Epilogue
(A.K.A. The Obligatory Porn Scene… Sorry, I mean: The ‘Adult Fiction’ Scene!)
Hermione and Ron had reacted
much better than had been anticipated, Harry mused as he hurried down the
corridors to his rendezvous with Malfoy. When he said that he couldn’t tell them where
he and Malfoy would be meeting, and that he wouldn’t
see them until breakfast, Harry expected at least a bit of resistance. All he had gotten in response was a pair of
wide eyes from Ron and a worried expression from Hermione. Harry smiled.
His friends really were trying hard to get used to the fact of him and Malfoy being together.
He met with Malfoy as planned, and they spent a few moments getting
reacquainted with each other in the corridor before Harry insisted they move on
to somewhere more private. Malfoy was fascinated by the secret door and passageway,
and as soon as they arrived in the circular room, Malfoy
had only spent a brief moment to take in his surroundings before noticing the
door opposite.
“Where does that door lead
to?”
“The Hufflepuff dormitory.”
“Really?” Malfoy immediately
scooted straight to door, and then he headed out along the passage.
“Malfoy! Be careful—you don’t want to risk anyone
finding out about this, do you?”
“Trust me, Potter,” Malfoy grinned back round the door. “I wouldn’t risk this spot for the
world!”
At the end of the
passageway, Malfoy listened for a few minutes with
his ear to the door. Finally, he opened
it and peeked out.
“Empty!” he announced before
disappearing into the room.
A moment later, he appeared
once more, stuffing a pillow and a sheet into the passage.
“Don’t just stand there
gawping, Potter. Give us a hand,” Malfoy demanded before disappearing once more. Harry dutifully collected the pillow and
sheet, taking them back to the circular room.
When Malfoy
returned he was struggling with another sheet and a blanket.
“I’m assuming it was
Ernie’s,” Malfoy explained as he began to lay the
bedding out, constructing a makeshift bed.
“The drawers by it were emptied. Looks like they’re not expecting him back anytime soon.”
“I heard he’s in St. Mungo’s,” Harry commented, helping Malfoy
straighten out the bedding. They finished, and Malfoy
looked up at Harry with a look of unadulterated perversion.
“Now then, Potter. Didn’t you mention something about
‘positive-reinforcement therapy’?” Malfoy looked
around the room once more, considering what Harry must have witnessed. “So Pansy and Ernie were… while you were in
here under your cloak?”
Harry nodded, embarrassed.
“You dirty perve!” Malfoy joked, and he
pulled Harry close. “Do you want to do a
re-enactment—so whenever the memory comes back to you, you automatically think
of me?”
“A re-enactment?” Harry queried, feeling
a bit awkward now the moment had come for them to push things further. He guessed that at least this way he’d have
some sort of guidelines from which to work.
“Okay, I’ll give it a go.”
“Do you want to be Pansy or
Ernie?” Malfoy asked in all seriousness.
“Er…”
Harry dithered, lost for words, not expecting roles to be assigned.
“Can’t decide? I’ll be Pansy
then,” Malfoy asserted. “I assume she was the more dominant of the
two.”
Harry swallowed nervously,
anticipating what was to come, but also very well aware of his own
inexperience. Part of him just wanted to
get their first time at being this intimate with each other out of the way so
that, once more, he could feel at ease being alone with Malfoy.
“Tell me—in detail—what
happened,” Malfoy began huskily. “From the moment they were both in the room.”
“A… As soon as they came in
here, Pansy had Ernie against the wall and w… was kissing him.”
Harry’s breath left him as
he was pushed next to the door, with Malfoy pinned
against him. Malfoy
was grinning, clearly enjoying the role-play and Harry’s stunned
expression. He leaned in and started to
kiss Harry, to which Harry eagerly responded.
Harry was starting to relax slightly, now that things had begun and they
were back to the familiar territory of kissing.
They kissed slowly and deeply, relishing the contact between their
mouths. Eventually—and to Harry’s
frustration—Malfoy broke it off, tilting his head
back and smiling.
“Like that?” he asked, to
which Harry nodded. “What next?”
“She…” Harry felt
butterflies waking in his stomach. He
hadn’t really appreciated until this moment just how fast things had progressed
between Ernie and Pansy. He found it
quite a scary prospect to think that he was that close to having Malfoy finally touch him.
