A/N: In which relationships are defined, kisses are shared, embarrassment is expressed, and sexual histories are discussed.
Chapter 4
"So tell us how it went already!"
Pansy's shrill voice was the first thing Draco heard when he opened the door to the dorm he shared with Blaise. She was sprawled across Draco's bed flipping through a magazine while Blaise sat on his own bed reading what looked to be another of those Myerscough mysteries he had become so obsessed with.
Shrugging off his jacket, Draco crossed the room and dropped it on top of his trunk, nudging Pansy with a sigh to get her to make room for him on his bloody bed, for god's sake.
"Um," Blaise's voice spoke up behind him and Draco turned just enough to see him out of the corner of his eye, "did you forget whose jacket that is?"
"Mine now," Draco grinned, sounding smug as he added, "Potter thinks I look so good in it he wants me to keep it. And wear it forever. He expressly forbade me from ever giving it back to you."
"So it went well then?" Blaise wondered, sitting up to gaze at Draco speculatively. "The plan is working?"
At the reminder of the plan, Draco felt his stomach clench. God, how he wished his first date had not been the result of some stupid form of shameful manipulation on his part. "Yes, it went fine," Draco answered in a stiff voice.
"What did the two of you end up doing?" Pansy poked him with one foot.
"Shopping," Draco said casually, hoping the other two would not continue to press him for details—a hope he already knew to be in vain. There were no two nosier bastards in the world than Pansy Parkinson and Blaise Zabini.
Pansy gave him a withering stare. "You can't expect us to believe that you've been shopping this entire fucking time, Draco. What did the two of you do after you went shopping?"
Draco shrugged, praying his face was not pink. "We went to dinner. And then walked around a bit and talked." And kissed. And got stared at by Muggles. And had my entire life changed in the course of one evening. Draco decided not to add any of that last bit.
"Potter thought you and I were a couple, you know," Draco said, hoping that he would be able to somehow get their minds off asking about the very private and very, very confusing details of the date; Draco still did not know what to make of any of it.
"He thought you and I were a couple?" Pansy asked, one eyebrow raised, appearing ready to scoff, but Draco cut her off before she could.
"No," he smirked, "he thought Blaise and I were a couple."
"What?!" Pansy looked outraged. "Why would he have assumed the two of you were a couple over the two of us? You and I very nearly were a fucking couple! How many bloody times have we snogged? And I'm the only person who's ever been willing to suck you off! How dare he! I'm sorry, Draco, but your new boyfriend is an idiot."
"How jealous was he?" Blaise grinned widely. "When he asked about us? Was it after you told him you spent the whole day wearing my clothes?"
"Why the hell would he even think that in the first place?" Pansy demanded, still sounding upset. "Why wouldn't he have thought you and I were together? Or me and Blaise, even? Does Potter just assume that everyone is bent because he is? I could very easily be involved with one of you if I wanted!"
"No you couldn't," both boys said simultaneously, laughing at Pansy's thunderous expression.
"That shows what either of you two sorry dickheads knows," she sniffed. "I'm a right fucking gorgeous catch and either of you would be lucky to have me if either of you actually deserved me. Stupid arseholes."
"You are a catch, Pansy," Draco said in a tone he hoped was gentle but not patronizing. She really did look hurt and Draco couldn't help but feel bad for laughing at her so blatantly. Next time he would be polite and only laugh at her in his mind.
"A gorgeous catch," Blaise added, and Draco knew he felt bad too.
"And don't you fucking forget it," she nodded, finally relaxing back on the bed. "But seriously, Draco, why did Potter think you and Blaise were involved?"
"Because," Draco shrugged, "he said we're always together and I guess he saw that horrid kiss that Blaise forced on me in the Great Hall the other day like the perverse molesting bastard he is."
"You could only be so lucky to be molested by me," Blaise said, sounding cheerful and unrepentant.
"Please don't force me to prove you wrong by having to be sick all over you if you even try to attempt it," Draco drawled, shuddering at the traumatizing image of Blaise making any sort of move on him.
"Charming," Blaise drawled back.
"Aren't I though?" Draco grinned. "Potter certainly thought so, at least."
"Oh my god, Draco," Pansy said suddenly, a wide smirk spreading across her lips. "You two totally snogged, didn't you?"
"What?" Draco's head snapped around. "Why would you—we didn't—"
"You two totally snogged in front of a million Muggles!" Pansy cackled, and Draco glared at her.
"Oh, stop talking like you were there," he snapped, feeling his cheeks darken in embarrassment. "You don't know anything."
"I know you snogged Potter's face off in front of a hundred Muggles," Pansy sang, still laughing.
"It was one kiss!" Draco said explosively, "And there weren't a hundred Muggles!"
Both Pansy and Blaise stared at him, and Draco realized that although they had been laughing, they were still surprised to hear him confirm that Pansy had been right.
"So how was it then?" Blaise asked, and Draco tried his best to ignore the smirk in Blaise's voice. And the smirk on Blaise's annoying smirking face. "What kind of kisser is Potter? Is he all Gryffindor intensity? Or all Gryffindor sweetness?"
"Is he more romantic or rough?" Pansy added, exchanging a smirk with Blaise. "Did he ask your permission first all hesitant and kittenish, or did he just grab you and kiss you?"
"Oh please," Draco scoffed, his face positively on fire, "he's not a dirty molester like Blaise, he didn't just kiss me out of nowhere without my permission."
"So you did give him permission!" Pansy grinned. "Who initiated it?"
"Um…" Draco's cheeks darkened even further when he realized that, actually, he had been the one to first bring up kissing, and he had then been the one to actually kiss Potter.
"I knew it!" Pansy howled happily. "I knew it would be you! Blaise, you absolute sucker, pay up!"
"What?" Draco gaped as Blaise sighed loudly and tossed Pansy a Galleon from his bedside table. "The two of you bet on us?"
"Of course," Pansy said smoothly, tucking the Galleon away in a pocket of her robes. "Blaise, the idiot, bet that it would be Potter who kissed you first, but I'm the smart one who knew that it would be you."
"How would you know that?" Draco grumbled, feeling oddly betrayed by their betting. "I already told you that you don't know anything. Accept your ignorance already and move on, Pansy."
"You do realize that it doesn't actually make anything true just because you say it, darling," she pointed out, still sounding far too cheerful for Draco's liking. "Besides, I knew that if there was any chance of anyone getting to manipulate Harry Potter into a snog, you would be the first to take it."
