Title: Inferior or Superior?
Prompt: # 9 submitted by vaysh
Summary: Both Harry and Draco prefer to bottom, but, well, only one can.
Pairing(s): Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, vague mentions of past unnamed lovers.
Warnings: anal, humor, profanity, taunting, wall!sex, mostly clothed!sex.
Word Count: 1,958
Author's Notes: vaysh, thank you for such a wonderful prompt! Smut and humor are a wonderful combination and I’m happy to provide both. :D
Mod's Warning: mention of bottom!Draco (rather unavoidable with the prompt) :)
“Are you saying my arse is inferior, Potter?”
Harry rolled his eyes. And he was back to being ‘Potter’ again. Well, since it happened at least once a week, he supposed he should be used to it by now. Still, if he had known that dating Draco Malfoy would be so much trouble, he’s not sure if he would have accepted that blasted date to Hogsmeade—no matter how brilliant Draco made it.
“No, Draco, I’m not,” he said.
Gray eyes narrowed at him. “Really?” His sneer was so like Snape’s that Harry’s erection started wilting in his trousers. “Because it sounded like you just said you didn’t want to shag my arse.”
“Really?” Harry mimicked, facial muscles twitching mockingly. “Because I seem to remember just saying that I didn’t want to shag your arse.”
Draco glared and crossed his arms over his chest. “And why, exactly, don’t you want to shag my arse, Potter?” His cocked an eyebrow, silently saying: Explain, and it had better be good, Scarhead.
“Because I want you to shag my arse,” Harry said enunciating his words carefully as if he were addressing Crabbe and Goyle. The tick along Draco’s jaw informed him his boyfriend didn’t appreciate the condescension one bit. And right on cue, Draco’s pale gray eyes turned stormy. He was so deliciously easy to rile. And fuck him with his Firebolt, but Draco looked right edible when he was miffed.
Snorting, Draco eyed Harry from head to toe. “This is a joke, right? Potter, your arse is so bony that I’d break my prick if I put it anywhere near that flat graveyard!”
“Excuse me?” Harry’s arse was very fit, thank you very much. None of his past lovers had ever complained, and some of them were fussier than Malfoy!
“I heard what you said, Malfoy!” Harry snapped. Who would have thought that getting two teenage boys to shag for the first time would be so bloody difficult? It was simple, damn it! Malfoy had a cock (Harry ignored the fact he also had one; he loved feeling a thick cock in his arse), and Harry had a perfectly serviceable—nay, superior—arse.
“Then get some lube and prepare me already,” Draco drawled, smirking as if Harry had just conceded defeat and surrendered his prick to Draco’s arse.
“No,” Harry said mulishly, chin jutted out.
“No? No! What do you mean ‘no’, Potter?” Draco turned around and framed his arse with his hands. “Have you seen this? People offer me money for the opportunity to shag my arse, Potter! Money, and not cheap change either. I could buy your entire blasted wardrobe with one fuck!”
Harry threw his head back and laughed raucously. If it was melodramatic Draco wanted, it was melodramatic that he would get. Harry pointed at himself and said, “Boy Who Lived.” When Draco spun around and glared, he continued with, “People don’t offer me money; they grovel and beg for the chance to just touch my arse.”
“T-that doesn’t count!” Draco spluttered. “That has nothing to do with your arse and everything to do with your stupid title. If any gay bloke were to compare this”—he stalked across the intervening distance and grabbed a handful of Harry’s bum—“with this”—he snagged Harry’s wrist and forced Harry’s hand against his own arse—“mine would clearly be superior!”
“Your prick’s tiny, isn’t it?” Harry said, suddenly switching his method of attack. It was something that he had learned from Ron while playing chess—always try and outthink the opponent, keep him on his toes.
“What?” Draco shrieked, sounding so much like Lavender Brown that Harry winced.
Harry shrugged and smiled, then patted Draco consolingly on the shoulder. “I get it, Draco. You don’t have to hide it. If you’re embarrassed about how small you are, that you won’t be able to fill me properly, I suppose I can top.”
“There is nothing wrong with my cock!” Draco snarled. He gritted his teeth together and dragged Harry’s hand around to the front of his trousers, and then shoved his prick against the callused palm. “Does that feel small to you?”
Ah, the pleasures of reverse psychology. Victory was almost his. Harry clapped Draco on the shoulder once more and then kissed his forehead. “I’ve felt worse.” Even as the words left his lips, he knew how Draco would take them. They implied so much that wasn’t true, because the handful—and, oh, it was a handful—was exactly what Harry liked in a cock: thick and long, but not too thick or too long.
“I’ll show you how un-inferior my cock is,” Draco spat, hands tugging at the fastenings of Harry’s trousers. He yanked both Harry’s trousers and boxers down before clutching Harry’s hips and spinning him around.
Harry leaned his hands against the wall and spread his legs as much as he could, arching his bum into the air. He knew his shirttails were covering his arse, and the mental image of Malfoy behind him, trying to make out the sight of his quivering hole through the white material, caused his cock to harden fully once more and slap against his stomach. “’Un-inferior’? Seriously, Draco? Has your vocabulary shrunk to the size of your prick?” he taunted before glancing over his shoulder.
Just as he did so, Draco dropped his trousers. Oh fuck! The bastard wasn’t wearing any boxers. Harry’s short nails scrabbled at the stone wall. Malfoy’s cock was an angry red, turgid and sticking up from a nest of golden curls. It peeked between the slit of his button-down shirt, smearing pre-come along the white material.
