Sequel to Speed Pr0nz fic
Jul. 6th, 2009 05:38 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
nursedarryTitle: Afterglow (sequel to Aftertaste)
Summary: Poor Ron
Pairing: H/D
Rating: R (just)
Word Count: 1,911
Warnings: Slashy talk
Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction. No characters herein belong to me nor am I making one blessed penny on it.
A/N: Written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
bryoneybrinn and dysonrules’s Speed Pr0nz challenge, using picture prompt #1. Bless her, fairy_mischief offered to beta, but I told her to fill her time with more important things than this old dog. Amazing art is courtesy of moonlitdark, so don't forget to give her some love too!
*
After telling me we were lying dishevelled and covered in come on the Weasel’s bed, I’d scowled, but honestly, I didn’t feel like moving. My mind was too astonished and my body just too sated to do anything but lie there and look at Potter’s flushed face.
“Have you ever done that before?” Potter asked, pushing his glasses up his nose.
I inspected the new liquid stain on my tie. “What, be wanked off by another guy? Yeah, sure, do it all the time—”
“Malfoy…” Potter said in a low tone. He looked at his sticky hand.
“No,” I confessed uncomfortably. Had we really been snogging with him jerking us off just a few minutes ago? It all suddenly seemed very embarrassing and incredibly unlikely.
“Was it okay?” Potter’s expression became quite shy.
I smirked, “No, it was shit, Potter. I think you should practice all night until you get it right,” I said and he relaxed.
“I’m a quick study, so, I’ll move onto to other things if that’s okay with you,” he said. I watched as he tentatively put one of his come-covered fingers in his mouth.
“Nuhh…” I said. My groin almost exploded.
He kept sucking and looked straight at me.
I cleared my throat, trying to sound less of the complete lust-filled twat than I was at the moment. “There’s…there’s more where that came from,” I said and smiled like an idiot, because I couldn’t believe I’d just uttered something so fucking ridiculous.
With a smacking sound, Potter released his finger from his mouth and smiled like an idiot right back at me. “I was hoping you’d say that.” He placed his chin on my chest as his sticky fingers started to unbutton my shirt.
Something seemed to be wrong with my lungs. Breathe, I told myself. If you forget to breathe, you won’t be conscious to enjoy this. I giggled a little hysterically at that thought.
I don’t think Potter noticed though. He was now busy gently tracing the scars that crossed my chest. In the next moment, his face seemed to lose its look of lust and instead he met my glance with regret-filled eyes.
“Malfoy, I’m sor—”
I didn’t want pity; I wanted a blowjob. “Potter,” I cut him off. “Put your mouth on me.” And then I said something that probably meant more than any expression of forgiveness might have. “Please.”
His eyes went very wide and he smiled brilliantly. Scars abandoned, he licked a trail from the bottom of my ribcage to the top of my trousers. Fuck , I thought and reached down to undo them. I once again, unceremoniously pushed my trousers and pants past my hipbones, raising myself off the bed—ugh—Weasley’s bed— in order to get the offending garments out of the way.
Potter took my hardening cock in his hand, gave it a couple of delicious strokes and turned to look up at me. “You can come in my mouth, okay?” he said.
Hearing that, I almost came all over his face. I managed a nod because along with the ability to breathe, my power of speech had now fled. And I think my brain might have shut down too, because god knows, all of the blood in my body was currently headed to the part of me Potter held in his hand.
Without looking at me, he wet his lips and then wrapped them around the head of my cock. I had been holding up my head in order to watch him, but at this, I lost all muscle control in the rest of my body, too, dammit. Dammit, Dammit, DAMMIT— this was fucking fantas—
“—and you’re never going to borrow it again, if that’s the way you’re gonna be!” Weasley’s voice preceded him into the room.
“Shit!” Potter hissed, pulling off of me. I jerked up, nearly displacing him from the bed. In one motion, Potter leaned over, grabbed something off of the floor and threw it over us. His Invisibility Cloak. It’d been in the trunk and he’d tossed it aside as he looked for my wand.
