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bryoneybrynn

They took off their clothes quickly; ripped it to shreds even. Years of tension and animosity resulting in explosive desire that urged them to forgo slow exploration and simply give into their yearnings.

Draco straddled Potter's legs and licked Potter's cock wetly, swirling his tongue at the tip only to engulf it a second later, causing a moan to escape Potter's lips. Moving his tongue, Draco bobbed his head rapidly, slicking the hard length with saliva, mindful of the sounds Potter was making. When Potter began to pant and blabber incoherently; hands twisting the sheets and head thrashing left and right, Draco released Potter's cock with a slurp and a pop. Ignoring Potter's grumbling, he scrambled towards the end of the bed and fished the tube of lube from his night cabinet.

Returning to his place beside Potter, Draco shoved the tube in Potter's hand and lay back contently.

Potter looked confused for a moment, and he stared at the lube like it was an invention he had never seen before. Draco promised himself, that if Potter asked what that was for, he would thump him. There was ignorant, and then there was stupid. He could only hope that Potter wasn't a idiot. Or worse — a virgin.

However, Potter grinned and rolled on his side, pressing the lube back into Draco's hand.

"Why don't you do it?" he said sweetly.

Draco frowned. "If you want my arse, Potter, you'll have to stick your fingers in it first. Now, carry on."

Potter scrunched up his face and stuck out his bottom lip. In a very non-endearing manner that nonetheless made Draco smile. "Well, I thought," Potter began hesitantly. "I thought I'd bottom."

"That's nice." Draco smiled. "But no. I prefer to bottom. So ..." Draco waved his hand impatiently, spreading his legs in encouragement. Why were they wasting their time taking?

"But ... I prefer to bottom, as well," Potter argued petulantly.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't know," Draco said sympathetically. "Tough luck. Because with me — you're topping." Noticing that Potter still looked disappointed, Draco changed tactics. He rose up and licked Potter's pouting bottom lip, gently nipping the plump flesh and purring, "You'll love it, Potter. You want to be on top? Well, then just lay back and let me ride you. I'll ride you so hard, you'll beg me to never stop."

Potter shuddered and Draco already thought he had won, but then Potter edged away and huffed.

"That's not the point. If I want to bottom and you want to bottom. Then we should ... flip a coin or something. Why would you get your way?"

"Because I said so," Draco growled, quite annoyed now.

Potter sat up suddenly and crossed his hands on his chest. "That is not a good reason."

Draco had a sudden urge to stomp his feet. And strangle Potter. Not necessarily in that order. "All right. Because ..." Draco cleared his throat, trying to come up with a good enough reason. "Well, I enjoy it. And I'm ... er ... blond. And prettier and ... a more fabulous bottom than you."

That was clearly a wrong thing to say, which Draco realized when Potter pressed his lips together and glared. After quite some time he mumbled petulantly, "I'm fabulous."

Draco blew an annoyed breath. "Fine. You can bottom some other time. I'm getting cold here."

"Fine," Potter snapped and grabbed the lube. He squeezed some of it on his fingers and just as Draco lay back on the pillows contently, Potter had moved away and lay on his back.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Draco asked disbelievingly.

Potter had made himself comfortable and had risen his legs, bending them at the knees, which made Draco's cock twitch. Because that was a spectacular view. Draco had always imagined Potter on top of him, pounding inside him with fire and passion one would expect from the Wizarding World's Saviour. He had never imagined seeing Potter like this; on his back, legs spread wide and ...

"Merlin!" Draco breathed, gasping as Potter unceremoniously stuck two fingers up his own arse.

"If you insist on being a selfish prick, I'll just take care of things myself," Potter panted between moans.

Draco would have been indignant at this proclamation, but all he could do was stare at Potter's slick digits moving in and out of his arse. He hadn't even realized that he had sat up to see better.

Potter moved his hand leisurely, making small Oh-sounds with each thrust of his fingers. The tight ring of muscles gave in easily; Draco could see it accepting the intrusion, encircling the digits when Potter pushed them all the way inside.

"This isn’t fair," Draco mourned, his disobedient hand stroking his own cock.

