*A.N: Frankietown? Back so soon? I know. I didn't take a very long break, huh? And I'm in college now! Woot woot! Okay...so here's the new story I talked about. It's my slash fic for Harry Potter...and there be some delicious Malfoy on Harry action! Lemons lemons lemos...what to do with all these lemons? Haha. I'm hoping for some of my readers from my last story...I love ya'll! If you're back, then hey! I missed you guys! If you're new to me, then welcome. I'm a pervert and I love it. Don't worry. You'll learn to love it too. Also, my gorgeous beta, i'm so glad you're still with me! I love you so much, babe! I know slash wasn't your thing, but thanks for telling me this story converted you. It made my ego cum. Read and review, because reviews make daniel radcliffe take off all his clothes.

Fucking Useless Rooster Alarms

Draco Malfoy cursed, looking in the mirror and scowling at his reflection. He had woken up late. He eyed the source of the problem. His broken Shrieking Rooster Alarm. Every morning the brightly colored marble rooster would shriek such things as "WAKE UP, YOU DUNCE!" or "OUT OF BED, YOU LAZY GIT!" A gift from his father. It seemed as though he'd gotten bored of simply insulting his son in person or by owl post. No, now he had marble roosters doing his job for him.

Draco supposed he must have somehow knocked it over in his sleep, because now all that was left of it was broken shards of bright red, yellow, and orange. And no one had bothered to wake him up. Though, if it had been him, he wouldn't have woken anyone up either. He would have left the unlucky git asleep. He was a Slytherin after all.

He cursed again, turning away from the mirror in distaste. He didn't have enough time to put a charm on his hair to make it it's usually gelled back self. Now his icy blonde locks were hanging over his bright grey eyes. His pale blonde hair was very messy; unruly, even. It looked like he had been freshly shagged. He hadn't really even had time to dress properly; He had on a white tee-shirt, green and black striped tie, and jeans. Jeans, for Christ sake! God. He must look like a filthy Muggle.

"Fucking bullocks, twatting, shit," Malfoy groaned, pulling on his shoes. He was so messy he looked like…like…fucking Potter. He looked as messy as Potter. What had his life turned to that Draco Malfoy looked like stupid fucking Harry goddamn Potter? There was really no time to ponder it over as he rushed out of the Slytherin dorms. He hadn't even had enough time to get his perfectly folded robes out and put them on, he was lucky to even have his Slytherin tie on. He shuddered to think of entering potions class in his jeans and white shirt.

"I look like such a twat." Malfoy grumbled to himself, now sprinting to the potions classrooms. He was getting odd looks from everyone he passed, but he didn't bother throwing insults or trying to explain himself. He didn't need to. He was a Malfoy. Still, he felt a rush of pink in his pale cheeks. And his fucking hair kept flopping into his eyes and he had to whip his head to get it out of the way.

"-out of uniform. What a disgrace!" He heard a portrait yell at him.

"Sod off!" He called back to it, but kept up his pace. By the time he was in front of the potions door, he looked even messier. For one, his white tee-shirt was no longer tucked into his jeans, and his tie was looser around his neck. His jeans had slipped lower, exposing a thin strip of white flesh and the black elastic band of his underwear. He took a deep breath and slowly opened the door, hoping he could sneak in. Though really, there was no point in hoping. He'd stick out like a muggle at a quidditch match. He peeked his head through the door. Bullocks. The class was already making potions. Severus was walking around the class, stopping at Longbottom's desk and eyeing his cauldron with obvious revulsion. He was saying something now, but Malfoy wasn't listening. He was more focused on trying to creep in as silently as possible. He had managed to ease his slender body through the tiny amount of room he had allowed himself through the slightly ajar door. He tried to close it silently behind him and was going to sneak to the empty seat left for him beside Crabbe and Goyle when the door creaked obnoxiously loudly. It was as though it was trying to bring attention to his presence. Everyone in the class turned their heads to see where the sound had come from. What they saw was a very out of uniform Malfoy with his hand on the doorknob and his eyes wide with horror. The Gryffindors were murmuring to each other, and loads of them were laughing under their breath. His eyes went to Potter and his crew of dimwits. Potter was smirking smugly and Weasley looked like he was about to wet himself with joy. Malfoy's expression turned into a cold snarl and he straightened his posture. Severus was eyeing him up and down, an eyebrow raised. The Slytherins looked properly shocked at his appearance. Crabbe and Goyle gawked at him dumbly.