"I never said he wouldn't snog Harry Potter. Obviously he would," Blaise interrupted. "But between the two of them, Potter is clearly the braver one. I don't think it's such a mistake to have assumed that Potter would be the aggressor."
Draco stared at the two of them incredulously. "What are you talking about? Did you forget that I was only on that stupid date with Potter because of Blaise's idiotic plan that I was fool enough to go along with?"
"Oh, as if it was the plan that made you go," Blaise said, waving his hand carelessly.
"What does that even mean?" Draco huffed, still upset. "I'll say the same thing to you that I'm forced to say to Pansy every time she opens her mouth—you don't know anything, Blaise!"
The prat only sniggered knowingly in response.
"And you don't know anything either, Pansy!" Draco reminded her sternly.
In response, she gave him a pitying look, as though she also knew something that he did not, which only served to add to Draco's upset.
"You don't know anything," he repeated.
"I know enough," she said lightly, standing and kissing Draco on the forehead. "I also know it's late, and I need to sleep. I'm glad the date went well, Draco. And Blaise," she turned to smirk at him, "I'm glad that you were able to learn a lesson about not betting against me, especially when it comes to Draco. I think we can all agree that I know him the best and that in future, you should simply concede to me rather than embarrass yourself by making foolish bets you obviously can't win. But do try not to wallow in your humiliation too much tonight, hmm? Save at least a bit of wallowing for the morning when I can enjoy it more."
Blaise glared. "This is why neither of us wants to be with you, you realize."
"Oh, I already know why," she said in an airy voice, crossing to the door. "It's because I'm far too good for either of you and neither one of you have ever deserved me. Goodnight, darlings." Blowing them both a kiss, she stepped through the doorway and shut the door behind her, allowing Draco to finally change out of his ridiculously tight Muggle clothing.
"Speaking of bets…" Blaise said, and Draco glanced over with his shirt off to find Blaise smirking. "What did Potter think of the clothes, hmm? How many Galleons do you owe me for his eyeballs popping out of his head when he saw you?"
Have I told you how fucking hot you look in that goddamn jacket? The sound of Potter's voice flashed through his mind and Draco blushed. "He seemed to like them," he answered in a stilted voice, hoping that would be enough for the other boy.
"What did he say?" Blaise pressed. "How speechless was he when you first walked up to him?"
At the remembrance of Potter's heated stare raking over him, Draco blushed again. "I suppose I might owe you a Galleon for the speechlessness," he allowed reluctantly, fighting a smile.
"This was the best plan I ever had!" Blaise beamed. "I can't believe it's actually going to work!"
Right, Draco thought glumly, the plan. God, he hated the plan.
"I'm going to bed," he announced, casting a teeth-cleaning charm on himself before crawling into bed.
"I'll see you in the morning then, you stud," Blaise grinned. "I bet you another Galleon that Potter'll—"
"No more betting," Draco sighed, pausing just as he was starting to draw the curtains, "for Christ's sake."
"Why don't you want me to have any fun?" Blaise pouted. "This was my brilliant plan and I deserve to have the fun of betting on my best friend's personal life. It's one of the main reasons I have best friends, Draco."
"Just go to bed, you tosser," Draco shook his head, fighting another smile. God, he hated Blaise sometimes.
"Yeah," Blaise yawned, settling down. "I think you'll be the one tossing soon."
Glaring, Draco wrenched the curtains shut without another word, lying back and trying to get comfortable as he thought back over the strange, oddly pleasant day. Draco had no idea what was going to happen on Monday, but as long as it involved Potter somehow, Draco was excited. Stupid Potter, he thought fondly, closing his eyes and pulling the blanket up to his chin.
And not for the first time, Draco fell asleep thinking about Harry Potter.
"Hey! Malfoy!"
A familiar voice sounded behind the three Slytherins and they all turned as one to watch Potter hurrying up to them, sounding breathless as he said "Hey," again, smiling nervously at Draco.
"Hi," Draco returned, feeling his heart immediately begin hammering. Why had Potter chased him down like that? Was he looking for another date? Another kiss? More confessions? Draco wouldn't necessarily say no to the first two. After all, the plan relied on the first two. Not so much on the third—Draco was more than to content to live the remainder of his life without ever having to confess anything to anyone ever again.
"Um, what are you—" Potter raked a hand through his hair, shooting Pansy and Blaise an uncomfortable look. "Can I—where are you—um, you, er, have a free period right now, don't you?"
"Yes," Draco answered, a small smile beginning to spread across his lips. What was Potter asking?
"We'll go on ahead," Blaise cut in, giving Potter an amused look. "We'll see you in class, Draco."
"You boys have fun now," Pansy smirked, leaning in close to whisper, "But not too much fun," in Draco's ear, smirk widening as he blushed. The two blasted lovely gits strolled off down the corridor, seeming to not have a care in the world.
Potter stared after them in bewilderment. "Your friends seem oddly okay with us talking."
"Yeah," Draco agreed weakly, unwilling to tell Potter just why it was that the other two were so okay with it.
"So," Potter turned back to him with a nervous smile. "I, er, have a free period too. And I know that I should be spending it doing homework and studying for N.E.W.T.'s, according to Hermione. But sometimes her advice is stupid so I chose to ignore it and come find you instead. I was wondering if you would maybe want to go for a walk with me. Or something. Down to the lake or somewhere. Or, you know, we could do something else instead, if you would rather. I just…" he paused to blush, "I just wanted to see you."
"Okay," Draco breathed, unsure how to respond to such an admission. Potter really wanted to see him? He had really tracked Draco down and ignored his friend's advice in the process? "A walk is fine. I, er, love walks. I walk all the time. And the lake. I love the lake. I love…water. We should go to the water. We should definitely go to where the water is." Draco clamped his lips shut as he found himself unable to stop the ridiculous babbling from spilling out. Fuck, what was wrong with him?
"Okay," Potter nodded happily. "Water and walks then. Did you want to drop your books off first?" He gestured to the heavy bag slung over Draco's shoulder.
"Oh, right," Draco said in surprise, glancing down at the bag he had all but forgotten about. Looking up, he slanted Potter a sly glance. "Although, I'm not sure if you should accompany me. What if this whole thing is some twisted plot just to find out where the Slytherin common room is located?"
