A/N: Sorry I've been absent from FF. I know I have lots of unfinished stories, and I'm soooo sorry for that. I feel very guilty. But, real like, kids and if I'm honest; tumblr has taken up my time.
Here is a Drabble I posted on tumblr. Inspired by Tom Felton interview with BBC Radio 1 - Plank All Over Me.
It had become a routine; the majority of the returning newly formed eighth years, would gather in the common room, and talk, drink, play party games. It was a chance to get to know people, to relax and for some to experience normal teenaged milestones that they missed out on because of the war.
It was a weekly thing, that's happens every Friday night. Even Hermione, who was obsessive over studying, allowed one night a week to unwind.
This Friday was no different. Harry sunk down in the warn out armchair; his armchair. He even contemplated stealing it when he left. He couldn't imagine his life without his chair to sit in. It was the one from the Gryffindor common room. He's sure McGonagall made sure they were transferred to the new eighth year common room. The Gryffindor's probably had lovely chairs, just not this one; he thought smugly.
"What's got you looking so happy?" Hermione asked sat on the floor, by his feet.
"Oh nothing. Just appreciating this chair, is all." He answered honestly.
She smiled at him, she didn't tease him, she loved them too. They always sat in those chairs; since first year. She suspected Harry wouldn't let it go so easily when they graduate.
Harry shifted so he sunk lower in the chair, making a contented noise as he did so.
He glanced over at Pansy and Daphne, frowning at what they were doing.
"Er…what are they doing?" He had seen many drunken Friday night games, but never this one.
Hermione casually glanced in their direction too, before returning to her book, "Oh the, plank game."
Harry sat in silence contemplating her answer. Nope he still did not understand.
"Er…"
She cut him off before he could ask, "It is an exercise really, named the plank. But of course the student body have outdone themselves again, and have turned that into a challenge and a drinking game!"
Harry thought he would be good at planking, he had excellent upper body strength, "Oh. Sounds cool. How is it a game?" He wondered, asking Hermione.
Hermione closed her book, placing it under Harry's chair, out of harms way.
She turned to face him fully, she sensed he was not going to stop asking her questions until he knew exactly what was happening. Ron was yet to arrive. He was in detention for falling asleep during a practice test in transfiguration.
"Obviously it takes great strength to hold yourself up like that. Whoever planks the longest is the winner. I think Seamus has a leaderboard somewhere. If you plank over someone, it make the challenge harder. You see the person underneath you, they cannot touch you, but they can distract you." She explained.
Harry grinned, he liked these silly games that everyone was coming up with.
"Who's the leader?" He asked.
Hermione gave him a devilish smile, "Draco." She delighted in informing him.
Harry sat up straighter in the chair, leaning forwards, forearms resting on top of his legs, "What, Malfoy? Draco Malfoy."
Hermione rolled her eyes, "Yes. How many Draco's do you know? At Hogwarts, let alone ever? Just one."
Harry stood and marched over to Seamus. He didn't see Hermione winking at Pansy.
Seamus removed himself from Deans lap, to stand, "What's up?"
"How long?" Harry blurted without giving any context to his question.
"Er…that's a bit personal, mate. About 6 inches." Seamus joked. He wasn't talking about his wand either.
Harry huffed, he was used to Seamus' dirty jokes and innuendos, and had been putting up with them for years.
"No. How long did, Malfoy, manage the plank challenge?" He asked, straight to the point, adrenaline pumping through him at the thought of challenging Malfoy.
Seamus pulled out a scrap bit of parchment, "Three minutes and thirty eight seconds." He recited.
Harry laughed, "I can beat that." He boasted.
Just then Pansy fell, crushing Daphne, "How long?" She demanded, as she climes off her.
Dean glanced at his muggle stopwatch, "Sorry, only three minutes and fifteen seconds. Malfoy's still the leader."
Pansy swore, and sauntered off to the makeshift drinks table.
Harry told Seamus he wanted to play, and agreed to have Seamus under him. If he could plank with him making stupid jokes and pulling ridiculous faces, then he could plank over anyone.