“She didn’t waste any time—they didn’t have long before Ernie had to go
back—sh… she unzipped his trousers.”
Malfoy’s smile widened
even further. He looked downward as his
hand moved towards Harry’s own zipper, brushing over the outline of Harry’s erection. Harry gasped at the feel of another’s hand
touching him, even though it was only brief and through the material of his
trousers: Harry was well aware of it being a taster of what was to
come. Painfully slowly, Malfoy unhooked the clasp at the top, and then he worked
the zipper all the way down. The
anticipation was flooding Harry’s senses, he couldn’t do anything, and he
couldn’t think; he could only stand there, feeling his nerve endings tingling
at the closeness of Malfoy’s hand. Pushing the material from Harry’s hips, Malfoy let the trousers fall into a pool on the floor. He then cupped his hand over Harry’s groin,
eliciting a moan from Harry. They kissed
deeply, Malfoy moving his hand gently up and down,
and Harry issuing further noises around Malfoy’s
mouth. Harry’s heart swelled at the new
sensation of being touched this intimately—especially knowing that Malfoy was enjoying it as well.
Malfoy drew his lips an
inch away from Harry’s, but he still continued the rocking motion of his hand.
“And now?” Malfoy asked.
“They laid
down,” Harry replied, trying to sound in confident, but ending up speaking in a
breathless croak.
“Sexy voice
there!”
Malfoy jested, stepping away from Harry and making himself comfy on the cushions. He patted the space next to him. “Come on, then.”
Harry jerked into movement,
half-falling, having forgotten that his trousers were now entwined around his
ankles and feet. Malfoy
must think I’m such an idiot! I’m so nervous, I’m even shaking. Malfoy smirked,
receiving a pained look from Harry in response, then his expression softened,
and he gently took Harry’s face in his hands to kiss Harry affectionately.
“Calm down, Potter. Let me
take control,” Malfoy insisted, and he shifted to
remove the clothing and shoes from around Harry’s feet. “You just try to enjoy yourself. So, what next?”
“They kissed some more, and
there were… there were hands all over the place…”
Malfoy cut Harry off
with his lips, and they entangled their arms around each other, pulling their
bodies close. Harry shuddered with
excitement as he felt Malfoy’s trousers against his
bare legs and groin underneath the thin layer of cotton. He could feel Malfoy
was as hard as he was. Malfoy’s hands soon found their way underneath Harry’s
shirt, and they began to lightly trace the skin across Harry’s back, sending
shivers up his spine. This increased
Harry’s feeling of need, and he tugged at the lower half of Malfoy’s
shirt, pulling it free from its confines.
He had a flashback to the desire felt the other night—of wanting to
remove Malfoy’s shirt completely so he could explore
more of the pale skin—and Harry broke the kiss to bring his hands round to the
buttons at the front. They were both
breathing hard now, and Harry’s hands were still shaking as he fumbled to
remove the shirt. As smooth skin began
to peek through Harry leant forward to press his lips against it, still
continuing to unbutton the rest.
“Mmm,
Potter, you randy little devil…” Malfoy sighed as he
lay back to give Harry better access.
Harry ran his hands over Malfoy’s upper body,
revelling in the feeling of skin against skin.
Malfoy’s own hands were soon running along
Harry’s back and tugging at Harry’s shirt.
“Are you going to take yours off as well?”
Harry obliged, and both
shirts were chucked across the room.
Harry tried to continue his exploration of Malfoy’s
chest, but he didn’t get the chance; Malfoy wrestled
him into the cushions and began to kiss along his shoulder. Harry let his eyes roll back into his head,
melting into the embrace, trying to pull Malfoy flush
against him. He didn’t succeed at that,
either; Malfoy was stubbornly keeping a gap between
their bodies. Harry’s frustration
changed to relief, though, as he felt a hand move between them, fingers softly
circling Harry’s navel. They skirted
lower and ran along the inside edge of elastic of Harry’s underpants. Harry’s breath hitched.
“Can I?” Malfoy
murmured by Harry’s ear.
“Yes. Please.”
Harry let out a groan as Malfoy’s hand worked its way inside the fabric to grasp
Harry’s erection. Malfoy’s
first movements were slightly jerky, but he then moved to lie on one side of
Harry, giving his arm more room. Harry
absently kissed Malfoy while focusing on the
exquisite sensations coming from his groin.
