The Reason For Polyjuice

I wrote this story for my girlfriend, aki-hoshi, for her birthday.  I’m sooo surprised that I actually got it done on time, but I’m also very glad that I get to give this to you today.  I love you more than you could ever imagine and I really hope you enjoy it.  Hugs and kisses as always (though today I think it’s okay to smother you with them!) and I hope you have a great day.

Summary: Harry walks in on Malfoy doing something he never expected to see. 
Rating: NC-17/Mature
Characters: Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy
Word Count: 8,495
Betas: Michelle and Pandoras_chaos
Warnings: SLASH (M/M), Sexual Content, Adult Situations, Strong Language, PWP (of a sort).
Disclaimer: The Harry Potter world and all related characters do not belong to me, unfortunately.  I simply amuse myself by borrowing them.  All characters used within this story are of legal age.





When Harry walked into the empty Quidditch showers and saw himself kneeling on the slick tiles before a half-naked, disheveled blond, mouth wrapped around a reddened cock, he choked. 

The only reason he had come into the room was because he had been certain that it would be abandoned this late after practice, and he preferred to stay away from groups of people if he could because he didn’t like being stared at.  He had stayed on the pitch for an hour after everyone else had left to shower and change, relishing the silence and freedom he found while flying.  He also used that time to brush up on his skills; his last year at school (well, not at school per se, because of the war) had left him out of practice and now that he was playing professionally, he needed to perfect his maneuvers and flying as soon as possible.  Despite being the youngest seeker in a century at Hogwarts, and one of the best in the last few years, he couldn’t hold a candle to the pros and it showed. 

He didn’t want to be just a namesake for the team; he wanted to play and he wanted to do it well. 

Of course, when he joined the Cannons, he hadn’t realised that Draco Malfoy would be joining as well.  Since Harry was the new reserve Seeker, Malfoy had been hired on as the reserve Chaser, and Harry did all he could not to notice just how skilled the blond was at the position. 

Harry’s reason for joining the Chudley Cannons was partially because it was Ron’s favorite team, but also because they needed the most work and could benefit the most from having Harry play.  Harry often wondered why Malfoy had chosen the Cannons, but rumor had it that because of his father, he couldn’t find a job elsewhere, and no other team was willing to give him a chance.  The Cannons needed all the help they could get, even if it was from a Death Eater’s son. 

Harry had also chosen to play Quidditch because he couldn’t find a job elsewhere, or at least not one that didn’t want him solely because of his name (even without finishing his final year of school). 

Harry could figure all these things out, but still staring at the scene playing in front of him, he couldn’t figure out why the hell the not-him was giving Malfoy a blowjob. 

Snapping himself out of his shock, he bellowed at the top of his voice, “What the fuck is going on?!”

The not-Harry’s head whipped around to look at him, but Malfoy didn’t even bother to turn, instead letting out a sigh of disappointment as the warm mouth left his cock bobbing unattended in the air. 

The not-Harry scrambled to his feet, quickly wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before hurrying past Harry and out of the locker room. 

Still slightly stunned at the entire situation, Harry continued to look at Malfoy, whose arms were baring a smooth, toned abdomen: his Quidditch uniform shirt held halfway up his chest and his flying trousers tangled up at his ankles.  

Finally, the blond turned his head to look at Harry, letting out another small sigh before plastering his trademark smirk on his face.  “Well, are you just going to stand there?”

And Harry sure as hell was not.  Turning quickly on his heels, he hurried out the door just as the not-Harry had done. 

~~~~~ 

Sitting at home in his apartment, the scene from earlier that evening haunted Harry.  He couldn’t seem to get the image out of his head, with Malfoy standing there in the locker room, slightly panting but still managing to look nonchalant, as someone polyjuiced as Harry sucked his cock. 

Harry knew that polyjuice potion wasn’t illegal, but he was under the impression that was hard to obtain and extremely expensive if someone didn’t want to take the time and effort to make it themselves.  He also would have liked to think that no one would have been able to get a hair from him to use in the potion, but just looking at the locker rooms alone, changing and showering after Quidditch practice would have left stray hairs behind daily. 

What he really wanted to know though was why Malfoy had been having sex with a Polyjuiced version of himself. 

It made absolutely no sense, but it wasn’t like Harry was going to go ask the blond anytime soon.  While they hadn’t fought once during the few months they had been with the Cannons, they had also barely spent any time within even twenty yards of each other.  The Chasers and Seekers practiced on separate ends of the pitch during drills, and even during mock games they rarely came into contact while flying.

In all, the two men could avoid each other for the most part, and that had suited Harry just fine. 

Now though, he had this new image of Malfoy in his head, and for the first time since joining the team, Harry dreaded going to practice the next day. 

~~~~~

When Harry woke up in the morning, he had completely forgotten about the incident of the previous night.  It wasn’t until he was stepping out of the shower, dripping water on the pale cream tiles of his loo floor, that he flashed back to the not-Harry kneeling in similar puddles in the Quidditch locker room. 

He groaned to himself, remembering why he had had such a hard time falling asleep the night before, and now he had to go to practice, tired and cranky and only to face Malfoy. Suddenly not caring about taking the effort to get ready, he dried off quickly and tied the towel around his waist.  Taking a moment to run a comb through his ear-length hair, he did a quick shaving charm and brushed his teeth. 

