Fandom: Harry Potter
Word Count: ~3,000
Content/Warnings: dub-con, blow jobs, light D/s themes, Draco is kind of a dick
Summary: Draco comes to collect his winnings.
Notes: When I first saw this reason, I knew I wanted to do some kind of bet, and originally, it was going to be all light-hearted established fun. But as I was looking through your likes, birdsofshore, (trying to figure out something to write for your birthday) there were some comments about unredeemed Draco, and dub-con, and I realised I hadn't yet tried my hand at writing a less scrupulous Draco—at least not with Harry, anyways. So I ran with that, and I tried to fit a few of your other likes in here, as well. You've been so wonderfully supportive with my writing, and this series in particular, so I really hope you enjoy. And I hope you have the most marvelous of birthdays, hon! <3
Thanks to capitu, dicta_contrion, and lauren3210 for looking this over for me! I played around with it a bit since, so all remaining mistakes are my own.
50 Reasons to Have Sex Masterlist
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"What are you doing here, Malfoy?"
Harry knew his tone was far from civil as he gripped the edge of the door, but quite frankly, he didn't give a fuck. He was not in a good mood, and the last thing he needed to see was Malfoy's smirking, smug face on his doorstep. It was bad enough he had to see him at the Ministry, whenever the Auror department needed a Potions consult; Harry certainly didn't need to deal with Malfoy on his personal time as well.
"Wonderful to see you too, Potter," Malfoy replied breezily, slipping past Harry. "Lovely home you've got here. Very…cozy." He walked down the hall and into the living room without pause, like he bloody owned the place. Harry wanted to strangle him.
"What the fuck are you doing in my house, Malfoy?"
Malfoy fluttered his lashes in faux shock. "Why, I'm coming to collect on our bet, of course."
Harry paled. "What?"
Malfoy drew nearer and Harry took an instinctive step backwards. "You do remember our little wager don't you?" He kept walking towards Harry, his movements smooth and predatory, almost feline. "The one about the election? You and all your little Gryffindor friends were at the pub going on and on about the wonderful Shacklebolt and how he was sure to win, and what a wonderful Minister he'd make. You all got quite upset when you overheard Pansy and I saying that there was no way Shacklebolt would win out over Fawley."
"Overheard!" Harry interjected. "You were practically yelling it on purpose, just to rile us up!"
"So you do remember. I'm so glad."
Malfoy continued his advance but Harry had run out of floor, staring wide eyed at Malfoy as his back hit the wall. Malfoy couldn't possibly be serious.
"Maybe you need me to continue refreshing your memory," Malfoy murmured. "You said that there was no way that Shacklebolt would lose, and I told you that it would take more than a glorified bodyguard to—"
Harry snarled, withdrawing his wand and preparing to hex Malfoy's nose off. He remembered how angry he'd been the first time Malfoy had insulted Kingsley, and this time Ron and Hermione weren't here to keep him from giving Malfoy exactly what he deserved. But before he had a chance to even think of a hex, Malfoy leaned in and kissed him square on the mouth.
Harry froze, momentarily shocked at the feeling of Malfoy's lips against his own. Unfortunately, just as he'd come to his senses and started gearing up to punch Malfoy right in his pointy chin, Malfoy was plucking Harry's wand out of his hand and slipping it into the depths of his own robes.
"What the fuck, Malfoy! Give that back."
"I will. Just as soon as I can be sure you won't hex me with it. Now where was I? Oh yes, I was just getting to the part where you told me that if Fawley won, you'd suck my cock."
Harry blanched. "It was a joke, Malfoy. I was drunk. I wasn't serious!"
Malfoy's face turned down in a moue of disappointment. "Well that's a terrible shame. So unfortunate that you didn't mean to make a magically binding contract in full view of several wizard witnesses." His grey eyes flashed and his grin was all teeth.
"It was just a stupid bet," Harry said, but even to his own ears, it sounded a little thin.
