being on top of Malfoy like this, pinning him and watching his face crumple in arousal. "So I think I will."

Malfoy barely held in a grunt, swallowing hard. His big eyes were still glued to James, lashes fluttering rapidly. God, but he was pretty. James struggled for control.

"You, on the other hand..." He lifted his hand from his prick and slid it down Malfoy's tense stomach, his fingertips pressing briefly into the hard line of Malfoy's cock under his pants. "...have to be very, very quiet, or I'm not going to suck you off after."

Malfoy's prick twitched under James's fingers, and James almost sighed, thinking Malfoy was about to come right then and ruin everything. On impulse, he circled his thumb and one finger around the base of Malfoy's prick, stretching the material of his pants, and squeezed.

"Not before me," he warned. Malfoy's eyes widened, and his wet lips parted. A shaky sigh escaped his lips, but then he quickly pressed them together, breathing heavily through his nose. Holy fuck. Malfoy was doing it. Malfoy was agreeing to this. James's heart hammered in his chest, and he brought his shaking hand back to his prick.

He gripped himself hard. This wasn't really the time for a long, slow wank. It was weird doing this in front of Malfoy, for one, being on display like this. Fumbling in broom closets or on common room sofas wasn't the same. This was... Malfoy was staring straight at James's dick, watching everything James liked to do to himself. It was really fucking personal, in a way. And James couldn't deny that it was turning him on like mad. Malfoy's chest was rising and falling like his heart might burst from excitement, and he kept wetting his lips as he stared at James's prick emerging from his fist over and over again.

James glanced up again and took in the thin strips of silver securing Malfoy's wrists to the headboard, his fists tight beyond the bonds. Malfoy's sinewy arms were stretched taut, pulling his chest wide open and causing his open shirt to fall to each side. His forearms flexed where the sleeves of his shirt were rolled up, and his stomach muscles clenched with every wiggle underneath James that he couldn't seem to keep in. He was a gorgeous fucking specimen, the bastard, and James felt his prick bulging in his fist, that familiar fog of heat rushing through him.

He fell forward but stopped himself with his hand gripping the top of the headboard as he came, struggling to keep his eyes open long enough to watch the strands of white drape across Malfoy's bare chest and –

"My tie. Oh, you bastard. Oh, fuck. I have to meet Marla to revise in twenty minutes, you idiot. God, my balls hurt. You fucking wanker. How are you this hot? Where do you even get these stupid ideas? I have come all over me, God, let my hands out and kiss me, dammit, and then clean this up, and I swear, if you don't have my dick in your mouth in the next two seconds, I'm going to maim you, I'm serious."

"Shut up," moaned James, his arm still locked against the headboard as he buried his head in his shoulder, panting. His fist had slowed over his cock, and he was enjoying the pleasant aftershocks of his orgasm. At Malfoy's outburst, though, he snapped back to reality and his dick shrank, dangling over Malfoy's stomach with the last few drops of come falling on him. Annoyed, James planted his wet hand over Malfoy's chest and smeared it around.

Malfoy struggled against him, cursing and hollering. "Hands!" he bellowed, scrambling into a sitting position and glaring at James.

"No!" James shouted back. "You can fucking stay like that! I told you not to talk."

"I didn't! You were finished! I was allowed to talk when you were finished."

"No, you weren't." James wiped his hand on the bedspread, pulled his pants back up and climbed off the bed. He grabbed his wand and cleaned himself up.

"Potter." Malfoy rattled the chains again. James glanced back at him, still annoyed but also perversely pleased to see how hard Malfoy was, his dick trying to bust right through his pants.

James turned around and glared. To his surprise, Malfoy closed his mouth over his next words, glaring right back. They stayed that way for a long moment. Every time Malfoy looked like he was about to speak, James narrowed his eyes or held his hand up to stop him. Finally, Malfoy seemed to relax, his arms falling slack and the tension bleeding from his body. He sank into the mattress, still holding James's gaze, and gave him a tiny smile.

But he didn't speak.

