Title: How Much Do You Love Me Right Now?
Author: thusspakekate
Characters/Pairings: Harry/Pansy, Harry/Draco, Harry/Pansy/Draco
Rating: NC-17
Kinks/Themes Chosen: Happy Birthday DD!!!
Other Warnings: threesomes, sexual cunning and trickery, implied past use of polyjuice to deceive sexual partners
Word Count: 4,700
Summary/Description: When Potter approaches Pansy, hinting that they've been recently intimate, she knows exactly who Potter actually slept with. Draco is lucky that she's such a good friend.
Author's Notes: This is a sequel to alisanne's wonderful Private Practice. I highly suggest you read it first, a) because it's awesome and b) because this fic will make a lot more sense. I'm just glad I'm not the only person who lives in a world where Pansy and Draco are BFFs with absolutely no sense of boundaries.



It was a warm, spring afternoon, and all Pansy Parkinson wanted to do was read the latest book in the Bloodsuckers series and enjoy her scone on the patio of Diagon Alley’s newest coffeeshop. She was having enough trouble concentrating on the doomed love triangle between the gorgeous vampress Arabella and her two human lovers, Reginald and Ronaldo (who, the story had just revealed, were actually long lost brothers), without Harry Potter, sitting two tables over, trying to get her attention.

After nearly ten minutes of ignoring his indiscreet pssting and even louder, Hey, Parkinson!s, Pansy finally snapped. She whirled in her seat and glared at him. “What?!”

Potter looked momentarily abashed, then stood up and settled himself in the seat across from her. He leaned in and whispered, “We need to talk.”

Pansy closed her book and prayed for patience. It would not look good to her supervisors in the Auror Trainee Programme if she were arrested for striking a superior officer, not matter how annoying he may be. “About what?”

Potter tried to answer with a look, his eyes wide and green behind his glasses. Pansy mirrored his dumb expression and waited, blinking.

“About, you know,” Potter finally said. He leaned in even closer and dropped his voice. “About what happened last weekend. At The Leaky.” He sat back quickly, his face slightly red with embarrassment.

“Ah, yes,” Pansy said sagely, leaning back in her seat and tilting her head. She could feel a small smirk growing on her lips. “Last weekend.”

She wasn’t entirely certain what he was on about, but could make an educated guess. The Friday before, Draco had knocked on her door in the flat they shared and asked, casual as could be, if he might borrow a piece of her hair. She knew what he planned on doing with it: how else could a high-profile and deeply-closeted young man go trolling for cock without exposing himself? What kind of friend would she be if she denied him that?

It would have been nice, however, for a little warning that the Savior of the Wizarding World was going to think he’d fucked her.

“What about last weekend?” she asked. “Was I not to your satisfaction?”

“No!” Potter said quickly. “No, no, you definitely were. I was actually just… I was wondering if you might want to hang out again sometime? Maybe tonight?”

Pansy raised an eyebrow. What had Draco done to this boy? Or better yet, what had Draco let this boy do to her?
“By ‘hang out,’ do you really mean, ‘shag?’”

He looked away, clearly uncomfortable, and shrugged a shoulder. Pansy rolled her eyes, but took pity on him all the same. “Fine,” she said airily as she stood and collected her things. “Come to my flat tonight, around eight o’clock. We’ll ‘hang out’ again.”

She turned smartly on her heels and strode away, cursing internally when she realized she’d left her scone behind. Oh well, she didn’t need the carbs anyway. And besides, she had a busy evening to plan.

Draco was going to owe her majorly for this one.

*

When Pansy opened her door at 7:55 that evening, Potter was standing awkwardly in the hallway with a bottle of red wine in his hands.

“You shouldn’t have,” Pansy said as she ushered him inside and took the bottle from him. She read the label. “You really shouldn’t have.”

She left him in the living room while she went into the kitchen, tossed the wine he’d bought into the bin, and grabbed one of Draco’s Tuscan vintages from the rack on the counter. She poured two glasses, drank one of them, and then refilled it. Potter was sitting on the settee when she returned to the living room, drumming his fingers on his knees and looking around nervously. He jumped up when he saw her, and gratefully took the glass she offered.