Seamus moved to lay down on the floor, on his back, his body completely straight and his arms stretched out down beside him. However his legs were open, in order for Harry to place his legs in the vacant space.
Harry moved into position, started by getting into a press up position. He bent his elbows and rested his weight onto his forearms, one rather side of body formed a straight line from his shoulders to his ankles. Seamus tucked neatly under him.
He was holding his body on his tiptoes and forearms alone. He was hovering a few inches above Seamus.
It was actually harder than he initially thought. Not to mention, Seamus' breath smelt of firewhiskey. He kept cracking sordid jokes. Harry was far too busy concentrating on staying in position, he feared if he laughed he would wobble and collapse.
"How long so far?" Harry asked Dean.
Dean glanced down, the black stopwatch resting on his knee, "Two minutes and five seconds." He replied.
"Starting to struggle?" Seamus teased, "I think I can become accustomed to having you above me." He stated, smiling at Dean.
Dean shook his head, amused by his boyfriend.
Harry was struggling, but he wouldn't ever admit that. He never realised how difficult this would be. He still had over a minute to go. A minute and a half if he wanted to beat, Malfoy. Which of course he did. Even if it was only by one second, he still wanted to fucking beat, Malfoy.
Harry had no idea where to look either. He dared not stare at Seamus' face, as he kept make stupid face expressions. He opted to look just to the side, at Dean's trainers. They were rather nice, muggle, and very trendy. Although, Harry was not an expert on what was fashionable and what was not.
Harry decided to count, to count to at least ninety. That way he would have done a further minute and a half, therefore securing the number one spot on the leaderboard.
His body was aching, and he knew he wouldn't manage much longer. He closed his eyes and started counting, slowly and carefully. Counting to distract him, and counting to give him a target for when this pain was to end.
Dean stood, and Harry sensed that he must be nearing, Malfoy's time. The atmosphere changed. The students watching were getting excited, moving closer to watch.
Dean smiled, "Harry…you're almost at, Malfoy's time." He encouraged.
Harry grinned, "Dean…time." He barked.
Dean cheered, "Yes! Harry you've done it. You've just passed his time. Harry…you legend."
Harry waited a few more seconds, and then fell momentarily on top of Seamus. Quickly moving to sit back on his feet.
Dean patted him on the shoulder, before helping Seamus up.
"Most boyfriends would be jealous that their boyfriend spent almost four minutes under Harry Potter." He said teasingly, a smile on his lips.
"What was his final time?" Seamus asked. He was poised waiting to add the time next to Harry's name.
"Three minutes and forty two seconds. That's four whole seconds longer than, Malfoy." He relished in telling everyone.
Harry returned to his glorious comfy chair. Enjoying it more after the exercise.
Ron retuned, and as soon as Malfoy came in, Ron delighted in telling him that his record had been broken, by Harry no less.
Malfoy, was clearly annoyed at being knocked off the top spot.
He sneered at Ron, before turning to face Harry, "Tomorrow night, Potter, I shall be number one again." He then sauntered off in the direction of his room.
Harry watched him leave, he wasn't going to let Malfoy's departure ruin his celebrating. After all, Malfoy could regain his title tomorrow, Harry was planning on making the most of his time as number one.
Harry spent most of his Saturday morning, and best part of the afternoon asleep. Sleeping off his hangover. He dragged Ron out of bed to go meet Hermione for a late lunch; or breakfast to him and Ron.
Hermione had a, told you so, for Harry, upon seeing him. Reminding him that she told him plenty of times last night to stop drinking, otherwise he would regret it in the morning.
He let her nag him, as he ate slowly and in silence. He had no defence, he had drunken too much last night and he did wish that he headed Hermione's words of warning the night before.
He spent the day doing some homework, playing Quidditch with Ginny and Ron, then after dinner lazing around the common room.
"Are you not going to at least prepare for your thing with, Malfoy later?" Hermione asked bluntly, knowing the answer.
Harry shrugged, "It's not something I can prepare for. Not in a day, anyway."
She conceded, admitting Harry had a point, "Be prepared to lose. Malfoy was brilliant. He could have done longer, but stopped because he had gotten the best time." She goaded, trying to get Harry riled up. Knowing he worked best when in that state.