"Better," murmured James. He finished dressing, and as he straightened his tie, he sauntered over to the bed. He reached out to touch Malfoy's tousled hair, the blond strands soft and light against his fingers. He pushed it off Malfoy's forehead, oddly pleased to find it damp at his temples, and then let his fingers trail down Malfoy's cheek and jaw. He leaned down, brushing a light kiss over Malfoy's lips. "Scorpius," he breathed, knowing that using his given name at moments like this never failed to make Malfoy's toes curl. "I asked you to do something, and I offered you a reward if you did it, but you didn't do it."

He pulled back a bit to look into Malfoy's eyes, surprised to find that Malfoy didn't look annoyed or defensive, but rather... crestfallen. He wondered how far to push this. It was a bit of fun, but he didn't want Malfoy to get so pissed off at him that he never let James touch him again. Anything but that, really. But the rush he'd felt at gazing down at Malfoy trapped underneath him, bound and hard and trying not to moan just because James had told him not to... that hadn't just been a bit of fun. That had been something else, something he couldn't name. And the spark he'd seen in Malfoy's eyes as he stayed silent, watching James pleasure himself... that wasn't just a bit of fun, either. Malfoy had meant to obey. Malfoy had wanted to obey. James shivered.

And now, Malfoy looked absolutely anguished, and not just from his blue balls. "Sorry, mate," said James, rising up again and sighing. "I hate to do this, but a rule's a rule. If I don't follow through, how will you ever learn?" He flashed a smile at that, placing Malfoy's wand on his chest out of pity. Then he picked up his book bag, sparing one last glance at Malfoy over his shoulder. God, he was still so fucking gorgeous, tied to the headboard, his chest heaving and spattered with come, his pants stretched tight over his fat prick. It took everything James had to walk away.

As he got to the door, he couldn't believe Malfoy still wasn't shouting and flailing at him. He looked back one last time. Malfoy was watching him like a hawk, his jaw set. James couldn't read the look on his face. It could be anywhere from sad to murderous, really, who could know? James hoped he wasn't making the biggest mistake of his life.

***

"Pass the eggs. I'm starving. Hey. Earth to James."

James put his fork down and glanced to his right. "What?"

"I am about to vomit from starvation, seriously, and you don't even care. Why am I not surprised. Here." Al made to climb up on the table himself to reach for the platter of scrambled eggs, but Lily stopped him with a tug to his sleeve.

"Barbarian," she muttered, grabbing the platter herself and shoving it at him.

Al ignored her but took the plate, scooping half of it onto his own. "What's your problem?" he asked James, craning his neck to follow his gaze.

James elbowed him in the ribs, focusing back on his own plate again.

Al kept looking over at the other tables. Finally, he sighed, redirecting his energies towards shovelling his food in. "Malfoy again?"

"No," said James reflexively.

Lily snorted.

"I thought that was just a thing," continued Al, bits of food flying out of his mouth. "Over with now."

"Yeah, it was. It is." James looked back at the Slytherin table again. Something was going on. Malfoy was just where he always was, but his House mates were making a big deal about something, waving their hands in his face and looking exasperated.

"Because you know you can do better, right?"

Some of the girls were looking worried, exchanging glances before turning to hover over Malfoy again. The boys were elbowing him and rolling their eyes. James turned back to Al. "What?"

Al sighed. "Okay, so, it's not over, clearly."

James shrugged. "He's... convenient."

"You're aware that basically anyone in this school would make themselves convenient for you if you expressed any interest whatsoever, right? But they don't, because you've always got your hands down Malfoy's trousers. Or look like you want to, at any rate."

Lily gave a delighted laugh. James glared at her. "It's true," she said with a pout.

"So what if it is," he said, distracted. "Hey, what do you think they're doing over there?"

Al and Lily followed his gaze to the Slytherins. They were laughing and jeering at Malfoy now, but he just rose, gave a slight bow, and walked away without saying anything. He caught James's eye for a brief moment and lifted his chin. James could have sworn he was hiding a smile, but maybe that was wishful thinking.

Al shrugged. "Throwing eggs on him for having a Gryffindor boyfriend? I don't know."