He needed to run some errands this morning and then he was supposed to meet Ron and Hermione for lunch before practice.  He was grateful that it was still the off-season, so that practices didn’t start until mid-afternoon. Soon, however, a few weeks before the season began, they would move to morning sessions, because most games were midday. 

Changing into a pair of comfortable jeans and a plain green t-shirt, he grabbed a light jacket just in case it was rainy again.  The early summer months had been cool thus far, and wetter than characteristic even for England.  Adjusting his glasses on his nose so that he wouldn’t lose them while traveling, he picked up his wand and flicked it to Apparate. 

He landed in Diagon Alley next to Gringott’s.  He had brought enough money with him that he didn’t need to worry about going to his vault that morning, which would save him at least an hour because the Goblins were sticklers for paperwork.  It was already closing in on ten o’clock, and he wanted to be done shopping before meeting his friends at noon.

His first stop was the post office because he needed to send a letter to Andromeda, Teddy’s grandmother.  He would have used his own, had he owned one, but it was still too fresh a wound for him to replace Hedwig.  He would be visiting his godson the next week, and he wanted to make sure that the day was okay with his guardian. 

It only took him a few minutes to post the letter, and once he was done he headed off to the Quality Quidditch Supply nearby.  He intended to pick up a new broom servicing kit because his was worn, and he was out of handle wax.  He didn’t want to get splinters in his arse if he could help it. 

Thankfully, it was a Wednesday, and Diagon Alley was fairly dead mid-morning.  Most people were at work, which was just as well because Harry hated how people stared at him after the end of the war.

When he walked into the shop, the bell on the door jingled, letting the owner know a customer had entered.  He didn’t see any other witches or wizards in the store, and Harry was glad that he wouldn’t have to fend anyone off. 

He walked over to the far wall, taking a quick look at the kits on the shelves before picking out the same one he already owned.  It did a decent job, and while it wasn’t the best one out there, he knew he could rely on the steady quality.  As he walked up to the counter to pay, he passed a display of Quidditch gloves and decided that he needed a new pair.  His were quite worn, and the index finger on his left glove had a small hole.

Looking at the brands displayed, he couldn’t decide which pair to buy.  Glancing at the signs, he finally picked a pair that claimed to improve the player’s grip.  They were black and grey, which would go well with his Cannons uniform.

Harry took his kit and the pair of gloves up to the front counter where the owner of the store was waiting.  Out of habit, he didn’t make eye contact with the older man, having noticed in the past that if he didn’t, people were less likely to talk to him. 

“Will that be all?” the elderly voice asked. 

Harry just nodded his head and watched the man slide his purchases into a plastic bag with the store’s logo printed on the side.  “Thank you,” he said as he handed over the correct amount of coins to pay for his items and took the bag from the man.  With just another quick nod, he walked out of the store.

Harry still needed to go buy a bag of floo powder because he was out, but he was distracted by the entrance to Knockturn Alley, next to another storefront across the street and down one shop from where he was standing in front of QQS.  A sudden idea popped into his head.

Though he had tried to avoid thinking about the Malfoy incident of the previous day, he was curious to find out where someone could buy Polyjuice potion.  Before he could convince himself not to, he was already strolling down the dank and narrow road leading to Knockturn.

From past experience, he knew that there were a few questionable apothecaries located on this end of town, but he wasn’t sure where to start.  Deciding to just walk and see what he could find, he started off down the street, avoiding the smelly figures with their hoods up standing on corners and an old hag trying to sell him a beauty potion, which she obviously didn’t use.  Two blocks later, he came across a faded sign for “Sculper’s Apothecary” hanging on the front of a shop with windows so dirty that he couldn’t even see into the store. 

A little wary, but also wanting to know about the potion, he pushed through the battered front door and into the shop.  Immediately, his senses were overwhelmed by the smell of dried herbs, potions, and something much less savory.  Harry wrinkled his nose at the smell, hoping that someone would be around to help him so he wouldn’t have to stay in the store longer than necessary.

His luck was in, and a wrinkled old woman was standing behind a counter so dusty that Harry wasn’t even sure he wanted to know what was beneath the layer.  He was glad he wasn’t wearing his robes, because he was sure he didn’t want his clothing to brush against anything in the shop. 

“Excuse me, m’am, but I have a question about a potion.”

The woman looked at Harry like he was an idiot, so he continued before he could get on her bad side, assuming she was ever any happier than what he was seeing right now.  “I’m looking for Polyjuice potion.”

Immediately, the old woman seemed to perk up, and she opened her mouth in what could be considered a smile, though it was missing far too many teeth to be even remotely appealing.  In a gravelly voice, she said, “It’s not cheap.”

He nodded his head that he already knew.  It was common knowledge that powdered bicorn horn was difficult to obtain after the war; the Ministry had put restrictions on who could purchase it because the influx of potion orders the previous year had put a serious dent in the bicorn population.

“I do happen to have a couple vials, but I don’t sell them to just anyone,” she told him.

Before he could stop himself, he said, “I have experience.”

Her eyebrows jumped up at this confession, and for a brief moment a look that might have counted as impressed crossed her wrinkles.  Harry just hoped that she didn’t recognize who he was, or at least say anything to anyone else.  Wanting to get what he came for and leave as quickly as possible, he asked her, “Are you willing to sell me a vial?”

