Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

19 Years and 5 Minutes Later	By : TheMightyFlynn Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 58415 -:- Recommendations : 3 -:- Currently Reading : 6
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or any characters related to that series; they are JK Rowling's. I make no money from this.

Chapter List
- 1-19 Years and 5 Minutes Later
- 2-Ch. 2
- 3-Ch. 3
- 4-Ch. 4
- 5-Ch. 5
- 6-Ch. 6
- 7-Ch. 7
- 8-Ch. 8
- 9-Ch. 9
- 10-Ch. 10
- 11-Ch. 11
- 12-Ch. 12
- 13-Ch. 13
- 14-Ch. 14
- 15-Ch. 15
- 16-Ch. 16
- 17-Ch. 17
- 18-Ch. 18
- 19-Ch. 19
- 20-Ch. 20
- 21-Ch. 21
- 22-Ch. 22
- 23-Ch. 23
- 24-Ch. 24
- 25-Ch. 25
- 26-Ch. 26
- 27-Ch. 27
- 28-Ch. 28
- 29-Ch. 29
- 30-Ch. 30
- 31-Ch. 31
- 32-Ch. 32
- 33-Ch. 33
- 34-Ch. 34
- 35-Ch. 35
- 36-Ch. 36
- 37-Ch. 37
- 38-Ch. 38
- 39-Ch. 39
- 40-Ch. 40
- 41-Ch. 41
- 42-Ch. 42
- 43-Ch. 43
- 44-Ch. 44
- 45-Ch. 45
- 46-Ch. 46
- 47-Ch. 47
- 48-Ch. 48
- 49-Ch. 49
- 50-Ch. 50
- 51-Epilogue
- 1
- 2
“I’ll catch up with you in a minute, Gin.”
Harry bent to place a soft kiss on Ginny’s forehead and moved off towards the end of the platform where the public toilets were located. Slipping inside without a backward glance, knowing that Ginny and Lily were fine with Ron and Hermione, Harry did not notice when the door locked behind him. Sticking to his own personal rule of not really acknowledging the other occupants at the trough, Harry simply nodded vaguely when the black-clad man at the other end of the row nodded to him. It was awkward enough when people recognised him in public – even today, 19 years after the end of school – but it was worse when it was somewhere like the loo, where he was particularly vulnerable.
“Yeah, that’s right, Potter. I almost forgot I wasn’t worth acknowledging in public; thank you so much for reminding me.”
Harry’s head snapped up at the pissy tone to Draco Malfoy’s voice. It was a voice he had not really heard in 19 years, unless you counted the few times they had been caught in the same elevator at work. He finished up, tucked himself back in and moved over to the sinks where Malfoy was washing his hands.
“Nothing personal, Malfoy, but I tend to keep my eyes to myself in the public toilets.” He rolled his eyes at the glare Malfoy shot him.
“You know, Potter, I’d thought that after nearly twenty years, we would have been able to see each other in public without you feeling the need to cause some kind of scene.” Malfoy finished drying his hands and turned to meet Harry’s eyes. “But that was always your problem, wasn’t it? Famous Harry Potter was always too good to associate with someone like me, even after the War ended.”
“The only reason you were acquitted of your crimes was because of my testimony, Malfoy, or had you forgotten that?” Harry met Malfoy’s eyes without hesitation, noticing with a sharp stab of annoyance that the git still had at least an inch on him. “If I was still holding onto my old ideas of you, then I would’ve let you go straight to the Dementors and we wouldn’t be having this delightful conversation in a public toilet.”
“Are you threatening me, Mr High-and-Mighty Head Auror?”
“What’s the matter? Still can’t face the truth? Are you going to sue me using Daddy’s money?”
Harry’s Auror reflexes were the only things that saved him from Malfoy’s fist as it swung towards his jaw. He dodged to the side, a wide grin stretching across his face as adrenalin pumped through him. It had been quite a while since he had had to defend himself from an actual physical attack – one of the many perks of having reached Head Auror status was the lessening of his fieldwork role – but Harry’s reflexes seemed to not have been blunted. He circled around Malfoy, who spun around to face him with a snarl.
