NOTE: This work of fiction is set between Goblet of Fire and Order of the Phoenix in the Harry Potter timeline. I've used the film series rather than the books as my primary inspiration especially from a visual perspective. Sadly I don't own any of the copyrights or characters used or mentioned in this story and they remain the property of their respective owners.
Chapter Three: Another Late Night
Harry Potter had become consumed by thoughts of Dudley Dursley.
It had been five days since he'd followed Dudley to that perfectly ordinary house and witnessed something extraordinary. In those five days Harry had barely had a thought that wasn't about Dudley or the events he'd witnessed. The performance he had seen. Dudley couldn't possibly have known he was there and yet the entire encounter had seemed like a fantasy from the most hidden part of Harry's mind played out in live action just for him. Every second of it was burned into Harry's brain. He could recall it all in almost perfect detail. The way Dudley had moved, the sounds, the smells and that expression as he'd climaxed. The look of pure pleasure and contentment that had filled Dudley's face. Harry was sure he'd never forget that.
As consumed as he was with thoughts of Dudley, Harry had continued to avoid his cousin. He was still terrified of how Dudley would react to seeing him again after their late night encounter nearly a week ago. An encounter that had ended with Harry sprawled on the floor courtesy of a stiff right hand from Dudley. A punch that had left an unmistakable mark, if not quite a bruise, on the side of Harry's face. If the less frequent banging and slamming of doors was any indication Dudley's mood had calmed but Harry was sure another encounter between the two of them would lead to more violence and it was clear to him that he was no match for Dudley's physical superiority so he stayed hidden from Dudley.
In truth this was not a radical departure from the years Harry had spent at Privet Drive. Most of his life had been spent avoiding contact with Dudley not to mention his Aunt and Uncle. It was, Harry had quickly discovered, better to avoid them than to suffer through their snide comments and veiled threats. If it had been possible for him to spend his summers anywhere but here he would have. Although now he wondered if that were true. Would this unexpected overwhelming desire for Dudley keep him returning here to Privet Drive even after that was no longer necessary?
Harry pushed this thought from his mind and once again tried to remind himself that there were vastly more important things than Dudley Dursley for him to be thinking of. His every waking moment should have been filled with dread and panic. Voldemort had returned. He had killed and he would be coming for Harry. And yet, Voldemort had not factored into his thinking since that night with Dudley. Nor had he woken from nightmares of Cedric. His nights, like his days, had become consumed by thoughts of Dudley. He had woken most mornings to stained sheets and underwear. The excitement of his dreams of Dudley having gotten the better of him in the night.
Once again Harry realised his thoughts had turned immediately back to Dudley.
The Daily Prophet lay discarded on the floor at his feet. He contemplated once again flicking through its pages in search of distraction but reminded himself that this had been entirely unsuccessful earlier in the day. He had thought reading reports of the latest Quidditch games would serve as a distraction but as he'd sat staring at the magical moving images of chasers, seekers, beaters and keepers his mind had returned to Dudley. Comparing Dudley's broad imposing build with that of his Quidditch idols and noting that his obvious strength would make him perfectly suited to the role of beater. This thought had soon turned to a fantasy of Dudley as a beater for Team Gryffindor. A shared locker room and post-match shower...
"No!"
Harry shook himself free of that particular fantasy. He did not need his mind once again filled with thoughts of Dudley stripping off his quidditch gear after a long hard game. Nor did he need to be thinking of Dudley's post-match shower. Or how much he wished to be on his knees before his cousin. To be able to taste him. To be able to make him moan and cry out in the same animalistic way that woman had just days ago. To hear his cousin say his name in pleasure.
Once again Harry's hand slid under the waistband of the jogging bottoms he'd taken to wearing over the summer. There was no underwear to stop his hand immediately wrapping around his hard cock. He'd abandoned wearing underwear during the day after realising it was just getting in his way. A whole extra layer to get through when his thoughts of Dudley became too much. With his eyes closed and thoughts of Dudley consuming him Harry stroked his dick. He'd lost count of how many times he'd brought himself to orgasm in the days since witnessing Dudley in action. He had no idea how many times he'd cum thinking of Dudley's surprising dirty talk. Nor did he remember how many times he'd cum remembering Dudley's powerful thrusts or the way the woman had choked and spluttered on his cock or any number of a thousand things about that day that filled his mind.
