[Fic] Just A Routine Mission (NC-17) HP/TW: Jack Harkness/Harry Potter
Title: Just A Routine Mission
Author: faynia
Characters/Pairing: Captain Jack Harkness/Harry Potter
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 3,200
Warnings: Dub-con
Summary: It was just another routine Death Eater hunt, but sometimes things happen that weren't planned.
A/N: Written for mystictwilight who wanted Jack/Harry slash with no real specifics at all, and for slash_friday's first prompt.
Beta'd by bewarethesmirk
There wasn’t anything spectacular about Cardiff, Harry realized as he stepped out of his Audi A6. It was just like every city he’d been to so far--save the interesting fountain in the middle of the wharf-now that was of interest to him. He shut the door and hit the automatic lock button on his key, grinning at the short high-pitched beep. He knew that leaving the brand new car out in the open like this was a potentially bad idea, but he couldn’t resist showing it off. The silver paint coat shown brilliantly in the afternoon sun and Harry laid a hand on the warm metal.
It was amazing how exhilarating driving a car could be. If Hermione hadn’t suggested he go for his license he never would have known. It was just as reckless and fast-paced as flying a broomstick, and he reveled in it.
“Nice car.”
Harry turned with an easy grin. “I love her. She rides like a dream.”
“Expensive.”
“Only for some,” Harry said dryly. That earned a chuckle and something began curling low in his stomach. He appraised the man before him, taking in the brown, wind-swept hair, inviting smile, warm eyes, the slate blue military overcoat and - sweet Merlin - the suspenders. He quickly looked back up into the man’s eyes and saw the smile had settled into a smirk.
He stuck out a hand. “Captain Jack Harkness.”
Harry took it and shook firmly once. “Harry Potter.”
Jack grinned, and didn’t release Harry’s hand right away. Heat pooled in his cheeks and in places best ignored at the moment. He’d never had such a strong reaction to such a complete stranger before, and it was new and exciting. His mission could wait. It wasn’t like a pocket of fledgling Death Eaters could cause too much destruction if he stopped his search for a few hours.
“Nice fountain,” Harry said, pointing at the waterfall-esque fountain in the middle of the square.
“Like it, do you?”
Harry leaned back against his car, his jean jacket unbuttoned except for the bottom. “It’s long.” He glanced at Jack out of the corner of his eye and saw the surprised and intrigued expression as he joined him. Harry folded his arms across his chest and stretched back over the hood, just enough to make the bottom of his black tee-shirt rise and show a bit of skin.
“And big,” Jack added with a sly smile.
“Yeah, that too. Definitely big.”
Jack laughed again. Harry looked up into the setting sun, trying to mask his pleasure at the husky sound. He had known the captain for a total of five minutes and already he was contemplating asking him out for a drink. Jack’s hand settled on his shoulder and shook him gently.
“Want to go out for a drink?” Harry asked, before he could stop to really think about it. Talking about fountains was one thing, inviting him down to a pub, well; he might as well owl Ron the ten galleons now and concede defeat. It wasn't like he had intended on getting laid when he came to Cardiff, but prospects were looking pretty decent.
“Yeah, sure, I’ve got time.” Jack pushed off the car and opened the door, before slipping into the passenger seat. Harry slid over the hood and landed on his feet before clambering into the driver’s side. He put on his seat belt and put the keys in the ignition. Jack was studying him and he could feel a flush rising up his neck. It struck him that he didn’t know this Captain Jack Harkness at all, and he had already hit on him, let him into his new car, and was about to take him down to a pub. “You all right?”
Harry gazed down at the strong hand covering his with a bemused smile and he nodded. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.”
Ten minutes later, they arrived at the only pub Harry had been to in Cardiff. It wasn’t the swankiest place by far, but it served good ale, and that was all Harry was looking for. Jack didn’t seem to care one way or another, if the easy going smile on his face proved anything. He really just wished Jack’d stop running his fingers up and down his arm like that, before he did something that would surely leave him in loads of pain in the morning.