"Go to your place, Mr. Malfoy." Snape said coolly, turning back to Longbottom, whose potion was now puffing out bright orange smoke that smelled of rotting pumpkins. Malfoy smirked. He had known Severus wouldn't get angry at him. If Potter had been late, Severus would have punished him. Malfoy took pleasure in that fact for a moment. His eyes flashed to Potters, and the expression on his face made him think Potter had just thought that himself. He walked with his nose in the air to his seat, trying his best to ignore the snickering Gryffindors. When he got to his table, Pansy turned to him.

"Where are your robes?" She whispered.

"My fucking alarm broke, didn't have enough time to get them on." Malfoy said, shrugging as though he wasn't embarrassed at how ridiculous he looked. Her eyes flashed to his hair.

"And your-?"

"No bloody time." Malfoy said, running his fingers through his out of character soft, silky hair. It felt weird.

"Well, you look…you look-" Malfoy took in a deep breath. She was going to say he looked like a muggle, "-good. You should always wear your hair like that."

Malfoy was shocked. "Are you mad?" Malfoy asked. She was eyeing him up and down with obvious appreciation. She must be lying. There was no way he looked good like this. Without wizard robes he felt naked. She was just sucking up to him because she fancied him.

"No really, you do. You look…bloody gorgeous actually. I mean, you always look fit, but today…" Pansy trailed off dreamily. He raised an aristocratic eyebrow at her. It was definite now. She was bloody bonkers. Crabbe and Goyle looked uncomfortable with the turn the conversation had taken, and to be honest, so was Malfoy. He knew he looked like a prat, and sometimes Pansy really laid it on too thick. He had never really liked Pansy that way, though sometimes he flirted with her when he was bored. He'd even fooled around with her once or twice. It only ever led to snogging or a little groping, but it never really did anything for him. He'd just have to resign himself to the fact that nobody was really going to be good enough for him. He was Draco fucking Malfoy. He really did deserve the best. Still, it felt good to have someone so obviously idolize you. But right now her simpering look was giving him a head-ache. Might as well throw himself into potions and try not to hear what the Gryffindors were most definitely whispering about him at the moment

Harry frowned at the potion he and Ron were currently trying to stop boiling over. It was a moldy green color, and it was supposed to be lime green.

"You put in the dried newt gizzards too soon." Hermione offered.

"Thanks heaps, Hermione. That's helped a lot. Now all we have to do is go back in time and-"Ron started.

Hermione reached forward and slapped him on the back of the head.

"Bloody hell, 'Mione," he said, rubbing the back of his head, ruffling the bright orange hair there and scowling.

"Serves you right for being so moody," Hermione said, though smiling a little.

Harry smiled, shaking his head. They should just shag already and get it over with. It was their 6th year and they had put it off long enough. It was obvious they fancied each other. He wasn't going to say anything about it of course. Snape had just walked over to Neville's table which was before Harry's.

"Shit. Snape's heading this way. He's probably going to make us start all over again," Ron said.

"Or drink the whole thing." Harry said, grimacing. The potion they were making was meant to be a potion which gave whoever drank it painful boils the size of apples. He wouldn't put it past Snape to make him drink it.

