Summary: When Harry's apartment building is struck by lightning, he's forced to leave for the evening. Malfoy's random appearance at the scene of the crime, however, is about to turn his night upside down...quite literally.
Disclaimer: All of the characters, places, and names mentioned in this story belong to J.K. Rowling, AOL Time Warner, Bloomsbury, Scholastic, and the other important (not to mention, very rich) people involved in the Harry Potter franchise. No copyright infringement is intended, and certainly no money is being made from this piece of fiction.
I'm just a poor college student with a slight creative streak. All I own that has some sort of value is Sorry, the laptop, and my iPod. So please don't sue me...I'm saving my pennies to go to Italy.
Rating: R...a.k.a. M for language and serious sexual situations! That's right folks - sex! Big, bold, underlined letters - SEX! Please don't report or complain...or flame. I'm warning! Sex, sex, sex! Also note the slash factor! Yes, that means boys kissing other boys! So if that makes you squeamish, then don't bother, for your sake and mine.
A/N: Oh geez. I'm currently fumbling around nervously because I've never written smut before! blushes I wanted it to be a slightly believable scenario, so it takes a while for the action (meaning, this is long!), but you get some comedy until then. This story was actually inspired by my brother. No, this didn't happen to my brother (ew, I'd never want to hear about his...escapades of any sort. Yuck. Sick. Nasty images!), he's quite straight. His apartment building did get struck by lightning though, which is where I got the description for that from. Oh yeah...you should know that Draco is pretty OOC! By "pretty OOC", I mean quite OOC.
Every Conquest is Preceded By a War
Harry let out a loud grunt as he literally dropped the last of his moving boxes onto the ground. He swiped at his forehead with the back of a dirty hand, spreading his hair back, away from the sweat.
There. He was moved in. Finally.
Shortly after officially receiving his Certificate of Auror Practice, Under Magical Law Enforcement (which had been a given, really, considering he was the one to have defeated Lord Voldemort), Harry had firmly decided that he'd wanted to live in the Muggle world. He was still working for the Ministry of Magic, but he wanted to escape the Wizarding world in every other way - he simply couldn't stand the astonished stares.
Honestly, 6 months later and they still couldn't get over it. Sheesh.
Green eyes swept over the dusty and slightly grimy living room of his new flat and he couldn't help but grin to himself. Boxes covered every surface, old, torn and rotting curtains hung from rods above the windows, and the place could definitely do with a new coat of paint, but it was his. This was his flat - he could do anything he wanted to do with it. That thought made Harry's heart flutter.
Thinking he should probably get around to unpacking his bedroom at least, so he could have somewhere to sleep (after all, it was well past midnight), he heard thunder crack somewhere in the distance.
It really was raining down a bitch and a half tonight, wasn't it?
Harry ignored the loud storm and the occasional flash of lightning, opting to go down the hall and to the left - to his bedroom.
He quickly began searching for the box labeled "Sheets and Linens" and found it almost immediately, deftly tearing the thick layer of packing tape practically glueing the box's flaps together.
Note to self: don't let Ron play around with the tape dispenser again, Harry thought, smiling as he remembered how amazed his best mate had been atthe small razor placed conveniently on the end of the Muggle contraption.
Another flash of lightning suddenly illuminated the room and Harry blinked as the light left him slightly blinded.
With another grunt, Harry pulled out a duvet and turned in search of the light switch, dragging the blanket behind in one hand as his other ran along the wall.
Success! And the room was lit up artificially.
Being in Hogwarts for 7 years had left Harry used to candle light, and while that was nice in a medieval sort of way, he found he rather missed electricity. He squinted at the lamp and grinned. That was his lamp. To his bedroom. In his flat.
He could really get used to this.
He walked back to the box and set the duvet down messily next to him, digging back through in search of a clean set of sheets.
Yet another rod of lightning flashed down and the almost immediate crack of thunder startled Harry slightly.
Crikey, that was close! He shuddered a bit, involuntarily, and shuffled to the bed with a blue set of sheets in hand.
Harry started unfolding the sheets, spreading them apart, when a loud crack resounded through his apartment.
What the -? He thought absently, clutching the sheet between his hands tightly as the loud noise seemed to go on forever. It was almost as if someone was breaking wood loudly. Or banging and scraping metal on metal. Or both.
And then the lights went out.
He jumped back as he saw sparks fly from the roof of the building through his window, and he heard another enormously loud crack of thunder...the ground was vibrating from the loud noise.
And then the fire alarm went off.
Harry worriedly peeked out the window, quickly deciding that he should probably get a move on and leave the building.
Drats! My first bloody night in the flat, and the building blows up. Just fantastic! He couldn't help but think of the irony in the situation. He wouldn't be overly surprised if he found out it was Voldemort's way of seeking revenge from beyond the grave - ruining move-in day for him.
