FIREWHISKEY. NEED I SAY MORE?

Part I: Initial Constipation

Lavender reached behind Ron with a groan and grabbed his butt. Ron broke off the kiss, light-headed. There was a major migraine blossoming in the middle of his forehead. The smoky atmosphere, the drunken people, and the ear splitting music didn't help the matter.

Ron's left eye began twitching. He swallowed, feeling those five (or was it eight?) mugs of Firewhiskey coming back up his throat.

"Mm," Lavender sighed, her breath tickling Ron's ear. "You have the cutest bum, Ronnie-pie."

Ron's head was so heavy, his chin dropped to his chest. He grinned a little. Lavender was so pretty. He looked up at her. She smothered his lips with hers again, and the world became right again. Off to the side, Ginny hung limply off of a tired-looking Harry.

Harry shook his head at Ron's flushed face. The boy really couldn't hold his drink. After the second mug, Ron was already dancing on the tables. After the fourth, he was attempting to take off Neville's pants. And after the eighth, he was attempting to take off his own, before Lavender came and intervened.

"I'm going back to the Gryffindor tower," Harry shouted over the music in Ron's general direction. "I can't find Hermione, and I need to get Ginny back to her room while she can still walk." Ron broke off the kiss and looked toward Harry. Harry continued. "You coming?" Ron shook his head. Harry shrugged, shifting Ginny so most of her weight was on him, and began his slow retreat out of the crowded room.

It was the end of the year party, and the Patil twins organized a nice little get together for the Ravenclaws. That's what happened initially. Then Lavender invited the Gryffindors, then the Hufflepuffs decided to crash the party with a trunk of Firewhiskey, minutes later, some Slytherins (namely Blaise Zabini et co.) showed up with a couple trunks more. And then, here we are. Put four trunk-loads of Firewhiskey with a pack of repressed private magic school kids who also happen to be extremely sexually deprived, and we have a problem.

-

On the other side of the room, Malfoy stumbled around like a blind man. Pansy Parkinson disappeared halfway through a blow job, and now Malfoy had what felt like a bonfire on his crotch from the mother of all hard-ons. After downing a little less than a dozen mugs of Firewhiskey, he didn't have enough functioning brain parts left to go look for his girlfriend. Nor did he have the intention of jerking himself off. He needed to find something to put his dick in before it explodes. He leant against the wall, breathing in pants, as dancing bodies pushed against him. Malfoy groaned. Right there, a littler lower…nope, wait, ah, ah, ah…wait, oh, there, there. Sweet Merlin. Grind harder, harder, harder. Seamus Finnigan spun around. "Bloody hell, Malfoy, quit touching me."

And the almost-relief was gone, the space in front of him empting as Seamus moved. Malfoy moaned in annoyance. The fire was back on his crotch as he stumbled off, cursing his earlier self for letting Pansy coax him into taking aphrodisiac. "We can go at it for a longer time," she says, "It'll feel better, you'll be more sensitive," she says. Bah. Liar.

Part II: Check the Toilet Paper

Ron pushed Lavender away from him. She fell off the couch with a squeal. Ron covered his mouth as he made a mad dash for the bathroom. The beer was coming back up with Merlin-knows-what-else. Ron tripped, stumbled, and flew into the first stall he saw. It was taken, by Anthony Goldstein…and his girlfriend. Ron turned to the next one, took a step and fell face flat onto the cold tiles. His stomach lurched again, and he bumped his chin. Ron got shakily onto all fours and crawled to the next stall. He didn't even need to open it. He could see from his (low) vantage point that there were three pairs of feet in there. He kept crawling as his teeth began chattering, to the next stall. It was empty, and clean (thank Merlin), and Ron launched himself at the toilet bowl, bending his head over it. He waited…and waited.

Shit.

The Firewhiskey wasn't coming. It settled back in his trembling stomach. Ron sighed, relieved. He should get back to Lavender. Her hand was inching down toward his belt when he tasted something sour at the back of his throat. He looked down at his crotch. He doubted he could get it up in the state he was in for whatever she had intended to do. Ron closed his eyes lazily as he leant against the stall wall. The sounds of two simultaneous love sessions echoed around him. Something happened down in Ron's pants as the unmistakable voice of Anthony began a crescendo. Ron unbuttoned his pants and looked down again. Hm…nope. Still soft. What he felt was the need to piss.

