Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/5867968.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Harry_Potter_-_J._K._Rowling
  Relationship:
      Draco_Malfoy/Harry_Potter
  Character:
      Draco_Malfoy, Harry_Potter, Pansy_Parkinson, Seamus_Finnigan
  Additional Tags:
      Truth_or_Dare, Dubious_Consent
  Stats:
      Published: 2006-04-07 Words: 944
****** Do What I Want ******
by eeyore9990
Summary
     Short fic written for Enchanted_Jae's monthly challenge. Write a
     drabble beginning with the phrase "Harry was on his knees in front of
     Draco."
Notes
See the end of the work for notes
Harry was on his knees in front of Draco, but his scowl was all for Pansy
Parkinson, who sat smirking as only Slytherins can across the circle from him.
He’d known he would regret answering “Dare” to her taunt, but he couldn’t very
well choose “Truth,” now could he?
He flinched at the memory of the way her eyes had gone from bored to gleaming
maliciously as she softly uttered his death knell. “You have to do everything
Draco tells you to for the next ten minutes. Everything.”
And that’s how he’d ended up in this ridiculously subservient position in front
of Draco Malfoy, of all people.
“Mmm, Potter, I do believe I’ve discovered your best feature.”
“Oh, really?” Harry asked, his face flushing red in embarrassment and anger.
“Yes, the top of your head is quite lovely. I’ll have to see what I can do to
ensure I get to look at it more often.”
“Go fuck yourself, Malfoy!”
“Tut, tut, Potter. Language. And I don’t have time for full-blown fucking, but
thanks for the offer. No, I think you’re in the perfect position to suck me
off, though, so get to it. We only have eight minutes left, and I’ll be vastly
disappointed if you don’t finish.”
“What?! You’re joking.” Harry’s voice was flat with certainty. Surely Malfoy
was having him on, trying to humiliate him once more.
Draco cocked his head at Harry, a wicked smirk curving his lips. “What will you
give me if I say I am? It will take quite a lot for me to pass up the
opportunity to fuck that gorgeous mouth, Potter.”
Harry sat back with a blink. Then, lips twisting cynically, he said, “What? You
want to tell Rita Skeeter all about how you got a blow job from ‘The Boy Who
Lived?’”
Draco tilted his head, studying Harry through narrowed eyes. “I don’t kiss and
tell, Potter. It’s far too déclassé for a Malfoy. And what the fuck would I
want with ‘The Boy Who Wouldn’t Fucking Impale Himself on a Basilisk’s Fang and
End All Our Torture?’”
Harry blinked at that overly long moniker. “Been thinking of ways for me to off
myself, Malfoy? Well, you’ll have to come up with something new; I actually DID
that one.”
“Six minutes, gentlemen. You’re putting us to sleep, here.”
“Well, Potter, I’ve decided to revoke my offer. You have six minutes to get on
it. And I expect it to be mind blowing.”
“It’ll be some kind of blowing,” Seamus muttered to assorted laughs.
Harry gulped, looking straight ahead at Draco’s groin and wiping sweaty hands
against his jean-clad thighs. “Umm, do I have to do it in front of everyone?”
he whispered, voice nearly squeaking out of him in his sudden bout of
nervousness.
“You can Obliviate them later.”
Harry dragged in a ragged breath and reached his hands up, faltering several
times on his journey, before Draco huffed in irritation and undressed himself
from the waist down.
Harry did squeak then. “I don’t think I can do this, Malfoy!” He was panicking
now, hyperventilating at the sight of Draco’s cock. It was half hard and… well,
really fucking nice.
Draco bit back a moan; all that heavy breathing Harry was doing was driving him
to distraction. In Harry’s panicked state, he hadn’t noticed yet that Draco had
gone from half hard to fully engorged and throbbing. Every gust of air through
those full, pouty lips was brushing against Draco’s cock, making him want to
grab the back of Harry’s head and ram into that tempting mouth.
Draco groaned when Harry looked up at him, green eyes wide with trepidation.
“Figures you would need someone to help you with this,” he said, hoping like
hell that his voice was coming out properly snarky, and not breathless with
want. “First, lick the head,” he said, waiting to see if Harry would obey.