Harry's face morphed into one of determination, "Anything, Malfoy, can do, I can do better."
Hermione sighed, those two were very competitive, and combine that with hormones and unresolved sexual tension…it either spelled disaster, or finally those two would sort it out!
Her and Pansy, along with most of the eighth years hoped they'd sort it out, and soon.
Malfoy strutted into the common room at 7:30pm and ordered Seamus to find someone for him to plank over.
Seamus grinned, a wicked grin, "Well, seeing as it's you and Harry that are fighting for 1st and 2nd place, it's only right that you play this game together." He explained, he seemed to be enjoying the revelation a bit too much.
Malfoy was silent, and for a spilt second, Harry thought he was going to refuse and let Harry stay in first place.
Instead he rolled his shirt sleeves up past his elbows, which Harry couldn't help but notice. To be fair any man who did that, automatically became ten times more attractive; it wasn't Malfoy – no. Not at all.
"Potter, on your back. Now." Draco sneered, in a condescending tone.
Oh how Harry would love to punch him in that smug mouth, and wipe that smirk from his face.
Harry stood and moved over to where Seamus, Dean and Draco were gathered. Harry noted that the common room was more crowded than usual. It seemed as if almost every eighth year student was in here tonight.
Anticipation hung in the air.
Harry took up position on the floor, flat out on his back. He hadn't had any alcohol tonight, so he was aware of everything around him. This game seemed completely different when sober.
Malfoy loomed over him, and snapped, "Spread your legs, Potter."
Harry did as he was told, frowning slightly. This was going to difficult, his body was already reacting to Malfoy's voice and the words he had chosen to use.
Seamus chuckled beside him, he loves a good innuendo. Although, Harry was sure, Malfoy never intended for it to be one.
Malfoy dropped to his knees, positioned in between Harry's legs. Harry tried to remain still, but he wanted to squirm. Having Malfoy there, it was making him uncomfortable; and he didn't want to analyse why right now.
Harry had finally figured out he was bisexual, and now that he knew; so many things made sense. He also felt comfortable. Happy that he now knew who he was and what he wanted. Not worrying and stressing about trying to conform and put himself in box that just wasn't him.
However, in light of his current situation, being bisexual had its disadvantages.
Malfoy, pushed himself up onto his toes, and tested his weight in his forearms, that were beside Harry.
Dean had announced that the timer had started.
Harry had no idea where to look. Should he try any distract, Malfoy? Should he talk? He really didn't have a clue.
Laying as still as he was capable of, he tried to pass the time by identifying all the smells, tags were currently filling the very small space between the two of them.
He could smell, Malfoy's hair products; his conditioner Harry assumed. It was nice, had a hint of coconut. It smelt fresh; clean. Harry berated himself for wasting his time thinking about Malfoy's hair.
Malfoy's cologne also stood out, Harry wouldn't even know where to start; when analysing the smells. He just knew he liked it. It too had a fresh smell about it, with an aromatic twist. It was a pleasant and distinctive smell.
Moving in quickly, Harry risked a glance up, and met grey eyes. Determined grey eyes.
He turned his head to the side, and was staring at Malfoy's forearm; the one with the now scared dark mark. He quickly looked away. He would hate for Malfoy to think he had a problem with it. Fuck this was hard! Where was he supposed to look.
Harry cast his eyes down slightly and his eyes fixated on, Malfoy's neck. His Adam's apple; the way it protruded, and bobbed up and down when he swallowed. He had a sudden urge to suck it, or lick it; no…to bite it, just a little nip.
"Potter, stop staring at my neck!" He heard Malfoy drawl.
Harry chose not to comment, as he had indeed been staring at his neck. He glanced to the other side and focused his attention in Dean's trainers. He twisted his a part of his t-shirt in his fingers, down by his side. He had no idea what had gotten into him. Well, okay, he had a good idea, but still. He needed to concentrate. Not spend his time checking, Malfoy out.
