Shower

Title: Shower
Main Character: Draco Malfoy
Ship(s): You choose
Genre: PWP
Summary: Draco's innocent fun in the shower.
Warning: Sexual content
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.'

The strong, musky scent of steam opened Draco's nostrils, allowing him to breathe properly for what felt like the first time that day. The heavily falling hot water felt wonderful massaging his muscles that were still aching from the tiring flight. Draco had surrendered to the Quidditch showers rather than wandered the long corridors back to the Slythering dormitories. They were luckily vacant; the rest of the student body was dining in the Great Hall at this time.

Draco gave into the pleasure generated by the rushing water. He closed his eyes - not that he would have seen anything anyway; the showers were filled with opaque vapor.

Through the loud falling of the water, Draco thought he heard the door of the showers click softly. He tensed slightly, but dismissed the suspicion almost at once. No one had been at the pitch earlier, so why would anybody come in? His ears were probably just toying with him. It had probably just been an unusual splash of water.

Suddenly Draco's lips quirked. What if someone had indeed come in? And spotted him enjoying the shower like no tomorrow. He gave a soft chuckle, as more thrilling scenes emerged in his mind. What if the door had been opened by a certain someone. Someone he was dying to be with alone in the shower.

His Slytherin character realized something: he was alone in the showers and no one was likely to come in. He could do what he pleased. Why not enjoy a refreshing wank?

He let out an excitement-filled chortle and grabbed his biceps. He began to sensually rub himself, moving down along the arms, careful not to miss a single spot. He liked touching himself all around, letting the excitement build by slowing the process.

He returned to the image of the door again. The mysterious someone carefully closed the door, quite and tense like an animal awaiting its prey, careful so that Draco wouldn't hear him. Of course, since this was all taking place in Draco's head, he was aware of the boy trying to creep up on him. But he decided to have all the fun he could and let the intruder keep his surprise.

Draco's body started to tingle as he imagined tanned feet tiptoeing across the tiled floor. He transferred his hands to his chest now, pinching his nipples and finally proceeding to his stomach. He imagined the boy step right behind him.

Something felt warm behind him. He was almost sure he had heard a light, but eager breath; somebody's pant on the back of his neck. Draco ran his fingers down his abs zealously, thinking of the boys hands upon him, passionately rubbing and squeezing. He felt a faint touch on his back and stiffened.

Someone was standing behind him, Draco was convinced of it. He attempted to open his eyes, but was distracted as the person's naked body pushed against his back, taking him into his stong, muscular arms. "Mhh..." Draco sighed, but then whimpered, for the someone had bitten into his shoulder. The reaction was curious: pain mixed with immense pleasure, that sent crazy shivers down his spine.

The unknown intruder proceeded to send little bites here and there, simultaneously massaging Draco's thighs and the sensitive skin near his groin. Draco's cock was already hard as the boy grabbed it, and only became harder at the rhythmic stroke of the boy's hand. Draco moaned with desire and pushed behind to dispel any open air left between his body and the boy's. The hand around his bulging cock advanced its pace, causing Draco to whimper again.

He was achingly hard and ready to come, and it took only the finaly stroke from to boy to send semen shooting out of his proverbial.

Who the hell is it? Draco opened hie eyes, but water got into them and he was forced to shut them. The hands had now left the sensitive area between his legs and tickled themselves up his chest, lingering a bit on his nipples before abandoning him completely. Draco's back felt a cool rush of air as the source of warmth withdrew.

It took his mind another few seconds to comprehend what had happened. Someone had actually been there, showered with him, touched him...

He turned the water off and quickly turned around, only to see a raven-haired head disappear through the door.

Chaos

Title: Chaos
Challenge: Fanfic 100
Fandom: Harry Potter
Characters: Percy Weasley/Oliver Wood
Prompt: #058 Dinner
Word Count: 439
Rating: PG
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.'
Author's Notes: Flipping from Oliver's to Percy's POV was intentional. Not the best choice in such a short story, but I thought it suited quite well.

The most disastrous decision he could ever recall having made was deciding to cook dinner that night. Oliver was no cook: he should have known from scoring Dreadful from Potions, that the wisest thing for him was to stay far away from cauldrons. He was no reader either, and following simple instructions, such as recipes, was something that required more than his amount of patience.

By the time Percy came home, the worst had already happened. The kitchen was in chaos: melted globs of food remains sticking from odd spots of the tapestry, bits of blown up kitchen instruments and an awful stench of burning that quickly spread all around the flat. And in the middle of all this, Oliver hastily trying to spell away the disaster before his boyfriend came home.

“Oliver,” Percy said, unable to stop the crinkle of distaste from forming on his nose. Oliver stopped waving his wand and turned around.

“I'm sorry Perce. I'll get it fixed in no time. I'm sorry you had to see this mess,” he rambled apologetically. He threw a few spells at a very sooty bit of tapestry. It only crinkled sadly and remained as black and filthy as before. Oliver got onto his knees and rubbed it with his fingers. “I'm sorry Perce. I'm dreadful at household spells. But I'll wash the soot off the floor and somehow try to wipe it off the tapestry too. And I'll get you some new kitchen stuff.”

Percy didn't move from his place in the doorway. Neither did he reply. He was shocked beyond speech. He clenched his fists.

Oliver kept on ranting as he proceeded to collect bits of junk and drop them in the garbage. “All I wanted was to cook a meal for you and enjoy a nice evening at home. And I managed to ruin everything.”

Percy was angry, and it took all his self-control to refrain from yelling. Yelling was what he was used to doing when he got mad. Yelling was what he should be doing when he noticed that his kitchen had been blown up!

Percy knew Oliver didn't need any shouts from him. He'd already said he was sorry, and his intention had been good. It had even been endearing, in a way. His klutz of a boyfriend had tried to cook for him, although Percy still had to wonder what kind of madness had encouraged him to do so.

“Oliver,” Percy said again, not really finding the words. Their kitchen was in wrecks and their flat would reek of smoke for days, but somehow that wasn't important. “Let's eat out tonight."