Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/399841.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Harry_Potter_-_J._K._Rowling
  Relationship:
      Neville_Longbottom/Draco_Malfoy
  Character:
      Neville_Longbottom, Draco_Malfoy
  Additional Tags:
      Community:_pornish_pixies
  Stats:
      Published: 2004-08-31 Words: 2174
****** Come When You're Called ******
by Memorycharm_(tzy)
Summary
     Draco owes Neville a debt and tries to play him. Neville gets the
     upper hand.
Notes
     Written in 2004 for a fantasy fest at pornish_pixies on LJ.
"Look. I owe you. Wizard's debt and all that," Malfoy whispered. He glanced
over his shoulder.
Neville frowned. If he'd known saving Malfoy's life would mean anything like
this, he'd never have done it. Not that he meant to do it in the first place.
It was his bad luck to be in just the right spot to overhear Baxter casting the
curse on Malfoy's broom, and his further bad luck to produce the most perfect
levitating charm his wand (old or new) had ever seen, just in time to cushion
Malfoy's speedy descent towards the Quidditch pitch.
A mumbled "thanks" at Dumbledore's prodding was all Neville got from Malfoy
that day, and that was weird enough. The idea of Malfoy owing him anything made
him intensely uncomfortable. But the gossip was already starting--he'd heard
the jokes in the corridors.
"So I'm supposed to get myself into danger so you can save me and repay the
debt?" Neville said, stepping back. Malfoy was crowding him in the small
alcove.
"No. Look. There are other ways," Malfoy said. "You're one of us, Longbottom,
you ought to know...." Neville must have looked confused, because Malfoy sighed
dramatically and rolled his eyes. "If both wizards agree, the debt can be paid
off in any way they like."
"Fine. Give me a chocolate frog, and we're even." It was hot and stuffy in the
alcove, and Malfoy smelled like fancy soap.
Malfoy snorted. "Don't be dense. It's got to be significant. Sacrifice of the
body, or something like that. I've got to do something for you. And quickly,
please. I don't fancy leaving school owing you a wizard's debt."
Neville considered. "Well, there are some seedlings you could repot for me.
I've been crossing Spiny Stickleweed with--" He broke off his sentence at
Malfoy's horrified look. It was just as well. He didn't like the idea of
letting Malfoy loose on his Herbology project.
"God, Longbottom, can't you just ask for a blowjob like a normal wizard?"
"What?" Neville squeaked out the word and felt his face flush deep red. Of
course Malfoy noticed immediately. His mouth contorted into its most nasty
sneer.
"A gobble. A spit and polish for your wand," Malfoy said, stepping closer with
each word. Neville's face was burning; he felt sweat droplets begin to creep
down his forehead. "You know. I imagine it'd be your first. I know it'd be your
best," Malfoy said, leaning close so his fringe brushed Neville's cheek.
"Sh- shut up," Neville said, pushing past him and starting down the corridor.
Malfoy's taunting laughter followed him.
 
That night, Neville couldn't sleep. Images of pale hair and wet lips--lips that
nibbled and sucked--filled his thoughts. Malfoy was right; he'd never got that
far, with anyone. He wanted to. Dean said it was brilliant (after making
Neville and Seamus swear on the honor of Gryffindor that they wouldn't tell
Ron). Neville had spent most of winter term staring at Ginny's mouth.
Neville let his hand slip down into his pajamas. The embarrassment of wanking
to thoughts of Malfoy wasn't strong enough to make the need go away. He grasped
his prick and brought himself off as quickly as he could.
The next time Malfoy cornered him, he pushed Neville into an empty classroom.
Arithmancy, Neville thought, by the shining equations inscribed on the goblet
that sat on the instructor's desk.
"Thought more about my offer?" Neville felt like a mouse caught in an owl's
line of sight. Malfoy smiled. "I know you did," he said, keeping his voice low.
"I'll bet you had a nice wank, thinking about it." His smile widened as Neville
blushed and looked away.
"Did you? Did you wrap your fingers tight around your cock and pretend it was
my mouth?" Malfoy's breath smelled of mint and lemon. "Did you fuck your hand
and imagine me on my knees?" Neville moved back until he bumped into a desk.