But Potter didn't appear to have heard him. Instead, he added a third finger, moaning loudly and lifting his arse higher. Draco was torn between appreciation and jealousy. Potter should have been doing this to him, not to himself. But it was hard to complain when Potter grabbed the headboard with one hand and began to finger-fuck himself with the other.

Draco whimpered. Potter was ruthless. In a way Draco would not have been if he was doing this. But Potter was thrusting his fingers inside of himself with all of his might, whimpering and gasping, his hand a blur; though, that might have been the result of Draco's sudden dizziness.

Draco barely knew where to look — there was just so much to see. So much to admire. Like Potter's arse that looked all shiny from lube and sweat; raising and circling as Potter rolled his hips relentlessly. Like Potter's strong hand and long fingers that pounded mercilessly into the tender furrowed flesh that soon looked red and abused and inviting. Like Potter's stomach where sweat-slicked skin was stretched tightly over defined muscles — hard muscles now quivering and twitching from exertion. Like Potter's chest, raising and expanding as he gasped; nipples taut — two hard peaks of brown begging to be licked. Like Potter's neck, long and strong; veins and Adam's apple pronounced as Potter thrashed his head around. Like Potter's hand that gripped the headboard, knuckles white and muscles straining. And Potter's face — his hair a mess, forehead sweaty, eyes shut tightly, and full lips parted to cry sharp strings of "Oh! Oh! Oh!"

Potter seemed lost in his pleasure, as though he had completely forgotten that Draco was there. His cries became louder and he slowed down his hand just a little; the thrust of his fingers turning deeper, making wet sounds that mixed with Potter's whimpers. And Draco realized that Potter was close. That he would come even though he had not touched his cock yet. And suddenly Draco was panicking; Potter couldn't just ... Not without Draco.

Draco sprung into action, grabbing Potter's wrist and steadying his hand, before he carefully pulled it away.

Potter groaned and opened his eyes, and Draco thought he had caught a shadow of a smirk on his face, but Draco wiped it off by thrusting his cock firmly inside Potter's hole. They gasped in unison, as everything stilled for a moment. Draco felt like he was on fire, enveloped so tightly in Potter's heat, and Potter gave a long groan, almost purred as he gripped the headboard with both hands and circled his hips in encouragement.

Draco needed no encouragement, however. He pulled out his cock almost completely and slammed back in, daring to be as brutal as he wished because obviously Potter liked that. Potter like it a lot and he had opened his eyes and clenched his jaw, driving his arse down on Draco's cock, meeting thrust for thrust, his rhythm almost too fast for Draco to follow.

"I — was — wrong," Draco panted breathlessly, feeling sweat forming on his forehead, as he pounded inside Potter's arse, each push driving Potter closer to the headboard, which was hammering against the wall; the whole bed squeaking from the force of their coupling. Draco found some strength within him to grab Potter's pulsing cock. "You are fabulous!" Draco said reverently. Apologetically. And either that or Draco's stroking hand had been the last straw the sent Potter over the brink.

Clenching around Draco's cock so hard Draco saw millions of stars forming in front of his eyes, Potter cried out and came, pearly white liquid coating his stomach, his chest and Draco's hand. It was the last thing Draco had seen before everything turned blindingly bright and Draco's body shuddered at the intensity of his own orgasm.

Coming back to his senses, Draco had found himself lying on top of Potter, feeling warm hands stroking his hair gently. With supreme effort, he raised his head to glance at sated and smug-looking Potter.

"Next time I'll bottom," Draco said quickly. Brilliant though this was, now that he had seen how incredibly forceful Potter could be, Draco shuddered to think what it would felt like if Potter was pinning him down to the bed and fucking him in the way he had fucked himself.

Potter didn't appear to be in complaining mood anymore. "Yes, you will," he agreed. "You'll just have to learn to compromise at times."

Draco huffed. He wasn't the manipulative one who had given a spectacular show in order to have his way.

But then again, Draco supposed he had insulted Potter.

He pressed a kiss to Potter's lips. "I'm sorry I questioned your bottoming abilities. I was just desperate and babbling nonsense," he said demurely, not without agenda.

Potter laughed, still stroking his hair. "Well, you were right about something. You are prettier."

Draco grinned and then sighed, "I know."