: Hell Bent and Heaven BoundAuthor
: None that I can think ofKinks chosen
: Outdoor sex, BondageWord Count
: Harry corners Draco in the Forbidden Forest and finds that revenge is very sweet. Author's notes
: Thanks so much to my betas, browneydweasley
Harry had a terrible headache. His temples were throbbing in time with the thudding of his footsteps and the pounding of his heart as he ran full pelt through the forest. It wasn't one of those
headaches – the kind he'd had while Voldemort was still alive – but, rather, the result of three days of stress and dehydration after staking out Draco Malfoy in the Forbidden Forest.
The taste of humiliation that lingered in Harry's mouth after his last meeting with Malfoy had never quite left him. Harry had managed, after some desperate and aggressive discussion, to convince Moody to keep the details of the way he'd found him between the two of them. Harry would have lost the respect of the entire Department of Magical Law Enforcement if they had known that Moody had discovered Harry half-naked and tied to a tree in the Forbidden Forest after his last encounter with Malfoy.
With that in mind, Harry was not about to let Malfoy get away this time. He'd spent long nights at the Ministry, pouring over Malfoy's files, Owling any contacts who may have had information, interviewing any Death Eater who'd had contact with Malfoy within the last year. He had spent many weekends prowling through the Forbidden Forest, searching for signs of Malfoy. Tonks had mentioned that Harry was, perhaps, a bit overly dedicated to this one case. She insinuated that it was possible that Harry was actually letting other work responsibilities slide in his fervour to catch Malfoy, that he might, in fact, be alienating most of his co-workers by snapping and shouting at them anytime the subject of Draco Malfoy came up at the office. Harry didn't care. There had only been one other time in his life when he'd been so completely determined to complete a task, and everyone knew how that had turned out. They all owed their lives to him and they should all just shut up and let him get on with it.
Finally, it happened – Moody announced that they'd received information indicating that Malfoy had once again been spotted in the Forbidden Forest. The simple, arrogant, bloody cheek of it made Harry's face grow red and hot. He knew Malfoy was assuming that Harry would immediately come after him, as if he was a puppy to be summoned. Harry felt the muscles of his jaw begin to ache as he ground his molars against each other, but Moody was giving him that, "You're looking at bit psychotic at the moment, maybe we'd better send someone else, remember what happened last time," look and Harry was damned if he'd let Tonks or Kingsley bring Malfoy in after all this time.
Harry had shot up out of his chair and said, "I'm on it," before immediately Apparating directly out of the office and into Hogsmeade. The suddenness of his journey left him feeling sick and dizzy, but he didn't care. He was going to find Malfoy again. That's all that mattered.
Three days later -- three days of camping out, sucking morning dew off leaves and eating unsatisfying Transfigured food -- Harry was feeling significantly less elated. Maybe the information had been wrong. Maybe Malfoy wasn't there. Harry's body ached from cold and sleeping on the hard ground. He knew he should just go back and start again, but he didn't. The idea of returning to work empty handed, without having encountered Malfoy, made his chest contract and his eyes sting.
He wandered through the Forest, listening intently for any human sound, examining the earth for shoeprints. He was stooped down, examining an oddly shaped mushroom, when something light but prickly smacked into the back of his head. Harry shot up, looked around and saw Malfoy, standing several yards away, smirking wickedly as he shot another pinecone at Harry's head.
Harry ducked, and Malfoy ran.
As Harry sprinted after him, he felt his face break into a grin.
Malfoy's bright head and dark robes were unmistakeable as they flashed through the trees ahead of Harry. Harry swore and increased his speed. He wouldn't let Malfoy get away this time. He wouldn't be made a fool of again. He forced himself to speed up, feeding off of the burn in his thighs and calves and the adrenaline coursing through his body.
Crashing through brambles and careening off of trees in his haste, he felt hot and hungry in a place much deeper than his stomach. He leapt in the air, barely avoiding a fallen tree trunk that seemed to have suddenly appeared in his path, and was unable to regain his balance. He fell forwards and landed splayed on his stomach, feeling dirt and twigs assault his mouth and eyes. Cursing violently, he pushed himself up and hurtled forwards, resuming the chase.
