Cho Must Die a Horrible, Painful Death

Chapter Seven: Give and Take

**

For the first minute of the kiss, Harry struggled against Malfoy for the sole reason that this was *Malfoy*, and he was sure the boy was only fucking with his head. However, as Harry realized that the same boy had purposely disposed of his towel and was quite enthusiastically grinding his hips against his, he relaxed. He might as well enjoy it while it lasted.

Harry's hips met Malfoy's thrust for thrust, and Malfoy grinned against Harry's lips. He broke from their frantic kissing to smirk into Harry's eyes and lick his mouth. Harry opened his mouth in shock. He immediately fell back into a dazed silence when he felt Malfoy take Harry into his right hand.

Malfoy pressed his lips against Harry's mouth as he began moving his hand in an up and down motion. Instinctively, Harry moaned and grabbed Malfoy to pull him closer.

Before he knew it, though, Malfoy had pulled away from him, and was standing three feet away with his hands on his hips. He glared at Harry.

"Jesus fucking Christ, Potter!" Draco seethed. "We've fucking done this before, haven't we, you prat. I've *heard* that moan, and it wasn't in any wet dream."

For a moment, Harry was confused. Of course he'd heard him moan like that - the little perverted voyeur had obviously observed Harry's little wank- fest. What was Malfoy playing at?

"What are you going on about, Malfoy? You're the one who just sexually molested me, I'd hardly call that a dream."

"No, you bloody twit," Draco stamped his foot, "I'm talking about kissing you in the Charms classroom. I *knew* something was fucking weird when I suddenly found myself there alone. Didn't show up, ha!" he scoffed. "What did you fucking do to me, Potter?"

"I.. I," Harry hesitated, "I didn't do anything, Malfoy. There's obviously something wrong with you; you're hallucinating."
"Oh, yes," Malfoy sneered, "I'm just imagining you screaming my name as you wank off not to mention the fact that you're standing here, naked, standing at attention. *I'm* delusional."

Harry didn't say anything, he simply peered down at his very exposed figure and searched for his towel. Where the hell had it got to? Ah, hell - Harry resorted to simply covering (rather poorly) his engorged flesh with his hands.

"I'm bloody warning you, Potter," Malfoy continued, "if you don't tell me what the hell you did to give me nightmares for two fucking weeks, I'll Avada Kedavra your arse right here and now."

Draco tapped his foot impatiently and glared at Harry. Harry wondered how the hell Draco could possibly remember, among other things. Well, the jig was up, so he might as well come clean. It's not like it could get any worse; after all, Malfoy had just witnessed him masturbating whilst shouting his name.

"I used a memory charm," Harry mumbled, refusing to look Malfoy in the eyes.

"And, why, might I ask, did you feel the need to use a fucking Memory Charm on me?" Draco demanded.

"I didn't want you to have something else to use against me."

"And what, pray tell, would that something else be? I'm still not exactly clear on the details." Draco shifted his weight as he rubbed his temples, grimacing. "You're rubbish at Memory Charms, Potter. I feel like someone inserted a teaspoon into my ear and swirled it about in my brain."

"I kissed you," Harry offered, quickly.

"You kissed me? Why the fuck would you do that?" Malfoy screwed up his face indignantly and dropped his fists to his side. "I fucking hate you!"

"I know! It's just that I, I. I wanted to. Okay? Just forget about it," Harry rambled, wishing this conversation would end right now.

"That's a little bloody hard, Potter, as I did a crap job at forgetting it the first time," Malfoy sneered. He stepped back a foot and shook his head, obviously thinking something over. "And here I was, thinking I had the hots for you. No, it was just my fucking subconscious memory wheedling its way back into my brain. The bloody nerve of you, Potter! You. violated me!"

"Oh, please, Malfoy!" Harry rolled his eyes. Malfoy was such a drama queen. "You make it sound like I raped you or something."

"Pretty damn close, Potter. You performed a dangerous Memory Charm that could have caused permanent damage."

For a moment, Malfoy's ranting reminded Harry of Hermione, but he didn't think brining up that point would help Draco's mood any.