James whirled back around. "He doesn't get a hard time about that, does he? What do they say in your year?"

Al just rolled his eyes, shoving more food into his mouth. Lily glanced between them for a moment, then rose and grabbed her bag.

"I'm late," she announced. She swatted Al on the back of the head as she passed behind him, but she stopped at James, leaning one hand into the back of his chair. "They say he's the luckiest boy at school, you idiot," she said to him. "He'd do anything for you."

James felt his face colour. He hadn't really explained things to his family yet. Al and Lily gossiped like the rest of the school, and his parents' letters asked vague questions while promising openness and understanding if there was ever anything he wanted to talk about, but he hadn't bothered. It wasn't that he was scared to tell them, or worried about their reaction, or anything like that. It was more that he couldn't define it himself, this thing he had with Malfoy. It had flared to life out of nothing, the usual hallway insults turning heated when they'd found themselves alone in detention one night, until the next thing James knew, they were rubbing up against each other and James was almost biting through Malfoy's collarbone as he came in a rush against his thigh. Now he could barely get through the day without Malfoy taking over his thoughts.

"Well," he said gruffly, turning so Lily couldn't see his face. "Good."

Anything for him? That was both tantalising and terrifying at the same time.

***

By lunch, everyone was talking about it: there was something wrong with Malfoy. He'd just stopped speaking.

"He what?" James had his fork in the air when Al said it, and it stayed there until a bit of potato dropped back down to the plate.

Al shrugged. "You wanted to know what they're saying, so there it is. Malfoy's got some sort of mystery illness now where he can't speak. Marla Collins is hysterical; thinks he needs the hospital wing, but you know her: she'll tell anyone who'll listen that her mother and Malfoy's have already planned their engagement."

Fucking Marla Collins. James waved his hand, impatient. "Is he sick?"

Al looked put out. "Go ask him, lover boy. I'm not your owl."

Grimacing, James pushed his chair out, making a show of falling over into Al as he rose. "Oh, sorry, didn't see you there."

Al punched him in the arm; he ducked away, grinning. All right, might as well ask. Al was right about that. What did he have to worry about? Well. Leaving Malfoy tied up and hard as a rock in the Room of Requirement the night before might be a reason to worry. He might very well hex James's bits off if he got too close.

"Slytherins," he said, nodding at them in greeting as he approached the table. Malfoy turned toward him, but his expression was neutral. James pressed on. "I trust all is well in your delusional corner of the world?" That got him a few eye rolls, but nothing too problematic. To hear his parents tell it, twenty years ago a Gryffindor would never even think of approaching the Slytherin table if he wanted to leave the encounter alive.

"What did you do to Scorpius, Potter?" one of them called, an amused expression on his face. "Yesterday we couldn't shut him up, like usual, and today he's turned monk."

James put his hands in his pockets, glancing down at Malfoy. "Monk?" he said softly. "That's a pity."

Malfoy almost smiled.

"That true, Malfoy?" he continued, louder for the benefit of the group. "Cat got your tongue?"

Malfoy just gave an innocent shrug, spreading his hands. He held James's gaze, though, and his eyes were fierce.

"He's right," James added, lowering his voice for Malfoy's ears. "Couldn't shut you up yesterday. I wonder what changed."

Malfoy just held that loaded gaze.

"Haven't spoken a word since, when – last night?"

Malfoy shook his head.

"To anyone?"

Another shake.

James considered his next move. This couldn't possibly be what he thought it was. Could it? He leaned down close to murmur in Malfoy's ear. "Because you were told not to?" He rose up enough to watch Malfoy's response.

Slowly, as if he couldn't help himself, Malfoy's face melted into a sheepish smile. He pulled his lower lip under his teeth, his face flushing as he tried to school his features back into a neutral expression. Finally, he nodded.

James nearly climbed into his lap right there.

Instead, he only stared, his hands trembling and his mind racing. He became aware of a few of the other Slytherins shifting their feet and murmuring around him. Fuck them. Something was happening here. He wasn't sure what it was, but it was important. Malfoy was a mouthy pain in the arse. For Malfoy to stop being a mouthy pain in the arse, to spend an entire day with his mouth shut just because James had asked him to, it just... Malfoy was giving him something here, putting himself on the line.