"Oh God Dudley!"
He tried to imagine how it would feel to have Dudley behind him. To feel that rough hand between his shoulder blades pushing him down and bending him over. To feel that dick entering him like it had entered her. Harry wanted to cry out but he knew he needed to be quiet. To be more than a whisper would risk detection. It would risk Dudley hearing him as he'd heard his cries in the night of Cedric. But would detection be so bad? Dudley storming into the room and grabbing him. That large rough hand at his throat once more. Squeezing.
"Oh fuck!"
It has come without warning. His cock exploded once more. Staining the inside of his trousers and his hand with his cum. And once again Harry was taking deep panting breaths after thoughts of Dudley had brought him to orgasm. An explosive and messy orgasm. He wondered how he could possibly still have this much cum left. How had he not drained himself dry over the last few days? It seemed to him as if he was stroking himself to an inevitable messy conclusion every couple of hours. Apparently his body would make a limitless supply of cum to go along with his endless thoughts of Dudley.
Harry slipped off his stained and sticky jogging bottoms and knew that he needed to clean up. He'd used a combination of tissues, t-shirts and anything else that was to hand to clean up his repeated messes over the last few days but things were getting out of hand. Almost all of his clothes were now dry sticky cum stained messes and he supposed there must be an unmistakable smell filling the room. Step one then would be to open a window. To finally allow some fresh air into the room.
The darkness outside of the house came as a surprise to Harry. He had not expected to see a sky filled with stars as he pushed his window open. Clearly time had gotten away from him. A glance at the small alarm clock perched on a bedside table shocked him even more. It was midnight. Another day lost to thoughts of Dudley.
Still an advantage to the late hour was that the house would be quiet and empty. His cousin, his Aunt and his Uncle would all be confined to their rooms and with any luck in a deep sleep. Harry would have the freedom to move about as he pleased and to make a start on cleaning not just himself but his few meager possessions. Putting on a load of laundry should, he decided, be step two of operation clean-up.
Casting an eye around the room Harry found a loose fitting pair of checked boxer shorts that were, to his eyes and nose, clean or close enough. With no one else around he should be fine to move around the house in just his underwear and a t-shirt. Under normal circumstances such a risk would not be taken. Moving quickly he bundled up a collection of dirty clothes, t-shirts, underwear, trousers, jumpers and even his Hogwarts robes, and as quietly as he could carried them downstairs. He was confident that his Aunt and Uncle would sleep through the clatters and clangs of the washing and drying cycle. They always did. And Dudley, he knew, would have no interest in coming to inspect the washing machine.
With the laundry on, Harry decided that it was long past time to shower. It was fair to say that his personal hygiene had suffered as a result of his all consuming thoughts of Dudley. As he headed back up the stairs and toward a long overdue shower Harry heard the familiar and unmistakable sound of a floorboard creaking. Dudley was awake.
Harry froze halfway up the stairs. Silently waiting for another creak. For any sign that Dudley was still moving around in the hallway. The seconds seemed to stretch on for hours but all he heard was the occasional muffled whirl of the washing machine below him. Maybe he'd imagine the creak of the floorboard. It was one of many sounds that had flooded his mind this week. In many ways the sound that had started this whole thing. Or maybe he'd caught Dudley on his way back from a late night visit to the bathroom. Their paths almost but not quite crossing. Whatever the case may be there was nothing but silence now. No more signs or sounds of movement and so Harry once again began to climb the stairs albeit slower and more cautiously than before.
As he reached the hallway at the top of the stairs Harry froze once more. Dudley was not back in bed. His unmistakable frame, one Harry was sure he'd memorised every detail of, practically filled the hallway now and was blocking Harry's path although not intentionally. Dudley's back was to Harry. He guessed he didn't know he was there and if he'd wanted to Harry could have quietly slipped back downstairs and evaded detection. But Harry didn't want to slip back downstairs he wanted to try and understand what he was seeing. Dudley's ear was pressed against the door to Harry's bedroom. This made no sense.
"Can I help you?"
