The Blue One
Draco stared into the green eyes in the mirror, trying to flatten the black hair that had been driving him crazy for the past week. It was of course a lost cause but it wouldn’t matter much longer since this was hopefully the last morning he’d wake up wearing it.
A week ago he’d actually been excited about the prospect of being Potter, getting a break from the normal hell that was his life but somehow he’d managed to fuck this up too the way he always did.
“I’m sorry” he whispered to the boy in the mirror, because he truly was.
“I’m sorry.” The words echoed from the doorway, louder and in Weasley’s voice.
Draco arranged his features into a neutral expression and turned around.
“I shouldn’t have talked to Ginny about you. It’s just, I found her crying by the fireplace and…I figured you two needed to work it out. I shouldn’t have meddled.”
Draco considered going for that hex but he couldn’t muster the energy. He sighed. “I just wish other people hadn’t found out. About the gay thing.”
Weasley stared at him dumbfounded. “Have they?”
*****
Harry decided to skip his classes and remained in bed. By the afternoon, his stomach was beginning to churn and he wished he could have Ron bring him some food from the kitchens, though Ron was probably in history of magic at the moment, ignoring Binns and not minding that Harry was gay.
Confused, he’d spent most part of the day mulling over what he’d seen in the pensive and for some reason he kept returning to the moment where Ginny asked if there was someone Harry liked. Which shouldn’t be the focal point here. And it shouldn’t matter that Malfoy had replied that yes there was and then firmly stated that he wasn’t feeling the same way. It shouldn’t matter that Harry had kissed him and that there had been a moment when Malfoy had kissed him back and it had felt like drinking amortentia. Not when Malfoy had outed him loud enough for word to travel all the way to Pansy Parkinson’s ears.
What he’d seen in Malfoy’s memories didn’t make sense. Why would he take such care to ensure Ron and Ginny kept his secret (which Harry was positive they had) only to spread the word himself? But then again, how was he to fathom how the mind of Draco Malfoy worked? Perhaps it was part of a revenge for Harry hooking up with Zabini. Perhaps he wanted to make sure he’d be the one to sell it to the Prophet. Harry groaned into his pillow and considered migrating somewhere. He’d heard Australia was a nice country.
“What are you doing here?” came Zabini’s surprised voice from the other side of the bedcurtains and for a wild moment he thought that Malfoy had made his way in there. He was strangely disappointed when it was Parkinson who replied.
“Someone has to check Draco is alive, don’t they?”
Zabini snorted. “Oh, he’s alive alright. He’s been in there all day, moaning. Probably wanking over Potter.”
Harry groaned, silently this time, not wanting to think about Malfoy’s reaction if Zabini kept saying things like that after tomorrow when the real Malfoy was back in his bed. He should really look into the whole Australia thing.
He was momentarily blinded by the bright light as Parkinson pulled his bed curtains apart.
“Hey” he protested, grabbing for the blanket to shield his bare legs. Since he hadn’t bothered to get up he hadn’t bothered to get dressed either.
“Oh please, as if I haven’t seen you starkers already.”
“You have?” he mumbled surprised as she climbed into bed with him and with a flick of her wand pulled the curtains shut and cast a muffliato simultaneously. He had to admire her wandwork.
“Oh, have you forgotten about that time in fifth year when we were about to have sex and you suddenly screamed that you were gay and ran out of the room?” she mocked. “I, on the other hand, found that quite memorable.”
Harry made a face, thinking he didn’t need to know that. Though Parkinson believing Malfoy was that gay made her lying down next to him seem a little less intimidating.
“So? What’s going on with you and Potter?” she asked and Harry swallowed, wondering if he’d made it through this hell of a week only to be busted by Parkinson at the last minute.
His choked nothing apparently wasn’t enough, she simply kept eyeing him.
“How did you find out he’s gay?” he asked, mostly to stop her silent staring at him.
She shrugged. “I overheard Lovegood dragging it out of girl-Weasley in the bathroom.”
Harry frowned. “They talked about it in one of the bathrooms?” That was hardly the height of discretion.
“Oh, Weasley was quite eager to make sure no one overheard, checking all the stalls were empty before she started spilling the beans” Parkinson grinned mischievously. “Nothing a good disillusionment charm couldn’t fool of course.”
“And how many have you told?” He eyed the hawthorn wand at the bedside table, wondering if he would be able to hex her in the face before she disarmed him.
“Just you darling.” When Harry stared at her in disbelief she laughed. “It wouldn’t do me any favors to go around spreading rumors about Potter, would it?”
“So people don’t know he’s gay?” he said slowly.
“No, I don’t think so. But there’s quite a lot of talk about him breaking up with Weasley, though word is she dumped him. And it sure looks like it, he’s gone around looking bloody miserable all day.”
