Veritaserum Dreams

I should be beta'ing... But I'm writing instead. I don't need to be writing; i've got things to beta. But I can't concentrate on it. >_<

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Enough was enough. Sexual tension, rival houses, 'undying hatred'...

It was a load of bull, and he was sick of it. The tension was overpowering the rival hate that had run his life for the past six years, and if he was forced to look at Potter's sexy black hair, or smooth browned skin, or shimmering green eyes ONE MORE TIME without being able to jump him, he was going to explode. Or kill someone. Or likely both, or more.

Seventeen was a time of horrible hormonal rushes, embarrassingly timed erections, hair that was more often as not as wild as Potter's if he didn't tame it, and Draco Malfoy was at his wits end. There had to be a cure for this, there HAD to be. It happened in the library, two days prior; he was reading about what muggles called 'puberty' and all the clinical, dispassionate words discussing what he was going through seemed to almost nullify the burning, writhing need to be in contact with someone, to hold them close and join with their body, and kiss them until the sun came up --

Fuck, he was hard again.

Slamming the book down, he checked his potion, pleased to note that it was only about half an hour from completion. Kicking the text for good measure, he eyed the intricately decorated cover, proudly declaring "Advanced Legilimency and Occlumency". He'd been practising all summer with it, getting better and better, and by the time he'd realized that his entire body thrummed whenever Potter so much as breathed in his direction, he found himself with an aching erection, and no company save his hand. The only thing still keeping him from Potter's knickers was the fact that they publicly hated one another, and that it wouldn't be seemly for the last Heir to Malfoy to be openly lusting after a Gryffindor.

Still, staring at his Legilimens text and the veritaserum brewing on the table next to him gave him an idea of such Slytherin proportions that it was hard to keep a small chuckle inside.

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Over the course of the next few days, Draco watched his quarry carefully, taking note of his schedule and his habits, all the while testing out his knowledge of Legilimens on him. Sometimes Potter would catch the spell, and Occlude himself before Draco got very far, and other times Draco managed to get himself in so deep that he forgot who he was for a few minutes. Still, it was very informative. He learned all sorts of things like the fact that Potter was openly - except to the Slytherins - gay, he'd been abused and neglected as a child, he was jealous of the love shared by his two best friends, and most intriguingly of all, he had frequent daydreams of a threesome including himself, Seamus Finnegan, and Draco Malfoy.

Snickering, Draco mused that Harry always bottomed in his daydreams to Malfoy, while sucking Finnegan off, or being sucked off by Finnegan while Draco fucked him. The insight was eye-opening to say the least, and nearly two weeks after his plan had started rolling, Draco cornered Potter in an abandoned hallway.

Shoving the Veritaserum down his throat before he'd even registered the attack, Draco waited for it to take effect, pinning Harry gently but effectively. "What's your full name," he asked after a moment.

"H-harry James Potter," he replied instantly, eyes widening. "Fuck, Malfoy, what the hell do you think you're doing?!"

Draco deigned to answer that with actions rather than waste his breath on the words. Grinding his hips against Potter's, he lowered his lips to the smooth expanse of sun-darkened skin at his throat, sucking and nipping gently until Potter was hard beneath him, and panting.

"Harry, I want you," he whispered, and had the distinct pleasure of seeing Harry's eyes darken with desire. It fluffed his ego to think that he was the one doing this to the other boy, and so effortlessly, too!

"I'm dreaming," Harry said mistily, reminding Draco for a moment of Looney Lovegood. "I must be because this is far too wonderful to actually be happening to me."

Draco bit down hard against Harry's neck, and instead of whimpering and or recoiling in pain as he'd been expecting, the brunet moaned, arching his hips against Draco's. "Do that again, it felt good." he whispered, and Draco shimmied against him, biting again. He was rewarded with another moan, and then all of a sudden he felt powerful. Slamming Harry's hands above his head against the wall, he ground against him, feeding both their erections.

"Does this make you hard?" he asked, and Harry nodded.

"Fuck yes," he whispered. Draco's eyes simmered.

"Do you want me to fuck you right here? Rip your clothes off and pound you into the wall, where anyone could walk by and see us?" Another nod.

"Fuck, Draco.." he whispered, leaning completely against the wall for support. Between the wall and Draco's lithe body was his new favourite spot, and if not for the constant pressure of the other boy against him, he'd have fallen bonelessly to the ground.

