Day 9 – Choking
It had started like all their other fights—a heated exchange of insults in an empty corridor, voices echoing off the cold stone walls of the castle. Harry could feel the familiar burn of anger building in his chest, his fists clenched tightly at his sides as Draco smirked at him from a few feet away, his silver eyes gleaming with challenge.
"You always think you're so bloody perfect, don't you, Potter?" Draco sneered, his voice dripping with venom. "The Chosen One, Saint Potter, always trying to play the hero."
"Shut up, Malfoy," Harry snapped, his voice shaking with barely controlled fury. He could feel the tension in the air, the way it crackled between them like a live wire. Every time he was around Draco, it was like this—an overwhelming need to prove something, to win.
But today, the usual tension between them had taken a darker, more dangerous turn.
Draco took a step closer, his smirk widening as he leaned in, his voice dropping to a low, mocking tone. "Touched a nerve, did I? Poor Potter, always so angry. Maybe that's because deep down, you know you'll never be enough."
Before he could stop himself, Harry lunged forward, grabbing Draco by the front of his robes and slamming him against the wall. The force of it sent a sharp crack through the corridor, and for a moment, Draco's eyes widened in surprise. But that shock quickly faded, replaced by something darker, more heated.
"You don't know a damn thing about me," Harry growled, his face inches from Draco's, his breath hot against Draco's cheek.
Draco's lips curled into a smirk, even as Harry's grip tightened on his robes. "Hit a little too close to home, didn't I?"
Something inside Harry snapped. Without thinking, his hand shot up to Draco's throat, his fingers wrapping around the pale skin, pressing against the pulse point there. Draco gasped, his hands instinctively reaching up to grab Harry's wrist, but he didn't try to pull him away. Instead, his breath hitched, his eyes darkening as Harry's grip tightened.
"Shut up," Harry muttered, his voice low and dangerous as he pressed Draco harder against the wall. He could feel Draco's pulse racing beneath his fingers, the rapid rise and fall of his chest as his breath came in short, shallow bursts.
Draco's lips parted, but instead of fear, there was something else in his eyes now—something that sent a jolt of electricity through Harry's body. Draco's gaze was locked on Harry's, his expression a mixture of defiance and something far more primal.
"You like this, don't you?" Harry growled, his voice rough as his fingers tightened around Draco's throat, cutting off his air just enough to make his eyes flutter slightly. "You like being put in your place."
Draco didn't answer, but the way his body responded—the way his hips jerked slightly, pressing against Harry's—was answer enough. A low, breathy sound escaped Draco's lips, and Harry's heart skipped a beat as he realized what was happening.
The fight had shifted, twisted into something else entirely.
Harry's grip tightened further, his thumb pressing against Draco's windpipe as he leaned in closer, his breath hot against Draco's ear. "You're not going to be so smug now, are you?"
Draco's head tilted back, his throat exposed, and Harry could feel the way his pulse raced beneath his fingers, the way his breath hitched with every movement. Draco's hands were still on Harry's wrist, but he wasn't pushing him away. Instead, he was gripping Harry's arm tightly, as if he didn't want him to stop.
"Is this what you wanted?" Harry muttered, his voice rough with a mix of anger and arousal as his other hand slid down Draco's chest, fingers digging into the fabric of his robes. "You wanted to get me worked up, to push me until I couldn't hold back?"
Draco's eyes were half-lidded now, his breath coming in short, shallow gasps as Harry's fingers squeezed his throat just a little harder. "Fuck—" Draco gasped, his voice raspy, his lips parting as he struggled to breathe. But there was no fear in his expression. If anything, the heat between them only intensified.
Harry's body trembled with a strange, dark thrill as he watched Draco—pinned against the wall, gasping for breath, his eyes dark with a mix of desire and defiance. The power he felt in that moment was overwhelming, and it made his blood sing.
