FIC: For Draco: Draco/Harry. NC-17.
Title: For Draco
Author: mensrea
Rating: NC-17
Length: 1,080 words.
Pairing: Draco/Harry(/Bedpost. Yes, bedpost.)
Warnings: Object insertion, voyeurism, a tiny bit of bondage.
Summary: PWP. When Draco asks a favour, Harry obliges. Happily.
A/N's: Losing my pornish virginity. Don't be gentle, y'all.
Harry moans, pushing his tongue against the rough fabric of silk tie in his mouth, and spreads his thighs even further apart. legs tangle in the green silk sheets, but he doesn't care. He doesn't care about anything, except his dripping cock and the fingers in his stretched arse.
Draco's got three fingers in him already. Harry wants more.
He bucks back against Draco's fingers trying to push them in further. Draco pulls them back, back, until they're almost out. Draco twists, running his rough fingertips along the inside of Harry's arse. Harry yells, and bites down hard on the pillow. He wants to come so badly, but Draco won't let him.
"Potter," whispers Draco, but Harry's too busy moaning, thrusting, to hear. "Potter!"
Harry's response is a muffled groan, barely distinguishable. Barely audible.
Draco finally pulls his fingers out, watching in fascination as Harry's arse closes back up again, slowly slowly. Harry whines, grinding his hips forwards and back against the sheets, his arse reaching for Draco's fingers.
Draco leans forward, his robes sliding gently across Harry's bare skin, and wraps his arms around Harry's waist, pinching a nipple gently as he lowers his mouth to Harry's ear.
"Come on, Potter. Up," he says, pulling Draco up and away, until he's sitting on Draco's knees. He whines again at the loss of friction, trying to slide back down onto the sheets, but Draco's fingers dig into the flesh of his hips, holding him in place. Draco slides his tongue along the ridge of Harry's ear, delighting in the way Harry writhes. He darts his tongue into the ear, and Harry tries to wriggle back onto Draco's crotch but is again thwarted by Draco's grip.
Harry's eyes are unfocused, staring blindly at the green pillows and silver bed curtains. His breath hitches in the throat, coming and going in long, rugged gasps. His hips rock almost unconsciously, spreading warm oil down the legs of Draco's pants.
"Ride the bedpost for me, Potter?" Draco says, his breath brushing past Harry's cheek.
Harry doesn't understand, almost; has never noticed before that the Slytherin bedposts do not reach to canopy. For Draco. He tries to push away from Draco, down on all fours crawling towards the foot of the bed, but his knees shake and he finds himself sprawled across the bed, his arse pointing into the air and his knees slipping across the sheets until it begins to pull at his loins.
Draco shuffles down the bed as Harry struggles to right himself. Draco presses a hand against Harry's heated buttock, and for a moment Harry thinks that Draco has given up on his plan and is going to fuck him where he lies. (He wouldn't mind, really.) Draco's hand slides over the buttock and up to his hip, and Harry shifts a little as the fingers come so close to his burning cock. Draco wraps his other hand around Harry's other hip, and lifts up him almost effortlessly.
Harry struggles for a moment at the awkward position. His arse is up in the air and his face is buried in the sheets again, the tie pulling at the corners of his mouth. But then Draco whispers something, and Harry finds himself being lifted by something invisible until he is leaning back against Draco's chest, Draco's hand now cupped under his arse and his legs sprawling into the air.
Draco carries him to the foot of the bed, setting him down on top of the bed post. Harry moans at the contact on his arse, his cock jumping against his stomach. His eyes flutter closed as he squirms on the slick, polished wood, letting it slip between his cheeks. When opens them again Draco is sitting on a chair opposite him, still fully clothed, his hands at his sides. Watching him.
The pressure of the wood against Harry's loose arse is delicious. The ball is not big, but not small either. Harry's eyes roll back as he presses himself down against it, feeling his arse stretch again, taking the post into him. He goes slowly, savouring the feeling of the wood against the inside or his arse and Draco's eyes on his skin.
His cock jumps at every little shift down onto the post. He longs to take it in his hands, but he can feel Draco watching him. He spreads his thighs wide, lifting them so Draco can see clearly where the wood of Draco's bed is sinking into Harry, claiming him.
He pushes down again, and the ball slides smoothly into his arse, beginning to taper again. He groans loudly, throwing his head back. He leans his whole torso back, spreading his hands against the mattress to steady himself. His breath is coming even harsher than before. The air in the room shifts gently, swirling around his balls as they dangle. His cock jumps hard, the exposed head sliding across the base of his belly, and he moans again, long and loud.
"Please," he groans, the bedpost sinking even further into his arse.
Draco's voice is tiny and tight. Harry can barely hear him when he says, "Touch youself for me, Harry. Come for me, Harry."
For Draco.
Harry's hand flies to his cock, wrapping around it tightly as the last part of the post sinks into his arse. He is full, so full, and his hand tugs at his cock urgently. The head is so very wet as his palm slides across it, and Harry gasps at the sensation. His hips jerk upwards rhythmically, pulling his arse against the bed.
He writhes on the bedpost, squirming as the wood rasps gently against his flesh. "Draaa-aa-co," he yells against the tie as he comes forcefully, spilling his seed across his heaving belly. His arse clenches around the neck of the post hard, almost painfully.
He slumps backwards, his elbow slipping out from underneath him and his legs flying up, flailing in the air. The bed post will not release its hold on his arse, and he shifts unconfortably, bucking up.
Draco's hand press against his arse again, gently lifting him him free of the bedpost. Harry shudders at the loss, feeling so empty, and then Draco is lying in between his thighs, entwining his arms with Harry's, kissing him ever so softly.
"Thank you, Harry," he whispers against Harry's nose. The evidence of Draco's appreciation juts against his balls, but Draco makes no move to deal with it. "Thank you."
