Professor McGonagall looked down her nose at them. "I am severely disappointed in the pair of you. You are both Prefects now and the school expects better behaviour from you. This childish brawling is beneath you at your age. Potter, I expected better from you in particular. Malfoy, I shall be speaking to Professor Snape about this, make no mistake. Ten points each from Slytherin and Gryffindor." Draco sneered at her, and Harry resisted the urge to hit him. McGonagall cleared her throat pointedly, glaring at the pair of them. "You will both receive detention on Friday night; report to Mr. Filch directly after dinner."
"Yes Professor," Harry muttered, trying for an air of repentance since Draco had apparently decided on his usual strategy of looking as disagreeable as possible.
"Very well." Professor McGonagall said after a moment's silence. "You're dismissed, but if this happens again there will be very severe consequences indeed."
Harry couldn't get out of there fast enough. He made his way quickly back towards Gryffindor Tower, face hot and more grateful than ever for the concealing nature of the Hogwarts uniform robes. Instead of walking up to the Fat Lady and giving the password, however, he turned sharply to the right and ducked beneath a mouldy-looking tapestry into a disused corridor. There were no candles or torches in here, and the high, narrow windows spilt thin puddles of light onto the dusty floor. Tracking in and out of those puddles were footprints, the marks of shoes in the dust, coming and going. Two distinct pairs of shoes, and many footprints, some almost obscured by tracked-up dust. Harry's footsteps sounded muffled as he moved quickly down the corridor, breathing shallowly to avoid inhaling the motes his feet stirred up. There was only one door leading off the dead-end corridor, and Harry ducked through the archway quickly.
The room was tiny and round, and cluttered with ancient furniture that had long since been removed from use. Mostly it was a random, chaotic collection of legless tables, stained upholstery and rotting armchairs with their springs showing, but in one corner a faded ottoman had been dragged next to a broken-armed sofa and covered with a dust sheet, creating a small oasis of calm. A zig-zagging path had been cleared between the piled furniture, the stones of the floor worn shiny and free from dust. Harry made his way carefully among the deceased chairs and tables, dodging carefully around some of the wobblier-looking piles, and flung himself down onto the ottoman.
Oh God. Harry cradled his head in his hands, acutely conscious of his own arousal. That was too close - far too close� He looked up as Draco, dishevelled and furious-looking, entered the room. Oh hell...
Without a word to Harry, Draco dragged the warped wooden door shut behind him and flicked his wand, muttering a locking spell. Then a silencing charm. Then he turned to face Harry. The scowl on his face was impressive, Harry thought, even by Draco's usual standards. He told himself firmly that he was not going to be intimidated.
"That," Draco announced in his 'feel my wrath' voice, "was a very bad idea, Potter."
Harry folded his arms indignantly. "Oh, like you weren't involved."
"You were the one who accosted me," Draco pointed out as though he were being entirely reasonable.
"You didn't seem averse to being accosted." Harry narrowed his eyes as Draco slunk through the roomful of debris, stopping mere feet in front of him. "I mean, you could have said no, you know. You could have stopped."
Draco shrugged fluidly, the motion rippling through his body and pulling his robes taut against the planes of his chest, and Harry swallowed hard. "I thought you'd checked that map-thing of yours. How was I to know McGonagall was prowling around?" He scowled. "Do you have any idea what would have happened if this got out?"
I'd have lost you. "Plenty. And it could have been worse - she could have walked in five minutes later."
"God, don't make me imagine it..." Draco muttered, eyeing Harry in a way that did absolutely nothing to dispel his lingering arousal.
"Yeah." At this distance, Harry realised he could smell Draco, a scent compounded of sweat and leather and the lingering musk of their earlier encounter in the stairwell. Privately, Harry consigned the Head of Gryffindor House to Hell on a fast broomstick. "At least she thought we were fighting," he offered weakly, fixated on the undone top buttons of Draco's shirt and the flash of pale skin that showed through the gap. He wondered if Draco was as hard beneath that robe as Harry was right now.
"Hmph. But now we have detention, Potter. On Friday night. With Filch."
Harry shrugged. "Yeah, well, maybe he'll leave us to get on with cleaning or whatever. And it could have been worse."
"McGonagall found us shoved up against the wall and tearing at each others' clothing. How could this be worse?"
"She could have realised we were...well..." Harry blushed a little, wondering exactly how to describe it. "She could have walked in while you had your tongue down my throat."
Draco smiled at him, a slow and seductive smile, and moved a few inches closer, rocking onto the balls of his feet. "She could have walked in while I had my tongue elsewhere."
Oh God. Harry swallowed convulsively, reaching out and running one hand from Draco's hip down to his knee. "Was that what you were planning? Before we were interrupted?"
Draco's eyes held a predatory gleam. He reached out, touching the tip of one finger to Harry's temple and dragging it oh-so-slowly down to his jaw. "I could have been persuaded."
