Birthday present.
Today is the birthday of three very wonderful people.
Happy Birthday to ladymora, emmagrant01 and mijan.
You are all incredible women and I am glad to have you in my life.
Mora, I will probably see you before you see this and I will be able to give you much love in person.
Emma and Mijan, you are too far away for me to be able to give you the hugs you deserve so instead I give you my first ever Potterporn story.
Title: Proxy, or What Happens to Harry when He Listens to Fred and George
Author: Hazel Hawthorne
Pairing: For you ladies? Would I think of giving you anything but H/D?
Word Count: 2345
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Being forced to work with Draco after the war is driving Harry crazy. Fred and George know just what he needs. Is he crazy enough to take their advice?
Disclaimer: Jo left her toys in the sand box. I promise to put them back where I found them.
Beta : Um... In the interest of posting this while it is still August 12 where I live (even if it isn't still Mijan's birthday where she lives) there was no beta. If you see anything glaring, or even subtle that you think could use improvement, feel free to comment.
And now...
It was Wednesday night so Harry was at Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes helping the twins with their new line. Except he wasn’t being much in the way of actual help. The third time he blew something up, Fred dragged him out of the lab and pushed him onto a sofa while George busied himself summoning tea.
An Intervention, they called it. He was a Danger to Himself and Others, they proclaimed. He needed to work out his anger and frustration in Constructive Ways, they said.
In other words they thought Harry Needed to Get Laid.
Harry’s hopeful gleam was promptly quashed as they reminded him that they were Settled Men now and didn’t do That Kind of Thing anymore (except with Susan and Morag and each other, of course, in which case they did All Sorts of Things). Besides, they said, Harry’s anger and frustration had nothing to do with Redheads so fucking them wouldn’t be an appropriately Cathartic Outlet. He needed, they said, to have angry, pounding, anonymous sex with a Blond. And, they said, they knew just The Place.
*****
Which was how Harry found himself sitting at a corner of the bar in The Place (yes, that was, in fact, its name, just The Place.) sipping something smoky which he had yet to actually taste as the alcohol content had burned away all his taste buds at the first sip. Wednesday nights didn’t seem to be a peak traffic time. It was definitely an upscale establishment. The main room was decorated in rich fabrics and finely crafted furnishings. Well, not so much - decorated - it was more a matter of having Décor. Yes, The Place had the Décor of a Gentleman’s club. The Place also had a dress code and a strict policy of anonymity that required all patrons to don domino masks charmed to alter their facial structure as well as hide their eyes. Harry caught a glimpse in the mirror of a square jawed, high cheek-boned man wearing his messy black hair and chuckled at how much he resembled a muggle comic hero Dudley used to watch on TV.
Harry reached a decision. He slammed back the last of his drink, blew the smoke out through his nose and turned to face the door in the back corner of the room. The door through which the few other patrons had disappeared for various lengths of time. He had been observing the etiquette of the behavior and while several men had gone in in pairs or groups, it seemed just fine for a single man to slip into the darkness. He squared his shoulders and wove a path through the sparsely populated tables.
The room beyond the door was dark. Dark enough that Harry considered casting Lumos just so he could be sure not to trip over anything. Or anyone, he amended as his shuffling boot contacted something that gave, and then issued an invitation.
Harry stepped back to the wall and pressed himself against it. Why had he thought this was a good idea? When was the last time Fred and George had given him advice that didn’t get him into situations a sane person should never have to face?
Oh, yes. That was it. Harry wasn’t sane. Even when he wasn’t being forced to work with that overbearing, smarmy, slimy, preening peacock of a slytherin he didn’t have any delusions of having a stable mental state, and after the past two weeks of rounding up the dregs of the Death Eaters with Malfoy at his side, he was expecting the witches in the little white caps to come fetch him off to a bed beside the Longbottoms in St Mungo’s resident ward.