“Harry, you want to go inside now?”
Harry blinked, his attention being forcefully brought back to Jack as the man raised one of his hands to his lips. Harry’s mouth parted in shock and it was all he could do not to yank his hand back. He definitely needed a drink.
“Yeah, let’s go.”
He turned off the car and hurriedly unbelted himself - anything to put a bit of distance between him and Jack. A hand settled on his knee and squeezed gently. Harry brought his gaze up to Jack’s face and saw something like confusion or maybe worry. He didn’t have much of a chance to figure it out because Jack was suddenly all smiles again.
“Let’s go then,” Jack said, squeezing Harry’s knee once again for good measure, before jumping out of the car.
Harry got out and rounded the car, falling in step with the Captain as they made their way towards the pub. The lot was fairly crowded for a Tuesday night, but then Harry really wasn’t a great judge of how full a bar was supposed to be on a weekday. As a matter of fact, his only real experiences with bars happened around midnight on Fridays with Ron, and then only the seedier folk were left.
He hadn't expected the pub to be so vibrant when he entered it. The atmosphere was completely different than he was used to, and Jack wasn't helping him much. He squeaked when the man groped his arse as they neared the bar. Harry glared, but it fell flat and he found himself lost once again to swirling pools of gray and a disarming smile. Jack really was laying it on a bit thick, but if Harry's body minded, it certainly had a funny way of showing its opposition.
He shifted uncomfortably as he sat on the barstool and placed his order. It was something he once had seen Hermione get and if the small noises she had made in the back of her throat had been any indication, it was heaven on Earth. A King Alphonse. Even the name suggested that it would be good. Something about the idea of chocolate liqueur attracted him.
Jack's order was much easier to fill, but even then it fit him perfectly. “Just a beer, thanks.” A coy touch to the barmaid's hand, a subtle wink, and she flushed. How the hell did he do that? Harry stared in a sullen manner into his drink. Maybe inviting Jack Harkness out for a drink had been a bad idea. He really should have just continued on. Just because his tracking spell had disappeared for no reason the moment he neared that blasted fountain, didn't mean he had to pull over the car and get out. It definitely hadn't meant he needed to flirt with a complete stranger, did it? No, it didn't, and his glare intensified down at the white foam on top of his drink.
"Come on, there's a table open over there."
Harry glanced in the direction Jack was pointing, beer bottle held precariously between his thumb and three fingers. Dark corner. Bad idea, his mind screamed, but he hopped off the stool anyways and followed Jack to the table.
Screw logic. It had been too damn long since he'd done anything remotely related to sex, and he wasn't about to pass up this chance, even if it was a notoriously bad idea. Harry took a long gulp of his drink.
He slid into the booth seat beside Jack and earned another coy smile that made his cock leap to attention. He had already been half-hard before, but this was just plain embarrassing now. This happened to 18-year-olds their first time, not 28-year-old men who had known more than one or two men and women.
Jack didn't seem disturbed by this at all, in fact, he took a swig of beer and leaned forward. Before Harry could figure out what was going on, Jack's lips were pressed forcefully against his, and they parted against his will. He felt the warm liquid pour into his mouth and it was either swallow or choke. He tasted the faint tracing of ashwinder eggs and swore brilliantly in his head.
His vision blurred momentarily and leaned heavily on Jack, enjoying the feel of warm, wet lips covering his own, sucking his bottom lip, biting it. Merlin, no! He was fucked, or was going to get fucked, he wasn't even sure anymore, but what he was sure of was Jack was forcing the remaining traces of the love potion into his system the fastest way possible through his blood, but that wasn't all. His brain fogged and his Auror instincts kicked in. He pulled back and wiped his mouth on the back of his jacket sleeve with a hurt expression.