“Potter, if your prick is as small as your vocabulary you must not have one!”
Affronted, though he knew Draco was just repaying insults in kind, Harry grasped Draco’s wrist and dragged the Slytherin’s arm around him before thrusting his cock into Draco’s hand. All right, so Harry didn’t have the biggest cock in the school—it didn’t look like anyone could beat Draco—but he was on the larger end of average, damn it!
“Oh, your prick is definitely inferior when compared with my superior one,” Draco taunted as he strummed his fingers along Harry’s flesh as if it were a musical instrument.
Harry opened his mouth to spew their favorite comeback—You wish!—but stopped himself before the words could escape. If he said them, Draco might dare him to prove it, and Harry loved bottoming. Topping was all right, but… he just ached to have a thick cock shoving inside his body. He needed it, and it had been months since he’d last had anyone.
“Oh, I will.” Draco produced a tube of lubricant from one of their trouser pockets—Harry wasn’t sure whose, as he had taken to carrying it religiously—and squeezed some onto his fingers.
When the first slender finger circled his hole and then worked its way inside, Harry pressed his forehead to the wall and whimpered as his glasses skidded down his sweat-slick nose. So fucking good. But not enough, not yet. He pushed back, forcing Draco’s finger deeper.
“Like that, Potter?” Draco asked. He nibbled Harry’s neck and then licked the shell of his ear. “Then you’re going to love this.” Draco slid a second finger inside Harry with no other warning. His arsehole clenched around the fingers, feeling stretched—but not enough. Not yet.
“More!” he demanded as they wriggled inside him, spreading him open even as they tauntingly never touched his prostate. Malfoy was such a fucking tease…. “Oh wait,” he gasped, “you don’t have any more. Hell, Draco, two of my fingers are bigger than your cock insi—” He inhaled deeply, almost choking on the air as Draco ruthlessly shoved a third finger past his tight ring of muscle. It burned, but Harry knew he deserved it. And honestly, he wanted that burn; he liked feeling a good shag hours after it happened. It reminded him that he had lived through the final battle.
“I promise, Potter,” Draco purred in his ear, “once my cock’s inside you, you won’t be able to take any more.”
That had to be the best promise that anyone had ever made Harry in his entire life—ever. And it would be his after just one more comment. Harry smirked at the wall and did his best to affect a bored tone. “You know I hate being lied to, Draco. So cast the Reducio already and prove me—”
Oh, fucking, fuckity, fuck! Harry moaned helplessly as Draco’s fingers held his hips in a bruising grip and the massive cock eased its way into his arse. He’d taken longer ones, no doubt, but he had never had a cock this thick in his life.
“Does this feel Enlarged?” Draco hissed once his clothed chest pressed against Harry’s back, his bollocks resting against smooth skin.
The blunt intrusion stretched Harry wide, pulling at his internal walls and grinding against his prostate. He felt like Goldilocks who had just found the one that was ‘just right’ for him. And no, it didn’t feel Enlarged. He had taken magically enhanced pricks before, and they never felt this firm, this real—never filled him this well.
Pre-come streamed from Harry’s cockhead, bathing his swollen flesh and dripping down his thighs to soak into his boxers and trousers. The shirt was already unsalvageable. Harry huffed and then said, “I’m trying to decide if it’s Enlarged, Enmediumed, or Ensmalled.”
“You’ll pay for that, Potter,” Draco said, fingertips digging into his hips. “You will pay.”
Harry was counting on it. As Draco withdrew and then thrust back inside, he clenched tightly around Draco’s erection. The groan it pulled from his lover made Harry feel powerful, so he did it again and again until Draco had lost all control and was pounding into him so hard he feared he would break his cock if his hands slipped from their position on the wall.
What must have been the millionth time Draco’s erection dragged across his prostate, Harry shattered. “Fuck, Draco!” His whole body trembled and shuddered as he came, splattering the wall with semen. It sluiced down the gray stone like milky tears. His arms spasmed and he feared they’d give out. However, even if they had, he wouldn’t have fallen; Draco’s erection was still rock solid in his arse, and surely massive enough to keep Harry on his feet even if his muscles all gave out at once.
Harry’s glasses finally lost the battle with gravity, sliding off his nose to clatter to the floor. He wasn’t sure if they had broken or not. He couldn’t hear anything over the sound of his heartbeat. It took him an appreciable amount of time to realize that Draco was still inside him, unmoving, as patient as you please. “Draco?”
Draco chuckled darkly. “Don’t think I haven’t realized what you’ve done, Potter. I’m not an imbecile.”
“And what have I done?” Harry asked, knowing that playing innocent would only enflame Draco even more. Harry was a greedy bottom, and he wanted that beautiful prick inside of him as long as he could possibly keep it there. Though he frankly had no idea how Draco hadn’t come when he had. More than one of Harry’s lovers had compared his arse to a vise.
“No one plays me and gets away with it,” Draco purred.
As he began moving again, alternating between long, languid thrusts and short, sharp strokes, Harry relished his continuing victory. Draco had just forfeited his only chance to win by not withdrawing. Harry grinned at the wall and barely restrained his delighted laughter. He’d outmaneuvered his Slytherin.
Draco Malfoy: 0. Harry Potter: 1.