Behind me, I heard the dormitory door squeak open and then a gasp. Weasley’s voice said “Bloody hell! Seamus, Dean, get in here!”
Harry held his finger to his lips, shhhing me as I thought to raise my hips up and get my trousers on. The last thing I needed to show these stupid Gryffindors was a panicked expression and my bits. Over the noise of running feet, I covered myself up and stilled. I didn’t have time to work on the shirt before the noise of two more pairs of feet joined Weasley’s, which were pacing around the room.
“Look at this,” Weasley said. “Someone’s been in here and has gone through our trunks!”
“Not mine.” That was Thomas. “It looks like Harry’s is the only one open.” I could hear more pacing around.
“D’you think anything’s missing?” Irish accent. Finnegan, then.
“I dunno,” said Weasley. “I don’t know what he kept in there, aside from a couple of things.” I heard shuffling and then the distinct popping of joints and saw Thomas’ back as he squatted down to inspect the ‘crime scene’.
Potter looked at me with an apologetic and anxious expression. I tried not to smile. I remembered what I’d been thinking about ridiculous situations, and realised now that Potter stroking me off was nothing compared to this predicament. Suddenly, I had the most bizarre urge to kiss him, but he’d turned his head to watch Weasley sift through his stuff. I slowly ran a finger along Potter’s collarbone just to see what he’d do. He grabbed my hand and held it still.
“There’s a couple of robes here,” Thomas said and I could see Weasley move into view. “Why would he have kept those in the trunk? There’s a perfectly good wardrobe over there.”
I saw Finnegan hold one up. “This isn’t his,” he said. “It’s Slytherin.”
Shit.
Weasley said, “What would Harry be doing with a Slytherin robe in his trunk?”
“I dunno,” said Finnegan, looking inside it. “Doesn’t say anything except ‘M.Malkin’. Nice though…”
Thomas had joined them. “Doesn’t need to say anything.” He pulled something from the collar. “This says it all.” I could see he was holding something up to them, but couldn’t see what it was.
My hand tightened around Potter’s.
“Oh, Merlin,” Weasley said. “I bet he’s had this lying around since sixth year. Remember when he was so obsessed with Malfoy?” Potter turned around and looked at me with a sheepish expression.
Hair. I bet they found a hair in the collar of my robe. Fuck.
“This one must be Harry’s,” Weasley said. He held up the second robe with the Gryffindor crest on it. Thomas had walked behind the bed and I didn’t dare turn under the Cloak to see where he’d gone.
Weasley looked around again and said, “I wonder where Harry is. D’you think he just ran out leaving the place like this?”
“He’s not in the loo,” Thomas said, once again walking back into view. I squeezed Potter’s hand again. Both of us were breathing as quietly as possible, trying not to move or make noise, but we couldn’t stay like this for too long.
“Don’t touch anything else, Ron,” Thomas advised. “If someone did this, then we need to tell McGonagall. She may want to see it.”
“You think someone was after something?” Weasley asked. All three of them looked down at the mess. Finnegan still held my robe, Weasley still held Potter’s robe and Potter and I still held each other’s hands desperately wishing they’d all get the fuck out of there.
“I dunno,” said Thomas. “But if we can’t find Harry, I’ll go get McGonagall. Seamus, see if you can find Neville and ask if he knows anything or where Harry is.” Finnegan handed my robe to Weasley and he and Thomas left my line of site. I heard the door squeak open and closed again and breathed a soft sigh.
Right into Potter’s face.
His pupils dilated and his mouth opened slightly. This time I couldn’t resist. Yes, I was just about to be found by the school’s Headmistress in the Gryffindor 8th year boy’s dormitory with my shirt open and my trousers undone, pressed up against the Boy Who Lived on the Weasel’s bed. My father will be so proud when he hears about this… Might as well go for broke and have my tongue stuffed into Harry Potter’s mouth for good measure.
Potter let out a squeak and squeezed my hand. I’m not sure if he was pleased or worried or both, but all I knew was that we were going to have to get out of this jam as soon as possible, and I wasn’t leaving without a goodnight kiss.
