Sod Off, Malfoy
Draco isn’t sure how to react. He lays there, dumbfounded in front of half of Hogwarts eighth years, and he’s mortified. He had been sleeping peacefully on a couch in the common room. Had nodded off while reading a book for one of his classes. And he woke up with a very… noticeable wet spot on the front of his pants. Which probably meant he was moaning in his sleep as well. And based on Potter’s horrified face and the contents of the dream he can guess what he was moaning.
“Excuse me,” he said, addressing everyone, and calmly got up to leave.
He heard footsteps coming after him and didn’t bother to see who it was. Probably Pansy, there to lie to Draco and tell him that everything would be fine. Once he finally made it back to his dorm he began to open the door, only to find none other than Potter leaning against the wall next to his door.
“Ah!” Draco yelps, jumping back in surprise. “What the bloody hell do you want, Potter?” He snarls, trying his best to sound intimidating while still being aware that there was cum soaked through his trousers.
“Just wondering about the nap you just had,” he says infuriatingly innocently, examining his nails as if he didn’t have a care in the world.
“What about it, Potter?” Draco asks with what he hopes is menace.
“You were making some interesting noises.”
Draco flushes red down to his neck and he feels the heat spread down to his stomach and coil at his belly button. “Was I? I had no idea,” he says casually. “Now if you don’t mind I need to get to my room-”
“You said my name,” Potter says bluntly. Always with the class, that one.
“Oh,” Draco replies, dumbfounded at what else he was supposed to say.
“And I was just wondering…” it seems as though Potter is actually nervous, which fascinates Draco. He didn’t even know it was possible for the Boy Who Lived to get nervous.
“Well… if…I didn’t know you felt … like that.”
Draco’s face twists in anger. If Potter thinks for even a second that Draco has any semblance of … feelings for the git then he has another thing coming.
“Feel like what, Potter?” Draco grits out. Potter’s mouth drops open and Draco walks into his room, slamming the door behind him. All the while thinking, what the fuck have I done?
***
Harry returns to the common room defeated. Hermione sees the look on his face and rushes over to him. “Harry!” she cries. “What’s wrong? What happened? Did he do something to you? Because if-”
Harry cuts her off with a wave of his hand. “It’s fine, Mione. He didn’t do anything. Just the same old annoying prat he’s always been.”
Ron pipes up from the couch where he was manspreading. “Oi, what about that dream though! That was disgusting, wasn’t it, Harry?” he asks, sounding almost excited at Malfoy’s embarrassment. Harry pushes down the anger he feels boiling in his veins.
“Yeah, weird,” Harry says dryly, choosing not to comment. The truth is, Harry had been pining after Malfoy for some time now, and that dream had been just the thing to confirm his suspicions that Malfoy felt the same way. But with the way he reacted, now Harry isn’t as sure as he once was. Maybe it had all been a coincidence, maybe he had actually been fighting with Harry in his dream? But no, those moans were distinctly… well, Harry didn’t care to think about it too much.
But he was sure, he had been so certain that Malfoy finally wanted Harry the way Harry wanted him. But no, he had been wrong. It stung, and he tried not to dwell on it. Instead he threw himself into a game of chess with Ron and didn’t think about Malfoy for the rest of the night.
Yeah, right. Harry wishes.
***
Draco is exhausted. The conversation with Potter had drained him and he wasn’t even sure why he reacted that way. Potter was coming on to him, obviously, because he’s an unsubtle prick, but Draco had rejected him. He had too much pride, that was his problem. He had been obsessed with Harry since fourth year, and yet he had rejected him when he finally had the chance. What an idiot.
Draco wants to kick himself in the teeth until his face is permanently deformed. He sits on his bed, his head between his knees, groaning audibly. Just then, Blaise walks in. Great, just what Draco needs right now.
“Draco?” his deep, rumbly voice sounds from the doorway. He sounds sympathetic. Draco can’t decide if that’s worse or better than if Blaise decided to torment him about the whole thing.
“You alright?” He asks tentatively, walking slowly into the room. “About what happened out there-”
“Drop it, Blaise,” Draco snaps sharply. “I don’t wish to discuss it.” And that was that. It was dropped, and the two boys chatted amicably for a while until Draco got bored.
“I’m going to use the loo,” he says suddenly, standing and walking out of the door. He’s really going to find Potter. He can’t stand the thought of him out there, thinking Draco still hates him. He does, of course, he always would. But he also wants to kiss him so fiercely he forgets his own name.
So, Draco sets off to find that insufferable, gorgeous git.
***
Harry is sitting in the common room next to Ron and Hermione, pouting. He had finished his game of chess with Ron and is staring at the wall, thinking incessantly. It’s driving him insane.
Just then, a door opens somewhere and posh footsteps make their way to the common room. Harry would recognize those footsteps anywhere. He sits up straighter and pretends to be uninterested. Sure enough, a few seconds later Malfoy strides into the room, cocky as ever. As if he didn’t just have a wet dream in front of half of his year.