A truth potion, why hadn't he listened to his own conscience? Now he was well and truly screwed. His mission was compromised and it was time he pulled out, before he-
Jack smelled of lavender, and musk. Odd combination for a man, maybe he used hand cream? Jack's hands were impeccably soft. He tipped his head to the side and smiled drunkenly.
"What's your name?" Jack asked softly with a patient smile. Harry decided he really liked that smile.
"Harry James Potter," Harry answered promptly.
Jack's grin turned decidedly feral and Harry moaned low in the back of his throat. A hand ran down his face and cradled the back of his neck, bringing his attention from his own body to those stunning silver orbs once again.
His forehead was kissed, then, a wet tongue traced along his scar. Instead of the usual shudder he got from that, it was welcomed. "What do you want, Harry? Just say it."
"You," he blurted out, reaching blindly for his drink so he could hide his flushed cheeks. He turned once the hand released him and he looked around the smoky area, no one seemed to notice them. Had he accidentally cast a few privacy charms around their table? He doubted it. Jack appeared to be pleased with him and he shifted in his spot again.
That was not his hand on his crotch he realized through the pleasant haze that had surrounded him. Those were not his fingers running teasingly up and down his hardening length, and those same fingers were currently making short work of unbuttoning his pants, and he really ought to do something about this.
“What are you doing?” Harry asked, turning glassy green eyes on the extremely handsome man beside him.
“You don’t like it?”
“No-yes…just not here.” He squirmed as Jack’s fingers danced up his thigh. “Please,” he whined.
Jack grinned and released him. Harry sunk back into the cushioned seat, breathing heavily through his nose. Pulling his glass towards him, he took a long pull of the frothy chocolate beverage. It burned the back of his throat in a pleasing manner, and he groaned softly. Jack’s chuckle broke through his enjoyment and he hastily put the glass back on the table with a click. Merlin, but the Captain’s voice was like sex, and it went straight to the part of his anatomy he least wanted to have it effect.
He sloppily buttoned his pants up and stumbled out from behind the circular table. The tension in his groin was unbearable and he had to do something about it before he could feel safe sitting down next to Jack again. That man was going to kill him. He just knew it. No one else had managed to get in his pants that fast, pun very- much-so intended.
He was so hard it hurt to move, but move he did, straight to the gentlemen’s restroom. Harry staggered into one of the stalls and fumbled with the latch, before leaning heavily against the door. The cold temperature seeped into his back, cooling him off just enough to gather his wits.
Love potion. He'd been slipped a fucking love potion. Harry slammed his head hard against the metal door behind him, but it didn't help him any. He knew that the moment he was near Jack again he'd forget this again.
Just thinking the man's name had his cock pulsing and he stepped forward, unzipping his fly. He pulled out his engorged erection and stroked it once, firmly. Harry groaned loudly before he could stop himself. There might be other people in the loo with him, and wouldn't that be embarrassing? Apparently his cock didn’t think so.
He pulled and stroked in time to his labored breathing, wishing it were Jack’s hand on him, not his own, wishing Jack was behind him, hard cock driving in and out of his arse, taking him by force. Harry grunted, head bowed as he looked down at the reddened appendage. He was so close.
He squeezed his eyes shut, tugging and stroking, his balls drawing up…and nothing happened. He was ready to cry within two minutes of fruitless grasping and pulling and thrusting, but nothing happened; he was stuck, teetering on the brink and he just needed. He needed Jack.
As if beckoned by his aura of pathetic-ness, he felt, rather than heard, the door to his stall open, and smelled, rather than felt Jack, come to stand right behind him.
“Now really, Harry,” Jack practically purred, pressing himself against Harry’s backside. There was no mistaking where this encounter would lead to, but perhaps he could stall it a while longer. The truth potion hadn’t worn off, but he wasn’t desperate enough or drunk enough to fully succumb to it, now that he’d acknowledged it fully. “Did you have to run off like that? I thought you were enjoying yourself.”
“Prick,” Harry spat, his hand clutching his still hard erection. “You’re absolutely the worst human I’ve ever met, and I’ve met some despicable humans before now.”