Potter rolled his eyes. "Oh please, I've known where it is since second year," he scoffed.
"What?" Draco demanded, feeling confused. "How the hell did you find out?"
Potter blushed unexpectedly, raking a hand through his hair. "Er, well, I was actually led there by a Slytherin. But the person who showed me didn't actually know they were showing me. It's sort of complicated."
"Well, you'll have to tell me the whole story sometime," Draco said, starting down the corridor once more and smiling inwardly as Potter fell into step beside him. "I want to know what moronic Slytherin was daft enough to show someone from another House where the common room was without even realizing it."
"Er, yeah, okay," the brunet mumbled, sounding uncomfortable. The sound of his discomfort only served to heighten Draco's curiosity.
The trip down to the dungeons was made in silence. Draco made the brunet wait outside for him to run in and drop off his books, emerging with a grin. "Lead the way, then, Potter," he gestured, swinging his arms as Potter smiled back and began to lead them back up the staircase.
As they exited the castle and began to follow a well-worn path in the grass, Draco glanced over. "So, how do you like the new clothes then?" Potter had removed his outer robes and was wearing pale blue jeans that looked worn but Draco knew to be brand-new, as well as a plain black t-shirt that Draco had insisted the other boy buy, matching his dark hair perfectly and fitting snugly across his chest, making his lean muscled arms look impressive and toned.
Fuck, Harry Potter is hot, Draco thought in surprise, a warm rush of shock sweeping through him at both the sudden realization and the unexpected pride at the thought that someone as fit as Potter was walking beside Draco, wanting to know him better and possibly even schedule more future dates.
"Oh, they're good," Potter blushed, glancing down at himself. "I mean, I'm really not used to wearing Muggle clothes that actually fit, so it's a bit different for me, but I do like them. Thanks for helping me pick them out," he finished shyly, knocking elbows with Draco and earning a smile.
"Sure, Potter," he said softly, suddenly feeling far too aware of the ridiculous way his arms swung when he walked. He tried to hold himself still but felt even more ridiculous for the sudden stiffness in his joints. Lord, how had he forgotten how to walk like a normal person? Were his steps too big? His pace too slow? Did he walk with his feet too far apart? Should he put his hands in his pockets to keep his arms still or would that just make him look like a twat?
Christ, when did walking become so damned difficult?
"I really did have a good time on Saturday," Potter continued, his words only further contributing to Draco's panic. "We should definitely do it again sometime."
"What, journey to the Muggle world? Go clothes shopping? Kiss in front of a million witnesses?" The second the final question passed Draco's lips, he wanted to smack himself in the head. Why had he said that? He hadn't meant to say that!
Potter grinned. "Definitely yes to the last one."
"You don't find that preferable to do in private?" Draco wondered, wanting to smack himself in the head again as Potter laughed.
"Hey, I won't say no to either," Potter grinned, slowing before reaching out to pull Draco to a stop. "And look at that," he said, cheeks red as he glanced around them, "no witnesses in sight. Seems like a pretty private spot to me."
"What if someone sees us?" Draco tilted his head as he considered the brunet. Was Potter really saying that he wanted to kiss Draco? It was one thing to kiss the blond out in public in the Muggle world, where nobody would recognize either of them, but it was an entirely different thing to kiss him where any Hogwarts student could come across them. Was Potter really saying that he had no problems with people knowing about the two of them? Draco had been expecting him to be at least a little ashamed of being seen with Draco. Just how strong were Potter's feelings for him?
"What if someone does? I don't care," Potter shrugged. "I've never cared what other people thought, and if they care that I like kissing blokes, then that's their problem, not mine."
"That's not exactly what I meant," Draco mumbled, looking away from the other boy. Had Potter seriously not considered the ramifications of being seen in public with Draco? Did he not understand how hated and shunned by society the blond was? Did Potter not understand anything? Draco had thought that, out of everybody in the entire world, it had been Pansy who knew the least, but Draco was now convinced he was standing with the real winner of over-all global ignorance.
"What did you mean then?" Potter wondered, shifting closer in an attempt to get Draco to look at him.
"Well, I meant…" Draco took a deep breath, "it won't be just any bloke they'd see you kissing, Potter. It would be me. And the Muggles don't care, but the same most certainly cannot be said of the world we actually live in."
"What, you think I'm embarrassed to be seen with you?" Potter frowned, this time stepping directly in front of Draco, trying to force the blond to look him in the eye. Draco compromised by looking at Potter's chest and shrugging. "Draco, I don't care about that."
The use of Draco's first name finally succeeded in snapping Draco's attention up to meet Potter's earnest gaze. "You don't?" he croaked, wondering why his voice was so scratchy and his eyes were so hot. Must be stupid allergies, he decided, before remembering that he didn't actually have allergies. Stupid spontaneous allergies, he nodded firmly to himself.
"Of course not," Potter smiled gently. "I meant it when I said that I don't care what people think about me. So unless you have a problem being seen in public with me, then…I don't really see the point in hiding this."
Draco stared at him. How could Potter not—what was he saying? "So…" he began hoarsely, struggling to understand, "so you're saying…what are you saying?"
"I'm saying…" Potter fidgeted for several moments while Draco struggled not to faint from how hard his heart was pounding, "I'm saying that I—I don't want this," he gestured between the two of them, "to be some casual, secret thing. I want to keep seeing you and I don't want to have to sneak around to do it."
"Oh," Draco breathed, unsure how to respond. He wasn't even sure how he was feeling. Did Potter really mean that? Did he really want to keep seeing Draco? Did he really want to publicly date Draco? Was he really not embarrassed or ashamed or disgusted or anything at the thought of people seeing the two of them together? "Right."
"But only if you want to!" Potter hurried to say. "I would never just tell people we're together without your permission. I mean, I'm not saying that this is an all-or-nothing type of situation. We don't have to jump straight into a serious relationship, I just…I just want to keep seeing you."
"Oh," Draco repeated, feeling light-headed.
"Please say something," Potter pleaded. "Actual words other than just 'oh'. Is any of that what you want too or should I just stop embarrassing myself now by saying things you don't want to hear?"
"No, I…" Draco still felt like he was in shock. "I…I'm just…" He couldn't seem to get any real words out, no matter how sincerely Potter asked for them. "I just…Potter…" Well, fuck it. If Draco couldn't respond with words, then he wouldn't respond with words. Words were stupid anyway.
