"So Potter, what exactly is it that you fancy?" Draco drawled lazily one summer night, as he and the Boy Who Lived lounged under the canopy of a large oak tree; through the dark jade leaves, frosty stars blinked in an inky black sky, peeking down at the two boys. Draco and Harry were back to back, enticed in each other's scent; Draco's icy and cold as winter, Harry's as warm and comforting as fire.

Draco was currently drawing lazy circled near the earth at Harry's thighs, on occasion "accidentally" grazing a feeling on the boy's warm skin.

Harry tore his gaze from the sky, where Draco could see the crescent moon, resembling the faintest claw-like scratch, reflected off the black haired boy's glasses. A strange flutter erupted in his chest, one that made him squirm as fantasies engulfed his mind, and he repeated, a little breathlessly, "Well? Potter?"

"Huh? Oh!" Harry grinned apologetically, rubbing the back of his neck. "Um, what was the question?"

Draco tried to appear annoyed, but he could scarcely mask his amusement.

God, Potter.... Just look so innocent and desirable.... Draco thought, a blush flaring on his pale cheeks as he contemplated exactly what he wished to do with such a naive and handsome boy. Surprise engulfed him when he realized how strongly he felt this, and how it seemed to drown out something he had pushed to the back of his mind.... something he couldn't exactly identify, but knew was there, nonetheless.

"I said what exactly is it that you fancy?"

A small frown creased Harry's eyebrows.

"Whatcha mean, Draco?"

Harry turned around to face Draco face to face, insanely close to the platinum haired boy's mouth, unaware of the excitement surging through Draco.

That's it.... keep him close..... Draco's mind told him fervently.

"Well, what kind of stuff do you like?" he rephrased the question; Harry was still close to Malfoy, and the pale boy was enjoying it immensely; that warm.... snuggle-worthy scent.... like a smoking fire next to you on a chilly winter night.....

"Uh.... I dunno...." Harry shrugged, grinning again. Draco's heart skipped a beat and tried to quit at the same time, and then began throbbing painfully when the Boy Who Lived continued to speak, "Ummm.... ya know, Quidditch... Uh.... I'm not really picky."

"How about appearance? What are your favorite, say, colors?" Draco breathed, almost nose to nose with Harry.

Harry continued to grin, and replied, "Hmmm.... I could say gold and red.... maroon is okay, and I particularly like black."

"Black?" Draco repeated in a whisper. "Doesn't that seem a bit... dark for a Gryffindor?" Draco whispered, in somewhat of a sneer. Just because Harry was Gryffindor, and had the heart to save his life and be so.... devilishly handsome and warm, didn't mean he had to approve of all the heroism and bravery other Gryffindors appealed with.

Harry looked slightly stung, but responded evenly and seriously, "Well, black is a deep color. It signifies a lot."

Draco nodded slightly. "I see what you mean....." Again, he suppressed the flood of.... that strange, unhappy feeling in the back of his mind, trying to squash it with his intensity of Harry.

And suddenly, he leaned upwards.

"Potter, hold it just a second....."

And Draco stood to his feet, his black Muggle jeans brushing the grass as he flitted over towards a bush a little ways away from the tree. Harry quickly stood and followed, perplexed as to Draco's behavior.

He found his.... good friend.... plunging his pale hand into a rose bush. There was a good bit of rustling and grimacing from the Slytherin boy, until he extracted his hand from the bush, a plant gripped tightly in his hands.

And he thrust the black rose at Harry, his face pink with embarrassment.

"Oh, Draco...." Harry murmured, gently taking the rose and stroking the smooth, soft, black as the night sky petals. "It's- hey, you're bleeding!"

And sure enough, Draco's silver gaze glanced at his arm and took in the gash that adorned his pale arm from wrist to elbow. Blood welled out of it, streaming down his arm and fingers, landing with soft drips onto the grass. He must have really dug his arm into a thorn when pulling his arm out.

"Oh, it's nothing, Harry," Draco dismissed Harry's concerned look with a wave of his uninjured hand. "No biggee. I've suffered worse, believe me." And as Draco said this, his silver eyes darkened to metal pools. Harry immediately thought of Draco's abusive father, and cold, distant mother. How they would beat him.... torture him with the Cruciatus Curse when he messed up.... And how, before Voldemort died, he had made sure Draco learn a few lessons about "loyalty...."

"But Draco, I don't like to see you hurt...." Harry whispered, taking the Slytherin boy's non-bleeding hand and dragging him to the ground, so he sat on his knees in front of Harry.

