𝐋𝐔𝐁𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐓𝐘

Single Chapter

Title: Lubricity
Author: The Ruby Moth
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Rating: NC-17 for pure m/m slash smut adult mature sexual content.
Summary: Harry's fantasy-life is jaded and wanking is better with proper lube, not an elementary spell. In his attempt to find an answer to both problems, he discovers it in Draco Malfoy of all people.
Author's Note:Harry's seventh year, Voldie's dead; it was hard for me to write a smutty one-shot PWP about lube, wanking and gay sex if Voldemort and his horcruxes were lurking about.
Warnings: PWP, One-shot, First-Time, Self-wank, Gay Anal Sex, the Search for Lubricant.
Additional Note: Chanterelles are perfectly edible; they are not 'magic' mushrooms containing Psilocybin.

The Gryffindor boys' dormitory was silent, filled only by the quiet snores issued by Ron in the bed closest to Harry's.

Restless, Harry tossed and turned in his bed, feeling a nameless urge that he couldn't place. He wanted to get off, but there was nothing to get off to.

He tried to think of Cho, or Lavender's breasts, or the flash of Pansy Parkinson's knickers the week before when she'd suffered that sudden skirt-lifting hex by one of the leering fifth year boys. Nothing; no effect upon his imagination. Nothing fired him up.

Lately, trying to have a solitary wank was growing to be a nuisance for Harry. All the usual fantasies didn't do it for him, and the things he was supposed to think about had no effect. He wasn't tossing off before sleep anymore, and this was resulting in his waking up in the early hours of the morning filled with an agitation he couldn't dispel. He'd even risen and taken his broom out for a fly outside a few days ago but it hadn't helped.

Taking his cock in hand, he realised his palm was dry and it chafed as he tried to rub himself. Licking his palm, he tried again, but it still felt dismally dry.

With an irritated sigh, he fumbled in the dark for his wand at his bedside, and muttered the Silencing Charm, and then the Lubricus Spell. Aiming for his hand resulted in a sticky unguent gel that immediately began sliding off his palm and he quickly stuck his hand down the waistband of his pyjamas. He dropped his wand on the bedcovers beside him.

The sensation of the cold, slick mass - that hadn't properly warmed from his body heat - congealing upon his half-heartedly semi-erect cock was less than stimulating. Feeling stupid and rather put out, Harry attempted to fist his cock harder, quicker, and closed his eyes, thinking of Cho's long, glossy dark hair.

The memory of that wet kiss and all the attending feelings of self-conscious inadequacy and frustration returned, and he swiftly changed over to Ginny. Red hair and wild spitfire…and he felt odd despite having had her, because not only was Ron lying not a few feet away from him, but it made him feel like he was back in the Burrow, wanking over the youngest sister which in the past had always felt rather naughty and had done it for him nicely. Right now it made him even limper. Why would he wank over Ginny when she was no longer with him?

The thought of Pansy's pink lace knickers as her skirt had flown up and she shrieked that cold afternoon was inspiring, until he realised that in spite of it being illicit and sexy, there was absolutely nothing else about Pansy he wanted to see. The boys assembled in the corridor on their way to D.A.D.A. had all laughed and whistled, and the other girls had all grinned coldly at the Slyth girl's humiliation.

But the thought of what lay beneath the knickers wasn't exactly enough to make him want to ask her out - and the knowledge that her rather pug-nosed expression of superiority would light up with triumph if he dared. Him, the quintessential Gryffindor, asking out the Princess of Slytherin of their seventh year… She'd reject him and he wouldn't blame her, nor would he be disappointed about it.