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Title:Malfoy's Room
Authors:[livejournal.com profile] obliviateamores, Kiarawolf
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: ~3000 words
Summary: Every time they have a fight, Malfoy goes into a particular locked room. Harry is rather curious about what's in there.

Notes: Collab written on tumblr as a succession of messages. Paragraphs alternate authors (first para is Kiarawolf).

Harry watches Malfoy disappear around a corner. Careful not to make too much noise, he hurries to follow. It doesn’t take long for them to reach their destination; Malfoy looks over his shoulder (Harry clutches his invisibly cloak tighter) and then moves through the door. Harry's quite familiar with this door by now. Every time he and Malfoy fight, the blonde git makes his way here afterwards. And then about five minutes later, he'll leave, face flushed and robes askew. If only Harry knew what Malfoy did in there... or how to get in.

The next time they fight, Harry rushes to the door before Malfoy has time to get there. He tries to push it open, but it seems to be locked. He glances behind him, expecting Malfoy to appear at any moment. He pulls out his wand, and mutters 'Alohomora', and slips into the room. He quickly locks it behind him again, before turning round to look properly at Malfoy's hideaway.

The room is completely empty. Harry frowns. Why on earth would Malfoy want to come to an empty room for a few minutes every time they fight? It makes no sense… unless it's not actually empty. Hastily, Harry casts several spells; but nothing he tries has any luck. The door rattles, so he steps backwards into a corner. He re-arranges his invisibility cloak, which has slipped up somewhat during his spell casting.

The door opens.

It's Malfoy of course, and Harry watches warily as the blonde boy moves into the room, closing the door behind him with an echoing click. Leaning back against the shut door, Malfoy closes his eyes and swallows heavily. After a while, he sighs. Harry then watches as Malfoy lifts his bag off his shoulder, and then, whispering the release of a spell that Harry's used many a time to hide those precious last Honeyduke’s candies from Ron, Malfoy reaches deep into his bag.

Harry takes a step towards Malfoy, trying to see what he's taking out, but he's keeping whatever it is close to his body. He moves closer still, but a floorboard creaks under him. He freezes, cursing silently at himself. He should have silenced the floor before he moved. He knows what Hogwarts is like - half of it hasn't been repaired since about the twelfth century.

Malfoy whirls round, dropping his bag and whatever he'd just pulled out of it. 'Who's there?' he calls, but his voice trembles slightly. He lifts his wand and points it in Harry's general direction.
'Blaise, if you're following me under a disillusionment charm again, I swear I will rip your bollocks off.'
He scowls again, then casts 'Homenum Revelio', which Harry knows has no effect on his cloak. Malfoy relaxes slightly when the spell reveals nothing, and turns back round. Harry grins, before directing a non-verbal silencing charm at the floor just in front of him with a little effort, and then continuing to move forwards.

The floor doesn't creak at all as Harry slowly inches closer to where Malfoy is. Malfoy, now apparently convinced that he's all alone, lifts the object out of his bag and into clear view. It's a glass vial, perhaps as long as Harry's pinkie finger and filled with a slightly viscous, clear substance. A potion? Does Malfoy sneak into this room to take some kind of... calming draught? Harry shuffles a step closer, trying to get a closer look at the vial... But Malfoy wraps his fingers around the little glass tube, tucking it safely into his fist as he shrugs out of his outer robes. As Malfoy reaches next for his tie, working the green knot loose with one hand, Harry feels a blush starting to creep up the back of his neck.

Malfoy pulls off the tie, tipping his head back and running his own hands down his chest. He drops the green and silver fabric on top of his robes, carefully adds the glass vial to the top of the pile, and slowly starts to undo his shirt buttons. Harry is suddenly unable to look away, uncomfortable as he is starting to feel. The v-shape of palest white skin at Malfoy's neck extends, and Harry finds his eyes drawn down to follow Malfoy's fingers as they finish the buttons and shrug the shirt off. All of a sudden, it feels very warm under his cloak.

Harry watches as Malfoy, now completely bare-chested, bites his lip, closes his eyes, and throws his head back against the door. He continues to watch as Malfoy lifts his hands and brushes light fingers over his own lips; a small gasp escapes him at the touch. He's touching the cut I gave him, Harry thinks. That's exactly where I punched him, during our fight. But Harry has scant time to dwell on the thought, for now Malfoy's hands are leaving his lips and moving into his hair. His fingers thread through the blonde strands roughly. And then Malfoy's hands move down, skating over his neck and his shoulders...

And suddenly the only thought in Harry's head is, 'Oh, fuck,' and he doesn't really care any more that this is Malfoy he's looking at. Because there is something transfixing about the movement of his fingers as they trail over his nipples and down his chest to the waistband of his trousers. The fingers seem to have an elegance of their own as they dance around Malfoy's sharp hipbones. Harry feels himself let out a small gasp as he watches Malfoy drop his hand to skate over the crotch of his trousers, but it is lost in Malfoy's suddenly heavy breathing.