“You’ll have to remind me,” Pansy began, lowering herself onto the settee Potter had just vacated. She patted the space next to her. “What all happened between us last weekend? I’ll admit I’d had a little bit to drink and some of the details are fuzzy.”

Potter cleared his throat, scratched his ear, and tugged on his collar, seemingly all at once. It was almost endearing, Pansy decided, how nervous he was. She could almost see the appeal Draco saw in him. Almost.

“Well, um, you approached me at the Leaky,” Potter said, voice strangely gruff. “You’d overheard the conversation I was having with Hermione about, uh… some relationship difficulties I’d been having. Do you not remember this at all?”

“Of course I do,” Pansy lied. She took Potter’s untouched wine from him and set both of their glasses on the coffee table. “I offered to help you with those difficulties, didn’t I?” God, Draco was so predictable some times.

Harry nodded. “So we came back and here, and, well, you know the rest.”

Pansy scooted closer and trailed her fingers down Potter’s chest, enjoying the way his breath stopped and the heart beneath her fingertips went wild. “Pretend that I don’t,” she whispered. She leaned in, pressing her breasts against his chest as she caught his earlobe between her teeth. “Tell me what we did,” she breathed into his ear.

Potter shuddered. His hand slid through her hair, holding her against him as she bit and licked his neck with teasing precision. Pansy could feel his throat working beneath her tongue as he swallowed nervously. His entire body practically vibrated with anticipation.

“You,” Potter began, breathless and excited, “you told me how you liked to be touched, to be--” he groaned as Pansy popped open the button on his jeans and stuck her hand inside, wrapping her hand around his cock, “--kissed. You showed me how to, you know, pleasure a woman. With my mouth.”

Pansy laughed against his skin and gripped him harder, feeling the heavy weight of his cock in her palm as it grew. “And did you fuck me, Potter?” she asked, sliding her hand up and down his veiny length. “Did you fuck me with this big cock of yours?”

Potter made a high-pitched, whining sound. He head fell against the back of the settee and he let out a ragged little, “Yes.”

Pansy shifted her weight, crawling over him to straddle his hips as she pulled his cock out of his clothes and worked it in her hand. “And did you like it, Potter? Did you like being buried deep inside of me?”

Potter bit his lip and nodded, but it wasn’t enough. If this was going to work, he’d have to be on the brink of desperation. Pansy slid her hand over the head of his cock. She pushed back the foreskin and massaged the neck, dragging the tip of her thumbnail down his tender frenulum. He let out a stifled gasp and Pansy smirked, leaning forward. She covered him with her body, hovering just inches above him, and waited until his eyes fluttered open.

She waited until she could feel it: desire pooling behind the black of his dilated pupils; desperation in his ragged breaths; the pressing need of his body clenching and unclenching beneath her.

She waited until she could feel it, and then she kissed him.

Potter kissed like a dying man. He groaned into her mouth and bit her bottom lip each time she tried to pull away; he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her against him, his hands sliding down to grab her arse; his hips bucked beneath her, fucking himself into her tight fist. For a moment, Pansy almost considered abandoning her plan entirely and dragging him to her bedroom to keep all to herself.

And if she hadn’t heard the footsteps in the hallway or the sound of the door being unlocked, she just might have done that. But it was too late, and she was going to see this through come hell or highwater. She could only hope that Draco would figure out the game before he ruined it for the three of them.

Potter didn’t react until the door slammed. His eyes shot open and he looked with a combination of shock and horror towards the door, where Draco stood, stock-still, his satchel lying at his feet where he’d dropped it in surprise.

“Draco! Darling!” Pansy cried, making a show of pulling the skirt of her dress back down and the neckline back up. “I didn’t think you’d be home until late tonight! It’s not what it looks like!”

Slowly, Draco’s eyes moved away from Potter and settled on her. He gave her a look of mute confusion.