Realising all the Slytherin eyes were on him, whispers circling around him and Malfoy, James grasped Malfoy's arm. "Come here," he muttered. Malfoy stumbled briefly and bit down over a squawk of protest before it became words, following James to the corner of the Great Hall. James looked at him expectantly at the near-shout, but Malfoy only cleared his throat and made a locking gesture across his mouth, sliding two fingers across his lips and then turning an imaginary key.

He smirked.

James had to stop himself from kissing that smug look off his face. "You serious about this?" he said instead. "You'll end up with about eight detentions by the end of the day, and then you won't even be around for your reward." He stood back, folding his arms over his chest and regarding Malfoy.

Malfoy pressed his lips together for a moment, looking frustrated, before digging in his bag for an inked quill and some parchment. Tell me what my reward is, and I'll make sure I don't get detention, he wrote.

James leaned in close. "That mouth of yours was born to just look pretty and stay quiet, wasn't it?"

Malfoy narrowed his eyes, the quill twitching in his hand.

Grinning, James nudged Malfoy's shoulder with his. "All right, then, just because I don't actually think you can do it: if you stay like this till after dinner, I'll do what you've been asking for."

The colour seemed to drain from Malfoy's face and then rush right back in. What the little slag had been asking for lately was James's cock up his arse, but James wasn't about to do something like that in a broom cupboard or in less than ten minutes in the Room of Requirement, which was all they'd had lately, so he'd put Malfoy off. Bringing it up now was a horrible idea, though, because the way Malfoy's lips had parted, and the way he was gazing at James with pure heat in his eyes, well, it wasn't going to make for a pleasant afternoon in class, that was for sure.

He added something else on a whim. "You can say one word in response to that." He gave Malfoy a sly smile. He should know by now not to try to get one over on Malfoy, though, because if he thought Malfoy would jump up and down screaming YES, he was wrong.

Malfoy stepped closer and touched James's arm, clearly not even caring who was watching. His fingers rubbed softly over James's skin, and it was just an arm for God's sake, but the tiny touch drove straight to his cock. Then, Malfoy wet his lips and brought his mouth close to James's ear, whispering one slow word. "James."

He made it sound like he was having an orgasm right then, and James had to close his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, Malfoy's tongue was curling over his bottom lip and he was grinning in triumph. He turned and sauntered away.

James checked his watch. This was going to be the longest afternoon ever.

***

After dinner, they barely made it to the Room of Requirement before James slammed Malfoy up against the wall, kissing him fiercely. He tugged at Malfoy's hair and angled his face just right, Malfoy's lips hungry against his. Silence be damned, the little gasps and moans Malfoy made told James everything. He tugged at his tie, loosening it while only barely lifting his mouth from Malfoy's.

"You did it," he muttered. "You fucking did it. I can't believe it."

Malfoy only grinned at him, his full lips pink and wet. He hooked his fingers into James's belt and pulled him close again, unfastening it as James threw his tie aside. James had both their shirts half off, dangling from their arms, and their trousers nearly pushed down, and Malfoy still hadn't actually said any words. He wondered if Malfoy was really going to wait until James said he could.

"So," ventured James, suddenly uncertain. He slowed down, pressing his forehead against Malfoy's. "Reward time?"

In response, Malfoy leaned in and kissed him again. His face was flushed and his heart was pounding. When he pulled back, he moved away and finished kicking off his clothes, dropping his shirt from his arm as the last piece of clothing. He glanced at James over his shoulder, and then walked over to the bed. His cock was thick and full, bobbing in front of him as he crawled onto the bed and lay down on his stomach, resting on his elbows.

Every nerve ending in James's body lit up like a Christmas tree. His fingertips tingled; his knees buckled; and his eyes nearly crossed. Malfoy was so fucking beautiful, lying there waiting for James to come ravage him. "You can talk now," called James, barely holding his own trousers up with one hand while he looked over at Malfoy.