And Harry can't help but take another step closer, trusting his previous spell to muffle the movement; not that he thinks Malfoy's in any state to notice, given the laboured way he's breathing. And still Harry can't tear his eyes off Malfoy's fingers. He's seen them before of course, up close and personal during a punch, wrapped tight around a broomstick during Qidditch, and elegantly guiding a wand during Charms... but as those same delicate pale digits dip below Malfoy's waistband, disappearing under the cloth, Harry thinks that this is perhaps the best thing he's ever seen them do.

Malfoy is breathing more quickly as well as more heavily now, and Harry feels his heart racing as those fingers move to the clasp his arse through his trousers - trousers which always seem to be just a touch more fitted and well made than everyone else's - and start to undo the fastenings. The fingers tremble slightly, and Harry's breath catches in his throat as the trousers come loose and the hands slide back round to the jutting hipbones to gently lower them over the perfect swell of his behind. And god, how has Harry never noticed Malfoy's arse before? His hands slide between it and the door as he pulls off the slim black trousers.

Fuck, Harry thinks. His own trousers are rapidly growing tight as he watches Malfoy lower his. It doesn’t help that Malfoy's hands are once again moving, one sneaking behind his arse and the wall, squeezing harshly, the other flirting towards the front of his pants (silk, Harry somehow manages to notice) to fondle the bulge that is hiding there. Harry holds back a whimper at the sight. Merlin, he is hard.

And now the beautiful fingers are stroking up and down the front of Malfoy's pants, and rubbing in small circles along the now distinct shape of Malfoy's cock through the fabric. And then the other hand comes back up and he trails the back of his hand along his jawline to his chin - how had Harry ever thought that his chin was pointy and ugly? - and now up to his mouth. Malfoy's fingers caress his own lips, where Harry had punched him, while his other hand begins to move more firmly against his crotch.

Malfoy is starting to groan now, the anguished sounds arriving at the completion of each circle that his fingers are making over his crotch. Merlin, Harry thinks, hot and aching... and suddenly he can't hold back any longer. Relying on his head to keep the invisibly cloak from slipping down, he unbuckles his belt. Quietly, he lets his trousers fall to his knees. Harry watches while Malfoy's hand finally takes a firm grasp of his cock, his hand tugging harshly while the fingers against his cut lip remain feather-light.

Suddenly, Malfoy's fingers stop moving against his cock, and Harry freezes. Has he somehow been heard? But Malfoy quickly moves to take off his pants, kicking off his shoes and stepping out of the trousers that have pooled round his feet. He turns and bends down to his pile of clothes. Now all Harry can see is the fantastic rear view of Malfoy, and he pushes down his boxers, silently wishing for him to turn back so he can see what he looks like from the front. Harry gasps as he realises what Malfoy was picking up, and is tipping a little of the contents of into the palm of one hand.

Malfoy settles himself on his knees, his head towards the door and his bare, goose-prickled arse facing towards Harry. Harry watches, a hot hand on his cock, as Malfoy shifts his knees out, further and further until Harry can see between Malfoy's glorious cheeks, to the small pink pucker there. And then Malfoy's hand, slicked with what Harry now realises must be lube, reaches back and explores the exposed area. Harry gasps as one of Malfoy's digits disappear. Did Malfoy really just...? The finger sinks further in, and Malfoy's other hand works harder on his cock, and Harry wonders what it'd be like if he was the one to earn that response from Malfoy... The thought has Harry squeezing the base of his cock, because fuck if he's going to come so quickly...

Malfoy's finger moves slowly in and out, before he adds another and gently presses his fingers into himself. He throws his head back, and then shifts round slightly, affording Harry a glimpse of Malfoy's other hand moving slowly up and down his cock. Despite himself, Harry's hand starts to move more quickly up and down his cock. Malfoy pauses for a second, before settling himself more comfortably on his knees, and his eyes flutter shut as he seems to twist his fingers inside himself, and he lets out a groan. The fingers start to thrust in and out, and Malfoy moves against them, letting out grunts of pleasure and working his cock with his other hand. Harry starts to time the pumps of his own hands on his cock with Malfoy's thrusts, and watches in awe as Malfoy speeds up more and more.

Harry knows that he's not going to last much longer, and from the frantic way Malfoy's fingering himself, it doesn't seem like the other boy will be able to hold out much more either. Harry can't look away, pumping himself in sync with Malfoy's wanton moans, feeling the heat building as Malfoy continues to gasp and squirm and sweat... "Potter," Malfoy cries out, and Harry freezes. Has he been too loud? Did the invisibility cloak slip? Has Malfoy been putting on this... this show, knowing that Harry's been here watching the whole time? "Fuck, Potter, harder," Malfoy whimpers, and Harry watches as the fingers thrust deeper.