Jack hummed and Harry jerked forward unconsciously thrusting into his hand, the friction making his toes curl in his trainers. Jack wrapped a hand around Harry’s and slowly pulled it off his cock. Harry whimpered from lack of contact, the needy sound escaping his mouth. There was a moment where Jack weaved his fingers through Harry’s before bringing the pre-come and sweat slicked digits back to his member.
“I don’t want you to come yet, Harry, do you understand me?”
Harry wasn’t sure how he was supposed to understand anything when Jack’s fingers were tightening around his erection and his hips were grinding lazily into his arse.
“Y-yes.”
“Good, now we’re going to have a little chat,” Jack murmured, his breath catching.
“C-chat?” Harry panted. Jack’s thumb was doing amazing things to the head of his cock and his concentration was slipping, he had to remain focused though. He couldn’t let any of his sec-
Jack twisted his hand and thrust his hips forward, sending Harry’s knees into the rim of the grimy toilet seat. Pain blossomed and radiated up and down his legs, distracting him the other pain long enough to hear Jack ask, “What are you?”
Harry blinked, feeling the urge to speak the truth, blurt out everything that he was, but he managed to hang on. “What do you mean?”
Jack grunted in irritation and Harry felt his pants being shoved down to his knees. “Keep stroking yourself.”
He could do nothing but obey the harsh, panted command in his ear. His prick ached and was purpling in his hand, but he continued to stroke as if it would make it any better. He heard the snap of Jack’s suspenders unhitching from his black pants, and then the rustling of fabric.
“What species are you, Harry?”
Harry peered over his shoulder to see Jack fisting his prick against his bottom. His own hand sped up as he watched the slow strokes Jack was using on his own member.
“Human,” he answered thickly, swallowing the build up of saliva in his mouth.
Jack met Harry’s hooded gaze and he smirked. Harry gasped as Jack fingered the head of his own cock, before bringing a finger up towards Harry’s arsehole. The tip of the man’s finger was pressed up against the little puckered opening, just sitting there, and Harry pressed back, but Jack was quicker. “Are you lying to me?”
“No.”
The poorly slicked finger slipped inside of him, twisting and seeking and rough. Harry shuddered on the inhale, he hadn’t expected that pain, but even then he couldn’t help but push backwards onto the single digit, needing more, wanting something, anything, everything. Jack hadn’t been kidding when he had said big, the man was hung like a horse, and if Harry was salivating a bit more than normal as his chin touched his chest, so be it.
“You are not a normal human though, are you?” Came the next question.
Harry whimpered, his arsehole clenching over Jack’s finger as he was stretched. “N-no.”
“No,” Jack whispered, inserting a second finger, similarly unprepared into Harry’s sore arse. None of this seemed to be effecting his burgeoning erection at all. Harry cupped his balls and rolled them in his hands, begging his body to cooperate. He just wanted this done. He wasn’t sure if he’d be able to hold onto his mind much longer; the fog was pressing closer now, obscuring all of his senses but touch, he could feel so much and he didn’t want it to stop.
Those fingers scissored him open brutally, but the hand running up and down his spine, around his neck, down his fabric-covered chest then back again sang a different tune.
“Then what are you?”
Harry gasped, his eyes shut tight once again. He bit his lip until it bled, trying to keep the answer hidden. Jack was a Muggle, with Muggle technology, and a really huge fucking cock. There was no power in that.
“Come on, Harry,” Jack encouraged, crooking his fingers and hitting that one place that hadn’t been stimulated yet. Harry arched back and jerked forward with a loud moan. “What are you?”
“Wizard,” he keened, his head thrown back, cheeks flushed as a third and final finger inserted itself in between his butt cheeks, and he came, messily, over the toilet seat and his hand. His eyes fluttered open and closed as he jerked forward into his hand a few more times, before slumping backwards.
Harry was trapped, he had blown it, but he realized the reward for breaking cover might just have been worth it. He’d need to find an owl to get those ten galleons to Ron.