Unfortunately, Weasley chose this moment to sit down on his bed.
On top of Potter.
Who, finding himself suddenly squashed, reflexively uttered “Ow, fuck!” and bit right through my lip.
“Ow!” I also said reflexively, raising my hand to my mouth and seeing it come away bloody. Potter’s lips were also bloody, but we didn’t have time to give these events their due attention because Weasley had leapt off the bed and yanked the Cloak off of us.
“OH. MY. GOD.”
“Er—” Potter said, his standard response to any confusing situation, as I’d come to learn over the course of eight years. “Ron, this isn’t what it looks like.”
“OH. MY. GOD.”
I was half-insulted. Weasley did a more than passable impersonation of a goldfish. I was just hoping he could be convinced to have the memory of one. “Weasley, this is exactly what it looks like and I’ll give you 100 galleons to make sure no one hears about it,” I said.
“OH. MY. GOD.”
Potter and I gracelessly rolled off the bed and I quickly began to button up my come- and now blood-stained shirt.
Potter advanced on Weasley who backed up until he hit the wall. “Ron,” Potter said. Weasley looked like he was about to be sick.
“Harry…? What…? Did you and…?” He looked over Potter’s shoulder at me as I hastily finished doing up my trousers and shrugged into my robes that Weasley had dropped back on the floor.
“Ron, listen—” Potter tried again, but I don’t think Weasley was hearing him very well. I didn’t blame him. I just hope he wasn’t seeing very well, either, because if he was this freaked out now, just wait till he saw the state of his bed.
I strode over to Weasley, who looked as though he’d like to climb through the wall as I approached. I smirked at him as I pulled the Invisibility Cloak from his unresisting hand.
Then I turned to Potter. I reached out and wiped the blood from his lip and then leaned in to kiss him very quickly, wishing I could see the look on Weasley’s face. I reminded myself to ask Potter about it.
Next time.
“Don’t forget. I still want that wand, Potter.” And with that, I threw the Cloak over myself and left the dorm.
The End
Summary: Poor Ron
Pairing: H/D
Rating: R (just)
Word Count: 1,911
Warnings: Slashy talk
Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction. No characters herein belong to me nor am I making one blessed penny on it.
A/N: Written for
bryoneybrinn and dysonrules’s Speed Pr0nz challenge, using picture prompt #1. Bless her, fairy_mischief offered to beta, but I told her to fill her time with more important things than this old dog. Amazing art is courtesy of moonlitdark, so don't forget to give her some love too!*
After telling me we were lying dishevelled and covered in come on the Weasel’s bed, I’d scowled, but honestly, I didn’t feel like moving. My mind was too astonished and my body just too sated to do anything but lie there and look at Potter’s flushed face.
“Have you ever done that before?” Potter asked, pushing his glasses up his nose.
I inspected the new liquid stain on my tie. “What, be wanked off by another guy? Yeah, sure, do it all the time—”
“Malfoy…” Potter said in a low tone. He looked at his sticky hand.
“No,” I confessed uncomfortably. Had we really been snogging with him jerking us off just a few minutes ago? It all suddenly seemed very embarrassing and incredibly unlikely.
“Was it okay?” Potter’s expression became quite shy.
I smirked, “No, it was shit, Potter. I think you should practice all night until you get it right,” I said and he relaxed.
“I’m a quick study, so, I’ll move onto to other things if that’s okay with you,” he said. I watched as he tentatively put one of his come-covered fingers in his mouth.
“Nuhh…” I said. My groin almost exploded.
He kept sucking and looked straight at me.
I cleared my throat, trying to sound less of the complete lust-filled twat than I was at the moment. “There’s…there’s more where that came from,” I said and smiled like an idiot, because I couldn’t believe I’d just uttered something so fucking ridiculous.
With a smacking sound, Potter released his finger from his mouth and smiled like an idiot right back at me. “I was hoping you’d say that.” He placed his chin on my chest as his sticky fingers started to unbutton my shirt.