As he hastily made his way into the hall, Harry saw the other grumbling residents of the apartment building. A bubble of relief swelled in his chest, randomly, at the fact that he didn't have children; he wasn't sure he'd be able to handle the scared little girls that apparently lived 3 doors down from him.
The fact that it was still pouring rain didn't do much for Harry's downward-spiral-of-a-mood, and he wondered when his life would be peaceful for once.
Just then, somebody harshly bumped into his back, probably pushed by the hordes of people swarming around the curb just outside of the building.
"What the - bloody muggles can't control their bloody kids!" Harry started at the familiar term in the grumbled sentence and immediately turned to face -
"Malfoy?" He exclaimed in sheer shock. "What in Merlin's name are you doing here?"
Cool grey eyes met his own, betraying only a spark of surprise before quickly shuttering into a look of disdain.
"Well, Potter," the blond Slytherin began, as though speaking to a two year-old. "It appears as though the building was struck by lighting, so we had to exit to safety."
Harry blinked. "That was lightning? I thought somebody bombed the place!"
"Yes, you would," Malfoy replied, to which Harry only blinked again, anger fluttering behind his bright green eyes.
"So, what are we doing standing out here for, then?" Harry examined the building critically. "The building doesn't look like it caught fire or anything of the sort."
Malfoy rolled his eyes. "Yes, well, it's not as though fire alarms go off only because of fires. Besides, the fire department will probably want an inspection."
It seemed as though the current situation was just barely sinking in with Harry and he once again looked at the blond in shock. "What the bloody Hell are you doing here, Malfoy?"
"I always knew you were dim-witted, Potter, but I do believe we just went through this conversation..."
"Malfoy!" Harry narrowed his eyes. "What are you doing in this building?"
"Not that it's any of your business, but I happen to live here."
Harry blinked, yet again.
"You live here?"
"Yes."
"Here?"
"Why, I believe that's what I just said."
"Here?"
"Potter! How thick are you! Yes, here," Malfoy said, stressing the last word in a high-pitched mimic of Harry's earlier exclamation.
"But...but, this is a muggle neighborhood," Harry replied, making sure to whisper the term "muggle" and looked around suspiciously for good measure.
"Yes, I am aware of that."
"Then why are you here?"
"Are we seriously jumping on that wagon again?" Malfoy sighed in annoyance.
"What? Malfoy, you're out of your mind! What happened to 'pureblood pride' and all that bullshit?" Harry's hands were now gesticulating wildly, momentarily forgetting the time and setting of his unexpected encounter with his school nemesis.
A white-blond eyebrow rose. "It's not bullshit - one of pure blood should indeed be proud of their clean ancestry. But I put all of that behind me and chose to live with the simpler folk. It was the easier choice."
Harry spluttered. "The simpler folk? Easier choice? Malfoy, I think the end of the war knocked a few screws lose in your head!"
Of course, Harry was not worried about the fact that Draco Malfoy was apparently living in the same apartment building he'd just moved into. It was common knowledge that the whole Dumbledore-Snape-Malfoy scene at the tower on the night of Hogwarts' most famous Headmaster's death was staged. The death had unfortunately been quite real; Malfoy and Snape being evil, however, hadn't been.
Apparently, Snape had simply been protecting Malfoy from having to kill someone against his will. The Potions Master-turned-Defense Against the Dark Arts professor had been informed by his student of the plan to break into Hogwarts, and Snape had informed Dumbledore shortly after. Dumbledore, knowing his death was approaching anyway, due to a side-effect from the spell he'd used to destroy the ring-Horcrux, decided that it'd be the perfect way for Snape to show true loyalty to Voldemort.
It had worked, and both Snape and Malfoy were invaluable spies for the light side, having played important roles in the Order's successful defeat over Voldemort.
No, Malfoy living there didn't concern Harry for his own safety. It concerned him for the blond's mental stability.
Malfoy smirked. "Yes, perhaps."
Harry blinked again. He was doing a lot of that, lately.
"So you're trying to tell me that you chose to live in a muggle neighborhood? You chose to live here, this humble apartment building, rather than, say, Malfoy Manor?"
Malfoy's smirk widened. "Yes."
"Right," Harry put a hand to his forehead. "I don't understand."
"And here I thought we were making progress," the blond tut-ed.
As Harry opened his mouth to reply, the loud wail of a siren broke through the titter of the crowd. The fire department had arrived.
Though Harry stayed silent, opting instead to listen to the fire marshal's instructions, he made sure to stay near Malfoy for further questioning later.
