Harry Potter does not belong to me. Any characters and situations used from said wondrously written novels belong solely to J K Rowling and Co. I am merely borrowing these characters for my own creative pursuits and amusement.

Summary: Draco notices something out of place and is out to discover the truth. H/D, subtle Mpreg.

A/N: The way my account is set up, it sends me alerts when I upload a new story or chapter. I got the E-mail for this, but when I tried to click the link to see how it ended up, it said the story was not available. So here it is again. I hope it works this time!

Draco searched frantically through the drawer, looking for the dark brown box that held the key to his existence.

"Where is it?" he growled.

His fingers traced the smooth floor of his underwear drawer with practiced movements, anxiously reaching and reaching but grasping at nothing. A frown carved onto his face as his slight confusion mixed with simmering annoyance, a boiling wriggling displeasure in his chest.

"Bloody fucking heat!" He slammed his hand on the top of the armoire, amber and clear blue cologne, shaking in their glass bottles.

He absolutely loathed extremely humid summer days as they literally left him hot and bothered. Drying his sweaty palms on his shirt, he lifted carefully folded undergarments, checking to make sure that everything was in its place. If everything was in its place, then the box shouldn't be too far off.

But everything wasn't. Where the hell were his green silk boxers?

His palm met the wood again, this time, followed by a growled "Fuck!"

His shaking hands moved under the garments once more. Maybe he'd shrunken it. Maybe he'd forgotten where he kept it. Maybe he'd just finally lost it. Maybe—

His fingers brushed the box in the front corner of the drawer. Relief. First and foremost, relief. Then puzzlement. He would never put it there.

His fingers tightly gripped the edge of the drawer. Potter had some explaining to do.

Draco sat on the bed, staring at the dark brown box with the gold letters on the cover. Then he fell back, the familiar scent of musk and something mystic of them escaping from the tangle of sheets and covers. With a sigh, he balanced the box on his stomach, staring at the ceiling as he contemplated his next move.

Better yet, a plan.

xxxxx

Too busy scribbling furiously, Harry didn't notice the padding of Draco's feet against the carpet. So when Draco's hands fell heavily on his shoulder, he tensed, parchments shuffling and forearms moving sporadically to cover up his work.

"What's this then?" Draco asked, arms draping around Harry's broad shoulders. "Must be serious since you've officially reached stage three of dishevelled hair," he murmured. His hand travelled to said, dishevelled hair, combing, fingers gently caressing the warm scalp beneath.

"Oy!" Harry exclaimed, ruffling his hair to its previous state. "I brushed it today. Maybe if you weren't running your spindly fingers through it constantly..."

"Spindly?" Draco displayed his fingers, wiggling and flexing them for them both to see. "Don't be daft. They're anything but spindly. They're slim and elegant, perfect for musical seduction," he said, fingers dancing rhythmically on the edge of the desk, imitating their precise movements over the keys of a piano. He played a short solo, the imaginary notes producing a deep resonating melody that hummed in his chest and throat.

Cheek to cheek, Harry felt the echo of the melody in himself. He felt Draco's warm skin, the vibrations of his voice, his playful mood. They caused something within him to thrum with a pleasant energy that left him feeling whole and nostalgic.

"Don't you think?" Draco urged.

"Err, yes, that's what I meant. And you know what? I think you should go practice some more. You almost had that one yesterday..."

"No...I think I'm more interested in what you've got there." Scrutinizing grey eyes darted to the parchments that were covered by Harry's arms. Draco leaned forward to support himself on pale limbs, and with his firm chest pressing more and more into Harry's back, he tried to glance at the words scribbled on the parchment.

If Harry's handwriting wasn't absolutely rubbish, he might have succeeded. But then again, Harry's handwriting was absolutely rubbish, and there were so many things scribbled out or with a line through them, it was hard to decipher even if it had been legible to begin with.

And then Harry was laughing at him. Quietly, yes, but it was obvious by the shaking of his shoulders, his flushed face, his only somewhat muffled snickers. He directed an open grin at the nosy blond, never moving though his abs ached in his silent laughter.

Draco sighed, his warm breath ghosting over Harry's flushed ear and drifting, scented sweet.

"Well, what is it? I'll find out anyway," Draco said quietly, eyes shining with mischief.

"Just something for work," Harry said. He quickly stacked the papers into a sloppy pile. "Confidential. I wanted to get it out of the way before the weekend. Two whole uninterrupted days of me, how awesome is that?" An arm laced surreptitiously around Draco's neck and pulled him close for a kiss on the cheek. Harry used the brief moment of distraction to tuck the parchments into an open drawer of his desk, nudging it close all in one swift move.

"Hmmm." Draco hummed in that tone. The one Harry knew as I know you're up to something, and I won't press any further right now, but you bloody well better tell me later, or else! In fact, you WILL tell me later!

