Saturday, 31 December 2011

DC: Christmas Cuppa

Hello, happy New Year! I've started writing for The Reticule and I'm still looking for a job, so I simply don't have the time to blog. But still, here's a New Year's special. This is not safe for work. This is not safe for anyone. This is a Harry Potter slashfic. This was emailed to me. This is going to hurt.

"How is this a Christmas gift?" [One thing I'll say for this is that it's not very long. Thank god.]

"Well, that's not all there is to it!" [That phrase will come back to haunt your memories forevermore.]

"It had better not be all there is," Draco [I'll give you three guesses as to who the other person is, and the first two don't count] warned irritably as he examined the strange plastic bottle with the weird straw. [Because he's obviously never seen a plastic bottle and a straw before, what with him having come from Pluto and everything.]

"It's not [ :( ]. Now hand it to me."

"It's not just that it's... whatever this is..."

"It's coffee, Draco." [DUN DUN DUUUUUUN.]

"Coffee?" he asked as he felt the sides of it and swirled it a bit. "Coffee? But it's... cold [he's obviously never had iced coffee]. And I don't even drink coffee [trust me, that's not what's going to be happening with it], Harry [I told you the first two guesses don't count]. Let alone in... what the fuck is this [it's a fucking cup, Draco. It's. A. Fucking. Cup. Fucking hell, fanfic writers...]?" he questioned as he flicked the bent plastic protrusion [hur hur], causing it to weakly rotate.

"It's room temperature, yes [it must be a cold room then]. But it's not for you to drink [ :( ]. Give it back," Harry said, holding his hand out impudently.

Draco huffed and his mouth gaped in incredulity [that's a big word for a squickficcer]. "Let me get this straight [I see what you did there. So will you, dear reader, in a minute], Harry because I don't want to miss a syllable of this. For Christmas you bought me a cup of cold coffee, which I don't drink, but I'm not to drink anyways [yeah, an American or a poorly-educated Englishman wrote this. It's 'anyway' there is no 's' on the end. End of discussion]. Served it in a container I wouldn't use [containers are for pussies]... and now you're asking to have it back? And this, I reiterate, is my Christmas present." [Best. Christmas. Ever.]

"Yes. Give it back."

"Who's going to drink it then?"

"I am." [Best. Boyfriend. Ever.]

Nostrils flaring in absolute exasperation, Draco shoved it back into Harry's hand. "Fine."

"Thank you, Draco. Now, take off your clothes." [We both knew this was going to happen, dear reader.]

"So you want me naked while you drink my tepid Christmas coffee through a straw." [Truly, Hogwarts teaches such perversions that private schools can only dream of.]

In his mirth, Harry had to press his lips together to keep from dissolving into giggles [people being out-of-character is the least of our concerns here]. Draco really had no clue [I do, but I've had to read this already. THE THINGS I DO FOR YOU]. "I'm not drinking it out of this container [I do hope the hints aren't too subtle for anyone to get]. Now take off your clothes."

"Harry, look. I realize that your childhood being what it was you might not understand the concept of Christmas and giving [hello, canon. I don't suppose you'll be staying]. But I can assure you--

"Shut up and take off your clothes or we'll be well into the New Year before you strip in my presence again!" [Bye bye, canon.] Harry snapped. This was an idle threat, but one that clearly Draco believed. For a moment the Slytherin simply sneered at Harry as if trying to measure out how seriously he should take this threat. Judging Harry's impassive face to be serious, Draco tetchily disrobed. [Right. What follows isn't something you'll probably want to read. I mean that. I won't be upset if you close this window. I wish I could close it myself. If you want to go on, make sure you're not drinking coffee.]

"Good boy, Draco. Now bend over the desk." [He's such a romantic.]

"Bend over the desk?" he asked as he contemptuously peered around the conveniently vacant classroom. "My Christmas present is you fucking me while drinking my cold Christmas coffee? [that would be a godsend compared to what's going to happen] Look, I realize [American] I must be hard to shop for, but it hurts my feelings that you didn't try at all, Harry." [What's wrong with socks and aftershave?]

Harry didn't argue. He just stood there, holding the plastic bottle with a stern look on his face that continued to say his threat of no sex still applied. Draco dropped his head back and made a quick appeal to the gods that went predictably unanswered [oh gee, I wonder why]. Without divine intervention to guide him, the naked Slytherin did the only thing he could do; he turned around and bent over the desk. [As you do.]