Stepping forward, he reached up to bury both hands in Potter's thick hair and tug him forward into a kiss, sighing when Potter did not hesitate to return it. The brunet hummed as he wrapped both arms around Draco's torso and clenched his fists tightly in the fabric covering Draco's back, pulling him up against the other boy's body as Potter deepened the kiss. It was just as dizzying and intense as their first kiss, and Draco felt his knees buckle as it continued.
God, he had never kissed anybody in such a potentially public place before. Absolutely anybody could come across them and the thought only served to heighten Draco's pleasure of the situation. Lord, who knew he could ever be such an exhibitionist? Potter had already taught him so many things about himself that he had never known, and Draco was excited to find out what else he could learn about himself in the brunet's company.
An odd surge of affection had Draco pulling away far enough to mumble, "Harry," against Potter's lips, and at the sound of his name, Potter groaned deep in his throat and kissed Draco even harder. "Harry," he repeated into Potter's mouth, and the other boy pulled back with a low moan.
"God, Draco," he panted, refusing to loosen his hold on the blond. "Fuck, you've never called me that before. I don't know if it'll ever not be hot to hear my name from you, which is sort of really weird when you think about it. I never thought I could be turned on by the sound of my own name."
"It is a bit weird," Draco smiled, "but I promise not to tell anyone else how odd and kinky you are."
"Oh, you have no idea, Draco Malfoy," Potter murmured, kissing him again.
"Good thing I plan on finding out then, huh?" Draco whispered, clutching at Potter's hair even tighter. Merlin, where had he learned how to flirt so convincingly? Draco had always thought of himself as socially awkward in one-on-one situations, but he appeared to have somehow been harboring a secret mastery in superior flirting skills that he had not even known he possessed. Huh. He always knew he was talented in ways he wasn't even aware of.
"Fuck," Potter gasped, yanking Draco even closer against him. "I still can't believe any of this is happening. This can't be real, it just can't."
"But it can," Draco smiled.
"No, it can't," Potter insisted, and Draco's smile widened.
"Oh, Potter," he said softly, releasing Potter's hair with one hand and trailing his fingers down to stroke Potter's chest, "I'm going to have such fun proving you wrong."
At the statement, Potter made a weird sound, a sort of groaning laugh, and Draco smiled again. "So," Potter panted, pulling back far enough to speak, "can I tell Hermione and Ron then? That we're dating?"
"Tell anyone you like," Draco said, pleased at the thought of Potter telling the world that he belonged to Draco; he definitely liked the sound of those words.
"Everyone, then," Potter agreed. "I'd like to tell everyone."
Draco grinned. "You know, a fifteen-year-old me would have made some joke about you being a press whore and an attention-seeking prat, but the eighteen-year-old me just wants to kiss you again."
"I like the eighteen-year-old you better," Potter chuckled, stealing Draco's response away with a kiss.
So do I, Draco thought, wrapping himself more fully around the boy in his arms as they continued to share kisses by the side of the rippling lake.
"So you were eight when you got your first broom?" Potter asked, the two of them lounging by the lakeside on a blanket Potter had transfigured from his school tie.
"My first real broom," Draco corrected, leaning his shoulder more heavily into Potter's. "I'd had children's brooms before that but those only hovered, really. My father had charmed my real grown-up broomstick though so it couldn't fly higher than two meters, which I always thought was absolute shit. I threw a few legendary tantrums about that one," he grinned, shaking his head at the memory of his screaming about not being able to fly all the way to the bloody moon if he wanted to. "But my father decided my safety was worth putting up with all the tears." As soon as the words left his mouth he froze, wondering if he shouldn't have mentioned his father, but Potter only chuckled and slung his arm around Draco's shoulders to pull him up against the side of his chest.
"You poor thing," he said fondly, and Draco could hear the smile in every one of his words.
"Right?" Draco agreed in a sad voice, turning to give Potter his best pout. Potter responded with a laugh and leaned forward to steal the pout away with a kiss, one that Draco turned more fully into so he could deepen it. He could hear the sound of the lake slapping against hard rocks, the cawing of birds overhead, the rustling of wind through the long grass they were sat in, but the more he kissed Harry, the more the rest of the world seemed to melt away until it had faded into nothing but indistinguishable background noise, a low buzzing hum that Draco could not focus on even if he wanted to—not while Harry was kissing him, at least. He could feel the sun on his skin, the breeze as it swept past him, the hard ground beneath him, but all those feelings paled in comparison to the feel of Potter's lips on his, his hands on Draco's skin, his dark hair tickling Draco's face.
There was nothing in the world at that moment but Harry Potter, and Draco was strangely okay at the thought of it. The blond had been forced to accept a long time ago that the vast majority of his world would always be taken up by Harry Potter; this was nothing new and yet so much better. There were fingers in Draco's hair, a hand on his chest, a tongue in his mouth, and without even being aware of Potter gently pushing him, Draco found himself flat on his back with Harry looming over him, smiling down at the blond trapped beneath him.
"God, you are so fucking gorgeous, Draco," Harry murmured, eyes searching Draco's face before they slid shut and the brunet was kissing him once again.
"Glad you finally noticed," Draco mumbled into the other boy's mouth, running one hand up Potter's back to clutch at his shoulder while the other gripped a fistful of his shirt tightly.
Harry chuckled into the kiss, sending tingling vibrations through Draco's lips. "You act like I haven't noticed 'til now. Trust me, Draco, I've fucking noticed."
"I could tell by all the stalking," Draco grinned, and felt Potter's mouth pull into a reluctant smile. "You're really not as subtle as you think you are, by the way. Your sneakiness definitely needs work."
"Hey, I can be sneaky when I want to be," the brunet complained, spreading light kisses along Draco's jaw. "I just don't always choose to be. There's a difference."
"Whatever you need to tell yourself, Potter," Draco smirked, breath catching as the other boy moved lower to trail his nose and lips across the sensitive skin of Draco's throat, earning a shiver from the blond.
"Why are you still talking?" the other boy grumbled, capturing Draco's mouth in a deep kiss just as one hand began to stroke his chest. Draco hummed and pulled Potter closer, loving the feel of Potter's heavy weight atop him, making him feel warm and wanted and safe. He made Draco feel alive, he made him feel relaxed, he made him feel content—he made Draco feel, in a way that Draco had not even been aware he had not felt.