Draco continued his rant, "It's sick. Where are your fucking ethics, Potter?"

"You want to talk ethics?" Harry spat incredulously. "Whose father supports Lord bloody Voldemort?"

"I am not my fucking father, Potter. Contrary to what you seem to think," he laughed half-heartedly. "Though, if you had it your way, you'd use my body and then fuck my mind over on a regular basis. You're sick, Potter. Really, truly sick."

"Me!?!?! You're the fucking voyeur! Invading my privacy and then having the gall to attack me with a hand job."

"Oh, you wanted it, Potter. You know you do," Draco drawled, knowing he had power over Harry.

"Shut up, Malfoy," Harry said through clenched teeth.

"Hit a nerve, did I?" A sly grin flicked across Malfoy's face. "Ickle-hero- Potter fancies *boys*. Fancies me." He looked very pleased with himself.

"I do *not* fancy you, Malfoy."

"Yes, and you normally scream the name of people you don't fancy when you come." Draco knew he had him.

"Fuck off, Malfoy," Harry directed.

"Fine," he grinned saucily and came at Harry again, this time going for Harry's body first and his mouth second.

Oh dear God. Why did he have to be so good at that? Harry panted into Draco's mouth, the increasing stimulation of arguing and physical contact giving Harry a slight high feeling. Draco had amazing coordination, and paid equally fervent attention to both Harry's mouth and to his form.

Draco worked his hand up and down Harry's length as he jetted his tongue in and out of his mouth. Harry grabbed Draco's arse and pulled him closer. He gasped in protest when Malfoy tore his mouth away, but was again sated when he put it back to work nibbling and sucking his neck and shoulders.

Harry screwed his eyes shut and threw his head back, the swirl of anger and passion over taking his senses.

"God, you're such a desperate little wanker, Potter," Malfoy mumbled against the crook of Harry's neck.

"Ugh!" Harry cried out as he pulled away from Malfoy, the moment lost. He stared aghast at Malfoy, whose expression was half sneering and half asking Potter why he'd ruined their fun.
"Wait a second," Harry panted as he struggled to catch his breath, "why are we bloody talking about *me* when you obviously fancy me as well."

"Please, Potter, don't flatter yourself."

"No!" Harry continued, stomping his foot and grabbing for a towel. "You said that you thought you fancied me, but it was just your memory. And you clearly have no objection to wanking me off, so I'd say you're the one with the issue."

"No, no, no, Potter," Malfoy contradicted. "I only got my rocks off on you because your bloody memory kept popping up in my head. This is clearly one- sided infatuation."

"One-sided? You just admitted that you wanked over me," Harry stated in annoyance. Malfoy had a tendency to ignore logic when it wasn't in his favor. "And it's not like anyone was forcing you to enjoy the memory. You could have just as easily freaked out and gone crazy or something. But if you recall, you did kiss me back."

"Well you weren't doing very well, were you? I had to show you how a real man kisses. And even if I did kiss back, why the fuck did you feel the need to use a memory charm?"

"I panicked." Harry blushed and looked anywhere but at Draco.

"This is the boy who's supposed to save us all? The wizarding world is doomed," Malfoy muttered sarcastically.

"Oh, like you care Malfoy," Harry retorted hotly. "If I lose, your precious Voldemort will kill all of Mugglekind, which I'm sure will please you greatly."

"Jesus Christ Potter, you can be a real prejudiced arsehole sometimes, you know that? You assume that just because I'm in Slytherin that I'm hell bent on taking over the world and killing all the Muggles? You're a fucking idiot if you think that."

"No, Malfoy, I think that because it's true," Harry returned hotly. "You're practically the poster child for Voldemort's war. You spout racial slurs every other word - you've certainly never hesitated to call Hermione 'Mudblood' and wish her dead - you go on about the superiority of blood, and you're father's a fucking Death Eater! And, what? I'm just jumping to conclusions?"