“Oh” Harry let out, the truth dawning on him. Malfoy hadn’t told anyone. He groaned and pulled the pillow over his face in an attempt to block out the shame mingling with regret. It didn’t work.
Parkinson left him to it for a minute before she poked him in the ribs. “So what happened?” Did you do something stupid like run off and make a move on him the minute I told you he was gay?”
Harry threw the pillow aside, staring at her, searching her face for amusement but there was simply concern. “Why would I do that?”
This time she did smile. “Oh please, you’ve been pining over him for years. You even admitted to fancying him when we played truth or dare on veritaserum at the end of the summer.” The shock must have registered on his face because she shrugged and added “I guess you don’t remember, you were pretty wasted.”
Harry closed his eyes, the pieces falling to place in his mind, all the hints she had made this week, why Zabini kept bringing up his name, how everyone had looked at him in the common room when the jokes about the article had gone round the room. “And you told people?” he choked.
She rolled her eyes. “Of course not, it’s just really obvious, at least to the people who’ve heard you rant about him for years, it’s quite tiresome actually. I don’t think the other houses have picked up on it though.”
“They sure haven’t” Harry muttered, drawing his hand through his hair nervously. Malfoy fancied him?
The events of the past week flashed before his eyes in a new light, Malfoy combing his fingers through his hair, standing close to him while Harry shaved his face, gently holding Harry as he was hurting, not taking advantage of him when he was vulnerable although he must have wanted to. Everything up until the last moment he’d seen him, when Harry had yelled at him. And now Malfoy had been looking miserable all day.
“Fuck” he muttered, finding it hard to breath all of a sudden.
Parkinson gently stroked his arm. “What happened?”
“I…he called me a death eater, among other things.” The words stung his throat as he spoke. “Just like Blaise did.”
Parkinson was quiet for a few moments, studying his face, then turned to lay on her back. “Well, fuck him, he’s an asshole.”
“Yes” Harry agreed, staring up the ceiling in silence, remembering the hurt look in Malfoy’s eyes.
“Maybe it’s a good thing” she said eventually. “Maybe you can finally forget about Potter and move on now.”
Harry didn’t reply. What he’d said was unforgiveable, the words spoken not so much out of honesty as with the purpose of hitting Malfoy where he knew it’d hurt him. But he didn’t want Malfoy to forget about him, he wanted to fix it. He sat up quickly, swung his legs over the bed and bolted for the door.
“Draco!”
He whirled around and found Parkinson rolling her eyes at him. “Whatever reckless thing it is you’re about to do this time, you should at least wear trousers.”
“Oh, right.”
While running through the corridors, looking for Malfoy, Harry forgot to stay alert and once again he found himself on the floor, this time caught by a tripping jinx. He swore and stared up into the faces of a bunch of second year Gryffindors. They would be no match to him and wouldn’t have been to Malfoy either, perhaps they knew it because they remained frozen with their wands raised midair, unsure of what to do next. Harry sighed, wondering if there was some way to put an end to these attacks.
“Why are you doing this?” he asked wearily.
They looked at him like he’d said something utterly stupid.
“Because you’re a death eater.”
“I’m not anymore and I never wanted to be one in the first place” he said. “Voldemort forced me to take the mark.”
They flinched at the mentioning of the name but soon recovered and spoke all at once.
“You’re evil!”
“You tortured Harry Potter and his friends at your family’s place.”
“You put a body bind on Dumbledore in the astronomy tower so that he couldn’t defend himself when Snape killed him.”
“That’s not even true” Harry said exasperated. “And you must know that Snape was an ally to Dumbledore by now.”
Someone stepped out from an alcove and the kids turned around.
“It’s Potter” one of them said triumphantly. “He’ll tell you how much he hates you, isn’t that right sir?”
Malfoy looked lost for words, perhaps it was the sir.
“He really doesn’t hate me” Harry said.
“I don’t?” Malfoy asked in disbelief.
“Of course he does” one of the kids said.
“Quite the opposite, I’d say” Harry smiled, unable to keep a straight face.
Malfoy stared at him, mouth hanging slightly open.
“We might not have been the best of friends in the past but he knows me better now and I’ve grown on him a fair bit, one might even say he likes me.”
“Really?” Malfoy asked.
The kids looked between them, apparently finding their exchange odd. “Are you imperiused, sir?” the tallest boy asked. The question seemed to bring Malfoy back to his senses.
“That is literally the most stupid question I’ve ever heard” he snorted. “I am Harry Potter, the chosen one, conqueror of dark lords, your savior. I’ve been able to deflect an imperio since I was five years old and I could turn you all into dust by simply snapping my fingers.”
Harry groaned inwardly, caught between amusement and exasperation.