But the content relaxed feeling vanished as Potter began to trail his hand down Draco's stomach, traveling lower, and Draco's eyes flew open as he reached out to snatch at Potter's wrist. "What the hell are you doing?" he demanded, panic in his words. Kissing was one thing, kissing was fine, but Draco was definitely not ready for whatever it was that Potter had been about to do!
"Kissing you?" Potter asked in an innocent voice, tilting his head in a stupidly adorable way that Draco absolutely refused to admit he found cute. Potter was not being cute at the moment, he was being crass! Crass, Draco, not cute! the blond reminded himself, repeating it twice more for good measure and then once more for luck.
"Potter, we're outside," Draco said weakly, fighting his way free from beneath the brunet to sit up and attempt to straighten his clothing. How had it gotten so twisted? "Anybody could see us! For Christ's sake!"
Potter stared at him in growing amusement. "Draco," he began slowly, lips twitching despite the caution in his voice, "are you a virgin?"
"What?" Draco gasped, gaze sharpening into a glare. "What the fuck, what does that have to do with anything?"
Potter's grin grew wider. "You totally are!"
Draco felt himself blush even as he glared harder. "Shut up, Potter! Christ, I knew you would ruin this somehow by being a git. I'm going back inside now, you can stay out here and have fun being a sad lonely pervert wanking in public by yourself."
"No, don't be angry!" Potter snatched at his wrist, still grinning. "It's nothing to be embarrassed about, Draco, I was just surprised is all!"
"Why?" Draco struggled to pull his arm free. "Because I look like such a slag? Or because I look like someone who has absolutely no code of personal ethics or self-control?"
"What?" Potter dropped his wrist in surprise. "No, of course not! I'm just surprised because, well, I mean, look at you!" He gestured to Draco with the hand he been holding Draco's wrist prisoner in.
Draco rolled his eyes even as he shifted further away. "I'm not some delicate untouched flower, Potter. Just because I'm not okay with people wanking me off in public or whatever you had been about to do, doesn't make me some weird prude or some overly-pure image of absolute chastity."
"We're not in public," Potter pointed out, and Draco felt his head begin to ache from how hard he was glaring at the stupid idiot. "Okay, fine," Potter relented, holding both hands up palm out. "No public wanking, got it."
Draco rolled his eyes. "Well, as much fun as this conversation has been, I think I should go back to the castle now. I need Blaise to check over one of my essays for me. I'll see you later, Potter." And without waiting for a response, Draco jumped to his feet and began striding quickly back to the castle, trying not to panic. Oh god, though, Pansy had been right! She had been far too right about Potter—despite his sweetness and Gryffindor romanticism, he was just another typical boy wanting nothing more than to get off.
Stupid Pansy, being right about things, Draco thought venomously, stomping his way up the gently sloping hill. And stupid perverted Potter for unknowingly making Pansy be right about things by being a dirty public-wanking pervert. Had it really been that obvious that Draco was a virgin? Had his inexperience really been that bloody obvious?
Well, so much for Blaise's stupid plan, because now Draco would never be able to look Potter in the eye ever again. And right when Draco was finally starting to be able to admit to himself that he maybe didn't totally fully completely dislike Potter after all anymore. Possibly. Sometimes. When the git wasn't talking, at least.
"Hey," a breathless voice said, right before a hand reached out to close around Draco's upper arm and attempt to tug him to a stop.
Still feeling embarrassed enough to be angry, Draco jerked his arm away and ignored the brunet, hoping that Potter could not see how red Draco's cheeks were. Merlin though, why was Potter able to turn Draco into such an insecure pile of humiliated rage so quickly? Why was he the only one capable of making him feel like that, with nothing more than a handful of words and a few sly looks?
Well, Draco was done with it. He hated it and he was done with it and he did not want to stick around just so that Potter could continue making fun of him. He had been making fun of him, hadn't he? Draco wasn't actually entirely sure, but it didn't matter, because he had certainly felt made fun of, and he did. Not. Like it.
"Draco, wait, please!" Potter's voice sounded pleading and contrite, but Draco still did not want to turn around. God, why was embarrassment the hardest emotion to deal with? Draco wasn't even certain why he was so embarrassed in the first place. All he knew was that he wanted nothing more than to get the hell out of there and Potter seemed to want nothing more than to hinder every attempt he made at escape. Stupid Gryffindor; did he really not see that oftentimes escape was the best option to take?
"Draco!" Suddenly, Potter was standing right in front of him, startling the blond, who took an automatic step back. "God, I forgot how dramatic you are," the brunet panted, sounding winded. Good.
"That's me," Draco's eyes narrowed as he crossed his arms over his chest. "The virginal drama queen. Did you catch up to me just to insult me? Because I would really rather prefer to be a dramatic virgin elsewhere at the moment, actually. And you can stay here and be a…" he struggled with words for a moment, "an undramatic non-virgin. I hope it's fun for you. Goodbye, Potter." And with that—admittedly dramatic—outburst, Draco prepared to stalk away in the least dramatic way he was able to, but before he could, he found himself enveloped in a warm embrace. Potter's arms were suddenly wrapped around him, the other boy smelling clean like pine trees and wind as he hugged Draco tightly to himself.
"God, you are definitely not boring," Potter chuckled, squeezing him tighter. "I didn't mean to insult you, Draco, I really didn't. And I definitely didn't mean to embarrass you."
"Who said I was either?" Draco muttered, arms itching to return the embrace but remaining locked firmly at his sides.
"Don't be mad at me," Potter said quietly, pulling back far enough to look Draco in the eye. "We were having a good time and I'm sorry for ruining it. I really was just surprised."
"Yes, well, sorry if not all of us get a hundred different people throwing themselves at us every single day," Draco grumbled, feeling himself unwillingly soften at Potter's stupidly genuine and very-much unwanted sincerity.
"Oh please, I don't get that many people throwing themselves at me," Potter sighed, sounding exasperated. "And I definitely don't take any of them up on it! I've technically only ever been with Ginny! Once!"
Draco's eyes narrowed. "You were with her for how long? And the two of you only shagged once?"
"Well, one and a half times," Potter smiled. "Maybe one and like…three-quarters times. But she was Ron's little sister and even though I really did like her, or at least I thought I did, I was never comfortable with the idea of us being together like that. It only took the one time for me to realize the real reason why though."