Malfoy just raised an eyebrow.

"No, seriously."

Malfoy, the bastard, seemed to be enjoying this game just a little too much. He grinned, but still said nothing.

"Malfoy, come on." James looked away, running his hand through his hair. "It's just– Lily said you'd do anything I asked. That everyone thinks so."

That did the trick. "What the fuck does Lily know?" Malfoy's face creased in irritation.

"Is it true?"

"Is what true?"

"Just, this." James gestured between them. "I told you not to talk for five minutes while we fuck, so you take that to mean you shouldn't say a word to anyone all day?"

"I don't do anything I don't want to do!" Malfoy sat up, covering himself with a pillow. "So fuck you, and fuck your sister."

"Hey!"

"I did it because I wanted to, you idiot," Malfoy bit out. "You didn't think I could do it, so I just showed you I could." He narrowed his eyes. "I like proving you wrong, that's all. Tell your sister that."

James regarded him for a long moment. "Scorp?" he murmured at last, watching Malfoy relax a bit at the name. It was just between the two of them, something that had come out one night in the middle of James's orgasm and had stuck with them. Malfoy always came undone a little bit whenever James said it, so he tried to keep it to himself.

"Yeah?"

James pushed his shirt the rest of the way off and pulled his tie over his head. When he was sure he had Malfoy's attention, he kicked his trousers off, too, and everything else. He moved over to the bed and climbed up, nudging Malfoy to lie down again and then kneeling over the backs of his thighs. On his stomach again, Malfoy turned his head to the side and gave a deep, shuddering sigh at the contact. "I guess you proved me wrong," he murmured over Malfoy's back. "Are you mad about last night?"

He shrugged. "I broke the rules. Isn't that what you said?"

"Yeah, but I wasn't– I didn't–" James frowned. "Since when do you ever go for rules?" he tried instead.

"Since I saw what making them up does to you." His mouth curved into a smile.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Are you going to fuck me or what?"

James groaned before he could stop himself. He Summoned the lube and knelt over Malfoy's thighs again. They were already good at this part; Malfoy hardly ever let James swallow his cock without also putting his fingers to good use. "Quiet," James murmured. "Not a fucking word." If Malfoy liked rules, then okay, James could give him that.

Malfoy glanced over his shoulder, sucking in a breath when James's fingers began to breach him. He nodded, lifting himself up on his hands and knees as James worked him on his fingers. This was an entirely new level of intimacy for them, not just being naked and doing more to each other than they'd ever done before, but this other thing. Part of James missed Malfoy's constant chatter while they did this, tackling him to the bed and pinning him just to shut him up. But another part of him could see that it wasn't up to him and it never had been. James might be giving the orders, but Malfoy was calling all the shots.

James slid his oiled hand over his cock and shuffled forward, his free hand smoothing up Malfoy's thigh. Malfoy took that as a signal to spread his knees further apart, and James groaned when he did. His blond hair curled around his ears, and his muscled back stretched out underneath James, and James's hands began to tremble. He touched his dick, guiding it to Malfoy's entrance and pausing to nudge at him.

Malfoy's spine broke out in gooseflesh, and he looked back over his shoulder again, waiting.

It was so fucking quiet. James would swear he could hear his own heartbeat echoing around the room. Slowly, he began to push forward, Malfoy's body opening underneath him. Malfoy winced and his back flexed, and then he didn't move. James worked himself in bit by bit, his eyes glued to Malfoy's body. Holy fuck. The silence pounded at him until he couldn't bear it anymore.

"Say something," James whispered, almost begging. "Scorp. Fuck. Are you okay?"

The response came immediately. "Oh God," Malfoy sobbed, his voice thick with emotion. "James. I can't–"

"Okay? Do you want me to–"

"No. Stay still. I– oh God. It fucking hurts, but I don't want you to stop." Malfoy glanced over his shoulder, his lips parted as he panted, but a small smile underneath it. "Does that make me mad?"

