A/N: Well, a simple short 'story'. My first time putting Harry and Draco in a situation together.

Critics? Fire away!

(also, this originally had no such thing as "caps", so I'm sorry for some grammar mistakes)


"Dont' turn your back! Don't you dare!"

He stopped dead on his tracks – the faint sound of his unsteady footsteps a lost memory in the desert hallway. Carefully, he took a side glance at the voice masking it's way to his ears.

"Why do you keep doing this?"

The voice, raged with shallow hasty breaths, wrecked the black haired boy's body with shivering tremors.

The other boy was angry – fucking pissed off.

A side glance became a full body turn and he was now facing the extremely enraged person, up a few feet down the hallway. Harry was trying to mask his visually shaking form, not wanting to give Draco Malfoy the pleasure of such an up-tight reaction. How he managed to incite such reaction was beyond him, but Malfoy had always been able to do that – always.

"Why, Potter? Why be such a bloody sissy?"

Harry snorted at that. How ironic! Malfoy calling him a sissy. Malfoy, off all damned people; that slimy, Slytherin conceived git!

"Are you sure you want to be calling me a sissy Malfoy? As I recall, you're the biggest coward I've ever met."

That struck a nerve. It was clearly evident in Draco's features. The furious stare was replaced by a predictable look of shock. Oh! Now he'd done it!

Draco was beyond furious. He was bloody livid! How dared he!? How dare, the fucking boy-who-deserved-to-be-castrated, insult him, turn his back on him and then insult him some more? Who the hell did he think he was?

"Merlin, Potter. I never thought you were such a hypocrite."

Harry cringed at that. Malfoy was partially right when he said that – partially. Harry wasn't one to conveniently change his opinions or lie to people about them, for that matter. Malfoy simply got him worked up, nothing more. And when does that even change the fact that, Malfoy was and would always be a whimpering boy who would hide away, behind the monster he had for a father?

"How can you even call me that, after all that's happen?"

Draco barged on. Oh yes!, he loved seeing precious Potter cringe. He loved upsetting him as much as he loved the thrill of having Potter all worked up because of him.

"Quit the crap, Malfoy. You make it sound like some cheap, british soup opera."

Harry's patience was almost up to it's limit. Malfoy could really be a pain sometimes. Even more than he usually was and that was almost impossible, because Malfoy was always an arse.

"A cheap what?"

Sigh.

Yes, Harry actually sighed. You could always count on Malfoy to ruin every heated moment or discussion, with his lack of cultural intelligence. Always.

"Don't talk bullshit with me, you scar-headed freak!"

Malfoy's cheesy comeback was almost comical. His once arrogant, angry posture was getting defensive and you could almost see a look of hurt passing across his sharp, pale features.

Wait. How could Harry see his features so up close?

Damnit, when did Malfoy get so close?

"Merlin, Malfoy. I'm really not in the mood for this…"

Harry was growing tired of all their infantile games and lame discussions. It was getting old, really. They would do this every single time – fight, shag, fight, shag some more, fight again. He still didn't get how they had gotten here in the first place!

Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy. Arch-enemies. Hated each other with burning passion. Couldn't wait to get at each others throats. Harry, world savior. Draco, death eater. The light versus the dark. and yet, here they were again, after another round of "dungeon snoggnig", in which a simple commentary about the dark mark's ugly shape turned into another round of "hallway fighting" – or as Harry liked to call it: sulking babies - round 2.

Draco's pissed off form had approach Harry without him noticing. Yes, Malfoy often did that too. Stupid, sneaky death eater.

"You're never in the mood when you know I actually have a valid point."

It was Draco's turn to sigh. Merlin, sometimes he wished he could just hex the boy-who-had-acne-problems into oblivion and get back to his once normal life – hiding in the corners and faking bravery. But Potter had to come here, didn't he? He had to come here, reject his offer for friendship, associate himself with traitors and mudbloods, wipe every teacher's ass, be everyone's ray of sunshine and put Draco into a complete self-destruction sequence every time they confronted each other.

Bloody brilliant, Potter.

"Look, can we just forget it? It's late. I'm tired. I just want to get to my room and not think about you ever again, alright?"

Harry made yet another move to turn and walk away, but this time was stopped, not by Malfoy's infuriated voice, but by his strong grasp on his shoulders. Harry was quickly turned around and forced to look at Malfoy's icy stare.

