Hey, I'm relatively new with actually sharing the stuff I write with anyone. So please give me some honest advice! I love Drarry way to much, and I hope you enjoy!

-Darcy


"Potter, what the fuck were you thinking?"

Harry rolls his eyes and ignores the angry blonde behind him. Malfoy isn't even supposed to be in here, Gryffindor changing rooms are specifically out-of-bounds. Harry reaches the old oak benches and settles down to unlace his shinpads.

"Answer me, you prat," Malfoy says, leering over the shorter boy's head. His cheeks are flushed red from exertion and his brow is furrowed. Grey eyes are menacing and icy cold. "What were you doing? Don't you realise what you've done?" He practically spits at Harry.

Harry ignores him, and keeps his gaze on his own feet and steadily removes his padding. Malfoy roughly grabs the shoulder of Harry's Quidditch uniform and yanks him up from his crouched seat.

"Potter, you've just gotten the both of us disqualified from the whole fucking Quidditch tournament!" He shouts. Harry shoves him backwards with his right hand and scowls angrily. "You don't think I already know that?" He retorts, closing in on Malfoy.

The Slytherin isn't fazed, and doesn't move an inch. "Then why did you do it, you prick?" He throws yet another insult at the 'Boy Who Lived.'

"Did you think you could get away with it? Were you trying to sabotage me? Kill me?" Malfoy is getting even more worked up. When Harry doesn't answer, he smacks him across the jaw with a clenched fist.

Harry stumbles backwards in shock, rubbing the sore spot and suddenly becomes furious. His hands clench at his sides, and his green eyes flash. Malfoy notices and smirks slightly, finally, exactly what he had wanted. But he hadn't really expect Harry to retaliate. The cool, collected 'hero' had finally snapped.

Harry's hand grabs the front of Malfoy's green uniform and scrunches it up. Harry pulls the other boy towards him, and stares him levelly in the eye. "I did it, because I care," he mutters, eyes glinting in the poor lighting.

Draco let out an involuntary gasp, and Harry thinks he sees something flash in the silvery eyes. But then his face has become the familiar cool mask again, and his trade mark sneer curls his lips uglily.

A wave of something flushes through Harry. The hair on his arms stands on end and a shiver runs down his spine. Draco stares into those green eyes of Harry's and tries not to shudder. He tries not to think of Harry's strong, hard body pressed up against him. Harry's chest colliding with his through each panting breath. Harry's supple lips, inches from his.

As Draco stares greedily at Potter's lips his pink tongue slides across his pale lips. He freezes, realising he's given himself away and Potter freezes too. The tanned, raven-haired boy seems entranced by that single movement. So Draco does it again, slower this time. Harry's hand unclenches and slides down Draco's chest. Harry brings his other hand up to Draco's face and it's shaking. Gingerly, he ghosts his fingertips over Draco's lower lip. Draco whimpers slightly at the contact and closes his eyes, pushing himself into Harry's warm hand.

Harry sucks his own breath, and stares at the boy in front of him. Malfoy is usually sending snippy comments his way, scowling at him, and generally making his life misery. But right know Malfoy looks so innocent, vulnerable, and Harry likes it much more than he cares to admit. With his eyes shut, his fair eyelashes brush against his angular cheeks, which feel impossibly smooth under Harry's fingers. Harry gently traces the bridge of Malfoy's nose, into the crease under his eye and along his jawbone. Harry gently tugs Malfoy's chin upwards, and his enemy opens his eyes to meet him.

Draco looks at Potter, and finally sees Harry. He can feel his skin burning under Harry's fingertips and goosebumps are prickling the skin at the back of his neck. Carefully, slowly, he leans down, towards Harry's flushing face. His cool lips softly brush against the flowering bruise on Harry's jaw, and Harry shudders. Harry smells like sweat, wood and... vanilla. He tastes like vanilla too, and his skin is so, so soft. Draco greedily eyes the tanned skin of his neck, flowing into the tanned skin of his chest, under his Gryffindor red and gold uniform. He moves his lips over Harry's beautiful throat, placing butterfly kisses on the heated skin. Harry releases small whimpers, and moans as Draco hits a sweet spot, and he tentatively sucks the skin between his teeth and nibbles. Harry loudly groans and arches his back.

Harry roughly grabs the back of Draco's neck and drags his face up to his. The smirk on Draco's face sends even more blood to Harry's flushed face, and somewhere else. He smashes his lips against Draco's pale ones and melts into the feeling. As their mouths crumple against each other, Harry reaches up to run his hands through Draco's feathery locks and tugs. Draco groans from deep in his throat and hungrily wraps his arm around Harry's waist and kisses him harder.

Harry feels Draco run his tongue over Harry's lips, and he eagerly opens them. Draco's tongue softly slides into his mouth, and his knees buckle with the sensation. Draco strokes Harry with his wet tongue, and he tastes like chocolate. Magical waves of pleasure rock through Harry's body and his mind is racing. He's kissing Draco Malfoy, and he loves it.

Draco pulls back, dragging his teeth over Harry's lower lip and smirks, again. He rests his head in the space between Harry's jaw and shoulder, and breathlessly pants against Harry's sweaty skin. His cool breath makes Harry shiver, and he closes his eyes to pant too.

"I care too, Harry," Malfoy murmurs, lips caressing Harry's throat.

Harry gently tugs Malfoy upwards with his forefinger under his chin, still impossibly smooth and pale, and crumples his lips against his in a searing kiss.

"Thanks, Draco," he murmurs, between kisses.