The Great Bottom Battle of 2009

"Over my dead body, Potter. Haven't we had this discussion before?"

Harry downed another Firewhisky, slamming the glass onto to the glossy wood to get the barkeep’s attention. "My bet is you'd be a brilliant bottom, Malfoy. That fine arse of yours just screams it."

"You've obviously had too much to drink. Not that it's unusual, mind you. And not that my arse is not very fine, indeed. But if I've said it once, I've said it a hundred times. If we ever shag, which, by the way, is highly unlikely given your penchant for plaid and your unruly hair, then you would most certainly bottom."

Harry picked up his freshly filled glass and studied it, contemplating the offer. Malfoy's arse was fine, he had to admit that. So were his lips, for that matter. As well as that very prominent bulge in his trousers. Harry lifted the glass to his lips to cover his smirk. Malfoy wanted him, even if he would never admit it. Or would he?

"All right," Harry said casually, resting his drink on the bar so he could pull out a handful of Galleons. He nodded to the barman before turning to face one extremely surprised Draco Malfoy. "My place or yours?"

Draco stared at him and for a moment, Harry thought he'd say no. "You're serious?" he finally asked.

"Deadly serious," Harry answered. "Only there's one catch. If we do this, we play by my rules."

"Your rules? What rules are those, Potter? That I don't run to the Prophet and give precious details of the Boy Wonder's—"

"You wouldn't do that, and even if you did, I really don't care what the Prophet, or anyone else, knows or doesn't know, for that matter. No. My rules are much simpler than that. We do this my way. You get to be the only man to ever fuck the Great Harry Potter, but I get to call the shots. All the shots."

Draco looked like he might refuse, but Harry knew the temptation was too great. Draco had been flirting with him for months, maybe longer, if Harry's history of being completely oblivious was taken into account.

It had been a bit of a shock to them both when they'd discovered they finally had something in common. That the famous Harry Potter, fearless leader of the light and golden boy of Gryffindor, and the infamous Draco Malfoy, not so fearless follower of the not-so-light and tarnished boy of Slytherin, were both unapologetically gay. Luckily, they'd both been stumbling drunk at the time, and it had been a Muggle club, or Harry was sure Draco would have hexed him just for the irony. Instead, they'd spent the evening lamenting the lack of eligible gay wizards while seeing who could down the most shots of tequila in one night. Harry had won. If winning meant dragging an unconscious Draco Malfoy home and nursing a hangover for the next two days, that is.

Draco emptied his drink in one long gulp and set it gently on the bar. "Fine. Your arse, your rules," he said finally.

Harry grinned. "My place, then."

"Your place? That hovel of a flat you call home? You expect me to—"

"My rules, Draco. Take it or leave it."