Author: faynia
Characters/Pairing: Captain Jack Harkness/Harry Potter
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 3,200
Warnings: Dub-con
Summary: It was just another routine Death Eater hunt, but sometimes things happen that weren't planned.
A/N: Written for mystictwilight who wanted Jack/Harry slash with no real specifics at all, and for slash_friday's first prompt.
Beta'd by bewarethesmirk
There wasn’t anything spectacular about Cardiff, Harry realized as he stepped out of his Audi A6. It was just like every city he’d been to so far--save the interesting fountain in the middle of the wharf-now that was of interest to him. He shut the door and hit the automatic lock button on his key, grinning at the short high-pitched beep. He knew that leaving the brand new car out in the open like this was a potentially bad idea, but he couldn’t resist showing it off. The silver paint coat shown brilliantly in the afternoon sun and Harry laid a hand on the warm metal.
It was amazing how exhilarating driving a car could be. If Hermione hadn’t suggested he go for his license he never would have known. It was just as reckless and fast-paced as flying a broomstick, and he reveled in it.
“Nice car.”
Harry turned with an easy grin. “I love her. She rides like a dream.”
“Expensive.”
“Only for some,” Harry said dryly. That earned a chuckle and something began curling low in his stomach. He appraised the man before him, taking in the brown, wind-swept hair, inviting smile, warm eyes, the slate blue military overcoat and - sweet Merlin - the suspenders. He quickly looked back up into the man’s eyes and saw the smile had settled into a smirk.
He stuck out a hand. “Captain Jack Harkness.”
Harry took it and shook firmly once. “Harry Potter.”
Jack grinned, and didn’t release Harry’s hand right away. Heat pooled in his cheeks and in places best ignored at the moment. He’d never had such a strong reaction to such a complete stranger before, and it was new and exciting. His mission could wait. It wasn’t like a pocket of fledgling Death Eaters could cause too much destruction if he stopped his search for a few hours.
“Nice fountain,” Harry said, pointing at the waterfall-esque fountain in the middle of the square.
“Like it, do you?”
Harry leaned back against his car, his jean jacket unbuttoned except for the bottom. “It’s long.” He glanced at Jack out of the corner of his eye and saw the surprised and intrigued expression as he joined him. Harry folded his arms across his chest and stretched back over the hood, just enough to make the bottom of his black tee-shirt rise and show a bit of skin.
“And big,” Jack added with a sly smile.
“Yeah, that too. Definitely big.”
Jack laughed again. Harry looked up into the setting sun, trying to mask his pleasure at the husky sound. He had known the captain for a total of five minutes and already he was contemplating asking him out for a drink. Jack’s hand settled on his shoulder and shook him gently.
“Want to go out for a drink?” Harry asked, before he could stop to really think about it. Talking about fountains was one thing, inviting him down to a pub, well; he might as well owl Ron the ten galleons now and concede defeat. It wasn't like he had intended on getting laid when he came to Cardiff, but prospects were looking pretty decent.
“Yeah, sure, I’ve got time.” Jack pushed off the car and opened the door, before slipping into the passenger seat. Harry slid over the hood and landed on his feet before clambering into the driver’s side. He put on his seat belt and put the keys in the ignition. Jack was studying him and he could feel a flush rising up his neck. It struck him that he didn’t know this Captain Jack Harkness at all, and he had already hit on him, let him into his new car, and was about to take him down to a pub. “You all right?”
Harry gazed down at the strong hand covering his with a bemused smile and he nodded. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.”
Ten minutes later, they arrived at the only pub Harry had been to in Cardiff. It wasn’t the swankiest place by far, but it served good ale, and that was all Harry was looking for. Jack didn’t seem to care one way or another, if the easy going smile on his face proved anything. He really just wished Jack’d stop running his fingers up and down his arm like that, before he did something that would surely leave him in loads of pain in the morning.
