lavender grey, dark undereye shadow, Leon - Alt-J

At his flat, Malfoy opened a bottle of wine passed it around communally. Ava and Lee flit around like birds, upturning stacks of books and rummaging around like a dance. They sampled every single one of his bottles in a line, and tipped over the balcony, voices echoing down the street.

Malfoy drifted around like a pale shadow, against walls or tucked in corners, smiling vacantly and always something in his hand, dripping on the floor. And Harry was this soft, bleary thing, the everlasting smile making his cheeks ache. The flat felt yellow and full with people in it.

Lee teased and laughed, teaching Harry everything coffee, and fumbling with pots and mugs, powder and stains cascading around them while she giggled. Malfoy leaned on the counter and watched, amused, probably because Harry was doing everything wrong and when he looked up, caught the sly shake of his head.

Ava lay with her long long fawn hair fanned on the floor. "You can't be our friend Harry, sorry."

Lee resigned with a sudden tumble, everything falling to the bench from her hands. "I give up." She pat Harry on the arm, and went over and stood over Ava, leaning down so her fingertips tickled her face and they laughed.

"Prerequisite," said Malfoy quietly. He sunk his hands into dark powder, and smiled up at Harry. He drifted his coated hands over Harry's hands perched on the counter, painting them. "You've failed." Harry raised his eyebrows and smiled a little, and his pale hands now ran over his forearms, rough grains running against his skin, and drew small patterns.

"Thanks," said Harry, pulse quickening, watching his arm. "Pretty." The soft tracing fingers felt hypnotic, grinding slow against his skin.

The girls had fallen in a heap on the couch, head to tail and talked softly, while Malfoy ghosted around slowly, smoking. Harry could feel him, like a magnetic pulse, move around the place, in and out of his orbit. When he drifted closer, moved around or brushed against him, Harry felt this hum coat his skin and fill his ears, pulsing and loudening.

Lee led Ava by the hand to the balcony, where they curled up on the single couch and pointed at the sky with lazy arms. Harry felt himself grow more still, drawn in the sudden quiet of the room, the lone moving figure the only thing to disrupt the still peace. As well the chaos inside him, this overwhelming roll in his stomach that swarmed around and around him, pulse beating in his ears.

Malfoy strolled vacantly down the hallway, and Harry felt himself move off the bench unconsciously. Following, like a shadow. He was walking, body heavier and drunker than he felt, and mind drifting. Malfoy was turned away, head tilted to the roof and hand skimming the hallway wall as he walked. And Harry moved slow behind him. Pacing, to match his pace. The darkness of the hall slipped over them, swallowed them in tight borders.

He reached out a hand, tentative, and saw it barely skim Malfoy's loose hand at his side. Malfoy slowed his pace at his touch, splayed his hand against the wall, and stopped. His head dropped to the floor, and his body seemed to resign, breathing low. Harry's fingers traced up, to the hollows of his wrist and lightly probe the fragile skin, pulse darting dangerously over his skin. Before wrapping surely around it.

Malfoy was still, unmoving. Harry tugged him back lightly – but he whipped around, pulled free, and met Harry's eyes. A spark, suddenly brought to life, brought out of his haze. His eyes were stormy, hard in the dark. He grabbed Harry's shirt at his stomach, as if reflexively, and then loosened slightly, looking at his own hand. "You stayed away this week," he said, and he seemed mixed. A muddle of accusation or confusion or hurt, in the tiny darts under his composed face.

Harry swallowed, heart beating hard at the proximity. "I know." He moved his hand in the space between them, drew it tentatively against Malfoy's chest, and laid it flat.

"You were a mess," said Harry, and he swept over his stiff upper arms lightly, before curling around them to tug him closer, to enter his space, felt them tense against him. Malfoy's body felt very alive, close to him.

"Is that what you did this week?" he said quieter.

Malfoy's face twisted, his hard eyes flashed – burning anger and fear. They flickered down to his mouth. "Say it."

Harry looked carefully between his eyes. "Did you just fuck around," he said, slow. "Get drunk and fuck boys?"

Malfoy's eyes burned wicked, cruel and direct at him. Harry stiffened, leant back – but something broke in the grey. A quiver, like light, dampened them. Soft.

"I –" said Malfoy, lips parted, a sudden frailty in his face. "I didn't even know who he was." His voice faltered, quiet.

Harry swallowed, feeling a slow ache crawl through him. He grazed Malfoy's chin, wanting to draw him in, and tilted his head up slightly to see him.

Malfoy shook his head slightly, eyes stirring before meeting his. They didn't seem to see Harry at first, a thin cover like reflective glass. But as Harry's finger traced his jaw, the clouds cleared slightly. He watched Harry, almost timidly, eyes moving over his face intently. An iridescent light looked at him through confused mess of clouds. Timid, white and pure.