“I know this violates our agreement,” Pansy said, sending him a pointed look, “but I thought if you knew about Potter you’d never agree.” She turned her attention back to Potter and added, “I know how you two hate each other, but I couldn’t help it. I’ve just wanted you for so long.”

Potter, poor thing, looked as though he’d just swallowed a flobberworm. His cock had gone just about as limp as one. “I, uh, think I should go. I wouldn’t want to get between you two.”

Pansy was going to protest, but Draco spoke first. “No,” he said firmly, unknotting his tie. “That’s exactly what you’re going to do.” He sent Pansy a quick, questioning look. She nodded in reponse. “You can fuck my girlfriend all you want,” Draco continued, “but now without me. That’s our agreement.”

Before Potter could object, Pansy gave his soft cock a gentle squeeze and dragged her lips across his. “Please, Potter,” she whimpered into his mouth. “We’ll make it worth your while. We can do anything you want.”

Potter looked at Draco nervously and then whispered into her ear, “Could I, you know, again. In your arse? It’s just… I’d never, before.”

Pansy hid her smirk by burrowing her head in the crook of Potter’s neck. Again? Oh, Merlin. She and Draco were definitely going to have to talk after this.

“Darling?” she called out to Draco in a small voice, trying to hide her laughter. “Perhaps you should go get washed up. Give me a minute with Potter, if you don’t mind.”

After a moment’s hesitation, Draco nodded. He disappeared down the hall in the direction of the loo.

Pansy noted Potter’s disappointed groan and she climbed off his lap. She also noticed the spark of delight in his eyes when she unzipped her dress and let it pool at her feet. Taking him by the hand, she led him down the hall. The shower was running in the bathroom, and she could only hope she had enough time to plant the seed in Potter’s brain.

She almost went into her own room out of habit, but, remembering Draco’s ruse from the week before, opened Draco’s door and shoved Potter inside.

Potter tripped over the rug and landed halfway on the bed, legs sprawled. He hoisted himself up on his elbows and watched ravenously as Pansy shimmied out of her underwear and stood before him, naked as the day she was born. The burning look of desire he’d worn before Draco came home was back in his eyes.

She pulled his pants off and crawled onto the bed, leaning down to catch his lips in a heated kiss. Potter’s hands were instantly everywhere, skimming over her back, squeezing her arse, palming her breasts. He couldn’t seem to decide where he wanted to touch first.

Pansy reached behind herself and guided his hand down to the swell of her arse. He took the hint quickly, his fingers digging into her skin, prying her cheeks apart. She gasped when he felt the blunt tip of his finger press tentatively against her arsehole, but caught him by the wrist before he pushed any further.

She pulled his hand in front of her face and sucked the finger into her mouth, rolling it around on her tongue as obscenely as she could. “You really enjoyed my arse that night, didn’t you?” she whispered hotly.

Potter’s nodded, eyes wide and serious.

She directed his hand, with its slick digit, behind her again. She held her breath as it breached her tight hole. “Fuck,” she exhaled as he began to pump it in and out of her. “Well, what if I told you,” she said, pausing to catch her breath, “that mine wasn’t the only arse you could fuck tonight.”

He paused, and for a moment, Pansy worried that she’d lost him. But his finger began to move again, a slow push and pull in and out of her body, and his cock jumped against her thigh.

“It’s always been a fantasy of mine,” Pansy continued, arching her back for Potter’s viewing pleasure and pressing against his hand, “to see Draco taken by another man.” She waited, gauging Potter’s reaction. He didn’t appear to be salivating at the mouth, but he hadn’t run away screaming either. Distantly, she recognized the sound of the water being shut off. She only had a few more seconds to secure Potter’s cooperation. She ground her hips down, bearing as much of her weight as she could onto Potter’s groin and began to roll her body. “God, just think about it, Potter. One man, taking us both. It’d be so hot.”

Potter groaned, his body bucking beneath her. He grabbed her by the waist with both hands, pulling her even tighter against him. She could feel his cock, hard and hot, slide between the lips of her cunt, its fleshy head rubbing against her clit with each slow writhe. “Yeah,” he agreed with a grunt, “hot.”

