The Challenge

Draco Malfoy sneered at the Gryffindor who stood opposite him, listening as he boasted of his latest chess game win as they waited for the library to open for the day. In Draco's opinion, Ron Weasley beating Hermione Granger at chess was an easy feat. Just from the way the Mudblood was ogling at Weasley, Draco could tell that she was hot for the red-head.

However, Draco would give credit where credit was due - albeit, grudgingly. In the past year, Ron Weasley had become hot. The Gryffindor's dark red hair glinted in the torchlight, and his body was enough to give a Draco wet dreams every night.

Not that Draco particularly minded, since there was a lot of smacking (on Draco's part) and excited yelps of delight (on Weasley's part) occurring during those dreams. It was just highly inconvenient to wake up every morning to discover the lower half of his body was covered in his...release. His roommates, of course, had soon discovered that Draco had somewhat frequent wet dreams, and they had made several unimaginative and lewd comments to him.

Watching Weasley give another wave of his arm, Draco snorted. Weasley might be excessively hot, but once he opened his mouth...A good blowjob would shut the Weasel up Draco decided, elbowing his way past his fellow classmates to stand beside him.

"-swear she's getting better every year, but I still manage to thump her," the Weasel was saying to Harry Potter.

Draco snorted. No doubt that the Mudblood wanted to be thumped by the Weasel all right from the way she was looking at him.

"Weasley."

All three Gryffindors turned to glare at Draco.

"What do you want Malfoy?" Potter finally asked tiredly. Draco noted the bags under Potter's eyes with great satisfaction; however, the matching bags under Weasley's eyes...

Draco's sneer intensified. "You." Draco tipped his head towards the Weasel.

The Weasel turned bright red in indignation, evidently engineering some ridiculous insult from one word. Before he could sputter out anything, Draco said smoothly, "I have a proposition for you." Potter and the Mudblood instinctively stepped in front of their friend. Behind them, Weasel was fuming, his face going splotchy with anger. Draco felt himself getting hard. "Well?" Draco bit out, manoeuvring his bag strategically. "Finally lost your ability to speak?"

"What is it?"

"One game of chess." Draco shot Weasley a brittle smile. "You lose, you stop boasting about your piddling wins."

"They're not-!"

Draco shrugged carelessly, wanting to finish this quickly so he could relieve himself. "If you win, then you can do whatever you want with me. Do we have a deal?"

By now, all the students in the corridor were watching this quiet exchange with great interest. Hopefully, Draco thought, discreetly moving his bag again, they didn't notice his condition.

Weasley gave a jerky nod, still looking apoplectic. "When?"

"You arrange it," Draco said shortly. "I have other things that are more important."

Like getting rid of his enormous erection, Draco thought painfully as he marched away from Weasley.

***

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Hermione asked in a hushed voice. Her books lay in a forgotten stack beside her, and Ron shrugged.

"I've never lost a game," Ron replied, looking nonchalantly down at his notes. "Why give up the chance to have Malfoy in knots?"

Harry laughed softly. "He's got a point Hermione," he said, scrubbing one hand over his eyes. "Whatever you want to do to him? That's a chance in a lifetime."

Ron smiled weakly back at his best friend. What he'd like to do to Draco Malfoy and what he would do when he won, were two different matters. What he would like to do was strip the pair of them, and shag like wild things, with hopefully, several blow jobs thrown in for good measure. What he would do would probably be a lot less staid, and not help his fully erect member any time soon. Giving his erection a gentle rub, which only made his stomach tighten, Ron suddenly felt the need to get away from the library.

"Ron?" Hermione asked, as he stood.

"Uh...stomach ache," Ron said. It wasn't completely a lie, Ron thought, as he strode out of the library. His stomach was aching. It was just that the cause of it was slightly further down.

***

"Merlin's arse," Draco muttered, as he ran into someone. He'd just finished wallowing in one of his favourite Weasley sexual fantasies, and being rammed into was hardly going to help his current lack of balance.

Especially when that person happened to be Weasley himself, who looked like he was sporting a pretty big hard-on himself.

"Not getting enough action there Weasley?" Draco drawled.

The Weasel flushed bright red, just before Draco's hand brushed over him and the erection suddenly when limp. Draco smirked, as Weasley cursed, gripping Draco's arm in a hard grip.

"Or is it just that you want me?" Draco risked, whispering softly into the Gryffindor's ear.

Ron let out several strong curses, and Draco's half-mast eyes twinkled with amusement, before he let go of him.

"Have fun cleaning up Weasley," Draco said mock-casually, walking away. "Have fun."

***

Ron thumped his grandfather's chessboard in front of Draco five minutes later in a secluded corner of the library.

"We are having this out once and for all Malfoy," Ron snarled, setting up the chess pieces with vicious thumps that elicited several indignant yells from the chess pieces.

"Oh?" drawled out Draco calmly. In fact, Ron realised furiously, as he pulled out the chair opposite Draco, he seemed pretty damned pleased.

Ron smirked back at the Slytherin. "Damn straight Slytherin."