"You don't think-", Ron started, but a loud creak interrupted him. They turned, looking towards the sound. For a moment, he hardly recognized the person standing in the doorway. But the bright blonde hair immediately identified him as Malfoy. But he looked so….different. He was out of his uniform robes. His angular face was the same. His bright grey eyes were the same. But his usual snide expression, which made Harry want to punch the pointy git in the face was replaced with one of…horror and poorly concealed embarrassment. He almost looked like a muggle, if it weren't for the green and black Slytherin tie. He was wearing jeans which were low on his flat stomach, resting on his jutting out hip-bones. There was a clear V on his hips, leading down into his jeans. His white tee-shirt was a tad tight, clinging slightly to him. The biggest difference was his hair. It was a blonde mess. It flopped over one of his eyes. It looked like actual human hair, and not the crisp calculated look it had before. Malfoy, it appeared, wasn't his usual neat self. He must hate how he looked. Harry smirked. He liked the thought of Malfoy being embarrassed. Serve the twat right. He no longer looked like the pureblood he always bragged about being. As though he could hear his thoughts, Malfoy turned his eyes on him. The vulnerable expression changed instantly back to the usual arrogant snarl which made him look like an insufferable twat. Harry's desire to punch him in the face returned.

"Whoa! Look at Malfoy! He looks like a muggle!" Harry heard someone say. He agreed.

"I reckon his father would send him for a dementors kiss if he saw him like that," Ron said, grinning from ear to ear. Harry nodded in agreement.

"Go to your place, Mr. Malfoy," Snape said, like a student hadn't just walked in late and out of uniform. Then again, it didn't surprise Harry. Snape would let Slytherins get away with anything. Especially Malfoy: his golden boy. Still, Harry frowned. If it had been him, Snape would have made sure to humiliate him in front of everyone and then dole out some extravagant form of punishment.

"Of course he'd bloody let Malfoy get away with it." Ron mumbled, turning back to their potion which now looked like swamp sludge. "You know, I reckon they're having an affair."

Harry laughed at this.

"I bet Malfoy has seen under those black robes hundreds of-"

"Urgh don't be fowl." Harry said, his nose wrinkling. He hated Malfoy and Snape so much…the idea of them together….he might vomit into the failed potion before him. He glanced back at Malfoy, who was talking to the Pansy girl. She was eyeing him like she hadn't had a drink in days and he was tall glass of butterbeer. Harry supposed he looked better with his hair down and not slicked back, but any way you looked at Malfoy, he was a pointy faced self-involved twat. It was odd how being out of his robes could make someone think for one second that he might actually be a normal, maybe even decent person. But harry knew what Malfoy was. And he fucking hated him. For some reason, seeing him like this, he hated him even more. He couldn't quite tell why though. But there was no need to question it. He'd always hated him.

Potions class wasn't as awful as Draco expected it to be. He usually liked potions class, what with his godfather being his teacher the class was cake. And he was good at potions. Well, he was good at everything. Once again, it sort of went with being a Malfoy. The laughing had stopped off rather early on, but throughout class he heard snide remarks that were meant to be heard. Remarks, he thought, which weren't the respect he deserved as both a pureblood and a Malfoy. A few of those remarks had been courtesy of Potter's bum chum Weasley. He must look pretty damn ridiculous if Weasley was making fun of him. Maybe if insults cost money then the filthy ginger would keep his mouth shut.

Still. It hadn't been as bad as he thought. Yes, he looked like a muggle, but the instant class was over he'd go into his room and get his robes and he'd fix his hair and he'd be back to his perfect self. And so it was, the very second class ended Malfoy made his way to his dorm. He didn't rush. No, he proudly walked with his chin up as though he didn't care that he looked like a complete idiot. Crabbe and Goyle would have followed him, but they were busy harassing Longbottom, which suited Malfoy just fine. Apparently, they were trying to see if they could pour some of the potion they managed to steal from their cauldron down his robes. Normally, he'd want to be a part of this, but he had his own robes to deal with. As he made his way to the Slytherin dorms, he caught sight of an unruly black mop that was meant to be hair. Harry fucking Potter. Was he following him now? Maybe so he could edge in a few insults about his wardrobe? Malfoy stopped in his tracks. Looks like Potter was without his carrot top and bookworm friends. He crossed his arms and let his face contort into a self-righteous snarl.

"Well, if it isn't The Boy Who Lived. To what do I owe the profound pleasure of having you as my stalker, Potter?