“Which I won’t of course because I have a heart of gold and…”
Harry cleared his throat and Malfoy interrupted his rant. “Well, sod off” he said to the kids. “And don’t call me sir again, I’m eighteen years old for fuck’s sake.” They stared at him as if frozen and when he raised his hand, snapping his fingers, they all fled.
“Smooth” Harry muttered.
Malfoy shrugged, then held out his hand to pull Harry up from the floor. Encouraged by the outstretched hand, he sprang to his feet with a little more force than intended and knocked into Malfoy.
“Sorry” he mumbled, putting his left hand on Malfoy’s upper arm for balance, letting his fingers linger on the soft fabric of his robe a little longer than necessary.
“Did you mean that?” Malfoy asked. “You really aren’t angry?”
Harry shook his head. “No, I watched the memories. You did well, I should probably thank you.” He fiddled with the hem of his robe. “And I know you didn’t tell anyone, Pansy just overheard Ginny talking to Luna about it.”
“Oh” Malfoy said, his eyes flickered to Harry’s left arm where the mark had come visible as the buttons had torn from the hex. They both looked at it.
Harry sighed and took a deep breath. “I shouldn’t have said what I did. I don’t really care about his.” He let his fingertips brush the inked skull. “I know you do though, that’s why I said it. I was just angry. I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry.”
Malfoy looked at him for a long time before he shrugged. “OK” he simply said.
“OK?” Harry echoed. “Just like that? Shouldn’t you be more angry? You should at least attempt to hex me, I’d even let you get one for free.”
It was Malfoy’s turn to fiddle with his sleeves. “You know I’m no good with apologies, Potter. You got upset and said some insulting stuff, so what. It’s not like I haven’t done the same to you and your friends over the years. If I ‘d let you hex me for every time I’d probably end up permanently transfigured into a flobberworm.”
Harry smiled despite himself. “That’s different though. We weren’t exactly friends then so it didn’t really bother me most of the time. And this week, we’ve been…” He stopped himself, unsure if the word friends was the right one and whether Malfoy would accept it. “Well, if you want to start over, I’ll be OK with that” he finished instead.
Malfoy looked up and nodded. “OK” he repeated, his eyebrows shooting upwards as if to say now what?
*****
Draco was staring at Potter uncertain of where to go from this unfamiliar place of forgiveness and aspiring friendship but then Potter’s face broke into a mischievous smile.
“Parkinson has had some interesting things to say about you this week.”
“Yeah?” Draco’s heart sank, he had a pretty good idea of what that would have been about. He tried to maintain a neutral expression, feigning ignorance but it was of course no use. Trust Potter to rub it in his face.
“About your … preferences.”
He twisted uncomfortably. “I’ve already told you I’m gay, Harry.” There it was again, the slip to his first name. Damn Weasley and Granger.
“Convenient as that is, it wasn’t what I meant.”
“Convenient?”
Potter took a step closer to him and Draco felt his throat go dry. “Mm” Potter said, his finger coming up to trace Draco’s jawline, which was covered in stubble again since he hadn’t dared another attempt at shaving after last time’s disaster. “She said, what was the phrase…oh yeah, that you fancied me.” Potter grinned from ear to ear.
Draco scowled and cursed Pansy for making him sound like a fourteen-year-old girl but defied his impulse to stalk off and remained where he was, bravely meeting Potter’s eyes. Potter was still grinning, though the grey eyes were warm and the fingers tracing his jaw were gentle. “I find that rather convenient too” he said.
“Really, why is that?” Draco asked, trying to keep his voice steady and uphold some of his dignity although his knees where threatening to buckle.
Potter replied by backing him up against the wall and putting his tongue in his mouth once more, yet with much more confidence than last time. Draco closed his eyes and allowed himself to be kissed in an echo of the day before and found it to be even nicer without the bitter taste of guilt and hesitation.
The lips left his all too soon and he stared at Potter in a daze. To his delight, Potter looked about as out of it as he felt.
Somewhere in another world footsteps echoed down the hall, heading their way.
“Bathroom?” Draco asked faintly.
“Yeah.”
They were already on the second floor yet the walk through the long, winding corridors felt like miles. He was convinced they’d be interrupted on their way and the opportunity to hook up with Potter would slip through his fingers forever. He sped up his steps and Potter matched his pace until they were practically running. As the door slammed shut behind them, Potter caught his mouth with his and this time it lasted. Draco carefully stepped backwards, pulling Potter by the scarf, trying not to break contact with his lips until he was sitting on the sink, Potter conveniently positioned between his legs.
The most immediate shock of finding out Potter wanted him back had worn off and Draco became braver, trailing his fingers down his back, finding bare skin between the hem of his trousers and shirt. Perhaps it was taking things too far because Potter broke away.
“Maybe we shouldn’t do this here” he said awkwardly.