When Harry swallowed heavily and leaned forward, pink tongue poking from
between his lips hesitantly, Draco nearly came then and there. One swipe of the
soft, wet muscle had him hunching over, a minute amount of precome nearly
bursting from him.
“N-now,” he instructed on a shivery breath, “open your mouth and suck, as much
as you can. Yeah… fuck, Potter, just like that. Your fucking mouth was made for
this,” he moaned, completely forgetting the other people in the room who were
watching in wide-eyed interest.
Harry had his eyes closed, concentrating totally on the sound of Draco’s voice,
listening for hitching breaths and low moans that signaled he was doing this
right.
“Gods, Harry,” Draco gasped, forgetting himself as his stomach twisted with
pleasure. “Umm, just… ngghn… yeah, do that. That tongue thing is good. And…
and… ohfuckinghell… you’re… oh, gods, if you squeeze me like that again, I’ll
come down your fucking throat… ahhhh!” he screamed into the totally silent room
as Harry gently and deliberately squeezed his balls once more.
Swallowing the surprisingly-not-at-all-disgusting mouthful of come, Harry
cleared his throat and stood up, capturing a weak kneed Draco before he could
fall down.
“Truth or dare, Malfoy?” he rasped, throat slightly sore from the new abuse
he’d just put it through.
“Huh?” Draco mumbled, mind still in a mush-like state.
“Ah, fuck it,” Harry muttered, before dragging a stumbling Draco into a storage
closet. Just as he was about to slam the door behind him, he turned with a
wicked grin, and said, “Half an hour, Parkinson. I’m not quite as... erm...
premature as Malfoy.”
Hoots and hollers from the small group of seventh years accompanied the sound
of the door closing with a nearly satisfied sound.
~fin~
End Notes
     Brief addendum for the closet scene:
      
     Harry shut the door to the closet, the sound loud in the sudden
     darkness. Lifting his wand, he incanted a soft "lumos" before
     allowing his gaze to devour the still-dazed Slytherin he'd caught in
     his web.
     "Oh, Malfoy," he murmured huskily--his vocal chords were still
     tingling from taking Malfoy down his throat moments before. "Wouldn't
     you like to know what I want from you for the next thirty minutes?"
     Malfoy lazily turned around, resting his upper body against a shelf
     as he presented his beautiful arse to Harry. Flashing a slow,
     languorous glance at Harry from under his lashes, he said, "Are you
     sure you'll last thirty minutes, Potter?"
     Harry plopped down on the floor, blinking up at Draco with a smirk.
     "Well, unless you think you can help me prep for tomorrow's Potions
     test in less than that. But I think we'll be using every bit of the
     thirty minutes, don't you?"
     Malfoy stiffened, then snapped upright, turning on Harry, furious.
     “Excuse me?! You have me, half naked, might I add, in a closet for
     half an hour during a game of truth or dare, and you want to study?!”
     “Why, Malfoy? Expecting something else?” Harry asked, all innocence.
     “You weren’t, for example, expecting me to bugger you into next week,
     were you?”
     Draco simply jerked his trousers back into place, quivering with
     rage. He was about to leave the closet when Harry grabbed his ankle.
     “Malfoy, when I bugger you, it’s going to take much more than thirty
     minutes. And I’ll be damned if I’ll do it in a dusty old storage
     closet with all our friends on the other side.”
     “When? Presumptuous little shite, aren’t you?” Draco spat, voice icy
     with fury.
     “Oh, get over yourself, Malfoy. You’re gagging for it, and you know
     it. Now, what the hell is with the infusion of wormwood? I don’t get
     that at all.”
     Draco just stood mutely, glaring daggers at Harry.
     “Oh, for…” Harry growled and climbed to his feet, slamming Draco back
     against the wall and claiming his lips possessively.
     After a good five minutes of heated kissing, which left Draco in much
     the same state he’d been in when they entered the closet, Harry
     pulled back and whispered hotly, “I’m going to fuck you through your
     mattress tonight, Malfoy, be prepared. And have some rejuvenation
     potions handy, because we won’t be sleeping.” Stepping back, he
     cleared his throat and said, “Now, about that infusion of wormwood…”
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