The Boy Who Lived

Self-Humiliation

The evening that Triple-F had given Harry his list of names and the false trail with the wand, Draco stood behind Harry while he was sitting at the table in the kitchen and rubbed his shoulders. Harry felt the knots releasing and the tension easing under the expert guidance of Draco's long, slender fingers. The table vibrated slightly under his touch when his thoughts strayed to what it might feel like if he were shirtless, and lying on his bed, and if Draco was straddling him, sitting on his thighs, as he worked Harry's bare back, with oily, slick fingers, that started to creep lower. Harry realised he was taking his thoughts of Draco in a direction he was desperately trying to avoid. He groaned aloud in disappointment at his own weakness and banged his head on the table. Luckily it coincided with Draco working on a particularly tense muscle. Harry tried to think of anything other than a semi-naked Draco straddling him (he never questioned why Draco was in a state of undress in his imaginary scenario). It didn't work. He started to find that he was tensing up rather than relaxing. They both leapt in fright when the table legs collapsed and the table-top crashed to the floor with a resounding bang which brought Kreacher and Ruby running into the kitchen as crockery and butterbeer bottles smashed with aplomb.

Kreacher actually had the audacity to smirk.

'Master Harry is being very tense tonight? Perhaps sir is having too much tension on his mind and is needing to relieve it?'

Kreacher looked from Harry to Draco and back again. Harry wasn't entirely sure whether he saw him wink, however, he hurriedly excused himself and went for a long cool shower.

'What does it feel like?' Draco asked a few days later, a familiar blush creeping across his face.

Harry looked at him sharply, silently watching the blush deepen to a brighter red. 'Do we have to discuss this?'

'I just...'

'Have you ever had your big toe sucked?' he said sharply.

Draco scrunched up his nose in disgust, 'NO!'

'Don't knock it until you've tried it.'

'I...' He glanced at his foot, then at Harry.

'No!' said Harry abruptly, second guessing Draco's silent not-request but definite thought.

They both swallowed uncomfortably and stared at Draco's feet. A small crack started to creep through the plasterwork of the ceiling, starting directly above Harry's head.

'Pansy or Astoria must have given you a blowjob...' Harry said quietly, still looking at Draco's foot.

'Yes...' Draco shut his eyes tight. The conversation was so humilating and he could only blame himself.

'Sort of like that, only more... more... everything... Like silk, but tight, smooth, enveloping, and when the prostate is... Merlin... I'm going for a run.' Harry couldn't get out of the room quick enough and Draco heard a succession of door handles hitting the floor along the corridor upstairs.

He didn't see Harry for two days after that conversation.

Draco didn't ask any questions again. But he did find a Muggle shop in Soho and he steeled himself to push open the intimidatingly closed black door between the blacked-out windows underneath the light-up neon sign which said 'Adult Shop'. He felt like a twelve-year-old trying to buy alcohol in a pub. He ended up in the shop for quite a long time but the shop owner was pleasantly understanding. He came home with some 'literature', some lube, and a toy, just a small one. Some of the larger ones were extremely petrifying and the shopkeeper steered him well away from those saying he wasn't in that sort of league. He kept his purchases in the black plastic bag he'd brought them home in and hid the bag at the back of his wardrobe. He didn't open it for several weeks; it was enough of a thrill knowing they were there, waiting for him. It wasn't until Harry and Teddy had gone away for the night to visit Dromeda that he extracted the bag and tipped the contents onto his bed after his evening shower. It felt deliciously illicit and exciting as he flicked through the magazines, looking at images of men together and reading the rubbish stories which were really just an excuse to string the lewd images together. Draco made a very pleasant discovery that night.