The woman pursed her mouth, which created even more wrinkles around the deep-set ones of her chapped lips, and she made a sound that Harry took to mean “yes.”  She walked away from the counter and disappeared behind an old faded damask curtain covering a doorway in the wall.  A few moments later, she came back out, carrying a small dusty vial that looked like it was filled with mud.  Briefly flashing back to his previous experience with the potion, he knew it wouldn’t change into its final form until the hair was added. 

She pulled a ratty piece of black velvet from underneath the counter and placed the vial gently on it.  “That will be forty-six galleons.”  She smiled again, and Harry tried not to stare at the remaining brown-tinted teeth. 

He reached into his pocket and pulled out his bottomless money pouch.  He grabbed a large handful of galleons, setting them on the counter so that he could count them.  He had to reach back into his bag two more times to finally get the right amount, but the woman seemed satisfied once he handed the payment over.

She quickly wrapped up the vial in the velvet, her hands moving deftly for someone with so many years.  She reached back under the counter and pulled out a small, plain, wooden box and opened the lid, placing the velvet-wrapped vial into the container.  Snapping the cover shut, she snatched a piece of twine off the counter next to the register and tied the box securely closed.  Once she was finished, she handed the box to Harry.

“Pleasure doing business with you,” she told him, and just like with the shopkeeper at Quality Quidditch Supply, he tossed her a small nod and walked out of the store as quickly as he could, glad to be rid of the stench. 

~~~~~

Lunch with Ron and Hermione had gone well, though it usually did.  The couple now lived in a small house near Ron’s parents in Ottery St. Catchpole, and both of them worked at the Ministry of Magic.  The conversation had consisted of mostly wedding plans for the two, for even though the wedding was still four months away, they could do nothing but talk about it.

Not that Harry minded, because he was happy for his best friends, though he dreaded having to see Ginny anytime soon, especially at the wedding.  It wasn’t that they didn’t get along, but ever since the end of the war (which, he kept reminding himself, had only been few months before), Harry had been reluctant to get back together with the redhead.  So much had changed, and after being away from her for almost the entire year previous, he wasn’t sure that he could go back to that carefree, teenage relationship.  He really didn’t believe that there would be any way he could be with her without constantly being reminded of how things used to be… before Dobby and Hedwig and Lupin and Tonks and Fred and the final battle.  Even when he saw Ron he was occasionally reminded by his bright red hair of the twin that didn’t survive. 

Part of Harry knew that it would just be easier to move on and leave that part of his past behind, and occasional mentions from Ron and Hermione confirmed his feelings.  Ginny had more than her fair share of attention from boys, though Ron wasn’t very happy about it. 

Now that Harry was back home, he took the small, wooden box from his QQS bag and placed it on a shelf in his bedroom before tossing his other purchases onto his bed.  He wasn’t sure what he was going to do with the potion, and it was honestly a waste of money, but at least he knew how Malfoy had gotten it, and that it had been much easier than he had anticipated. 

Not wanting to dwell on the situation, he quickly changed into his Quidditch uniform, wanting to avoid the locker room at the pitch for obvious reasons.  He switched out his old broom kit with the new one, also swapping his gloves, and gathered his bag before Apparating to the stadium.

~~~~~

Practice had gone surprisingly well, mostly because the day was spent going over different maneuvers with the team members.  Harry and the main Seeker had been on the far end of the pitch, practicing everything from dives to Wronski Feints.  The hours flew by, and Harry didn’t even have to look at Malfoy once, unless he counted the occasional flashes of blond hair in the air as the Quaffle was tossed back and forth across the pitch.

Exhausted, partially because of the lack of sleep the previous night, Harry flopped down onto his couch, still in his practice uniform.  Again, he had avoided the locker room.  He pulled off his gloves and tossed them onto his bag on the floor, fingers slightly stiff because the fabric hadn’t been broken in yet.  With his robe unbuttoned, he relaxed back onto the soft cushion and propped his booted feet up onto the low, wooden table in front of the sofa. 

Without even realizing what his hands were doing, Harry unbuttoned his flying trousers and slid a hand into the opening.  He was already lazily stroking himself, could feel the hardness under his hand through his pants, when he noticed.

Slightly embarrassed, he pulled his hand out.  Then, he reasoned with himself on why that was stupid, because it wasn’t like he was living in the dorms anymore.  He was alone, in his own apartment, and he could do as he pleased, though he still wasn’t used to such freedom.

He immediately snaked his hand back under the tight, black fabric, palming himself over his pants.  It had been far too long since he had taken this type of pleasure with himself, and it seemed obvious that his cock knew as well. 

He started to rub his hand lightly over his shaft, but the tightness of his flying trousers restricted the movement too much for it to do much good.  He pulled his hand out again and helped shimmy the fabric down his legs to his calves, placing his feet back on the floor for balance.  Then, he leaned back into the cushion to more comfortably continue what he had started.

He was in no hurry to finish this, so instead of pulling down the cotton of his pants, he continued to rub himself over the fabric.  Ghosting his fingertips up and down his length, he could feel the slide of the cotton against himself, just enough texture to be tantalizing, and a wet spot was starting to form near the waistband.  He reached down to cup his balls, fondling the sensitive skin through the fabric. 