"For your fucking information, Potter, I do NOT follow the Dark Lord. Just because my father drools after the delusional psycho, doesn't mean that I do. I happen to believe in the superiority of blood, thank you. And I call Granger a Mudblood because it's too fucking funny to see the three of you get all out of sorts. Weasel turns ridiculously red, Granger looks torn between rage and tears, and you look like you want to fuck me seven ways to Sunday. What can I say," Draco grinned, "I'm easily amused."
"What?!?!" Harry exclaimed, his eyes wide, "I do NOT look like I want to fuck you, Malfoy. If that's what you think 'I want to kill your sorry arse' looks like, no wonder you're so hot to trot. You must think the entire school wants to fuck you."

"They do."

"Get over yourself, Malfoy."

"What? They do - I've shagged half of them, I should know."

"What?!?!"

"Don't look so shocked, Potter. Everyone wants a piece of me, even you. And who am I to deny anyone the pleasure of my company?"

Harry stared at him, wide eyed. What was he implying, exactly?

"I never thought I'd say this, but please do put your glasses back on. You look like a deer caught in headlights. It's very unbecoming."

Harry blinked and scowled. "Bastard."

"Excellent comeback. Very witty," Draco broke into a grin. "So, how do you want it? Here, my place, yours - from the front, from the back - hard, soft? I'm very open and *very* flexible."

Harry's mouth dropped. "You can't possibly mean." He trailed off. "Ugh! Malfoy, you're such a pervert!"

"What? You don't want to fuck me? That wasn't the impression I got earlier." Draco screwed up his features in mock-ecstasy and began to moan, "Oh, Draco. Like *that* Draco. Fuck me, Draco!" He sniggered. "You're gagging for it Potter," Draco paused, considering his word choice. "You know, I could arrange that, too. I'm a lot to take, so gagging would probably be involved."

Harry swallowed hard and scolded himself as he noticed his sweaty palms, quickened breath, and responding body. He tried to cover up his arousal with a biting comment. "Oh, please, Malfoy. Like *that* would happen. I would never be your bitch. You'd be the one gagging."

Jesus Christ, had he just said that?

Malfoy looked equally surprised. "Well, well, well - naughty Potter. But I don't think so. I would never take it; I only give. And like you could ever *really* play like that. You don't have the balls."

"Oh yes I bloody well do!"
"Prove it."

"Fine, I will!" Harry took the initiative and lunged at Draco, sealing their mouths in a kiss so searing it took his own breath away.

Malfoy tasted of sweat and candy, like he'd been sucking on some sweets earlier. He must enjoy sucking on things, Harry thought idly.

Pushing the imagery of Malfoy sucking things out of his head, Harry increased his fervor and allowed his hands to wander Malfoy's lithe frame. Malfoy responded in kind, first cupping his hands on Harry's arse and then grasping in turn, eliciting a moan from Harry. The towel draped round Harry's waist slipped again, and fell to the floor.

Why was he always the naked one? He decided to even out the playing field and divest Malfoy of his form-fitting Quidditch trousers. The coarse fabric irritated his fingertips as he searched for the button and fly; doing this from the opposite direction was very odd. Well, at least Malfoy had already removed his shin-guards, there was an obstacle gone.

He could already feel Malfoy pressing through the rough material and Malfoy sighed against Harry's jawline as he undid the zipper, his warm breath dancing across the Gryffindor's skin and tickling his earlobe.

Funny that Malfoy's breath (and mouth) could be so hot, Harry mused as he rubbed his nose against the soft blond hair and pushed his trousers off his hips. He'd always seemed such a cold creature. But just as his breath was against Harry's ear and his tongue had been in his mouth, Harry found warmth wherever his fingertips ventured. Currently, Harry was more than aware that Draco was a hot-blooded creature.

Harry couldn't help but grin at Draco's audacity - he wasn't wearing any underwear.

"Gosh, Malfoy," Harry nipped at the other boy's earlobe; curled his fingers around the other boy's erection and squeezed a little harder than necessary, "do you usually go commando, or only during Quidditch games?"

Draco gasped at both the break in silence and the sensation of Harry's rough grasp.

"Fuck you, Potter."