Harry, setting the rose daintily on the ground between them, held up Draco's arm and scrutinized it; it certainly wasn't deep enough to fatally wound him, and it was already beginning to stop pouring blood. But he could still get infected.... and he was still hurt.

Quietly, Harry lifted Draco's arm to his mouth, and ran his tongue over the entire slit, from the white-blonde boy's wrist to elbow. Draco squirmed as Harry's warm, tantalizing breath seemed to singe his arm, and even more so when the moist appendage swirled erratically around the soft spot where Draco's elbow met on the inside of his arm.

Harry was surprised how.... sweet Draco tasted. For a slimy Slytherin git, and once supporter of Voldemort and ruiner of the Boy Who Lived's life, he was actually delicious, and when Harry tasted no more blood, his mouth watered for more.

He drew his head up and looked up into Draco's eyes, his black bangs shading his bright emerald eyes. Draco's heart leaped and felt at the same time, perturbed by the demented aura Harry was emitting, and gave a gasp when Harry had tackled him over, straddling his stomach, grinning toothily.

"Potter...." Draco whimpered, a stiffening sensation coming over a particular area inside his pants. "Wh-what're you doing?"

"Draco, do you love me?" Harry mewed in his ear, tickling the sensitive hairs along them and his neck.

"Well, yes...." Draco replied, frowning.

"Then I suppose I can make up for all those times... that you didn't have anyone.... that I didn't have anyone...."

Draco nodded, eyes glazed with tears. "No one knows how it feels to have to walk in someone else's shoes... fullfill their life.... And not be yourself...."

"It leaves you feeling so numb...." Harry agreed. "Draco, is that how you hid your numbness? With anger, resentment, and cruelty?"

Letting the tears overflow Draco's eyes like he never could have over the past few years, he nodded silently. A sob racked his body, and he was leaning up on Harry's shoulder, crying tears he would never let anyone see. He would have rather someone else besides Harry see him bleeding to death than crying.

Harry embraced Draco tightly. "Let's regain some feeling.... Voldemort is dead, your father is in Azkaban, and your mother won't mess with you while I'm here.... I'll help you replace that numbness with something more than pain and hate."

Draco drew back, sniffled a few times, and allowed Harry wipe the tears clinging to his white eyelashes. He glanced up at Harry, almost expecting him to suddenly lose his kind manor and throw at him insults, angry, hateful words about how weak he was, and almost anticipated a blow to the face. But Harry only gazed down at him from those glistening emerald eyes, and, before he knew it, he felt something press gently against his mouth.

Harry diminished all space between their lips, his tongue dancing around Draco's mouth, playing with Draco's tongue, massaging it and stroking it.... And he pulled back slightly to nibble Draco's lip, earning a low moan from the Slytherin boy. Harry's hands felt their way to Draco's back, and soon, Harry had them embraced around his waist, rubbing and savoring the texture of Malfoy's rear; the platinum haired boy almost yelped when Harry gave him a not very gentle squeeze, making the area of his pants harden more than before.

When Harry finally pulled back, Draco stared up at him, eyes wide with shock and pleasure. He couldn't contain his erection, and soon, Harry seemed to notice Draco was a tad more excited than normal.

"Ya know, Draco...." Harry grinned again, and Draco thought he might faint from the want.... the need.... "I can give you everything no else could.... And not just what we both crave from each other right now.... I'm talking.... love, affection..... Something I know your parents didn't show, and Voldemort might die of if he dared....."

Draco nodded, eyes never leaving Harry's face.

"Is that what you want from me? To ease your numbness, and replace it with love?"

Draco nodded again, wrapping his own arms around Harr'y waist; they leaned in again; no longer numb silver eyes staring into loving emerald ones, and Harry placed his head on Draco's chest, searching for his heartbeat.

When the tiny throb met his head, a jolt surged in his own chest; he felt Draco's pulse speed up considerably; the Slytherin boy's chest and neck grew much warmer; and Harry grinned again at the thought of giving Draco feeling.

***********

AK: Well.... ya know.... let me know what you thought..... Reviews let me know what I can improve on.... soooo..... ya, R&R....

Btw, I got the idea for this oneshot from the song Numb by Linkin Park, possibly the best song they've ever done.

Draco: I'll say..... if it gets Harry's attention on me.....

AK: *smile and rolls eyes* Draco wants to know how you all felt about him and Harry's little scene together......