Reaching back up to his cock, he slowly pulled the waistband of his pants halfway down, letting it rest a few inches below the head and trapping his length in place.  He ran a finger over the tip, smearing the pre-come up and over the head.  Touching his index finger and thumb together, he wrapped the vice around his length just below the head, squeezing gently. 

He didn’t even notice the small moan escape his mouth as he started to massage his cock, occasionally bringing his finger and thumb straight up the tip to gather more pre-come.  For a few minutes, the brunet did nothing but tease himself, keeping the pace steady and his grip somewhat slack so that he wouldn’t get too close to coming. 

It didn’t take long for him to tire of the game though, and he let go of his cock to grab the waistband of his pants and stretch it down, tucking it behind his sac.  The pressure was delightful and it pulled his balls up against the base of his shaft, making the skin taut.

Now he had full access and he immediately grasped his prick, squeezing hard enough to make himself moan again.  Taking more pre-come from the head of his cock, he smeared the wetness down his length and gripped firmly.  He started to stroke his hand up and down, the feel of his Quidditch-calloused hands a drastic difference from the soft cotton of his pants. 

His breath was coming in heavy pants now, and he looked down at himself to see his cock glistening in the light of the room, red and hard.  He watched as the foreskin slid down with his hand, snapping back up as his hand made the return movement to the tip.  He quickly propped his feet back up on the table, trousers still tangled up above his boots. 

This view immediately made him think of Malfoy, how his own flying trousers had been pooled around his ankles as Harry sucked his cock.  The brunet sped up his hand, fisting himself even harder.  Using his free hand, he grabbed his balls, alternating between rolling them and squeezing them tight against his shaft.  He could feel his other hand hitting against the one holding his sac, causing brief sparks of pleasured pain as the ricochet was felt. 

He could see Malfoy’s cock, jutting out from his body as Harry’s lips were wrapped around it, shiny with saliva.  His shirt, pulled up to his chest to reveal a taut stomach, the hair leading to his cock so light that it looked invisible from a distance.  The nonchalant look on his face during the whole thing, even after Harry had made his presence known. 

Harry was gripping so hard now that his hand was starting to hurt, but he didn’t want to stop.  He was so close to coming, it was like he could feel it rushing up inside of him, ready to burst at any moment.  With one last quick stroke as he looked at the trousers around his own ankles, his orgasm hit, sending his spunk splashing onto his Quidditch shirt as his body shuddered with the contractions. 

His grip on his cock and sac went limp, hands falling to the side.  He didn’t even care that he had just come all over his uniform; that was the best damn wank he had had in ages.

He wanted to clean up, but he spent a moment just relaxing as he thought about more important things, like how he had just imagined himself sucking off Malfoy, not the person using Polyjuice.