Too lazy to undo his zipper all the way, Ron roughly pulled down his pants instead to where they bunched around his knees. He lifted himself up and barely managed to piss into the toilet. He also remembered to use toilet paper and flush. But he couldn't find the strength to ease himself off the toilet and back onto the floor. So he closed the lid on the bowl instead, folded his arms on the cold flat surface, and lowered his head into them. He was blearily aware of the cold air against his bare ass, but couldn't find the motivation or the need to cover himself.

-

Malfoy somehow managed to get pushed through the crowd and into the bathroom. He fell against the door, pulled it with all his strength for a good ten minutes before his brain processed the sign above the handle that read push. Malfoy smirked to himself, blushing a little in embarrassment, and looked around to see if anyone saw. Of course, no one did. He ambled through the door and proceeded straight to the sink to douse the fire on his dick. But there were only two faucets. And they were both taken. Malfoy went up to the closest one, grabbed the guy who was feeding the sink his dinner and threw him to the ground where he lay groaning.

At this point, Malfoy was willing to do anything to get rid of that awful feeling in his crotch. Reason had fled him. He turned on the faucet, relinquished the feel of fold water on his fingers, and had just managed to unzip his trousers when he caught a peculiar sight in the mirror. He could see, from the half opened door of the stall directly behind him, that there was a pretty little butt. It was bare, and round, and pale, and so damn sweet-looking. It looked like one of those porn star butts, tight and toned…so sexy and girly and so, so fuckable. Malfoy got an idea. He turned from the foul-smelling sink, stalked toward the stall, pulled open the door, crammed himself in the tiny little space, and locked the stall door behind him.

Part III: Relief

Malfoy reached down, pulled Ron's jumper up and out of his way, grabbed the redhead by the hips and lifted the pretty little butt to his flaming crotch. Malfoy aimed and thrusted…and thrusted. Ron, in his little dream world, groaned. Malfoy wrinkled his brows, confused. How the hell did he miss twice? He couldn't believe this. His dick was on fire, for Merlin's sake, he finds the most fuckable thing in all of Hogwarts right now, and he can't find its vagina. Malfoy scowled, concentrating. Fine, then, be that way. I'll anal this fuck puppy, he thought. He moved his hands inward, and dug his thumbs into the butt crack. Malfoy almost got off at the sight of his thumbs sinking into the soft flesh and the sexy little groan this little fuck puppy emitted.

Ron was pretty much awake now, but nowhere near sober, which explained his confused frown and surprised gasp as Malfoy stuck a finger inside him. The hands supporting Ron were gone now, and he almost smashed his face in on the toilet lid. He found the strength to maneuver his elbows into resting positions on the toilet seat, supporting himself. The finger wiggled around inside him, and Ron grunted, uncomfortable. The finger withdrew and plunged again, and again and again. The last time, they curled forward inside him. Ron gasped as he felt a white hot flare of pleasure explode inside him. Something happened in Ron's crotch (again), but there was no mistaking it this time. Down there, that's definitely a boner. The pleasure flare blinded Ron for a moment, and in his drunkenness he grinded back against the finger, urging it to go deeper. Malfoy drew a sharp breath. What a slutty little fuck puppy this one was. He withdrew his fingers. The fuck puppy moaned in protest. So Malfoy loosened his pants and stuck his burning-more-than-ever member into the warm, soft buttocks.

There was a clatter as one of the threesome in the next stall dropped their wand.

Ron's back arched. He hiccuped, groaning, and nearly sprained his neck in an attempt to sneak a look at whatever it was that had something hot and hard inside him. The hard thing moved. Ron saw white hair. His brain registered nothing. Ron groaned. The hard thing moved again. Ron's gasps and pants , punctuated with hiccups, became in tune with the sound of flesh hitting flesh. Malfoy's pelvis bones stuck out from his skinny body, slamming into the soft round butt every time he thrusted. The butt was going to be black and blue tomorrow, but not like Malfoy cared. He bit his lip, moaning against them. The passage was so tight…virgin. He wanted to go deeper, wanted to make the little fuck puppy pant harder. What an obedient one this one was. What a cute little voice this one has.