“Why not?” Draco asked, trying not sound impatient. Here was an excellent place to do it in his opinion, being very close and accessible. At least Potter remained between his legs.
“Someone told me about the importance of location for these kinds of events.”
Screw them Draco thought, but at the same time found it rather sweet that Potter had remembered his words from the other day.
“And..?” he asked because he could sense Potter had a long list of reasons not to be here with him, doing what he was doing.
“And it kind of reminds me of when Zabini…” Draco placed a finger on the pink lips to silence him, he didn’t need to hear about Potter getting off with Blaise in the dorm bathroom.
“Also, there are all these mirrors” Potter went on, his lips moving under Draco’s finger. “And it’s confusing enough with us looking like each other without having to stare at it.”
Draco nodded, fixing a stray of blond hair behind Potter’s ear. “Those are all valid reasons, although I believe all of them could be evaded if we just close our eyes.”
Surprisingly Potter obeyed and leaned forwards, meeting Draco’s lips. The kisses soon deepened and their bodies blended together. Draco was hard of course, and he shuddered in delight as he felt an erection pressing against his own and automatically pushed forwards, half expecting Potter to back away again but he didn’t, instead he met his hips, grinding against Draco.
“Fuck” he let out, the word sounding strange and hoarse in Potter’s voice but then Potter echoed “yeah fuck” in Draco’s familiar tone and it didn’t matter who was who anymore. They moved together in heat for a glorious minute before they came in their pants simultaneously.
Potter didn’t move away the way Blaise did after they were done but stayed with his arms wrapped around him, his chin leaning on Draco’s shoulder. He slowly opened his eyes and found their reflection in one of the many mirrors on the opposing wall. They both looked totally undone but also rather hot.
“I think we’ve taken back the bathroom” Potter said in a low voice, meeting Draco’s eyes in the mirror, a smile playing on his lips.
“Yeah” Draco mumbled, smiling back. “Who would have thought.” He carefully ran his fingers down Potter’s back. “Your hair is a mess” he added because the whole thing felt a bit sappy, and because it was, it looked like a pack of birds had been trying to make a nest in the blond fringe. He was pretty sure he’d never looked like that after anything he and Blaise had done, it was normally a few seconds work of pulling up their pants and rearranging their features before they headed back to their housemates, never giving away a sign of what had happened.
“Yours is a mess too” Potter said and drew his fingers through the black curls. His lips were red from the kissing and Draco noticed a mark on his neck he was fairly sure he’d put there.
“It always is.”
There was some more lazy kissing before Potter took a step back from him. “So, after tonight it’ll be over” he said.
“Yes, of course” Draco agreed stiffly. Potter getting adventurous while looking like someone else was one thing, Potter back to himself would of course not want to keep this up, Draco hadn’t really expected anything else so there was no reason he should feel like he’d just been punched in the gut.
“I think we should be together when we change back, it’ll be weird if you wake up in my bed and vice versa.” Potter’s hands were still on Draco’s back, trailing his spine in a promise of them still having a few hours together.
“You want to stay here until then?”
Potter made a face. “We don’t know what time it’ll happen, she just said 7 days, right? I don’t fancy staying in a bathroom all night.”
“What then? You suggest we sneek out to a hotel?” It was half a joke, but he wouldn’t mind getting a whole night with Potter in a comfortable bed where he’d get the chance to repeat what they’d just done, preferably with less clothes on.
“We’ve got the cloak” Potter said. “One of us could sneak into the other’s bed underneath it.”
“I’m not waking up next to Weasley” Draco stated firmly. “As me” he added.
Potter snickered. “Slytherin it is then.”
Draco considered it, they would probably get away with it. Theo and Blaise usually took care to ignore him when he was in what Blaise called his “funny mood”, referring to the times when Draco plucked up enough self-esteem not to let Blaise near him for a couple of days. Besides, having Potter in his bed would provide Draco with enough wanking material for the next year.
“Alright” he agreed.
“I’ll be out for the rest of the night” Draco told Weasley, because Potter had made it clear that he and Granger would start a search patrol if they noticed him missing.
“Right” said Weasley, not taking the eyes of the magazine he was reading, which was odd coming from the guy who went mental when he heard Potter as much as breath a word in his sleep, but it was just as well that Draco didn’t need to elaborate on where he was going.
He took one last look around the room he wouldn’t see again. Apart from the horrible evening Granger had spent in Weasley’s bed, he’d had quite a good time here, Longbottom and Weasley proving to be surprisingly pleasant roommates. But there was of course no need to get sentimental.
“Night then” he muttered as he went for the door.
“G’night.” Weasley sounded somewhat amused. “Have fun with Malfoy” he went on.
