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Harry hurriedly pushed between the large crowds gawking at window displays along the narrow streets of Diagon Alley. He needed to get to the bathroom, and he needed to get there now.
The object of his search was discretely located on the corner of a lesser-populated street. Its outside appearance was as well worn and as stonily decrepit as most of the buildings in that Wizarding neighbourhood, but as he stepped inside and allowed his eyes to adjust to the change in glare, he was pleased to see that its interior was modern and functional.
Shiny chrome fittings interspersed the blinding gleam of white porcelain tiles. To his left, hand-basins shone with cleanliness, each having a small cake of perfectly rounded cream soap on an accompanying ledge. One of the taps leaked with an annoying drip that sounded every few seconds.
To the right, five cubicles stood in a row, the doors closed and a dull oaken brown. There was a small gap between the bottom of each door and the floor, just enough space left so feet could be seen if one bent down to look.
At the back of the restroom, two of the four urinals were taken. Harry approached the empty one on the extreme left, and fumbled a moment with his zipper. To his immediate right, a small grey-haired wizard in rumpled purple cloaks finished his business and cast a small disapproving look Harry’s way as he moved towards the sinks. At the other end, a tall, dark haired man wearing floor-length black robes kept his eyes to himself.
Harry blushed and turned away as a cubicle door slammed open behind him, the sound echoing in the pristine environment. From the corner of his eye, he saw the Dark Man move away, his black reflection casting a ghostly impression on the white tiles in front of Harry.
The man who had just exited the cubicle coughed loudly and washed his hands thoroughly, splashing water onto the floor. Harry realised that he had been standing at the urinal for a while with his cock in his hand, so he quickly zipped up. As he turned, he noticed that the room was now empty, but saw a flash of black cloth enter the last cubicle.
Harry turned on the taps of the sink quickly, scrubbing his hands and checking his appearance in the mirror. For once, the mirror had nothing to say about his hair. He looked at the restroom reflected in the mirror. There was no one there.
Turning off the taps and shaking his hands to remove the excess water, he quietly approached the last cubicle. Crouching down slightly and rubbing his hands on his thighs, he saw two shiny black boots. The door was shut, but the tiny shining indicator displayed the ‘Empty’ sign. Taking one last look around the deserted bathroom, Harry gently pushed on the door.
The Dark Man sat on the closed lid of the toilet; his pants pushed down to his ankles, his robes strewn to either side of his body. He casually pumped his purpled erection; a tight, slow grip moving the skin up and down, the thumb occasionally swiping over the moist head.
Harry’s eyes open in wonder. He hurriedly entered the small cubicle and leant back on the door, one hand fumbling with the latch to display the ‘Taken’ sign. The Dark Man continued to stare and, spreading his legs further apart so Harry could see everything, continued to masturbate without concern.
Harry’s eyes narrowed at the sight, and he carefully undid the button of his jeans. The scratch of the zipper being slowly lowered sounded harsh in the dull quiet. He tugged at the sides of his pants, exposing a triangle of curly black hair. The Dark Man watched with interest.
Harry stepped closer, pushing his jeans and underpants down to his knees. He was half-hard and swollen. The Dark Man’s hand stilled mid-pump, an avicarial gleam in his eye. He stretched out his arm towards Harry, his long fingers barely grazing the skin of Harry’s thigh. Harry moved in a final step, his right hand threaded its way into the nape of the Dark Man’s heavy hair and he tugged the head back gently until it was at the right height.
“Suck it,” Harry whispered.
A moment’s pause, then the Man leaned forward slowly, his hands lying placidly on his own thighs. The red tip of his tongue flickered out from between his thin lips and licked the top of Harry’s now erect member. The Man sat back and looked up at Harry with a smirk.
Harry pulled on the Man’s hair harshly.
“Suck it, I said.”
The Man’s eyes narrowed, but he obliged, opening his mouth and allowing Harry’s cock to push into the open space. Harry sighed heavily and placed the palm of his left hand flat on the wall behind the toilet. His upper body curved around the Dark Man head as his fingers started to stroke through the greasy hair.
The Man raised his hands up the back of Harry’s thighs, fingers trailing lightly up and down, up and down, with the same excruciating gentleness as his tongue played on Harry’s prick. Harry pushed himself further into the welcoming mouth, his hips starting to make involuntary movements as the sound of discrete slurping reached his ears. Harry could feel warmth and pull and it was absolute bliss.
His hips started to thrust with vigour as the Dark Man’s fingers clenched his arse, massaging the tight globes that fit perfectly in his hands and pinching the fresh skin.
“Oh yes, you’re the best,” Harry mumbled, aroused and half-lucid. “You suck the best cock. That’s it, suck it,” he encouraged, shivering. This was what he had been craving. His whole being seemed to be centred on his cock, waves of wet pleasure moving up and down his spine.