“I’m… going to…” Harry
panted.
“Didn’t think
you’d last long!” Malfoy jested. Harry suddenly jerked his hips upward, come
landing across his stomach.
Smiling at Malfoy’s smug face and panting hard, Harry gasped at the
contact as Malfoy removed his hand and brushed once
more against Harry in the process. Harry
lay there for a while, letting his eyes fall closed and trying to catch his
breath. Inside, he felt warm and content—thanks
to Malfoy—and now he was quite happy to stay there,
wallowing in a place halfway between sleep and consciousness. But his post-orgasmic peace was soon broken
by the sensation of Malfoy’s fingers dipping in and
out of the stickiness on Harry’s belly.
“Malfoy,
what are you doing?” Harry asked, opening his eyes a crack to look at Malfoy. Malfoy was playing with the gummy substance and creating
strings between Harry’s body and Malfoy’s digits.
“Just curious,” Malfoy stated matter-of-factly, as he lifted two fingers to
his nose and sniffed. Harry’s eyes
widened, and then Malfoy took the fingers into his
mouth, sucking the tips of them clean.
“I wanted to know if it tastes the same as mine.”
“You’ve tasted your own?”
Harry asked incredulously, never having even considered the idea before.
“Yes. Haven’t you?
You’ve never wondered what it’s like?” Harry shook his head. “Yours doesn’t taste that different to mine.”
“Have you done that a lot
then?”
“Occasionally,” Malfoy admitted.
“It’s definitely an acquired taste… but it’s not that repulsive!”
he added as Harry tried to hold back a look of disgust.
Malfoy dipped his index
and middle fingers in once more, swirling them round. He held them up to Harry’s face.
“Go on, Potter. Give them a suck!”
Tentatively, Harry held his
tongue out. He lapped at the fingers and
tasted the bitter fluid. It’s
certainly not butterbeer! I can’t believe Malfoy’s got me tasting my own come… He then instinctively opened his lips wider to
let Malfoy’s fingers enter his mouth. Closing his lips back round them, he sucked
gently, pulling them in and out in a rocking motion.
“I can tell what you’re
going to be good at!” Malfoy joked, causing Harry to
blush and turn his head away from Malfoy’s
fingers. Looking at the mess still on
Harry’s stomach, Malfoy screwed his face up and then
started rummaging through cushions for his wand. “Abluere!”
Once Harry had been cleaned
off, Malfoy pulled Harry’s face back round for a
kiss. This time Harry could taste
himself, on his own tongue and on Malfoy’s; he didn’t
expect it to, but it thrilled him, and he soon lost himself to melding his body
once more with Malfoy’s. The feeling of Malfoy’s
hardness sticking into Harry’s hip pushed him into action. He wanted to bring Malfoy
over the edge—to be responsible for making Malfoy
gasp and shudder. His hands, which had
been savouring the feel of Malfoy’s back, moved
downwards and round to the front.
“Get these off,” he muttered
around Malfoy’s lips.
“Insistent, aren’t we!” Malfoy jested, but he was still quick to comply with
Harry’s request. “I take it we’re giving
up on the role-play now."
Harry smiled, and he tried
to help Malfoy in removing his trousers. Instead, Harry found his fingers were shaking
once again with nerves and sheer eagerness—they were just getting in the
way. So he sat back and watched as Malfoy unashamedly removed the rest of his clothing. Harry’s mouth began to water; he couldn’t
wait to run his hands over what he had previously considered ‘out of
bounds.’ His earlier apprehension and
feeling of being scared by their intimacy had now been completely washed away
by a sense of anticipation.
As soon as Malfoy had finished, Harry pushed him onto his back,
placing his hands straight onto Malfoy’s smooth hips,
thumbs brushing along the bone. Malfoy groaned, and in response to the sound of pleasure,
Harry let instinct take him, kissing the skin alongside his left hand as his
right tentatively ran over Malfoy’s twitching
erection, taking in the new terrain.
Harry’s hands brushed lower, and Malfoy let
his legs fall open slightly, making it easier for Harry to take Malfoy’s sac fully into his palm. As Harry continued to kiss and lick the silky
skin, he glanced over at the proud flesh jutting out inches away from him and
could see a bead of pearly white liquid collect at the tip. Harry moved slightly and swiped at it with
his tongue, prompting a guttural moan from Malfoy. That was all the prompting Harry needed, and
he was soon enthusiastically kissing and licking every last bit, with Malfoy writhing beneath him.