"Seeing as the entire building's electrical system has collapsed, we suggest not returning this evening to your homes." A scatter of complaints and groans were heard as the marshal spoke. "Furthermore, the strike seems to have damaged the water-pipes, as well. Floors three, four and five - particularly five - have been flooded. The fifth floor was the first to flood, and has so far reached approximately forty or fifty centimeters of water." The complaints got louder in certain areas of the crowd, and Harry groaned with them. His flat was on the fifth floor. Brilliant.
"Well, it appears as though I can't stay the evening in my apartment," Malfoy said absent-mindedly. "And judging by your moan, you can't either."
"Were you on the fifth floor?" Harry eyed him slightly.
"No, third," the other replied, waving a hand lazily. "I can't imagine the poor bastards that live on the fifth floor. Their flats must look like holes!" He cleared his throat. "And judging by your death glare, you lived on the fifth floor."
Harry continued to glare, before grumbling a "yes".
"Well, no use crying over spilt milk. Or, shall I say, water?" Harry's glare intensified. "Lightning?" Harry let out a low growl. "Oh, come on, Potter! Have a funny bone!"
"What is with you?" Green eyes stared at the blond searchingly. Harry shook his head. "Seriously speaking, Malfoy, what brought you to live amongst muggles?" He whispered the term again.
"I already told you," Malfoy replied with a roll of his eyes. "Remember? You mocked my wording? Honestly, Potter, is it just me or are you even more thick-skulled than you used to be?"
"No, Malfoy, I mean really...why?" Harry chose to ignore the jab at his person. His head was starting to hurt from all the squinting he had to do in order to glare. "What do you mean 'simpler choice'?"
Malfoy sighed. "Well, Potter, plenty of people from our world aren't exactly fond of me, now are they?" He began, careful to avoid words relating to magic. "Death Eaters think I'm a traitor because, well, I am. Order members think I'm a traitor because I planned the raid that caused Dumbledore's death. I still get threats and evil looks on a daily basis, and I just didn't want to deal with that." He narrowed his eyes at Harry. "Is that enough, oh Savior Potter?"
"But, people from the Order know that you helped us out in the end, and that Dumbledore had planned for that raid to happen that way," Harry once again chose to ignore the jab at his person, lest he strangle Malfoy to death right in front of muggle law enforcement officers. "They have no reason to doubt in you."
"Easy for you to say. No matter what I do to redeem myself or how many times it's explained that Dumbledore had planned to die, people will always be wary around me," he shrugged. "To be honest, I don't blame them all that much. But with muggles - well, nobody knows me so nobody expects me to blast their house apart at random."
Harry noticed the young girls from his floor looking startled at Malfoy's last sentence and thought they should continue their conversation elsewhere.
"Er, Malfoy? Maybe we should talk about this someplace else," he said, eyeing the girls carefully, then looking up at the blond. "We need to head out and find somewhere to stay, anyhow."
"We? Suggesting something, Potter?" Malfoy wiggled his eyebrows at him and Harry couldn't help but blush scarlet.
"No! You sick sod, we as in...I mean, we'd...separate...!"
"Yeah, yeah, Potter," Malfoy rolled his eyes. "Save me the virgin act."
"What!" Harry spluttered. "I never s-"
"Right, Potter! Let's just go, yeah? I don't fancy being here when the muggles get rowdy and start acting up against the fire department."
Harry glared at Malfoy, thinking that even when the blond had been acting strange, he was still the same prick he'd been for the seven years they spent at Hogwarts.
"Fine," he said in annoyance. Then he turned and started walking up the street. Since he'd barely finished getting all of his boxes sorted into his flat, he was still wearing his street clothes and his wallet was securely tucked in his back pocket.
He suddenly realized that he couldn't feel Malfoy's presence behind him, so he turned back. Sure enough, the other boy was still standing where they'd been talking just minutes before.
"Malfoy! Are you coming or not?"
Grey eyes rolled. "Potter, you seem to forget that money is very important."
Harry was sure Malfoy had lost it and was confused at the comment.
"Um, no...Malfoy, I have money with me."
"Well, I was already down for the night and didn't think it was necessary to have money in my pyjama pockets," and Harry then saw that Malfoy was wearing black pyjama bottoms and a white t-shirt. "And seeing as the fire department won't let people into the third floor because of the plumbing problems, I highly doubt I'll be able to go back and get it."
"Er," Harry shouldn't, couldn't, wouldn't do what he was considering. In fact, he should take a leaf out of Dobby's book and bang his head against something for even entertaining the idea. But he was Harry bloody Potter, and for some reason he seemed to be physically and emotionally incapable of leaving people in need to sort their problems out alone. He should really start to train himself in that department, seeing as more often than not it was none of his business.
"Er," he started again. "I think I could - um - lend you some..." he trailed off uncertainly.
Malfoy's eyebrows shot up past his slight fringe. "What? Saint Potter's extending a hand to me, the son of Lucius Malfoy and rumored Death Eater?"
