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Harry Potter, Virgin Extraordinaire	By : lordoberon Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male Views: 16229 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: Harry Potter is entirely the property of J.K. Rowling. I claim no ownership over it. I make no money in the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 5
- 6
- 7
This chapter doesn't get very much further in, but ah well, it is still progress!

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HARRY POTTER, VIRGIN EXTRAORDINAIRE

an HP fanfic

by lordoberon

CHAPTER 6

It felt so good to have that warmth slide over Harry’s skin, while at the same time he could watch Blaise, and Blaise watched back. When Blaise was sliding his hands through his hair, lathering it with shampoo, Harry couldn’t resist the urge to help. He pushed his hands into that thick head of curls, laughing. Blaise closed his eyes and let Harry finish washing his hair, smiling, and when that was done, he took the scrubbie from Harry’s hand and scrubbed him down personally.

His hands glided silky over Harry’s skin, up his chest, down his shoulders, down to his arse. Harry moaned as Blaise’s wonderful hands kneaded him. Then Blaise’s hands were at his front, and he felt himself become breathless with need as they touched him everywhere, in every crevice, across every surface.

Then Blaise began to kiss his cock, slow, licking kisses, lingering. Harry moaned as that soft mouth touched the head, and then sunk slowly over his whole length. Blaise’s tongue remained slow, soft and hot over Harry’s skin. When Harry jerked his hips up, Blaise pulled away, grinning.

“What?” Harry said, a little tersely.

“I’m leaving you like that because I love torturing, remember? Especially you…” Blaise’s fingertips grazed up Harry’s side, and even that was somehow titillating. “Your reactions…”

Blaise leaned forward to breathe hotly into Harry’s ear, “Your reactions are like a flush of warm Butter beer in my throat, with a shot of fire whiskey added. Sweet, warm, delicious…hot and burning…”

Harry whimpered. Blaise’s voice alone was making his cock react, burgeoning, and it was sheer torture. He thought Blaise could make him come with his voice alone, if he wanted to.

“Are you,” he licked his lips, “Are you going to finish it, or fuck me, or not?”

He turned around in the shower, and planted his hands on the wall. He hadn’t been taken from behind yet, where he couldn’t see Blaise’s face, but he thought that he might present an appealing picture to encourage Blaise, posed this way.

It worked. The Slytherin slid in right behind Harry, and his cock was already firm and ready as it pressed up against Harry’s arse. “Harry,” Blaise whispered, “You keep surprising me.”

And then his tongue was tasting Harry, fucking him, and then he was within Harry in one sweet, burning slide, and he started fast, and kept the pace up. His hands were on Harry’s hips, grounding him, and his sounds were in Harry’s ears, beautiful. The water flowed over them, beating a rhythm separate from their driving, urgent rhythm.

“Hngh…Blaise…Blaise…” and Harry was shouting, because he couldn’t hold it back anymore. His face was pressed up so hard against the slick wall that it hurt. His hands had Blaise’s mashed over them again, and Blaise’s fingernails dug into his skin. The Slytherin grunted and groaned behind Harry, and his cock was so good within Harry, so hungry.

It lasted too short. Before Harry knew it, he was coming, and Blaise followed suit. They collapsed in a wet, tangled heap on the floor of the shower. With a flick of his wand, Blaise shut it off, wrapped Harry in a towel, and half-carried, half-dragged Harry, laughing, to his bed.

Harry collapsed over the white sheets, sighing in contentedness. He opened his eyes to see Blaise looking at him. Blaise’s expression was soft, and Harry didn’t think he’d quite seen Blaise look like that yet. It made his heart speed up, and he smiled.

“What are you looking at?”

Blaise blinked suddenly, as if returning from a far-off place, and murmured, “Just you, on my bed. I like it.”

He clambered onto the bed, and over Harry’s prone form. He kissed Harry’s forehead, and then his nose. “Still no glasses?”

Harry shook his head. “I sortof forgot them, I guess. Usually I wear them at my flat. They’re comfortable, and I’m so used to them. But I was…anxious.”

“About me?”

Again Harry shook his head. “No. Least of all about you. About me. But let’s not talk about it.”

Blaise shrugged. “As you please.” He kissed Harry, softly, tenderly. Harry loved it. He didn’t think he was ready to tell Blaise yet how much he enjoyed Blaise’s tender side; that he was seeing it, that Blaise was showing him, and how good it felt to have someone to enjoy tenderness with at all.