"Hmmm," Harry murmured as he began experimenting with touching Malfoy. This really wasn't as complicated as he had thought. It was just reverse masturbation - he just had to run everything in the opposite direction. Malfoy was apparently pleased, as he began to buck his hips against Harry's hand in earnest.

Harry couldn't help but grin. "I don't know, Malfoy," he mused, slowing down the rhythm a bit, "the other week you were clearly wearing boxers underneath your robes."
Draco dug his fingernails into Harry's backside in protest at his slowing down and bit at Harry's shoulder.

Harry jumped a bit as Malfoy's sharp teeth came into contact with his flesh, but regained his composure quickly. Instead of scolding the blond, he continued his lazy pace and teasingly ran his thumb over the tip of Malfoy's erection.

"It just seems very impractical to forgo underclothes in those trousers. I imagine there would be some chafing involved," Harry continued, pleased at Malfoy's growing frustration.

"Fuck Potter!" Malfoy's head whipped up and he straightened his posture. He glared at Harry, "Stop giving me cheek and get on with it, damn it!"

"I can hardly help it, Malfoy," Harry retorted, "you're such a lamb when I've got my hand on your dick - it's too easy to play around with you."

"Sadistic bastard," Draco gasped and pushed Harry back until his knees hit the edge of the bathtub. Back in the position of control, Draco straddled Harry's hips and kissed him roughly.

"Mmmmnnn," Harry muttered against his lips. Malfoy broke the kiss and began touching Harry again, ignoring his own wanting body.

"I like it when you play rough with me, Malfoy," Harry simpered.

"Potter!" Malfoy exclaimed, looking him in the eyes again. "A few fucking kisses and my hand around your dick and you turn into a kinky bastard. What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"What can I say?" Harry mused. He leaned forward and grabbed Malfoy's earlobe between his teeth and pulled gently. "You bring out the worst in me," he whispered huskily into Draco's ear.

He twisted their bodies around so Malfoy was on his back on the marble edge of the tub. He reversed the straddling position so he sat perched on top of Malfoy.

Suddenly Harry was glad for the Joy of Gay Sex book Hermione had dug up. The look of shock in Malfoy's eyes was priceless. Bet he didn't think Harry knew about any of this.

Harry leaned forward and ran his tongue from Draco's belly button up to his collarbone. He peered up at Malfoy as he did this, pleased at the arousal dancing in Draco's eyes, thinly veiled by anger. Protest as he did, Malfoy liked this. And Harry loved the control.

Once he had licked his way up to the other boy's jaw, he began to rock his hips against Draco's, stimulating friction between their inflamed bodies. Draco flung his head back and gasped. God, that was erotic. Harry lapped his tongue against Draco's pulse point as he increased his rhythm.
Pretty soon, Draco was meeting him with each thrust of his hips. Harry captured his mouth in a fevered kiss, their tongues dueling for control.

Moving from Draco's mouth to caress his jawline, Harry couldn't help but pant into Malfoy's ear, "For someone who vehemently declares himself a giver, you take it awfully well, Malfoy."

"Ugh!" Malfoy cried out, as he pushed Harry off him. The force of his action sent Harry rolling off Draco and into the tub with a splash.

Harry emerged a moment later, sputtering with his eyes wide in shock and frustration.

"I don't fucking think so, Potter," Draco spat, as he leapt up and grabbed for his clothes.

"What? Malfoy - where the fuck do you think you're going?" Harry protested, and rose from the water. Draco pulled his shirt over his head and hastily managed to get his trousers about half-way on.

"You're greatly mistaken if you think I'm going to be your bitch, Potter," Draco slipped his right foot into his boot. "So just fuck off, will you?" he managed the other foot.

Harry just stood there in the water, his mouth hanging open. He didn't have to say anything to ask Draco besides the question 'what the fuck am I supposed to do?'

"Oh - go wank off, Potter!" Malfoy spat as he neared the door, his arms full of his excess Quidditch wear. "You seem particularly skilled in that area, after all," he finished before climbing through the portrait hole.

End Chapter Seven