It’s all fun and games until someone gets punched in the nose. Or at least, that’s the saying in Harry’s world. He had no idea why it always comes to this. He had been trying his hardest to flirt with Draco - the git - and yet still they’re here having a mouth battle. He still had no idea what he had said or done to piss Draco off in the first place, but here they were. Harry had been giving him little compliments for weeks, trying to get the fact that he had a crush on the other across without actually saying it. He showered him in compliments, praise, anything he thought would tell Draco how he felt. Though all the comments and such were definitely deserved, Harry felt like he might be doing it just too much. But that didn’t stop him from continuing.
Harry had wanted to cheer Draco on during the friendly match of Quidditch being played by the Eighth Years. They weren’t allowed to play in the tournaments, but they were given the equipment so that they could play on their own a bit. They were split into four teams - just like they always were. But this time since there weren’t many people who came back, the teams were much smaller and they only tossed around the quaffle. Sometimes if the game had enough participants they would take out the snitch. But today wasn’t one of those days.
Draco was on a roll today, he was scoring goals left and right. Absolutely dominating the team. Needless to say, Harry felt that familiar odd mixture of arousal, pride, and a bitter jealousy. But two of those three stood out more than the other one, and Harry cheered him on.
It wasn’t even a bad comment! All he said was ‘looking good Draco!’ and all at once the blonde had frozen stock still and very nearly fallen off of his broom. Harry had no idea what had happened, but after the match was over he found out for himself what was wrong.
“Potter you utter imbecile! ” Draco spat as he stomped towards the other, his face a reddish hue as his fists clenched at his sides.
“I told you! Stop calling me ‘Potter’. That’s not my name! Er.. Well I mean.. It is my name but-”
“If it’s your name why can’t I call you by it? Hm?” Draco crosses his arms over his chest, looking at Harry with a particularly venomous stare.
“Because I asked you not to! I’m Harry, and you’re Draco.”
“Oh so nice of you to clarify that fact Potter, but I had no doubts that I was not you. ” He scoffs at his, rolling his eyes as his bright hair flutters a bit in the wind.
“Come on!” Harry complains, and sighs. He runs a hand through his hair, probably making it messier than it needed to be. “Why are you so upset with me this time?”
Draco looked at him as though he had suggested that they should prance around naked in the Great Hall, as though he would very much like to personally admit Harry into the Janus Thickney Ward. “You can’t just do that!” He shouts, his voice practically just a squeak as he does so.
“What can’t I do?” Harry asks, unsure what it was that he did to make the other sound so much - and Draco would kill him for thinking this - like a ferret. The squeak was definitely reminiscent of when Moody - Barty Crouch - turned him into the white creature.
“ That Potter! You can’t just-” If it was possible Harry would have thought Draco’s cheeks became even more red. “You can’t just cheer me on!” He cries out, sounding desperate for a reason to be upset.
“I want to cheer you on though..” Harry says slowly, looking at him with a frown. “What’s so bad about me cheering you on.”
“Your little girlfriend would be jealous you’re not cheering for her!” Harry knew something was up at this point. Draco knew that Harry and Ginny had never gotten together after the war again. They loved each other like family - and had extremely different tastes anyway. She wanted girls more than guys, and the opposite was true for Harry.
Draco was just grasping at straws trying to come up with a reason to be mad.
“You know she and I broke up, why are you so stubborn? Why can’t I just cheer you on like a normal person would do?”
“Because it’s-!” Draco groans, rubbing his temples as though he were trying to rub the oncoming headache away. He opened his mouth to speak, a retort on his lips. But Pansy cut him off.
“Potter.” She says, walking over and pushing Draco back a bit. “Draco doesn’t want you to cheer him on-”
“I know that now . You don’t have to-”
“Because he has a crush on you.” Harry’s mind went blank, and Draco let out a very indignant squawking noise. As though he had just choked on air and was fighting for a breath.
“What?” He asks slowly, his eyes not rising from the blonde who refused to look at him. Draco instead was glaring at Pansy, trying to muster as much heat into the expression as possible.
“He likes you. Digs you. Enjoys your presence. Thinks you’re pretty. Wants to fu-”
“Pansy that is quite enough!” Draco shrieks out, a hand flying up to cover her mouth. At this point was when Draco chanced a look up at Harry.
The other boy’s grey eyes were glistening, as though he was torn between crying or fighting someone. It was the same look he used to get when he and Harry fought sometimes, back when they were younger. But this time his face changed the usual hatred in the expression. His cheeks were a bright red - almost cherry in colour. His mouth was in a carefully neutral line, so that if Harry showed disgust, he wouldn’t give his emotions away and could play it off as some sort of joke. But his eyebrows were drawn in as though he were confused, and with the way Harry probably looked, he should be.
Harry was smiling - no, positively grinning . His eyes were lit up like a Christmas tree behind his glasses, staring at Draco as though he were one of the seven wonders of the world. It took him ages, but he finally mustered up the courage to reach out to Draco. He took ahold of the other’s hand, relishing in the slight shock and interest that he found there as he pulled Draco to him.
The way Draco’s pale skin contrasted so vividly with Harry’s dark skin was a wonder in itself. Harry immediately felt that he would never have enough of the sight.
He didn’t say anything, and simply leaned in and pressed a kiss to the other’s cheek. Harry didn’t want to be too forward and just kiss his lips right away. He was sure that Draco had some sort of standard about-
Well. Harry stands corrected.
As soon as Draco’s emotions caught up with him, and he realized what Harry had just done, he pulled the other in and kissed him with so much passion that Harry was certain the air had been sucked out of his lungs. He wraps his arms around Draco’s waist, as the other wraps them around Harry’s neck.
The various cat calls and cheering were all ignored from the stands, but once they both needed a breath Harry pulled back and smiled at him.
“Why didn’t you just tell me? We could have been doing that ages ago.”
Draco rested his forehead on the other’s shoulder, sighing a bit dreamily as Harry ran his fingers through the blonde strands that fell against the back of his neck.
“What, scared Malfoy?”
Harry could feel the way Draco’s smirk curled against his lips, knowing that he picked up on the familiar challenge.