"Shut up," Harry growled, his hand sliding lower, over Draco's chest, his fingers working to undo the buttons of Draco's robes. He could feel the heat radiating off Draco's body, the way his chest heaved with every shallow breath. "You don't get to talk right now."
Draco's hands slid down Harry's arm, his fingers curling around Harry's wrist as he tried to catch his breath, but Harry's grip on his throat never wavered. Draco's eyes fluttered shut for a moment, his head falling back against the wall, and Harry could see the faint flush spreading across Draco's cheeks, the way his lips parted in a soft, breathy moan.
Harry's own breath came in short, sharp bursts as he worked Draco's robes open, pushing the fabric aside to reveal the pale, smooth skin beneath. His hand slid lower, down Draco's chest, over the hard lines of his abdomen, until his fingers brushed the waistband of Draco's trousers.
Draco's hips jerked forward at the contact, a soft, choked gasp escaping his lips as Harry's hand dipped lower, palming the growing bulge between Draco's legs. The sensation of Draco's cock, already hard and straining against the fabric, sent a jolt of heat through Harry's body, and he pressed harder against Draco's throat, his thumb digging into the soft flesh just beneath Draco's jaw.
"You're so hard for me," Harry muttered, his voice low and dangerous as he rubbed his palm against Draco's cock, feeling the way Draco's body trembled beneath him. "You like this, don't you? Being choked while I touch you."
Draco's response was a low, breathy moan, his hips bucking forward as Harry's hand pressed harder, rubbing slow, deliberate circles over his cock. His hands tightened around Harry's wrist, but he still didn't push him away. Instead, he pulled Harry closer, his body trembling with need.
Harry's grip on Draco's throat tightened again, and he could feel the way Draco's breath hitched, the way his body arched against the wall, desperate for more. The power Harry felt in that moment—the control he had over Draco's body, the way he could make him gasp for air and moan with pleasure at the same time—was intoxicating.
"Fuck—Harry—" Draco gasped, his voice rough and breathless as his head tilted back, his throat exposed and vulnerable. "Don't stop—"
Harry's hand worked Draco's trousers open, sliding inside to grip Draco's cock, the heat of it burning against his palm. Draco's entire body jerked at the contact, a choked moan escaping his lips as Harry's fingers wrapped around him, stroking him with slow, firm movements.
"Such a mess for me," Harry muttered, his voice low and commanding as his hand moved faster, stroking Draco's cock with rough, unrelenting precision. "You act like you're so tough, but look at you. Look how quickly you fall apart."
Draco's eyes fluttered open, his gaze locking onto Harry's, dark and full of need. His breath came in shallow, ragged gasps, his chest heaving with the effort of trying to catch his breath while Harry's hand squeezed his throat. There was something primal in Draco's expression, a silent plea mixed with defiance, as if daring Harry to push him further, to see how far they could go.
Harry's grip around Draco's throat tightened, and the reaction was immediate. Draco's body tensed, his eyes widening slightly as the air was cut off, his lips parting in a desperate, soundless gasp. The power in that moment surged through Harry like a wave, and his own breath came faster, his arousal pulsing through his veins.
"You like this, don't you?" Harry whispered, his voice low, rough, as his other hand slid down Draco's chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart under his fingertips. "Being at my mercy."
Draco's eyes were half-lidded now, his lips curling into a faint smirk, despite the obvious strain of being choked. His hips jerked slightly, pressing against Harry's body as if to answer without words, his need for this—this dangerous, electric tension—clear in every movement.
Harry's hand tightened further around Draco's throat, his thumb pressing firmly against the soft skin just beneath Draco's jaw, and he could feel the pulse there, fast and erratic. Draco's breath hitched, a low, guttural sound escaping him as he struggled to breathe. But he didn't pull away. He didn't ask Harry to stop.