He really needed to talk to the blond, as loathe as he was to admit it.   

~~~~~

The next day at practice was awkward, to say the least.  Harry had spent most of the night awake, wondering what the hell to say to the blond that wouldn’t sound awkward.  The brunet wasn’t even sure what would come of the conversation if he was able to talk to Malfoy, and at the moment, the only thing he really could think to ask was why.

Practice had been mostly like the previous day, but suddenly, Harry was much more aware of Malfoy than ever before.  Even though the groups had been on opposite ends of the field, it seemed like Malfoy was constantly showing up near Harry’s end, even when the Quaffle wasn’t down there, and he had had the gall to send a smirk or two in Harry’s direction. 

Nervous, though he wasn’t sure why because it hadn’t been him having sex with a Polyjuiced person, he stuck around the pitch afterward like he normally would for his traditional extra practice.  He wanted to catch Malfoy in the locker room after everyone else had left, but at the same time he was wishing that when he actually got there, the blond would already be gone. 

Knowing he couldn’t avoid the situation forever,  Harry flew down to the grass and dismounted from his broom.  Propping the handle onto one shoulder, he started walking towards the locker room, though his pace was a bit slower than usual.  He wasn’t as sweaty as he had been earlier, mostly because the evening air had cooled him off, and he claimed to himself that he was taking the time to enjoy one of the few non-rainy days so far that summer.  

When he walked into the locker room, only a couple lights were left on, one in the showers and one over a row of lockers nearest the door.  Harry couldn’t help the slight disappointment that he felt when he saw that the locker room looked empty. 

Walking over to his locker in the row that was still lit, he placed his broom on the knee-height wooden bench and opened the orange door.  He pulled out his change of clothes and sat them on the bench also.  With no one else about, Harry decided he would rather take a shower than have to go home and do it, so he started to strip out of his uniform, tossing the clothing messily onto the bench as well. 

He grabbed a towel, his shampoo, and a bar of soap out of his locker before setting his glasses inside and closing the door.  He walked towards the showers, glad that someone had left the light on there.

He picked a shower at the far side, placing the shampoo bottle on the floor and the soap in a small dish built into the wall.  He threw his towel over one of the shoulder-height, tile wall dividers that separated the stalls, though there were no curtains.  He turned on the knob to hot and let the water warm up before stepping in. 

He was still facing the wall, eyes closed, as he let the water finish rinsing the shampoo out of his hair when he heard a sound behind him.  Stepping back out of the stream, he rubbed the water away from his face as he turned around to look. 

He couldn’t help the slight intake of breath as he saw Malfoy standing at the entrance to the showers, still in his Quidditch uniform.  Knowing he sounded rather idiotic, he said, “I thought everyone was gone.”

Malfoy smirked.  “You obviously thought wrong.”

Harry was confused as to why Malfoy was still there and wearing his uniform, so he asked.  “What are you still doing here?”

The blond shrugged.  “Coach wanted to meet with me.  He wanted to tell me that he thought I was progressing quickly and that if I did really well in the next few scrimmages, he might let me play a couple games when the season starts.” 

Harry couldn’t help noticing how Malfoy seemed to say that so carelessly, like it wasn’t a big deal, even though the fact that he had told Harry at all still made it seem like he was bragging. 

Harry was still thinking when he noticed that Malfoy had turned around and was taking off his gloves and boots.  Immediately, he started to panic, because here he was, standing naked in the shower, while the man that had been getting a blowjob from a Polyjuiced version of himself two days before was getting undressed. 

He also decided that he really didn’t want to talk to Malfoy any more.  He turned around quickly, reaching for his bar of soap and lathering it up so he could wash himself.  The sooner he was done, the better, in his opinion. 

He had just started rinsing off when he heard another shower go on, right next to him.  Of all the bloody showers the blond could have chosen, he picked the one closest to Harry’s.  Rushing to finish, he slid his hands over his body to help get rid of any remaining soap bubbles, then turned the shower off.  He grabbed his towel off the tile wall, quickly rubbing the dripping water from his hair before drying off his arms and chest.  He then wrapped the towel around his waist and secured it tightly, picking up his soap and shampoo from the stall. 

Trying to ignore Malfoy, he started to walk out of the showers, but since he wasn’t looking at the ground, he didn’t notice a large puddle of water on the tile left from his teammates’ showers earlier.  As soon as his foot slipped out from beneath him, he grabbed onto the wall to steady himself, but in the process, he dropped his soap and shampoo. 

Leaning down the pick them up, now carefully avoiding the puddle, he heard Malfoy speaking to him.  “Can I borrow your shampoo?”

“What?” Harry asked, unsure of why Malfoy wanted to borrow anything of his. 

The blond just responded, “I forgot mine.  I would appreciate it if I could borrow yours.”

Still facing away from the showers, Harry slowly turned around to look at Malfoy.  The blond was standing under the steady stream of water, soap suds sliding off of his pale skin.  Deciding that the easiest and quickest way to get out of the locker room would be to hand Malfoy his shampoo, he nodded his head. 

“Well, could you at least walk it over to me?  I’m still washing,” the blond told him when he saw that Harry had agreed. 

Trying to hide his blush at the awkwardness of the situation, he made his way back towards Malfoy, holding out the bottle in front of him like he could get there faster if it was further away from his body.  He was also trying to avoid looking at the slightly swollen flesh hanging between the blonde’s legs.

When he was standing only a couple feet in front of Malfoy, far enough to escape the spray of the water, but still too near to the other man’s naked body to be comfortable, he said, “Here, just give it back to me later.”  He started to turn around, at least until he heard what Malfoy said next.