So he asked, “Why do you like me on your bed so much?” He really did want to know.

Blaise smiled, and lowered his gaze. He traced over Harry’s bare torso with a finger.

“Well,” he said, “You look good on it. Sexy. And…it’s nice to have someone to warm the bed for me. And…you. You feel…different than the others. Most people, I would’ve let leave me last night, without making them promise to return. But you…I had to have you again. But it’s more. I would usually be more about my satisfaction…or if it was about my partner’s satisfaction, satisfying them would be a matter of pride for me. But with you…you bring more to the plate. You make me want to satisfy you, just because. It’s…weird.”

Harry lolled his tongue in his mouth. He didn’t quite know what to say to that. A hopeful little part of him said that maybe, just maybe, Blaise wanted to be with Harry more, just as Harry, in turn, felt like he wanted more time with Blaise – whether sexual or not. And it wasn’t just because he needed Blaise’s company to fulfill his empty, lonely time. He genuinely liked Blaise.

And Blaise seemed to be saying the same thing. But Harry didn’t want to really talk about it, because what if he wrecked things? So he just said, “Well, you’re certainly expert at satisfying me. And as for the rest…well, I’ve never really experienced anything like this, either.”

He looked up into Blaise’s dark eyes, which looked back at him. Blaise just looked; he wasn’t really trying to read Harry, although Harry had purposely left his meaning ambiguous. Then Blaise cracked a smile, and lay down on the bed and pulled Harry close.

Somehow that little gesture said a lot more than anything Blaise could have replied with.

They lay like that, together. Harry felt so comfortable in Blaise’s arms. Blaise’s body was damp against his, and he smelled like sweet lavender just a little. His hands were on Harry, one on his back, the other against the back of his head. Harry had pushed his chin in the crook of Blaise’s shoulder, and had one leg between Blaise’s.

This was definitely not just a one night stand or a fun fucking, he thought to himself. He wouldn’t do this with someone he just wanted to enjoy. Neither would Blaise. He wondered if, as Harry felt his loneliness comforted by Blaise’s company, perhaps Blaise needed him for something, too. He knew that Blaise wasn’t enamored of his name or fame. He hoped that maybe, Blaise just liked him, and wanted him in his home.

Harry slept deeply.

When he woke, he was still wrapped pleasantly in Blaise’s arms. He turned a little in sleep, and watched as Blaise woke up. The Slytherin yawned, stretching his long body out, and then looked at Harry. He gave Harry a sleepy smile.

“Hungry?”

Harry realized he was, because it had been ages since he’d eaten dinner, but he wasn’t sure if he wanted that more or to go back to sleep. He also wanted to do more things with Blaise. He wasn’t sure which choice he wanted more. It was all good, it was all Blaise.

A growl from Harry’s stomach decided for him.

Blaise laughed, “That answers that.” He sat up in bed, and Harry watched as Blaise flipped his hair back behind his head, ran a hand through it, and then stretched again. God he looked good. He turned and offered a hand to Harry, who took it, and they walked hand in hand to the kitchen.

“I’m a good cook, too,” Blaise remarked. He leaned back against the stove, naked and totally comfortable. His gaze roved down Harry’s body and back up, and then he asked, “What would you like?”

The question was so vague, and it made Harry smirk. He liked how he wasn’t sure if Blaise was asking about sex or food. It was funny how comfortable Blaise was with walking around naked, and Harry supposed it came from experience. He himself did it sometimes, of course, now that he lived in his own flat, but he still wasn’t as comfortable with it as Blaise seemed to be.

“Um, what do you cook best?”

“Anything. I can whip up a salad, too, or a dessert, if you like.”

“Hmm.” Harry’s stomach growled again, urging him to hurry up. “I didn’t have dessert today…”

“Name your favorite, then. Hogwarts feast days? I eat well, but I still remember those Hogwarts feasts as having some of my favorite foods. Yours?”

Harry smiled. “Treacle tart was always the one I went for.”

Blaise smiled back. “‘Treacle tart, sweetheart,’” he teased in a Cockney accent, reminding Harry of that old Cockney rhyme. “How many?”

“Oh, just one is fine.”

Harry sat down at the dining table, feeling strange sitting naked in a chair. He watched as Blaise gathered ingredients together from his cupboard. He almost seemed to be making the dessert Muggle style, and this surprised Harry. It made him think of the days he’d cooked for the Dursleys, although he’d never gotten to eat a single delicious dessert he’d ever made for them…he frowned, and was caught frowning when Blaise looked over at him.

