Draco tilted his neck up, leaning his head against the brick wall. He knew the angle would accentuate his lithe frame, protruding hip bones visible beneath thin fabric. It would show off the larger-than-normal bulge in his trousers, the bulge that had been getting thicker since he heard his surname thrown from Potter’s mouth.

He knew it was working when he saw Potter hesitantly palm the front of his robes.

“Want to hold me still with your bare hands?”

Potter’s fingers twitched into a fist before flaring out again.

“Push my shoulders down until I’m kneeling in front of you?”

He watched the slight shudder course over Potter’s skin.

“Want me to open my mouth as I plead for leniency.” It wasn’t a question anymore, the words rolling off his tongue.

“Want me to beg, say I’ll do anything, anything, if you let me go.” He raised his eyebrows suggestively and watched as Potter drew in a sharp breath.

“And you would pull out that thick cock of yours,” Draco’s eyes dropped again, admiring Potter’s knuckles as they ran along his hardness. “Shove it into my needy mouth, shut me up with it until all I can do is suck and pant.”

Potter was leaning towards him now, his entire body enraptured by Draco’s words. His hands kept flexing, and Draco wondered if he was trying to stop himself from grabbing his own cock or grabbing Draco’s hair and forcing him to the ground.

“You’d thrust it so hard down my willing mouth that I’d gag, but you wouldn’t care, would you, Potter? Watch me struggle to take you down, over and over again.”

He was rubbing faster now, his hand blatantly brushing the front of his robes in eager strokes.

“Pull it out for me, Potter. I want to see your cock.”

Draco knew there’d be hesitancy in the Chosen One’s face, as he questioned the morals and implications of unsheathing himself in a public alley, in front of an alleged criminal, in front of Draco sodding Malfoy.

But Potter was a Gryffindor, and used to getting exactly what he wanted, fucking prick. Draco wasn’t surprised to see his needy hands delve into the hem of his trousers, palming himself, his eyes rolling back slightly when he finally touched himself.

It took another minute, the alleyway silent except for ragged breathing and the rough sound of skin on skin, before Draco heard the unmistakable sound of Potter undoing his robes, fabric sliding downwards as he finally exposed his length.

“Yes, that’s it,” Draco cooed. “Gods, that cock would feel so good between my lips. I want to touch it, but you’ve got me all tied up over here.” He pulled at his restraints, flexing his arms in the process. He heard a small groan escape Potter’s throat as his shirt rode up a little, exposing just the tiniest bit of pale flesh.