“Harry. Harry. You there, mate?”
A hand waved in front of his hand and Harry jolted but to reality. He glared over at Ron, “What? Is it important? I’m busy.”
Ron groaned, “Leering at Malfoy is not important.”
“Says you,” Harry said absently, already staring at Draco again.
“We should be doing revisions,” Hermione said, doing revisions; a book and a sheaf of notes floating in front of her as she shifted a sandwich to her mouth without looking.
“Actually, it’s time to eat, at the eating time, in the eating place, Mione,” Ron said patiently. He didn’t try to touch her notes. He tried that last week and ended up with a welt on his arm that lasted two days.
Harry hummed in agreement, “I’ll study during class and study times, not now.”
“I’d rather be studying than watching you stare at Malfoy’s arse every meal,” Ron said.
Harry shrugged, “Draco’s fit, you’re the ones who’ve lost the plot.”
“Just you, mate,” Ron said, “just you. Nobody else thinks Malfoy’s fit. Did a survey and everything, it’s just you.”
Harry tore his eyes away from Draco to give Ron a look, “Yeah, well, beforemaybe. During the war he looked like an half-starved house elf but now? Can a summer rebuilding the castle make you so fucking gorgeous? He looks like he was carved from marble!”
“Can you stop, please?” Ron said plaintively.
Harry was back to staring at Draco again, trying to catch a glimpse of slate grey eyes, watching each dip of his head that caught the light changing his hair from blond to white and back again.
Ron scrubbed his hand through is hair, “Merlin’s beard, I would give anything to go back in time and stop Luna from telling you about bisexuality.” He sighed and looked down the table, “Ginny too.”
Ginny was sitting a ways down the table, Luna at her side. They were sitting close together, holding hands and laughing together.
“At least she’s happy,” Ron said glancing sidelong back at Harry.
“Harry’s just fixated,” Hermione said absently, a large piece of lettuce falling out of her sandwich, the cheese slipped precariously, “They do that, the two of them.”
“I’m not fixated,” Harry said, frowning faintly, “I’m just… enjoying the view, sort of thing.”
“When do you get tired of the view then?” Ron asked flatly, “Beeeeen a month now, mate.”
Harry spared him a glare, “Maybe I am fixating. So? I’ve earned it haven’t I? No more prophecies, or fate or homicidal madmen leaving bits of their soul lying about,” He grimaced, “Nasty habit that.”
“Oh is that what it is now?” Ron said in a strained tone, “Worst time of my life. But it was just a pesky habit of old Tom.”
“Just joking,” Harry said, “I won’t if you’d rather.”
“I’d rather,” Ron said flatly.
Harry met Ron’s eye and patted his shoulder companionably, “Right. Sorry.”
“And right back to it,” Ron muttered under his breath as Harry went back to eating with his gaze fixed firmly on Draco.
“Do you suppose he might be gay?” Harry asked mostly to himself.
“No.” Ron said flatly.
Harry’s fork hung in the air, half way between the plate and his mouth caught in contemplation, “Wonder how many people he’s been with.”
Ron muttered, “None, pureblood rubbish.”
Harry wet his lips, “Must be experienced.”
Ron snorted, “Doubt it.”
“And that mouth,” Harry sighed, “Can you even imagine what he can do with that-”
Ron clapped his hand over Harry’s face, “Can you please keep those thoughts in your head? I’m begging you, Harry. As your best mate, please.”
Harry nodded, looking put out, and finished his meal in a bit of a sulk.
Before they had even left the great hall Hermione was ordering them to the library with a glare that indicated she knew exactly how little revision that had done so far. Ron groaned and fell in line.
“I left my stuff up in the dorm,” Harry said pointing in the general direction of the Gryffindor tower.
“Of course you did,” Hermione huffed, “Hurry up, or I won’t help you with the Potions assignment.”
Harry made a show of jogging down the hall but slowed to a walk once he was out of sight and then turning down one of the small side hallways most students never used. It would let him get to the tower without running into any other students and if it took three times longer, well it was unavoidable, wasn’t it?
He hummed under his breath and he walked slowly through the narrow hallway. A prickle of unease at the back of his mind grew, finally resolving itself into the knowledge that he was being followed. He did his best to not show he knew, walking casually, stuffing his hands in his pocket and grabbing his wand.
As soon as he turned a corner, he pressed his back to the wall and drew his wand, aiming it at where his stalker would first come into view. He held his breath, a stunning spell on the tip of his tongue when Draco Malfoy rounded the corner, looking uncertain and a little nervous. He jumped slightly when he saw Harry but quickly hid it behind his unflappable Malfoy mask.
“It’s you,” Harry said a little dumbly then put his wand away with a sigh, rolling his shoulders and leaned back against the cool stones.
Draco’s watched him put his wand away and with a faint frown, looking faintly annoyed that he wasn’t considered enough of a threat for a drawn wand.
Harry raised his eyebrows, “What is it?” he asked, mostly succeeding in keeping his voice even.
“Potter, I would appreciate it if you would stop staring at me.” Draco said.
Harry managed to pull his eyes away from Draco’s elegant neck, meeting the sharp edge of his jawline, “What?” and silently cursed himself for letting his voice drop into something a little too rough and deep.
Draco narrowed his eyes at Harry, his voice none-the-less remaining even and cold, “I have served my time. I was acquitted, with help from yourself no less,” he stepped closer to Harry in a faint swirl of robes, “I do not appreciate being stared at like some sort of deviant you are just waiting to-”
Harry was staring at Draco’s lips and absently licked his own.
“What- What are you doing, Potter?” Draco asked, his voice sounding strangled, his breathing picking up.