“So I take it you aren’t going to ask about Tuesday?”

He was momentarily frozen in shock; he hadn’t expected the blond to bring up the incident.  After all, it had to be more embarrassing for him than it was for Harry.  And it was pretty damn embarrassing for Harry. 

“At the moment, no,” the brunet said.  He wanted to walk away, but for some reason his limbs didn’t seem to be working. 

“Well, that is disappointing.  I figured after seeing that, you would be sure to ask.”

Harry’s shoulders seemed to be working, though everything else was still tense, so he just shrugged.

“Don’t you want to know why?”

And Merlin, did he ever.  But he sure as hell wasn’t going to say that to Malfoy, especially not in this state of undress. 

He couldn’t help looking at the blond standing in front of him, bottle of shampoo in one hand as he stood under the spray of water, and it made him nervous to see Malfoy’s grin.

“I think you do.”  The voice sounded almost teasing, and it startled Harry even more.  “And I’m going to tell you, whether you like it or not.”

Harry had to quiet his deep breath, clenching his jaw closed so that it wasn’t obvious.  It didn’t seem that he was going to get out of this situation by walking away, and instead he asked, “So why then?”

The blond smirked again, and this one seemed a bit more dangerous than the others.  “Because,” he started.  “Your mouth looks good around my cock.” 

Harry couldn’t help it as his eyes fluttered closed at the comment, a barely-audible moan escaping his lips.  It wasn’t the answer that he had been expecting, but for some reason it really didn’t bother him.  Knowing he couldn’t change the subject completely, but also wanting to steer it away from Malfoy’s comment, he asked, “And do you get someone to Polyjuice into me often?”

He almost dreaded hearing the answer as he watched Malfoy bend over to place the shampoo on the floor of the shower.  He shrugged when he stood back up.  “Just a few times.  It was obvious I wasn’t going to get the real thing, and it wasn’t like you missed the hairs.”

Harry’s stomach did a funny flip-flop, and he distractedly noticed that his cock had started to take an interest in the conversation.  The towel didn’t help much in hiding it, either.  

Then Harry noticed Malfoy looking at him, a thoughtful expression on his face.  “Hmm, or maybe I was wrong.”

A bit startled, and not quite sure what Malfoy was talking about, he asked, “What?”

Stepping forward slightly, though still under the spray of the water, the blond said, “Do you want to finish what you so rudely interrupted the other day?”

Immediately, Harry’s mouth went dry and he flashed back to his wank session the night before; where he, not the other person, had had his mouth wrapped around Malfoy’s cock.  He couldn’t help glancing down, noticing that Malfoy’s prick had seemed to take some interest in the conversation also.  It was growing harder with each passing second, and Harry couldn’t help staring as he watched it fill out, the delicate veins becoming visible as the head pointed away from the body. 

The brunet’s body jerked slightly as he watched Malfoy’s hand glide up his wet leg and slowly grip his shaft. 

“Well?” he asked.  “I don’t want to wait all day.  I would like to get off sometime soon.”

Merlin, it was the same nonchalant voice that Malfoy had used two days before, when he had asked if Harry was just going to stand there.  Now, Harry knew exactly what the blond had wanted. 

Not even realizing that the bar of soap had slipped from his hand, he took a step forward, leaving only a foot of space between their bodies.  Looking up to Malfoy’s face, he saw the man grin. 

“Now, don’t be shy,” Malfoy encouraged, and suddenly, Harry wasn’t.

 Reaching forward, he gently touched the swollen flesh between Malfoy’s legs, sweeping a slightly trembling finger down the length of it.  He had never done anything before with a male, and for some reason it surprised him that it felt the same as his own.

Not even caring that he was getting wet again, he quickly knelt down to the floor, pulling the towel from his waist and piling it on the tile beneath his knees.  For some reason, he felt like he would lose his nerve if he didn’t start this quickly, though he wasn’t sure exactly what was urging him to do this in the first place. 

Reaching forward again, he wrapped his fingers around the cock jutting away from the man in front of him, and he watched as the hands at the blonde’s sides clenched into fists.  Looking up at Malfoy’s face, he was vaguely pleased to see that the blonde’s eyes were shut and that he was biting his lower lip, as if to keep any sound from escaping. 

Slightly hesitant, mostly because he had no idea what he was doing other than having experienced a few blowjobs from Ginny in the past, he started by stroking the hard length in from of him, his hand moving at a leisurely pace as he watched the foreskin slide away from the head.  As he leaned forward, he flicked his tongue out to touch the tip, tasting the tart flavor of the other man’s pre-come, and Malfoy’s hips jerked forward.

“Come on, Potter,” Malfoy growled, and when Harry looked up at his face again, he noticed that he was back to biting his lip.  It seemed like Malfoy was eagerly anticipating this whole experience,  and for some reason that made Harry grin. 

Not wanting to waste any more time, or courage, Harry leaned forward and wrapped his mouth around the blonde’s cock.  At first, he only took the head into his mouth, making an experimental swipe with his tongue around the end.  This action elicited another jerked response from the man in front of him.

The brunet slid his hand back down the shaft, resting it in the alluring patch of pale blond curls at the base, and then proceeded to slide his mouth down as well.  He took as much of the length as he could, though it wasn’t more than halfway by his sight.  When he felt the hardened cock hit the back of his throat, he retreated, dragging his tongue on the underside of the sensitive skin on the way up to the tip. 

Over and over, he repeated this action, but it wasn’t until he started using his hand to follow the actions of his mouth, slightly rotating at the top, that he heard Malfoy let out a strangled gasp above him.  He tried to smile around the prick in his mouth, but it wasn’t working.  Instead, he let out a small laugh, and the vibrations made Malfoy moan again. 

