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Camping troubles	By : dirtydarella Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 3888 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter nor am I profiting nor am I affiliated with JK Rowling, Bloomsbury, Scholastic or whoever else holds the rights.

Chapter List
- 1-Camping troubles
- 1
Thanks so much to tari_sue for looking over this for me!

And thanks everyone who’s been leaving comments on my stuff, your reviews mean the world to me. ^_^ *hugs you all silly*

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Out of all people, it had to be Malfoy.

“I’m hungry.”

Harry’s eye twitched in annoyance as he clenched his teeth to avoid responding to the blond’s whining. If he answered it would only fuel the complaining of the wizard next to him, as he had learned towards the beginning of their hike. When he had responded to Malfoy’s statements of being tired by saying it wasn’t very far, the next ten minutes found him bombarded with statements like, “I thought you said it wasn’t far! We must have walked half way across The Lake District by now. I’m still tired, Potter.”

Normally, Harry didn’t mind volunteering to help out enthusiastic students of Hogwarts with their muggle studies. Hermione had started the whole thing, taking a few campers with her to a muggle campground, confiscating their wands and trying to make it through the night without magic. In some ways it was the ultimate test — something that even the muggles could struggle with if they weren’t properly prepared.

“Did you hear me Potter?” Malfoy said in a petulant voice. God, Harry was about three seconds away from just punching him. Why did it have to be Malfoy?

Pretty soon after Hermione had started this extra curricular activity — that is, on her very first night – she learned the hard way it wasn’t a good idea to mix the male and female students in tents together. Which is where Harry had come in; he took the blokes and her the birds.

“Hungry. H-U-N-G-R-Y. When are we going to stop and eat?”

This was countered with more ignoring, or at least, on the surface Harry was trying to act impassive. It worked for a whole ten seconds before feet shuffled quickly against the gravel path, followed by a pressure around Harry’s wrist. Malfoy tugged at him, in a similar way that a child would pull on their parent’s arm to get their attention. “Are you even listening?”

He graced the blond with a sidelong glance but continued to walk. Is this how Malfoy used to behaved around his parents? He’d always known the ex-Slytherin was spoiled rotten, but really. He was acting just like Dudley used to.

Harry shuddered.

Malfoy was a special case that he had somehow got roped into taking camping. Despite being an ex-Death Eater, Malfoy worked out a deal with the Wizengamot for probation instead of serving time in Azkaban. Surprise, surprise, part of that deal was for him to learn Muggle appreciation, which had somehow turned into Harry taking him camping. So far it was proving to be a long day and a half.

“Seriously, Potter,” Malfoy whined, tugging so hard that, mixed with the heavy loaded pack on his back, was enough to cause Harry to stumble backward and stop. “Don’t ignore me.”

All self-control over his words flew out from behind his clenched teeth in a gushing hiss. “Shut the fuck up! You are driving me insane.”

A gleam of smugness danced in silver eyes and Harry regretted it immediately. Malfoy was getting under his skin and the bastard knew it. He was smug about it. It was an extremely cunning way of getting to Harry, even he could admit it to himself — or would have if he hadn’t been so incredibly annoyed at the moment. There wasn’t really any other way for Malfoy to have a victory in their current situation except for testing Harry’s patience. It was Harry in the end who had to sign off on the papers saying he’d completed the task satisfactorily, so obviously any physical resistance would have been out, and verbal resistance was harder to counter.

Of course, if the blond annoyed him enough, Harry could always have him shipped off to Azkaban faster than he could say indicted.

A dark smile curved his lips as he allowed himself that moment of daydreaming before picking up his pace a little. He wouldn’t do that, as tempting as it was, because for all his smoke and mirrors Malfoy was only an annoying, spoilt child who had got in way over his head during the war. He hadn’t really helped Harry directly during it, but in his own way, when he refused to identify him he had helped indirectly. Add that to what his mother had done and Harry grudgingly figured he could indirectly help the blond avoid Azkaban.

“Wait Potter,” Malfoy called out from a good distance behind him. “My legs are itchy!”