"Ah, ah–hic–ah, uahh, a–hic–ah…mmm, ah, ah uh–hic–hahh, hah, ahh, uah…st–hic– st –hic–st…ahh, stop…"

Stop? Psht. Yeah, right.

Malfoy was dimly aware that he was hurting the fuck puppy. It sounded like it was being kicked. Malfoy's lips parted slightly, and out came a cross between a pleasured groan and an annoyed whine. He was slamming into this pretty thing as hard as he could, yet he's still not deep enough, and the puppy is still not moaning loud enough. Screw this. He's gonna go for the gold.

Malfoy reached forward, looking for the wet channel he missed twice earlier. He found a boner instead. Now, the boy's brain hasn't melted enough to not register this. He was screwing a guy. Malfoy almost paused. Almost. But not because his brain found anything wrong with fucking a guy he didn't think he knew in a bathroom stall. He was actually reasoning with himself, thinking: it's okay if this isn't exactly consensual (or legal for that matter). The kid hasn't seen his face yet, so all he had to do was to make sure the kid never does. Malfoy decided that he would do his thing (translation: fuck Ron so hard that the redhead would still be in an orgasm when everyone who's cool dies in the last book), and then leave quietly. No one would ever know. Good idea, right? Malfoy thought so.

So he ran his hands up the boy's sides, pulling the redhead's jumper over his head and leaving it there, revealing a warm, naked torso lightly dusted with golden freckles here and there. Malfoy then lifted the little puppy up by the armpits and carefully flipped him around so he was sitting on the toilet lid.

-

Ron couldn't move his arms as they were raised above his head and secured in place by his thick jumper. The hands around his armpits tickled, and he had just been flipped around so quick that he head was spinning. But then again, a single slow nod could make Ron's head spin at this point. Ron shrugged the jumper up his arms so his mouth and nose were exposed. Hello, oxygen. Then lips pressed onto his. Ron almost sighed. Goodbye, oxygen. He struggled to breathe against the heated kiss, as the foreign tongue raped his mouth. He hiccuped against the other mouth and felt the other boy fight a smile. Why, it seems the twisted bastard liked to hear people getting hiccuped to death.

The grinding, thrusting hips moved again. The hard, jutting bones were slamming into Ron's inner thighs this time. Ron's tendons protested weakly as Malfoy swung Ron's left leg onto his shoulder, and letting the other leg drag onto the cold tiles. Both of their trousers grew wings and flew off somewhere by this point, not that they cared. Ron whimpered as Malfoy fucked him again and again. Malfoy grunted, sighed, moaned. The passage was still as tight but he was in it deeper now. Malfoy's hands massaged Ron, sometimes pinching, pulling scratching. Malfoy was sure that the fuck puppy was going to be black and blue all over tomorrow. The tongue that was thrusting into Ron's mouth at matching tempos with the hardness that was so blindingly hot inside him. Ron bit it. It was an accident. "Sorry," Ron managed to mumble. But the other boy's lips pulled away anyway to leave a trail of red hickeys down Ron's neck. Ron groaned aloud now.

"Uhhaah…hah, hah, ha–hic–hah…–hic–yah, yah, yeah...mmm–hic–mm–hic–more, mo–hic–ore, mooore…"

Malfoy slid Ron's left leg off his shoulder and hooked Ron's right leg around his waist. Lifting the other boy up, Malfoy spun Ron around so that Ron was straddling him and he was in a sitting position. Ron's thin hips moved by their own accord, grinding left and right, bouncing up and down as Malfoy supported him. Ron twitched. Malfoy looked down, his vision swimming. Ron was near cumming, but Malfoy had no idea what to do with a dick. He's only done girls before, he reminded himself. Uncertainly, he moved his right hand down and grasped Ron's member, twisting it this way and that, squeezing it, rubbing its head. Ron groaned louder. Malfoy's hand pumped at Ron, excited. Ron gasped. Malfoy fucked harder, pumping madly. "Louder," he encouraged, "Louder!" Ron obeyed.

Then, for the first time this night, Malfoy had a revelation. If he let the boy go ahead and cum, the boy won't pant, sigh, gasp, or make any of those sexy fuck puppy sounds anymore, 'cause he'd be done and over with, leaving Malfoy hanging. Malfoy released his hand. He can't let that happen. Ron whimpered wantonly, missing the grip around him. Malfoy looked down and saw a lone wand lying on the tiles; the one dropped by the party in the neighboring stall earlier. Malfoy picked up the wand, and miraculously remembering what he had once stumbled upon in one of Pansy's secret books, he (with a perverted smirk) uttered a little spell.