It didn’t take long for the blond to bring his clenched hands up to Harry’s head, gripping his wet hair as Harry sucked him off.  The brunet could feel the slight spray of the water on his face, but Malfoy had stepped far enough out of the shower that it wasn’t obstructing his vision, for which he was glad.  He couldn’t stop himself from constantly looking up to the blonde’s face, watching him as he continually bit his lower lip in between letting small gasps and moans escape, a delicate flush of pink covering his cheekbones. 

Harry continued to work his mouth up and down the shaft, his jaw quickly getting sore, and when he noticed Malfoy’s grip getting tighter and tighter on his hair, his muscles tense as he tried not to buck his hips forward, he knew he was close.  He wasn’t sure how he felt about swallowing, but he didn’t get much of a choice.  With a deep groan, Malfoy’s orgasm hit, leaving his body jerking and his cock as far back as it would go as his salty-tasting come shot down Harry’s throat. 

Trying not to gag and to swallow at the same time, Harry slowly backed his mouth off of the now-spent cock, gently letting it go as he leaned back against his heels.  He looked up to see Malfoy somehow still standing above him, even though his head was thrown back and his mouth was open and panting. 

Standing up, Harry’s knees screamed in pain from having knelt on the hard floor, even with the towel beneath him.  He took notice of his own problem between his legs, but instead of touching his swollen cock, he reached down and picked his towel up off the floor, now soaking wet.  In an attempt at modestly, he wrapped it back around his waist anyway. 

Starting to feel a bit awkward, as he imagined anyone would after this sort of experience, Harry wasn’t sure what to do.  He watched as Malfoy leaned his head forward and slowly opened his eyes.  For a moment, the grey orbs didn’t focus on anything, but when they finally landed on Harry, the fire in them surprised the brunet.

He wasn’t prepared when Malfoy leaned forward and grabbed his arm, pulling his body flush against his own pale one.  Lips latched onto his own, and he felt a tongue invade his mouth with such passion he froze. 

When a hand reached out and touched his own cock though, it was like something snapped inside him.  Immediately, his mouth started to devour Malfoy’s, and he didn’t have time to think about how he must have tasted because he was too focused on the silky smooth tongue that was swiping against his own. 

Somehow, he ended up backed against the tile separating wall, Malfoy’s body pushed against his own, and he could feel the blonde’s sharp hipbones as he started to grind into him.  Every movement lit his cock on fire, and he suddenly wanted nothing more than to drink in every second of this pleasure. 

Malfoy must have turned the shower off, because when he finally pulled away from Harry, they were both breathless but no longer soaking wet, instead their skin just slick from the remnants of the water. 

“I want you to fuck me, Potter,” Malfoy said in a husky voice, his lips swollen from the harsh kissing. 

Harry’s eyes went wide as his brain processed the comment, and he was left without a response. 

“All those times I had someone Polyjuice into you, I never had the person fuck me.  I was reserving that for you.”

Those words went straight to Harry’s cock, and suddenly nothing sounded better than what the blond had requested. 

It was obvious that since he didn’t say “no,” Malfoy thought he was agreeing, and he grabbed Harry’s hand to drag him out of the shower room.  Harry couldn’t help his eyes wandering to the pert ass in front of him, almost overwhelmed by the thought that he would soon be buried in it and wondering why the hell he wasn’t objecting. 

When they got to the lockers, Malfoy wasted no time in shoving all of Harry’s belongings off of the wooden bench, leaving them scattered on the floor.  He pulled the soaking-wet towel from Harry’s waist and dropped it to the floor also.  He let go of Harry’s hand and laid down on the bench, letting his legs fall open over the sides. 

He looked positively wanton, with his half-hard cock lying against his stomach, legs spread, wet hair mussed, and his body still glistening with moisture. 

“Where’s your wand?” the blond asked.

Harry looked around, slightly bewildered.  He knew it had been in the pile on the bench, but now his belongings were strewn across the floor.  Finally, he spotted the familiar stick of wood and summoned it to his hand.  “What do you want me to do?”

“Lubrication spell,” Malfoy said.  “And hurry up.” 

In the amount of time it had taken Harry to find the wand, Malfoy had already grown hard again.  Knowing the logistics of what he was about to do, but not the details, he pointed the wand at Malfoy’s arse and whispered the spell, then repeated it on his own cock.  Dropping his wand back to the floor, he walked forward to stand at the edge of the bench but didn’t make any other movements. 

For a moment, Malfoy seemed almost irritated, but then his eyes widened in surprise and Harry knew that he knew about his inexperience.  Instead of saying anything derogatory though, he just motioned Harry forward.  “You need to stretch me.  Start with one finger.”

Harry watched as Malfoy’s hand dipped down to his own hole, a finger slowly circling the tight pucker before pulling away.  Slightly nervous, Harry reached forward to do the same. 

The position was awkward, because Harry was still standing, so he pushed lightly on Malfoy’s body to help scoot him back further.  Once he had room to sit down on the end of the bench, he straddled it, giving his arm much more freedom to move comfortably. 

Gently, still not sure exactly what to expect, Harry pushed his finger into the tight hole in front of him.  To his surprise, it slipped right in, and the slick warmth surrounding his digit was immediately better than anything he had ever felt with Ginny.  Experimentally, he moved it back and forth a few times and was rewarded by a groan from Malfoy. 

Breathing raggedly, Malfoy told him, “You will need to add one or two more before…” he trailed off.

Harry did as he was told.  When he added the second finger, it didn’t slip in as easily as the first, and he had to push slowly until the man’s body beneath him was adjusted.  When the muscles around his fingers had loosened, he started to pump in and out, occasionally changing the angle to pull strangled moans from the blonde’s lips.  He took his free hand and used it to trail his fingers gently over Malfoy’s prick, feeling the silky skin over the sensitive veins, watching it bounce against his stomach as Malfoy’s muscles contracted.   

