Undefined

Chapter 2

The Star of Slytherin

Draco received his first kiss by twelve and had slept with a girl by fourteen. He found it easy to get girls into bed; all he had to do was pinpoint their weakness and exploit it. For some girls, it was flattery, others coercion bordering on force. He liked the girls best he had to work on getting into bed, and grew bored with the ones who willingly stripped down. Worst were the girls who pined over him, especially girls like Pansy Parkinson. Parkinson was, Draco decided, almost a breed in and of herself; he could always count on her to give in to one of his impromptu trysts or suck him off at a moment's notice, and no matter how many times he replaced her with another girl, she always willingly returned to Draco whenever the whim struck him.

He found his newest conquest in Shannon O'Rourke, a small honey blonde, who, to Draco's delight, gave much better head than Pansy. Despite her willingness to perform the act, it took him weeks to get her into bed. Once he'd succeeded in convincing her the time was right to shag him, she sat uncomfortably on his bed, gripping her robes tightly. It took a long time to convince her to strip, and he had to more or less pull her clothes off. Her awkwardness and discomfort melted as soon as he slid his hands over her breasts and between her thighs. No girl protested after that; he was, in essence, too experienced for his own good. Shannon pulled him on top of her, and he smiled at his conquest. He slid inside of her, all the way, and she gasped, begging him to go faster and pound harder, finally tugging at the bed sheets and demanding he pull her hair when she climaxed. Afterwards, when they both lay in a post coital haze, she attempted to wrap her arms around him, but he pushed her away.

"I don't do that shit," he said casually.

She gathered her clothes and left, looking at him with smeared eyeliner and tussled hair. They kept that up for a few months, until Draco grew tired of her and found another Slytherin slut (as he called them) to fuck. That was his first rule; he never touched a girl from another house even if she was a pure-blood. Only a Slytherin was worthy of his time, and the girls in his house were quite keen on this.

Despite his success with the female sex, Draco felt a restlessness stir within him that he didn't know how to quench. It was when he wandered into the fourth floor lavatory and saw a Hufflepuff boy on his knees sucking off a Gryffindor that it finally clicked; that was an option he'd never entertained. Not seriously. In his upbringing, the word had never been uttered, but its implications were clear enough. To act that way was below animalistic, and certainly below fucking a Muggle. Draco blinked, staring at the scene before him, the stir in his chest rising with the Gryffindor's moans. Draco continued to stare, allowing the boy to climax before pulling out his wand and hexing the pair of them. He smiled as they ran from the lavatory, the Gryffindor cursing as he shoved his pants onto his waist.

The scene remained etched in Draco's mind for the next few weeks. Whenever he saw the two boys he mocked them viciously and without restraint, but inwardly he felt a sense of erotic curiosity. He could not deny how the scene captivated him, or how it would often enter his mind at odd moments. What he could deny, and what he did in fact deny profusely, was his desire to perform the very same act. Despite his automatic and unconscious revulsion regarding such matters, he could not deny the growing ache in his stomach that signaled he wanted very much to know what it felt like to kneel on a hard stone floor and suck someone off, while simultaneously wanting someone else to do the same to him. This finally came to full fruition one night as he and Blaise Zabini sat alone in the common room, working on a Transfiguration essay.

"This is bollocks," Blaise said rubbing his eyes and stifling a yawn. "If we had to do this for Snape, we would've been done hours ago!"

Draco grunted something incoherent as he scribbled on his parchment.

"I heard you and Parkinson last night," Blaise said stretching back in his chair. "She's a nice piece of ass."

Draco shrugged. "She can suck dick."

"Girls don't do that enough," he said scooting his seat back from the table and spreading his legs. "They're bitches about it."

"I never have trouble," said Draco truthfully.

"No, well, you wouldn't, would you? Girls wet their knickers just at the thought of shagging you."

Draco raised an eyebrow and shrugged, not arguing the point.

"What I would give for a blowjob right now," Blaise said casually.

Draco grimaced. "Shut the fuck up, Zabini! I don't want to hear that shit."

"I'm just talking!" said Blaise defensively. "I'm not asking you for one."

Draco was on his feet instantly. Blaise looked up at him annoyed.

