The Man From H.O.G.W.A.R.T.S. (A Drarry FanFiction)

Chapter Eleven

   Malfoy smirked and rolled over to stand up. Without a hint of awkwardness, he slipped his last shred of clothing over his hips and discarded it onto the floor with the rest of their garments. His cock was like the rest of him – long and lean – and now it was stood fully to attention.

Harry gulped, the sound seeming unnaturally loud in the small hotel room.

Malfoy strolled over where they had discarded their many layers of clothing. He picked up his jacket, removing the mysterious item the receptionist had given him. He crumpled the newspaper that had been wrapped around it into a ball, and dropped it to the floor. In his hand was a glass jar of petroleum jelly. Harry's heart skipped a beat.

"Don't worry, Your Highness," Malfoy purred, crawling back onto the bed to loom over Harry. "I promise to take care of you."

Harry's attention was dragged away from the innocuous pot by Malfoy gently taking hold of his chin and forcing him to look back up at him. He smiled, his face alight with mischief, then kissed Harry tenderly. It was still commanding, all-consuming, but Harry didn't feel trapped by it. He felt elevated.

His mind wasn't completely distracted from thinking about the jelly though. Did Malfoy mean to fuck him? That was certainly the aura he was giving off as he rolled his body over Harry's, their hot, stiff members rubbing up against one another. He gasped.

Harry had partaken in his share of buggery, especially at Eton, surrounded by other schoolboys with far too many hormones and not enough opportunities to satisfy them. But there was a way these things were done. The smaller, more feminine boys were the ones that were on the receiving end; Harry may never have been the tallest, as was evident as he lay below Malfoy, but he had been brawny. He had always been the one doing the fucking, the one in control. He liked to think he always took care of his partners, and they had certainly always come and been pretty delighted with Harry's enthusiasm. But he himself would never had thought he would consent to be the one on the bottom.

Malfoy though had scooped him up in his arms, kissing him with a fierce determination, their bodies pressed together and already slick with sweat. Harry had been desperate to trust him when he thought he might have betrayed him. Now he was desperate to trust him with so much more. Could he really take that risk?

He dug his fingers into his back and moaned. The concern was probably mute at this point, because he doubted he could have halted the night's proceedings even if he had wanted to. His body was too far gone and needed release. He needed Malfoy to give it to him.

As if feeling his urgency, Malfoy pulled back, studying Harry's face as their chests rose and fell in shuddery gasps. Carefully, he reached forward, and removed Harry's glasses from his face, placing them on the bedside table. Harry could still see the man in front of him, but much of the rest of the room became a bit of a blur.

As Malfoy's hand moved back, he plucked up the jar of greasy jelly, and straddled Harry, looking down at him as he unscrewed the cap. He didn't ask, but Harry got the feeling he was looking for a sign that this was alright, that this was want Harry wanted. He couldn't deny he was apprehensive, but he was also willing to try something new. If he could jump out of airplanes and infiltrate terrorist strongholds, he could certainly see what it felt like to have another man's cock up his arse.

He gave a small, but unmissable nod.

"Good," said Malfoy softly.

He discarded the cap, and placed the opened jar by them on the bed. He bent down to once again kiss Harry, dragging his lower lip between his teeth and making Harry hiss, which in turn brought something to mind, even in his aroused state. "What was that language you used earlier?" he asked between shaky breaths. He swallowed, and tried to calm himself, but it was a little difficult as he watched Malfoy take two fingers to scoop out a dollop of jelly.

"Parseltongue," Malfoy said. He shifted so he could snake his arm between them, using his slippery fingers to begin stroking Harry's puckered entrance. He jerked at the foreign sensation, but he didn't move his eyes away from Malfoy's. "You have not heard it before, no?"

"No," Harry stuttered in agreement. It was hard to keep his eyes open when he was being touched in such an intimate fashion. "Some in – invention of the K.G.B.'s?"

Malfoy smirked, pressing his middle finger against his hole, making Harry gasp at the intrusion. Malfoy proceeded slowly, but there was no denying it felt strange being penetrated. Harry took several breaths and forced himself to relax. He brought his hands up and placed them on Malfoy's chest, rubbing them over his pecs and clavicles. His damp skin felt so good under his palms.

Malfoy tutted at him. "Surely Mr MI6 is not trying to extract state secrets from Kremlin?" He pushed his finger further inside, and Harry squirmed as he began to adjust.

"No," he uttered truthfully. "I just..." He gritted his teeth, determined not to blush, especially when he thought about the fact Malfoy had asked that receptionist for the petroleum jelly whilst using their special language, and she had probably guessed exactly what he'd intended to use it for. "I just wondered...if you might speak it again?"

The tip of Malfoy's nose brushed Harry's as he stared into his eyes. He began pulsing his finger back and forth. "You like this language?" he asked, amusement sparkling in his grey eyes.

Harry huffed, trying and failing not to push himself against Malfoy's finger like something wanton. "I just thought it was interesting," he lied. Well, he supposed it was interesting how the exotic sounds had felt like they had set his entire body alight with desire. Is was like being licked by a naked flame, but without the burn. "I've never heard anything like it, if I could understand the verb structures-"

Malfoy forced another finger in.