“Harry, you want to go inside now?”
Harry blinked, his attention being forcefully brought back to Jack as the man raised one of his hands to his lips. Harry’s mouth parted in shock and it was all he could do not to yank his hand back. He definitely needed a drink.
“Yeah, let’s go.”
He turned off the car and hurriedly unbelted himself - anything to put a bit of distance between him and Jack. A hand settled on his knee and squeezed gently. Harry brought his gaze up to Jack’s face and saw something like confusion or maybe worry. He didn’t have much of a chance to figure it out because Jack was suddenly all smiles again.
“Let’s go then,” Jack said, squeezing Harry’s knee once again for good measure, before jumping out of the car.
Harry got out and rounded the car, falling in step with the Captain as they made their way towards the pub. The lot was fairly crowded for a Tuesday night, but then Harry really wasn’t a great judge of how full a bar was supposed to be on a weekday. As a matter of fact, his only real experiences with bars happened around midnight on Fridays with Ron, and then only the seedier folk were left.
He hadn't expected the pub to be so vibrant when he entered it. The atmosphere was completely different than he was used to, and Jack wasn't helping him much. He squeaked when the man groped his arse as they neared the bar. Harry glared, but it fell flat and he found himself lost once again to swirling pools of gray and a disarming smile. Jack really was laying it on a bit thick, but if Harry's body minded, it certainly had a funny way of showing its opposition.
He shifted uncomfortably as he sat on the barstool and placed his order. It was something he once had seen Hermione get and if the small noises she had made in the back of her throat had been any indication, it was heaven on Earth. A King Alphonse. Even the name suggested that it would be good. Something about the idea of chocolate liqueur attracted him.
Jack's order was much easier to fill, but even then it fit him perfectly. “Just a beer, thanks.” A coy touch to the barmaid's hand, a subtle wink, and she flushed. How the hell did he do that? Harry stared in a sullen manner into his drink. Maybe inviting Jack Harkness out for a drink had been a bad idea. He really should have just continued on. Just because his tracking spell had disappeared for no reason the moment he neared that blasted fountain, didn't mean he had to pull over the car and get out. It definitely hadn't meant he needed to flirt with a complete stranger, did it? No, it didn't, and his glare intensified down at the white foam on top of his drink.
"Come on, there's a table open over there."
Harry glanced in the direction Jack was pointing, beer bottle held precariously between his thumb and three fingers. Dark corner. Bad idea, his mind screamed, but he hopped off the stool anyways and followed Jack to the table.
Screw logic. It had been too damn long since he'd done anything remotely related to sex, and he wasn't about to pass up this chance, even if it was a notoriously bad idea. Harry took a long gulp of his drink.
He slid into the booth seat beside Jack and earned another coy smile that made his cock leap to attention. He had already been half-hard before, but this was just plain embarrassing now. This happened to 18-year-olds their first time, not 28-year-old men who had known more than one or two men and women.
Jack didn't seem disturbed by this at all, in fact, he took a swig of beer and leaned forward. Before Harry could figure out what was going on, Jack's lips were pressed forcefully against his, and they parted against his will. He felt the warm liquid pour into his mouth and it was either swallow or choke. He tasted the faint tracing of ashwinder eggs and swore brilliantly in his head.
His vision blurred momentarily and leaned heavily on Jack, enjoying the feel of warm, wet lips covering his own, sucking his bottom lip, biting it. Merlin, no! He was fucked, or was going to get fucked, he wasn't even sure anymore, but what he was sure of was Jack was forcing the remaining traces of the love potion into his system the fastest way possible through his blood, but that wasn't all. His brain fogged and his Auror instincts kicked in. He pulled back and wiped his mouth on the back of his jacket sleeve with a hurt expression.
A truth potion, why hadn't he listened to his own conscience? Now he was well and truly screwed. His mission was compromised and it was time he pulled out, before he-
Jack smelled of lavender, and musk. Odd combination for a man, maybe he used hand cream? Jack's hands were impeccably soft. He tipped his head to the side and smiled drunkenly.