“I made my reparations years ago and you know it. My family name was cleared and I have worked my arse off to regain society’s approval. Don’t you dare imply that I live off my parent’s money ever again.”
Harry caught a glimpse of heat flashing through Malfoy’s eyes as he advanced on Harry once again. His pulse quickened as they circled, almost like caged animals. He knew he could very easily subdue Malfoy – the moron was trying to fight in a suit of all things! – but decided to play it out, see where Malfoy was trying to take it. Malfoy’s strange grey eyes flittered all over the room, obviously taking in everything he could either use as a weapon or an escape route, but Harry kept his fixed on Malfoy’s face. He had not changed all that much since school: he still had the same pale blonde hair (which was beginning to recede, much to Harry’s delight); sickly pale skin and pointed features, making him look vaguely vulture-like. From what Harry had seen, Malfoy Jr. had the same pale features as his father; not even the famous Greengrass genes had been strong enough to dull out the Malfoy apparently. Harry’s stomach clenched with excitement as Malfoy made a grab at him, but he kept his hands to himself, allowing Malfoy to make the moves.
“Scared, Malfoy?”
That taunt was apparently the last straw. With a strangled cry, Malfoy threw himself at Harry, arms swinging in an attempt to injure him at any cost. They stumbled backwards, Harry’s head coming into contact with the tiled wall behind him hard enough to stun him for a few seconds, allowing Malfoy to get in a good punch to his ribcage. Harry doubled over, gasping for breath as the wind was knocked out of him. This seemed to shock Malfoy, who backed off a few steps. Harry took immediate advantage and lunged, catching Malfoy around the waist and dragging him down to the floor.
“What the –” Malfoy’s exclamation was cut off with a grunt as he had to dodge Harry’s fist, which had been aimed directly between his eyes.
Wrapping his legs around Harry’s waist, Malfoy managed to flip them over so he could take a turn at trying to knock Harry senseless. The scuffle quickly degenerated into the two of them rolling around on the floor, Malfoy’s legs still wrapped tightly around Harry’s waist so he couldn’t get away. The only sounds ringing out in the echoing room were their heavy breathing and the occasional grunt as one or the other of them connected with a fist or well-aimed elbow. Malfoy finally managed to plant his feet firmly enough so that Harry had trouble flipping them again. Regret flashed through Harry’s chest as Malfoy grabbed hold of his wrists and held them above his head, holding him captive quite effectively. He sat back a little, a look of triumph in his eyes as he stared down at Harry helpless beneath him.
“You have no idea how long I’ve waited to have you powerless like this, Potter,” he hissed as something flashed through his grey eyes that caused Harry’s stomach to flip.
“You fantasise about me, Malfoy? Always knew you were a little poof.”
Harry knew taunting Malfoy at this point was probably tantamount to suicide, but if he was going to be taken down by the pale git, his last words weren’t going to be a plea for his life. Shock rippled through him when Malfoy began to laugh.
“A ‘little’ poof, Potter?” Malfoy’s eyes glittered malevolently as he ground his hips into Harry’s thigh, allowing him to feel the large, hard bulge in the front of his expensive trousers. “There’s nothing little about this poof.”
Harry could not help struggling against the hold Malfoy had on him at that. He was married and so was Malfoy – to women. His jab about Malfoy’s sexuality had been just that: something to say that would annoy him just enough so he would slip up, allowing Harry the upper hand. He had not expected to discover that there was a sliver of truth to the accusation. Still, there was something appealing about the idea that Harry absolutely refused to even acknowledge; this was Malfoy for fuck’s sake!
“I’ve seen bigger.” What? No, what the hell was that?! Harry’s eyes widened in horror the second the words were out of his mouth.
“‘Bigger’, Potter?” The words were practically spat in Harry’s face as Malfoy leant in close, moulding their bodies together. “Unlikely, or else I would have found him by now.”
