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Blame it on the Moonlight

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I’m exhausted, mind fried and body aching, as I walk up the flight of stairs to our flat. The one shining highlight after a long day of training is that in just a moment I will be home and seeing Draco. Just the thought thrills me, my heart fluttering like a lovestruck third year.

It’s ridiculous, of course, and with a heavy sigh I push away the amorous feelings that struggle to burst from my chest. Draco has always had a fierce hold over me, even back in school when my feelings towards him were filled with obsession and distrust. Every day is a battle, a fight against my desires and the overwhelming urge to surrender to them. I long to give in but I still cling to the tiny thread of resistance, building walls to keep my feelings in check. We are friends, flatmates and nothing more can ever come from this silly crush.

Our friends were surprised—as, honestly, was I—at the unlikely friendship Draco and I struck up at the end of the war. A few awkward conversations turned into amicable meetings over drinks until soon we were watching Quidditch games together and getting lunch every other day while Ron petulantly grumbled about that pompous git who was stealing his best friend. When actual said best friend decided to ask Hermione to move into the flat we had been sharing, it only seemed natural to ask Draco if he wanted to be roommates.

It had felt like such a great idea at the time, two good friends sharing a living space and having even more opportunity to spend time together. Of course, only a couple of months later, and I had no choice but to confront the terrible truth that I had been denying for the last year—I had gone and fallen for my new friend.

There is no use in lamenting over what can never be and I shake my head clear of such thoughts. I dismantle the wards and open the front door, my heart surging at the sight of Draco sitting serenely in the garish but well-loved armchair Luna bought us when we first moved in. A floor lamp streams golden light across his face as he peers up from the book he was avidly reading when I walked in.

“Welcome home.” His smile is warm and wide and my stomach flips at the sight.

“Hey,” I reply as casually as possible, removing my heavy robes and draping them across the sofa.

“You’re home late,” Draco states, putting his book down on the side table and standing to stretch. His shirt lifts ever so slightly and I’m treated with a glimpse of smooth, pale skin.

“Training went on for ages today.” I run my hand through the back of my hair, wincing slightly as my fingers catch on a few matted knots.

“What is going on with your hair?” Draco sighs exasperatedly, his lips curving into a bemused smile. “I feel like it gets more wild every day.”

“It’s not that bad,” I mumble. “I can’t help that it never wants to behave.”

“Have you used any of that conditioning potion I bought you last week?”

“I, er—” I chew my lip nervously. “I meant to, but then I forgot and Ron came over to watch some telly and—”

“That’s it,” Draco cuts off resolutely. “We’re taking care of this tonight.”

“But, it’s late,” I protest half-heartedly. The desire to spend more time with Draco far exceeds the complaints of my tired body.

“It won’t take long,” Draco promises, making his way towards the bathroom. “Come on.”

I follow him and smile to myself as I watch him fiddle with the bathroom light, cursing when the spelled-bulb flickers out and refuses to re-light. We never did quite manage to make the electricity work with magic. He sighs in defeat and pulls back the window curtain, allowing the full moon to fill the room with its soft, glowing light.

“This will have to do.” Draco marches off to the kitchen to grab a stool and sets it in front of the sink. “Sit.”

I’m grateful to be sitting, utterly content to watch Draco fuss around the cabinets while he locates the unopened hair potion he purchased for me. He’s wearing a navy cotton shirt, the material looks so soft I long to reach out and toy with the hem in order to feel it against my fingers. I resist, of course, and instead avert my eyes to study the thin pajama pants riding low on his hips. Nope, not much better and I exhale in relief when Draco tells me to lean my head back and close my eyes.

“Let me know if the water is too hot.” Draco’s voice is soft, fading gently with the sound of streaming water as it flows from the sink. “Tilt your head back a bit more.”

The water is warm and soothing as it soaks my hair and slides along the back of my neck. I have to bite the inside of my cheek when Draco’s hands join the water, his fingers tangling through my hair and carefully combing out the major knots. The sensation is relaxing and yet my heart pounds all the same, arousal tingling down my spine as his fingernails gently scrape against my scalp.