“Ah, you suck so good,” he moaned, biting his bottom lip as he felt nimble fingers pull and press his arse cheeks. A finger ghosted over his hole and he twitched in eagerness. His hips wanted to move but were kept in place by the tight grip of thumbs pressed into his hipbones.
“Gonna come soon,” Harry murmured, his eyes were closed in ecstasy and his head was thrown back. He could feel the lightening pull of heat and suction on his cock.
Harry thrust, and thrust again. So good. So fucking good. Such talent to be found in such a forbidding aspect. “Gonna come soon, gonna come all over you. Gonna come all down your throat. Gonna come all over your face.”
Without warning, Harry found that he’d been turned around and pushed roughly into the wall, the arm of his glasses cutting into his skin as his face was plastered to the tiles. His hard and heavy cock hit the wall painfully. He felt full enough to burst at any second.
“Not today, Mister Potter.” The silky voice whispering into his ear sent a shiver of anticipation down his spine.
His pants were roughly yanked down to the floor and a strong thigh thrust his legs apart. A hot heavy body pressed into his back – he was inundated by the warring sensations. Cool, smooth tiles caressing his throat and nipples and cock on the front, rough hot cloak scratching into him at the back. He began to pant heavily and his body jerked.
The sound of a cubicle door being shut brought him back to reality. A large hand clamped itself over his mouth as its partner smoothed itself up between his exposed cheeks.
“Shhh,” the Dark Man hissed as two moist fingers inserted themselves into his waiting orifice. Harry moaned softly and the hand clamped down harder on his mouth. The fingers inside him twisted and tweaked, loosening and stroking his eager passage.
The sound of a toilet flushing was heard and heavy, echoing footsteps carried the stranger away from their vicinity. As the taps were turned on, Harry poked his tongue out of his mashed lips and tasted the thin, bitter fluid that coated the Man’s fingers. He whimpered, and waggled his tongue. Three fingers obligingly entered his mouth, and he closed his eyes and sucked on them in appreciation. How he wished he could suck on something different. He needed it, needed to feel a dick throbbing and pulsating in his mouth. He wanted more of that taste, wanted to roll its flavour around his tongue, wanted to savour the feeling of heat and turgid flesh filling his mouth. He began to thrust his hips back, trying to impale himself further on those wonderful fingers that teased him.
The restroom was nearly silent now. Harry could feel the blood rushing into his ears, the pulsing reminiscent of an ocean he’d once seen. He breathed heavily in and out of his nose, mouth sucking wetly, body pushing itself back onto the strong, solid fingers that fucked him steadily. With each thrust, the tip of his long-forgotten erection brushed up against cold porcelain. Hot and cold, wet and dry, full and empty; his body was open and waiting and ready and oh, how he needed it.
He felt a blunt heat test his hole and he bent forward eagerly. He spread his legs as far apart as his jeans would allow him to, and whined as he felt himself being filled with hot, hard cock. The slow steady stretch, the sensation of minute ridges pushing into his skin and engorging his arse, the leak and silky softness of the head opening him and stroking his glands.
A hand moved between his legs and cupped the heavy sac of his balls, rolling, pinching, plucking. Harry’s eyes rolled up in his head and he pushed himself back further, back arching wantonly as he tried to get more into him, get it into him harder and deeper. The strokes penetrated him, sparks appeared as the hard long cock struck him again and again. The fingers had not remove themselves from his mouth, they pressed in harder and he began to deep-throat them as he was pounded from behind. A tight pressure held his hips in place as he was fucked hard and fucked well.
“Don’t make a sound,” the Dark Man breathed into his ear as the hand over his mouth moved and wrapped itself around his swollen prick. The sensation of being both wanked and fucked with precision sent him over the edge, he tried his best to keep quiet, but suspected that he came with a shuddering noise that sounded a bit like laughter and a bit like grief. His thighs tightened up in pain and the muscles in his body convulsed, clenching themselves around the rigid organ still stroking his body. He bit down on the fingers in his throat and the Man hissed in pain but did not stop pounding into him. Within moments, he could feel himself coated on the inside, fluid thick and hot spurting into him.
He sensed, rather than heard, a shaky exhalation from the Dark Man, who carefully withdrew himself from Harry’s lax form. He felt tingly and lethargic and exhilarated. He could feel the Man’s sperm run down his inner leg and wished that he could lick it up.
He heard the sound of paper being torn from the roll as the Man gently wiped up the streaming liquid. More paper, and the Man cleaned himself up. The waste was thrown carefully into the bowl and the toilet flushed. Harry remained close-eyed and panting as the Man fixed his clothing and left the cubicle.
Ten minutes later, Harry entered a coffee shop only four doors down from the restroom. His companion was waiting patiently and sipping a cup of mint tea. Harry sat down gingerly and looked at the menu.
An amused pair of black eyes caught his attention. “I’ve taken the liberty of ordering for you. Coffee – strong, dark and sickeningly sweet.”
Harry smiled at Severus and replied, “Much like yourself, really.”