“What’s wrong?”

“Um, nothing,” Harry lied, tracing his tongue over his lips. Why did he always manage to think of something to sour a good thing? He supposed it came with the territory. Even though Voldemort was dead, his past always came up to haunt him, sometimes in odd moments like this.

“There’s that ‘nothing’ that’s loaded with shit,” Blaise said, and sent his ingredients spinning together in a big glass bowl with a flick of his wand.

He came over to stand across the table from Harry then. Resting his arms across the top, he looked at Harry. “Tell me. What is it?”

Harry looked down at the table. “It’s just…stupid memories that creep up. It’s nothing important. They’re gone now anyway…my, my mum’s sister’s family. I lived with them as a kid. It…wasn’t the best.”

Blaise pursed his lips, still looking at Harry. “Muggles, were they?”

“Are. Yeah. It was…not fun. But, I don’t like to dwell on it. What about you? Did you live in a manor like the Malfoys?”

Blaise gave a short laugh. “That hunk of mansion? No, I never lived in anything like that. Well, not at first. My father was a poor slob who couldn’t provide. He was the last of them, because my mother changed things after that. His shortcomings were what killed him, really.”

Harry blinked. He’d heard of much worse, and seen worse, in his work as an Auror, but hearing it from someone he cared about and knew a little personally was alarming. But he kept his voice calm and said simply, “Your mother killed him?”

Long lashes dipped down briefly, and then Blaise looked straight at Harry. “Yes. She did. I trust you won’t arrest her for it. She’s slipped out of Auror hands multiple times already. She’s craftier than a lot of people can fathom.”

Harry forced himself to crack a tiny smile. “Slytherin?”

Blaise laughed. “Yes. She was, and I was, as you know. Thank you for not making a big deal out of it. I know it must disturb you, and not only because of your line of work, but because of who you are. Here, your tart is ready.”

Harry’s tart whirled to stop on the table in front of him, as well as a fork. Blaise watched as Harry took the first bite.

“Good?”

Harry chewed, swallowed, and then said through a second mouthful, “Yesh.”

A sweet smile with teeth shone on Blaise’s face. He sat down, and rested his chin on his hands, watching Harry eat.

Harry let him, because he liked the smile, and he knew that when he’d gotten appreciation over his cooking (post-Hogwarts, from friends and Ginny) he had enjoyed it. So he allowed it. Normally he wouldn’t like the staring though.

“When you say, ‘because of who I am,’ what do you mean, Blaise? Because Voldemort killed my parents, I’m bugged by one person killing another?”

Blaise placed a hand on the table, and tilted his head to one side. “It’s not just that. It’s your principles, your sense of morality. You might have had a bad upbringing with Muggles, but you knew that killing someone is bad, and you just don’t do it. I didn’t learn that as a child. Well, I learned it from other children…I learned it when people, and not just children, were afraid of my mother. And yet she still managed to capture more and more men…”

He leaned back in his chair now, head rested in his cupped hands, and seemed to stare off in thought. Then he leaned back in as Harry was halfway through his tart, and said, “Let me do something really quick.”

He flicked his wand towards the treacle tart, and something came out of it and hung at the tip of his wand. He waved it towards the glass bowl in the kitchen, and more treacle tart began to form there.

“You seem extra hungry.”

Harry nodded. “Thanks.”

He wanted to say something in response to what Blaise had said, as it had been quite personal and something Blaise had not had to tell Harry. It gave Harry a new side of Blaise to ponder over, and he liked that Blaise obviously had a sense of morality – even if it had taken time to develop. He knew things weren’t just black and white, they never had been, and it was interesting and also creepy, to hear about Blaise’s childhood with a single mother who took on husband after husband and killed them all.

“Your mother…is she still living? When did you start living in a manor like the Malfoys?”

“Yes, she’s still alive, kicking, killing, spending, all of it.” Blaise gave a rueful smile. “She keeps it all to herself in vault after vault at Gringotts and other banks. She filches from the Zabini vault when she feels it’s necessary, though nothing that woman does is really necessary. As for the Zabini Manor, well…there are many. She moves around a lot, too. She has the attention span of a fly. The manor that I call my own, which I spent the most time in as a child up till our Third Year at Hogwarts, was the first. She bought it when I was about six.”

Harry finished his last bite of treacle, and scooted the empty plate away with one hand. “So you had a few years of…at least environmental stability, before she started moving you both around?”