Draco better hurry, she thought, or it was going to be over before it even started.

There was a knock. Pansy looked over her shoulder and saw Draco standing in the doorframe, a bemused smirk on his face and a white towel hanging low on his hips. “Darling, you made it,” she said brightly, beckoning him in.

She was surprised when he kissed her; shocked when she felt his hand slide over her ribcage and up to her breast. It’d been years since they’d been anything but platonic, years since he’d been anything but platonic with any woman. But still, it felt nice to have two pairs of hands skating across her body, and she couldn’t fault him for committing so fully to his unexpected role.

Pansy pulled away, surprised by how hard her heart was hammering, how deep the need in her core had grown. There was no point in dragging it out any longer.

“If I asked you to do something for me, would you?” she asked Draco, fluttering her lashes so coquettishly that he would know this was a part of the game.

“Anything, my darling.” He replied with such a slavish devotion that Pansy had to fight to keep from rolling her eyes.

She raked her fingernails down Potter’s chest just hard enough to make him hiss and then turned back to Draco. “I want to watch him fuck you.”

Draco bit his lip and glanced briefly at Potter. He was trying to decide how much to protest. Not enough to actually be effective, but just enough that he didn’t seem too eager.

“Oh, please, Draco,” Pansy said, pulling him in for another kiss. “Just this once. For me.”

Draco closed his eyes and nodded. To an outside observer, he might have looked resigned to his fate, acting only to keep his girlfriend happy. But Pansy’s keen eye saw the small quirk in the corner of his lips and the excited tremor in his hands. She clapped her hands together in excitement, and crawled to the head of the bed, noting as she did that Potter’s erection had failed to flag in the slightest. Interesting.

Draco dropped his towel, revealing his own hesitant erection. Potter politely diverted his eyes and cleared his throat. “So, how should we do this?”

Pansy stretched herself out on the bed. “Face to face, I think.” She propped herself up on one arm and settled in for the show.

Self-consciously, Potter and Draco moved into position: Draco on his back with his head on the pillows and his legs spread wide; Potter hovering above him, supporting his weight on his arms. They stared at each other, stuck in their awkward tableau.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Pansy sighed. “Kiss him. Make it look good for me, boys.”

After a moment’s of hesitation, Potter bent down and brushed his lips against Draco’s, the faintest whisper of a kiss. Draco seemed to bloom beneath him, opening his mouth under Potter’s, wrapping his arms around Potter’s neck and pulling him closer. They didn’t seem to need much instruction after that. Draco’s legs came up, encircling Potter’s hips, dragging Potter’s weight down on top of him.

Pansy let her hand wander down her body, squeezing her own breasts, teasing her own nipples, slipping between her legs. She stroked her clit softly, just enough to take the edge off of her arousal, as she watched Draco and Potter get lost in each other. Potter’s hips were rocking gently, dragging the length of his cock up and down Draco’s, leaving a trail of precome along the seam of Draco’s bollocks.

Draco tore his mouth away from Potter’s long enough to pant, “Lube. Pansy, the lube.”

She looked around quickly, spotting the tiny vial of lube on the bedstand next to her. She uncapped the bottle and poured a generous amount into her palms. She reached between them, wrapping her fist around Potter’s cock, unable to resist giving him a few gentle tugs as she spread the viscous liquid over his skin. With a second palmful, she reached between Draco’s legs, smearing as much as she could between his crack.

“Prepare him,” Pansy whispered, her sticky hand returning to its place between her own legs.

Potter braced himself on one arm and reached down, but Draco slapped his hand away. “No,” he said, shaking his head. “No, I want to feel it.”

Concern knitted itself in Potter’s brow. “Are you sure?”

Draco closed his eyes again and nodded.

Potter glanced briefly at Pansy. She gave him a nod as well.

Pansy watched without daring to blink as Potter lined himself up at Draco’s entrance. Carefully, and with expert precision, Potter pushed his hips forward. Draco let out a little gasp, his face screwing up, but sighed once the bulbous head of Potter’s cock was inside. Potter moved delicately, with slow, measured pumps, pushing his length inside Draco’s body in increments, until he was fully seated, the flat of his groin pressed against the curve of Draco’s round bottom.