He spent far too much of his time nowadays doing that. Yet, tonight, it is the closest he had been to Malfoy, since…since he rescued him from the fiendfye. They'd been in contact since then, what with the trials and Harry returning his wand. But, they always kept their distance.
'I bet Malfoy's back and shoulders look fucking fantastic in that position.' Harry thought. Unfortunately he was under him, and not looking down at him.,
Harry wanted to ask what the timer said, however he did not want to let on, that having Malfoy above him, was bothering him.
Luckily Dean pipped up moments, "Shit, Harry mate, he's gonna beat you I reckon. He's almost reached your time."
Harry looked into Malfoy's face once again. Malfoy's smug face greeted him.
"Looks like you're a loser once again, Potter." He taunted.
Harry wasn't sure, but he thought Malfoy, looked as if he was focusing on Harry's forehead. Looking anywhere but at his mouth or eyes. Which, Harry found amusing, and quite happy about.
Dean announced solemnly, "Malfoy, is now the leader."
He didn't have an issue with, Malfoy, he just had a bet with Pansy about who would win. Seamus whispered to him, "Cheer up. Harry has to go again. Then, if Harry beats his time it's final. If he doesn't, then well, Malfoy wins and you're out of money."
Suddenly Harry had the weight of Malfoy, sprawled over him. His arms had given out and he had collapsed on top of him. Harry tried sitting up to dislodge him, just as Malfoy tried moving. Resulting in lots of body contact and awkwardness. The fact that a simple brush of Malfoy's skin, or an accidental touch was enough to set Harry's heart pounding, was enlightening.
Now both stood facing one another.
Malfoy looked rather pleased with himself, "I'd give up now, Potter. You're not going to beat that time." He arrogantly boasted.
Harry agreed, the final time, Malfoy, spent doing the plank, was phenomenal. Harry wasn't sure he could beat it, but he sure as hell was going to try. He would never back down, not when it was, Malfoy who he was up against.
"That's what you think." Harry replied confidently.
Harry saw Ron, Hermione and Pansy all huddled together, talking quietly. His curiosity was piqued, but he had more pressing matters.
Malfoy was sat on the floor, not yet in the lying down position. He was looking at Harry's knees and not his face when he said, "Get on with it, Potter. The sooner you fail, the sooner I will be declared victor and can hold it over you."
Harry rolled his eyes, "Well, lay down then." He snapped. Dropping to the floor.
Malfoy complied, opening his legs to allow Harry to move on between them.
"Ready to lose?" Malfoy jeered.
Harry suspected that, Malfoy made rude mocking comments, to deflect people's attention from the real him, or his struggles.
"You know, talking to yourself is weird." Harry said playfully, sending Malfoy a half smile; almost flirtatious.
Malfoy broke eye contact and fussed with getting comfortable on the floor.
Finally he became still, and Dean told Harry to start. Pushing the timer in his stopwatch.
Oh Merlin, Harry was looking directly at Malfoy's Adam's apple; and the urge to kiss it was rising up again.
Not even ten seconds had passed, and Harry was wavering and letting his desire for Malfoy, override all other thoughts.
Malfoy's hair had always been a sight to behold, but nowadays it was in a class of its own. Harry's eyes had moved from Malfoy's throat, to his hair; briefly flicking to his mouth along the way.
Harry had already admitted to himself, and maybe Ron and Hermione, that he thought Malfoy was attractive. But, like he told them at the time, who wouldn't find Malfoy attractive. You could be straight, and still think that. He just was. It was fact.
Harry's thoughts were interrupted by the person who was currently on his back, underneath him.
"Struggling already." He stated, not posing it as a question.
Harry locked eyes with him, his determination to beat the git intensifying.
"Not at all." He confidently replied.
He was surprised at his core body strength, it was still fucking hard to do, but he was impressed with himself. His whole body was straining to keep in position. His back was beginning to hurt, and his muscles were on fire.
His brain didn't seem to want to concentrate on these issues though, choosing instead to focus on how close his chest was to, Malfoy's, and his crotch too.
His left forearm was up against, Malfoy's upper arm. That tiny amount of touching, was causing Harry's overactive imagination to run wild. He wasn't sure if Malfoy felt it too, or whether he was building it up in his head.