"I don't know." James looked down again, watching his cock inch into Malfoy's body, his hand smoothing over Malfoy's lower back as he arched to take James in. "Don't stop talking," he murmured. "Tell me everything."

Malfoy definitely gave him a grin at that. "I knew it."

James slapped him lightly on the hip, and Malfoy laughed, a deep sound that quickly turned into a groan as James slipped deeper inside him. He was only about halfway in, but fuck it, this was enough. Malfoy felt incredible, hot and tight around him, and he didn't want to hurt him. This was already a hell of a thing to let a bloke do to you, James figured. Maybe next time he'd be able to get further. He pulled out a little, slowing at Malfoy's hiss, and then pushed back in.

Malfoy unravelled. He dropped to his elbows and shoved his arse back, and fuck, James was nearly done for. The expanse of Malfoy's back was gorgeous, flexing and tense, and the way he was grinding his hips back was making James dizzy.

"Not so fast," said James, trying to keep control, but Malfoy dropped his head between his shoulders and kept making those encouraging motions with his hips.

"It's okay," mumbled Malfoy. "I want you to." He didn't look back, though, and the words were almost lost amidst the pillows. James felt a sear of heat at hearing them, hearing Malfoy begging to be fucked. After another moment, with James concentrating everything he had on not coming yet, on making Malfoy feel good enough to let him do this again sometime, Malfoy muttered something else. James smoothed his hand up Malfoy's back and curled it around his shoulder, leaning in.

"Okay?" he whispered. "What did you say?"

But Malfoy just shook his head, tensing suddenly.

"Malfoy." James paused, desperately trying to hold himself still. "What did you fucking say? If it's too much, fucking tell me, all right? I'm not the one with a dick up my arse. I don't know if it's too much."

"I said, give me an order."

James blinked. His hands fell still over Malfoy's tailbone. Malfoy whipped his head around, his eyes wild as he glared at James. His face was flushed with exertion and, fuck, embarrassment, James figured, but he was holding firm. A small surge pulsed up James's dick, and he swayed. "What?"

Malfoy buried his face in the pillow again, half moaning, half laughing. "Oh my God. I can't believe I'm saying this. Tell me to do something, you prick. Now." He was shaking, James could see it now, panting and trembling underneath him, and all of a sudden it hit James like a ton of bricks, exactly what had got Malfoy so turned on in the first place.

"Shut your mouth," he said experimentally, smacking Malfoy's hip again.

"Not that." Malfoy turned to glare at him again, exasperated. "We already did that one."

"Well, what one do you want?"

"You're supposed to decide!"

"Why me?"

"Because, you just are." Malfoy groaned again, dropping his head forward once more, and James realised he'd shoved in even further as they argued. His prick was almost entirely inside Malfoy now, and God, the sight of Malfoy's rim stretched around him was making his head spin.

"Take my cock," James breathed, and when Malfoy let out a whimper, he figured he'd landed on the right thing. "Stay down," he continued, his voice shaking, "and take every fucking inch of it, you little slag."

Malfoy clutched at the sheets, his arse grinding back on James's prick. Holy fuck. Even as the words came out of his mouth they were shooting straight to his dick, making it even harder than it already was. Malfoy's reaction was driving him mad.

"Don't look at me, don't argue with me, and don't fucking tell me what to do." He pushed in that last inch, gripping Malfoy's hips and pulling him back until his arse was flush against James's pelvis. He thought his entire body would explode with the sharp pleasure of it. Experimentally, he pressed his palm between Malfoy's shoulder blades. "If it's not okay, you bang on the headboard three times," he added. "Otherwise, I'm going to fuck you as hard as I can, and you're not allowed to do anything about it. Got that?"

Malfoy was a mess. He nodded frantically without turning around, as instructed, and James felt something like pride burst through him. Fucking hell, he could say anything he wanted right now, and Malfoy would do it. Malfoy wanted to do it.

James withdrew, letting his prick slide out as slowly as he could without triggering his own orgasm, and then pushed back in, as hard as he could. Malfoy grunted but took it, his arms shaking where they held him up. No protest. James's dick began to ache. He did it again. And again. On the third slam back in, a small voice rose up.