“Potter,” Malfoy gasped.
“You’d better move slightly, or you risk getting it in the eye!”
Thankful for the warning,
Harry worked his way downwards to kiss softly at the base, instead letting his
hand run where his mouth was before.
Within moments, Malfoy was gasping as he came,
his body going rigid. Knowing that it
was because of what he had done, Harry felt a rush of warmth flood through him
and an urge to make Malfoy feel that way again and
again.
Curious after Malfoy’s earlier comparison, Harry couldn’t resist taking a
quick lick to find out what Malfoy tasted of before
sitting up.
“Yours is slightly sweeter,”
Harry observed.
“Apparently, what you eat
can affect it—I did eat a lot of doughnuts at dinner, so that might’ve had
something to do with it,” Malfoy suggested. “Although, I’ve never noticed the difference
personally…”
They performed the cleaning
charm once more, and Malfoy insisted that Harry
finally remove his underpants. They then
lay together, lazily kissing and basking in the wonderful sensation of being
completely naked in each other’s company.
There was nothing that Harry could compare with this feeling of being so
close to another person. He let the
entirety of it wash over him: the heavy smell of sex in the air; the touch of Malfoy’s skin against his own; the sight of Malfoy’s body lined up next to his own; and—most of all—the
moments when their eyes connected, letting Harry know that Malfoy
was finding it just as satisfying.
“I could get used to this,” Malfoy commented.
“So don’t you dare tell anyone where this room is—not even Granger or Weasley—I’m not willing to share.”
“So you intend for us to
stay here every night?” Harry asked, unable to keep the smile from his face.
“Too bloody
right!
Unless you’re ill, of course, then you can go and be snotty in your own bed.”
“I think I’d like that—not
being ill, but being here with you…” Harry trailed off, embarrassed. “Am I being too soppy?”
“Not yet, but you are
straying close to the mark,” Malfoy said firmly, but
his eyes betrayed the pleasure he felt at Harry’s comment. “Just don’t do it too often—I’m worried that
it might be catching, and it won’t do to have a sentimental Slytherin!”
Harry felt his cock twitch
and looked down at Malfoy’s. Perhaps being premature wasn’t such a bad
thing at their age—not when their recovery time was so quick. He began to kiss Malfoy
deeply, and Malfoy eagerly responded, pressing his
body flush against Harry’s. But then Malfoy pulled back, eliciting a frown from Harry.
“Hang on a minute,” Malfoy said as he began to rummage through cushions and
clothing once more. He pulled out a
small bottle. “It’s a type of hand
lotion, I think. I nicked it from the
hospital wing, when I was waiting for you to stop trying to get an excess of
sympathy by feigning unconsciousness.”
Malfoy poured some into
his hand and rubbed it over his own erection.
“Are you sure it’s safe to
put there?” Harry asked, waiting for something horrific to happen.
“Yeah, I tried it out
earlier.”
“Er… what exactly
are you planning on doing?” Harry then asked, a little
concerned at Malfoy’s possible plans.
“What we did that night in
the Room of Requirement,” Malfoy nonchalantly
confirmed as he rubbed some over Harry. “Only without the clothes getting in the way this time.” Malfoy glanced at
the residue of lotion left on his hands before wiping it unceremoniously on an
available cushion.
“Oh!” Harry said dumbly,
liking the sound of Malfoy’s suggestion.
Any further thoughts or
conversation were abruptly put out of Harry’s mind as skin met skin once
more. Their movements began slowly,
pressing body against body, hands savouring every contour they encountered—both
of them trying to have as much skin in contact with each other as
possible. Despite their desperate quest
for physical closeness, their kisses were still soft, lips brushing together,
their tongues gently playing. Harry had
no idea how long they indulged in each other in this way; all he knew was he
could have carried on all night without complaint. But the end was inevitable at some
point. Harry felt so euphoric at being
entwined this closely with Malfoy that he didn’t want
to separate afterwards, and so he willingly ignored the mess that would previously
have left him cringing. There they lay,
occasionally sharing a lazy kiss, holding on to each other before they drifted
off to sleep, content in the knowledge that tomorrow night—and every night, if
they wanted to—they would be able to fall asleep in exactly the same way.