His prick was traitorously stiff from Malfoy's words, and he tried to hunch
over so his robes would disguise it.
"But your hand is a poor substitute, isn't it," Malfoy said, moving closer as
Neville backed off. "Your hand isn't wet and slick. It can't lick--" he was
almost on top of Neville now-- "or suck. Can it?" He pressed his palm against
the front of Neville's robes, squeezing ever so slightly. "Still want me to
muck around with some dirty old plants?"
No, Neville didn't want him to muck around with any dirty old plants. Neville
wanted him to quit teasing and--
"Stop it," Neville said firmly. He'd be damned if he'd let Malfoy's teasing get
to him. He could imagine the scene in the Slytherin common room, Malfoy holding
court: "Longbottom was ready to lift his shirt at the drop of a hat. I'll bet
he'd have given in for a quick toss in the changing rooms."
"Just-- fucking stop it," he said again. Malfoy snickered. Neville stomped out
of the classroom. He was barely around the corner when Hermione tapped him on
the shoulder.
"Neville, are you all right?" She had one arm loaded with books, and her
satchel slung over the other.
"Fine," he said, fluffing out his robes.
"It's only-- you look a bit flushed. You aren't coming down with something?"
"No! Erm, no," Neville said. "Here, let me carry some of those."
Neville tried his best to vanquish his erection as they walked towards the
library. Imagining his usual nightmare--showing up for Potions naked--finally
did the trick.
"Can you help me look something up?" he asked Hermione when they'd put all of
her books down.
"Of course," she said, clapping her hands together as if she'd won a prize.
 
When Malfoy came looking for him next, Neville was ready.
"Been tossing off to wild thoughts about me again?" Malfoy said, pulling
Neville into a classroom--Muggle Studies, this time--and shutting the door.
"Been rubbing your knob, wishing your palm was my tongue?"
Neville took a breath and closed his eyes. Go on, he told himself. You can do
it. He opened his eyes. "M- maybe," he said softly. "But now I'd like the real
thing." He looked up to meet Malfoy's gaze.
Malfoy's forehead wrinkled briefly. He squared his shoulders. "As if. You'd
come before your trousers hit the floor."
"Try me," Neville said, feeling bolder. He leaned against the teacher's desk
and tried to look jaded and nonchalant. Malfoy's confused look returned.
"Why don't you lie down? It's easier that way, you know," he said, crossing his
arms.
Neville shook his head. "No. Like this, on your knees, like you said." The
stern tone in his own voice surprised him. What surprised him more was Malfoy
dropping to his knees without a single snide comment.
Malfoy unbuttoned Neville's trousers and pulled them down. His face was red and
blotchy, but his eyes didn't look angry. They looked--
"Mm, I see no one will ever call you Shortbottom," Malfoy said as he pulled
Neville's y-fronts down.
"Shut up," Neville said.
Malfoy shut up.
Then Neville felt-- Oh, god. Malfoy's tongue licking and swirling around the
head of his prick, and Malfoy was right--it was miles better than any hand. He
gasped and clutched the edge of the desk, almost wishing he'd lain down. One
look at Malfoy on his knees, his mouth red and puffy around Neville's cock, was
enough to banish that thought. Malfoy's face was red and sweating; his light
hair stood out in sharp contrast. He was breathing hard, and the puffs of air
from his nose tickled Neville's groin.
Malfoy sucked; it felt like he was swallowing Neville's prick whole. It was
different from what Neville had imagined. The pleasure of it was so intense, it
bordered on pain. Neville dropped one hand to Malfoy's shoulder, either for
balance or to push Malfoy away; he wasn't sure which.
Too much, too much, Neville thought. It's too much, I'm going to pass out and
Malfoy will win. That thought put steel in his knees as Neville's spine twisted
and a smooth warmth burst through him, spreading like soft caramel creams or
Twiddler's Twisting Taffys. He felt himself pour out in spasms, and it took all
his energy just to keep his footing.
Their deep breaths filled the room. Neville wiped the sweat from his forehead.
