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For some unfathomable reason I got the urge to write this atypical A+T piece. The whole Plot? What plot? is mine. Sadly, the characters aren't. Title: Proprietary Rights [A+T Potterverse] Harry woke up with a snort. He had a bizarre dream of being dressed in salad cream and having the giant squid wrapping its slimy tentacles around his lithe body as it clicked its maws in a decidedly salacious manner. Its inky black orbs were swivelling independently, and Harry’s dream-self had no doubt that the repulsive creature had wanted to have him for its main course. He sat up and opened his eyes carefully. The room spun. He gave a low moan and fell onto his back, squashing his snoring bed mate in the process. A bony elbow poked awkwardly into his back; he huffed, and rolled Draco onto his side and sank thankfully into the Draco-shaped depression on the mattress. A clammy arm snaked around his middle. His head pounded, even as he shifted slightly to look at his sleeping companion. The blond slept on fitfully, mouth slightly open and snoring erratically. He lifted Draco’s arm; it dangled like a lifeless albino snake. Disgusted, he let it drop with a flump. He must have had worn Draco out. They had spent the evening messing about with Draco’s portable potion making kit, concocting a highly dubious substance. According to the tattered spell book which they had liberated from Snape’s quarters, it was supposed to be a powerful aphrodisiac – guaranteed to create a race of super randy beings. Being 17, reckless and highly imbibed with a generous measure of Blitzerbooze™ and deep-fried squids, they had duly consumed the substance and looked forward to a night of debauchery, wizard-boys style. Somewhat gung-ho and not 100% compos mentis, they had sneaked into Harry’s dorm [which was almost empty as it was the Easter break], stripped off to their shorts, grappled and dived bombed each other in abandon with an ear shattering din – enough to put a cage full of chimpanzees to shame – until they both passed out mid-action. Neither boy noticed the double-protection Silencing Spell that Dean Thomas had helpfully cast around Harry’s bed to secure all of them some sanity and peace. Now that he was awake – pounding headache notwithstanding – Harry decided the fun should continue, oblivious to the fact that his beloved and ever-obliging partner was asleep and somewhat non-fully functional. He rolled Draco onto his stomach, and nibbled his ear gently. The blond gave a sudden snort and ground his orthodontically corrected teeth in his sleep. “Wake up,” Harry tickled his armpits playfully, “Wake up. I wanna play.” Draco mumbled indistinctly and ground his teeth again. Harry nuzzled the back of Draco’s neck affectionately, teeth nipping the salty skin. He squashed his nose against Draco’s skin, breathing in the boy’s scent. Harry ran his fingers through the mussed up blond hair, as he pressed his face between Draco’s shoulder blades and smiled. Being with Draco made him deliriously happy and it gave him a sense of contentment. Sod what the others would say if and when they find out. They can go drown themselves in toxic waste for all he cared; the Dursleys and the Weasleys leading the line, no doubt. “Sod them all,” he whispered fiercely. He hugged the sleeping boy ardently, as a sudden flare of possessiveness overwhelmed him. Draco sighed in his sleep, a blissful smile twitching the corners of his lips. Draco’s skin glowed softly in the muted light, and his face, blissful and innocent in sleep made him look like an angelic choirboy. Harry shook him gently. No response. Harry looked down at his own equally non-fully functional member, and holding it in one hand, slapped it against Draco’s bottom. “C’mon sweet, wake up. Let’s play,” Harry whined half-heartedly. Draco was out. So was little Harry. “Gnnh,” Harry grunted in disgust. Okay, face reality, Potter, you are as functional as a week old overripe banana, he thought. Molesting someone who was out cold, no matter how kinky the idea was, wasn’t his cup of tea. Especially when that someone was a smart-mouthed, wand happy twerp with an arsenal of curses and hexes under his belt. Harry huffed in frustration and stuck his head out of his bed hangings. He spied a marker pen on Dean’s bedside table amidst his pile of art projects. A slow smile spread across his face. He pulled out his wand and Accio-ed the pen into his hand. His grin widened. He would have some fun after all. * * * “Oy, Malfoy! Are you trying to drown yourself? You’ve been in there for an hour already.” Draco stuck his head under the shower and squeezed his eyes shut. He was still woozy from last night’s excesses. All he could remember was waking up to a thoroughly sensuous tongue bath and the strange half-arsed grin on Harry’s face as he surrendered to the sensations and mewled in rapture as Harry pleasured him repeatedly. Waking up with Harry always had its benefits. He soaped himself one last time and hoped that Harry had not done anything wicked to him while he was out cold. He would so hated missing the fun! But he wouldn’t put that past the sometimes deranged hero of the Wizarding World, especially when the said hero was drunk and disorderly. He had no idea how he managed to haul himself back to his dorm; Harry probably had dumped him there while he was still semi-comatose from sensory overload. Harry always got what Harry wanted, and Draco never had any issue in fulfilling his beloved’s wishes, although Harry could be rather selfish sometimes. Harry had always been more of a taker, while Draco had been a jubilant giver. They had come to a mutual understanding and both were delighted with the arrangement. Draco turned off the taps and dried himself slowly. He examined a string of Potter-bites on his torso and stifled a groan. Crabbe and Goyle eyed him warily as he staggered into the dorm and sat down gingerly on his bed. “Rough night?” Blaise chirped from the other end of the dorm as he eyed Draco’s bare torso brazenly. Draco pulled a face, made a rude gesture, and bends down to open his trunk. “What’s that?” Blaise hurried over and prodded a finger on Draco’s backside. Draco yelped and clutched his low slung towel. He turned around furiously. “Keep your filthy paws off me!” Blaise eyes widened and he motioned to the dynamic duo. They lumbered over and the three Slytherins stared at the blond’s rear in fascination. Draco flustered. He jumped a foot in the air when a stubby finger poked at the exposed flesh between his waist and the towel. “Quit it, you perverts!” he yelled as the trio circled around him, sniggering openly. Oh boy, some people will die a slow painful death if Harry ever found out they’d dared touch me, he thought furiously. An image of a snarling Harry Potter – wand in one hand and his trusty penknife in another – came to the fore of his mind. They will probably be wearing their spleen and guts as garlands to complete the gruesome picture. Crabbe whistled and Blaise brayed with laughter. They collapsed onto the floor, tears streaming down their cheeks, arms holding each other for support. Draco fought an insane urge to kick them in the teeth. Goyle guffawed, and quickly turned it into a strangled cough when he caught sight of Draco’s angry face. “Er, Malfoy” he mumbled solemnly, “You have been marked.” Draco twisted his head as he tried to look at the bit of flesh Goyle was pointing to. Right smack in the middle of the small of his back – framed within a picture of a multi-coloured, glittering, winged Snitch – written in a fancy script, were the terse declaration: “Sole Property of HJP”. ~ Finis ~ © Zed Adams ANALogy & TOPology Potterverse Footnote: My A+T boys love each other, really. Whoever had any doubt that the A+T boys did not truly love each other can go join the Dursleys and the Weasley for the swim in the toxic waste. |