"Stop," it whimpered. "You brute."

James froze. "What?"

"No, stop," Malfoy moaned again. "You're so big. Can't take it."

James panicked, pulling out all at once. "Oh God. Fuck. You okay?"

Malfoy whirled around, his eyes wild. "Why'd you stop? Oh my God, get back in." He threw himself down on his stomach again before pushing his arse up. "I was so close."

"You told me to stop!"

"Did I bang on the fucking headboard?"

James's mouth hung open.

"Get– back– in–" Malfoy turned and wrestled with James's prick, grasping it in his fist and hauling it between his legs.

"Ow! Fuck." He fell forward, trapping Malfoy underneath him.

"Potter, you fucking idiot. I swear to God–"

James lined up and pushed back in just to shut him up. Already stretched and lubed, Malfoy took him in much easier this time, and James slid in almost to the root before stopping, his fingers tight around Malfoy's hips. With a long, low moan, Malfoy seemed to be content again, working one hand underneath himself to tug at his own cock.

"I said," Malfoy repeated, his jaw clenched, "stop, Potter. How dare you?" He said it differently this time, his voice pitched higher and his arse very clearly pressing back to get James's cock in deeper. Oh. Oh. James blinked.

"Take it," James growled as an experiment, pressing him down to the mattress again and shoving his dick in hard.

Malfoy whimpered again, arching his back. "No," he protested weakly, his voice still a mockery of a damsel in distress. "I can't."

James's body surged with arousal. "This is what you get for being such a princess all day, making everyone all worried about you. Oh, is the princess okay?" he mocked, raising the pitch of his voice to match Malfoy's. "He hasn't said a word, poor lamb. Maybe we should call his father. Is that what you wanted, Malfoy?" he added, his voice dropping to a low grunt. "Getting everyone involved in our business? Getting your father involved? How would you explain this to him? Huh? Answer me!"

"No, it's not what I wanted," Malfoy moaned. "I don't want this at all! You can't just push me down and fuck me like this. I'll tell your father, Potter. I'll have the Aurors on you! This is– this is– assault."

Heat seared up James's spine. Fuck. He had no idea Malfoy could play like this. Or that he could himself. Or that they'd want to. This wasn't blow jobs in a broom cupboard anymore. He didn't know what this was, but it was very different, and he never wanted to go back to whatever they'd been doing before. This was fucking incredible. His dick was so hard it ached. He didn't think he could hold off much longer. "What are the Aurors going to do?" he panted, fucking Malfoy fiercely now. "They'll take one look at you and see what a slag you are. Maybe they'll each take a turn with you themselves, ever think of that? Spread you out and–"

With a long, low groan, Malfoy came. Malfoy came, at that fucking moment, from what James had just said. Oh fuck. Oh God. "James," he sobbed, his trembling arms barely holding him up as James grabbed his hips and drove in deep.

"Scorp, God, just a sec– have to–" He couldn't hold on a moment longer. He ground himself deep inside Malfoy and felt that rush, his dick spurting and pulsing and white heat racing through his body.

They fell to the bed together in a tangle, panting and swearing. After a moment, Malfoy started laughing, covering his face with one hand and kicking at James's shins. "Oh my God," he moaned.

James could barely formulate a coherent thought. "Yeah," he panted, glancing over. Malfoy caught his eye and grinned.

They lay there for a long time, sprawled together in comfortable silence, before Malfoy spoke again. "Hey."

"Yeah?"

"I just–"

"I know. Do you think I–"

"Don't think I'm going to let you–"

"I'm not! Like I'm going to walk into Potions and tell you what to–"

"You better not."

"I won't! God."

"I'm not your slave or anything."

"Yeah, well, we'll see about that."

"Potter."

James grinned, rolling over and trapping Malfoy underneath him. His lips brushed against Malfoy's neck, eliciting the most delicious sounds, as Malfoy's hands slid up his back and shoulders. "Shut up, Malfoy," he murmured, biting at Malfoy's jaw. "Anyone ever tell you that you talk too much?"


-fin-