He looked up, Draco was flushed faintly, just at the top of his cheeks. Harry could see freckles of blue and silver in his grey eyes. “…Staring.” Harry said, feeling caught out and somewhat turned on.
“Why?” Draco asked faintly, trying to sound forceful and failing miserably.
Harry licked his lips again, “Well, ‘suppose, because I can’t touch you.”
Draco’s breathing stopped for a second and came out in a shudder. He looked down at Harry’s mouth and then quickly back up, the flush on his cheeks deepening.
Feeling daring, and spurred on by more than one fantasy that started just like this, Harry reached up and brushed his fingers along Draco’s neck and down, his fingers disappearing behind the tall starched collars of Draco’s robes. His skin was soft, warm. Harry could feel the fluttering of his pulse just beneath the surface
Draco swallowed hard, “You’re-”
“Touching you,” Harry said transfixed by the top of Draco’s collarbone which he could feel but not see and was debating whether it would be wise to pull Draco’s robes out of the way.
Draco’s voice was hardly more than a breath, “Why?”
“Because you haven’t stopped me yet,” Harry said. He looked up.
Harry was suddenly a lot more aware that this was not a wank fantasy and he was just caressed someone he’d not been on good terms with and barely spoke to and mostly just stared at like a walking sex advert. Because Draco wasn’t a perfect being carved from marble; he was flushed, his eyes frantically studying Harry’s expression, his lower lip moist like he had pulled it between his teeth.
Nervous and a person.
Harry dragged his hand away.
“I haven’t stopped you yet,” Draco said faintly.
Harry wasn’t aware that all the air had been pulled from the room until it was suddenly back and he took a deep gulp of it like a drowning man. He clutched Draco’s robes, tugging on them until Draco stepped closer. Harry slid his hand down Draco’s chest and relishing the feeling of him shuddering under his touch.
Draco shifted a half step closer still, lifting one shaking hand to brace on the wall above Harry’s head. His robes fell around them like a curtain, his head dipping down and casting the warmth of his breath over Harry’s cheek and neck.
Harry looked over at the face beside his, pale lashes fluttered over flushed cheeks. Harry’s trailing hand gripping into the soft knit jumper under Draco’s robes, the other hand reached up to run a single finger over Draco’s lips, which parted at his touch.
Draco turned his head, their temples brushing, pulling his head back just enough for their mouths to slide together. Harry sighed into the kiss. Desire tracing down his spine with every tentative careful kiss as they learned the shape, taste, touch of each other’s lips. Harry met the next kiss with the slightest brush of his tongue. Shapeless delight rushed through him at the faint noise of surprise from Draco and grew as Draco reciprocated with such hesitant care.
Harry released Draco’s jumper, both hands curling around his hips. He traced along the top of Draco’s trousers from the sides, around to the front, his thumb slipping around the buttoned fly and down along the zipper, tight with Draco’s erection. The light touch made Draco gasp against Harry’s mouth, leaning into him, pressing him tight to the wall.
Harry said, “You haven’t stopped me yet.”
“Don’t stop,” Draco panted breathlessly, eyes pressed closed.
Harry slowly slid the button of Draco’s fly free, lowered the zipper just as slowly, watching Draco’s face, the way his eyelids shivered.
He glanced down as he slipped his fingers under the edge of Draco’s pants, tugging them down until Draco’s cock sprang free, precum already welling at the tip. Harry slid his thumb over the delicate bead of liquid, smearing over the head. Draco twitched against him, his hips pushing forward without his permission.
Harry felt his own hip twitch like an echoing call and he grunted faintly at even the slightest pressure against his jeans. But Draco bit his lip to stifle his moans and Harry had to lean forward, pulling Draco into a kiss, drawing his tongue over Draco’s red bitten lip.
He paused just long enough to cast a wandless lubrication spell before sliding his hand down Draco’s shaft, taking his time, trying to memorize the feeling of it.
He touched Draco liked he touched himself, at first. Watching his face, the twitches, the groans, he learned the things he could do, the ways he could touch Draco, to bring him apart at the seams.
Until he was getting close, eyes pressed shut, panting heated breaths on Harry’s neck as Harry stroked him a little faster, a little tighter. He coaxed moans from Draco, breathy fragile things that were swallowed up in the small space between them, so sweet they were nearly enough to make Harry come untouched.
Draco clutched at Harry’s robes, “I’m- I-” he shuddered, biting his lip again as he came, collapsing against Harry all at once.
Harry groaned, stroking Draco though his orgasm, come mixing with slick lubricant in his hand.
Draco pressed his head into the cradle of Harry’s neck, his voice a faint whisper, “Clean me up?”
Harry managed a quick cleaning spell. His hands shook as he pulled Draco’s pants and trousers up, slowly rebuttoning them and wondering what would happen now.
Draco stood up slowly, his back going ramrod straight and his expression slowly smoothing, completely at odd with his utterly debauched appearance. “Well,” Draco swallowed, “that explains the staring.”
Harry smiled tentatively.
Draco fussed with his hair, half turning away from Harry, “I would be amicable to continuing this… conversation later. I was- It was- ” he glanced down at Harry’s erection still pressing tight in his jeans and away with a flush, “a little one-sided.”
“I’d like that,” Harry said, relief and excitement, “Anytime really.”
Draco’s cheeks reddened further, “I shall owl.”
He turned to leave and Harry grabbed his robes pulling him back and leaning up for another kiss, “Soon?”
“I-” Draco swallowed hard, “Yes. Of course.” He stepped away looking torn and hopeful, “You may continue staring if you like.”
Harry nodded and stared for as long as Draco was in view before slumping back against the wall with a sigh and smile on his face.