He looked into the sweaty, panting darkness surrounding him and wondered if that wouldn’t be an improvement. At least Frank and Alice wouldn’t moan so loudly. (Oh, Merlin! where was a good Obliviate when you needed one. He’d never be able to face Neville again with that thought in his head.)
Harry decided to go home alone, get drunk, throw darts at the picture of Malfoy from the Witch Weekly interview about how he had worked from within to help bring down He Who Could Now Be Named Again (but Why Would We Want To?) and then pass out in his parlor with his cock in his hand. That plan had gotten him through so far. It had to be better than whatever was making that man in the corner shriek like Remus in the Shack.
The door should be just about… A rapidly expanding shaft of light forced his eyes to squint. A man slid through and closed the door behind him in an unhurried manner. An unhurried manner calculated to allow dark-adapted eyes to register the sleek blond hair and the slim figure in tailored green robes.
Bollocks! The twins were right. Harry didn’t need to be nailing Malfoy’s photo to his dartboard, he needed to be nailing Malfoy. Or a reasonable facsimile thereof. This one, Harry thought, should do nicely. He turned to follow the slightly lighter patch of darkness that was the head of his prey.
Harry had almost caught up to the Proxy (as Harry dubbed him) as he made his way down the left-hand wall when the pale blob of hair suddenly disappeared. Harry lunged forward and found himself with a handful of drape. In the room beyond, the darkness was less complete. The halo of silvery hair shone like a beacon but Harry took a moment to observe the scene before him.
The room was small and sparsely furnished with only a few low, padded benches and the walls were covered with fabric over a soft layer of cushioning. There did not appear to be any other exits. There were two other figures in the room. One was kneeling over a bench while the other slid into him in long, languorous strokes.
The Proxy, seemingly not inclined to join the couple, leaned against the wall, opened his robes and started pumping his arm in an unmistakable manner. The faint light glinting off bare thighs removed the last of Harry’s hesitation. The fact that the Proxy had come to this sex club with nothing under his robes stoked Harry’s arousal in unexpected ways and he started imagining the smooth silk of Malfoy’s robes hanging over bare skin and caressing Malfoy’s ass with every movement as they chased down Death Eaters
Harry leaned close to the blond and indicated his moving fist and the rutting men with a sweep of his hand.
“You just here to watch?” he whispered.
“That depends what else is on offer.” Came the snarky reply.
‘Perfect’ Harry thought as the tone fed his anger as well as his lust.
Harry’s hands encircled both of the Proxy’s wrists and raised them to the wall over his head. The Proxy’s robe fell open further and Harry eased his body between the pale thighs and pressed close to the bare skin.
“Your hands bound to the wall.” Harry hissed into the Proxy’s face. “Me free to do whatever I please.”
“That sounds intriguing.” The cool, smug tone was so close to Malfoy’s that Harry almost started believing it could be him. He gave a mental snort. Malfoy wouldn’t be caught dead in a place like this. “What if you do something I don’t like?”
“Then you deal with it.” He transferred both wrists to his left hand. “I won’t hurt you.” He drew his wand. “At least not in any way that will scar.” And he bound the Proxy’s hands with a word.
Any protest the blond might have made disappeared when Harry dropped to his knees and devoured the erection before him.
“Now this, I can deal with.” He gasped.
Harry pulled off the leaking cock and growled out a spell to limit the Proxy’s voice to non-verbal sounds. He couldn’t even guess how many times he had wanted to do that to Malfoy and he settled back to his voracious sucking with satisfaction. The moans above him only drove him on. When the Proxy tried to thrust into Harry’s mouth he dug ruthless fingers into the pale hips and bit down in warning. This was his show. For once Harry was in charge and could do whatever he wanted. What he wanted now was to control this man. To possess him. With one hand wrapped firmly around the thick base he alternated taking the cock deep into his throat and swallowing around the head with pulling back and teasing the head with his tongue and teeth. He pushed the Proxy’s legs further apart and cupped the balls in his other hand, rolling them under the tight skin.