He thought… he swore he could hear Malfoy's high-pitched laugh floating back through the trees. The pounding in his head worsened as the sound of the laughter grew louder. He momentarily lost sight of Malfoy and felt electric panic sprout through his abdomen.
He hurriedly forced his way through a prickly thicket of young boughs and scrambled over a pile of jagged rocks that tore at his jeans and knees. As he launched himself off the pile of rocks, he saw that Malfoy was standing, perfectly still, less than two yards before him. Harry tried to get his brain to make his legs stop moving, but it was too late and he ended up spinning around and falling flat on his arse, sending up a small cloud of dust as he hit the ground. Fucking, bloody shit.
He knew his face was red, sweaty and streaked with dirt. He knew his hair was similarly filthy and clinging to his face and neck. He didn't like to wonder if he knew why his first thought was about his appearance at a time like this.
Malfoy was breathing heavily, his face flushed and bright. His hair was askew, his black robes tattered and muddy. There were shadows under his flashing grey eyes, yet, to Harry's vexation, he looked self-assured and almost…happy. That pale, pointy face made his pulse start racing just as easily now, as it did when he'd been a schoolboy. He'd faced and survived unfathomable peril, defeated Voldemort and saved the Wizarding World, yet this one blond twenty-two-year-old former Death Eater left his head spinning and his heart pounding to the point where he could barely think.
Harry looked up at Malfoy, watching him take in Harry's appearance. He waited for the inevitable smirk and felt his hands clench into fists once it appeared on Malfoy's face.
"You do look an absolute mess, Potter," said Malfoy, cocking his head to one side. "I have to say, however, it's quite flattering to see how much effort you're putting into the chase. If I were a different sort of person, I might almost feel guilty."
Harry sneered and got to his feet, keeping his eyes locked on Malfoy's. It wouldn't pay to let his guard down for a second.
"Don't feel guilty on my account, Malfoy. If anything, feel guilty on account of that family of Muggles you Obliviated last June."
"I needed a place to stay, and they just wouldn't shut up. I did warn them. One has to support oneself. One has to remain alive. It's not as if I could stroll down Diagon Alley and ask for a job as a shop clerk, now, is it?"
Harry swallowed and lifted his wand. "I'm not interested in your excuses. Drop your wand on the ground and hold your wrists out in front of you."
Malfoy smiled in a way that made Harry force himself not to shiver. "Are you going to tie me up, Harry? Developed a taste for that kind of thing now, have you? I hope you won't mind if I take credit."
"Be QUIET!" shouted Harry and shot a stupefying hex at Malfoy.
Malfoy stood still and watched it fly past his shoulder. He looked back at Harry with one eyebrow raised.
Then he vanished – just like that. He hadn't spun and there had been no "crack" to indicate Apparition; Malfoy was just gone.
Harry froze, his mouth open, and then shouted in frustration, throwing his wand to the ground. His head was still pounding and his skin felt hot and itchy with sweat.
He knelt and quickly retrieved his wand. He stood, felt hot breath against his cheek and then the distinct sensation of teeth biting into his neck. Harry shrieked and swung blindly at the air next to him.
Malfoy reappeared, laughing and running towards the thicket, and he might have gotten away again
if he hadn't kept his eyes on Harry and thus missed the felled tree in his path.
He tripped and sprawled face first over the thick log; Harry was instantly on top of him. Malfoy bucked and thrashed beneath him but, somehow, Harry was able to Encarcerate Malfoy's wrists together above his head.
With an enormous heave, Malfoy finally shoved Harry off his back. Harry's wand was out and ready, however, and he took particular pleasure in casting Wingardium Leviosa and, thus, making Malfoy rise helplessly into the air in front of him. He manipulated Malfoy backwards and delicately hung him by his wrists over a study looking branch a few feet away.
Catching his breath and wiping the mingled dirt, sweat and pine cone sap off his face with the back of his hand, Harry examined Malfoy, considering his options. Malfoy's arms were stretched sharply upwards; he was barely able to touch the ground. His stretched form trembled as he strained between the pain of supporting his weight on the balls of his feet and preventing himself from hanging by his wrists. His waistcoat was pulled up, exposing his pale stomach and navel, which was brushed with the palest, downy looking hair.
Harry's heart didn't slow, but actually sped up as he looked at Malfoy's bright grey eyes and the pink spots of colour on his cheeks. Malfoy squirmed in his bindings, first raising himself up on his toes, then relaxing but wincing at the pain this caused in his wrists.
Harry was unable to prevent the memories from flooding his mind – the feel of Malfoy's mouth on his cock, the taste of Malfoy's come in his mouth. He felt his ability to reason melt swiftly away.
Finally, Malfoy snorted impatiently, and pulled Harry out of his thrall.
"Well?!? Are you just going to stand there staring, Potter? Or are you going to actually do something?"
Harry was well aware of the fact that he was lying through his teeth as he replied, "I have no idea what you mean."
"Oh, I think you do."
Malfoy pushed his hips forwards towards Harry. His arousal was obvious, and Harry heard himself gasp lightly.
Laughing, Malfoy continued, "Merlin, get on with it already."
Harry licked his lips. "I'm not gay, you know."
Malfoy laughed again. "I have no interest in your sexual identity crisis. Just suck me off or fuck me or do whatever it is you've been dreaming of doing for the last ten years in your twisted, repressed little Gryffindor mind."
Harry's cock was throbbing painfully inside his jeans. He wanted nothing more than to sink his teeth and fingers into Malfoy's pale, pretty skin and to rub himself vigorously against his bound, slender body, yet, somehow, he felt unable to act.
"Potter!" snapped Malfoy. He was beginning to look truly irritated. His eyes were flashing and his lips were curled back from his teeth. His face was growing increasingly pink and his white blond hair was hanging in his eyes.
Something internal snapped. Harry leapt forth and threw himself onto Malfoy, smashing their mouths together. He felt, rather than heard, Malfoy's surprised, "Oh!" as he kissed him. He shoved his tongue between Malfoy's clean, sweet tasting lips, and pulled him closer as the force of his leap made Malfoy swing momentarily away.
Harry had never consciously intended to kiss
Malfoy, and was pretty sure it had been a terrible mistake, but it felt so good he couldn't stop. Anyway, Malfoy was kissing him back with quick shallow kisses and flicking his tongue against Harry's lips. Malfoy pulled at Harry's lower lip with his teeth and Harry trembled against him.
This was insane. Beneath the frantic and overwhelming lust that had suddenly consumed him, in the back of Harry's head, a little voice was screaming hysterically. What the bloody hell do you think you're doing?!? You're kissing Malfoy! On his lips! You should be slicing him up into little tiny pieces for what he did to you last time, not tearing open his robes and shoving down his trousers!
The old, familiar monster in his chest leapt on the little voice and swallowed it whole.
Malfoy's body felt slight and lithe in Harry's arms, soft and yielding apart from the hard bulge at his groin. After exposing Malfoy's chest, Harry bit and sucked at his skin as Malfoy's moans and sighs made him feel increasingly desperate.
Pushing Malfoy's black, velvet trousers and silk pants down around his ankles was extremely satisfying. Freeing his own cock from his jeans was more so. He crushed himself against Malfoy and began to rub himself against him, almost swooning at the sensation of the friction between their cocks.
Malfoy was twisting in Harry's arms. "Potter," he breathed, "Potter, you are going to fuck me, right? You're not just going to dry hump me like a school boy until you come, are you?"
Harry, once again, froze. He hadn't come anywhere close to mapping out a plan of action. Was
he going to fuck Malfoy? Could he actually go that far? He briefly imagined what it would feel like to be thrusting inside of Malfoy's body and found that the idea brought forth a violent, burning shiver.
His voice, when he found it, was deep and hoarse. "I am going to fuck you. I'm going to fuck you like you've never been fucked before."
"Yes," replied Malfoy, mildly. "Well, we’ll see about that."
Malfoy's taunt was just the thing to inspire enough rage to push the fear out of Harry's mind and get him acting. He knew that he had to lubricate himself, and did so. He then pushed his hand between Malfoy's thighs and let his fingers find his anus, tapping at it cautiously.
Malfoy shifted on his toes and muttered to himself. With a groan, he bent one leg and lifted it upwards, giving Harry better access. "Quick, Potter, quick."
Harry took his cock in his hand and carefully guided it into Malfoy, pressing forwards slowly until he felt something give way and was able to bury himself entirely in Malfoy's arse. They arranged themselves, awkwardly, until both of Malfoy's legs were wrapped around Harry's waist and Harry's fingers were digging into Malfoy's arse, holding him up.
Harry thrust forward experimentally. The position was tricky, but somehow it worked. He began to move, trying to be gentle until he remembered that he was fucking Malfoy
, and then began to pump into him in earnest.
Malfoy cried out and Harry glanced up. Malfoy's face was clenched in what looked like pain, but clearly wasn't. His eyes were tightly shut and his teeth bared in a grimace. He was breathing in and out sharply through his nostrils.
"Higher," Malfoy whispered in a tight voice. "Angle your cock higher."
Harry shifted the trajectory of his thrusts and heard Malfoy whine in frustration
"No, no, you're so blasted clumsy, just…" Suddenly, Malfoy threw his head back and let out a shrill cry. Harry felt him clench tightly around his cock and knew he's gotten it right. Malfoy's legs tightened around Harry's waist and Harry began to pump harder feeling the shivery pleasure increase as each thrust forced Malfoy to emit another shriek of pleasure. He was aware of Malfoy's cock bobbing against his stomach, and longed to take it in his hand, but couldn't release his grip on Malfoy's arse.
Malfoy was apparently speaking, albeit unintelligibly. "Ah… Pot... AH.. Mer…"
Harry felt his balls tighten and his body grow slightly numb as all sensation concentrated in his groin. He had lost control of his rhythm and was just thrusting madly, chasing his orgasm, digging his teeth into his lip when he heard Malfoy scream and felt a hot gush of liquid spurting onto his stomach.
"God, Draco…" he moaned and felt the pleasure overtake him as he came in a great, shuddering, white-hot spasm, which shook through his entire body. There was another spasm and another and, finally, he stood gasping, spent and dripping with sweat, his face buried in the crook between Malfoy's neck and shoulder.
Before he knew it, before he could stop himself, he was kissing Malfoy again, softly this time, tasting the sweat that had dripped onto his lips.
Malfoy laughed breathlessly and pulled his mouth away from Harry's. "Oh, Potter. Poor sweet Potter."
Harry immediately released his hold on Malfoy's body and jerked his cock out of Malfoy's arse. Malfoy shrieked as his body fell and his wrists were pulled viciously downwards against the ropes that bound them above the branch. Harry watched, scowling, as Malfoy twisted and scraped at the ground with his toes until he was able to gain his balance. He glowered at Harry and said, "Imbecile."
Malfoy's body was white and wet and his cock was still long, but softening quickly. The sight left Harry feeling both triumphant and strangely depressed. Harry searched his mind for the worst insult he could think of, but the best he could come up with was, "Whore!"
Malfoy smiled, catlike, and then threw his head back and laughed. Harry cursed and began pulling up his jeans and boxers and tucking himself back into them. He gave Malfoy his fiercest glare, turned his back on him and began to stomp away.
Malfoy's laughter stopped. "Potter…really. You can't leave me like this. There's no one to come and help me."
Harry turned to face him again and smiled nastily, "I'll send Moody an Owl. Tell him where he can find you. I'd hate for you to die or something."
Malfoy looked genuine frightened and…hurt, Harry thought. He kept his own expression from changing.
"You fool," said Malfoy, "he'll throw me straight into Azkaban."
Harry shrugged and tucked his wand into the back pocket of his jeans. As he resumed his departure, he heard Malfoy's feet scraping against the ground as he struggled.
"Potter, really, wait!"
"Goodbye, Malfoy." Harry strode quickly away, smirking to himself. He heard Malfoy yelling after him, his voice tinged with panic, but ignored what Malfoy was saying.
When he was about one hundred yards away he spun and saw Malfoy struggling fiercely against the ropes binding his wrists to the branch above his head. Grinning, he pointed his wand at the ropes. The spell flashed through the air, the ropes split, and Malfoy crashed to the earth in a heap.
Harry waited for maybe two seconds, just long enough for Malfoy to push himself up on his arms and meet Harry's eyes across the distance. Then Harry spun and Apparated back home to take a shower before he went back to work to admit that he'd let Draco Malfoy slip through his fingers once again.
Harry had no intention of ever letting Moody get his hands on Malfoy. It wouldn't do for Malfoy to be locked away in a cell in Azkaban. That
wouldn't do at all.