Of Bathrooms and Bad Plans

A/N: If you're expecting plot, you're in the wrong place. If you're expecting bad smut, then this is the right thing. All criticism accepted (flame all you want; I won't be hurt).

Harry was screwed, not only figuratively, but, if he didn't stop this soon, he'd be screwed literally as well. That wasn't a bad thing per se, but, really, not here. Not like this.

When Draco had told him he'd have a surprise for him, Harry had expected a leather whip, a dildo or something kinky of the sort (oh, they'd done quite kinky things before), but not exactly being corned in a bathroom and, having Draco, push him against a toilet seat, straddling him. It just – wasn't a good plan. It was a fucking retarded plan, actually.

So, now he found himself in this hopeless and stupid predicament, in some shoddy disco's washing room, where the light bulb flickered uneasily and the tiles were a sickening yellow. It smelled awful, too, of chemicals intermixed with urine and cigarette ash. Hardly arousing, apart from Draco, who smelled awfully good, being on top of him.

Still, really, for being a damned aristocrat, Draco had no taste whatsoever.

He could still hear the music blaring and it reminded him precisely why he didn't want this. Of course, he had decided to inform his boyfriend about his doubts before things got entirely out of hand, but Draco didn't react very favourably. Not that Harry had expected him to, really.

"Harry, you idiot. Just get a grip, will you?"

"Fuck you, this is awful... I don't understand why I went along with this."

Sure, he appreciated Draco's sexual enthusiasm, but this was batshit insane. And he was insane for not having pushed Draco away at once.

„Stop whining like some stupid dick and just trust me."

Harry raised his eyebrows; trusting Draco was one thing, but trusting him not to get caught here was another. They were in a public bathroom, for heaven's sake. Anyone and, really anyone, could walk in here joyfully, hearing them going at it – and if that happened, Ron would never let him live it down. He could already hear Ron saying "Blimey mate, you're sure a moron to have allowed that Malfoy git to have dragged you in such a mess."

Honestly, Ron might a lot of things, but he wasn't an idiot; he knew that public sex wasn't the best thing to do. No matter how hot and tempting the concept of it was.

"I still say, this is bullshit, they're gonna catch us and the press is goin' to have a fie-"

"Shut up, Potter. Just shut up. You're a Gryffindor, aren't you?"

Yes, he was Gryffindor, but not a moron. Draco just didn't get it. Sometimes, Harry asked himself why he'd done this to himself – Malfoy was such a stubborn brat.

"No, I'm not going to-"

Draco, unfortunately, was an asshole and, being an asshole, he used Harry's weakest spot. Licking Harry's cheek, he breathed down his ear and started to nibble it. His hot breath sent shivers down Harry's spine and he closed his eyes – this felt good. He didn't even notice Draco's travelling downwards and beginning to stroke, slowly and with all the intention to get him excited. And blast it all, it worked.

"Really?" Draco asked, smirking, "your body seems to be telling, otherwise."

Harry looked away embarrassed, not believing he'd fallen for that old trick again.

"Just hold your tongue."

To demonstrate how traitorous Harry's body was, he reached down to stroke Harry's very evident arousal and, licking his lips, smiled impishly.

"I'm going to make it worth it. 'Sides, I used a spell to keep us safe."

Harry was about to protest on a spell really being that safe and he wriggled, but Draco's legs, draped on either side of him, didn't let him go. And any protest he might have voiced died down his throat when Draco kissed him hard. He definitely knew how to shut him up.

Draco was positively evil; he kissed like he had no time to spare and, even though, he was forceful, he still found the right balance. He was gentle in his kisses, so gentle that it sent tingles of pleasure down Harry's stomach and made his knees weak.

Harry couldn't resist much longer, and returning Draco's kisses, placed both of his hands around the other man's neck and pulled him closer. Both of them gasped when their lower regions came into contact, the friction unbearable. Draco kissed him even more passionately, forcing his tongue deeper into Harry's mouth, making him moan into the kiss and their bodies rubbed against each other.

"God, just -"

"No, not yet."

"Draco..."

"Wait, I said."

Draco started to trail lazy kisses down Harry's exposed neck, licking and kissing. Harry shivered, restraining himself not to gasp, but, fucking hell, he felt like he'd die from the anticipation.