Three sighs of relief went up in the room.

Potter pulled his hips back, the majority of his length sliding out of Draco’s body, until just the head remained inside.

“Fuck him,” Pansy whispered into the silence, absurdly around by the sight of her best friend getting fucked by another man. “Fuck him, Potter.”

“Yeah,” Potter said, breathless and strained. “Yeah, okay.”

He slammed his hips forward. Draco’s eyes snapped open and he sucked in a deep breath, but when Potter did it again, he let out a choked moan and grabbed the bedsheets, twisting them in his hands as his back lifted off the bed and he gasped with delight.

Encouraged by Draco’s reactions, Potter picked up speed. He grabbed hold of Draco’s skinny hips and held them in place as his hips snapped and Draco whimpered. When Draco reached for his own cock, Potter slapped it away and took it in his own, meaty hand.

Pansy could barely believe what she was seeing. She knew Draco would be over the moon about this entire situation, but she hadn’t anticipated the enthusiasm with which Potter would take to buggery. She let her fingers drift back and sink inside her, no longer content to gingerly tease her clit. She was feeling needy and empty and hoped her turn would come soon.

Draco’s entire upper body was turning red, his breath coming in desperate little bursts. He didn’t seem to know what he wanted more, to bear down onto Potter’s cock or fuck up into his fist. Potter made the choice for him, pulling out entirely and ignoring Draco’s whine of disappointment. He shoved two fingers where his cock had been and leaned over, swallowing the length of Draco’s cock in one skilled slurp.

“Shi-it!” Draco cried, his voice cracking. He dug his heels into the mattress and slammed himself down against Potter’s hand, his toes curling and hands clenching desperately in the rumpled bedsheets. He let go and curled his fingers through Potter’s thick black hair, holding Potter against his groin as his hips bucked and Pansy knew, at that moment, that Draco was coming in Potter’s mouth and Potter was swallowing it down.

Draco collapsed against the mattress, and Potter sat back on his heels, a look of smug satisfaction on his face.

“That was...” Pansy shook her head.

“Surprising,” Draco offered, eyes still shut and a small, blissful smile on his lips.

Pansy looked back at Potter and narrowed her eyes. “You’ve done this before,” she said suspiciously.

“Nope,” Potter said, crawling towards her. Pansy let him wrap his arms around her thighs and drag her down the bed. “I’m just a quick study. You taught me well.”

Pansy’s breath began to quicken as he spread her legs and traced the swollen lips of her cunt. “I might not remember everything about last time,” she said shakily, “but I’m pretty sure I didn’t teach you how to suck cock.”

Potter’s breath was hot against her skin. “Some things are intuitive.”

Whatever clever rejoined Pansy had in mind disappeared completely when two of Potter’s thick fingers breached her. She groaned, letting her head fall back as pleasure washed over her. She’d been so excited for so long, she felt as though her nerves were tuned tighter than a piano wire.

“Shut up,” she groaned, biting her lip to stifle her breathy gasps as Potter’s fingers worked her open. “Please just shut up and fuck me.”

Potter grinned cheekily, and pulled his fingers--dripping with her juices--out, moving them back to spread against her arsehole.

“No,” Pansy whined, squirming away. She didn’t have time for anal right now. All she wanted was to come. “Just regular, right now. Please, just fuck my cunt this time.”

Potter’s fingers slipped back inside her and she let out a sigh of relief. She was so swollen inside, her cunt so engorged with blood, than even two fingers made her feel like she stuffed beyond capacity. “Are you sure?”

“Of course, I’m fucking sure,” she said impatiently. Pansy scrambled onto her stomach and lifted herself onto all fours. “You can fuck me from behind if you want, but please, Potter, just put it in me.”

Pansy let her head hang between her arms and focused on regaining her self-control as she felt Potter move into position behind her. She felt his fingers opening her up, the head of his cock rubbing against her lips. And then finally, fucking finally, he was breaching her. She hissed in satisfaction as he began to move.