After a few minutes, Harry added the third finger, moving even slower than he had with two.  It took longer for Malfoy to quit tensing, but when he did, his sounds and movements were so promiscuous that Harry’s cock perked right back up after its neglect.  Harry watched as Malfoy writhed on the bench beneath him, droplets of sweat running down his face and pooling on his stomach and chest, mixing with the moisture left from the shower, groaning and thrusting down to meet Harry’s twisting fingers. 

A moment later, Malfoy’s hand reached down to still Harry’s.  “Stop, I’m ready.  If we don’t do this soon, I’m going to come again.” 

Once more, Malfoy’s words shot straight to Harry’s groin and his body shivered, though not from being cold.

As the brunet pulled his fingers from the clenching arse in front of him, the blond sat up.  “Switch spots with me.”

Harry wasn’t sure why he was going to lay down, but since he had no experience with this sort of thing, he was trusting Malfoy to make the decisions.  He watched as Malfoy stood up, reddened cock bobbing in front of him, and he quickly lay down on the bench.  It still felt moist from Malfoy’s body lying on it.

Unsure what to do, Harry left his legs out straight, but Malfoy used his hands to spread them, dropping them off the side just like his own had been.  Then, he watched as Malfoy walked over next to him, lifting one leg over his body to straddle him. 

He sat down lightly on Harry’s stomach, and Harry could feel his cock brushing the soft skin of Malfoy’s arse, sending tingling sparks of pleasure down the aroused flesh.  Harry watched as Malfoy raised his body up and grabbed hold of the brunet’s cock. 

Harry groaned.  He watched in fascination as the blond lowered himself slowly onto Harry’s shaft, and Harry couldn’t help the hiss that escaped.  It was so warm and tight, and he was hardly in the man.   

Without any warning, Malfoy slammed down on him, burying Harry’s cock to his balls.  “Fuck, Malfoy!” he growled.  He tried to keep himself from moving, but it felt so amazing he reached his hands forward and gripped Malfoy’s hips to steady himself, fingers tight enough to leave prints on the pale flesh. 

When the clenching was finally gone, Malfoy spoke.  “Come on, Potter.  Fuck me hard.”

That was all the encouragement Harry needed before he used his hands to raise Malfoy up and slam him back down. 

Since the bench was low, Malfoy’s feet reached the floor and he used it to leverage himself.  Harry’s position was a bit more difficult because he was lying down, so he relied mostly on his hands to keep Malfoy moving. 

With every thrust, Harry felt the tension in his stomach building even more.  He had never felt anything so incredibly tight and smooth.  And he sure as hell had never seen anything as sexy as Malfoy fucking himself on his cock.

He watched the blond above him, how his still damp hair swayed with the movement of his body, how his mouth fell open with moans escaping, how his own hard cock slapped against his stomach with each thrust. 

Harry was mesmerized. 

When Malfoy opened his eyes and looked at Harry, he knew it wouldn’t be long for either of them.  There was a light in them he had never seen before, and now that he was focused, he couldn’t look away. 

And when Malfoy leaned down, slightly slowing the thrusts, Harry didn’t even care because he was being kissed again. He could feel Malfoy’s weeping cock brushing against his stomach, and he swallowed the moans of the blond as he gasped with the long, deep strokes. 

Feeling his first shred of control that night, Harry groaned, “Touch yourself.”

He was slightly disappointed when Malfoy stopped kissing him to sit up, but he was more than satisfied to watch the long, pale fingers wrap around his cock.  As he sped up his thrusts again, he watched as Malfoy’s hand matched the movement. 

Between watching Malfoy above him and the feeling around his cock, Harry was getting close.  Still feeling in control, Harry growled, “Is this what you wanted?” and thrust hard. 

With a long moan, Malfoy practically yelled, “Gods yes!” and came, the pearly liquid covering his own hand and Harry’s stomach. 

Harry couldn’t resist the clenching arse around his cock, and two thrusts later,  he spilled as well, his body jerking rigidly with his release.  With the sudden feeling of relief, he relaxed, letting his grip loosen on Malfoy’s hips but still holding them while his cock softened in the blonde’s arse.

A moment later, Malfoy’s body seemed to sag forward and ended up lying on Harry’s chest, Malfoy’s still-warm come smeared between them.  He moved his hands up to the blonde’s back, gently brushing his fingers over the pale skin without thinking, and the blonde’s face tucked between the brunet’s shoulder and neck. 

Suddenly, he couldn’t hold back the laugh that escaped him.  He could feel Malfoy tense above him and he started to try to sit up, but Harry just wrapped his arms around the body and held him in place.

Warily, Malfoy asked, “Why are you laughing?”

And honestly, Harry wasn’t really sure.  “I don’t know.  Maybe because this whole thing just seems so awkward.  Who would have ever thought?”

He could feel Malfoy briefly tense again.  He just hugged him tighter. 

“I never said it was a bad thing, you know.  Just weird.”  At this statement, Malfoy seemed to relax. 

For a moment, the two laid in silence, Malfoy relaxed on Harry and Harry holding him.  Finally, Harry said, “I think we need another shower.”

Harry’s heart felt a little fuller as he sensed Malfoy smiling against his skin.


The End


As usual, I would like to thank Michelle and Pandoras_chaos for getting this back to me, even with the time constraint.  You both helped more than you could imagine, and since I wanted to make sure aki_hoshi received an excellent fic for her birthday, I couldn’t have done it without you! 

One of these days I might write a little sequel to this.  After all… Harry’s got an unused bottle of Polyjuice potion now!


 
From:
Anonymous( )Anonymous This account has disabled anonymous posting.
OpenID( )OpenID You can comment on this post while signed in with an account from many other sites, once you have confirmed your email address. Sign in using OpenID.
User
Account name:
Password:
If you don't have an account you can create one now.
Subject:
HTML doesn't work in the subject.

Message:

 
Notice: This account is set to log the IP addresses of everyone who comments.
Links will be displayed as unclickable URLs to help prevent spam.
.

Profile

icyaurora8: (Default)
icyaurora8

Most Popular Tags

Powered by Dreamwidth Studios

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags