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Fan Fiction Friday: Harry Potter and Draco in “Christmas Cuppa”


Merry_Christmas_Harry_Potter_by_AdrienneL.jpg

?I know many of you guys are still dealing with work or school or finals. Money’s tight, so gift-giving is probably a little stressful this year too. So why not let FFF help you get into the Christmas spirit? Why not put on some Christmas carols, get a cup of cocoa or maybe even coffee, sit down, and let FFF spray the yuletide spirit all over your face?

“How is this a Christmas gift?”

“Well, that’s not all there is to it!”

“It had better not be all there is,” Draco warned irritably as he examined the strange plastic bottle with the weird straw.

“It’s not. Now hand it to me.”

“It’s not just that it’s… whatever this is…”

“It’s coffee, Draco.”

“Coffee?” he asked as he felt the sides of it and swirled it a bit.
“Coffee? But it’s… cold. And I don’t even drink coffee, Harry. Let
alone in… what the fuck is this?” he questioned as he flicked the bent
plastic protrusion, causing it to weakly rotate.

“It’s room temperature, yes. But it’s not for you to drink. Give it back,” Harry said, holding his hand out impudently.

I think I hear sleigh bells after the jump! Or maybe it’s Toht’s face melting. Let’s go see!


FYI, this story is by an author called charlottesometimes. It makes no difference, except maybe giving you a name to hate later on.

Draco huffed and his mouth gaped in incredulity. “Let me get this straight, 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. Served it in a container I
wouldn’t use… and now you’re asking to have it back? And this, I
reiterate, is my Christmas present.

“Yes. Give it back.”

“Who’s going to drink it then?”

“I am.”

If this were a movie, this would be the moment where the horror music quietly starts.

Nostrils flaring in absolute exasperation, Draco shoved it back into Harry’s hand. “Fine.”

“Thank you, Draco. Now, take off your clothes.”

“So you want me naked while you drink my tepid Christmas coffee through a straw.”

In his mirth, Harry had to press his lips together to keep from
dissolving into giggles. Draco really had no clue. “I’m not drinking it
out of this container. Now take off your clothes.”

I know a few of you have realized what’s about to happen, and are desperately trying to beat yourself unconscious before you read any further. Ho ho ho!

“Harry, look. I realize that your childhood being what it was you might
not understand the concept of Christmas and giving. 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!” 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.

“Good boy, Draco. Now bend over the desk.”

“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? Look, I realize I must be hard to shop for, but it hurts my feelings that you didn’t try at all, Harry.”

Still, it’s more personal than a gift card.

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. Without divine intervention
to guide him, the naked Slytherin did the only thing he could do; he
turned around and bent over the desk.

I admit I’m not the biggest Potter-fan, but they don’t really have separate gods, do they? And even if they do, I have sincere doubts that there’s a god of Christmas presents, sodomy and/or coffee that would be equipped to handle this unique situation.

“Thank you,” Harry said pleasantly as he stepped up behind Draco and
then knelt down to his knees. The Gryffindor was prepared for
resistance, 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.

Setting the bottle down, Harry affectionately nuzzled his face against
Draco’s cheeks. That, at least, was better as far as Draco was
concerned. 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. 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.
The flaxen-haired boy wasn’t sure what the purpose of the coffee was.
Perhaps Potter wasn’t sure if he could keep awake?

Nothing worse than falling asleep in the middle of a rim job. Your nose inevitably ends up right in the anus, every time.

All concerns about the tepid drink in the plastic bottle drifted away as
Harry’s languid tongue laved over Draco’s wanton hole. 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.

I’m kind of sad that I’ve already used a “Chamber of Secrets” joke in an HP fan fic. It’s just so appropriate for any scene of Harry Potter ass play. Harry Potter and the Smelly Hallows just doesn’t have the same ring.

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?”

Draco brows furrowed in confusion as he felt something non-organic being
pushed inside of him. 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?

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. Something tepid and wet and-“YOU’RE PUMPING
COFFEE INTO MY MY… MY… MY?!?” he screeched unable to vocalize where coffee was going.

MERRY FUCKING CHRISTMAS I PUT COFFEE IN YOUR BUTT

“Don’t make me silence you with my wand.”

“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.

“I’m pouring coffee into your anus. What’s not to get?”

With a patient insistence, Harry carried on squeezing the plastic
container, pushing the hand-made organic coffee into the bewildered
blonde’s beleaguered orifice. “It’s called a coffee enema, Draco.”

Admittedly, I hadn’t heard of a coffee enema before this story. It appears to be a real thing that people do, although not used or condoned by any slightly authentic medical professional. So keep that in mind of you want to pour your own pot of Maxwell House in your ass.

“Enema?”

“Well, Muggles do it, mostly. It cleans you out on the inside. 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.”

“It’ll also keep your asshole awake for hours.”

The internal pressure was mounting and one of the Slytherin’s hands
snaked down to massage his sore abdomen in an attempt to relieve the
discomfort. His silver eyes glared furiously at Harry. “What? Muggle
practice? Liver? I DON’T NEED TO BE DETOXIFIED! THIS FUCKING HURTS!”

“Well, I’m sorry you don’t like your present, but returning it is going to be a bitch.”

Harry glared back at him and repeated two key words to Draco, “New Year.”

Slamming his fist against the desk angrily, he narrowed his eyes but was
left with only one thing to say, “Pfft.” And with that out of the way,
he whisked back around and pressed his flushed cheek against the cool of
the table.

Let’s stop for a second.

It’s one thing to receive an enema for a Christmas present — a godawful thing, but one thing.
It’s another to get a coffee enema, and not some kind of legitimate over-the-counter enema, I would imagine.
And it’s yet another thing for someone to give you that enema without a warning and without your permission.

My point: Harry Potter, worst Christmas present giver EVER.

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-“

Twenty minutes?” Draco cried out in a shrill tone.

“Hey, you’re just lucky I ground the beans first.”

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

“Hold-“

New Years, Draco.”

I assume this “New Years” catackalysm Harry keep referring to was this.

“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? Malfoy had long since given in on being bottom, but he’d never known Harry to be a sadist. “Harry…”

Maybe Harry just wants a latte with extra foam.

Harry slipped his tongue into Draco’s thickly puckered opening. His lips
formed as much of a seal around it as he could manage and then he began
to swallow. 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.
 

The golden boy was swallowing as fast as he could, but the soiled coffee
overflowed the corners of his lips and dribbled down to pool in the
hollows of his collarbones. But Christmas was the time of giving, 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.


Harry Potter and the Goblet of Feces

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. The
odd occasional chunk or seedy bit of something gushing over his tongue
was on the cusp of making him gag, but instead he concentrated on what
Draco must be feeling.

Confused? Disgusted? Like he has a venti Americano in his ass? Bitter that Harry didn’t pick anything out from his Amazon wishlist instead?

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. Harry’s hand
thrumming his now furious erection was overwhelming him and he tried
desperately not to rut into it lest he stop “holding it.”

Draco is being surprisingly considerate of Harry’s comfort given that, you know, Harry just poured a cup of coffee into his ass

On top of that was the sucking and pulling and undulating tongue of none
other than the bespectacled boy who lived behind him. 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.

Draco we have heard on high
Spewing coffee from his rear
Yelling as his handjob ends
Harry’s soaked but in good cheer

Great globs of glistening white ooze spurted spectacularly 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!”

You know who really pity in all these Harry Potter fan fic? Filch, the janitor. Yes, he’s a bastard, but he’s cleaning up all kind of bodily fluids all day, every day, and every single location in Hogwarts. No place is safe from the students’ fuckign and scat-play. I think he has every right to be bitter.

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.”

HO HO HO. I know this was horrible, but you should all count your lucky stars I never found any erotic Christmas Story fan fics. It would’ve brought new meaning to “You’ll shoot your eye out.”