The Locker Room

Solo Play

Harry Apparates home, tired and grubby from today's work. Auror training is exhausting. He's been a trainee for two years now. Just a few more months until he'll get his certificate.

Ron is a trainee too and he counts himself lucky to be able to have him both as a best friend as well as a working partner.

As Harry grabs a few left-overs from his fridge to warm up, he thinks of his other colleagues. Or one in particular, actually. Draco Malfoy. The other ones don't really matter. There's Mike, a tall brown haired guy. Then there's Marissa, a tough looking blonde girl with glasses. Bob, Gregor and Dougal, three Scottish guys. And Maxim, the African wizard who just moved here. But none of them look even remotely like Draco Malfoy does.

Because Draco Malfoy is both unrealisticly beautiful as well as aggravatingly hot and Harry often has trouble keeping himself focussed at the task at hand when the git's around. When Malfoy was accepted into Auror training, everyone, including himself, was surprised to say the least, that they let him in. It was only a couple of months after the war and Malfoy was shy and very uneasy.

It was new to Harry, as he only knew the git as cocky, arrogant and haughty and he'd also seen him afraid and desperate, but definitely not like this. This shy and timid guy who'd never hold eye contact for longer than a second with anyone. They all thought he wouldn't last as a trainee. But within only a few days he proved to be an incredibly capable dueller and very skilled problem solver. And in those few days Harry discovered he was into blokes. Only one bloke actually. Malfoy.

Harry eats his plateful of left-overs in the kitchen, too tired to make the table for himself.

How did he not notice Malfoy like he does now, when they were in Hogwarts? He's so fucking beautiful he sometimes has to remember to close his damn mouth when the git's explaining or showing him something. Oh well, it probably has to do something with having to fight a dark lord back then. He didn't really have the brain capacity to even think about who he fancies or wants to have sex with.

Harry flushes at the thought of the platinum blonde beauty today. He had almost embarrassed himself immensely in Malfoy's presence. They had combat practise this morning. Of all trainees, Malfoy was his opponent and he was looking like a snack.

He was wearing a white a-shirt that fitted snugly around his chest and abs. Malfoy's muscular, but a lean kind of muscular. Not bulky, not broad shouldered, but just perfect. He could see Malfoy's nipples, two hard little nubs, through his shirt, but only if he paid attention. Which he obviously did. He had to tear his eyes away or he definitely would have started drooling. And to make it worse, Malfoy wore grey tights that didn't leave anything to Harry's imagination.

Merlin, it was fucking torture, really. He had for real wondered how the fuck he was going to survive this morning.

Barely an hour later, Malfoy was shirtless and sweaty, opposite of him and challenging him. His abs were tensing and relaxing with every breath. Harry had been half-hard throughout the whole training and was very happy he wore tight boxer briefs under his loose shorts. Malfoy didn't notice his predicament, although he came quite close when he wrestled Harry to the ground when he was distractedly looking at Malfoy's dark pink nipples - again.

Harry was too shocked and too busy with angling his hips away from Malfoy to put up much of a fight, so within seconds Malfoy had him face down on the mat, his arm twisted cruelly behind his back. Having Malfoy on top of him made his brain short circuit and his cock go rock hard and he thanked Merlin, Salazar and every other famous wizard for being on his belly so no one saw. It was the only time he didn't care much that Malfoy actually beat him.

Just thinking about it makes his cock twitch with interest again. Fuck, he definitely needs a wank later, Harry decides.

And after training, in the lockers room, he almost, almost assaulted the blonde. The git was just done showering when Harry came in, and he had the nerve to walk over to his locker with his towel loosely in one hand, not really bothering to cover up his dripping wet naked body. Harry had full view of his spectacular arse, firm and muscular. Fuck, he wanted to pry those cheeks apart and eat him out for hours. They made eye contact for just a second, Harry mumbling a quick congratulations on winning and then darting into a shower stall. Oh, how he had wanted to push Malfoy up against a wall and fuck him silly.