Blaise nodded. Then he turned to the glass bowl, Summoned it across the room, and plonked it down on the table.

“Can you stand up a second?”

Harry obediently stood up. His fork and plate were whisked away and set to washing themselves in the kitchen sink. Blaise elongated the table with a spell, placed the bowl in Harry’s empty hands, and lay down on top of the table, face towards the ceiling.

“Smear me,” he said.

Harry goggled, from Blaise to the bowl of crust-less treacle tart filling, and then laughed. “Are you serious? I thought that food idea was just a joke.”

Blaise smirked. “It was. But then I saw how hungry you are. It made me want to actually do this. I’ve done it before, it’s good. Just try it.”

Harry laughed. “But it’s silly. It’s like…playing with our food, except we’re adults.”

Blaise nodded. “Exactly. And as adults, we can bring playing with food to the next level…and make it hot. Come on, I’ve seen you have way too much fun with that lube on my cock. Here’s your chance to do even more.”

He grinned at Harry, raising his eyebrows suggestively, making Harry laugh again.

Sighing because it was so ridiculous, Harry dipped a hand into the thick treacle mix. He scooted closer to the table and smeared a glob of it in a swipe across Blaise’s chest.

“There. See? Silly.”

Blaise shut his eyes. “Keep going.”

Harry rolled his eyes and dipped a hand in again. This time he smeared the mixture slowly down Blaise’s torso, in one glob after another, until Blaise was covered from collarbone to navel. It seemed like the treacle was set to not run out, in a spell of sorts. When Harry’s hand paused at Blaise’s navel, the dark-haired Slytherin requested, “Lower.”

Harry swallowed. He put more on his hand, and coated Blaise’s hips, his thighs, and then finally went up to his cock. He rubbed over it appreciatively, watching it harden, and smoothing the treacle into Blaise’s skin.

“Not so deeply,” Blaise said, “I want you to be able to taste it when you put your mouth there.”

Harry licked his lips, feeling the first inklings of arousal at this strange activity swirl up inside him. He coated Blaise’s cock again, leaving more treacle on the surface, and leaving Blaise harder. He skipped Blaise’s legs, and moved up to Blaise’s neck.

When his fingernails scratched lightly over the soft skin below Blaise’s jaw, just by his ear, the Slytherin breathed an, “mmm.” So Harry did it again, scratching Blaise like a sort of cat, and his lover sighed in appreciation.

“You’re good with your hands, too. The honing Seeker. I’m smelling sweet enough to attract a hive of bees. Keep going. Can you feed me some? I like treacle, too.”

Harry got a blob on his finger, and slid it into Blaise’s open mouth. Blaise sucked it, licked over Harry’s finger with his tongue, and scraped treacle off it with his teeth. His eyes were shut, and just the sight of him sucking like that made Harry think of Blaise sucking his cock. He felt himself harden more.

Blaise licked the last of the sweet thoroughly off of Harry’s fingers, and when he opened his eyes and saw Harry’s aroused state, he murmured, “Are you sure you don’t want to be the one covered in food? I wouldn’t mind licking and biting and sucking you all over.”

Again Harry was affected by Blaise’s voice alone. He moaned at the idea, and brought another glob for Blaise to suck from his finger. He didn’t answer Blaise’s question, because he wasn’t sure.

Smiling, his eyes glinting with lust, Blaise suddenly pulled Harry forward into a kiss. Harry could taste the delicious treacle tart in Blaise’s mouth, and found himself kissing more eagerly, his tongue diving to taste every bit of treacle.

When Blaise pulled away from the kiss, Harry kept going. He dragged his tongue across Blaise’s cheek, down to his neck, which smelled so sweet. Harry breathed in that lovely treacle scent deeply. He lapped at the smooth, thick creamy sweet, sucking it bit by bit from Blaise’s skin. Blaise was moaning in response. His hands dug through Harry’s hair, massaging his scalp.

Harry moved lower, lower. He wasn’t even focused on his hunger anymore, he found. Instead he was just reveling in sucking Blaise all over, in feeling that soft skin revealed to him bite by bite, lick by lick. He swiped up the stuff, down to Blaise’s chest. Then he clambered up onto the table, too, and straddled Blaise. The closer he was getting to Blaise’s cock, he found, the more excited he was. He breathed quickly in anticipation, and his cock was eager.