As it was, Harry wasn't following Malfoy. He hadn't even seen him, though he wasn't hard to miss. Harry had split off from Ron and Hermione to go outside. Maybe to Hagrid's hut. Maybe to go by the lake. He didn't have class next and he had the odd urge to be alone. The last person he wanted to see was bloody Malfoy. Harry was already in a bad mood. He'd been having nightmares every night, which meant he had barely any sleep, and the sleep he did have wasn't very restful. And now Malfoy? Great. Bloody great.

"Don't flatter yourself, Malfoy." Harry said, not particularly wanting to get into a fight. He just wanted to go somewhere and relax. He wasn't in the mood for this. Although…his temper was a bit on the black side; a good fight might do him well. No. He shouldn't stoop to Malfoy's level. He turned, preparing to be on his way.

"Aw, poor little Potter is offended. Maybe he should cry to mummy? Oh, that's right, you're an orphan. You see, having a mum and dad of my own, I forget that no one loves you."

Harry froze. His vision went red for half a second. He may have been seeing spots. He slowly turned and faced Malfoy, who was now suddenly pale, as though realizing he went too far. But he kept his face a cold, holier than though mask. He took three steps so that he was up in Malfoy's face. The students walking by stopped to watch what was happening.

"You want a fight, Malfoy? You have one. Room of requirement. Now. Wait a minute before you follow me so the professors don't catch on. Meet me in the room, unless you're as much of a coward as I think you are." Harry growled. Then he turned in a swish of robes and stormed off. He didn't take the time to wonder if he'd made a mistake in wanting to fight Malfoy, but he'd asked for it, and now Harry was in the mood for a good fight. In fact, he wanted to punch Malfoy's pointy nose until it was flat like Goyle's. He bet Malfoy wouldn't meet him, though. He was too much of a coward. But he hoped he would.

Malfoy stood there for a few seconds, his expression not changing. Despite what Harry thought, Malfoy would show up because he was in as dark a mood as Harry was. He was in a mood for a good fight. Plus, he partially blamed Potter for his misfortune. Well, he was in no way involved but Potter was a complete twat so he told himself it was his fault. Potter ruined everything just by existing. He shook his head and put his nose in the air. Now he had a new destination. He made his way to the room of requirement, worried for a moment that he wouldn't find it. But, sure enough, he saw a door appear where there had been just a wall before. He gritted his teeth, and turned the door-knob, entering the room. He locked the door behind him and looked curiously at his surroundings. He didn't see Potter, and the room was filled with desks and chairs. But why would Potter think they needed-?

Potter sprang at him, shoving him against a desk and sending it toppling forward. Fuck. That's why there were chairs and tables. So the stupid fuck Potter could make the fight more dramatic. Malfoy grunted as his side made contact with the hard wood of the desk but he quickly righted himself, making a show of dusting off his shirt. He sneered at Potter, who was currently breathing hard and glaring at him, his hands balled up into fists.

"Is that the best you can do, Potter? Shove me against a desk? Maybe if you'd had a father he would have taught you how to fight. Oh wait, no, he was a loser just like-"

He didn't finish, because Potter punched him in the jaw, sending him staggering backwards. That fucking hurt.

"Come on, Malfoy! Your father can't buy you out of this! Are you just going to stand there, you fucking ferret faced git?" Harry yelled.

Malfoy tasted blood and he snarled, running at Harry and tackling him, forcing him against the wall and punching him in the stomach. Harry's breath left him in an "oof". He seemed to recover pretty quickly, and his eyes flashed up to his. The anger he saw there made him take a step backwards. He let out some sort of Potter battle cry and he launched himself at him and they both crashed into a desk, sending it to the floor and breaking it. Harry straddled Malfoy and punched him in the face. Malfoy managed to turn so the punch landed on his cheek rather than his nose, which he would hate to have broken. Malfoy shoved Harry in the chest, knocking him off his lap and onto the floor. When Potter was on his back Malfoy scrambled to his feet and kicked him hard in the ribs. Harry grunted in pain, trying to roll away from the next kick but Malfoy got him again, kicking him even harder. Harry managed to catch his foot though and yanked him to the ground. Malfoy's head hit with an audible thunk and it fucking HURT. Harry clambered over to him and tried to pin him down again. Malfoy struggled, trying to wiggle out from under him. All he really managed to do was roll over, clawing at the floor to aid his attempts. Harry grabbed his shirt, trying to hold him in place. When Malfoy gave an extra hard jerk, he heard a loud rip and froze.