Draco stilled with his hand on the doorknob, trying to come up with a reply but decided against it, in a few hours he’d be back to himself and this would be Potter’s mess to sort out. It was his fault for sending that owl after all.
He heard Weasley snickering before the door closed behind him.
*****
Harry beamed at the empty spot in front of him. He’d heard the footsteps coming towards him and at one point the cloak had flapped, revealing a pair of black shoes that would never be as shiny again once he was back to wearing them himself.
“You’re late” he said. There was no reply but he imagined there to be some scowling and eyerolling going on in front of him. They set off down the corridor to the Slytherin common room together, his heart beating with excitement; he was going to get into bed with Draco Malfoy.
Nott was already fast asleep and Zabini took great care to pretend he didn’t exist, keeping his back turned, so all in all, getting Malfoy behind the bed curtains unnoticed wasn’t difficult.
“Blaise?” Malfoy called out and sniggered at Harry’s panicked hushing. “Just testing how good your muffliato is” he said and when there was no reaction he stretched out on the bed.
Harry copied him. “Did you tell Ron you were going to be gone for the whole night, because if he…”
“Yes, Potter” Malfoy interrupted “because you told me to about five times”. Then he turned his face towards the ceiling, frowning a little. “I didn’t tell him where I was going but I should warn you that he did have a fair idea anyway.”
Harry laughed. “Yeah, it’s probably Hermione’s fault, she usually picks up on things.”
He watched a small smile playing on Malfoy’s lips, as if he found Harry admitting there was something going on between them funny. Though it wasn’t strict amusement, more like …contentment. Happiness? It was similar to the look he’d had when flying.
“That owl was a bit of bad timing” Malfoy said, now definitely amused. “I didn’t think Weasley would recognize Poseidon.”
That was kind of naïve, Harry thought. Poseidon stood out as a bird just as much as Malfoy did as a wizard. Of course Malfoy had gotten the most impressive looking eagle owl, a perfectly symmetrical pattern to his feathers and a haughty, aristocratic expression matching that of his owner. He’d seen him soar through the great hall countless times, always nailing the landing on Malfoy’s right shoulder, Malfoy letting him remain by the table until he’d finished his meal, stroking the feathers in a rare display of affection. Ron and Hermione had caught him staring a bunch of times and Harry had, with a pang of guilt, wiped the smiles off their faces by stating that he missed Hedwig. He wouldn’t give Malfoy the satisfaction of knowing any of this though.
“Why do you call him Poseidon?” he asked.
“It’s the Greek god of..”
“The oceans” Harry finished. “I know, doesn’t explain why you named an owl after him.”
“Why not?” Malfoy asked, staring at him in challenge, there was always a challenge wasn’t there?
“Come on, Malfoy, I was just curious.” Harry stared back and this time Malfoy gave in.
“In my family pets are usually named after mythological creatures, I once had a kneazle named Frigg, after the norse goddess of foresight.”
“Yeah?” Harry smiled, thinking Frigg didn’t sound much like a goddess at all. “Poseidon’s a better name.”
“Mm probably, I’ve always liked the ocean, I used to spend the summers at the riviera” Malfoy said dreamily, staring into the distance and Harry watched him in silence, trying to imagine a younger, carefree Malfoy lazing on the beach. After a few moments, he made a face as if the sun had clouded. “And I like the idea of water in general…as opposed to fire.”
Harry nodded in silence, knowing Malfoy had just said something rather personal. The moment felt fragile and he spoke carefully.
“I haven’t gotten a new owl after Hedwig.” He avoided looking directly at Malfoy but reached for his hand, intertwining their fingers. “She died, trying to protect me and I know it’s a bit silly but I don’t want anything like that to happen again, so I just use the school owls.”
There was a squeeze to his hand and before he knew it, he was being kissed. It wasn’t the forced, eager clashes of lips from earlier when they’d been attacking each other’s mouths as if there was no tomorrow, but warmer, gentler, like their first time. There was no hurry to it and the night laid open in front of them.
In the end, the warmth did turn into heat and their hands started pulling at each other’s clothes with robes, trousers and shirts being peeled off their bodies by careful hands until they were completely unshielded next to each other. Which should have been a good thing, except that Harry was now staring at his own naked body, taking in all the flaws of it, buckled knees, legs that he thought too skinny although they were in fact broader and more muscular than Malfoy’s, but while Malfoy pulled off being slim in an elegant fashion, Harry just looked underfed and disproportional and…
“So, back to feeling weird again, Potter” Malfoy sighed.
“Yeah” Harry said, turning away, not being able to stand seeing his naked self looking at him with sheer want. “I mean I do want…it’s not because of you, or rather it’s because you aren’t you, I can’t look at you being me, it’s too strange.”
Malfoy laughed. “I think you’ve found a whole new angle to the it’s not you, it’s me cliche.”