"What's your name?" Jack asked softly with a patient smile. Harry decided he really liked that smile.
"Harry James Potter," Harry answered promptly.
Jack's grin turned decidedly feral and Harry moaned low in the back of his throat. A hand ran down his face and cradled the back of his neck, bringing his attention from his own body to those stunning silver orbs once again.
His forehead was kissed, then, a wet tongue traced along his scar. Instead of the usual shudder he got from that, it was welcomed. "What do you want, Harry? Just say it."
"You," he blurted out, reaching blindly for his drink so he could hide his flushed cheeks. He turned once the hand released him and he looked around the smoky area, no one seemed to notice them. Had he accidentally cast a few privacy charms around their table? He doubted it. Jack appeared to be pleased with him and he shifted in his spot again.
That was not his hand on his crotch he realized through the pleasant haze that had surrounded him. Those were not his fingers running teasingly up and down his hardening length, and those same fingers were currently making short work of unbuttoning his pants, and he really ought to do something about this.
“What are you doing?” Harry asked, turning glassy green eyes on the extremely handsome man beside him.
“You don’t like it?”
“No-yes…just not here.” He squirmed as Jack’s fingers danced up his thigh. “Please,” he whined.
Jack grinned and released him. Harry sunk back into the cushioned seat, breathing heavily through his nose. Pulling his glass towards him, he took a long pull of the frothy chocolate beverage. It burned the back of his throat in a pleasing manner, and he groaned softly. Jack’s chuckle broke through his enjoyment and he hastily put the glass back on the table with a click. Merlin, but the Captain’s voice was like sex, and it went straight to the part of his anatomy he least wanted to have it effect.
He sloppily buttoned his pants up and stumbled out from behind the circular table. The tension in his groin was unbearable and he had to do something about it before he could feel safe sitting down next to Jack again. That man was going to kill him. He just knew it. No one else had managed to get in his pants that fast, pun very- much-so intended.
He was so hard it hurt to move, but move he did, straight to the gentlemen’s restroom. Harry staggered into one of the stalls and fumbled with the latch, before leaning heavily against the door. The cold temperature seeped into his back, cooling him off just enough to gather his wits.
Love potion. He'd been slipped a fucking love potion. Harry slammed his head hard against the metal door behind him, but it didn't help him any. He knew that the moment he was near Jack again he'd forget this again.
Just thinking the man's name had his cock pulsing and he stepped forward, unzipping his fly. He pulled out his engorged erection and stroked it once, firmly. Harry groaned loudly before he could stop himself. There might be other people in the loo with him, and wouldn't that be embarrassing? Apparently his cock didn’t think so.
He pulled and stroked in time to his labored breathing, wishing it were Jack’s hand on him, not his own, wishing Jack was behind him, hard cock driving in and out of his arse, taking him by force. Harry grunted, head bowed as he looked down at the reddened appendage. He was so close.
He squeezed his eyes shut, tugging and stroking, his balls drawing up…and nothing happened. He was ready to cry within two minutes of fruitless grasping and pulling and thrusting, but nothing happened; he was stuck, teetering on the brink and he just needed. He needed Jack.
As if beckoned by his aura of pathetic-ness, he felt, rather than heard, the door to his stall open, and smelled, rather than felt Jack, come to stand right behind him.
“Now really, Harry,” Jack practically purred, pressing himself against Harry’s backside. There was no mistaking where this encounter would lead to, but perhaps he could stall it a while longer. The truth potion hadn’t worn off, but he wasn’t desperate enough or drunk enough to fully succumb to it, now that he’d acknowledged it fully. “Did you have to run off like that? I thought you were enjoying yourself.”
“Prick,” Harry spat, his hand clutching his still hard erection. “You’re absolutely the worst human I’ve ever met, and I’ve met some despicable humans before now.”