Then he growled.

"YOU TORE MY FUCKING SHIRT, POTTER!" He yelled, pushing up off his hands and knocking Harry backwards with surprising force. Then he faced him and kicked him in the chest, making him crash into a chair. Malfoy stood up, his tattered shirt falling off him and his head throbbing painfully. He felt dizzy and he swayed. The moment of hesitation was enough time for Harry to stand up again and charge at Malfoy, knocking him into the wall. His forearm was under Malfoy's chin and he had him trapped. They were both panting and glaring at each other. Malfoy was shirtless, and Potter's robes were pressing against his bare skin. He'd have to scrub hard later to get the smell of filthy Gryffindor off him.

"You're a fucking slimy snake, Malfoy." Harry growled at him.

"Ooh, clever insult, Potter, comparing a Slytherin to a snake." Malfoy said snidely, trying to get out of Potter's hold. Potter pressed him further into the wall, snarling.

"Shut the fuck up, Malfoy. For once in your life, shut the fuck up." He said. They were still panting, neither knowing what to do next. Malfoy reckoned if he gave a really good shove he could escape. Potter's breath was hitting his face and he could feel every inhale and exhale on his own body. His heart was beating really quickly, and adrenaline was racing through his veins. And potter's face was really close. His nose was almost touching his. He suddenly got an idea of how he could escape. Later on, he would remember this decision and think he was crazy. He wouldn't understand how on earth he got the idea, or how he'd been bonkers enough to actually go through with it. In any case, he would tell himself he was just desperate to escape Potter's hold to win the fight.

Whatever his reasoning was, it happened. Malfoy leaned forward and quickly and roughly forced his mouth on Potter's. He'd intended for it to maybe hurt a little. What he didn't expect was for Potter's lips to be so soft. He also didn't expect the sudden rush of lust the contact created. But it was too crazy to feel lust, because he wasn't gay and…well…it was fucking Potter. Sworn enemy, remember?

Potter seemed to think this act was as crazy as Malfoy did, because he instantly let go and stumbled back, hand clapped over his mouth. They stared at each other for a moment, Potter shocked and Malfoy…horrified at what he'd done, despite the obvious success of his intentions. Potter had let go. What made Malfoy so horrified was that, for a moment, he'd felt disappointed. He also noticed that his jeans had gotten considerably tighter in the crotchular region. He told himself it was the excitement of the fight. The adrenaline. Not potter. Definitely not Potter.

"What…what the fuck are you playing at, Malfoy?" Harry bellowed. Malfoy composed his features to an arrogant smirk.

"Got you to let go of me, didn't it, Potter?" He said, looking down at his nails and fiddling with them disinterestedly. "That was easier than I-"

Malfoy felt the air rush out of his lungs as he was forced against the wall again, pinned like before. He gasped, trying to move away. Potter was pressed up right against him. He'd undoubtedly feel the problem he was having. The problem which was currently straining against his jeans.

Potter's eyebrows lifted and his eyes widened and he glanced between their bodies so tightly pressed against each other. Then, he looked back up at Malfoy, his glare intensified. Malfoy opened his mouth to give some excuse or snide remark when, suddenly and unexpectedly, Potter's lips were pressed against his. Harry still had his forearm under his chin, but his other arm banged against the wall beside Malfoy's face, punching a hole in it. Malfoy made a surprised sound in his throat, his lips parting. Harry took the opportunity to shove his tongue roughly into his mouth. Malfoy realized something. Whatever was happening right now, Potter was winning. He didn't know how exactly the fight had turned into this, he still hated Potter but…he was turned on as fuck. And he wouldn't let him win. No Malfoy would lose. Especially not to a Potter.