"Fine. But you'd better be worth it."

~~~~

"Merlin, Potter, you never cease to amaze me, you know that?"

"What?" Harry had never quite mastered the art of Side-Along Apparition, which had never been more obvious than now. Surprisingly, Draco looked less irritated than amused.

"You have the entire wizarding world fooled into thinking you're the most powerful wizard that ever lived, and you can't even—"

"I don't want them to believe that! They don't bloody well ask me, now do they?"

"It was a complement, not a criticism. For what it's worth." Now he seemed irritated. Fuck. This wasn't going at all the way Harry had planned. "Bedroom is this way, if I remember correctly," Draco said matter of factly as he headed up the stairs.

Harry took a deep breath, trying to get things back on track. Following Draco's gorgeous arse up the stairs seemed to do more than the deep breath had. Holy fuck, Draco did have a fine arse. By the time Harry made it to the bedroom, Draco was already unfastening his robe. Harry strode forward with a renewed sense of his mission. He stilled Draco's fingers, shaking his head. "My rules, remember?" Before Draco had a chance to argue, Harry kissed him. It was slow and tender, not Harry's typical kiss when it came to casual sex, but this was Draco and, somehow, that made everything different.

"Potter?" Draco pulled away, breathless, his eyes filled with confusion.

Harry's lip quirked up into what he knew was a crooked grin. He answered Draco's unasked question the only way he knew how. "Humour me. I've never done this before."

Draco's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "What do you mean you've never—?"

"Not sex, stupid. Bottomed. I've never bottomed before."

"Oh." Draco looked more pleased than he should have. "Well, if it makes any difference, I haven't, either."

"Yeah, but you're not, so ... no, that doesn’t really help much."

Draco's eyes softened. Or maybe Harry imagined it. He wasn't sure. "It's not too late to change your mind. A little mutual wanking really works just as well, anyway."

Harry couldn't help but laugh. That was a bald-faced lie and they both knew it, but Harry appreciated the thought. It wasn't that he'd never wanted to bottom, it was more that everyone he'd ever dated, and he used the term very loosely, had always expected him to top. He was the Great Harry Potter, after all. He was supposed to be a top. In his fantasies though... well, now that was a different story altogether.

"Okay. Slow it is, then," Draco said softly, interrupting Harry's musings.

"Yeah," Harry agreed as he backed Draco toward the bed and eased him back onto the deep blue covers. The man really was gorgeous. You'd have to be blind not to see it. Harry climbed onto the bed, scooting close to Draco, but not lying down next to him. Kneeling, he unsnapped Draco's robe slowly, kissing each patch of pale skin as it was exposed. Draco hummed appreciatively, threading his fingers through Harry's dark hair.

"Mm, you're rather good at this. Who would have guessed?"

In answer, Harry nipped at Draco's newly exposed nipple, eliciting a pleasured moan instead of a slap upside the back of the head as he'd expected. It gave Harry a wicked idea, and he wondered why he hadn't thought of it before. Harry sat up, running his hands along Draco's firm chest and along surprisingly muscular shoulders. Harry had always imagined Draco to be nothing but skin and bones under his robes. Nothing could be further from the truth. Draco slipped his arms free from his robes with a practiced ease that made Harry just a tiny bit jealous, even though he would never admit it. Draco looked almost vulnerable, something else he'd never imagined from the man. Harry had always suspected the whole top/bottom issue was about control for Draco. That he'd never allow himself to give that much, or let himself be in a position where someone else appeared to have control of his body in any way. Harry was about to change his perspective.

He leaned forward again, kissing Draco's lips gently. "Put your hands above your head."

Draco paused, searching Harry's eyes. Harry could almost hear him repeating, "your rules" to himself before he did as he was told. Harry whispered a word and satin ties snaked their way around Draco's thin wrists, binding them loosely to the headboard. Draco worried his lower lip with his teeth, tugging on the bonds to test them. He seemed satisfied that he could get out easily enough if he really wanted to, and relaxed again. "You're a tricky little devil, aren't you?" he asked, smirking. "I think I like it."

Harry grinned. His cock seemed to be agreeing wholeheartedly. Harry pulled his shirt over his head and unbuttoned his trousers quickly, tossing them carelessly to the floor. Draco's eyes raked over his half-naked body, pausing to stare at the definite outline Harry's cock made in his black pants.

"Although it's going to be rather hard for me to fuck you with my hands tied, don't you think?"

"Oh, I think we can find a way," Harry answered, his lips already back on Draco's pale skin. He took his time, moving slowly from Draco's mouth, down the sharp jaw line, along the slim neck, tracing Draco's collarbone with his tongue. All the while Draco urged him on with his whimpers, tugging occasionally at the satin ties. Harry moved downward, over nipples and ribs, mouthing Draco's cock through his satin boxers. Draco bucked upward, whining incoherently.

"Fuck, Harry," Draco whispered, grinding his cock against Harry's face, and Harry wondered how such a thing could be so utterly sexy. "Pants. Off," Draco demanded and Harry was only too happy to comply. Harry ran his tongue along Draco's cock from tip to base before sucking on first one ball, then the other. "Ngh," Draco responded.