Harry rolled his eyes. "Shut up. To quote you, Malfoy, we've already been in this 'wagon'", he emphasized that word by mimicking air quotes as he said it. "I know you were never a Death Eater. And yeah, you're father was evil, but it's not like you had a choice."
If it was possible, Malfoy's eyebrows shot up even higher than before. He seemed to consider his options momentarily, before walking forward. "Lead the way, then, you chivalrous Gryffindor."
Harry raised an eyebrow. "Right, I'll pretend I didn't hear that."
The blond smirked, then narrowed his eyes slightly. "I'll pay you back, Potter, don't think I'm free-loading; I mean, I have money -"
A hand shot up. "Fair enough. Don't worry about it until we can get back into that bloody building."
"Right."
As they walked up the street, Harry gave a sidelong glance at his former classmate. Not only had Malfoy's attitude changed (only to become more annoying still, if that was possible), but he'd changed physically as well. Considering they'd only been out of school for nine months, that was something of a feat (especially because Harry himself hadn't changed...well, ever, really. He thought he looked the same from when they'd first started school, if not taller and a littler broader.).
The blond had finally released his hair from that gel prison he'd kept it in during their school days, and it now roamed freely around his face. Harry noted it was longer than he'd thought it was, skimming his jaw. His face seemed more chiseled and mature, and stubble was visible around his jaw and chin. He was tall, as he'd always been - about two or three inches taller than Harry himself. His shoulders seemed broader, and if Harry tilted his head the right way, he could see the shape of defined abs faintly through the thin material of his shirt.
"See something you like, Potter?" Malfoy drawled suddenly.
Harry's head snapped up to look into amused eyes. "What?"
"See something you like?" He drawled again. "You've been staring at me oddly for the past ten minutes."
"No! I mean, I...er...yeah, well, I haven't see you in so long and I was noticing you'd changed - not like that! I was just -"
"Yeah, Potter, save yourself the humiliation and just shut up." Malfoy turned back to looking forward.
For once, Harry seemed more than happy to comply.
A few minutes of silence followed, during which Harry tried to place where they were.
"Um, Malfoy?" He finally ventured. "Where are we going?"
The other boy sighed. "Honestly! I thought you were the expert on muggle London, having lived amongst muggles far longer than I have?
Harry's eyes narrowed. "I was never an expert, I barely knew the neighborhood I lived in!"
Malfoy scoffed. "You really aren't doing any wonders for my already poor thoughts of your intelligence."
"It's not like I had a choice, Malfoy! Trust me, if it would've been up to me, I would've left my relatives' house as soon as I could've packed my belongings!" And he knew he'd gone too far, given too much information. Harry's eyes narrowed as he realized he'd told Draco Malfoy, the boy who'd taken the most pleasure out of making his life a living Hell, something that could easily be used as ammunition in a verbal fight.
Grey eyes revealed some surprise and Malfoy's eyebrows drew together. "Hang on, are you trying to tell me that the Boy-Who-Live, Chosen One, Golden Boy of the wizarding world did not have a perfect home life?"
"Shove it, Malfoy," Harry grumbled back. Why did he have to go and open his big mouth?
Harry's answer, instead of achieving its desired effect of deterring the other's thoughts away from his personal life and shutting him up, seemed to spur Malfoy on.
"Really, Potter, what could they have done that was so bad? I mean, surely they spoiled you rotten?"
"Just shut it, Malfoy!" Harry yelled, coming to a halt. "My personal life is just that - personal! It's none of your business, so just leave it!" He really just wanted to get through this night. Why'd he have to be an idiot and offer to share his money with Malfoy for a place to stay the night?
"Sheesh, no need to bite my head off," he said, lifting his hands up in mock surrender. "I just figured you were a spoilt child because you always seemed to be so full of yourself, being the Boy-Who-Lived, so I thought -"
"Full of myself?" Harry said in a dangerously quiet voice. "FULL of myself? That's rich, coming from you! You're the one that strutted around, telling everyone how much better you were than them because you were a pureblood!"
"Onto that again, are we?" Malfoy didn't even have the decency to look annoyed, which made Harry angrier. "So, I was a pureblood. Yeah, I was proud - I still am. But with the way people fawned all over you, it would seem almost impossible that people at home wouldn't treat you the same way."
Harry let out a bark of laughter, red flashing behind his eyes and all rational thoughts flying from his head. "Ironic, isn't it, that the 'savior' of the wizarding world, as you called me earlier, was sent to be raised in a house where they hated magic! They treated me like shit! I lived in the bloody cupboard under the stairs until I was eleven, and only then did they let me live upstairs in a bedroom because they were afraid of me!"
Malfoy stared at Harry, with his mouth slightly open in shock.
Oh shit! Harry thought, slamming a hand against his mouth. Why did I let all of that get out? What the Hell is the matter with me!