Jack hummed and Harry jerked forward unconsciously thrusting into his hand, the friction making his toes curl in his trainers. Jack wrapped a hand around Harry’s and slowly pulled it off his cock. Harry whimpered from lack of contact, the needy sound escaping his mouth. There was a moment where Jack weaved his fingers through Harry’s before bringing the pre-come and sweat slicked digits back to his member.
“I don’t want you to come yet, Harry, do you understand me?”
Harry wasn’t sure how he was supposed to understand anything when Jack’s fingers were tightening around his erection and his hips were grinding lazily into his arse.
“Y-yes.”
“Good, now we’re going to have a little chat,” Jack murmured, his breath catching.
“C-chat?” Harry panted. Jack’s thumb was doing amazing things to the head of his cock and his concentration was slipping, he had to remain focused though. He couldn’t let any of his sec-
Jack twisted his hand and thrust his hips forward, sending Harry’s knees into the rim of the grimy toilet seat. Pain blossomed and radiated up and down his legs, distracting him the other pain long enough to hear Jack ask, “What are you?”
Harry blinked, feeling the urge to speak the truth, blurt out everything that he was, but he managed to hang on. “What do you mean?”
Jack grunted in irritation and Harry felt his pants being shoved down to his knees. “Keep stroking yourself.”
He could do nothing but obey the harsh, panted command in his ear. His prick ached and was purpling in his hand, but he continued to stroke as if it would make it any better. He heard the snap of Jack’s suspenders unhitching from his black pants, and then the rustling of fabric.
“What species are you, Harry?”
Harry peered over his shoulder to see Jack fisting his prick against his bottom. His own hand sped up as he watched the slow strokes Jack was using on his own member.
“Human,” he answered thickly, swallowing the build up of saliva in his mouth.
Jack met Harry’s hooded gaze and he smirked. Harry gasped as Jack fingered the head of his own cock, before bringing a finger up towards Harry’s arsehole. The tip of the man’s finger was pressed up against the little puckered opening, just sitting there, and Harry pressed back, but Jack was quicker. “Are you lying to me?”
“No.”
The poorly slicked finger slipped inside of him, twisting and seeking and rough. Harry shuddered on the inhale, he hadn’t expected that pain, but even then he couldn’t help but push backwards onto the single digit, needing more, wanting something, anything, everything. Jack hadn’t been kidding when he had said big, the man was hung like a horse, and if Harry was salivating a bit more than normal as his chin touched his chest, so be it.
“You are not a normal human though, are you?” Came the next question.
Harry whimpered, his arsehole clenching over Jack’s finger as he was stretched. “N-no.”
“No,” Jack whispered, inserting a second finger, similarly unprepared into Harry’s sore arse. None of this seemed to be effecting his burgeoning erection at all. Harry cupped his balls and rolled them in his hands, begging his body to cooperate. He just wanted this done. He wasn’t sure if he’d be able to hold onto his mind much longer; the fog was pressing closer now, obscuring all of his senses but touch, he could feel so much and he didn’t want it to stop.
Those fingers scissored him open brutally, but the hand running up and down his spine, around his neck, down his fabric-covered chest then back again sang a different tune.
“Then what are you?”
Harry gasped, his eyes shut tight once again. He bit his lip until it bled, trying to keep the answer hidden. Jack was a Muggle, with Muggle technology, and a really huge fucking cock. There was no power in that.
“Come on, Harry,” Jack encouraged, crooking his fingers and hitting that one place that hadn’t been stimulated yet. Harry arched back and jerked forward with a loud moan. “What are you?”
“Wizard,” he keened, his head thrown back, cheeks flushed as a third and final finger inserted itself in between his butt cheeks, and he came, messily, over the toilet seat and his hand. His eyes fluttered open and closed as he jerked forward into his hand a few more times, before slumping backwards.
Harry was trapped, he had blown it, but he realized the reward for breaking cover might just have been worth it. He’d need to find an owl to get those ten galleons to Ron.