He thrust his tongue against Potter's, sliding it sensually into his mouth and pressing his straining erection against him. He didn't expect what he felt next; which was Potter's erection grinding against his. Potter was hard. Malfoy moaned at the delicious friction and then cursed in his head. Fuck. Potter just gained another point. He had heard Potter take in a sharp breath at the move, but made no other indication that he felt the sudden pleasure Malfoy had. So Malfoy did it again, bucking into Potter's erection harder, rolling his hips and sucking on his lower hip. That got a reaction. Potter grunted, and his forearm dropped down, both his hands roughly seizing Malfoy's bare hips.

What the fuck was HAPPENING?

The thought disappeared when Potter's hands grabbed his hips harder and forced them flush against his, causing their straining erections to rub deliciously against each other. Malfoy moaned again, and considered his next move.

Easy.

Time for some payback.

He pushed Potter's robes off his shoulders and Harry, sensing what to do next, let his hands drop so the robes could fall in a black puddle to the floor. Then, before Harry could do anything, Malfoy seized his shirt and tore it clean in half. Ha. Now your shirt is ripped too, Potter. Harry looked at his ruined shirt, surprised. Then he looked back at Malfoy, his eyes so dark they were forest green. He put his palm on Malfoy's chest and forced him back against the wall. Draco's breath left him in an "oof". Harry stepped forward and their bare chests touched. Harry forced a leg between Draco's so that his thigh was pressing against his erection.

"You ruined my shirt." Harry said, glaring at Malfoy, but breathing hard and eyes not only dark with anger…there was definitely lust.

"You ruined mine." Malfoy said, trying to sound snide but his voice trembled.

"Shut the fuck up, Malfoy." Harry said.

"Fuck off, you specky-". Before he could go on, Potter growled and crashed his lips against his again, grabbing a handful of Malfoy's blonde locks and tugging almost painfully.

Malfoy groaned loudly. He would have been embarrassed at how vocal he was being, but he was distracted by how turned on he was, and the fact that one of Potter's hands was now on his ass.

It seemed like Potter was trying to take the lead. Well. Fuck that. As previously mentioned, Malfoy's always win. Harry was going to grab his ass? Fine. Time to take the next step.

Draco suddenly felt nervous. One of his hands was on Harry's jaw, and the other was in his hair. He chose to move the hand that was on Harry's face, because it was on the right side, it just needed to travel….downwards. Draco took a shaky breath and moved his hand down to Harry's neck….then to his chest. He had to move back slightly so there was space between their bodies so his hand could continue to its destination. Malfoy just kept moving so he wouldn't have time to talk himself out of it. He felt Potter's bare skin against his hand as it moved from his chest to his stomach. Potter seemed to notice what was on his mind because his lips froze on Draco's ,he was breathing harder, and he'd moved back ever so slightly so Draco could have enough room to…do what he was going to next. Malfoy took a deep breath and, without pausing, let his palm slide down to Harry's jean encased dick. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, Draco Malfoy was now cupping Harry Potter's hard dick. Harry moaned against his mouth, and Draco felt an enormous excitement that such a simple touch could make him make sounds like that. Harry let his hips move forward, pressing his erection harder into Draco's hand.

Draco breathed shakily, a hot, strange feeling in the pit of his stomach. His heart was beating so fast and he was so fucking turned on. He didn't know why! It was too much…it was all too much. He had his hand on Harry Potters' very hard dick, his own erection threatening to go off in his pants like he was 13 all over again. And why? At the mere thought of tossing potter off, which it looked like he was very close to doing.

His thoughts were cut short when Potter suddenly buried his face in Malfoy's neck, placing a desperate, sloppy, open mouthed kiss there. Malfoy tipped his head back, groaning and letting the hand cupping Harry's prick press harder, his fingers better encircling his length and experimentally rubbing his hand up and down over it. The sound Potter made against his neck was…intense. It was a low groan that vibrated on his skin and Draco felt his mounting excitement take over completely. All thoughts and doubts were gone. Competition be damned.

He fumbled with the button of Harry's jeans, his hands shaking. Harry was sucking and biting on his neck, grabbing his arse and moving his hips absentmindedly. Now Draco's trembling fingers were tugging on a zipper and slipping under elastic and…touching hard, smooth skin. The angle was awkward with their bodies so close together, but Draco curled his fingers around Harry's dick, pulling it out of his pants. Harry groaned, moving his head back to look down at what Malfoy was doing. Harry had no idea what was happening. The fact was, it was impossible. All he knew was it felt so good and Malfoy's hand was warm and it was starting to move and blimey had he done this to another bloke before? Because his hand was moving up and down, the pressure so fucking delicious. He didn't know how it had happened...how it had all started.