"You're a wizard, Potter. Which means your words have significance." He paused, and if possible, his grin became even more satisfied. "It means, you're bound to follow through on your promise. You'll be…compelled to."
Harry stared at him in horror, his stomach tight with dread...and something else, something darker and almost sickly pleased. Harry didn't let himself linger on it.
"You're joking," Harry whispered. Malfoy was just inches away from him now. Harry could feel the heat of him burning its way through their layers of clothing, could see each individual eyelash framing his sharp, grey eyes.
"Unlike you, I take magic very seriously."
Harry looked at him defiantly. "And what happens if I don't do it? If I resist this...compulsion." It wasn't like Harry couldn't handle a little pain, and if he could fight off the Imperius curse, he could surely resist this. He tried not to listen to the small voice in the back of his mind, urging him to stop fighting so hard against something that he wanted. Telling him that he should give in so that everybody could win. It was just the power of the bet already influencing him, making him want to fulfill his side of the bargain. It must be.
"Well, then one of your friends who bore witness would have to take your place. Like a second in a wizarding duel."
Harry deflated. He knew he could never ask one of his friends to do that, and it seemed like Malfoy did as well, if his cheshire grin was anything to go by.
"Okay," Harry said, looking Malfoy straight in the eye, refusing to give him even more leverage by letting him see Harry sweat.
"Now that wasn't so hard, was it?" Malfoy purred, cupping Harry's jaw softly. "Though, it'll be rather hard to suck my cock while standing, won't it?" His tone was soft and pleasant, and Harry barely even registered that he was following his implied command until his knees hit the ground. That was...He didn't want to do that—to kneel for Malfoy—it was just the stupid bet. Getting into his head, and making him react to Malfoy's voice like that. He shivered.
"Now it's helpful if you undo my trousers," Malfoy said slowly.
"I know what I'm doing, Malfoy!" Harry snapped, as he roughly undid the button of Malfoy's trousers and yanked them down his thighs, leaving him clad in only his tight, black pants.
"Do you?" Malfoy's voice was amused. "I wasn't aware that you were such an experienced cock-sucker. By all means, continue."
Harry bit his lip. Malfoy's prick was a long, thick line straining against the fabric of his pants and Harry felt a heat curling low in his belly at the sight. Sure, he'd never done this before, but it couldn't be that difficult. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad, he reasoned. The voice in the back of his mind told him that maybe it could even be good.
Harry curled his fingers around the waistband of Malfoy's pants, hoping Malfoy didn't notice his trembling hands. He tugged them down, slowly exposing Malfoy's cock, which, Harry was a bit disappointed to note, seemed bigger than his own. Malfoy was already hard, flushed dark and leaking at the tip, and Harry found himself fascinated. He'd seen guys naked before—it was kind of hard to avoid it back at Hogwarts—but he'd never seen another man's erection before. He was more than well acquainted with his own prick, but it was different seeing it from the other side. Sexier.
He took a fortifying breath, trying to shake the inappropriate thoughts from his head, but all that did was fill his nose with the rich, tangy smell of Malfoy's arousal. Harry felt a bit dizzy, and his mouth began to water as he took in the heady scent. Much to his horror, Harry found himself leaning instinctively towards the cock in front of his face.
He clenched his fists against his thighs as he tried to force himself to relax. It was fine. Malfoy already told him that the bet was binding, that it would force him to follow through. Obviously these thoughts—this desire prickling at his skin, this want spreading like hot molasses through his veins—weren't his. Harry didn't want to suck cock, and he certainly didn't want to suck Malfoy's; it was just the influence of the contract. Honestly, this whole thing would probably be much easier if he just accepted that fact and let the magic do its thing. Really, he should be grateful that the magic was helping him along, otherwise there would obviously be no way he'd have been able to go through with it.
Making the decision to go along with the magic's guidance was like flicking on a light switch, and Harry closed his eyes against the onslaught of want that rushed through him. The magic probably had a much easier time once he wasn't resisting it.
