Inell's Fanfiction Archive

Harry always keeps his eyes open. He likes to watch Blaise on his knees, full lips around his cock, dark skin against pale, smooth palms gripping his arse. Blaise is beautiful, if a man can ever be considered such. Tall, slender, graceful. He doesn't remember how it began. Long fingers wrap around his wrist, pull him into an abandoned class or empty hallway, wall against his back, trousers unzipped and wet lips around his cock before he has a chance to offer a word of protest. He watches Blaise lick and suck, watches the Slytherin stroke and tease, watches his seed spill into an eager mouth, and he feels happy before he pushes Blaise to the ground and returns the favor.