Harry rolled his eyes and continued on, swallowing the retort that maybe, if Malfoy had worn jeans like he had suggested instead of what looked like flannel pajama pants then his wimpy little legs wouldn’t be itching.

Trying not to let the blond get to him, Harry turned his focus on the land instead. This was probably one of his favorite spots in England, where the fells rose up from the Earth, stretching peaks towards the endless blue sky. His eyes traced the groves where water had cut the land almost lovingly, taking in the site of reddish earth contrasting with the patches of green. He took a deep breath; the air was so clean and crisp in his lungs. How could anyone not be awed by this place and its amazingly refreshing beauty?

“This sucks,” Malfoy grumbled next to Harry, having finally caught up to him. Right, well Harry guessed that was his answer. What a prick.

Looking up and trying to judge how much daylight they had left by the sun’s position in the sky, Harry mentally shrugged. They might as well start setting up for camp. Usually he would try and quiz the students why it was important to start setting up before the sun started to go down, but with Malfoy he didn’t give a fuck if he knew. It wasn’t like Malfoy was ever going to attempt to go camping again after this — at least, not like a muggle would.

Allowing his pack to ease off gently onto the ground, Harry rolled his shoulders appreciatively. Malfoy came over and dropped his own roughly, something inside creaking suspiciously, before he joined Harry in rolling his own shoulders.

“Taking a break?”

“Setting up camp,” Harry responded, taking note of how pleased this made Draco and rolling his eyes.

***

“I’m still itchy,” Malfoy announced as Harry was unzipping his sleeping bag and positioning it on the tent floor — the tent that he had to set up all by himself. He was ready to just settle down for the night and relax in the quiet of nature. He should have known that would be impossible with Malfoy around.

“Why are you itchy?” he said after a moment of watching Malfoy scratch helplessly at his arms. In the dim blue light of Harry’s solar lantern his normally ivory skin looked a little red. Had the blond deviated away from the path at some point and run through some plant, like stinging nettles?

“I don’t know! But now I’ve got all these bumps on me and they’re driving me nuts.” Malfoy emphasized this by scratching his shoulder in a particularly vicious manner.

“Bumps?” Some kind of rash? Harry made his way over towards the itching teen, almost tripping over the grey sack Malfoy had thrown between them. It would just figure Malfoy’s poncy skin would break out the moment he had to do any kind of labor. When he reached the blond, however, pulling his arm closer to the light he could see a splattering of nasty bumps all up his skin. Midge bites were spread, probably, all over his body.

“Fuck, Malfoy. Didn’t you use that insect repellent?” It was pretty bad. He lifted up the blond’s shirt to see that the midges had eaten his back and stomach too � the red bumps sticking out shockingly against pale skin. Malfoy shouldn’t have been wearing such light clothes.

“That stuff you spray out of a can?” Harry nodded. “No. It was smelly.”

“Well it would have saved you from all of this,” he said. “You must taste delicious because they really went at you.”

Malfoy blinked. “Yes, well. I am quite delicious.”

Looking up, Harry was met with half-lidded gray eyes and ignored the odd shiver that seemed to tickle up his spine. Lips turning down in a frown, he sat back. Malfoy sure had a way with throwing Harry's thoughts off balance.

“Can you use an anti-itching spell?” Malfoy asked, sounding like a hopeful child who wanted ice cream. Harry shook his head.

“They’ll know if I use magic.”

Frowning, Malfoy went back to aggressively itching his skin. Harry felt a little bad that he hadn’t brought any calamine lotion, but usually the midges weren’t a problem, especially at this time of year.

“Stop scratching, you’re going to make it worse.”

Malfoy sneered at him and continued.

“You’re going to scar your skin.”

That stopped the blond, who looked so horrified by the thought he actually whimpered. “Would you have me live like this, in utter agony then?”

“Try to find something to distract yourself. Here,” he reached across the tent and snagged the dim-blue lantern before setting it down next to him. “Read or something.”