He moved closer to Harry so that his erection was pressing against Harry’s leg. Except that it was Harry’s erection, and Malfoy’s leg. “Oh Merlin.” He covered his face in his hands.
“One might say this is a unique opportunity to suck your own cock” Malfoy whispered into his ear.
“See, that’s what I mean. Too weird.”
“I don’t have a problem with it.” Malfoy moved down the bed so that he was positioned between Harry’s legs. Malfoy’s legs. Whatever. His head was going to explode soon.
“Of course you don’t you narcissistic bastard” he muttered, staring at the ceiling.
He couldn’t really blame Malfoy for wanting this beautiful body stretched out beneath him. He imagined what those, long, elegant limbs and perfect skin would look like from Malfoy’s position and tried to push the image of his naked self out of his mind. The idea of Malfoy enjoying sucking his own cock was much more thrilling.
“Just like I said before, there’s the simple solution with you closing your eyes” he heard just before he felt warm lips surrounding him, a tongue playing over his slit and he automatically did as told.
He briefly wondered if Malfoy was keeping his eyes open. And then he stopped thinking much at all because Merlin’s pants that felt good. He’d only had a brief go at this once with Ginny, an experience that had come to an embarrassing end with a neglected locking charm and Percy learning the hard way not to enter his sister’s room without knocking. Harry had been secretly relieved, because he had mostly been anxious about what he was going to do afterwards, if she would have wanted him to reciprocate. It had felt kind of good when she’d been going at it though, but nothing like this, because fucking hell…
He came down Malfoy’s throat without warning. Malfoy didn’t seem to mind but slowed down his pace until he stilled, remaining where he was until Harry’s cock turned soft in his mouth. Then he curled up next to him, pulling Harry close and thankfully not seeming to expect him to return the favor. Completely spent, he let himself drift off to sleep like that.
He woke what felt like several hours later, his insides twisting. He groaned in pain, thinking they should have thought this through. If the reversing of the spell was anything like when it was cast, they were going to puke their insides out in Malfoy’s bed in a second. But just as soon as it had started, it stopped. His hand went up to his hair which felt unusually messy and thick. He heard Malfoy cast a lumos and a second later he blinked against the light.
“Here.” Glasses were pushed onto his nose and Malfoy was peering down at him, the real Malfoy, blond, aristocratic and wonderful.
“Oh thank Merlin, you look like you again” he said and watched Malfoy’s face turn into a smile. It was gentler than he remembered it.
“You look like you too” Malfoy said. “Your eye has healed by the way. Shame, I kind of liked that sexy, battered look.”
Harry grinned. A quick tempus revealed it was two thirty in the morning but going back to sleep was the last thing on his mind now that he had Malfoy looking like Malfoy next to him. He pulled him closer, bringing their lips together.
“Leave the lights on” he said as he saw Malfoy reaching for his wand. “I want to see you.”
“So now you’re fine with it?” Malfoy asked amused but he dropped the wand on the bedside table and stretched out on the bed and he was fucking beautiful.
Harry came after just about a minute, his hand pumping Malfoy’s cock, sperm hitting his stomach a few seconds later and they came together in a sticky mess, not bothering with cleaning spells. Eager for more, though not physically able to have another go at it yet, he laid down next to Malfoy, drawing his fingers through the blond hair. For a moment it looked like Malfoy was going to tell him off but then he relaxed and leaned into the touch.
“Tell me something else” Harry asked softly because he’d come to realize during the past few days that he enjoyed talking to Malfoy almost as much as he enjoyed touching him.
“I fixed Rita Skeeter yesterday” came the response, Malfoy grinning in a very familiar way, having him think of Potter stinks badges and challenges to duels in deserted corridors.
“Fixed? You didn’t send your dads old pals after her did you?”
Malfoy snorted. “That concern is rich coming from you, didn’t you lot keep her in a jar for like a month?”
“Hermione might have” Harry grinned. “But she made air holes and fed her leaves and stuff, it was very humane.”
“I’m sure it was” Malfoy said, rolling his eyes. “And you wonder why she won’t lay off you.”
“Mm, I wish she would though” Harry muttered, almost missing the days when Skeeter had buzzed about in her animagus form instead of taken on a variety of glamours, making him suspect every stranger in the street. At least then a good insect repellent had done the trick.
“Well, then you might like this” Malfoy said and began telling Harry the most amazing story.
I love you he thought when Malfoy got to the end of it, surprised that the words had formed in his head. They were all too soon and he tucked them away to a place in his mind where they could rest and mature for later. “That’s the best thing I’ve ever heard” he said instead and watched Malfoy’s face light up.
It was enough for his cock to get back into the game and he moved closer. Careful to keep his climax at bay this time, he pushed away the hands that reached for him and focused on taking in the body stretched out next to him, letting his hands trail naked skin. Malfoy felt different now that Harry was touching him with his own hands. Smoother under his rough fingertips, cooler next to the pumping heat of his own body.
