"...detention, with Mr. Malfoy, what next Mr. Potter, I'd expected better than that. What would your father..."
Harry tuned out McGonagall letting his eyes drift over to the unimpressed blonde leaned against a desk on the opposite end of the room. He swallowed slightly, face turning bright, as silver swirling eyes flicked up to meet his. He could imagine the words Malfoy wanted to say 'yes Potter?'. Harry smiled slightly, an embarrassed hum making his fingers tap restlessly.
Even from here his skin looked so soft. Harry fought the urge to close his eyes and moan into his hands. He wasn't meant to feel this way, especially not for his main school rival, especially for the kid who called him "Potty" yesterday, especially for a boy. Sharp green eyes traced those subtle lips, the arched cheekbones that caught the candle light just so, the fluid robes that seemed to curl around his waist just so. What was underneath he thought to himself, before turning bright red and looking away.
A flicker of a smirk caught his eye from the corner of his vision, a flash of that smugness that made him want to crash the other boy against the door and kiss him all over until no one knew where he began and Malfoy ended. Harry swallowed, blaming his hormones for these crazy thoughts, before he settled himself back against the desk.
Oh Merlin, how would he survive detention when Malfoy looked so god damned magnificent, smug git.