He kissed behind Harry's ear and nibbled his earlobe, smiling to himself when Harry's face scrunched up cutely in response. "Did I interrupt at a bad time?" he asked in a sultry whisper. "A private wank session?" His hands drifted down the smooth plane of Harry's chest and his firm abdomen, fingers slipping under the hem of his shirt before receding.

Harry's breath hitched, his body twitching in excitement where Draco touched him.

"Please tell me yes," Draco added quietly.

"Maybe..." He patted an empty spot on his desk enthusiastically. "Sit. I've barely seen you all day, you lazy bum."

Draco slapped Harry's hands away from his hips and scooted onto the desk. "As tempting and appealing as I might look, I'm not a feast, Potter. I would appreciate it if you didn't grab me with your greedy hands," he said, though the timbre of his voice, the tilt of his lips, the look in his eyes all begged, come hither.

Harry grinned. "But you look so sexy. All glowing and beautiful," he said bashfully, hesitant to call his lover—a man that prided himself on his stunning handsomeness—beautiful. Then he was standing and his hands were on Draco's thighs, easing them further apart as he pressed their bodies together.

"Come here," Draco urged, pulling his bottom lip into his mouth. His chin tilted up, beckoning Harry from beneath hooded eyes darkened by lust. He allowed Harry's chaste kisses, his eyes fluttering closed as he responded with teasing ones of his own—barely there yet hungry kisses that made Harry tingle in anticipation.

"You know, it would do your son well to remember that my internal organs are not playthings," Draco groaned against Harry's lips.

"Is he asleep? I can't tell," Harry sighed.

"Based on the kick to what feels like my kidney? I think not. He's a bit shy when it comes to people he doesn't love as much as he does, me."

Harry returned to his chair with a smile. "Oh, you think so?"

"Maybe. But if it's any consolation, I like you a lot," he said, leaning back on his arms. He crossed his legs at the ankles to swing them slowly.

"Wow," Harry said, amazed. "Lucky me." He smiled innocently though his intentions were not; his hand slid down the gentle curve of Draco's stomach and under his shirt, slow circles caressing. The skin underneath was warm to the touch and stretched, soft under his fingertips. "You should know that I might like you a lot too. And there is a slight possibility that I might even, you know... love you."

"I'm worthy of more than slight, Potter."

xxxxx

Everything was going swimmingly.

Draco continued to watch Harry now, mirth swimming in his eyes. His head tipped to the side with a quiet whimper and fine blond hair fell away from his face to display a slim, pale neck. Like a flower soaking up the light of the sun, the sensations of Harry's hands on his skin—his attentions—urged him on.

A small noise of pleasure escaped from his lips when Harry's palm pressed into his twitching cock. And then he laughed. A laugh rich with content and a one-man conspiracy. "I see you finally decided to read the book I got you for Christmas."

"You mean the book you got yourself?" Harry asked, squeezing.

"I've read it already. Every sex god has to start somewhere," Draco drawled.

"Yeah...I found it in the closet the other day. You like?"

"There's a slight possibility," Draco said, smirking.

"I'm worthy of more than slight, Malfoy," Harry mimicked.

"Tch. Don't be silly."

Harry roared with laughter, swatting Draco on his calf. "You're impossible!"

"I'm impossible? You're a tease!" Hook.

"Who said I was teasing?"

Line.

"Teasing implies that I don't have the intent to follow through."

Sinker.

"First, I have a question for you."

"Yeah?" Harry's asked, his thumb caressing.

"Well, I was wondering if you happen to know where my green silk boxers are. I haven't seen them since yesterday." Because they had been in the back of the drawer where the dark box was supposed to be, but wasn't.

Harry shifted warily in his seat, noting the slight change in the mood between them. "Er, I don't think so. Maybe they got lost in the wash?"

"You think?"

"Probably..."

"I sure hope not. Those are my favourite pair. I had to wear these," he said, pulling at the black fabric. "And you know they don't fit the same. Not nearly as comfortable either—"

"...and they itch, and it's not nearly as soft, and you get hot, and it sticks to your skin, and by the end of the day you feel like you literally have your knickers in a twist. Yadda, yadda, yadda..."

Draco scowled and threw a ball of parchment at Harry's head.

"Hey!" Harry grinned stupidly, a fool in love—er, lusty love.

"I can do worse."

"Not six months pregnant, you can't!"

Draco groaned and rubbed the back of his neck tiredly. "Don't remind me."

Like a heat seeking creature, Harry was drawn to the strong, but delicate juncture of Draco's neck. There was a strange allure that he found difficult to resist when that pale column was exposed. It was so perfect and tantalizing...

"Would you like to get out of said knickers?" Harry suggested, his hand finally making contact with the hot skin of Draco's cock.

Definitely sinker.

Draco bit his lip, moaning as his legs spread open.

xxxxx

Harry hadn't suspected a thing.

"Dray..." He reached to join his fingers with the ones tightly grasping his hips. Bent over the desk, he held himself up with an arm propped against the hard wood, fingers clenching and unclenching, nails scraping the already worn surface.