Author: mensrea
Rating: NC-17
Length: 1,080 words.
Pairing: Draco/Harry(/Bedpost. Yes, bedpost.)
Warnings: Object insertion, voyeurism, a tiny bit of bondage.
Summary: PWP. When Draco asks a favour, Harry obliges. Happily.
A/N's: Losing my pornish virginity. Don't be gentle, y'all.
Harry moans, pushing his tongue against the rough fabric of silk tie in his mouth, and spreads his thighs even further apart. legs tangle in the green silk sheets, but he doesn't care. He doesn't care about anything, except his dripping cock and the fingers in his stretched arse.
Draco's got three fingers in him already. Harry wants more.
He bucks back against Draco's fingers trying to push them in further. Draco pulls them back, back, until they're almost out. Draco twists, running his rough fingertips along the inside of Harry's arse. Harry yells, and bites down hard on the pillow. He wants to come so badly, but Draco won't let him.
"Potter," whispers Draco, but Harry's too busy moaning, thrusting, to hear. "Potter!"
Harry's response is a muffled groan, barely distinguishable. Barely audible.
Draco finally pulls his fingers out, watching in fascination as Harry's arse closes back up again, slowly slowly. Harry whines, grinding his hips forwards and back against the sheets, his arse reaching for Draco's fingers.
Draco leans forward, his robes sliding gently across Harry's bare skin, and wraps his arms around Harry's waist, pinching a nipple gently as he lowers his mouth to Harry's ear.
"Come on, Potter. Up," he says, pulling Draco up and away, until he's sitting on Draco's knees. He whines again at the loss of friction, trying to slide back down onto the sheets, but Draco's fingers dig into the flesh of his hips, holding him in place. Draco slides his tongue along the ridge of Harry's ear, delighting in the way Harry writhes. He darts his tongue into the ear, and Harry tries to wriggle back onto Draco's crotch but is again thwarted by Draco's grip.
Harry's eyes are unfocused, staring blindly at the green pillows and silver bed curtains. His breath hitches in the throat, coming and going in long, rugged gasps. His hips rock almost unconsciously, spreading warm oil down the legs of Draco's pants.
"Ride the bedpost for me, Potter?" Draco says, his breath brushing past Harry's cheek.
Harry doesn't understand, almost; has never noticed before that the Slytherin bedposts do not reach to canopy. For Draco. He tries to push away from Draco, down on all fours crawling towards the foot of the bed, but his knees shake and he finds himself sprawled across the bed, his arse pointing into the air and his knees slipping across the sheets until it begins to pull at his loins.
Draco shuffles down the bed as Harry struggles to right himself. Draco presses a hand against Harry's heated buttock, and for a moment Harry thinks that Draco has given up on his plan and is going to fuck him where he lies. (He wouldn't mind, really.) Draco's hand slides over the buttock and up to his hip, and Harry shifts a little as the fingers come so close to his burning cock. Draco wraps his other hand around Harry's other hip, and lifts up him almost effortlessly.
Harry struggles for a moment at the awkward position. His arse is up in the air and his face is buried in the sheets again, the tie pulling at the corners of his mouth. But then Draco whispers something, and Harry finds himself being lifted by something invisible until he is leaning back against Draco's chest, Draco's hand now cupped under his arse and his legs sprawling into the air.
Draco carries him to the foot of the bed, setting him down on top of the bed post. Harry moans at the contact on his arse, his cock jumping against his stomach. His eyes flutter closed as he squirms on the slick, polished wood, letting it slip between his cheeks. When opens them again Draco is sitting on a chair opposite him, still fully clothed, his hands at his sides. Watching him.
The pressure of the wood against Harry's loose arse is delicious. The ball is not big, but not small either. Harry's eyes roll back as he presses himself down against it, feeling his arse stretch again, taking the post into him. He goes slowly, savouring the feeling of the wood against the inside or his arse and Draco's eyes on his skin.
His cock jumps at every little shift down onto the post. He longs to take it in his hands, but he can feel Draco watching him. He spreads his thighs wide, lifting them so Draco can see clearly where the wood of Draco's bed is sinking into Harry, claiming him.
He pushes down again, and the ball slides smoothly into his arse, beginning to taper again. He groans loudly, throwing his head back. He leans his whole torso back, spreading his hands against the mattress to steady himself. His breath is coming even harsher than before. The air in the room shifts gently, swirling around his balls as they dangle. His cock jumps hard, the exposed head sliding across the base of his belly, and he moans again, long and loud.
"Please," he groans, the bedpost sinking even further into his arse.
Draco's voice is tiny and tight. Harry can barely hear him when he says, "Touch youself for me, Harry. Come for me, Harry."
For Draco.
Harry's hand flies to his cock, wrapping around it tightly as the last part of the post sinks into his arse. He is full, so full, and his hand tugs at his cock urgently. The head is so very wet as his palm slides across it, and Harry gasps at the sensation. His hips jerk upwards rhythmically, pulling his arse against the bed.
He writhes on the bedpost, squirming as the wood rasps gently against his flesh. "Draaa-aa-co," he yells against the tie as he comes forcefully, spilling his seed across his heaving belly. His arse clenches around the neck of the post hard, almost painfully.
He slumps backwards, his elbow slipping out from underneath him and his legs flying up, flailing in the air. The bed post will not release its hold on his arse, and he shifts unconfortably, bucking up.
Draco's hand press against his arse again, gently lifting him him free of the bedpost. Harry shudders at the loss, feeling so empty, and then Draco is lying in between his thighs, entwining his arms with Harry's, kissing him ever so softly.
"Thank you, Harry," he whispers against Harry's nose. The evidence of Draco's appreciation juts against his balls, but Draco makes no move to deal with it. "Thank you."