"Thank you," Harry said pleasantly as he stepped up behind Draco and then knelt down to his knees. The Gryffindor was prepared for resistance [you don't have to be drunk to read this, but it helps. I wish I was], but he'd wanted this to be a surprise. He was pretty sure that if he'd told Draco what he'd intended that he'd never even get this far. [Probably not, no.]

Setting the bottle down, Harry affectionately nuzzled his face against Draco's cheeks. That, at least, was better as far as Draco was concerned [just you wait. JUST YOU WAIT]. As he felt the cleft of his ass parted, he relaxed his torso down against the desk. Harry had never done this before, although it wasn't Draco's first time to receive this treatment [because EVERY Harry Potter fanfic has to have Draco take it up the bottom]. He reasoned that since he hadn't heard Harry's zipper come down, and since he was, in fact, kneeling behind him, that he was to be the recipient of a rim job [LITTLE DOES HE KNOW]. The flaxen-haired boy wasn't sure what the purpose of the coffee was. Perhaps Potter wasn't sure if he could keep awake? [Now that's just mean.]

All concerns about the tepid drink in the plastic bottle drifted away as Harry's languid tongue laved over Draco's wanton hole [oh god]. Crossing his arms in front of him, Draco rested his forehead against his hands, groaning and whimpering at the sleek tongue that tasted the rim of his sphincter. "Mmm... Merlin, Harry, that's nice." That was more like it. Way more like it. [Wait for it...]

Abruptly, the tender tongue trailed off its taunting and Draco opened his eyes and stared at the black grain of the desk beneath him wonder where Harry went. There was still no zipper sound; maybe he was having some coffee? "Harry?" [Wait for it...]

Draco brows furrowed in confusion as he felt something non-organic being pushed inside of him [here we go]. Harry had never been known to use toys before, but perhaps the true present was some manner of anal plug? Beads? Magic, vibrating- good lord what was that?

[Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to hell.]

Eyes widening before he flipped his head up and then whirled to look back at Harry, Draco had no idea why he was suddenly feeling so uncomfortably... full [oh GOD]. Something tepid and wet and [ :( ]-"YOU'RE PUMPING COFFEE INTO MY MY... MY... MY?!?" he screeched unable to vocalize where coffee was going. [Yeah. There. In case you're slow.]

"Don't make me silence you with my wand." [Hur hur. Wait, is that even a euphemism? I can't tell any more, badfics have ruined me forever.]

"I think you're going to HAVE to silence me with your wand if you don't explain RIGHT NOW what is going on!" Draco squalled. [Horror is going on. Pure. Horror. The Human Centipede 3: Coffee Harder.]

With a patient insistence, Harry carried on squeezing the plastic container, pushing the hand-made organic coffee into the bewildered blonde's beleaguered orifice [not 'bumhole'? You're not even trying]. "It's called a coffee enema, Draco."


"Well, Muggles do it, mostly [the weird ones do]. It cleans you out on the inside [I don't want my insides cleaned]. You put the fluid in and give it some time to clean you and then you let it back out [ :( ]. A coffee enema is supposed to be detoxifying. It will help your liver." [I hope his liver catches fire.]

The internal pressure was mounting and one of the Slytherin's hands snaked down to massage his sore [no, not THAT] abdomen in an attempt to relieve the discomfort. His silver eyes [fairly certain that's not normal] glared furiously at Harry. "What? Muggle practice? Liver? I DON'T NEED TO BE DETOXIFIED! THIS FUCKING HURTS!" [As the brain said to the rest of the body.]

Harry glared back at him and repeated two key words to Draco, "New Year." [I'm celebrating with alcohol and it's going down my throat. So there.]

Slamming his fist against the desk angrily, he narrowed his eyes but was left with only one thing to say, "Pfft." [That's not really a word.] And with that out of the way, he whisked back around and pressed his flushed cheek against the cool of the table.

Harry was finished with the plastic enema bottle so he tenderly pulled it out of Draco and cast it carelessly aside. "Now normally you'd have to wait ten to twenty minutes-" [0.0]

"Twenty minutes?" Draco cried out in a shrill tone. [I don't blame him.]

"As I was saying, normally you'd have to wait that long, but I'll still need you to hold onto it."