"I'll ask you again, Potter. Why be such a sissy?"

Draco's voice was merely a whisper, in the still deserted hallway. Bitter and hard. The kind of voice you should be afraid of, when listened to so up close, but Harry was not easily intimated. Still, he couldn't suppress the small shiver that ran through his spine, when Draco's cold hands made contact with his clothed shoulders. His stare though, was making Harry uncomfortable. They were close – too close.

He felt like smirking, upon seeing Harry's tight posture. He always got like this when they made some kind of contact. Draco felt empowered by this – Harry's reactions were always so pleasing.

"I'm not a sissy, Malfoy."

Can't you just drop it, already?

"So… why run?"

One of his hands came in contact with Harry's warm cheek. It was a gentle caress – one thing that Malfoy only showed so often…

Harry fought the urge to close his eyes and lean in, into the blonde's touch. It was hard just having him this close to his body. His thoughts became foggy and he couldn't feel anything, besides the coolness of his body against his own.

Yes, it was hard.

"It's hard, Malfoy."

An honest answer. You couldn't really expect anything other than that from Harry Potter.

Draco gave a little apologetic smile, which still looked weird on him – it was so rare to see Draco smile.

"I know the feeling, Harry."

The first-name basis was only used on rare occasions, when they were actually being intimate with each other. Both Harry and Draco agreed to that – it made things simpler. Less confusing. So not what was going on right now.

Harry returned Draco's small smile and his own hand came up to rest on Draco's shoulder, giving it a small squeeze of understanding.

It was hard. It was hard for them both.

It was so hard… to have fallen in the arms of the most unlikely person – the person you are supposed to hate. The person who you were taught to overcome and defeat. The person that for so many years, practically wished you dead. The person that made life just a little bit more difficult.

Yes. And now, you're in love with that person.

And it's hard, not knowing how the hell that came to be or what you can do to counter it – can you even counter love?

It's hard not being able to just come clean and scream at the world what you're feeling. It's hard investing on something that has a warning sign plastered on its fate, reading "dead end". It's hard having to pretend everything's normal and clean, when that led to insulting each other's guts between classes and quidditch games. It's hard having to sneak at night, with the risk of getting caught, just to spend two hours, maximum, together.

It's so hard. It felt like giving up all-together.

"But you can't run away now. Not now."

Draco's voice was soft as his thumb caressed the other boy's supple lips. Harry let his eyes close this time, while returning the gesture by entwining his fingers in Draco's soft, golden strands. He let his forehead rest against the blonde's and let out a breath he was holding for so long.

A breath of relief? Sorrow? Empathy? Honestly, Harry couldn't quite tell.

"I was wrong, Draco. You're everything but a coward…"

Again the honesty that made Draco's heart swell so much, he thought it could break his ribcage in two. Currently, he was at loss of words, so he answered the best way he could:

The touch of Draco's lips against his own made Harry shiver for the billionth time that night. It astound him how someone, as arrogant and cold as Draco Malfoy could be so gentle sometimes. It was rare for him to show it, even when they were moving against each other on the bed sheets. Usually, he was brutal and liked it kind of rough – no surprise there.

But sometimes, even Draco felt the need for something tender and – dare he say it – lovingly. And when that need came, Harry was more than happy to oblige.

Soon enough he was melting into him. The feeling of Draco's tongue against his own – caressing and demanding. The sound of Draco's low growl when Harry pulled him closer to his now aching body. The way Draco put his arms around him, holding him securely and protecting.

All these feelings and emotions they poured into one and other – all these feelings and emotions they couldn't always express in words. It drove them almost to the point of insanity. The insanity of being here, late at night, kissing hungrily in a desert hallway. The insanity of keeping a low profile, by simply avoiding each other's way, to prevent any insulting, necessary comments. The insanity of lying to everyone – friends, family, teachers – knowing damn well, the "dead end" sign was still clearly visible.

The insanity of fighting over some damn dark mark, like two immature kids.

Yes, they truly were insane.

And it was hard.

The need to breath made them pull apart and they were both gasping for air by the end of it. Harry's face was flushed and his body still held that delicious shiver, while Draco's heart was racing against his body. They kept their hold on each other, too afraid one of them might actually collapse, to let go.

Slowly, a smirk crept its way into Draco's features – typical.

"See, I told you were an hypocrite."

And Harry had to groan.

Of course, you could always count of Malfoy to ruin everything.