To Harry’s complete and utter disgust, he could feel himself getting hard as Malfoy ground into him. He closed his eyes, telling himself that it was only natural that he should react to direct stimulation; it had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that he had spent quite a few nights wanking to the image of Malfoy’s tight, leather-clad arse on his broom. It also definitely had nothing to do with the fire now burning brightly in his stomach or the sense of right he got from the movement of Malfoy’s body on top of him. Planting his foot on the tiles, he shoved, rolling them over so he was on top.
“I should have known. You always were way too fascinated with me in school to be completely straight.” Despite the fact that he could probably have moved away from Malfoy then, Harry stayed exactly where he was, with Malfoy’s legs once again wrapped around his waist. “You always had to make certain I saw everything you were doing from all the way across the Great Hall. I should have known you wanted me.”
“And you were the one who spent our entire sixth year stalking me, so I guess we’re even.”
The fact that Malfoy had not denied Harry’s accusation sent something very akin to lust shooting through him, hardening him further in his jeans. He leant closer, his hips automatically seeking out the stimulation he was in increasingly desperate need of. The groan Malfoy let out as Harry rutted against him caused Harry’s head to swim.
“You still want this... You still want me,” Harry gasped out, unsurprised at the disbelief in his voice.
What did surprise him was the speed Malfoy moved at, fast enough that in his lust-induced daze, Harry had no chance of preventing it. He found himself face down on the tiled floor, Malfoy’s impressive bulge pressed into his denim-clad arse and hot breath puffing in his ear. He gave up on moving when his cursory attempt at throwing Malfoy off him only resulted in Malfoy’s knees slipping between Harry’s legs, spreading them wide.
“Malfoy’s don’t bottom, Potter.”
Harry let out an incomprehensible moan at the lust-roughened sound of Malfoy’s voice in his ear. He had only had one encounter with a man before this and it had been nearly 19 years ago, so he really did not care whether Malfoy’s bottomed or not, as long as this desperate need that was building in his groin was satisfied soon. Arching his back so his arse pressed into Malfoy’s throbbing cock earned him a chuckle.
“Seems I’m not the only one eager for this; you want me just as much as I want you, Potter,” Malfoy ground out, his voice deepened almost beyond recognition. Harry felt one of those long-fingered hands reach around to undo the fly of his jeans and only just stopped himself from thrusting into it. “Don’t hold back, Potter. I know you want me to fuck you senseless, so there’s no point in trying to hide it.”
The words seemed to release something in Harry’s mind; something that had been holding him back. Closing his eyes, he allowed his hips to jerk forward, groaning in pleasure as Malfoy cupped him through his jeans. Malfoy’s weight pressed him into the tiles for a few seconds before lifting off him, leaving him feeling cold. He was prevented from turning by a hand in the middle of his back, but looked over his shoulder anyway, needing to see what was going on behind him. The sight he got caused another deep groan to escape his throat: Malfoy had stripped his trousers halfway down his thighs and was kneeling between Harry’s spread legs, thick cock in hand.
“Like what you see, Potter? You’d better, because you’ll be getting all of it in a few seconds.”
Harry’s hands flew to the fly of his jeans, clumsy as they worked the buttons out of the loops. The fact that he was working against both the press of his own hard cock and the tiles beneath him didn’t help and he grunted in frustration as he raised his arse so he could work his hands properly beneath him. The second he managed to get his fly undone and began to try to work the jeans down his hips, he found his hands roughly yanked away and the jeans stripped down to his ankles.
“Too slow,” Malfoy grunted, before muttering the preparations charms and entering Harry in one quick thrust.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck!”
Harry could not help the automatic clenching of his muscles as his body fought against having Malfoy lodged so quickly inside him. His fingers curled and he clawed against the tiles in an attempt to find purchase, although what he would do if he managed to find it, he had no idea. The jeans still around his ankles were kicked off as Harry’s feet mirrored his hands, kicking uselessly against the slippery tiles. Unfortunately, this only gave Malfoy the opportunity to spread Harry’s knees wider, opening him up further and making it seem as though he was being filled much more thoroughly. The grinding of Malfoy’s hips against his arse caused Harry to let out what sounded like a small whimper to his ears.