His cock was painfully hard inside his trousers and he could feel a spreading wetness across the front of his pants. He increased his suction and pressed firmly just behind the Proxy’s balls and was rewarded with a mouth full of come.
Without swallowing he pulled his mouth from the still twitching cock and shoved the Proxy around so he was facing the wall. Harry flipped the open robe over his shoulder, pried the pale arse cheeks apart and used his tongue to press the semen into the Proxy’s tight pucker. Unable to wait any longer, Harry unzipped his trousers as he stood up and fit his body close against the Proxy’s. His cock was slick with his own precome and the waiting ass crack was slippery with saliva and come. He rutted against the firm arse for a minute and then lined himself up to push inside. He paused. The man was still moaning and gasping and certainly seemed to be enjoying himself but Harry suddenly had a need to be sure he wasn’t crossing the line. He released the spell limiting the Proxy’s voice and whispered
“I’m going to fuck you now. It’s going to be fast and it’s going to be hard. You have any problem with that?”
“My only problem is that you’re wasting time talking. Come on and fuck me already!”
Harry didn’t like being ordered around, but this was one order he was ready to comply with. He nudged his cockhead just inside and then sank himself to the hilt in one hard thrust.
Yes! This was what he needed. Next time Malfoy’s cocky attitude stoked Harry’s anger he would just remember how it felt to push him up against a wall and fuck him senseless.
Take that you smarmy Slytherin. I don’t give a shit about your money or about your estate or about how you managed to come out of the whole war smelling like roses instead of coated with the stench of your double betrayal.
I don’t care that you salvaged enough of your family’s political clout to pull being assigned as my partner over my objections.
None of it matters because I know what it’s like to pound your ass in the back room of a club.
I know how you sound when I thrust a little too hard and I’m going to keep on doing it cause that pained little gasp is just too fucking precious.
Yeah.
That’s the sound I will replay in my head the next time you pull out that superior tone.
Do your pure blood cronies know you let strangers tie you up and fuck you, Malfoy? Maybe they know already. Maybe that’s how you got their support. Did you let them fuck you?
Oh, yeah.
Next time one of them stands up for you. I’m going to be able to look him in the eye and think about this. Think about how good it feels to crush your face into the wall as I slam into your ass over and over.
Oh…
Fucking…
God…
that’s good.
Yeah.
Take it Malfoy.
Harry slammed into the Proxy one last time, stood rigid with his cock buried as deep as it could go and shuddered with the force of the most overwhelming orgasm he could remember. He relinquished his fistful of blond hair and let his face rest on the Proxy’s shoulder while he caught his breath. Then he stepped back, tucked himself back into his pants and zipped up.
The other two men had left at some point and Harry was suddenly aware that he was alone with a strange man in the back room of a gay sex club. A strange man he had just brutally fucked as a stand in for his childhood enemy turned professional adversary. And he had enjoyed it. He wasn’t sure if he should go back to the twins’ house to thank them or punch them.
Wherever he was going, he just knew he no longer wanted to be here. As he pushed the curtain aside a discrete cough caught his attention. Shit. He had forgotten to undo the binding spell. He mumbled a Finite Incantatem and took a few deep breaths. Mask or no mask, he didn’t want to show his face in the light until he could stop blushing from the embarrassment.
The blond fastened his robes and started rubbing his wrists. Harry had a vision of walking through the well-lit main room with this man in awkward silence, or even worse, getting caught in an agonizing conversation and turned to leave again.
The curtain fell behind him and he was half way across the dark room when a soft voice close behind him stopped him dead in his tracks.
“Just remember, Potter,” the voice whispered in his ear. “I know that you like to fuck strange wizards in the backrooms of gay bars. And the next time you get all riled up and shove me up against a wall at work, I’ll be remembering how it felt to come in your mouth. And do try to get enough sleep tonight, Potter. We have a busy day tomorrow.”
Harry was immobile as Malfoy brushed past him.
He was still standing there when the bartender turned on the lights to clean up for the night.
Fred and George had just ruined his life.
Maybe the nice bartender would be willing to call the witches in the little white caps.