"And that would be…?"
Potter shook his head in amusement. "Have you not noticed that I'm just a bit bent, Malfoy? It only took one time with Ginny for me to start really realizing that. That's the real reason we never ended up getting back together after the war. And then I did some stuff with Fleur's cousin Baptiste when he was up here with her family visiting over the summer and I ended up finding out a few new things about myself that I hadn't been aware of. So…I'd say I'm pretty fully bent, really." He grinned at Draco, but Draco could only frown.
"Baptiste?" he scoffed, feeling an emotion hotter than the earlier embarrassment sweep through him at the mention of the stupid boy and his stupid name and his stupid sexual experience and his stupid…French-ness, and it was an emotion that Draco refused to put a name to.
"Yeah," Potter smiled. "He was nice. Looked a lot like you, actually. Only he had blue eyes, not grey. And his hair wasn't as soft. And he wasn't as dramatic."
Draco scoffed again. "I still can't tell if you're actively trying to insult me or just saying untrue things."
Potter raised one eyebrow. "Are you telling me your hair isn't soft, then?"
A reluctant smile spread across Draco's face at the daft git. "Not what I meant, Potter."
"Call me Harry again," the brunet whispered, leaning forward to press his forehead against Draco's, who finally allowed his arms to reach up enough to clutch at Potter's shirt.
"Only when you deserve it," Draco said quietly.
"Hmm, I'll just have to see what I can do to deserve it then," Potter breathed, right before capturing Draco's mouth in a deep kiss, and Draco was unable to resist kissing him back.
He wanted to respond with something witty and hilarious, but his mouth was occupied and his mind a complete blank. He would simply have to content himself with knowing that had he been able to respond, his response would undoubtedly have been the wittiest, most hilarious thing Potter had ever heard—which wouldn't be too difficult a feat to achieve, considering the company the brunet kept.
"I really like you, Draco," Potter murmured, stealing kisses between words. "Don't be mad at me."
"God, you're a prat," Draco murmured back, stealing kisses of his own. "Don't stop kissing me."
He felt Potter smile into the kiss. "Done."
"So what did he want?" Pansy asked with a smirk, gathering her notes together and shoving everything into her bag. "You weren't at lunch, and you barely made it to class on time. Whatever could you and Potter have been doing?"
"None of your business," Draco sniffed, feeling himself blush but hoping that he could make it go away by simply ignoring it.
"Of course it's our business," Blaise said, sounding amused. "As your closest friends, everything you do is our business. Don't shut us out, Draco. Not when we love you this much." The words were accompanied by a sad expression, one that Draco could not help but roll his eyes at.
"I can see you trying not to smile, Blaise, for fuck's sake."
"That's because you're looking when you should be talking," Blaise pointed out, and Draco couldn't help but roll his eyes again at the ridiculously stupid statement.
"I'm talented enough to do both at the same time, actually, despite how difficult it can apparently be for some people. And I don't have to talk to you about anything," Draco reminded them hotly. Just because they were the only two people in the world who tolerated his company did not mean that Draco had to spill his guts to them about every single little thing in his life. It just meant that he needed to work on his tolerability.
"Did you fuck him?" Pansy's smirk had widened, and Draco wanted to curse the expression off her dumb face. "Or did he fuck you? I can't really imagine Potter letting himself get fucked."
"Nobody fucked anybody!" the blond hissed, glancing around the three of them as they exited the classroom and began to make their way to the library. "For Christ's sake, Pans, I already told you that not everybody is as big a slag as you!"
"I think you mean as free-spirited and unencumbered by the opinions of others," she said, eyes narrowed. "It's not my fault that you're such a fucking prude, you know."
"I'm not a prude!" Draco snapped, uncomfortably reminded of his earlier conversation with Potter about the blond's virginity. Was he really the oldest virgin left in the whole school? Why did he go to school with so many goddamn slags? "Just because I'm not willing to suck off every bloke who even remotely glances my direction in the hopes of gaining his attention doesn't mean I'm a prude!"
Pansy's mouth tightened and she glared at Draco before turning away. Blaise glared at him as well, reaching out one hand to smack Draco on the arm.
"I'm sorry, Pansy, that was mean," Draco apologized, feeling guilt swirl through him.
"It's fine," she said stiffly, and Draco decided to take a page from Potter's book, stepping in front of her and forcing her to a halt.
"I'm sorry, Pansy, really. You're beautiful and wonderful and any man would be lucky to have you," he said softly, praying her tantrum would not last as long as they normally did. He was well aware that nobody on the planet enjoyed throwing a strop more than Pansy-temperamental-Parkinson. Merlin, and Potter thought Draco could be dramatic…
"Yes, they would," she agreed, slapping Draco sharply on the arm in the same spot that Blaise had hit him in. "That's for being an impolite twat, you twat." She slapped him again. "And that's for insulting only one of two people in the entire world willing to be seen with you in public."
"Not anymore," Draco grinned ruefully, rubbing his upper arm. "Potter says he's more than willing to be seen with me in public. He told me that he doesn't want us to be some casual, secret thing. That boy could not be any more in love with me if he were to try."
"Seriously?" Blaise asked, sounding insultingly dumbstruck. "He's really willing to be seen in public with you, as your boyfriend?"
"Why do you sound so fucking surprised?" Draco huffed. "This was your stupid plan in the first place."
"Well, yeah," Blaise shrugged, "but I didn't actually think it would work. I didn't actually think he would be so willing or so comfortable being seen in public with you."
Draco glared. "Ta ever so, you twat-faced cunt."
"A twat-faced cunt?" Blaise repeated, sounding amused.
Damn it, he was supposed to sound offended and insulted, not amused! Stupid prat can't even be insulted when he's meant to be, Draco thought irritably.
"Yes, Draco," Pansy piped up, and Draco turned his glare on her at the sound of amusement in her voice. "What exactly does a twat-faced cunt look like?"
"Would you like me to a fetch a mirror?" he drawled. "Because there are two standing right in front of me."
"Two mirrors or two cunts with twatty faces?" Blaise wondered, grinning widely.
"Stop smiling, I was insulting you!" Draco told him in a sharp voice. "Just fucking be insulted when you're meant to be!"
They both laughed.
"Sure, Draco, we're both very, very insulted," Blaise cooed patronizingly, patting Draco on the head. "Right, Pansy?"
"The most insulted we've ever been," she nodded in a similar tone.