"Did you really live in a cupboard?" Malfoy suddenly asked.
"No! Just forget everything I said. It was all...I was just trying to get you to shut up." Harry lied quickly. "We should get going." And he turned on his heel and started forward blindly again.
He vaguely registered Malfoy catching up with him when he noticed a decent looking hotel up ahead.
"Is this where you were leading us?" Harry questioned, trying to change the subject.
"Yes."
"It looks okay."
"Yes, it's the only nice hotel in the area."
"How do you know?"
Malfoy raised an eyebrow. "I just know."
Harry had the sneaking suspicion that Malfoy knew because he'd needed the hotel in another - er - occasion, but he didn't care to think about why at all.
They walked into the lobby and Harry recognized several people from his apartment building. He hadn't noticed them walking past, but figured they'd probably gone around some other way or driven.
He wished he'd kept his car keys on him. Maybe they would've been able to avoid that argument earlier (and consequently Harry telling Malfoy about his awful relatives) if they'd gotten to the blasted hotel faster.
Harry told the other boy to wait while he went up to make the reservation, seeing as he was the one with the money, and came back with a scowl on his face.
"What's got your wand in a knot?" (1) Malfoy asked with a smirk.
"We got here too late."
"There are no rooms available? But then why'd you take so long up there?"
"Oh, there are rooms. Just no doubles left." Harry grumbled.
"No doubles?"
"Yeah, Malfoy, all they had was singles. Bloody families and their bloody kids," he glared around the room.
"So what are we going to do?"
"I got a room," Malfoy looked like he was about to cut in but Harry quickly continued. "They said they'd bring an extra cot in."
"Why didn't you just get two rooms?"
Harry's eyes narrowed for what felt like the billionth time that evening. "Because, Malfoy," he began, "I only exchange a certain amount of money at a time. It's not like I have my entire Gringott's vault at hand right now! I have the money in my wallet and that's all. I don't fancy spending it all before I have the chance to get more, so deal with sleeping on a cot tonight!"
"Right then, lead the way."
Harry shuffled forward, and brought them to a stop in front of room 224.
When he opened it, he cursed out loud at the fact that the cot was missing.
"Relax, Potter," Malfoy began calmly. Too calmly for Harry's liking. "They'll probably bring it up in a few minutes. Lets just sit and chat some more, yes?"
Malfoy walked over to the bed and sat on the edge.
Harry eyed him warily, before following. What was going on? Why was Malfoy acting like he'd taken a leaf out of Dobby's book and banged his head against something repeatedly?
"What the Hell's the matter with you?" Harry got straight to the point.
"The matter with me? Why, nothing. Why ever would you think that?"
Malfoy was practically smiling. That did nothing for Harry's wariness.
"I'm serious, Malfoy. Why have you been acting so strange lately? Why does it almost seem as if you're enjoying being here now? Why are you looking at me like that!"
And there it was: Malfoy was now grinning like a lunatic. Harry was about to run for safety when the blond started speaking again.
"You look cute when you're all flustered."
It was a simple sentence.
Seven words. Eight, if you counted the fact that Malfoy had joined "you" and "are".
It left Harry completely and utterly speechless.
He was gawking. Really and truly gawking, open mouth and bug-eyed - the whole package.
After staring at Malfoy as if he'd sprouted a second head and started dancing around the room to Britney Spears, or some other muggle musician, Harry finally regained the ability to control his tongue.
"What!" He yelled, rather eloquently.
"I said, 'you look cute when you're all flustered'," Malfoy repeated, still smiling (though it had lowered to a soft and - dare he think it! - sweet smile). "Did I not say it loud enough the first time?"
"What? Why...! I mean - you said it...you're saying - what the Hell?"
Malfoy raised an eyebrow and Harry chose to give speaking (if his previous attempt at forming sentences could even qualify under the term "speak") another chance.
"Malfoy, this is the last time I'm going to ask and I want you to be completely honest with me," Harry said, surprising even himself with his calm and collected tone. "Did you hit your head before coming down from your apartment? No, worse! The lightning struck through your window and hit you! Do you need me to go get the paramedics? Because I'll -"
"Shut up, Potter. Nothing's happened, my head is fine and I don't need paramedics."
"Then, why'd you -?"
"Just shut up."
"What! No! Something's obviously wr-"
But he'd been cut off. Harry suddenly found himself with an armful of Malfoy and a mouthful of tongue.
His eyes widened and he frantically started to try to push the other boy off of him, but to no avail. The blond, having had the upper hand to being with, used his slightly larger frame to successfully pin Harry onto the mattress.
Harry, being the stubborn fighter that he was, pressed his hands against Malfoy's chest and started trying to use the bed behind him as leverage, pushing...until the other boy started to suck on his tongue.