Happy Birthday to ladymora, emmagrant01 and mijan.
You are all incredible women and I am glad to have you in my life.
Mora, I will probably see you before you see this and I will be able to give you much love in person.
Emma and Mijan, you are too far away for me to be able to give you the hugs you deserve so instead I give you my first ever Potterporn story.
Title: Proxy, or What Happens to Harry when He Listens to Fred and George
Author: Hazel Hawthorne
Pairing: For you ladies? Would I think of giving you anything but H/D?
Word Count: 2345
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Being forced to work with Draco after the war is driving Harry crazy. Fred and George know just what he needs. Is he crazy enough to take their advice?
Disclaimer: Jo left her toys in the sand box. I promise to put them back where I found them.
Beta : Um... In the interest of posting this while it is still August 12 where I live (even if it isn't still Mijan's birthday where she lives) there was no beta. If you see anything glaring, or even subtle that you think could use improvement, feel free to comment.
And now...
It was Wednesday night so Harry was at Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes helping the twins with their new line. Except he wasn’t being much in the way of actual help. The third time he blew something up, Fred dragged him out of the lab and pushed him onto a sofa while George busied himself summoning tea.
An Intervention, they called it. He was a Danger to Himself and Others, they proclaimed. He needed to work out his anger and frustration in Constructive Ways, they said.
In other words they thought Harry Needed to Get Laid.
Harry’s hopeful gleam was promptly quashed as they reminded him that they were Settled Men now and didn’t do That Kind of Thing anymore (except with Susan and Morag and each other, of course, in which case they did All Sorts of Things). Besides, they said, Harry’s anger and frustration had nothing to do with Redheads so fucking them wouldn’t be an appropriately Cathartic Outlet. He needed, they said, to have angry, pounding, anonymous sex with a Blond. And, they said, they knew just The Place.
*****
Which was how Harry found himself sitting at a corner of the bar in The Place (yes, that was, in fact, its name, just The Place.) sipping something smoky which he had yet to actually taste as the alcohol content had burned away all his taste buds at the first sip. Wednesday nights didn’t seem to be a peak traffic time. It was definitely an upscale establishment. The main room was decorated in rich fabrics and finely crafted furnishings. Well, not so much - decorated - it was more a matter of having Décor. Yes, The Place had the Décor of a Gentleman’s club. The Place also had a dress code and a strict policy of anonymity that required all patrons to don domino masks charmed to alter their facial structure as well as hide their eyes. Harry caught a glimpse in the mirror of a square jawed, high cheek-boned man wearing his messy black hair and chuckled at how much he resembled a muggle comic hero Dudley used to watch on TV.
Harry reached a decision. He slammed back the last of his drink, blew the smoke out through his nose and turned to face the door in the back corner of the room. The door through which the few other patrons had disappeared for various lengths of time. He had been observing the etiquette of the behavior and while several men had gone in in pairs or groups, it seemed just fine for a single man to slip into the darkness. He squared his shoulders and wove a path through the sparsely populated tables.
The room beyond the door was dark. Dark enough that Harry considered casting Lumos just so he could be sure not to trip over anything. Or anyone, he amended as his shuffling boot contacted something that gave, and then issued an invitation.
Harry stepped back to the wall and pressed himself against it. Why had he thought this was a good idea? When was the last time Fred and George had given him advice that didn’t get him into situations a sane person should never have to face?
Oh, yes. That was it. Harry wasn’t sane. Even when he wasn’t being forced to work with that overbearing, smarmy, slimy, preening peacock of a slytherin he didn’t have any delusions of having a stable mental state, and after the past two weeks of rounding up the dregs of the Death Eaters with Malfoy at his side, he was expecting the witches in the little white caps to come fetch him off to a bed beside the Longbottoms in St Mungo’s resident ward.
He looked into the sweaty, panting darkness surrounding him and wondered if that wouldn’t be an improvement. At least Frank and Alice wouldn’t moan so loudly. (Oh, Merlin! where was a good Obliviate when you needed one. He’d never be able to face Neville again with that thought in his head.)