Harry reached up and wrapped a hand around Malfoy's prick, the skin impossibly hot and smooth under his palm. He glanced up at Malfoy as he began to move his hand, unable to tear his eyes away from Malfoy's devouring gaze. His eyes were dark and possessive as they took in Harry's face, and Harry didn't bother trying to suppress his shiver. He could feel Malfoy's stare like a physical touch, imposing and commanding as it raked over Harry. It made him feel stripped bare, like Malfoy was looking into the depths of his soul, and something inside of Harry preened at the attention. It didn't make any sense; Harry hated attention. But this wasn't like the mindlessly adoring gaze of the public. This was Malfoy seeing him, seeing something that Harry hadn't ever given to anybody else. Making him visible and vulnerable and wanting.
"I think I'd like to feel your mouth now, Harry," Malfoy murmured, his words surrounding him like a warm bath.
Harry's breath hitched at the sound of Malfoy using his first name, a bit shocked at the intimacy of it. He had a sudden urge to please Malfoy, and while a part of him wondered if that was maybe taking things a bit too far, the rest of him was most definitely in favour of leaning forward and dragging his tongue across the leaking tip of Malfoy's prick.
The salty, bitter taste coated his tongue as he licked, the flavour more enjoyable than Harry had been expecting. He covered the sides with wide sweeps of his tongue, trying to remember what some of the girls he'd been with in the past had done to him.
Distantly, he registered the ragged breathing of Malfoy above him. It filled him with a sort of savage pleasure, knowing that he was breaking down some of Malfoy's usual coldness. Deciding that he wanted to chip away a little more, he pulled off the side of Malfoy's prick, opening his mouth and sucking the tip right in.
Careful to cover his teeth, Harry sucked on the head, rubbing his tongue against the underside as he adjusted to the foreign feeling. Malfoy groaned, and Harry felt cool fingers sliding into his hair, pulling hard at the strands, but not guiding...yet. The burst of pain spurred Harry on, encouraging him to get down to business and make Malfoy come. The better he made this, the quicker it would be over. He extended his tongue and opened his mouth wider, holding Malfoy's prick at the base as he took him in as far as he could. Which honestly was not as much as he'd been expecting.
He pushed farther, choking as the spongy head bumped against the back of his throat. Eyes watering, he pulled off, his head bowed as he coughed and gulped for breath. Malfoy's fingers maintained their iron grip in his hair, but he didn't move to force him back down. Harry looked up at him through tear-soaked lashes, feeling embarrassed. He had to fight the urge to apologize and beg for forgiveness.
"Not that I don't appreciate your enthusiasm, but deepthroating may be a little beyond your current skill level." Harry could hear the patronizing edge to Draco's words, and he felt a strange shiver of shame slither down his spine. "Don't worry, I'm sure with a little practise you'll be able to suck cock like a champion." He slid one of his hands down the side of Harry's face, nudging Harry's mouth open with his thumb. Harry opened eagerly, not letting himself linger on why he responded so easily. "Let's start practising now, shall we?"
Harry nodded numbly, tilting his head and taking Malfoy in once more. This time when he got halfway down, he didn't force himself further, his hand instinctively coming up to wank what didn't fit in his mouth.
"Now you're starting to get it."
Malfoy's prick was a hot, heavy pressure in his mouth, stretching his lips wide and weighing his tongue down as he bobbed his head. He wondered if blow jobs always felt like this for the giver, like you'd float away if the cock in your mouth wasn't anchoring you down. Harry had never given one before, but somehow he didn't think so. The few woman who'd gone down on him certainly didn't look the way he felt right now.
The act was so much more erotic than he'd thought it be. Maybe it was the lack of air getting to his lungs, but Harry felt as if every nerve ending in his body had come alive. He felt everything more acutely, the ridges of Malfoy's cock against his lower lip, the rough rub of his shirt against his skin, the pleasurable sting in his scalp as Malfoy's hands tightened in his hair. It all felt so good and Harry wondered if maybe he was a little high from spell, if this was all part of the compulsion Malfoy had described.