“Is the pressure okay?” Draco asks quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

I hum in reply, unconsciously pressing my head further into his capable hands. His fingers continue to glide through my hair, massaging my temples, his palms cupping the back of my head. A soft click fills the bathroom followed by the smell of sharp citrus and sweet vanilla. I inhale the lovely scent, shuddering when a cool gel-like substance touches my forehead and glides through the wet strands of my hair.

“Smells nice,” I murmur, lips parting on a silent sigh as Draco's hands tangle in my hair and rub the product in from root to tip.

“It’s the highest quality,” Draco replies, his voice surprisingly hoarse but his fingers are gentle as he continues to massage my scalp in a soothing rhythm.

I make the mistake of opening my eyes, tilting my head back to find Draco watching me intently in return. His eyes are bottomless pools of silver, compelling and utterly unreadable. The moonlight streams in through the open window, his pale hair gleaming in the steady light. The muted blue hues filtering through the blinds cast shadows on his face, softening his sharp edges I’ve come to love so much.

“I have to rinse it out,” Draco says, his gaze never leaving mine.

I nod slightly in response, closing my eyes once again and shutting out the enticing image above me. The water splashes against my nape and Draco’s hands sink into my hair once more, his fingers gliding through much easier than before. His movements are fluid and controlled, sensual in their tenderness and my cock stirs with interest as I mentally curse myself for becoming so affected. Only I could turn something as innocent as Draco washing my hair into another fantasy filled with yearning and barely suppressed desire. His fingertips dance along my hairline, feather light, and a quiet moan unwilling escapes from my lips.

“Okay, it’s all done.” Draco says shortly, clearing his throat and pulling his hands free from my hair.

I blink a few times and slowly stand up, rivulets of water dripping down my back.

“Hold on.” Draco shakes his head in playful exasperation before turning away. “Let me get a towel.”

“Can’t we just use a drying charm?” I peel my damp t-shirt off and toss it on the ground.

“No,” Draco scoffs, his expression becoming tight as he turns around and his eyes fall to my bare chest. He coughs lightly. “The drying charm will take away all the moisture we just built into your hair. We’ll have to do it the Muggle way.”

The towel is rough against my skin but Draco’s movements are delicate, slowly rubbing back and forth over my wet hair. There is nowhere else to look but directly at him and my eyes skate over the faint flush staining his high cheekbones, the subtle curve of his lips, the sharp lines of his jaw. His eyes meet mine and he looks startled for a moment before understanding dawns in that molten silver and I know he’s seeing everything I’ve been trying to hide. I can feel the denial rising in my chest but it gets stuck somewhere in my throat; my heart is racing and a bead of sweat forms along my brow. I can’t hide my feelings, not anymore, and I know all my desires are displayed plainly on my face. Draco eyes widen, the flush on his cheeks deepen and he drops the towel, allowing it to fall on the floor behind me.


His voice is all but a whisper and he speaks my name like a question, like a plea and like an answer all at the same time. I’m lost in his eyes, pinned by his gaze and I’m not even sure who moves first but suddenly our lips are meeting in the middle and I feel as if my heart could burst out of my chest.

His lips tentatively brush against mine, soft and sweet, sending shock waves of pleasure down my spine. I feel as if all the air has been knocked from me, the effect is dizzying and I sway against his body, my mouth opening on a ragged inhale. Draco’s arms snake around me and he holds me close, taking the opportunity to slip his tongue inside my waiting mouth. The wet slide of his tongue against mine shatters something deep inside of me and suddenly I’m moaning into his mouth, seeking more, needing to devour him whole.

Draco nips at my bottom lip, the sharp bite of pain quickly soothed by a smooth lick of his tongue. His mouth travels along my jaw, catching on the stubble there until he reaches my neck, placing open-mouthed kisses against my exposed throat. I arch into his touch, my thumbs digging into his hip bones, slipping into the elastic band of his pajama bottoms.

We stumble together out of the bathroom—towards his bedroom or mine—I couldn’t care less where we end up as long as we keep going. We’re both too frenzied to get that far and I’m quickly shoved against the hallway wall, his mouth over mine with his body pressed firmly against me. I can feel the warm weight of his cock on my thigh and my own prick throbs in sympathy, desperate for any friction it can get.