Harry shivered, curling his fingers possessively around the back of Draco's knee. "Could you? How about now?"
Draco smiled, slipping the finger underneath Harry's chin and lifting his face up. "Well, that depends - what will you give me if I do?" He leaned down until his lips were a whisper of a breath away from Harry's. Harry closed his eyes, exhaling raggedly, desperate for more of Draco's touch.
"Anything," he whispered. Draco laughed softly and kissed him, slipping his tongue into Harry's mouth to tease at his own. Harry moaned into Draco's mouth, parting his lips and clutching at Draco's shoulders. A laugh shuddered through Draco's chest and he climbed onto the ottoman without breaking the kiss, straddling Harry and pushing him down onto his back. Their tongues twined hungrily, and Harry arched upwards, pressing himself against Draco. Their hips met and ground together, erections pressed hard against each other and rubbing deliciously.
Draco pulled away from the kiss, flashing Harry a breathless grin and pressing himself hard against the other boy as he buried his face in Harry's throat. Harry wrapped one leg around Draco's knee and bit hungrily at Draco's ear, sliding one hand down between their bodies to run his fingers over Draco's straining cock. Too many clothes, he thought muzzily, clutching at the fabric of Draco's robe and tugging it vainly upwards. Draco took the hint, sitting up (hips pressing down across Harry's with an almost unbearable weight and friction) and yanking his robe off over his head. His shirt buttons were still undone from their earlier encounter, his tie askew.
Harry gasped for breath, the knot of sensation in his groin sending stabs of warmth from his stomach to his knees and making it hard to think. Draco looked down at him for a moment, clothing askew and hair rumpled, and Harry thought he had never looked so delicious. He fumbled with the buttons of his own robes, desperate to feel Draco's talented hands on his skin, but Draco's weight frustrated his efforts and eventually he gave up and attacked the fastenings of Draco's trousers instead. Draco laughed down at him, arching his hips forward against Harry's fingers, and shrugged his shirt back off his shoulders. Pale skin, an unbroken expanse from collarbones to narrow waist, and Harry wanted, wanted it all, wanted so much...
He wriggled backwards, yanking his robes out from beneath him and pulling them over his head, then returning to the enticing bulge in Draco's trousers. Harry skimmed his fingertips over the tented fabric and smiled as Draco inhaled on a gasp and pushed himself forward into Harry's hand. Haste making his fingers stumble, Harry tugged on buttons and zips and pushed his hands inside the waistband of Draco's boxers, desperately needing to touch. Draco's cock was hard in his hands, begging for attention, and as Harry wrapped his fingers about the length of it and stroked hard, Draco tipped his head back with a shuddering moan, hands falling limply away from Harry's shoulders. Harry grinned, freeing one hand to tug Draco's trousers down his hips.
Draco pulled out of his grasp, kicked out of his remaining clothes and stretched himself beside Harry on the ottoman, winding one arm around his waist and pulling him into a long, slow kiss. His other hand reached for Harry's trouser fly and efficiently undid buttons, shucking Harry out of his clothes as quickly as he could. Harry was about to protest at the loss of contact, but then Draco wriggled closer and pressed himself against Harry and suddenly Harry forgot whatever he had been going to say and could only push back against Draco's hips, their cocks rubbing together and sending delicious sparks wandering through him. Oh God, yes, yes, he thought incoherently, clutching Draco tight against him and sucking on a patch of skin in the hollow of his throat; their legs were tangled together, skin against skin and Harry moaned against Draco's throat, feeling the shudder as Draco echoed him.
"Oh God," Draco panted in Harry's ear, arching against him. "I can't wait, Harry, fuck me..." He wrapped one leg around Harry's thigh, rolling onto his back and pulling Harry atop him. They were pressed so tightly against each other now that it was almost painful; Harry bit at Draco's throat, leaving a blotchy red mark, then sought his mouth again blindly. Draco pushed up against him, legs invitingly parted and lips open to Harry's seeking tongue. Harry licked slowly along the roof of Draco's mouth, eliciting a gasp and a shudder and the tightening of Draco's arms around him.
"Are you sure?" Harry pulled away long enough to ask. "I thought you wanted to..."
"I can't wait," Draco whispered hoarsely, eyes dazed and almost black with lust, sending shivers through Harry's bones. "I need you inside me now - the rest can wait..." Harry leaned down to kiss him again, lingeringly, their tongues meeting hungrily, then disentangled himself with some difficulty from the cage of limbs Draco had wound around him. Draco made a sound of bewildered protest and Harry shushed him, reaching for a cracked jar that sat on the shelf above them. After some fumbling - the picture Draco made, sprawled naked on the ottoman with his hair mussed and falling into his eyes and his erect cock weeping for attention, was very distracting - he extracted a small glass bottle and shoved the jar carelessly back where it belonged.