"Oh Christ, Malfoy! Sit down!"

"You're one of them aren't you?" said Draco quietly, his insides withering in excruciating excitement.

"What the fuck are you on about?" said Blaise sitting up.

"You're a ponce!"

Blaise threw his head back and laughed derisively. "Get off it! I was just thinking out loud for fuck's sake!"

Draco grabbed Blaise by the collar and pulled him to his feet, Draco's face inches from Blaise's.

"Get....off.....me!" Blaise demanded fighting to free himself from Draco's grip. Draco didn't relent and pushed him to the ground, holding Blaise down with his own weight.

"You're disgusting! You're one of them!" Draco said, suddenly aware of how sensual Blaise's warm body felt under his own. "Say it!"

Draco closed his eyes and nearly moaned audibly as Blaise jerked and rubbed hard against Draco; the feeling of arousal was so intense he'd never felt anything like it before. Both stopped and looked at one another. Draco's grip slackened and without any forethought he crushed his lips against Blaise's. It was different from a girl's mouth he noticed immediately; it was different in taste and texture, and it moved less smooth and soft. Blaise shoved Draco away and sat up looking at him in disbelief.

"What?" he said, and in that one word Draco knew Blaise was not rejecting him, but accepting him, willingly and eagerly.

"Shut up," said Draco pulling Blaise to him, crushing his mouth with his own and enjoying the feel of his body more than any girl he'd lain with. And there, on the floor of the Slytherin common room, they both undressed and Draco went down on Blaise, finally fulfilling an ache that had been there for weeks. Or had it been longer? Had he always felt this way, but too afraid or too oblivious to the fact to let it grow? He felt as though the seed had been planted long ago, but that it had never been fully tended to or cared for, and as such had remained in the ground, unbidden. But now, as Draco thrust himself hard into Blaise's mouth and ran his hands over the boy's chocolate skin, he felt as though a stream of water were hitting the seed and it was growing, growing, finally flowering and bursting to full fruition. Draco felt sweat drip down his face and back, and squeezed the edge of the chair as he climaxed. He pulled Blaise to him and they lay panting, the firelight casting long shadows over their smooth bodies.

The following day, Draco and Blaise greeted each other coolly at breakfast, and Draco casually buttered his toast, listening idly as Pansy sat next to him and ruminated on her homework from the night before. Two tables over, Draco noticed Harry staring at him with a knowing look. Draco clenched his fist and threw Harry a burn-in-hell look before turning away. Still, something in that look was unnerving. It was almost as though Harry knew.

In Care of Magical Creatures, Harry shot Draco filthy looks, and Draco silently egged Harry on, as though daring him to say something. But Harry didn't respond, and Draco felt rather disappointed as he always enjoyed getting a rise out of Harry. After class, Draco gathered his things and went to walk back to the castle but Harry cornered him near a thicket of trees.

"I know it was you," said Harry in a threatening tone. Draco couldn't remember Harry ever having done anything so singularly stupid. He noticed Crabbe and Goyle approach a few feet away. Draco jerked his head, indicating they were to stay put, wanting to settle this himself.

"Go on then," said Draco crossing his arms. "I can't wait to hear what story you've cooked up ..." Harry's fist collided with the side of Draco's face before he could finish. He reeled back, looking at Harry stupidly.

"DON'T LIE TO ME!"

Draco reached for his wand but Harry merely laughed.

"Go on then!" he jeered. "Go on and do it, you stupid motherfucker!"

Draco stood motionless, looking at Harry in disbelief, almost admiring his display of rage and indignation. He lowered his hand slowly, still staring at Harry.

"I thought so," Harry spat. "You're nothing but a coward." He reached and pulled Draco towards him by the collar, pinning him against a tree.

"If you ever have that ruddy house-elf sell any more secrets about the Order again I'll kill you!"

Draco squirmed slightly beneath Harry's weight, feeling an electric shock of delight shoot up from his lower abdomen. Just as quickly, Harry released him and stomped off, leaving Draco behind to stare at him intrigued. He suddenly smiled slightly, a forbidden realization swimming to the surface of his mind.

"Potter," he muttered lowly and smiled. He then motioned for Crabbe and Goyle and walked casually back to the castle.