He seemed pleased with simply lying there, arms stretched over his head, and Harry watched him respond beautifully to the touch, a trail of goosebumps formed in the almost invisible hair on his arms, his nipples hardened and his cook swelled against his stomach. When he drew up his left knee and parted his legs Harry drew in a sharp breath and unable to keep away any longer, he rolled on top of him.
Great as it felt when they grinded together, it was nowhere near enough. He wanted Malfoy’s cock down his throat, wanted to feel Malfoy’s hands everywhere, wanted to push inside him and blend together with his body. Part of him was thinking he was making up for lost time when he hadn’t been doing this, another part knew he wanted to put as much touching between him and Malfoy on one hand and Blaise Zabini on the other.
“I want more, I want you in every way, I want to be inside you” he mumbled into Malfoy’s ear, not intending to say it aloud but unable to keep the words in. The warm body stiffened underneath him.
“You want…? I’m not..Potter I don’t think I’m ready to…” Malfoy looked flushed and Harry smiled at having made that smooth alabaster cheeks turn if not red then at least a slight pink.
It was OK of course, he wouldn’t push it, it was something people like Zabini did. But there was a desperate ache for closeness that needed to be stilled one way or the other. Perhaps they could…
He rolled onto his side, still taking care to keep their bodies close, drawing his fingers through Malfoy’s shiny hair, biting his lips thinking about it.
Malfoy’s eyes met his, a worried look on his face when he saw Harry's hesitation. “If you really want to, I guess we could try..”
Harry silenced him with a slow kiss. “No, you said you weren’t ready.” He trailed his hand along Malfoy’s thigh, extracting a moan from him when his fingers gently brushed his balls. He repeated the motion and watched the eyelids flicker and close, the pink lips came apart slightly.
Feeling brave he cleared his throat. “What if we do it the other way? I mean, if you do it to me?”
Malfoy’s eyes snapped open. “You mean?” He stared at Harry, his mouth hanging slightly open. “You’d let me?”
His astonishment made Harry grin and his cock grew impossibly harder. “Yes Malfoy, I’d let you.”
Malfoy stared at him for a few moments more before he practically jumped out of bed.
*****
Draco rummaged around in his locker, too excited to worry about waking his roommates but there weren’t any movements from the other beds. He soon found what he was looking for and dived back behind the curtains, casting the strongest muffliato he could muster and a silencing charm at that to block out Nott snoring.
“So that’s the blue one” Potter said amused, looking at the vial in his hand. “The one that shouldn’t go in your precious hair” his fingers went up to comb the fringe out of Draco’s eyes.
“Don’t get any ideas” Draco said warningly, knocking his hand away. “Besides, I’ve got better plans for this.”
He gave it a shake before he uncorked it, trying to seem confident although his trembling hands gave him away. This was new to Potter too, he reminded himself and Draco had fingered himself a bunch of times which he bet Potter never had so he should have an advantage.
“How do you want to do this?” came Potter’s voice, a slight tremble to it.
Any way, every way, he really had no idea. A series of sexual positions from the magazines under his bed flashed before his eyes, each more advanced than the other. “On your back” he said firmly not to let his insecurity show but added “if that’s OK with you” when he heard how bossy it came out.
“It’s fine” Potter said, laying down. “I want to see your face.”
“Sap” Draco muttered, then kissed him to make up for the insult.
Potter spread his legs wide and he had to avert his eyes back to the vial not to come at the mere sight. He poured about half the contents into his palm, which was probably too much, but it wasn’t like he needed to save it for a better opportunity. It was enough to smear Potter’s cock, balls, rim, all of his own fingers and cock – and make a large puddle in the bed. The poor house elves would probably never get the stains out.
His fingers circled the rim and he watched a display of feelings on Potter’s face, going from skeptical to curious to mild enjoyment to - a loud groan escaped the slightly parted lips- well, that.
“OK?” Draco asked.
“Yeah, more than OK” Potter grinned. “You could, you know, try a finger or something.”
Potter was tight, resisting the intrusion of Draco’s fingertip. He leaned down to kiss him as a distraction which worked well enough for Draco to be forgetting what he was supposed to be doing and not until Potter gasped into his mouth did he remember himself and pushed inside up to the first knuckle. Potter gasped again, though out of pain this time.
He stilled and drew the fingers of his other hand through Potter’s hair. “You OK?”
“Yeah” Potter mumbled, making a face. He looked vulnerable like this, with his eyes closed and one of his hands twisting the blanket.
“You’d let me know if you wanted me to stop, right?”
The eyelids fluttered open. “I’ve called you a bastard to your face for years, Malfoy, I think I’d be OK to tell you to get your finger out of my ass.”