Malfoy just stared at him for a few seconds, face becoming completely impassive. Then in the next moment, Malfoy was practically pouncing on him, and Harry threw his arms up, defensively grabbing at the blond. Malfoy positioned himself almost sitting in Harry’s lap, moving in a little too close for comfort.

“What are you doing?!” Harry said, shoving at the blond’s shoulders. Malfoy pouted, but continued to resist being pushed away.

“Distracting myself, obviously.”

“Distracting yourself how?” Harry nearly shrieked when he felt something warm cupping him down there. His attention was thrown off just long enough for Malfoy to gain the upper hand, finally pushing Harry to the floor.

“By sampling you,” he drawled triumphantly. Lips were pressed against his in the next instant and Harry childishly closed his tightly, refusing to participate in this ludicrous behavior. He was doing a pretty good job, too, until he suddenly felt his pajama pants being untied and pulled down to his knees all in one quick swoop, leaving his lap rather cold feeling in the open air. He gasped, letting the hot, slick tongue of Malfoy to enter, and once it brushed against his own all control was lost. It was a challenge now, a fight for dominance, so he thrust his tongue back, letting it slide deliciously against Malfoy’s.

Both boys moaned into the kiss, the sound more erotic than it had any right to be, fueling his arousal to a new height. Somehow Harry went from pushing to just gripping at Malfoy’s shoulders, drawing them even closer. Then something was gripping his prick and Harry arched his head, breaking the kiss as he held back a groan.

A hysterical thought raced through his mind that maybe the ex-Slytherin was doing this so that Harry would pass him, but then he decided that thinking was for scholars, and watching Malfoy wank him off was more of Harry’s thing anyway. He was vaguely aware of some strange mewing noises, but surely that was some kind of animal outside of the tent because he certainly wasn’t capable of making such girly noises.

“There’s my good, submissive little Hero,” Malfoy crooned and Harry did his best to glare, but he was pretty sure it just came off as a please don’t stop look. Oh well, it really didn’t matter because a second later the only thing that Harry cared about was the fact that Malfoy had lowered his head into his lap and — oh fuck — mouthed the head of his dripping cock. Lips closed around, encasing him in hot, wet heat and there was the threat of teeth just barely grazing over his sensitized skin. His hips jerked upward when a tongue darted into his slit, rolling around, then darting again.

And then the suction came, oh glorious suction, and all hope of restraining his voice was lost as he cried out his pleasure. He felt the pull of his skin, the tight heat of Malfoy bobbing up and down, and knew he wasn’t going to be able to hold on much longer.

A slapping noise cut through his constant moaning, and Harry cracked an eye open just enough to glance down, but squeezed it shut again as the imagery was just too much. Malfoy was wanking, his fist pumping his own erection savagely while he sucked off Harry, and it was too much, way too much stimulus for his brain. He practically howled as he came and he would no doubt want to kill himself for it later, but for now he rode out his orgasm noisily, grunting at every spurt that spilled itself down Malfoy’s throat, his eyes rolling back in pleasure.

Harry might have blanked out for a moment, because the next thing he knew he was lying on the ground, chest heaving in breaths and the other teen was lying next to him, his body heat burning Harry’s whole right side. Malfoy must have come as well, since he was rubbing his hand — quite rudely, he might add — off on the shirt Harry still wore. The brunet couldn’t really bring himself to care, instead allowing himself to bask in the afterglow of what he’d just experienced. Humming contently, he slid his eyes shut. This moment was so perfect; nothing in the world could have ruined it.

“Potter,” Malfoy whined annoyingly. Well that certainly ruined the quiet moment sufficiently. Harry sighed.

“What?”

“I’m still itchy.”

“What do you want me to do about it?”

There was a pulse of silence, then Malfoy was rolling over and subsequently on top of him. “Distract me some more.”

That’s funny, Harry’s hand seemed to drift up and run his fingers through silky blond locks all on its own. Soft. Really soft.

“What did you have in mind?”

“You ever been rimmed before?”

At the thought — and because of those swollen lips smirking — a violent shiver racked through Harry’s body, pooling heat into his groin. This trip with Malfoy was definitely starting to look much better.

-Fin
- 1
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Camping troubles