The chemistry between them , it was almost tangible. Whether it be hate, rivalry or newly experienced lust that their relationship fed on -the chemistry between them had always been intense.
Harry was wearing a shirt sleeved t-shirt, so the majority of his arm was exposed. Harry noticed Malfoy was looking at his bicep, and bit back a grin.
"I say there are two reasons for you staring at my muscles. One, you're jealous of them, or two, you're checking them out. In which case, like what you see?" Harry asked, not stopping to think about what he was saying. Too high from the fact, he thought Malfoy liked him, even if it was just a fraction.
Grey eyes slid slowly to meet his gaze, "Neither actually. I was trying to avoid looking at your face."
Malfoy obviously meant that as an insult, but the spiteful tone was remiss.
Harry lowered himself by a fraction, not enough for anyone to notice; or anyone but Malfoy.
"Worried if your looked at my face long enough, you'd want to kiss me?" He challenged, quirking an eyebrow and not breaking eye contact.
"….not at all. Of course not….why would you say that?" Malfoy stumbled and struggled to answer in his usual smooth manner.
Harry made a show of looking at Malfoy's lips, and then back up to his eyes.
"Shame. Because when I win, a kiss would be a great way to celebrate my victory." He taunted.
Malfoy swallowed and Harry's eyes were drawn to his Adam's apple once again.
"Fuck…" He whispered quietly, yet he was sure Malfoy heard. Besides, Harry was sure the desire in his eyes was evident.
Harry ducked his head down further, bringing him closer to Malfoy's face.
"You smell so good…" He admitted, breathing in the scent of what he come to associate with Malfoy only.
Harry could see Malfoy was unsure, as if he could not bring himself to believe that Harry wanted him.
"This is just you trying to win. Some weird tactic." He said out loud but more to himself.
Harry's hand was resting again Malfoy's upper arm. His hand closed into a fist, but he moved his thumb to caress Malfoy's arm, reassuringly.
"I assure you, that is not the case. In fact, I've been trying and failing, to not get aroused during this." He admitted.
He was confident no one else heard, there was a magical radio playing – loudly, all the other eighth years were gathered in pairs, groups and socialising.
The only people near them were Dean; with the timer, and Seamus. But, they were otherwise indisposed. Far too busy kissing to pay attention to them.
A few seconds later, Dean broke away from Seamus to tell Harry he was close, but still had some time to go.
Harry was wavering, honestly thought he wasn't going to be able to beat Malfoy's time. Looking at, Malfoy, he knew it too. Knew Harry was close to failing; to losing.
Before Harry knew what was happening, Malfoy had freed and arm, and was pulling Harry down towards his lips; with a hand placed on the back of his neck.
Their lips met and Harry could her cheers and cries of protest from students.
Harry lowered his bottom half, so he was now laying partially on top of him.
"You know, I've wanted to kiss your damn Adam's apple since I started this stupid plank." He begrudgingly said, to Draco's neck.
He watched as Malfoy's Adam's apple bobbed, from him swallowing.
Harry gave in to the temptation and went in for the kill. Kissing right on the point he had been fixated on for ages. Malfoy didn't push him away, he didn't punch him; in fact he tilted his head backwards, so his neck was further exposed.
Harry didn't need telling twice. He proceeded to run a series of kisses over Malfoy's neck, his hand moving towards Malfoy's hair. Malfoy had moved his legs too, they were now entwined and wrapped around Harry.
Later, Harry questioned Malfoy's motives. The reasons why he initiated the first kiss. Many students claimed it was because he knew, Harry was going to beat his time, and therefore kissed Harry to ensure he would win. They claimed he cheated. Harry believed that he was in fact helping him. He could see Harry was struggling, that he was about to give up, and kissed him. That way Harry wouldn't be a loser, just someone who would have won, if he hadn't been kissed.
Either way Harry didn't care. Malfoy kissed him. And harry hadn't stopped kissing him since.
Once again he missed Hermione and Pansy, talking. They had hoped that Harry would want to plank, to beat Draco, and that it would lead to them finally getting together.
- The end -