11. eaivalefay prompted me with Blaise/Harry: Paris.
Yes, Please, Thank You, Now! (R; Blaise/Harry; 155 words)
Harry stepped into the kitchen and found Zabini, almost naked, eating some kind of soft cheese off a thick piece of toast—and moaning.
The Paris assignment was going to kill him. What gay closeted Auror could survive in such close proximity to a god-like wizard such as Blaise? He didn't think his prick would, anyway; he'd been wanking it nearly raw for days.
Zabini's tongue, his impossibly long fucking tongue, slithered out of his mouth to slide between bread and cheese to collect a bit of the pungent stuff and return it to his mouth—with another deep groan of pleasure; the act had Harry thinking of the man's prick at once: what would it be like to feel what had to be Zabini's magnificent cock pressing—
Harry started. Fuck! Had he been dreaming aloud? "Er, yeah?"
"Want a taste?" Zabini asked, thrusting out his hips and toast at the same time.