Instead, Draco's fingers dug into Harry's arm, his grip tight and desperate, as if holding onto Harry was the only thing keeping him grounded. His body trembled with the effort of balancing on the edge of pleasure and pain, and Harry knew—he knew—Draco was lost in it, consumed by the sensation.
"Fuck," Harry breathed, his hand sliding lower, over the waistband of Draco's trousers, his fingers curling around Draco's already hardening cock. Draco's body jerked at the contact, a soft, breathless moan escaping his lips as Harry's hand stroked him slowly, deliberately.
"You're such a mess," Harry growled, his voice thick with arousal as he stroked Draco harder, his hand moving in time with the steady pressure of his fingers around Draco's throat. "Look at you, falling apart while I choke you."
Draco's lips parted, a low, breathy sound escaping him, but he couldn't speak. The pressure around his throat was too much, his breath coming in short, shallow gasps as Harry's hand squeezed just a little tighter. The sensation of Harry's fingers around his cock, the rough friction against his sensitive skin, combined with the lack of air, sent Draco spiraling further, his body trembling violently.
"You're going to come again, aren't you?" Harry muttered, his voice rough with desire as his hand moved faster, stroking Draco with rough, unrelenting precision. "I can feel it. You're already so close."
Draco's head fell back, his eyes fluttering shut as his body arched against the wall, his chest heaving as he fought for air. The pleasure was too much, the pressure on his throat sending shockwaves of heat through him, and Harry's grip on his cock, the way he stroked him with such deliberate intensity, was pushing him to the edge faster than he could stop it.
"Come for me," Harry growled, his fingers tightening around Draco's throat, cutting off his air completely as he stroked him harder, faster. "I want you to come while you can't breathe."
Draco's entire body tensed, his hips bucking forward into Harry's hand as he gasped, a choked, broken sound escaping his lips. His cock pulsed in Harry's hand, his release hitting him with a force that left him trembling, his mind going blank with the intensity of it.
Harry's grip on Draco's throat loosened slightly, letting him gasp for air as his body shuddered through his orgasm, his release spilling over Harry's fingers, coating them in hot, slick warmth. Draco's breath came in short, desperate bursts, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath, his body still trembling with the aftershocks.
For a long moment, neither of them moved, the only sound in the room the harsh, ragged breaths they both struggled to control. Harry's hand slipped away from Draco's throat, but he didn't move far, his fingers lingering on Draco's neck, feeling the rapid beat of his pulse beneath his skin.
Draco's head fell forward, his forehead resting against Harry's shoulder as he gasped for breath, his body spent, his legs shaking from the intensity of his release. Harry's hand slid down Draco's back, tracing the line of his spine, his touch surprisingly gentle after the roughness of what had just transpired.
"Are you okay?" Harry whispered, his voice softer now, concern creeping into his tone despite the heat still coursing through his veins.
Draco let out a soft, breathless laugh, his body trembling slightly as he leaned against Harry for support. "Better than okay," he muttered, his voice hoarse from the pressure on his throat. He pulled back slightly, just enough to meet Harry's gaze, his silver eyes still dark with lingering desire. "I knew you had it in you, Potter."
Harry's lips curled into a small, satisfied smile, though his heart was still racing. He brushed a thumb gently over the faint marks on Draco's throat, the evidence of what had just happened, and something about the way Draco looked right now—flushed, breathless, and completely undone—made Harry's blood run hot again.
"You're a bloody menace," Harry muttered, though there was no bite to the words.
Draco smirked, his lips curving into that familiar, smug expression. "You're just mad that you enjoyed it."
Harry's eyes darkened slightly, his hand still resting on Draco's throat. "I enjoyed it because you did."
Draco's gaze flickered, his smirk fading slightly, replaced by something softer, more vulnerable. He leaned in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to Harry's lips, his breath still uneven as he pulled back just enough to murmur against Harry's mouth, "Maybe I should provoke you more often."
Harry chuckled softly, his arms sliding around Draco's waist, pulling him closer. "Maybe you should."