Harry decided to go home alone, get drunk, throw darts at the picture of Malfoy from the Witch Weekly interview about how he had worked from within to help bring down He Who Could Now Be Named Again (but Why Would We Want To?) and then pass out in his parlor with his cock in his hand. That plan had gotten him through so far. It had to be better than whatever was making that man in the corner shriek like Remus in the Shack.
The door should be just about… A rapidly expanding shaft of light forced his eyes to squint. A man slid through and closed the door behind him in an unhurried manner. An unhurried manner calculated to allow dark-adapted eyes to register the sleek blond hair and the slim figure in tailored green robes.
Bollocks! The twins were right. Harry didn’t need to be nailing Malfoy’s photo to his dartboard, he needed to be nailing Malfoy. Or a reasonable facsimile thereof. This one, Harry thought, should do nicely. He turned to follow the slightly lighter patch of darkness that was the head of his prey.
Harry had almost caught up to the Proxy (as Harry dubbed him) as he made his way down the left-hand wall when the pale blob of hair suddenly disappeared. Harry lunged forward and found himself with a handful of drape. In the room beyond, the darkness was less complete. The halo of silvery hair shone like a beacon but Harry took a moment to observe the scene before him.
The room was small and sparsely furnished with only a few low, padded benches and the walls were covered with fabric over a soft layer of cushioning. There did not appear to be any other exits. There were two other figures in the room. One was kneeling over a bench while the other slid into him in long, languorous strokes.
The Proxy, seemingly not inclined to join the couple, leaned against the wall, opened his robes and started pumping his arm in an unmistakable manner. The faint light glinting off bare thighs removed the last of Harry’s hesitation. The fact that the Proxy had come to this sex club with nothing under his robes stoked Harry’s arousal in unexpected ways and he started imagining the smooth silk of Malfoy’s robes hanging over bare skin and caressing Malfoy’s ass with every movement as they chased down Death Eaters
Harry leaned close to the blond and indicated his moving fist and the rutting men with a sweep of his hand.
“You just here to watch?” he whispered.
“That depends what else is on offer.” Came the snarky reply.
‘Perfect’ Harry thought as the tone fed his anger as well as his lust.
Harry’s hands encircled both of the Proxy’s wrists and raised them to the wall over his head. The Proxy’s robe fell open further and Harry eased his body between the pale thighs and pressed close to the bare skin.
“Your hands bound to the wall.” Harry hissed into the Proxy’s face. “Me free to do whatever I please.”
“That sounds intriguing.” The cool, smug tone was so close to Malfoy’s that Harry almost started believing it could be him. He gave a mental snort. Malfoy wouldn’t be caught dead in a place like this. “What if you do something I don’t like?”
“Then you deal with it.” He transferred both wrists to his left hand. “I won’t hurt you.” He drew his wand. “At least not in any way that will scar.” And he bound the Proxy’s hands with a word.
Any protest the blond might have made disappeared when Harry dropped to his knees and devoured the erection before him.
“Now this, I can deal with.” He gasped.
Harry pulled off the leaking cock and growled out a spell to limit the Proxy’s voice to non-verbal sounds. He couldn’t even guess how many times he had wanted to do that to Malfoy and he settled back to his voracious sucking with satisfaction. The moans above him only drove him on. When the Proxy tried to thrust into Harry’s mouth he dug ruthless fingers into the pale hips and bit down in warning. This was his show. For once Harry was in charge and could do whatever he wanted. What he wanted now was to control this man. To possess him. With one hand wrapped firmly around the thick base he alternated taking the cock deep into his throat and swallowing around the head with pulling back and teasing the head with his tongue and teeth. He pushed the Proxy’s legs further apart and cupped the balls in his other hand, rolling them under the tight skin.
His cock was painfully hard inside his trousers and he could feel a spreading wetness across the front of his pants. He increased his suction and pressed firmly just behind the Proxy’s balls and was rewarded with a mouth full of come.