Something seemed to be wrong with my lungs. Breathe, I told myself. If you forget to breathe, you won’t be conscious to enjoy this. I giggled a little hysterically at that thought.
I don’t think Potter noticed though. He was now busy gently tracing the scars that crossed my chest. In the next moment, his face seemed to lose its look of lust and instead he met my glance with regret-filled eyes.
“Malfoy, I’m sor—”
I didn’t want pity; I wanted a blowjob. “Potter,” I cut him off. “Put your mouth on me.” And then I said something that probably meant more than any expression of forgiveness might have. “Please.”
His eyes went very wide and he smiled brilliantly. Scars abandoned, he licked a trail from the bottom of my ribcage to the top of my trousers. Fuck , I thought and reached down to undo them. I once again, unceremoniously pushed my trousers and pants past my hipbones, raising myself off the bed—ugh—Weasley’s bed— in order to get the offending garments out of the way.
Potter took my hardening cock in his hand, gave it a couple of delicious strokes and turned to look up at me. “You can come in my mouth, okay?” he said.
Hearing that, I almost came all over his face. I managed a nod because along with the ability to breathe, my power of speech had now fled. And I think my brain might have shut down too, because god knows, all of the blood in my body was currently headed to the part of me Potter held in his hand.
Without looking at me, he wet his lips and then wrapped them around the head of my cock. I had been holding up my head in order to watch him, but at this, I lost all muscle control in the rest of my body, too, dammit. Dammit, Dammit, DAMMIT— this was fucking fantas—
“—and you’re never going to borrow it again, if that’s the way you’re gonna be!” Weasley’s voice preceded him into the room.
“Shit!” Potter hissed, pulling off of me. I jerked up, nearly displacing him from the bed. In one motion, Potter leaned over, grabbed something off of the floor and threw it over us. His Invisibility Cloak. It’d been in the trunk and he’d tossed it aside as he looked for my wand.
Behind me, I heard the dormitory door squeak open and then a gasp. Weasley’s voice said “Bloody hell! Seamus, Dean, get in here!”
Harry held his finger to his lips, shhhing me as I thought to raise my hips up and get my trousers on. The last thing I needed to show these stupid Gryffindors was a panicked expression and my bits. Over the noise of running feet, I covered myself up and stilled. I didn’t have time to work on the shirt before the noise of two more pairs of feet joined Weasley’s, which were pacing around the room.
“Look at this,” Weasley said. “Someone’s been in here and has gone through our trunks!”
“Not mine.” That was Thomas. “It looks like Harry’s is the only one open.” I could hear more pacing around.
“D’you think anything’s missing?” Irish accent. Finnegan, then.
“I dunno,” said Weasley. “I don’t know what he kept in there, aside from a couple of things.” I heard shuffling and then the distinct popping of joints and saw Thomas’ back as he squatted down to inspect the ‘crime scene’.
Potter looked at me with an apologetic and anxious expression. I tried not to smile. I remembered what I’d been thinking about ridiculous situations, and realised now that Potter stroking me off was nothing compared to this predicament. Suddenly, I had the most bizarre urge to kiss him, but he’d turned his head to watch Weasley sift through his stuff. I slowly ran a finger along Potter’s collarbone just to see what he’d do. He grabbed my hand and held it still.
“There’s a couple of robes here,” Thomas said and I could see Weasley move into view. “Why would he have kept those in the trunk? There’s a perfectly good wardrobe over there.”
I saw Finnegan hold one up. “This isn’t his,” he said. “It’s Slytherin.”
Shit.
Weasley said, “What would Harry be doing with a Slytherin robe in his trunk?”
“I dunno,” said Finnegan, looking inside it. “Doesn’t say anything except ‘M.Malkin’. Nice though…”
Thomas had joined them. “Doesn’t need to say anything.” He pulled something from the collar. “This says it all.” I could see he was holding something up to them, but couldn’t see what it was.
My hand tightened around Potter’s.