Draco chuckled. “But you’re not?”
Potter shook his head. “No…feels weird though.”
“I know” Draco said. “Takes a minute or two to adjust, specially the first time.”
“I thought you hadn’t…”
“Only to myself” he said quickly and watched Potter grin.
“Fuck, that’s hot” he mumbled. “I’d like to see that.”
“Now? My hands are kind of busy elsewhere.” He dared to move a little, drawing the finger out an inch and when Potter didn’t object, he pushed back inside.
“It’s not totally bad” he said after a few strokes, relaxing a bit around him.
“Not totally bad? Merlin don’t overdo yourself there, Potter. That’s everything I ever wanted to hear from you when I’d get you into bed. It’s not totally bad.”
Potter laughed, the green eyes bored into his, bright and warm. He’d had no idea sex could be like this, gentle, light. That it could make you laugh.
“You’ve thought about it then, getting me into bed?” Potter smiled.
Draco felt a twinge of annoyance with himself for what he’d said and had an impulse to take it back, but after this week there weren’t really any shields left for him to pull up. “You know I have” he said and Potter nodded.
For a moment it looked like he was going to say something sappy. “I think I’m ready for another” he let out instead.
Draco grinned, retracted his hand and rubbed lube over his middle finger. This time he slid inside without contraction and he was pretty sure the moan Potter made was at least seventy percent pleasure. He moved his hand faster this time and Potter was pushing back against him, his fingers twisting in the blanket but it didn’t look like it was due to pain now. Draco was glad Potter wasn’t touching him, it felt like he could come from a single stroke.
Over the years he’d come to think the hottest thing in the world was a red faced, furious Potter staring daggers at him. He’d been wrong. This was, the Potter laid out below him, his eyes fluttering open and staring at Draco in amazement.
“Prostate?” Draco asked with a small smile.
“Maybe, probably” Potter mumbled, sounding slightly out of breath and Draco let his fingers run over the same spot.
He would have been happy to do this all night, but when Potter took the third finger without as much as a wince, he knew it was time for business and moved down the bed, pushing his thighs apart with his own. Potter spread for him, pulling him close. The question was redundant but he asked it anyway. “Can I?”
Potter nodded. “Yeah, just, you know, go slow and all that”. He phrased it like a joke but still blushed and it was such a turn on and sweet at the same time that Draco had to kiss him for a whole minute before he pushed inside.
He had found his fair share of what could be described as porn in the shops in Knockturn Alley three summers ago but there were no books, magazines or pictures that could have prepared him for the warm heat surrounding him. It felt like he could feel his own magic in every pore of his body. It was all going to his cock, wanting out and he had to still himself, resting the top of his head against Potter’s shoulder, breathing hard. He didn’t know how long he stayed like that, merely focusing on the spot where his forehead connected with Potter’s skin.
“You know, when I told you to go slow, I didn’t mean this slow” came an amused voice in his ear.
“Shut up, Potter, I’ll come if I move” Draco mumbled.
“It’s alright if you do, it’ll last longer next time” Potter said, stroking his fingers down his back and Draco shivered, not so much at the touch but at the words. Potter was going to let him do this again. Not that he would want to be boyfriends or anything or even want to talk to Draco in public, but the fact that he was happy to secretly return to Draco’s bed was much more than he’d expected. Perhaps he should have skimped on the lube a bit after all.
“I didn’t think you’d want to keep up with this after tonight” he mumbled.
“Why wouldn’t I?” Potter said surprised.
“You said so before.”
“I’m pretty sure I didn’t.” Potter’s hand had gone into his hair now, pulling at it until Draco turned his head to watch him.
“You explicitly said it would be over after tonight.”
Potter was silent for a while.
“Did you think I..? That wasn’t…I was talking about the spell being over, not …this” Potter squeezed him tighter.
“Oh” Draco didn’t know what to say but dared to slowly slide out of Potter and back in again. They moaned in unison.
Again, Draco lost the concept of time, not knowing how long it was before his stomach was sprinkled with spunk. It was one moment dragged out through time, feeling like it lasted for ever and yet it wasn’t long enough. Perhaps it had happened in a heartbeat, it didn’t matter. What mattered was that Potter came first with a soft whisper of Draco’s name into his ear. His given name, not the Malfoy that had come out of that mouth so many times over the years, perhaps spoken more friendly this past week yet alienating enough to maintain the distance between them. It was enough to push him over the edge and he came, far louder than he’d ever before. Neither that mattered, not when he was kissed by soft lips. Not when he wasn’t pushed away with a sneer half a minute later but allowed to stay in the embrace until his head emptied of every thought and he fell into a warm sleep next to Potter. Harry, he corrected himself before he drifted away.