Harry's arms quivered as he drew over Malfoy's bottom lip with his thumb, settling in the corner, and ducked his head close, watching them and didn't look up. His breath trembled over Malfoy's lips, and his own met his tentative thumb, slid gently onto soft lips.

He felt softness, mouldable and yielding, and a quick tremble slid the groves of skin against him, and his heart jolted. Life and quiver, under soft web of skin. Barely a breath, ghosting over Malfoy's lips and he felt the light pressure leave.

Malfoy leaned heavily, sunk his head low into his shoulder. He shook slightly; his body sighed, grew lax. He had grabbed Harry's waist with firm arms, so Harry was pressed into the hard wall against his back, with Malfoy sagged and clung into him. Harry tilted his head as if to search his face, brushed back blonde hair softly, and didn't know what to think. Malfoy was shaking his head slightly, quivering with a light hum. He seemed contained, in his head or struggle, yet spilling softly into surrounds, into Harry, like a seeping willow. Harry clung on tight.

There was a still, tired moment. And Malfoy's face shifted slightly, moving against his neck and Harry could feel a quick flicker of breaths. Darting across him like gentle taps, stopping his own breathing. Harry felt pressure as the grip on him tightened, and he pressed soft lips against his neck lightly. Harry tensed, a glimmer of electric ticks stung him, halting him there. Malfoy's hands splayed on his hips tightly, slowly but then surely, strongly grasping him. He pressured him against the wall, and pressed against him, his body full and flat and his mouth skimmed along his skin. He felt a light kiss, like wings, and Harry's breath caught.

And the axis tipped – the mouth was hot on his neck, lips melted against his skin, and Harry gasped, drawing fingers through Malfoy's hair to hold him there. Malfoy kissed his neck urgently, hard and flush, long and wielding to him, and Harry made an indistinct throaty sound as his eyes fluttered shut. He felt hands draw under his shirt, cling to him and bring them closer, and Harry couldn't breathe, pressed against his hard body. Lips fumbled and sunk, light stings or hot bloody bruises against his skin, and he felt flickers of wet tongue.

He felt a mumble, but Harry was far away in bliss, clinging Malfoy to him desperately in the warm flush that spread over his skin, through his body. Mumble again, more distinct. "Stop."

Harry leaned his head further back, and in the mess, he felt teeth trace lightly across his neck. Little slices of teeth like pins, pauses to nibble gently, and he exhaled sharply. Then a bite amid a hot kiss, and Harry gripped his hair too hard, breathing hard.

"Make me stop." Malfoy mumbled against him, lips sliding and moving towards his jaw and under his ear, nails dug into his lower back. Harry shook his head indistinctly, tugging him closer and splaying his neck wider. Malfoy grew more insistent, tonguing him and biting relentlessly and Harry heard a groan from his own throat, angling him close with snatches of hair.

"Make me." More distinct. Harry held him against his skin, breathing erratically as Malfoy moved to the hollows of his collarbone, tracing a light tongue, and mouth pressing hard and urgent amid shuddered breathing. Harry was enwrapped in his scent, choked on it, in earthy notes, spices and wood. Heavy and warm, clothed lightly with a dangerous tinge of smoke and liquor.

"No," Harry breathed. Malfoy bit hard, on his soft neck and Harry cried out, before coating it with his tongue and sucking gently. Harry, panting, gripped his hair and angled him to the other side of his neck, where Malfoy drew a line of kisses before planting, sucking hard. He withdrew, kissing behind Harry's ear, a slice of teeth snagging his earlobe. Heat, in trails of flames licking and flaring Harry's body, broiled him.

"Tell me," a low breathy murmur in his ear. Harry retorted immediately, pressing back on the wall and wrapping his ankle around his, so his legs parted slightly and he could pull Malfoy tight against him.

"No." Harry was making throaty sounds as Malfoy patterned his jaw with hot, open kisses and breaths and wet licks. Nails digging even tighter so Harry grunted low, his hands releasing his hair and swerving round Malfoy's waist possessively and urgent, to pull his hips flush and hard against his and Malfoy made a low noise.

"God damn –" And the pressure lifted, off completely. Harry blinked back streams of light and colour, a dizzy swirl, to see Malfoy fly back, slam into the opposing wall.

"Fucking –" Malfoy was breathing hard, eyes wild and dark. He looked at Harry, face flushed, and a fury grew. "Control your gay ass." He leaned heavily on the wall, chest moving heavy.

Harry couldn't breathe, throat tight. "I'm not –" His whole body a flickering ember set alight and broiling.