Draco made a small whimpering noise, his cock twitching, as Harry crawled back to kneel over him, pulling the stopper from the bottle with his teeth and drizzling the oil liberally over his fingers. He reached down carefully, probing, and Draco lifted his hips eagerly with a tiny little gasp as Harry slipped one finger slowly inside him.
"Yes?" Harry moved the finger slowly, bending forward to lick hotly at Draco's right nipple.
"God yes!" Draco panted, arching and twisting his hips. Harry withdrew the finger briefly, then added another, stretching carefully and pressing fleetingly just there so that Draco bucked up from the dustcloth with a curse and almost snatched the oil bottle from Harry's hand. Harry had just slipped the third slick finger inside Draco when he felt wet, oily hands close about him, stroking raggedly up and down and coating his erection with the faintly scented stuff. Draco laughed breathlessly at his gasp, pushing down onto Harry's fingers and tightening his hands with a slight squishing noise. Harry twisted his fingers and saw Draco's eyes briefly cross.
"Now," Draco demanded raggedly, clutching at Harry's shoulders with slippery fingers and lifting his hips sharply, cock bobbing eagerly.
"Pushy," Harry muttered, sliding his fingers out and grasping Draco's hips, positioning himself. Draco's laugh turned into a moan as Harry pushed inside, and Harry echoed him, encased in tight pulsing heat that turned his bones to water.
"Oh God," they groaned in unison, Draco lifting his legs and wrapping them around Harry's hips, holding on tightly. Harry remained still for a moment, buried deep inside Draco and trying to convince his body not to come immediately. Draco's cock was pressed hard against his stomach, slick with precome, and Draco's head was thrown back, his eyes tightly shut.
"Yes?" Harry gasped, flexing his hips slightly, and Draco shivered all over, cock stirring and eyelashes flickering gold like candlelight. He nodded jerkily, and Harry withdrew gently before thrusting slickly back in, setting a slow pace that was just enough to keep Draco from coming on the spot. Draco shuddered and rocked beneath him, arching into Harry's thrusts and making little mewling sounds of pleasure and desperation. His cock was rock-hard against Harry's stomach now, and Harry groaned and pushed into him harder, drowning in the tightness and friction. Draco tipped his head way back, body arching, and reached down, muscles clenching around Harry's cock as he stroked urgently at his own. Harry almost passed out, almost lost control completely, but managed to shift his weight, grabbing Draco's hand and pinning it flat to the cushions.
Draco made a harsh, desperate sound, and writhed beneath him, arching up hard to meet him. Harry exhaled on a shuddering gasp and bent forward to lick wetly at the sweat-drenched skin of Draco's throat, tilting his hips and thrusting harder, deeper, so that every long dizzying slide into tight heat hit just there, and Draco gasped and convulsed beneath him, muddled words pouring from his lips, words like "oh, yes, Harry, God, oh, yes, yes..." and writhed and Harry couldn't have stopped if he'd wanted to, if McGonagall had walked in on them again, he thrust hard, there, there, oh God, buried himself in Draco's body and felt the hot wet pulsing against his stomach as Draco came with a hoarse incoherent cry and spasmed so hard around him that Harry fell after him, losing all thought in the bliss of climax.
They lay glued together with sweat, breathing in ragged gasps and pressing kisses and murmurs into each others' damp skins. After a moment, Draco laughed breathlessly. "God."
"Yeah," Harry murmured, rolling off Draco onto his side. He was drenched in sweat, and badly in need of a shower, and he couldn't care less about lost points or detentions. "What time is it?"
"No idea." Draco draped one arm across him, pulling him close. Harry kissed his shoulder lightly, admiring the love bites he'd left on that pale throat. He'd have to charm them away before they returned to their respective Houses. "But I think we missed dinner."
"Oh." Food was the last thing on Harry's mind. "Oh well."
"Yeah." Draco smirked at him. "You get better every time, Potter. I'm glad I decided to fuck you instead of kill you."
Harry laughed, wrapping his arms around Draco's slim form and kissing the corner of his mouth. "Me too," he murmured against the other boy's flushed skin. Draco flicked out his tongue and teased at Harry's lower lip, then pulled away, examining Harry.
"You're a mess." He dragged one finger through the slick of drying come on Harry's stomach, holding it up to Harry's lips. Harry slid his mouth over it slowly, wrapping his tongue wetly around the finger and watching Draco's eyes widen. Then he pulled away.
"You're dirty too. Now we really look like we've been in a fight." It was true; Draco's fair skin was flushed, his mouth swollen and neck bruised. Harry thought he must be in a similar state.
Draco laughed again. "Only if you ignore the 'naked and covered in come' parts."
"Well, true." Harry smiled slowly and drew a fingernail slowly across Draco's nipple, watching his breath catch and his eyes glaze. "There's hours yet, though. And no one's going to find us."
"Ever talented at stating the obvious," Draco murmured with a smirk, but his eyes were wicked as he pulled Harry against him. "What exactly did you have in mind...?"