For a minute, his hands stayed simply resting on the other's chest. He found himself moaning involuntarily into Malfoy's mouth, completely forgetting who was kissing him, but still refusing to respond.
Suddenly, Malfoy pulled away. He kept his lips pressed against Harry's, and as Harry opened his eyes (without even having realized that he'd closed them in the first place), his first sight was smiling grey eyes.
And it hit him that it'd been Malfoy kissing him.
"Shit!" He pushed the other boy away and crawled back, further up the bed. "Malfoy, wha-?"
"You'd be a better kisser if you actually tried, you know," the blond said, still smiling.
"Why in Merlin's name would you want to kiss me!" Harry practically shrieked.
"Potter, don't shriek. It's most unbecoming."
"Wha-? Malfoy! I'm serious -!"
"You're always serious. When are you not serious?"
"What?"
"When are you not serious?" The blond urged.
"Malfoy, now I know you did something to your head!" Harry started getting up, but Malfoy threw himself on top of him, pinning him against the bed again. Harry was more alert this time, though, and he struggled successfully. Just when Harry thought he'd managed to get the Slytherin off of him, the other boy grabbed him by the waist and pulled him back.
All in all, a pretty intense wrestling match broke out on the bed.
Finally, Malfoy had Harry pinned against the mattress, for the third time of the night. Both boys were breathing heavily, and their faces were about two inches apart. Malfoy was once again grinning like a lunatic.
"What is it you want, Malfoy?" Harry asked with resignation.
"I thought you'd have that figured out by now, Harry."
Harry raised a suspicious eyebrow.
"Er...not quite."
Malfoy grinned. Again.
"You."
"Me?"
"You."
"Me, what?"
"You, you."
"Me, me?"
"Yes, you, you."
"What do you mean by that?"
Malfoy gave a frustrated sigh. "YOU! Just you! You, you, you! I want you, Harry Potter."
"You want me?" Harry still looked confused.
"Are you serious?"
"Hey, you're the one saying I'm always serious!"
"Right," Malfoy leaned closer. "So, where were we?"
Harry turned his face to the side.
"Where I still wanted to know what's going on!"
"Merlin's beard, Potter, you've got to be the most difficult conquest ever!"
"I. Am. Not. Your. Conquest!" Harry seethed.
"Let's see about that, yeah?"
And Malfoy let go of one of Harry's hands, opting instead to use his own free hand to turn Harry's face forward. He once again kissed Harry, licking at his bottom lip and, when no response came, biting it instead.
Harry gasped.
Entrance granted!
Malfoy cupped Harry's cheek, and started sliding his hand down his neck, chest, until he was stroking the dark-haired boy's stomach. At this, Harry shivered, groaned into the kiss, and began to respond.
They had a good ten or fifteen minute snog (who was counting the minutes, anyway?), when Malfoy pulled away. His lips hovered over Harry's, and he started applying soft pecks to the other's bruised lips, then moving onto his cheek, nose, forehead, other cheek and back to his lips.
Harry sighed.
"Like that, do you?" Malfoy asked as he pulled back slightly.
"I hate to say it, but yeah," Harry opened his eyes.
"Good. Get used to it." And the blond leaned back in, going for another snogging session. This time, however, the blond ran his hand under Harry's shirt. Once again, the other boy shivered at the contact and Malfoy relished in it. Taking the shivering as a positive cue, he started unbuttoning the dirty white shirt, and delighted in the fact that Harry wasn't protesting.
When he finally had the top button undone, he moved his lips from Harry's and instead attached them to the other boy's neck, feathering light kisses over a specific area and then choosing one particular spot and latching his mouth to it, sucking on it.
Harry gave a sharp gasp and arched his back, his body coming into delicious contact with Malfoy's.
"Shit, Malfoy," Harry moaned.
The blond slithered up slightly and bit Harry's earlobe gently. "It's Draco."
Another moan came forth, and Draco went back to sucking on Harry's neck. He started moving his attentions south after leaving a suitable mark on the dark-haired boy's olive skin, kissing over his chest and towards his right nipple, which he took into his mouth. Harry's back arched again, and Draco wanted to sink into the other's body when he bent one of his knees up, so their bodies fit together better.
Draco could now feel just how excited Harry was about their kissing, which made him moan.
He let the nipple go and started kissing further south, licking every spot he'd kissed. Harry's hands were buried in Draco's hair and as he looked up he saw that Harry was watching his every movement, his wide and bright green eyes dark with lust.
The blond gave Harry a wicked grin and lapped at his bellybutton. Then he sat up.
Harry never took his eyes off of Draco.
Draco made sure to keep his eyes locked with Harry's as he started to unbuckle the other's belt. The Gryffindor simply looked back, not protesting at all. Draco again took that as a positive cue, and went ahead, undoing the button and zipper on the dark-haired boy's jeans. He slipped his thumbs under the waistbands of both Harry's pants and boxers and, as one, brought them down.
