Tickle Me Pink
"You know," Harry began, "when they said you joined a cult, I really didn't believe them."
With a sour look, Malfoy took a long drag of his cigarette. The five o'clock shadow dusting his pale cheeks made his pink dress and velvet bow seem out of place. Harry couldn't help but stare.
"Don't mock the ceremonial robes of my people," Malfoy sneered.
Harry's office was an expanse of lacquered wood and glass. He spread his parchments out on his desk, and Malfoy's lip curled disdainfully.
"I never pinned you for a barrister, Potter."
"According to the Ministry's report, you're being charged with dealing narcotics," Harry said icily. He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose.
Malfoy waved his cigarette in the air. "Next I reckon you'll say prostitution is illegal, too."
Harry wasn't going to ask. He absolutely refused to put up with Malfoy's attitude this time, and with the blond clearly having gone round the bend... "Listen, I don't give a toss about what happens to you, but if you want to keep out of prison you'll tell me everything."
Malfoy's cool eyes narrowed. "Talking like a big man now, eh, Potter?" He crossed his legs slowly, deliberately, and the hem of his dress rose over his thighs. Harry's gaze flickered to that pale flesh, then back up at Malfoy's smirk.
"What are you doing?" he demanded. "This isn't some crazy cult thing, is it?"
"It's not a cult, it's a way of life."
"Which is a cult," Harry insisted.
Malfoy bared his teeth. He was still strangely attractive, in that deathly pale sort of way. Three years, two jobs, a dead Voldemort, and an ostracized Lucius later, and he still left Harry on the verge of a murderous rampage in a way that no one else had. Maybe it had been that way for Malfoy, too.
"What are you thinking about, Potter?" Malfoy asked quietly.
"Only about how great it will be to finally see you put away for good."
Harry didn't bother hiding the disgust in his tone. Malfoy's smile was sharp. "I thought you were supposed to defend me." He pulled the bow out of his hair. It stretched out into a long, silk ribbon. All that head-tossing and eyebrow twitching would have been seductive if he wasn't nutters and in a dress.
"Malfoy," Harry started. "Tell me about the drugs."
"It's amazing the kinds of things you see while tripping. Sometimes you feel like your mind is perfectly clear." Harry hoped this was going somewhere. Malfoy uncrossed his pale legs, and-- oh, crap, Malfoy was hard. Harry swallowed thickly. He snapped back to attention just as Malfoy was saying, "And that's when you think, where did all these rabbits come from, and why does the room smell like piss?"
"Er," Harry said.
"I thought about you a lot, Potter; I remembered the way we used to fight. The way I wanted to strangle you with that stupid Gryffindor scarf you always wore."
"Or the way I wanted to poke out your eyes with your head boy badge?" Harry asked slowly.
The glint in Malfoy's eyes reminded Harry of that teenage boy he had hated. Still hated. Harry shifted in his seat slightly, realising with a growing horror that he, too, was hard. Heat pooled in his belly. "Am I making you uncomfortable?" Malfoy asked, in what shouldn't have been a sexy tone, but it made Harry's face redden.
"You're wearing a dress and talking about doing me in," Harry said. This entire situation was ridiculous. He had more dignity than-- than Malfoy.
As usual, Malfoy wasn't listening to a thing he was saying. He had never fantasized about kissing Malfoy back when they had been at Hogwarts, but now when Malfoy crawled over his desk and grabbed his head he decided that maybe it wasn't such a bad idea. The thin, pale lips were soft beneath his, and Malfoy's mouth opened easily. He slid the palms of his hands against Harry's chest-- not pushing him away, but not pulling him closer, either. Harry tugged Malfoy the rest of the way over the desk; the blond fell to the hardwood floor, and Harry stumbled out of his chair to rest beside him.
"You're such a prat," Harry hissed, then he slipped his hand up Malfoy's dress. Malfoy was wearing cotton briefs. The flesh of his thighs was hard and cool, but his cock pulsed hotly under Harry's hand.
"Ah, Potter," Malfoy groaned. He pushed his legs an obscene distance apart. Blindly, his hand reached out and grabbed Harry's erection. Harry yelped. A long stroke, and Harry had thought he had been hard before-- "Don't say I never did anything nice for you."
His hand fumbled at the zipper of Harry's Muggle trousers. He pulled it down slowly. "Yeah," Harry breathed, "I'll be sure to tell Ron and Hermione next time I see them."
"Never say the weasel's name while your hands are below the equator again," Malfoy threatened.
Harry's hand quickened to match Malfoy's pace. It was like watching a Muggle porn flick, seeing his hand moving under Malfoy's dress. This entire situation was insane; he was getting off with *Malfoy* on his office *floor*, when he should have been grilling him for details on his arrest. Then Malfoy's fingers flicked over the head of his cock, and he forgot why he was supposed to be upset.
His hand was starting to ache. "Malfoy," he said, sweating, "come on, come--" His mind blanked. "Come for me, ferret."
"Ferret!" Malfoy squeaked, and Harry's wrist and lower arm were sprayed. He watched as Malfoy threw his head back, his mouth forming a surprised circle. Malfoy's normally pale face was splotched with pink.
When his breathing had returned to normal, Malfoy sneered and grabbed a hold of Harry's cock again. His fingers were thin and bony. "When I see you again, I'm going to hang you from the ceiling by your scarf. I'm going to bash in you head with your broom, I'm going to-- to fuck you with your wand, which, dare I say, is clearly not eleven inches."
That wasn't sexy in the least bit, but the crazed look in Malfoy's eyes was just enough to push Harry over. He let out a choked cry as Malfoy pushed him down and sat on his thighs, then, to his surprise, Malfoy leaned over and slid his tongue across Harry's cock. "Meep!" was all he came out with, and he banged on his head on the floor, hard. As he came he saw a flash of brilliant white light. Hearts and stars and flowers danced across the backs of his closed eyelids. He could have sworn he heard birds chirping and small children at play. Great, he thought, sex with Malfoy has driven me nutters.
When his sight returned to normal he looked up into Malfoy's cruel grin.
"I think you've ruined my dress, Potter."
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.