"God, sometimes I hate the two of you," Draco grumbled, striding past them and continuing on alone.
"No you don't," Blaise said cheerfully as they fell into step on either side of him. "You could never stop loving us and you know it."
"I don't know any such thing," Draco insisted with a glare, crossing his arms as they entered the library. The other two laughed but said nothing as they headed to their usual empty table in the very back of the large room and began pulling parchments and notes from their bags.
"I'll be back in a minute," Draco said, removing his outer robes and slinging them over the back of his chair. "I need to go find that book on ancient runes that Professor Babbling was talking about today."
"All right, twat-face," Blaise said brightly, pulling out a small pot of ink and his ridiculously large, flashy, and almost laughably expensive quill—and what was he trying to compensate for with that, Draco wondered wryly.
"Arseholes, the pair of you," he decided, narrowing his eyes at the both of them.
"Wait, I'm confused," Pansy smirked, "are we arseholes or twatty cunts?"
At the question, Blaise laughed loudly, earning several curious glances from the students around them.
"You're both, congratulations," Draco told her with an eye roll. "I hope it makes you feel special."
"Wow, we sound talented, Pansy, don't we?" Blaise turned to her to share another annoying smirk.
"Right, I'm leaving now," Draco declared. "You two can keep being knobs."
"How often do you think about genitals, Draco?" Blaise chuckled. "First we're twatty cunts, then we're arseholes, now we're knobs? I think we all know what's on your mind, don't we? Are we going to be tits next?"
Face burning, Draco turned away without another word and marched off into the maze of bookshelves, praying he would find better friends in the stacks, friends who knew how to bloody well be insulted when he wanted them to be.
Scanning the shelves, he jumped when a hand suddenly settled on his upper back. Whipping around, he inhaled sharply at the sight of Potter standing directly behind him, smiling.
"Hey," the brunet said, standing far closer than Draco could have believed possible without the blond becoming aware of his presence. Okay, maybe he really can be sneaky when he wants to be.
"Potter," Draco said in confusion, glancing around the two of them. "What are you doing here? Did you follow me here again?" Why was Potter the only person Draco had ever known who somehow equated stalking with love?
"No," Potter chuckled. "I was here first. So if anyone followed anyone, you followed me."
"I can hardly follow you if I didn't even know you were here."
"True, I s'pose," the brunet grinned. "I'm here with Ron and Hermione and I saw the three of you come in."
"Ah," was all Draco said. Lord, he hoped that Potter had not heard their conversation about genitals.
"You can come sit with us, if you want," Potter said hopefully, leaning even further into Draco's space. "Or I can sit with you, if you'd rather. Although, I'm not sure if Parkinson won't try to stab me with a quill or sic another dark wizard on me again or something."
"Not sure I can promise that either," Draco said with a smile. "The girl has always been a bit unpredictable."
"Come sit at my table then," the other boy urged, reaching down to grasp one of Draco's hands between both of his own and raise it to his chest.
"I'm not sure Weasley won't try to strangle me with a shoelace or hex my balls off under the table," Draco pointed out, feeling light-headed from Potter's proximity. Lord, how was he always able to make Draco feel so dizzy just by looking at him in a certain way? Was Draco coming down with something? Was this another side effect of those spontaneous allergies that he decided he most definitely had? Draco didn't need a Healer to diagnose him—he was more than capable of properly diagnosing himself. And dizziness brought on by spontaneous allergies was certainly more believable than dizziness being brought on by Harry Potter.
Right?
Potter laughed. "Not sure I can promise that he won't do that in private, but definitely not in front of Hermione."
Draco rolled his eyes. "What a comfort, Potter, thank you for assuaging my concerns for my personal well-being."
Potter laughed again. "Christ, who the hell uses words like 'assuage'?"
"Educated people," Draco sniffed.
"Pretentious people, I think you mean," the brunet grinned, leaning forward to press a light kiss to Draco's jaw.
"You seem to be taking a lot of liberties with the kissing," Draco said in a trembling voice.
"Because you don't seem to be objecting," Potter murmured with another light kiss. "And because I've wanted to for so fucking long that I honestly can't help myself now that I've finally got the chance. I never thought I would ever be able to do something like this." His teeth grazed over the skin of Draco's earlobe, earning a shiver.
"Did you tell your sidekicks then?" Draco wondered, trying to fight the urge to yank Potter up against him. "About the two of us?"
"Yes," Potter breathed hotly over his neck and Draco felt himself break out in gooseflesh. "Did you tell your friends about us?"
"I didn't need to," Draco chuckled. "You haven't exactly been subtle about it, you know."
"Subtlety is for Slytherins," Potter quipped, kissing Draco's chin. "I was put in Gryffindor for a reason."
"Lack of subtlety and bad hair?" Draco guessed, feeling breathless as Potter trailed a line of kisses along his jaw.
"I've heard from a reliable source that the color is pretty," Potter reminded him, and Draco blushed.
"Potter, we're in the library," he groaned, clutching at the other boy's shoulders as he stepped even closer into Draco's body, trapped between Potter and a bookshelf. "Anyone could walk past."
"So go back to your table," Potter hummed. "I'm not stopping you." His words were accompanied by a deep kiss and Draco wanted to huff, because honestly, how was this not stopping him? But Potter's hands were running over his chest and up his neck to tangle in his hair and the desire to huff was quickly forgotten.
"Harry, what are you—GAH!"
The kiss was broken as Potter's head automatically whipped around, Draco leaning over to peer past him and nearly feeling his heart stop dead at the sight of a horrified-looking Weasley staring at them with his mouth open.
"I came to see where you'd gone," the redhead said weakly, pressing the heel of one hand to his heart. "Urgh, nevermind though, I'll just go back to the table and be traumatized over there. God, I miss the days when I would've walked in on the two of you punching each other instead of...whatever the hell that just was," he muttered with a gesture, eyes fixed on the floor. "God, watching you snog my little sister was bad enough, but now the fucking Ferret? Are you actively trying to date the people I least approve of in the entire bloody world?"
"Nobody asked you to be here, Weasley," Draco snapped, feeling irrationally stung at the reminder that not a single person in the country would approve of him as worthy enough to date Potter, along with a strong surge of annoyance at being compared to the fucking Weasley bint. Draco was clearly nothing like her. He had nice hair and intelligence and overflowing bank vaults, and she had none of those things. "You're the one who interrupted us, stop acting like we tricked you into coming over here!"