He gulped.
There they were. He didn't think he'd actually live to see the day when he and Harry Potter would be at enough peace with each other that this scene would be able to unfold. But there they were. He was living it.
He looked up again to see Harry watching him, calculating his next move. Draco brought the pants and boxers down his legs and all the way off, unceremoniously throwing them to the right, not caring where they landed.
Harry Potter was naked. On a bed. In front of him. For him.
He gulped again.
Having moved down to slip off Harry's bottoms, he was now kneeling by the other's feet, so he bent down and placed a kiss on his right ankle. He slowly worked his way up shins, knees, thighs, until he was at the hipbone.
Draco glanced up again. Harry's breathing was coming in erratic gasps and his mouth was open in a silent "o". He grinned inwardly.
The blond licked at a patch of skin on the other's hipbone and then started to suck on it. He heard a throaty moan coming from above, and continued sucking until he left another suitable bruise. Then he proceeded to a more, shall we say, important area of Harry's anatomy.
He let out a breath over Harry's erection and grinned outright at the other's squirm and groan. Draco kissed it's underside and he was sure Harry would kick him off the bed with his reaction. He gave a long lick, and he knew he could live forever off of those delicious moans eliciting from above him. Harry's fingers were buried in his hair, lightly tugging at strands.
Draco glanced up again and almost came right there as he saw Harry squirming, his back arched, eyes closed and brows furrowed in ecstasy. His mouth was wide open, as more moans came forth.
Another lick and Draco slithered up Harry's body. The dark-haired boy opened his eyes, swallowing both audibly and visibly.
"W-why?" He gasped out.
"I want to save that for later."
"N-no. That's not what I - ah -meant!" Harry squeaked as Draco started nibbling on his neck again, one of his hands sliding up the hard contour of his hips and sides, and back down again.
"What did you mean then?" The blond said into olive skin.
"W-wha...why are you still d-dressed?"
Draco sat up with a wide, devilish grin. Only to be toppled over by Harry.
"Wha-?" It was Draco's turn to stutter.
"I'm getting you bloody undressed."
And that he did, first pulling off Draco's pants and boxers in one go (as Draco had done with him), then tugging at the hem of the other's shirt and pulling it over his head.
Gryffindors really did have no finesse.
Draco liked it.
Harry started attacking his neck, licking and biting, and Draco found himself moaning and squirming like crazy. Man, Potter was feisty! What a pleasant surprise!
He felt Harry wrap a hand around his erection, and he reached a hand down to stop the movement he knew would surely put him over the edge.
"W-wait!"
Draco put all of his force into another rollover, and he was soon on top of Harry, straddling his stomach. Harry's hands immediately came to rest on his hips and he arched his back up. Draco was quite sure this was the most visually erotic being he'd ever encountered in his life. Ever. And that was saying something.
"What are you doing?" Harry asked breathlessly, as Draco got off of his stomach and moved over to one side of his room for his pants. "Are you leaving? After that? We're not even done yet, I -!"
"Calm down, Harry," Draco replied, standing up and holding his wand in his hand. "We're going to need this for the next part," he said, waving his hand around lightly.
Harry leaned up on his elbows and watched curiously as Draco walked back over to the bed.
"Is this your first time?" The blond asked suddenly.
"Erm, yeah," Harry said, decidedly uncomfortable. His eyes dropped to the bed sheets as Draco climbed back up next to him, kneeling next to his feet.
"Does that matter?" Harry's eyes looked up again into grey ones in question. "I mean, my not having experience," he questioned again.
"Of course it does," Draco answered. At Harry's slightly taken-aback look, he tried to smooth his words over. "I can't very well pummel into now, can I? You're not used to it, it would hurt very much. Well, it would hurt anyway, if I pummeled into you," the blond pondered. "What I mean is, I need to prepare you first."
Harry's eyebrows rose. "You pummel into me? Why can't I pummel into you?"
"I am the one with previous sexual experience..."
"Malfoy!"
"Yeah, yeah, Potter. How about tonight I pummel into you, next time you pummel into me?"
Harry seemed to consider this. "Right. How does this go then?"
Draco grinned at him. "Spread your legs."
The other boy complied and Draco licked his lips.
The blond muttered a spell, waving his wand vaguely in the direction of his arse. Harry yelped. His insides were freezing!
"What the bloody Hell was that!" Harry yelped out, squirming uncontrollably.
" Calm down, Harry!" Draco settled himself in between Harry's legs and placed his hands firmly over the other's thighs. "It's lubricant. I need to lubricate you, or else it'll hurt."
Harry calmed down and lay still, panting from his still-rattled nerves. He looked up into Draco's eyes. "Ok, I'm ready."