“Oh, Merlin,” Weasley said. “I bet he’s had this lying around since sixth year. Remember when he was so obsessed with Malfoy?” Potter turned around and looked at me with a sheepish expression.
Hair. I bet they found a hair in the collar of my robe. Fuck.
“This one must be Harry’s,” Weasley said. He held up the second robe with the Gryffindor crest on it. Thomas had walked behind the bed and I didn’t dare turn under the Cloak to see where he’d gone.
Weasley looked around again and said, “I wonder where Harry is. D’you think he just ran out leaving the place like this?”
“He’s not in the loo,” Thomas said, once again walking back into view. I squeezed Potter’s hand again. Both of us were breathing as quietly as possible, trying not to move or make noise, but we couldn’t stay like this for too long.
“Don’t touch anything else, Ron,” Thomas advised. “If someone did this, then we need to tell McGonagall. She may want to see it.”
“You think someone was after something?” Weasley asked. All three of them looked down at the mess. Finnegan still held my robe, Weasley still held Potter’s robe and Potter and I still held each other’s hands desperately wishing they’d all get the fuck out of there.
“I dunno,” said Thomas. “But if we can’t find Harry, I’ll go get McGonagall. Seamus, see if you can find Neville and ask if he knows anything or where Harry is.” Finnegan handed my robe to Weasley and he and Thomas left my line of site. I heard the door squeak open and closed again and breathed a soft sigh.
Right into Potter’s face.
His pupils dilated and his mouth opened slightly. This time I couldn’t resist. Yes, I was just about to be found by the school’s Headmistress in the Gryffindor 8th year boy’s dormitory with my shirt open and my trousers undone, pressed up against the Boy Who Lived on the Weasel’s bed. My father will be so proud when he hears about this… Might as well go for broke and have my tongue stuffed into Harry Potter’s mouth for good measure.
Potter let out a squeak and squeezed my hand. I’m not sure if he was pleased or worried or both, but all I knew was that we were going to have to get out of this jam as soon as possible, and I wasn’t leaving without a goodnight kiss.
Unfortunately, Weasley chose this moment to sit down on his bed.
On top of Potter.
Who, finding himself suddenly squashed, reflexively uttered “Ow, fuck!” and bit right through my lip.
“Ow!” I also said reflexively, raising my hand to my mouth and seeing it come away bloody. Potter’s lips were also bloody, but we didn’t have time to give these events their due attention because Weasley had leapt off the bed and yanked the Cloak off of us.
“OH. MY. GOD.”
“Er—” Potter said, his standard response to any confusing situation, as I’d come to learn over the course of eight years. “Ron, this isn’t what it looks like.”
“OH. MY. GOD.”
I was half-insulted. Weasley did a more than passable impersonation of a goldfish. I was just hoping he could be convinced to have the memory of one. “Weasley, this is exactly what it looks like and I’ll give you 100 galleons to make sure no one hears about it,” I said.
“OH. MY. GOD.”
Potter and I gracelessly rolled off the bed and I quickly began to button up my come- and now blood-stained shirt.
Potter advanced on Weasley who backed up until he hit the wall. “Ron,” Potter said. Weasley looked like he was about to be sick.
“Harry…? What…? Did you and…?” He looked over Potter’s shoulder at me as I hastily finished doing up my trousers and shrugged into my robes that Weasley had dropped back on the floor.
“Ron, listen—” Potter tried again, but I don’t think Weasley was hearing him very well. I didn’t blame him. I just hope he wasn’t seeing very well, either, because if he was this freaked out now, just wait till he saw the state of his bed.
I strode over to Weasley, who looked as though he’d like to climb through the wall as I approached. I smirked at him as I pulled the Invisibility Cloak from his unresisting hand.
Then I turned to Potter. I reached out and wiped the blood from his lip and then leaned in to kiss him very quickly, wishing I could see the look on Weasley’s face. I reminded myself to ask Potter about it.
Next time.
“Don’t forget. I still want that wand, Potter.” And with that, I threw the Cloak over myself and left the dorm.
The End