Harry's tongue drifted lower, licking the baby soft skin beneath Draco's balls. He lifted Draco's legs, pushing them forward, and he couldn't help but wonder what it would feel like to fuck that perfectly pink, perfectly tight hole. "Tell me, Draco, why is it that you don't want to bottom?"

Draco's legs tensed and he tugged against his satin bonds. "We had a deal, Potter."

"I know. I just—" Harry swiped his tongue along Draco's hole and the man shuddered, bucking toward Harry's mouth. "I'm curious, that's all."

"Can we ... ngh." Harry pressed his tongue into the tight ring, relishing the taste and texture almost as much as the noises Draco was making. "Can we talk about this later?" Draco's words were mere puffs of breath, egging Harry on with his mission. He pushed Draco's thighs up farther, spreading them slightly, and continued to lick and suck and fuck Draco with his tongue, because this wasn't bottoming ... this was just ... pleasure, pure and simple. "Fuck, Potter, if you don't stop, I'll—" Harry gave one last hard thrust with his tongue and Draco mewled like a tortured kitten. Harry pulled away, knowing Draco was right, and suddenly wanting Draco's cock in his arse more than he would have ever thought possible.

Harry released Draco's thighs and his legs fell to the bed as if they were dead weight. He reached for his wand, which he must have deposited on the bedside table out of habit, and whispered the spell he'd perfected on other people, but had never used on himself. The sensation was more erotic than he'd expected. A feeling of warmth and emptiness. He licked his way back up Draco's cock, sucking until a string of curses flew from Draco's swollen lips. "You're a fucking tease, Harry Potter."

"Am I?" Harry asked, grinning.

Draco opened his eyes, which had been squeezed tightly shut, and glared venomously. "Are you going to let me go so I can fuck you, are do you plan to torture me all night?"

"Who said anything about letting you go?" Harry asked as he crawled on top of Draco to straddle him, nestling Draco's cock between his arse cheeks. "I think I rather like you like this."

"I think you'd better—" Harry's lips cut the words off, but Draco didn't seem to mind. He was almost hysterical in his movements. His body bucking up against Harry's, his cock rubbing frantically against Harry's hole, and his lips and tongue pressing desperately against Harry's mouth. Harry had seen Draco lose control many times. Harry had seen him wallow in a drunken stupor over all that he'd lost, Harry had seen him fly into fits of anger and rage, Harry had seen him fall from a barstool in bouts of uncontrollable laughter. But he'd never seen him like this.

Harry lifted himself up, holding Draco's cock with one hand and balancing himself on Draco's chest with the other. He teased the head of Draco's cock, rubbing it against his hole. "Is this what you want, Draco?"

"Fuck, yes, Goddammit, you fucking tease, yes ... please." It was the please that got him. The complete and utter cracking of Draco's voice, the tortured whimper that told Harry he'd reached his breaking point. Harry lowered himself hard, wincing at the mixture of pain and pleasure. He'd fantasised about this many times. Practiced with his own fingers and with toys, but nothing, nothing, had prepared him for this. It was frenzied and wild, and Harry's thighs ached from the unaccustomed movement, but it was glorious and just ... guh. His mind felt as though it would shut down at any minute.

He opened his eyes, not realising he had closed them, to see Draco watching him, eyes wide with wonder. Harry bit down on his lip and met them with a steady gaze. "Fuck," Draco whispered, tugging hard on his bonds. One hand tore free and Draco reached up, tearing at Harry's hair to pull him down into what Harry could only describe as an assault. Harry lost count of who was moving or how, all he knew was Draco's cock was hitting his prostate with every thrust and his own cock was trapped in the midst of the wonderful friction of their bodies and that he came harder than he had in a very, very long time.

Draco must have freed his other hand, because both hands ended up on Harry's hips, lifting and dropping him in a rhythm that seemed almost hypnotic, until Draco keened and shuddered beneath him. Harry collapsed onto Draco's chest, exhausted, but more satisfied than he could ever remember being. They lay there for a long time before Draco interrupted the silence.

"Potter?" Harry shifted, dragging his face reluctantly from where it was nestled so comfortably against Draco's neck. Draco stared blankly at the ceiling. "Do you think we'll ever do this again?" he asked quietly.

"I hope so," Harry answered honestly, feeling a bit bereft at the idea of missing out on something that was obviously so ... good. There was another long stretch of silence before Draco turned to face him. Draco's pale skin was still tinged pink. No, Harry realised a fresh wave of colour was infusing his skin, making a slow path from his chest, up his neck, and coating the sharp cheekbones in a pale rose.

"Harry." Draco paused and the colour on his cheeks darkened. "I think next time ... well, since you were such a gentleman, and all. Perhaps it's only fair that next time ... I bottom."

Harry bit his lip to stop his laughter. Instead, he buried his face back into Draco's neck and wrapped his arms tightly around the slim waist. "Whatever you want, Draco." Harry kissed the soft skin beneath Draco's ear and felt the man shiver in his arms. "Whatever you want," Harry whispered again, and meant it.

~~~fin~~~