"Holding," Draco whined against the desk. Then there it was again. His cheeks pulled apart and that delicate tongue taunting his opening. Didn't Harry know how hard it was to "hold it" when he was doing that? [I've actually no idea.] Malfoy had long since given in on being bottom, but he'd never known Harry to be a sadist. "Harry..."

Harry slipped his tongue into Draco's thickly puckered opening. [I'm never going near anything ever again.] His lips formed as much of a seal around it as he could manage and then he began to swallow. [Yes. The coffee. That's been up his bottom. Along with everything else that's been up there. This makes 2 Girls 1 Cup seem normal.] One hand moved around the astonished giftee and encircled his responding length. Draco had no idea how in the world Harry expected him to "hold on" while he was doing that. The cunning boy realized that if he did release the coffee, not only would he have a very unhappy and doused lover, that delicious tongue would stop... doing... that. [Please make this stop.]

The golden boy was swallowing as fast as he could, but the soiled coffee [AAAAAAAAGH] overflowed the corners of his lips and dribbled down to pool in the hollows of his collarbones [I'm going to go to my happy place in a minute]. But Christmas was the time of giving [not like that], and Harry was giving this present his all, messiness be damned. Flicking and delving his tongue into the tight passage, he sucked down the potently thickened fluid, licked the smooth inner walls of Draco and pumped feverishly at the luridly pink prick in his hand. [Sod going to my happy place, I'm going to pass out in a minute.]

The hard-working brunet was glad that coffee was such a compelling taste that he wasn't made aware of what all else was coming down with it [HOW CAN YOU NOT BE AWARE OH GOD OH GOD NOOOOOOOOOO WHY]. The odd occasional chunk or seedy bit of something gushing over his tongue was on the cusp of making him gag [I'm in my happy place.
I'm in my happy place. I'm in my happy place. I'm in my happy place. I'm in my happy place. I'm in my happy place. I'm in my happy place. I'm in my happy place. I'm in my happy place. I'm in my happy place. I'm in my happy place. I'm in my happy place. I'm in my happy place. I'm in my happy place. I'm in my happy place], but instead he concentrated on what Draco must be feeling.

The sensations pouring through Draco were bordering on ecstasy. His swollen abdomen was starting to feel relief as the strain eased, and the remaining liquid was pressuring his pulsating prostate [god, this guy loves alliteration]. Harry's hand thrumming ["thrumming"] his now furious erection was overwhelming him and he tried desperately not to rut into it lest he stop "holding it."

On top of that was the sucking and pulling and undulating tongue of none other than the bespectacled boy who lived behind him ["lived", what?]. The overwhelming physical sensations, coupled with the euphoria of the caffeine so enthusiastically flushing his system through his anal membranes tripped his nerves into super sensitivity threw Draco into a fervent orgasm.

Great globs of glistening white ooze spurted spectacularly [oh for god's sake. Whatever your teachers told you about alliteration, they're wrong] against the dusty dark desk [...] as Harry continued to lick and suck inside Draco. While normally at this point Draco would be drained and tired, due to the lasting effects of the caffeine he felt jittery and elated. He panted hard, fogging up the counter. The spent Slytherin attempted to come down as he watched the breath mark evaporate gradually before his abnormally widened eyes. "For the love of Merlin, Potter!" [FOR THE LOVE OF GOD WHY.]

Pulling his nose and misted glasses from Draco's backside, Harry grabbed a small towel he'd concealed in his robes and soaked up the excess coffee he'd failed to drink and then dabbed off Draco's quivering legs. "And that is your Christmas present." [Worst. Christmas. Present. Ever.]

God... Well, 'Happy New Year'. I'd be lying if I said that hasn't ruined everything in the world forever.


SF said...

Holy crap...WTF is this?

Teddy Leach said...

It is Hell.

SF said...

I think we just unlocked the 19th circle of Hell.

SF said...

Reading this, I actually decided to search for "2 Girls 1 Cup". I am forever scarred.

Jaisal Jivabhai said...

I now use this story as a way to hilariously scar people for life. Thank you <3

Alex said...

0.0 ...Think about happy place... No coffee-to-bumhole sex... No twisting of canon in a way that makes me want to claw my eyes out... Now I realise why people get screwed up, they read this... No Harry fucking Draco... NONE OF IT. *sobs*

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