***

Time seemed immaterial once they started playing, and Ron realised sourly that Draco could actually hold his own in a game of chess. People had eventually gathered around the pair, but as dinnertime approached, only two people were left - Crabbe and Goyle, looking somewhat bereft without Draco. So absorbed was Ron in the game, that he didn't notice when Goyle picked up the black Queen and began rolling her between his meaty thumbs despite her protests.

"Check." Ron blinked down at the board, and glared at Malfoy's superior smirk. The white King turned to Ron.

"Well sonny-boy!" he yelled at Ron with his usual gusto. "Let's have at the git! Never lost a game with us, hope you aren't planning to now!" Ron felt his mouth quirk upwards at the white King's voice. The black King was staring at Ron, looking somewhat hurt.

"Are you saying that my side stinks?" he asked, looking hurt.

"It's nothing against you," snorted the white King.

"Oh, shag me," the black King muttered darkly.

"My pleasure. Just after those fellas are done, and you're annihilated," replied the white King. "And then we can play doctor - you show me yours, I'll show you mine, then the thorough examination."

Their Queens, having left the board had no opinion in the matter, but having never heard his chess pieces exchange sexual innuendoes was somewhat disturbing. His grandfather, as far as he knew, had never been quite so...kinky, and Ron knew for a fact that his grandfather had handcrafted each piece himself.

Draco seemed to be having the same thought himself. "Kinky, Weasley, very kinky," he murmured.

Goyle tapped the black Queen against his meaty hand uncomprehendingly.

"I didn't make them-" Ron began.

"But I must say, good advice."

Ron blinked. Had he heard correctly? He felt himself getting aroused for what felt like the hundredth time since they had begun playing. How chess had become so sexy was beyond Ron. He had the feeling it was the intense way in which Draco was looking at the board than anything else.

"Well boy! Let's go! I want to play doctor already!"

Ron stared at the King, the other chess pieces sniggering.

"I wouldn't mind if you hurried up either," Draco said wryly. From the way Crabbe and Goyle were gaping at Draco, Ron could confirm that he wasn't sound hallucinating. In fact, so surprised was Goyle, that the Queen in his hand snapped.

***

Draco watched in surprise as Ron launched himself over the table at Goyle as the Queen's death cries sounded in the quiet library. The chess pieces had fallen silent, as the black King blinked, and said, "Well, now I guess I can get kinky with Whitey over there."

"You bitch!" roared Ron, pummelling the puzzled Goyle.

Draco stood abruptly, hauling on the collar of Ron's robes, and nodded in dismissal at Crabbe and Goyle, who made a quick retreat. Ron continued to struggle in a highly arousing manner for the next couple of minutes, until Draco leaned over and gave him a hard, bruising kiss. Their lips meshed, and the sounds of the cheering chess pieces fell away, as Draco's slim hands buried themselves into Ron's soft golden-red hair. For a moment, Ron stood in shock, before his own arms came hard around Draco, and he began kissing back violently, their bodies flush up against one another. Finally, they both had to come up for breath, but neither of them let go of each other.

"Why," Draco finally managed to pant out, "did you call Goyle your bitch? You're not-"

"He destroyed my black Queen," Ron ground out, his forehead intimately touching Draco's. "It's not as if-"

"If what?" Draco smirked. "I'll get you a new one."

"What?" Ron let out a bitter laugh, moving away from Draco, or trying to. Draco's hands were still tangled in his hair. "You'll make one for me? I doubt that you or anyone could make up for this. My grandfather, if you haven't noticed Malfoy, is dead. That was all I had of him," he said, jerking his head at the chess set.

Draco untangled his hands from Ron's hair, smoothing his own blond hair down. "Not all." Draco said coolly, a small smile on his face.

"Excuse me?"

"He gave you me."

"Wha-"

Moving forwards, Draco gripped Ron's arm, pulling him close, and kissing him hard again. His hands moved down Ron's body, and under his robes, revelling in the way the Gryffindor's body flexed beneath his fingers. A moment later, the robe came off, and then the rest of Ron's clothes, as Draco slowly began tracing his mouth over Ron's body, placing wet kisses all over him. Ron's breathing hitched, his fingers gripping the table where they had just been playing chess, as Draco knelt down in front of him.

"Merlin," Ron swore.

"Merlin is right," Draco murmured, as Ron's hands wrapped around his blond hair, and tugged. Soon, Draco's clothes littered the carpet, and they were pushing against each other, holding each other, their free hand roving all other the other's body. Their mouths were rammed together to prevent either of them from letting out a scream that would give them away at any moment.

"Fuck." Draco swore when it was over. His blond hair lay in sweaty hanks as his bowed head rested on Ron's shoulders. Ron stroked his hair absently, sprawled naked on the chess table. "So." Draco hauled himself into straddling position. "Was I right?"

"What?" mumbled Ron.

"About your grandfather."

Ron peered at the broken chess pieces that now littered the floor from their promiscuous activities. "Yeah," muttered Ron. Pulling Draco down towards him, he kissed the Slytherin again. "Let's do it again, shall we?"

***