Ron felt like someone had tied a thick thread around the head of his member and pulled it tight. He gasped, confused, more aroused, and bit his lip as he felt the orgasm come. Oh, the pain, the pleasure, the burn…but the relief that was supposed to follow was nowhere to be found. Ron gasped. The pain built, the pleasure ascended, and the goddamn burn grew hotter and hotter. Ron was screaming at the top of his lungs now. Malfoy, moaning and withering under the astride Ron, dropped the wand in his excitement.

The thread disappeared and sweet relief came. Ron had never cum this hard in his life. Malfoy was thrusting into him still (ha, ha, Pansy's aphrodisiac). Malfoy leant forward and planted a long, languid kiss on his fuck puppy's neck, as Ron's voice soared louder still.

"Ah! Ah! A–hic–ahhh…Mmm, oh, oh–hic…Ah! Ah! Ah!"

Part IV: Wipe Ass

Outside, the party was still in full swing. Hermione walked alone down the hall, away from it, clutching her stomach and swaying. Mrs Norris met her halfway to the main staircase. In Hermione's befuddled brain she was still able to recognized that as a sign to hide. No sooner had she made herself unseen, Filch hobbled into sight, with Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Snape in a tow.

"They're right this way, Headmaster–" Filch turned to Snape, "Good thing that Zabini boy of yours tipped me off, or I'd never have imagined!" Turning back to Dumbledore, "They're in the Room of Requirements, here."

Snape lips thinned into a tight smile. Zabini has had a suspiciously happy look all day today, Snape realized as he thought back. He had a little feeling that they'd find no Slytherins in the mess. He also had a feeling that all the other Houses (save Slytherin) were going to lose a shitload of House points. Moreover, he also had a feeling that all of this was no coincidence. But then again, the Headmaster never really had a tolerance for "feelings". So there was no need to say anything.

-

A minute later, from her hiding spot, Hermione could hear Dumbledore's roar, McGonagall's disgust, Filch's cackle, Snape's silence, and beside her, the swish of Mrs Norris's tail. Hermione glared down at the cat. "Shh!" she warned. Hermione could almost hear Dumbledore's bellowing sleeves rustle as he raised his wand up high and the sound of the flick of his wrist. A blast of pure energy spiraled out from where Dumbledore stood and engulfed the entirety of the Room of Requirement. A stray stand of it hit Hermione. Instantly, the drunkenness disappeared. Hermione could see properly, stand up straight, and think complete thoughts. She was sober. Making a note to herself to look up that spell, she gave Mrs Norris a quick kick, and tiptoed soundlessly down the hall.

Part V: Look in the Bowl

In the last stall of the bathroom, Ron managed to struggle out of his jumper, lowering his arms. He opened his eyes to the pale, blood drained face of Malfoy. They looked at each other, both flushed, breathing hard. The steely grey eyes were wide as they surveyed Ron's naked body. Ron felt a shudder, then the hard thing in his butt released a hot wetness that fill up his inside. His baby blue eyes dropped down, then snapped up.

The boys were both silent for a moment.

Then two bloodcurdling screams rang out from the last stall in the bathroom.

Part VI: Flush and Pray It Doesn't Clog

Hermione turned quickly as the muffled screams reached the marble staircases. She shrugged and tiptoes up the rest of the steps, eager to find Ron and tell him about how she heard from Pavarti who heard from Padma who heard from Lavender Brown who heard from Susan Bones, who heard from Zacharias Smith who was in the bathroom when he heard Malfoy fucking some guy in the last stall in the bathroom.

Hermione smirked a smirk very unlike herself, thinking: Malfoy sure is to get it tomorrow, along with the poor sap who's drunk enough to get caught being screwed by that bastard in the last stall in the bathroom.

-

END

CAISELE:

PLEASE REVIEW!

This is the most pointless thing I've written...ever! But I just wanted to write about sex. And I didn't want to make a whole story out of it. So get your fix, get inspired and we'll meet again when my writing mood is not in the shitter (no pun intended).