“Potter,” Malfoy says swiftly. “I need to talk with you.”
Ron barks out a laugh and looks at Harry. “Mate, if you think Harry’s going anywhere near you-”
Harry cuts him off with a swift hand. “Ron,” he warns. Hermione looks up from her book finally and puts an arm on Ron, silently telling him to back down.
“What do you want, Malfoy?” Harry asks, annoyed. He has no time for the git who rejected him two hours ago. The nerve Malfoy has always astonishes Harry.
“I just need to speak to you.” Then, after a second, “Please.” It’s so earnest, so vulnerable, that Harry almost says yes. Almost.
“I’m busy, Malfoy,” he says, gesturing to Ron and Hermione. Ron puffs out his chest as if to say sod off. But Malfoy persists.
“It’s important, Potter.”
Harry rolls his eyes. “Fine, Malfoy. Whatever.” He gets up and follows Malfoy out of the common room into the corridor. Once they’ve made it into a small alcove Harry whirls onto Malfoy.
“What the bloody hell is your problem? First you yell at me for… what I said. And now you want to talk to me and it’s ‘important’? Honestly, what the fuck?”
Malfoy takes a deep breath. What he says next makes Harry’s jaw drop open.
“I’m sorry.”
“You- you’re what?” Harry asks, spluttering.
“I’m sorry, alright? Don’t make me repeat it. I reacted… poorly earlier. Because the truth is… I do.”
“You do what?” Harry asks dumbly, honestly not sure where Malfoy is going with this.
“I do feel… that way about you. You were right.”
Harry’s jaw drops open wider, which Malfoy hadn’t even been sure was possible. They stand there in awkward silence before something finally clicks in Harry’s brain and he’s shoving Malfoy against a wall and sliding his tongue into his mouth.
On instinct Malfoy pushes him away, wiping his mouth off.
“Oh, god’s sake Malfoy I thought we just got over this!” Harry exclaims.
“Right, right, sorry. Force of habit,” Malfoy explains sheepishly. He steps toward Harry and their lips connect. Harry snakes a hand around Malfoy’s waist and deepens the kiss. Soon enough both boys are panting as they pull away from each other.
They just stare at each other for a while, basking in the glow of finally being together. Eventually, Harry presses his forehead to Malfoy’s and kisses the tip of his nose. “We should probably head back,” Malfoy resigns.
“What’s the rush?” Harry asks. “Why don’t you tell me about that dream you were having earlier?” he adds seductively. Malfoy flushes a deep crimson and backs up a bit, bumping into the wall as he does so.
“Right. Well, we were… in your bed, and I was… we were…” Malfoy struggles to articulate what he’s trying to say. Harry catches on quickly and crowds against him, pressing soft kisses to his neck.
“How about this, why don’t you just show me?” Harry suggests.
***
Fuck. Draco had always known, on some level, that he was a bottom. But now that Potter was using that dangerously low voice and he had that look in his eyes, Draco was sure.
“Shy, Malfoy?” Potter asks, now pressing hot, open mouthed kisses to Draco’s neck. Draco nods and grips Potter’s shoulders, pulling him closer. “It’s alright, darling. I’ve got you.”
And fuck, Draco just melts.
“So, about that dream?” Potter prompts. Draco nods and drops to his knees. Potter exhales shakily and tips his head back. Draco smiles to himself and painstakingly unzips Potter’s trousers. Potter puts a hand into Draco’s hair and tugs experimentally. Draco responds by moaning, and Potter has to shush him.
Draco takes Potter’s cock out and strokes it up and down a few times before licking a teasing stripe up the side of it. Potter shudders and grips Draco’s hair tightly. Draco moans around Harry’s cock and the vibrations send another shiver through Potter.
Draco is desperate to be used by Potter. He wants to be wrecked by him. He puts his hands on Potter’s arse and shoves him forward, effectively sinking his cock deeper into Draco’s mouth. So deep, that Draco starts to gag. Potter begins to pull off, but Draco just shoves him in farther, so far that tears start to form in Draco’s eyes. But he just shoves Potter’s cock even further into his mouth and moans around it.
Eventually, Potter gets the hint and starts face fucking Draco. Draco loves every second of it, and soon enough Harry is groaning louder and louder.
“Fuck, Draco, gonna-” just as he’s saying it he comes hard into Draco’s mouth. Draco swallows it all down obediently and pulls off, pressing chaste kisses to his tip as Potter comes down from his orgasm.
Draco stands and dusts off his knees, putting back on his posh facade. Potter is still catching his breath when Draco pulls him in by the tie for another kiss.
“You called me Draco,” he says nervously.
“I did,” Potter says, as if he’s just now realizing it as well.
“I suppose that means I should call you Harry?” Draco asks with a hint of hope in his voice that he tries very hard to cover up.
“Yes, that’s exactly what it means.”
Draco smiles and pulls Harry in for another deep kiss.