Without swallowing he pulled his mouth from the still twitching cock and shoved the Proxy around so he was facing the wall. Harry flipped the open robe over his shoulder, pried the pale arse cheeks apart and used his tongue to press the semen into the Proxy’s tight pucker. Unable to wait any longer, Harry unzipped his trousers as he stood up and fit his body close against the Proxy’s. His cock was slick with his own precome and the waiting ass crack was slippery with saliva and come. He rutted against the firm arse for a minute and then lined himself up to push inside. He paused. The man was still moaning and gasping and certainly seemed to be enjoying himself but Harry suddenly had a need to be sure he wasn’t crossing the line. He released the spell limiting the Proxy’s voice and whispered
“I’m going to fuck you now. It’s going to be fast and it’s going to be hard. You have any problem with that?”
“My only problem is that you’re wasting time talking. Come on and fuck me already!”
Harry didn’t like being ordered around, but this was one order he was ready to comply with. He nudged his cockhead just inside and then sank himself to the hilt in one hard thrust.
Yes! This was what he needed. Next time Malfoy’s cocky attitude stoked Harry’s anger he would just remember how it felt to push him up against a wall and fuck him senseless.
Take that you smarmy Slytherin. I don’t give a shit about your money or about your estate or about how you managed to come out of the whole war smelling like roses instead of coated with the stench of your double betrayal.
I don’t care that you salvaged enough of your family’s political clout to pull being assigned as my partner over my objections.
None of it matters because I know what it’s like to pound your ass in the back room of a club.
I know how you sound when I thrust a little too hard and I’m going to keep on doing it cause that pained little gasp is just too fucking precious.
Yeah.
That’s the sound I will replay in my head the next time you pull out that superior tone.
Do your pure blood cronies know you let strangers tie you up and fuck you, Malfoy? Maybe they know already. Maybe that’s how you got their support. Did you let them fuck you?
Oh, yeah.
Next time one of them stands up for you. I’m going to be able to look him in the eye and think about this. Think about how good it feels to crush your face into the wall as I slam into your ass over and over.
Oh…
Fucking…
God…
that’s good.
Yeah.
Take it Malfoy.
Harry slammed into the Proxy one last time, stood rigid with his cock buried as deep as it could go and shuddered with the force of the most overwhelming orgasm he could remember. He relinquished his fistful of blond hair and let his face rest on the Proxy’s shoulder while he caught his breath. Then he stepped back, tucked himself back into his pants and zipped up.
The other two men had left at some point and Harry was suddenly aware that he was alone with a strange man in the back room of a gay sex club. A strange man he had just brutally fucked as a stand in for his childhood enemy turned professional adversary. And he had enjoyed it. He wasn’t sure if he should go back to the twins’ house to thank them or punch them.
Wherever he was going, he just knew he no longer wanted to be here. As he pushed the curtain aside a discrete cough caught his attention. Shit. He had forgotten to undo the binding spell. He mumbled a Finite Incantatem and took a few deep breaths. Mask or no mask, he didn’t want to show his face in the light until he could stop blushing from the embarrassment.
The blond fastened his robes and started rubbing his wrists. Harry had a vision of walking through the well-lit main room with this man in awkward silence, or even worse, getting caught in an agonizing conversation and turned to leave again.
The curtain fell behind him and he was half way across the dark room when a soft voice close behind him stopped him dead in his tracks.
“Just remember, Potter,” the voice whispered in his ear. “I know that you like to fuck strange wizards in the backrooms of gay bars. And the next time you get all riled up and shove me up against a wall at work, I’ll be remembering how it felt to come in your mouth. And do try to get enough sleep tonight, Potter. We have a busy day tomorrow.”
Harry was immobile as Malfoy brushed past him.
He was still standing there when the bartender turned on the lights to clean up for the night.
Fred and George had just ruined his life.
Maybe the nice bartender would be willing to call the witches in the little white caps.