Just when he though, it couldn't get any worse, Draco shifted positions and, going down on his knees, unzipped Harry's trousers, who somehow managed not to swear. Honestly, he didn't think that calling Draco a "bloody wanker" was going to get him anywhere. Draco was malicious and who knew what methods of torment he'd cook up, if Harry didn't keep his dumb mouth shut.

Harry bit down on his lips when he felt the other's hot mouth – slowly and laboriously – sucking him. Draco was careful not take Harry's cock in his mouth and, alternately breathing down and sucking again, he drove his former rival crazy.

It was too much, too much to bear and, losing his nerve, he groaned and squirmed in the seat, wondering how the hell he'd make it through. But the worst thing, just when he was sure he'd explode, Draco didn't finish. This was beyond sadistic.

"Don't..please, just let me-"

He didn't know when Draco had gotten rid off his pants or why he was doing this without any fucking lube, but, then again, his sense of rationality had gone out of the window. He couldn't pay attention to anything, but how much he wanted Draco. Pathetic, but it was the truth.

"I prepared myself already, so it won't hurt."

"Hmm." Harry found himself agreeing, though he really wasn't listening. Draco could have just as well said "Hey, I'm a hermaphrodite and have been seeing Hagrid all this now," without him flinching the slightest bit. He just wanted to fuck, to be utterly honest.

Draco lowered himself slow down Harry's length, careful again not to rush things. He felt hot and tight, so tight that Harry swore, doing his best not to change their position and just start pounding into him, in rhythm with the music still ringing in his ears. He liked it hard, liked hearing Draco trying to suppress his moans.

But that would have been selfish. Draco obviously wanted to take this slowly and, who was he, to interfere with his plans?

"This feels so good, Harry," Draco half-panted, half said, starting to move. His movements were slow at first, before they spiralled off into fast, uneven and mind-numbingly maddening and good up and down motions. Now, even if someone had ripped the door open with a camera flashing right in front of them, he wouldn't have given a damn.

Harry had always admired how pretty Draco looked during sex: pale cheeks flushed red, his lips wide and his eyes closed, concentrating on the task at hand. He made those delightful sounds as well – panting, but never doing it too loud, lest it offended his dignity. And Draco was a very dignified person. And now, he looked even hotter – he was flushed and his hair, slightly tousled, fell forward into his face.

Harry touched his face and took one of the strands into his hand, marvelling at how soft Draco's hair was. He was gorgeous and, the best thing of all, his.

"You feel so good --

"Don't speak – just "

Harry met his lover's movements with his own, thrusting his hips upwards to fuel the whole thing – he needed it to be faster. He was close, already feeling that familiar sensation of everything crashing together and becoming hotter, blurred. Even the flickering lights didn't bother him anymore.

He grabbed hold of Draco's erection and started to stroke – quickly and restlessly because it was hard -- hard to concentrate, hard to do anything other than jerking his hips upwards.

Both of them lost themselves soon enough, forgetting everything, save the feeling of pleasure. Draco gave a soft moan and, boneless, buried his face in Harry's chest. Harry, not quite as restrained, bit his lips and, forcing Draco to look up, kissed him – holding on to the other's body tightly while he reached climax.

"This wasn't so bad, was it?" Draco asked, sounding hoarse. He was still straddling Harry and leaning against his chest.

Harry couldn't lie – this hadn't been such a shitty plan, after all.

"No, it was fucking awesome."

Draco looked up and grinned, looking as satisfied as if he'd gotten an award for giving Harry the best sex of his life. Which in some ways he had, but Harry wasn't going to admit that. Draco's ego was bloated enough. Besides, this wasn't just about sex.

Yes, Harry was a sap, but he couldn't stop thinking that Draco was the best thing that had ever happened to him. Sure, he was selfish, annoying and insulted him more often than was good, but he was also honest, liked Harry for who he was and, moreover, was surprisingly creative in ways he could have never imagined.

"You know, I love you."

"Hmm. I love you too, in spite of you being such a dumbass about some things."

"Shut up."

"Hey, don't forget what I just did for you."

Harry kissed Draco's forehead in response, liking how good it felt to be so intimate. Draco sighed happily and embraced Harry, closing his eyes. Sooner or later, he'd start grumbling about the mess, but for now, it was nice to hold like this. Harry couldn't help smiling and saying:

"And you know, we should absolutely do this again."