As he had during their last late night encounter Harry spoke to Dudley with infinitely more confidence than he felt and his voice, quiet as it was, clearly startled Dudley. It was strange to see the big hulking force that Harry had built up in his mind jump at the sound of his voice but that was exactly what happened. To his credit Dudley recovered himself quickly, turning and squaring up to Harry from across the hallway. His shoulders and chest seemed to expand to fill the space and the expression on his face made clear he was not afraid of Harry.
"What are you doing?" Dudley demanded.
"I could ask you the same thing!" It was true. Harry might have been caught sneaking around the house in the dead of night but Dudley had been caught with his ear pressed to Harry's door. "Are you spying on me?"
"No!" Impossibly Dudley seemed to expand further as spluttered and spat this answer.
"I think you were..." Harry wanted to run at Dudley now. To launch himself at him. Not in anger but in lust. He knew he couldn't possibly succeed but he so desperately wanted to tackle Dudley to the ground so that he could feel and taste him. In reality Harry was sure that if he launched himself at Dudley now it would be like running into a brick wall. "...and that's OK because I've been spying on you too."
"What...?" Dudley's confusion was apparent and understandable. Harry could feel his confidence building. It was no longer just the pretense of confidence but the reality of it. He had no idea what he was about to say and yet he felt on firm footing. Or at least firmer than Dudley. "What do you mean you've been spying on me?"
Harry took a few cautious steps closer to Dudley and he saw his cousin tense up. His shoulders tightened and his arms tensed. Not nerves. Dudley was preparing to fight. Preparing for Harry to jump on him once again like he had the last time they'd been alone in this hallway and he was preparing to respond in the same way he had before, with his fists. Harry opted against tempting fate and taking another step closer. Besides if he got too close to Dudley he feared he'd lose control as he had the last time. That his desire and lust for Dudley would get the better of him once again. Keeping apart was for the best.
Now that he was closer Harry could better take in Dudley. His cousin was wearing a dark vest. It covered his large torso including that strong wide chest but left his arms bare and displayed his shoulders. With just a casual glance people would describe Dudley as fat or chubby but Harry knew this wasn't the case. He'd spent the summer, and particularly the last few days, studying and obsessing over Dudley and he'd come to know every inch of him. He was big and broad and maybe even a little round at the edges but not far. There was strength and power and muscle. Harry had witnessed that strength and power first hand.
Alongside his vest Dudley was wearing another pair of his preferred boxer briefs. These ones were a dark red in colour and Harry decided that red might just be Dudley's colour. He liked them more than the dark underwear he'd seen him in previously.
"I've been watching you..." Dudley glared at Harry as he spoke. His muscles didn't relax. He was still ready to fight. "...all summer. It's been enlightening. And it turns out you've been spying on me too!"
"No!" Dudley's denial was forceful and again he seemed to grow larger with it while Harry's confidence shrunk. "I was just... walking by and I thought I heard you... something. I heard something and..."
The force of Dudley's words disappeared as he tried to explain and justify why Harry had caught him with his ear pressed to the door. And as the force disappeared Harry's confidence returned. He allowed his mind to believe that Dudley had been thinking about and obsessing over him. That something had awoken in Dudley during their last late night meeting too.
"Just leave me alone!"
Dudley's force and strength returned now and Harry's heart sank just a little. Of course Dudley wasn't really obsessing over him as well. The performance he'd witnessed with that woman made clear that he and Dudley weren't the same. Whatever Dudley had been doing outside his room it wasn't fueled by some secret desire for Harry. And now Dudley was walking away. Turning away from Harry and toward his own room.
"I saw you with her you know..."
Harry didn't know why he said it and as soon as the words left his mouth he regretted them. But Dudley had stopped now and was turning back toward Harry. Staring at him. Every muscle tense and ready to fight.
"What?"
"That woman. I saw you with her. Fucking her."
The words just kept coming out before Harry could stop them. Each one seemed to tighten a screw within Dudley that contracted every muscle in his body. He was a bomb ready to explode and Harry would be the target.
"How?"
"Magic..."
That word, usually forbidden in this house, seemed to release some of the tension within Dudley. His confidence faltering at the mention of the one advantage Harry had over him in a fight. Harry couldn't use magic outside of Hogwarts, the Dursley's knew that, but Harry had just said he was using it to spy on Dudley. Maybe the rules had changed. The two cousins stood in near silence for a moment. Just the sound of their breathing disturbing the summer night. Harry's surprisingly calm and steady, Dudley's deep and angry.