Thrusting slowly, Draco groaned as his lover squeezed around him. Hot, silken walls gripped him like a vice.

"Harder Draco..."

And Draco complied, drawing out a sporadic sequence of moans, and yes, and oh gods from Harry's lips.

Just when Harry thought he couldn't take it anymore; when he started to lose himself to the pleasure that ebbed and flowed through his body like liquid heat; when he surrendered to the sensations till all he could even think of thinking about was Draco and pleasure, Draco stopped.

"Draco."

He moved his hips lazily. "Harry, now's your chance to confess."

"Er, what?" he asked, thoroughly confused, mind elsewhere, maybe in a lush rainforest of exotic creatures with Draco moving erotically in dance just for him. "Draco, I have no idea—"

"Don't play coy, Potter!" Skin slapped skin and again Draco stilled.

He tightly grabbed the base of Harry's erection with one hand, tracing the bones of Harry's spine with the other. He knew how much it drove Harry crazy when his hand roamed over his body as they made love. When they fucked. Shagged. "I won't let you come until you admit it," he hissed into the pink shell of an ear.

"What?" There was disbelief in his voice. "Let me? I can come just fine without your permission, thank you," Harry growled, completely forgetting about the part of Draco's words where the blond accused him of something to which he was clueless.

"Hm. Really now, it doesn't seem that way at the moment." Then he tugged to prove his point.

Harry groaned and collapsed to the desk, his hands becoming a pillow for his head. "Gods, you're insane," he moaned, pushing back and wiggling so Draco's cock moved inside him.

"But yet you like me a lot and possibly even love me."

A slow swivel of his hips had Harry's back arching, searching for more of the pleasure as his building climax, a brilliant white energy, shimmered.

"I take it back, I don't love you!" He cried out, his fingers scrabbling for purchase on the flat surface of the desk as Draco rocked forward.

"You can't. That would make you a liar," he told him. "Gryffindors aren't supposed to lie, are they?"

Harry huffed in frustration. "I can, and I just did. Look, can you be insane later? I really need to come," he whined, wiggling his hips again. A small smile bloomed on his face when he heard Draco groan and withdraw slightly behind him.

But Draco had his own agenda. He would stick to the plan no matter what: seduce, fuck, demand.

"First admit it," Draco commanded, and he started a rhythm of slow thrusts, enough to bring them to the edge of the ultimate pleasure, but not enough to send them toppling into the abyss.

"I don't know what you're talking about!"

"You know," Draco accused, spreading Harry's legs further, fingers grasping, pulses racing.

Blood rushed and pleasure surged with each tug of his cock, each slide of skilled fingers over the darkened head. Harry could do nothing as Draco teased his body like the ivory keys of his piano, eliciting from him moans and harsh cries that were beyond his control, pulled from his chords, a reaction to Draco's every action.

He knew this game. But he didn't know until then that was the game Draco was playing.

"What?" Harry asked again.

Draco stopped, slowed his breath to get himself back under control. "I know you ate my chocolates," he finally said.

"You really are insane! Chocolates?" Harry asked with a hidden smile, and he was still panting, his breath condensing on the surface of the desk that his cheek was pressed against. It was strange having this conversation with Draco buried balls deep inside him, but then again, they always were a strange pair. "Why do you need me to admit this if you so strongly believe I ate them?" Harry yelled.

"Because," was his reply, and his hand slowly moved down the length of Harry's hard cock, squeezing. At the same time, he gave a harsh thrust and Harry's back arched again, his toes curling with the shock of pleasure that travelled up his spine.

xxxxx

"Really though, Harry. Did you really think I wouldn't notice? Really? And then you wiped your guilt covered hands all over my favourite boxers. What were you thinking? Actually forget I asked that—you weren't, otherwise you would have known to replace the boxers before this afternoon and to at least return the box to the right spot! I notice these things, you know. Don't think I don't."

"Of course you do. But I was doing you a favour—"

"By eating my chocolates? That's absolutely off limits!"

"Healer Jensen said you need to eat fewer sweets and I saw that package of crisps in your sock drawer too. Don't come crying to me when—"

Draco elbowed him in the ribs. "Don't even finish that sentence," he growled.

Harry glanced down at the spot where he had just been assaulted by Draco's sharp joint and glanced up with a blank face. "Was that supposed to hurt? There was so much padding around your elbow that—"

"You insensitive arse!"

Harry scoffed. "How do you get them, anyway?"

The blond snickered as if he just shared an inside joke with a close friend, which in this case, happened to be himself. "I have my ways."

"Are these ways expensive?" Harry prodded.

"Hm," Draco confirmed. "But it is absolutely worth it," he said. His head fell to Harry's chest and he moaned with a different kind of desire.

Harry's hand stilled in fine blond hair and he grinned. "I definitely agree. Am I allowed to have more?"

Draco scowled and sat up on the couch were they lay tangled. "Do the words 'absolutely off limits' mean nothing to you?"

"There's a slight possibility?"

FIN

Review please!

ScarlettLilly