“Am I big enough for you now, Potter?” Malfoy’s voice was strained in Harry’s ear, almost as though he was holding himself back. “Am I enough to fulfil that hunger you have for a cock big enough to satisfy you?”
Now that the initial pain and panic were fading, Harry was able to recognise that at least some of what he had assumed was pain from Malfoy’s sudden entry was a deep and desperate need for the kind of satisfaction Malfoy was offering him. It was something he had denied feeling back in school and had suppressed when he had married Ginny all those years ago, but the fire blazing brightly in his belly was something that Harry was now determined to quench. Clenching his muscles very deliberately this time, he arched his back in offering.
“Fuck me.”
Harry took the deep grunt Malfoy gave in response as acquiescence, as it was swiftly followed by his hips pulling out and snapping back in. His breath huffed out of him as he slid on the tiles with the force of Malfoy’s movement combined with the sharp jab of pain in his nearly-virgin arse. The second thrust hit him from another angle, but did not lessen the pain of being filled so completely in an area that Harry still considered slightly wrong. They continued in this vein for a little while, Malfoy testing out different angles and Harry attempting to not cry out in pain, until the angle seemed to be just right. Pleasure shot through every single one of Harry’s straining nerve endings, causing his entire body to tremble. He was vaguely aware of Malfoy freezing on top of him before he felt the head of that thick cock dragging – seemingly deliberately – across his prostate again. Harry shuddered in pleasure, his back arching of its own accord.
“Like that do you, Potter? Always figured you for a needy little cockslut,” Malfoy ground out as he slowly dragged against Harry’s prostate again, causing the most embarrassing series of noises to escape Harry’s throat. “I’ll show you what a real fucking is.”
Keeping to the angle that caused Harry to see stars, Malfoy began thrusting, falling rapidly into a rhythm. Harry, for his part, squirmed and mewled, pressing back into the thrusts to take as much of that hard cock as he could, not caring what he must look like. The entire world seemed to narrow down to the now almost painful fire burning in his groin and the thick cock striving to quench that fire. Working a hand beneath him, he got a good hold on his own straining cock and tugged, the pleasure coursing through him causing more needy groans to be dragged out of his throat. He was getting close, if the ache in his balls was any indication and his hand sped up in an attempt to hurry himself along. Not that he wanted the pleasure to end, but the build-up was going to kill him if he did not satisfy it soon.
“Gods, yes... C’mon, c’mon,” he moaned, completely unaware that he had spoken aloud. “Yes!”
With one last twist of his wrist, Harry felt his balls draw up, his orgasm following swiftly behind. Splattering his hand and the tiles beneath him with rope after rope of hot cum, Harry ground his hips back into Malfoy, milking the experience for every last bit of pleasure he could. It almost shocked him when he heard a deep groan form behind him and he felt his insides being coated with Malfoy’s release. What did not surprise him was being almost crushed beneath Malfoy’s weight as he landed on top of him the second his cock stopped spasming. Their breath mingled for a little while – Harry was unaware of the passage of time in his post-orgasmic bliss – before Malfoy seemed to gather himself. Harry stayed exactly where he was, face-down on the cool tiles, as he felt a cleansing charm wash over him. It was not until he heard the click of Malfoy’s shoes on the tiles that he stirred, flipping over onto his back.
“It’s a real shame I have no need for a desperate closet-case, Potter: you’d fit the role perfectly.” Harry blinked rapidly, trying to bring Malfoy into focus. “However, perhaps I’ll throw you a bone if I get desperate enough myself in the future.”
The sneered words were accompanied by the tinkling of a couple of coins Malfoy tossed onto Harry’s chest before turning on his heel and stalking out of the restroom. Humiliation prickled Harry’s skin as the reality of what he had just done broke through the happy bubble of bliss that had surrounded him for a few minutes. He had just offered himself up like a common whore to Draco Malfoy; he had cheated on his wife and he had enjoyed it. Swearing profoundly as he scrambled for his discarded clothing, Harry’s mind raced, trying to come up with an adequate reason for the amount of time he had just spent in a public toilet.
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19 Years and 5 Minutes Later