"It was quite the performance..." More than anything Harry wanted to move closer to Dudley. To be able to reach out and touch him. Even now when he knew doing so would set the bomb that was Dudley Dursley to explode he wanted to touch and taste him. But he resisted. "...amazing really."
For what seemed like an eternity Dudley said nothing but Harry could sense the bomb defusing itself. He could see Dudley's shoulders and arms relax just a fraction.
"Yeah...?"
The question was so unsure, so unlike the Dudley that Harry had seen with that woman. No trace of the snarling roaring beast Harry had watched. But that beast was still in there just waiting to come out.
"Yes. You were amazing. Big strong Dudley. A real man." Harry could sense the animal inside Dudley stirring once again. "And she was just a grateful whore."
The word felt alien in Harry's mouth. He wasn't sure he'd ever used it before but Dudley seemed to appreciate it. He sniggered slightly at its use.
"She's been after my cock for months. Filthy little married slut."
"I bet..."
"Always showing off her tits. Bending over in front of me. Begging to get fucked." Harry watched Dudley intently as he spoke. If he didn't know any better he'd say Dudley had forgotten he was there. He wasn't looking at Harry but past him. Remembering. And his hands were no longer balled into fists at his side instead one was slowly stroking at his cock through his underwear. Dudley, Harry realised, was getting excited. "Begging for a real man to take care of her."
"And you did..." Harry couldn't take his eyes off of Dudley. He was biting his bottom lip as he squeezed and played with his growing erection, his eyes closed. Dudley wasn't in the hallway with Harry right now. He was back in that house. Back with that woman. "She loved every second."
"Such a whore!"
Harry wished that he could touch Dudley. Wished that he was close enough to reach out and feel his large powerful chest or to run his hand over the exposed skin of his arms. To let his hand be the one that was squeezing and stroking Dudley's cock but he didn't dare move closer. Instead he stood apart from Dudley and followed his lead. He began to feel and stroke at his own erection through his loose fitting boxer shorts. It had been mere minutes since he'd last cum but he knew he would have no trouble shooting another load. His cock was already throbbing.
Dudley released a deep sigh. His hand was inside the boxer briefs now and Harry could tell that he'd wrapped his fingers around his thick shaft. With every move of Dudley's hand Harry could glimpse the base of his cock as his underwear pulled forward.
"Her pussy was loose..." Harry wasn't sure if Dudley was talking to him or just talking. Not that it mattered. "Old slut with a loose pussy. Not like her daughter. That bitch was so tight she couldn't take it. I couldn't get in and her blowjob was all teeth."
"You're so big!" Harry was willing Dudley to take his cock out. He could still remember every detail of the long thick member but he wanted to see it again. He wanted to see Dudley's cum shoot from it. To watch it pulse and throb as he climaxed. "Not like me..."
Dudley's eyes snapped open at this and he was staring directly at Harry. Still slowly stroking his cock in those now impossibly tight briefs and looking directly at Harry.
"Show me!"
Harry couldn't quite believe what he was hearing. It wasn't possible. And yet Dudley was staring right at him. Waiting for him to do as commanded. Harry took a breath. He'd never exposed himself to anyone before. Never shown his cock to another person. He'd successfully avoided the group showers after quidditch and the communal showers and bathrooms of Hogwarts. Even before his drunken late night daring talk with Ron he'd suspected that he was small. And compared to Dudley he thought of himself as tiny.
"I said show me!"
Dudley had stopped stroking now. His hand was still wrapped around his cock but there was no movement. He was simply glaring at Harry. And so Harry did as he was told. He dragged the waistband of his boxers down letting them drop to his ankles and leaving himself exposed. Allowing Dudley to take in his small skinny cock.
"Look at that thing!" Dudley was practically laughing. "I can barely see it. Little baby dick!"
And now Dudley was laughing. Sniggering to himself at the sight of Harry Potter's hard cock. The laughter did nothing to soften Harry's cock though. It seemed to throb harder with each sniggering laugh from Dudley. Pre-cum leaking from the head and down the thin shaft.
"I'm not big like you. Not a real man." Dudley once again began to slowly stroke his cock as Harry spoke. "All that power and strength. You're amazing."