Actually, no.

It had been Malfoy.

When he'd kissed him that first time, rough and quick.

Harry was confused. But most of all, he was shocked by how good it had felt. How different it had been from any kissing he had done before. And he had definitely not expected the sudden bolt of lust sent straight down to his groin. Kissing a bloke was so different. They could press right up against each other, no breasts in the way. His hand on a strong jaw, in short hair…their hip bones touching, their hard dicks pressing together. It also had that sense of being dirtier…forbidden or something. Yeah. It felt completely different. It scared the shit out of Harry that he liked the difference. Wasn't he straight? And didn't he hate Malfoy? Then why was he feeling so turned on? The most turned on he had ever been in his life. His body was on fire; buzzing with this weird nervous electricity. The thoughts he was having were definitely….bent. He wanted to do things to Malfoy….he wanted Malfoy to do things to him…why in god's name Malfoy? But holy fuck Draco's hand was still moving on him, and he was biting down on his lip, watching as he tossed Harry off. There was a burning lust in his eyes as he watched himself. Malfoy didn't know what he was doing, he was acting on impulse. His eyes flicked up to Harry's, and what he saw was so….incredibly…raw and….hot. His mouth was open, and his eyes were dark with a look that screamed sex. He was watching what Draco was doing. It filled Draco with a confidence and the sudden desire to….to….before he knew it, he felt himself sliding onto his knees.

Neither of them would have believed it if someone had told them that today Draco would be on his knees with Harry's cock in his hands, about to suck him off. They wouldn't have believed it if someone told them that, despite how much they hated each other, they would want each other so much they were both about to explode. They probably would have hexed the person into oblivion. But still, there they were; both not thinking, or surely it would never have happened. If they spared any thought on it, if they hadn't let instinct and want kick in, then they wouldn't be where they were now.

"Wha…what're-?" Harry stuttered, not understanding what he was seeing.

"Shut up for once in your life, Potter." Draco said, but the harshness of the words cut off by the breathlessness of his voice. He leaned forward, not daring to ponder what he was about to do, and let his lips, usually fixed into a snide smirk, part over Harry's cock.

"Fuck…" Potter groaned, his hand immediately taking purchase in Draco's soft hair. His fingers tangled in the blonde mess. It felt so good….his mouth was so wet and hot. First only the tip slid into his pink mouth, and then Draco slid lower, taking more of him and letting his tongue taste his length. He hollowed his cheeks; the pressure Harry felt was incredible. He'd never felt…had never imagined.

The sounds he was making were most definitely embarrassing, but he didn't have the time to be embarrassed. Draco was taking him in deeper and deeper each time, the suction…the wetness of his mouth…the way he looked…it was so dirty…so visceral.

Harry moaned, cursing. His hands tightened in Draco's hair, and he found himself mindlessly thrusting his hips forward into that hot mouth.

Malfoy was unbelievably turned on by the sounds he was hearing…the moaning…the curses…the hoarse groans….he chanced a glance upwards. Harry's mouth was open like before, but his eyes were squinted shut, his cheeks flushed. Malfoy felt tingles shoot up his spine, and his dick twitched in his pants. Being on his knees, sucking Potter off…making him lose control like that…he felt more warmth pool in his groin and he felt the telltale clenching in his stomach. Fuck. He was so close to cumming just from giving Potter a blow job. He could tell Potter was close to…his hips were jerking forward and his hand was tugging on Malfoys' hair.

"Fuck…Malfoy...ugh…I'm going to….Fu-uuuck!" Harry cried out hoarsely, his hips jutting forward and cumming in Draco's mouth as Draco swallowed around him. The sound and the fucking feel of Harry cumming because of what he was doing made Draco pull back, groaning unbelievably loudly and cumming spectacularly in his pants.