Malfoy stood up and affected a sneer.
"Are we even?"
Neville met his eyes. "Not hardly," he said, pulling his trousers up. Malfoy
looked-- worried. "I- I think we've got more to discuss," he said, forcing his
voice to behave. He reached down and cupped Malfoy's groin. "Like this," he
said, relieved to find the erection he'd expected.
Malfoy opened and closed his mouth without saying anything.
"Have you been thinking about this and pulling your knob?" Neville said. "Doing
it certainly got you ready." He drew in a breath and pressed against Malfoy's
prick. "Have you?"
"You're mad," Malfoy said. It sounded weak and distant.
"I think I'd like to see it for myself," Neville said, ignoring Malfoy's words.
"I think I'd like to see Draco Malfoy have a nice wank." He looked at Draco
expectantly. "You know, I did some research on wizard's debts, with Hermione,"
he said. Draco blanched.
"It seems they can only be repaid in kind. So something like this wouldn't work
at all. And now I'm left with the question, why on earth would you want to suck
my cock?" Neville was quite proud of how his voice stayed stern and even. He
sounded almost confident.
"It was a joke. It got out of hand," Draco said.
"Shut up," Neville said.
Draco flushed, but he shut up. Neville's heart pounded in his chest. Draco had
shut up. Just like that. "I don't think it was a joke; I think you stayed awake
nights and tossed off thinking about it. Now I want you to show me what you
did."
Draco paused, and then slowly unfastened his trousers. Neville swallowed, sure
Draco could see how nervous he was, how his heart beat and his breath came
fast. Draco's cock was thin and nearly as pale as the rest of him; his pubic
hair was barely noticeable.
"Go on," Neville said. He knew he couldn't speak for much longer, not without
giving away the game.
When Draco's hand slid around his cock, a thrill zipped down Neville's spine.
Draco was doing what Neville said. Neville glanced up at Draco's face--his eyes
were drooping, his face was hot, and his mouth (still red from earlier) was
open. Draco liked it. It wasn't something Neville'd imagined; it was real, and
right in front of him.
"This is what you thought about, isn't it?" Neville said, whispering to hide
the quaver in his voice. "Standing here, having a-- d- doing that?" He cringed.
Surely Draco had heard that falter, and would pounce at the sign of weakness.
"Yes," Draco choked out, seemingly oblivious to Neville's distress. "Yes, yes
it is." Neville's heart dropped to his stomach, and leapt back up. He felt like
jumping up and cheering, but at the same time, his eyes prickled. This must be
what it feels like when magic works properly all the time, he thought.
"Tell me," Neville said quietly.
"This is what I think about," Draco whispered. His hand tightened around his
prick, and he gave two long pulls before slipping his fingers around the head.
"Standing here, exposed, doing what you tell me to." He rubbed some of the
slick pre-come down the underside, and used his thumb to slide his foreskin
back and forth.
"I- I think about pushing myself to the brink, but not coming. Not coming, even
though I want it more than anything. Not coming until I hear you say, 'come'."
He cupped his balls briefly with his other hand.
"Sometimes, I imagine it's your hand, your mouth..." Draco said under his
breath. He stroked faster now, concentrating his movements on the head of his
cock, using his other hand to squeeze the base.
Neville's breath forced in and out of his lungs so hard, he must have sounded
like a panting dog. Draco was close; his prick was almost purple, and sticky
threads of fluid dripped down his fingers. Neville gulped air and said, "Come."
Draco's body shivered, and he doubled over into a pale question mark. He made a
sound like a whine, and his shoulders convulsed. His come spurted thickly. It
was the best thing Neville had ever seen.
 
He watched silently as Draco pulled up his trousers and adjusted his robes.
"Look at the mess you made me make, Longbottom," Draco said, sneering. "You'd
best clean it up before someone comes in."
Neville almost laughed. Draco thought things could go back to normal. "No," he
said. Draco frowned. "I don't think I will. I think you should clean up after
yourself." He suppressed a grin at Draco's gobsmacked expression. "I think
you'll come when called from now on, won't you?"
Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed
their work!