Dudley's eyes closed again and he was back to biting his lower lip. Another long deep sigh. Harry returned to stroking his own cock. Slowly. Matching the speed and rhythm of Dudley's hand. For a blissful moment they continued like this. In sync as they stroked their own cocks. Harry perpetually on the edge of climax but somehow holding back. It was just a moment though. Dudley's hand withdrew from his underwear and his eyes were once again open. He glared at Harry as Harry continued to slowly and gently stroke his own cock.
"Fucking pussy baby dick! I'm a real man!"
Dudley yanked at the waistband of his designer briefs and finally released his cock. Harry's view of it was obscured for just a second as Dudley tucked the waistband of his underwear under his balls but then he was allowed to take it in. Dudley's glorious cock. Just as big and thick as Harry remembered. A prominent vein running along the side of it. A vein Harry desperately wanted to run his tongue along. It took all of Harry's self control not to shoot his load at the mere sight of Dudley's cock. Shooting his load might mean this ended and Harry didn't want this to end.
"Wow..."
If Dudley heard Harry's admiration for his cock he did not acknowledge it. Instead he spat. At first on his dick and then onto his hand.
"When you've got a real man's dick you need to get it wet. You wouldn't know that baby dick."
And then Dudley was stroking again. His hand wrapped tightly around his thick shaft. Pulling back on his foreskin and exposing the shining head of his cock. Slick stroking sounds filling the hallway. This wasn't the slow relaxed stroking of before but faster. Harder. More aggressive. The long pleasurable sighs were replaced with deeper angrier grunts.
"Oh God!"
Harry couldn't help himself. He couldn't hold back any longer. The sight of Dudley furiously stroking his cock combined with those deep aggressive grunts had pushed him over the edge. He came but it was not the usual explosion that marked his orgasms. Instead just a dribble of cum ran down the shaft of his cock and over his fingers. Apparently he'd finally emptied his balls and Dudley was laughing.
"That all you got baby dick?"
Dudley stroked faster and his grip tightened. Harry watched as his shoulders and chest tightened. He heard Dudley's breathing get wilder and harder. His grunts get deeper and louder. Harry knew it was coming and kept his eyes glued to Dudley. Taking in every perfect detail of him. And then there was the familiar wild animal like roar, a roar that must surely have woken the whole street, and Dudley was cumming. The thick white cum exploded from his cock. Shooting like bullets and landing with gentle thumps on Harry's door and the carpeted floor of the hallway. Dribbles of cum running down Dudley's shaft and covering his hand. The cum shot seemed to last forever with each shot paired with a deep grunting moan from Harry.
"Oh my... wow..." Harry didn't have any other words. This time he could tell that Dudley had heard his admiration. There was a little self-satisfied smirk that gave it away.
For a moment Dudley stood with his forehead resting on Harry's door enjoying the afterglow of his orgasm. Letting his deep breaths return to normal. Harry couldn't take his eyes off of Dudley. This wild brute of a man. His softening cock still exposed and somehow still dripping tiny drops of cum onto Harry's door and the floor outside his room. This perfect moment couldn't last forever though. Dudley wiped his hand on the front of his dark vest smearing it with cum and then carefully tucked his cock back into his underwear and without saying another word he was gone. Retreating into his own room and leaving Harry alone in the hallway.
Harry wasn't entirely sure how long he'd stood in the hallway with his boxer shorts still around his ankles. It could have been seconds or it could have been hours. Regardless he did eventually move. Pulling his boxer shorts back up and heading toward the door to his room. A door covered in Dudley's cum. It was extraordinary how much Dudley had cum. The lower half of the door seemed to be covered not to mention the pools that had landed on the carpet. Harry stared at the door for a moment and then dropped down to his knees. His tongue carefully, slowly, testingly dipping into a river of Dudley's cum.
The flavour was difficult to describe. Sweetness mixed with bitter and salt and something else. Whatever it was Harry wanted more. He was lapping the cum up from the door. His tongue greedily searching out of every drop of it before dropping further down to the floor and the pools Dudley had left on the carpet. Harry wanted it all. He needed to taste Dudley. Within seconds he had successfully lapped up all traces of Dudley's cum from the door and the floor and was greedily licking his lips hoping to find leftovers there.