"Answer me, Harry," Draco whispered, his free hand reaching between them to start unlacing the strings at Harry's pants. "Does it make you horny knowing that I have complete power over you?"

"Yeesss..." a quiet hiss as Draco wrenched the cloth away from his body, fingers meeting flesh.

"Do you hate me? Did you ever?"

"Yu...ahh.. Used to," Harry murmured, his eyes rolling up and closing as Draco worked his magic with his hand.

"And now?" A quick spell and Harry's hands were bound to the wall without needing Draco to pin him there. Another spell and his feet were spread, also motionless. Harry moaned again, putting up a token struggle to test his bonds. "Now, Harry?" he pressed, tweaking a nipple through the thin fabric of Harry's shirt.

"Nnnh.. Now I don't hate you any more." Harry said succinctly, panting. Draco smirked.

"What do you want me to do to you right now?" he asked, knowing that Harry'd have to answer truthfully.

"Fuck me HARD," Harry burst out, surprising Draco with his intensity. "Make it burn, make me scream, make it so I'll never look at another person without thinking of you.." He looked a little embarrassed at his own words, but then Draco's hands slipped around to his ass, squeezing gently and prizing it apart to make room for his fingers, and nothing mattered.

Then those questing fingers were inside him and Harry whited out for a few moments, only to do it again when Draco's fingertip found and pressed against that spot inside him that sent the lights in front of his face dancing. "Fuckfuckfuck.." he breathed, twisting away automatically from the pleasantly uncomfortable feelings Draco was evoking in him. There was a hot breath on his neck, and Harry had the distinct impression that Draco was casting spells, and was proved correct a few moments later when he felt a wet, cool liquid coating his private areas. Without warning, he found himself pressed into the wall, and Draco was entering him agonizingly slowly.

"Oh, god, it's so good..." he whimpered, trying to press back against that thick length slowly burning into him.

"Patience, Lover," Draco murmured, taking his sweet time enjoying Harry's body. Equally slowly, he withdrew, leaving Harry breathless. Then he was back, pressing in again quickly as though the slow pace were agony for him, too.

"Harder, Drake," Harry whispered harshly, wiggling his ass and clenching the muscles around Draco's cock. Draco moaned, and obliged him, fucking him hard and fast.

Each thrust pressed Draco's length against the spot inside Harry's body, and soon he was clutching at the wall for the strength to resist his orgasm longer. It overtook them both at the same time, Draco pulsing his seed into Harry's body while Harry spilled against the wall. Releasing the bonds, Draco stepped back and righted his clothes, just in time to catch Harry as he collapsed from their exhertions. A little worried, Draco hurried him back to his room in Gryffindor Tower. He'd known the pass word for ages, and it was difficult to miss Harry and Ron's room in the Seventh year floor. Arranging him almost tenderly, Draco penned a note on the nearby Gryffindor stationary, and left.

When Harry awoke some time later, in his bed and clean, he was almost ready to pass the earlier events off as another wet dream. When he moved, the twinges of pain in his ass were his first clue, and the proof was in the delicate, almost feminine handwritten note next to him.

In large, swooping letters were the words, "dreams come true," and it was signed with a crudely animated image of a dragon breathing fire at a hippogriff. Harry clutched the note to his chest like a girl with a note from her crush, and collapsed back against the mattress of his bed, a broad, shit-eating grin on his face.
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END.

XD I've no idea where this came from. ONE SHOT, not that theres anywhere else to take it, and random PWP. It was very...spongy, in my head. Usually when I write I have a very rigid way of going about it, searching endlessly for the right words, the proper descriptions... this, I didn't even think about it, so sorry if it's bad.

Couple of notes that came up in reviews; I can't write Dom!Harry, and I'd rather not read it, either, sorry. I should have mentioned this IN the story, but Voldemort's gone, and it's Seventh year.
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AN: I hate admitting defeat, but I offered to beta for someone a while back, thinking that I could, and I just can't find the motivation to do it. This is kind of my apology; I may have to give it up. I've barely got enough time for my own writing, much less other peoples, and it makes me sad to admit it, because their fanfics are quite good, save for the small errors that a beta could easily fix, had they the patience to go through it, and needless to say, patience has never been my strongest point. I hope you enjoyed this; I just couldn't get it out of my head. I've got several short stories in the works right now for my "Short Takes" and Part and Parsel is, to my own knowledge, finished, at least until my muse wakes up and kicks me about it, and the British Academy is... somewhat on the backburner.