Draco grinned and Harry felt his hand slide up his thigh and down towards the inside, down to his opening. He took in a sharp breath and held himself very still as Draco's finger slid in.
It was...strange.
The blond slid his finger out and moved it back in, this time accompanied by a second finger.
Harry groaned as he felt Draco stretching him out. Then a third finger joined, and Harry was
moaning like his life depended on it (because, damn it, it very wellmight).
Draco slid all three fingers out and he felt the blond positioning himself. Stars exploded behind his eyes as the other boy slid swiftly in.
"Does it hurt?" He heard Draco ask. Somewhere along the lines, he'd closed his eyes again.
"Yeah, a bit. Don't worry though, keep going." He replied through clenched teeth.
It didn't take saying it twice, as Draco immediately slid out, only to drive back in.
"Open your eyes, Harry," the blond ordered in a whisper. Harry complied.
They began to move in a rhythm, almost like a dance. Draco leading and Harry following.
Suddenly, Harry felt his chest tighten. Stars once again started exploding behind his open eyes, his vision blurred, and his breathing became even more erratic. The need to get Draco inside of him, as far down as possible, was growing in his chest...and in the pit of his stomach. Warmth was spreading, and that was it. He closed his eyes in complete and utter pleasure, threw his head back and very loud moans started sprouting from his mouth.
Above him, he felt Draco ride out his orgasm and then the blond started letting out moans of his own, collapsing on top of Harry's heaving chest.
Breathing as if they'd just run a marathon, they just lay there. Harry wrapped his arms loosely around Draco's back, his legs still hooked behind the other's arse.
Harry felt Draco pull out of him, and with a groan, he turned his face to the side...and fell asleep.
Something warm was moving on top of him. Something soft and warm.
---
Harry opened his eyes.
Draco was staring down at him, upper body braced on his hands, which were on either side of his head, lower body braced on his knees.
Draco Malfoy was on top of him, on his hands and knees.
"Good morning," the blond whispered, not wanting to disturb the silence of the room.
"Good morning," Harry blinked up sleepily.
"Last night was fun," Draco said with a grin.
"Yeah, it was."
"We should go back to the building. See how everything's coming along."
"Yeah, we should."
"Right," Draco crawled over Harry and to the side of the bed, picking his clothes up from the floor.
Harry watched for a minute, then got up and started doing the same.
The dressed in silence. Once they were both done, they just stood in front of each other, both seemingly at a loss for words.
It was Harry who broke the silence.
"They never did bring the cot up, did they?"
Draco looked mildly surprised at Harry's choice of conversation, but looked around with a half-smile. "No, I guess not."
"So, what happens now?" Harry asked softly.
"We go back to our apartment building," Draco said.
Harry's face fell.
"And then out for breakfast?" Draco continued.
Harry grinned.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
"Ok, then."
Draco grinned, and Harry marveled at how happy the other boy seemed that he, his school rival, would be accompanying him to breakfast.
What Harry didn't know, however was that Draco wasn't grinning about breakfast...not entirely, at least.
Draco was grinning that his plan had worked perfectly.
When he'd seen Harry Potter moving into his apartment building, he knew this was an opportunity he couldn't pass up. He'd stupidly let the other boy go after Hogwarts ended, and now that he had a chance at snatching the Gryffindor's heart again, he was going to take it.
Draco had immediately contacted his best friend, Blaise Zabini, and had concocted a plan. A plan that would, if executed properly, bring the two closer together.
He'd asked Blaise to hit the building's side with a spell - one that would make it appear as though an electric circuit had been tampered with and caused a small explosion. The spell would hit near Harry's apartment, to ensure lasting damage so he'd find himself obligated to stay in a hotel.
The fact that it'd been raining (and the spell's effect had therefore gained credibility in muggles' eyes, assuming it'd been caused by lightning rather than a simple short circuit) and that his own floor had been flooded as well just added to his plan.
Blaise had called him crazy for trying, assuring him the "Golden Boy" would never get along with Draco.
Draco grinned again.
He couldn't wait to rub it in Blaise's face how wrong he was.
Draco's plan had indeed succeeded. He had Harry Potter...and he had no intentions of letting go.
The End!
(1) - Hermione says this in Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire (the movie...I can't remember this being a line in the book). The sexual connotations cracked me up...I had to use it!
A/N: Ta-daaaaa! waves hand with a dramatic flair That was my attempt at smut! I really, really, really, really, really...really hope you guys enjoyed it! Especially because I'm a straight female, and have never had male gay sex...so, yeah. Hope it's accurate! I went by previous descriptions. And yeah, it was long...but I felt they needed to have a semi-proper encounter before going at it like rabbits. No "hello...let's go at it like rabbits?". More of a "hello...blah blah blah...let's go at it like rabbits?".
Right...review? pouts