Malfoy's hands in his hair spasmed again when Harry flicked his tongue under the crown of his cock, and Harry could tell that he was itching to just hold his head still and fuck his mouth. Harry wasn't really sure why he hadn't. Though maybe he didn't find the prospect of having Harry choke again all that arousing.
Harry shifted on his knees and moaned around Malfoy's cock as his trousers rubbed deliciously against his own erection. He hadn't even realised he was hard, though maybe that should have been obvious from the unbridled lust pulsing around them like a shared heartbeat.
Harry sank back down on Malfoy's cock and glanced up at him, moaning again at the look of wild desire in Malfoy's eyes. His breath was ragged, and Harry didn't know what a man looked like when he was about to come, but he was willing to bet it looked a whole lot like Malfoy looked right now.
He redoubled his efforts, wanking and sucking as fast as he could, determined to make Malfoy come with his mouth.
Malfoy's hands tightened in Harry's hair, no longer just resting but actively holding his head still as he pumped his hips shallowly. He groaned long and low above Harry and his cock slid out so just the tip rested on Harry's tongue. Dark grey eyes met Harry's and Harry's stomach clenched at the expression there. And then, with a shudder, Malfoy was coming, coating Harry's lips and tongue with his release.
Harry’s eyes fluttered shut as he swallowed, unconsciously licking the taste off his lips and Malfoy's slowly softening prick. Now that Malfoy had come and Harry was no longer focused on sucking him off, his own arousal had become almost unbearable in its intensity. He slipped a hand down to the front of his trousers and subtly pressed against his hard cock, desperately hoping that Malfoy wouldn't notice.
Of course, he wasn't that lucky.
"Enjoy yourself, Potter?" Malfoy asked, his lips twisted in a mocking smile as he tucked himself back in.
"Of course not!" Harry snapped as he clambered to his feet.
Malfoy stared pointedly at Harry’s still-hard cock and raised his brows. "That says otherwise."
"That's just because of the bet magic or whatever! It's not—It's not because I enjoyed doing...that to you."
Malfoy's face split into a condescending smile. "Oh, Harry—"
"Don't call me that!"
He rolled his eyes. "Harry, you didn't really believe all that, did you? Being a wizard doesn't make all wagers magically binding. Obviously. There was nothing making you want that but you."
Harry's stomach dropped. "No…"
Malfoy moved in closer, backing Harry back up against the wall and leaning in to brush his nose against Harry's in a crude parody of sweetness. "You know I'm telling the truth. And the truth, is that you rather liked sucking my cock."
No, no he didn't. Of course he didn't. Except. Well it wasn't like he'd never thought about it, about what it might be like. And sometimes, after he and Malfoy got in an argument—which seemed to happen every time they ran into each other—he'd find himself just a little bit hard. From the adrenaline. And maybe, occasionally, when he was wanking late at night, his fantasies of soft curves and long hair would morph into pale skin and sharp features and strong hands pinning him down.
"Fuck off, Malfoy." Harry was shooting for scathing, but judging from Malfoy's delighted smirk he'd rather missed the mark.
"I suppose it is getting rather late." He backed away slowly towards the hall. "I'll be seeing you, Potter."
He tossed Harry his wand and then slipped down the hall and out the front door, leaving Harry stunned and still hard in the middle of his living room.
Heart racing, he leaned back against the wall and shoved his hand down his trousers, pulling himself off in quick, rough strokes and resolutely not thinking about Malfoy's hands in his hair or the feel of Malfoy's cock on his tongue as Harry came into his own hand.
Harry tucked himself away quickly, desperate to forget about thoughts of Malfoy and blow jobs and wagers. He felt dirty—in more ways than one—and he walked purposefully towards the bathroom, deciding that a nice, long shower was exactly what he needed to wash off this horrible day.
He grimaced, remembering that his team would be working with Malfoy tomorrow on a case, which meant there'd be no escaping the pointy git and his insufferably knowing smiles.
It was going to be a long, tense, day. Better be sure to wank before going in. Just to be safe.