In Your Arms, Rests My World

In Your Arms, Rests My World. Pt. 1

Up until two minutes ago, it had been just another tussle with Malfoy.

Harry had said something to piss him off, Malfoy had attempted to hex Harry, throwing himself bodily at Harry when he'd missed and then howling in pain when Harry's fist connected with his jaw.

Then Harry had pressed Malfoy face first into the wall to subdue the wild thrashing and badly aimed punches.

And he'd whispered something poisonous into Malfoy's ear to further instigate him.

And then his hand had, quite accidentally, brushed Malfoy's cock. Scratch that – Malfoy's erection.

At which point Malfoy had gasped and strained, pushing his boner against Harry's hand.

And so now, suddenly, Harry finds himself pushing down Malfoy's grey trousers, reaching in, and pulling out his rosy, weeping cock, pulling down the foreskin none too gently, and running his thumb over the sensitive glans, his other hand holding his rumpled white shirt bunched up around his thin waist, his knuckles grazing the soft, warm skin of Malfoy's belly.

Malfoy whimpers, pressing his arse into Harry's crotch as he arches into the wall and Harry grits his teeth at the friction, his own cock reacting with speedy alacrity and filling up at the contact.

"Fuck," Malfoy breathes, his head falling back onto Harry's shoulder, his body quivering. "Potter."

In reply, Harry simply grips the length of his cock and strokes, once, twice, before pausing. Malfoy bucks forward into his hand, cursing under his breath when Harry pulls away his hand.

He spits loudly onto his palm and then Malfoy is moaning as Harry starts stroking his cock again, not bothering with slow, lazy strokes, instead pumping his fist in lightning quick movements that reduce Malfoy into a gasping, quaking, swearing mess.

The castle is silent and still, and the darkness outside the nearest window is absolute, nearly solid, the Forest rustling quietly to itself. Harry's own breathing speeds up as his hand flies over Malfoy's cock and his arm tightens involuntarily around Malfoy's flat stomach.

Within seconds, Malfoy is coming hard, cussing steadily and jerking uncontrollably, Harry looking over his shoulder as the spurts of come hit the wall, the sticky white fluid coating his fingers warmly and dripping lazily off his wrist. Harry lets out a soft moan through clenched teeth, trying his hardest to get his own hips to stop bucking. He doesn't know what's worse – that he's thrusting his hard-on against Malfoy's bare arse or that he was seconds away from actually coming in his pants against Malfoy's bare arse.

He leaves Malfoy there in the semi darkness, with his pale forehead pressed against the wall, thin shoulders rising and falling rapidly as he pants, and before he knows it, he's running through the sleeping castle, not stopping until he reaches the Gryffindor common room. When his quick survey of the room reveals he's alone, he pulls out his cock, and brings himself off, leaning against the wall with one hand, the dying embers spitting in the grate behind him. When his orgasm hits, he is brought to his knees with the sheer force of it.