Draco rocks against me, the thin fabric of his pajamas doing little to conceal the rigid outline of his thick cock. My hands scramble at my trousers, breathing a sigh of relief when Draco helps me push them down my thighs, his hands brushing against the bulge in my tented pants. My stiff prick twitches at the contact and my pants become damp with drops of sticky pre-come. I want him so badly, have wanted him for so long, and everything feels like a blur of heat and desire. I want it to last, to stretch this moment forever, but my body refuses to listen to the muted cries of my mind. My hips press against Draco's, returning the pressure as he grinds his cock, so hot and full beneath his pajama bottoms, against my thigh. His hands glide up my chest and brush against my sensitive nipples, sparks of sensation spreading through my body. I cry out in pleasure and Draco’s mouth swallows the sound, tongue tracing along the roof of my mouth.

Draco adjusts our bodies and my pants-covered cock slides against his and the last ounce of restraint holding me together snaps. I grasp at his shoulders and spin us around, shoving Draco against the wall with my body weight pressed against him. His head connects with the wall with a loud thud but he doesn’t seem to care—his only response is a desperate mewl that travels directly to my cock.

I begin to rut in earnest, my dripping cock on the verge of explosion as it slides against Draco’s answering hardness. I think I start to babble words, but their meaning remains lost to me even as they spill from my mouth, my body taut and ready for release. I thrust once, twice more and my cock pulses against Draco’s, the damp fabric of my ruined pants now soaked with my sticky seed.

Draco’s eyes are dark with desire, his pupils blown wide and I drop to my knees without a second thought. My body still vibrates with the aftershocks of pleasure and with shaking hands I pull Draco’s thick cock from the slit in his pajama pants, the fevered flesh hot against my hand. Draco groans so beautifully when I wrap my lips around the swollen head, lapping away the drops of pre-come spilling from the tip.

He tastes delicious and I open my mouth wider, tipping my head back in gratitude for the gift of Draco’s cock sliding down my throat. His hands sink into my hair, the same ones that so gently washed my wild locks minutes before, now greedy and desperate as they tighten their hold. He grasps at the thick strands, pulling and tugging in time with the steady rocking of his hips. The tip of his cock hits the back of my throat and I gag slightly at the intrusion, eyes watering when he pulls out nearly all the way. I peer up at him, amazed at his look of wonderment and the silent question that lingers unasked on his lips. He doesn’t need to ask, never needs to ask anything again. He can have whatever he wants and I attempt to convey this with wide, honest eyes, nodding my head and smiling around his cock.

Draco exhales sharply, relief and desire warring for position on his face and he begins to rock his hips, thrusting that gorgeous thick cock deeper and deeper into my mouth. My jaw aches and I know my throat will be hoarse in the morning, but it’s a most delectable discomfort and I open my mouth wider in acceptance. Draco is cursing under his breath, roughly pulling on my hair and fucking my mouth for all it’s worth. I want to make him lose control, want him to unravel right here in this hallway, with me on my knees, my mouth filled with his cock. His movements falter, hips stuttering and I swallow whole-heartedly as my mouth fills with his release. He cries out sharply, head banging against the wall as his cock slips from my mouth, a trail of come still clinging to my lips.

He’s an absolute vision; moonlight filters through the windows, flooding the narrow hallway and Draco glows in the soft light. His creamy skin is illuminated in pale, blue hues contrasting beautifully with the dark flush spreading across his neck. Delicate blond lashes flutter and he breathes deeply, steadying his breath even as he slowly slides against the wall and sinks to the floor beside me. His hand seeks out mine, slender fingers curling around my wrist and gently stroking the sensitive flesh with his thumb.

“We should wash your hair more often,” he murmurs.

I laugh softly in return before the sound dies upon my lips. The reality of the situation crashes in and anxious nerves replace the pleasant afterglow.

“Draco, I—” I swallow roughly and continue. “I’ve wanted you for so long, so badly it hurts, but I didn’t want to ruin anything. We haven’t even been friends for that long and our friendship means the world to me. Our past has been so volatile and the last thing—”

My words are cut off sharply by Draco’s lips, his breath warm on my face as he mumbles against my mouth. “You worry too much. We’ll figure it out.”

“Together?” The words fall from my lips more question than statement.

“Together,” he agrees and any further concerns or questions are silenced with his soft, pliable mouth. I close my eyes and surrender to his searching kiss.

Draco has always had a hold over me and in this instant I am only too glad to submit.