When he used his teeth, scraping delicate trails, and suckled to get thicker bits of treacle from Blaise’s body, Blaise made appreciative noises. His hands stroked down Harry’s shoulders in a rhythmic motion, until Harry went lower.

He reached Blaise’s navel, and licked all around it, before plunging his tongue in the little dip there. Blaise groaned loudly. “Harry. Please fuck my arse with your tongue again. I can’t have that only once. Your tongue is so good.”

Tight and hard now, Harry pushed his tongue around more there, and then, with beads of saliva left behind on Blaise’s glistening, wet skin, he reached Blaise’s hard cock. He licked the head first, swirling his tongue over and over it, moaning at the flavor it had now.

“Mmm, Blaise,” he moaned, licking harder, “I’ll…never think of…treacle tart the same way again…now…”

Blaise laughed, and then moaned as Harry bit with his teeth. “Good.”

Harry lapped hard then, moaning as Blaise’s cock got harder. When he used his teeth, Blaise became erect. He suckled harder now, and moved slowly more down over Blaise’s cock. It was so big, and he licked it over and over, trying to get every drop of treacle gone.

“Mmm!” Blaise thrust up into Harry’s mouth. “Harry!”

Harry suckled harder, faster, bobbing his head, and then abruptly he pulled off and away. Blaise stared at him.

“Torture,” Harry answered Blaise’s unspoken question, grinning. “Revenge.”

“Shit,” Blaise shut his eyes. “I knew you’d get me back for that. You never were a door mat. Quite the opposite, really.”

“Unless we want the same thing. Which I think we do…”

And without another word, Harry ducked his head, and he was about to tongue Blaise’s hole again, when Blaise said, “Wait.”

He tipped his wand into the treacle bowl, and pointed it, amusingly, at his own arse. “Treacle.”

Harry laughed, but waited, and when it was done, he found himself thrusting his tongue into Blaise’s hole with the flavor of treacle bursting over his tongue. Eagerly, lovingly, he licked slowly. Blaise pushed up against him, moaning his name.

“Harder,” he gasped, “Faster.” It was just like the image Harry had had when he first met Blaise in the Muggle club, of Blaise gasping that, and yet it was entirely different, too. He never would have pictured himself eating treacle out of anyone, Merlin it was weird, but good, too.

And the harder he pushed his tongue in, the more Blaise fell apart. He became a moaning, thrashing mess, whimpering when Harry’s tongue left, pushing. His hands fell to his sides and he gripped the rim of the table, groaning low and long when Harry’s tongue reached deep inside. It was so hot and so good, Harry couldn’t stop. He loved Blaise’s reactions, and the heat of Blaise around his stroking tongue.

Blaise came suddenly, moaning, and Harry eagerly lapped it up, swiping up come and treacle where it remained on Blaise’s thighs and belly. When he was done, he knew he was close to coming, too, but the burning in Blaise’s eyes demanded that, again, he enter Blaise with his cock. So with a sigh, he eased himself into that tight, hot hole again.

Groaning, Harry shut his eyes, and thrust slowly inward and out. He got a good rhythm going, and then his cock got overwhelmed with that wonderful, slippery heat and tight grip, and he shot his finish deep within Blaise’s body.

When he was done, Blaise sat up, and pulled Harry against him tight. “Please fuck me,” he growled, “Right now.”

Harry stammered something about not being ready yet, and immediately, with a smirk, Blaise’s hands were on his cock. Nimble fingers coaxed little moans from Harry as they gripped, pulled, and rubbed over Harry’s cock. When he had had some time to warm up again, he found himself panting at Blaise’s touches. They were very planned out, teasing the head, stroking the balls with one finger, and scraping fingernails up and down the length.

Then a hot tongue descended to take their place, and Harry clutched Blaise’s hair and moaned wantonly as Blaise sucked at him.

When he was thoroughly slicked, Blaise stopped. He lay back down on the table, hard now too. With his eyes half-lidded in lust, he asked, “Please. Please, Harry. Use all your strength. Make it hard. Ride me like one of those anal-retentive hippogriffs. No, no, like your Firebolt. Smooth, with your thighs clenching tight, natural and easy and flowing.”

Harry panted at the words alone, even though it was a cheesy joke, because Blaise crooned it and purred it and moaned it.

He licked in Blaise’s hole again, once, twice, slow and long. Then Blaise said, “Please…you have to start.”

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Next: sex, flying, and their dinner. Sorry this thing is turning out so long, haha.
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Harry Potter, Virgin Extraordinaire