“Can I go hard?” he asked. “I just, I don’t think I’m going to last--”

“Yes!” Pansy barked.

Pansy felt Potter’s hands curl around her hips. He pulled her back onto her cock as he thrust forward, fucking a series of curses and whimpers from her with each thrust. His cock felt amazing inside her, as though it were all the way up in her stomach each time their bodies slapped together. His strength tightened and she was no longer rocked forward with every thrust. He held her tight, held her close, as though he’d mounted her like a dog. He made her feel feral, like a bitch in heat.

Pansy’s arms gave out and her upper-body collapsed against the bed, but Potter still had a strong grip on her hips, holding her in place as he fuck-fuck-fucked into her. She could barely believe what was happening. She could barely believe this was the same man who stumbled over a transparent invitation to “hang out” that morning. She wanted to laugh. She wanted to cry. She wanted build a sex dungeon just to lock him in it.

She tried to reach for her own clit, but Potter slapped her hand away, just as he had Draco’s. His hand felt huge as he cupped her cunt, his middle finger pressing between her lips to massage circles around her clit. She clamped her muscles down, trying to hold him inside, until finally, the piano wire inside her snapped, and she let out a shuddering cry, pleasure shooting up her spine and down each of her limbs.

Behind her, Potter’s pumps were becoming erratic, his grip on her arse painful. Like a gentleman, he’d held himself back until she came, and now he was letting himself go. He made a sound, halfway between a grunt and a whimper. He slowed down, and fucked into her a few more times, long, slow, unloading thrusts.

Pansy pressed the side of her face into the mattress and opened her eyes, searching immediately for Draco, who was lying on the other side of the bed, his lips pressed together in suppressed laughter.

“Oh my god!” she mouthed to him.

Draco mouthed back, “I know!”

She winced as Potter pulled himself out, and rolled to the far side of the bed so he would have space to plop down between her and Draco. He was covered in sweat and looked exhausted, but there was a contented smile on his face. “That was…” he said.

“Surprising?” Pansy said, smirking at Draco over Potter’s chest.

“Not what I had expected when I asked you out this morning.” Potter cracked an eye open and looked at her. “You weren’t really a virgin, were you?”

“What?”

“Last weekend. You said that you were a virgin pure-blood witch saving herself for marriage, and that’s why we had to, you know, in the arse.”

Pansy had to bury her face in the mattress to keep from laughing. Draco was an idiot.

When she was sure she wouldn’t give up the game, she lifted her head and shook it. “No, Potter, I wasn’t. I was just drunk and talking rubbish.”

“Oh,” Potter said, “okay then.” He sat up, looking around for his clothes. He seemed to have suddenly gone shy again, pulling the bedsheets up to cover his wilted cock. “I should probably go. I’m sure you two want to be alone.”

Pansy was going to object, but yet again, Draco beat her to it. “Or you could stay,” he said. “I noticed you two didn’t drink much of that wine. It’d be a shame to waste it.”

Potter looked between them. He must have decided the offer was genuine, because he shrugged and said, “Sure. But do you mind if I hop in your shower real quick first?”

Draco waved a dismissive hand and collapsed back into the mattress. “At the end of the hall. Clean towels are in the cupboard.”

Potter’s face was a charming red as he scurried out of the bedroom, stooping to pick up his clothes as he ran. His arse, Pansy noticed as he turned the corner, had its charms as well.

With an enormous, satisfied sigh, Pansy pillowed her hands beneath her hands and snuggled closer to Draco. “How much do you love me right now?”

Draco tried to roll his eyes, but ended up grinning instead. “Even I’ll admit, that was pretty slick. How long do you think it will take ‘til he realizes we’re not actually a couple?”

Pansy shrugged. It seemed like too ridiculous a ruse to maintain, but then again, Gryffindors were ridiculously naive. “Doesn’t really matter,” she said, flopping onto her back. “The real question is: how long do you think it will take me to convince him to let you fuck him?”

Draco let out a sigh and rolled onto his back as well. “A lot,” he said with a smile. “I love you a lot right now.”