"Oh, shut up, you ponce," Weasley shot back, "I'm already struggling not to have heart failure, I don't need the sound of your whiny voice adding to it, okay?"
"I'll see you back at the table, Ron," Potter said loudly, just as Draco began opening his mouth to say something scathing. He wasn't quite sure what it was that he had been about to say, but he was certain that whatever it was would undoubtedly have wounded Weasley beyond any amount of healing. The stupid prat would most likely have been flayed alive by the force of Draco's eloquent insults. His insults had definitely been known to hospitalize deserving recipients in the past.
"Your friends are wankers," Draco decided as Weasley stalked off, muttering to himself in a way that made Draco wonder just how mentally stable the git really was. Only mental people talked to themselves in such a manner, after all. Draco had recently become an expert in self-diagnosis and was therefore able to correctly diagnose Weasley with a clinical case of Extreme Unhinged Wankery; Draco hoped it was terminal. Crossing his arms with a huff, Draco took a step away from Potter.
"Yeah," Potter sighed. "Maybe it's not the best idea for you to come sit with me after all."
"Good, fine then," Draco said in agreement, feeling pinpricks of hurt at the realization that Potter either did not want him around his friends or did not trust him around his friends. It wasn't Draco's fault the boy's friends were stupid wanking ugly loud-mouthed weasels! All right, perhaps it's comments like that that are the reason he doesn't want me around them, Draco allowed. "I'll see you around then." He stepped around Potter, preparing to march back to the table he was sat at with Pansy and Blaise, but before he could, he was stopped by a hand on his wrist, swinging him back around to face the dark-haired boy.
"That's not a good enough goodbye, Malfoy," Potter murmured, a moment before tugging sharply and pulling Draco close enough to plant a searing kiss to his mouth, one Draco could not help but sink into with a shaky moan, a sound that surprised him but only made Potter kiss him even more fiercely.
After entire minutes—or possibly even lifetimes, but who was keeping track?—had passed, Potter finally pulled back. "That is how you say goodbye," he said in a soft voice.
"Is that how you say goodbye to everyone?" Draco whispered, struggling to catch his breath. Merlin's ghost but Potter could kiss.
"No," Potter smiled. "I save that sort of goodbye for you."
"You better not be saving it for anyone else," the blond warned, returning the smile.
At the comment, Potter's breath caught. "Does that mean…" Draco could practically feel the other boy's blush from where he was standing, "does that mean that…you and I…does that mean w-we're exclusive?" The last word was said so quietly that Draco almost couldn't hear it.
Draco felt a similar blush spread through his cheeks and kissed Potter in an attempt to distract him from Draco's sudden embarrassment. "I don't share, Potter," he said in a low voice. "I would have thought you'd know this about me by now."
"I'm fine not being shared," Potter said, still smiling. "But only as long as you're not being shared either."
As if anybody else wants me, Draco thought, sighing internally. It was hardly the same thing—everybody wanted Potter, everybody was dying to get a piece of him. The only thing everybody was dying to do in regards to Draco was to get as far away from him as possible. "Deal," Draco said, stealing another kiss. "We only share ourselves with each other."
It was official—the plan had worked. Blaise's mad plan had actually worked, and Draco was surprised at how little effort the whole seduction bollocks had actually taken. Either Potter was extremely easy or Draco was extremely talented.
"Okay," Potter breathed. "Yes. That—that sounds good. I like that. Okay, definitely, let's definitely do that."
Draco chuckled. "I should go back to my table now before Pansy comes looking for me. The nosy bint is probably already on her way."
"Right, okay," the brunet nodded, his words undermined by yet another kiss.
"Harry, stop," Draco whined, undermining his own words by clutching Potter even tighter to himself.
Potter growled as he kissed Draco again. "Christ, Draco, you can't kiss me like that and call me by my first name and tell me you want us to be exclusive and then expect me to just walk away."
"Turned on by your own name, you really are a kinky sod," Draco grinned, panting.
"Only for you," Potter vowed, gripping Draco's hips so tightly the blond was sure he would have bruises, possibly even internal damage, considering Potter's surprising strength, but complaining was the furthest thing from his mind. It was surprising how good the risk of internal damage actually felt—Draco found himself wishing that Potter might even clutch him a bit tighter.
"Oh!" a sudden voice squeaked somewhere to their left, and both boys looked over to see a Slytherin third-year watching them with wide eyes. "Um, sorry," she stammered, clutching a large book to her chest as she began to stumble backwards. "Um…" And casting one final glance at the two of them, she turned and fled.
"Well now you've done it, Potter," Draco said sourly, stepping away from the brunet. "Now the whole school is sure to know by dinnertime."
"Is that a bad thing?" Potter tilted his head as he considered Draco with a serious look.
"I'm talking about for you, Potter," Draco sighed, rubbing his temples. "I'm talking about the ramifications for you, for Merlin's fucking sake."
"I don't care what anyone thinks," the other boy said softly, closing the distance between them until he was standing even closer to Draco than before. "Anyone who has a problem with it isn't worth knowing. I'm not ashamed of you, Draco, or embarrassed to be seen with you. So stop worrying already."
Draco said nothing; he wasn't even sure why he was so worried or hesitant in the first place. The whole point of Blaise's stupid plan was for Potter to publicly acknowledge their so-called relationship, so why was Draco suddenly so scared? Why was he arguing? Why was he longing to confess the entire stupid plan to Potter and then plead for mercy? Not that Malfoys ever pled for anything, of course, especially from someone such as Harry Potter.
"It'll be fine," Potter whispered, wrapping Draco in a tight hug that made him somehow feel both terrified and safe at the same time. "You'll see, Draco. It'll be fine."
And lord, how Draco longed to believe him.
That night at dinner, several Slytherins and more than one Ravenclaw glanced in Draco's direction curiously, but there were no shocked gasps, no judgmental glares, no hissed threats. Even the suspicious looks he had grown used to receiving did not appear to be more than usual. Draco was finally able to release the breath he had been holding since the second they had been spotted in the library. For the moment, it didn't seem as though it had yet gotten around the school.
Maybe everything really would be fine, after all.
A/N: And now there's just no slowing things down between them :) I hope everyone is prepared for some of that adult content you were warned about at the start because that is coming your way next chapter!