And then he realises that, oh god, Malfoy is thinking about him, and as he watches Malfoy come on his hand, crying out his name, he groans, and succumbs, and lets out a wordless moan as he, too, comes. Fuck. He's just had one of the best orgasms he's ever had watching his enemy wank while crying out his name. Merlin, he's screwed up. But he must have groaned just a little too loudly, because Malfoy has jumped up, withdrawn his fingers from his exquisite arse, and snatched up his wand. And god, he still manages to look fantastic, standing naked in an empty classroom, glaring towards Harry. Fucking hell, Harry thinks, and freezes in alarm. 'Whoever's there, let me tell you something,' Malfoy begins, slowly advancing towards the space that Harry's groan had come from. 'If you breath a single word of what you just saw, you perverted little fuck, I will castrate you with a rusty knife and hang your balls up in the Great Hall for everyone to see.'

Malfoy advances closer, and Harry - despite still being in a post-orgasm haze - knows that he has to do something. After all, he wouldn't put it past Malfoy to start throwing hexes at thin air, and while Harry's cloak may be able to grant him invisibility, it's not a shield. Slowly, not wanting to make a movement that would startle Malfoy into stunning him, Harry lifts the cloak away from his feet. Malfoy's eyes snap to Harry's trainers, and he freezes in place as he watches, wide-eyed, as Harry's legs are revealed, and then his spent and sticky cock, and then his shirt... and finally Harry's lifting the cloak over his head and letting it fall to the floor. Malfoy's eyes meet his, full of a roiling sea of emotions that Harry can't even start to pick apart. "And if I tell no one," Harry says, "what will you do with my balls then, Malfoy?"

Malfoy seems to be lost for words. 'Were... Were you here the whole time?' He asks in disbelief.
Harry blushes. 'Um, yes.'
'How did you find this room? And how did you get in?' Malfoy appears to be starting to panic slightly.
'Well, I followed you a few times, and I wanted to know what you were doing in here,' Harry replies. Then he glances up to meet Malfoy's eyes with lifted eyebrow. 'Is this what you've been doing every time?'
Malfoy glares slightly. 'You didn't seem to have any problem with it just now,' he says, directing a glance at Harry's spent cock, a staring at it for just a moment too long.
Harry grins, starting to feel more confident. 'Well, I have to admit it was quite a good show to watch.'
Part of him can't believe he's actually just admitted to Malfoy, of all people, that he enjoyed watching him wanking. But oh, Merlin, had he enjoyed it.
Malfoy raises his chin, seeming to gather his poise and composure despite still being rather indecent. "Well, I wasn't aware of any... audience. I promise you that if this had have been an actual show, you'd rate it better than just "quite good.""
Harry grins. "I guess I won't know that till I've seen it, will I?"
"Well, you may need to wait a while for that to happen." Malfoy's eyes slip down to his cock again, and Harry feels himself twitch slightly at the attention. "After all, I think it's only fair that next time... you're the one on display."
"Next time, huh Malfoy? Fine, but I'm warning you, my show may be a bit more... interactive."
Malfoy starts to smile, a slow, almost mischievous smile that is nothing like the sneers he usually directs at Harry. He saunters a little closer to Harry, and his hips sway very slightly as he walks, and Harry cannot look away. Malfoy crouches down in front of him, balancing his wand between two fingers.
'Interactive? Well, I think I can handle that.'
Then without any warning he directs a quick cleaning charm at Harry's cock, then stands up in one fluid motion and walks back across the room to his clothes. He directs two more cleaning charms at himself, and bends down to pick up his clothes, leaving Harry with an excellent view of his rear. He swallows heavily, then stands up himself and pulls up his clothes again. Unable to resist, he moves slowly towards Malfoy, who has now once more got his pants and shirt on. He turns towards Harry as he approaches, his mouth falling open slightly in surprise. Harry cannot resist it, and abruptly leans in and presses their mouths together.

Malfoy quickly adjusts to the kiss, grasping Harry's bottom lip between his teeth and pulling. He smirks when Harry groans. Malfoy then moves his lips along to Harry's ear, nibbling the lobe and wreaking havoc on Harry's breathing. He licks a path up the edge of Harry's ear and then comes back to the centre, breathing: "I'll start without you if you don't get here soon enough after our next little... confrontation. Don't keep me waiting, Potter." He bites Harry's lobe a final time - relishing the small whimper that escapes the other boy - before stepping back.

As Harry desperately tries to breathe normally again, Malfoy turns and puts the rest of his clothes back on. He slings his bag over his shoulder and raises an eyebrow at Harry. 'See you around, Potter,' he says lightly, and with a flick of his wand, unlocks the door and strolls through it.
It shuts with a snap, leaving Harry flabbergasted. He's not quite sure how to process what just happened, but a grin slowly spreads over his face. He takes a last look around the room, then runs back out into the corridor. Ron and Hermione will be wondering where he is.
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