They both stayed where they were for a moment, breathing hard. Draco looked down at himself. He was shirtless, panting, and he had a wet patch in his jeans. He felt his stomach go cold and he felt sick. He looked up at Potter, who was breathing even harder, his cheeks flushed and sweat making his hair cling to his forehead. His dick was still out, and he too was shirtless.

Their eyes met.

Reality set in.

Shit, Draco though. Shit fucking SHIT. He'd just…sucked off…fucking HELL.

He scrambled up, backing away from Potter, his back hitting the wall. Harry watched him, his cheeks darkening as he realized how he must look, and he hurriedly tucked himself back into his jeans. He'd just…cum in Malfoy's mouth and by the look of Malfoy and the sound he had made, Malfoy had cum too.

What the hell had…what? They avoided eye contact, both unable to believe what had happened. Harry raised a hand to his hair, ruffling it. One of them had to say something. The Gryffindor bravery set in, and Harry took in a deep breath.

"Listen, Malfoy…er…Draco…I don't know what-"

"Shut the fuck up, Potter." Malfoy spat, looking at him, his expression livid. But Harry thought he could also see fear in his grey eyes. "This-", he let his hand go back and forth in the space between them "-never happened, do you understand me? It didn't fucking HAPPEN."

Harry was about to say he wished it hadn't, when suddenly, he realized that wasn't true. It had been…confusing as shit. It had been out of the blue, and it didn't make any sense but…he didn't wish it hadn't happened. It had been…bloody amazing. He didn't want to think about it, because if he did, he'd realize that he might very well be bent. He raised his hand, cupping his neck and shoving his hand in one of his jean pockets. No. He didn't want to think about it. It would drive him mad. He didn't want to think about the fact that now; the memory of Draco sucking him off would be what he thought of when he was having a wank. It was bonkers. He…he hated him. He was his bloody enemy, for Christ sake. He was...Malfoy. He took another deep breath.

"It…it did happen though. You…uh…were there. On your…uh…with my…and…" Harry stuttered, not able to form a coherent sentence. He didn't know what he was trying to say. They should forget it had happened, and he didn't want to think about any of it, right? So why was he trying to say any of this to Malfoy? What in the name of Merlin was happening to him? Malfoy brought out his wand suddenly, pointing it at Harry.

"NOTHING FUCKING HAPPENED!" He yelled.

"Are you going to hex me, Malfoy?" Harry asked, feeling strangely amused. He took a step towards Draco. Draco took a step back, a scared look crossing his features.

"Yes! I'm going to fucking curse you!" He said. Harry took another step forward, backing Malfoy into the wall again, like they had been before. "What the fuck are you-?" Harry didn't know what he was playing at, all he knew was he was confused and, once again, he acted without thinking. He leaned forward and pressed his lips against Malfoys, the contact bringing back that intense lust he had felt before. Malfoy made a muffled sound against him as Harry grabbed his waist, pulling him against him as he slanted his mouth over Draco's. Draco relaxed for a moment, his lips softening and his tongue darting out to slide along Harry's lip, his arms going around Harry's waist. And then the moment ended. Malfoy seemed to realize what was happening and he tensed, pushing Harry away and rearing his fist back, sending a punch to Harry's jaw. Harry stumbled back, his hand rubbing his bruising jaw and his mouth open in shock.

"GET THE FUCK OFF ME, POTTER! AND TALK ABOUT THIS TO ANYONE AND I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU!" He screamed, turning, whipping the door open, and running out of the room.

Harry stared at the open door, still rubbing his jaw. He wasn't able to take all that had happened in, and he doubted he would be able to understand any of it any time soon. But of one thing he was sure. He was bent, and he wanted Draco Malfoy.

*A.N: AHHH! I'm back bitches! And it feels fucking GOOD. So...man on man. It's so fun to write...and it's sexy as hell! I giggled loads writing this. So...the question that comes to mind is "what next?" What is Harry going to do about these confusing feelings? And what on earth is going through Malfoy's mind? Was this just a one time thing? Read and review, my darling slashies. MWA. Frankietown loves all of you because your bodies are hot.