Malfoy looked at him, eyes flashing, frowning heavier. "Could have fooled me."

"No," Harry breathed, voice hoarse, and swallowed hard. "I like girls too."

Malfoy was suddenly still. Harry blinked to see him better, and he was staring at him with slightly widened eyes under a heavy brow. They burned a lightning storm at him, grey and furious and wild.

"You –" Malfoy's eyes raged, flickering around his face. Settled on his eyes. "So you do like boys, then," he said, quieter.

Harry hesitated, and rubbed his tight chest. "Yeah."

Malfoy searched him closely, a myriad of movement in his open eyes. "Since when."

"I didn't know," said Harry, not sure where he was going with that. His jaw twitched.

Malfoy didn't stop staring, so Harry flicked his gaze down. "Recently?" he heard.

Harry nodded, and saw a flash in Malfoy's eyes when he caught his gaze, of realisation or understanding.

"Oh."

Harry couldn't look away, his pulse quickening again and he pressed his lips together. Malfoy had sounded weak, and he had nothing to say to him. Could say nothing, as his body was turbulent but mind a blinding haze. He knew. That Malfoy knew.

Malfoy looked away, blinked. He was still for a long while, and Harry felt his lips and jaw quiver. Malfoy bit his lip, curled his hands around the air and rolled his shoulders. Before he straightened up.

"Well, if you're curious, or whatever. We aren't doing this," he said, looking once at Harry. "We're already fucked up enough as it is."

Harry frowned, confused. "I don't –"

Malfoy's eyes met his, direct. "Go experiment with someone else."

Harry's lips parted in surprise. "What?" His mouth opened and closed, mind spinning. "That's not –"

Words failed him. And Malfoy just stared at him, jaw tight. "Muggles," he said tightly. "Blaise, even. You've already done that."

Harry was shaking his head indistinctly, frowning.

His voice grew hollow. "Anyone. But –" Malfoy looked away, before Harry saw a flicker in his face, like trembling wings.

Malfoy looked at the floor, eyes distant. He moved further back, skimming the wall, sliding like a shadow and slipped into his room. Leaving Harry alone, frowning at nothing.

He stood there in the dark for eons. Had slid to the floor, head against the wall, at one point. A pattern unfolded in his mind on and on, of Malfoy's anger and words, of Harry daring to expect something else, a chaotic mesh of hot lips and skin, and none of it made sense to him.

Only when he jerked, reflexively tugged his head back up, did he realise he was sliding into sleep. There was one single, revolving, match lit in his head fog. The break, in Malfoy's composure, a flutter of wings. It seemed the only real thing, amid it all; his tremble, against the weight of it.

Harry got up finally, and shuffled around the flat with tired eyes, aimless. Stood still, and kept pacing. Stood again. His feet buzzed, with a question, ready to move.

He walked, and was still at the bedroom doorframe. The room was still littered, with hollow bottles and ash. Malfoy was flat on his stomach, stretched on the bed, head turned away. He looked asleep, chest rising slow, swallowed by black shadows and clothes.

Harry crept over, slid on the sheets slowly like liquid. He drew up, and held himself loosely. Arms around knees, looking down tentatively at the still figure, head on his knees. He raised a hand, let it drift over Malfoy's back. It drew a light tear trail.

Malfoy drew back drearily, stretching around to peer at Harry with sleepy eyes. Looking him over, he rolled onto his back and lay flat, eyes reflective in the dark.

Head resting, Harry drew the back of his finger down his cheek, lingering on his jaw, watching his eyes slowly clear. He dislodged himself, and slipped soft onto his stomach, untangling to pool onto the bed, and looked across to meet his eyes, level. Harry's face blended into the sheet, half hidden.

They looked at each other, light and soft. They were cut into a small slice of total privacy, close together and closed to all else in the dark. Malfoy's bleary grey looked curiously at him just a moment away, and Harry shifted his hand a little, to trace his upper arm lightly.

He mumbled soft. "I'm staying."

Malfoy watched him, eyes stirring, and Harry drifted his hand over his chest, to gather his waist and draw him in. Harry slid slowly against him, warm bodies moving over each other like lips, and ducked into his neck. He buried into warm, tantalizing scent; old papery dust, and smoky rich earth. Like a well-handled book, and airy herbs and ash.

Malfoy exhaled slowly. "What the fuck are we doing?" he said after a while, quiet and slurred slightly.

Harry smiled into his warm neck. "Pretending we're asleep?"

Malfoy groaned slightly, and Harry felt his head tilt into him, pressed against his hair. "I can't think. I can't think."

Harry breathed deep, rounded his hold on him. His nose slid against warm skin, and he nestled there.

"So don't."