
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/7686163.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Harry_Potter_-_J._K._Rowling
  Relationship:
      Draco_Malfoy/Harry_Potter
  Character:
      Draco_Malfoy, Harry_Potter
  Additional Tags:
      Quickie, Facial
  Stats:
      Published: 2005-04-04 Words: 532
****** Two hundred thirty-two seconds ******
by cjmarlowe
Summary
     In the four minutes before the class arrives
Notes
     For Blythely's "one shot come shot" challenge on LJ.
Four minutes.
Harry's elbow bumped an overfull cabinet when he stumbled back against the
wall. He tensed up as the glass jars rattled, turning his head slowly to stare
at a dozen newt eyes swimming in brine.
"Honestly, Potter, do you want to be found out?"
Beside him, a cabinet of Snape's classroom stores. In front of him, Draco on
his knees. He did not have to think about what to look at. Long, pale hands
reached for his ankles, pushed his robe up over non-uniform boots and muscled
calves and knobby knees and thighs that shook every so slightly.
"God. Hurry," he said.
Draco pinched his hip and swallowed his cock.
Three minutes.
Draco held his arms rigid over his head, clutching Harry's robes in tight fists
and keeping them out of his way while his mouth moved all over, Harry's inner
thigh, his balls, the base of his cock, licking the head and swallowing down
and tonguing up the inside again.
Harry didn't think to take hold of the robes until Draco's arms shook, and even
then he only used one hand, letting the other fall to Draco's head, his fingers
tangling in, clutching at, the soft, fine hair.
He'd seen this in a filthy painting once, a woman holding her skirts up around
her waist while a man sat between her thighs, pleasuring her. He wondered, if
he let his robes fall, would a hidden Draco be able to carry on for the full
hour?
As if Harry could even imagine he could last.
Two minutes.
"Come, damn you, we've got a lesson," muttered Draco, and wormed a pair of
fingers in behind Harry's balls as he sucked him down again. That mouth, that
tongue, that hand. Impossibly wet and hard and swift.
Harry panted and gulped and hit the wall twice with the back of his head and he
was sure if Draco wanted him to come all he would have to do was keep doing
what he was doing for another three... two...
One minute.
"Aw, fuck," moaned Harry as Draco pulled his mouth off again, breathing cool
air over him. And kept it off, two fingers all but pressed into Harry's
backside, the other hand curling around the base of his cock and slick and
tugging. "Aw, fuck!"
He spurted on Draco's lower lip, his cheek, his chin, the slight curve of his
jaw, as Draco tilted his head back and looked positively blissful.
Harry stared and stared and finally tugged on Draco's hair, tugged up, tugged
closer, till Draco was on his feet and pressed up tight. "Fucking brilliant,"
he said, and licked that jaw, that chin, that cheek. Held him close and licked
him clean until nearly every drop was gone.
The door creaked and laughter sounded from up the hall. Harry dropped his robes
to his feet again and brushed away the suspicious wrinkles as though it would
make a difference.
Draco nipped his ear and stepped away. "... and if you think that's going to
frighten me, Potter, you're as witless as the Headmaster."
As Theodore Nott walked past them into the room, Draco swiped his tongue around
the corner of his mouth.
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