A/N: This story is a translation from a fic I wrote originally in Spanish. Though is basically the same story, I did change some parts and added a few more things to make it feel more complete. I apologize in advance for any grammar mistakes or any weird things you encounter through it, English isn't my first language. This fic will have three parts, but the more explicit content (slash, lemon) will be primarily on the last chapter. I'll do my best to upload weekly, but I'll make no promises. Please enjoy and tell me how you are liking it.
He couldn't lie to himself anymore. Desire was killing him; it corrode his insides like a single water drop would, even with the strongest of steels if it was an everyday thing.
In that throbbing and chaotic moment of his life, Harry Potter no longer remembered who the hell had made that observation; that "¿Is it me, or Malfoy gets hotter by the day?" said into the air that had been responsible for putting the god dammed gears in his brain into movement and that now, almost a year later, had him at the edge of collapsing.
The only thing that Harry remembered about that moment is that when the shameless commentary got to his ears, he looked up instinctively to find, in fact, Draco Malfoy, who seemed engaged in a light conversation with some Slytherin. He looked relaxed and every few words he would laugh in a sincere and clear way that Harry didn't remember having ever heard coming out of the boy´s mouth.
A sunbeam reached his platinum hair making it shine with a pale gleam; he encountered slim and angular factions, with elegant cheekbones and pink and thin lips. His eyes looked warm and were half closed from all the laughter. The afternoon heat and the animated conversation gave his cheeks a delicate, but hypnotizing blush and, with all that was going on, Harry was only able to think that he´s face was simply beautiful.
If in that moment, he would´ve been told that he was checking Malfoy out, he would´ve deny it and would´ve even felt offended; but now wanting to watch those long legs walk gracefully through the halls, along with that strong and sharp back, finished with a perfect and round butt that he fervently wanted to grab with his hands, had become almost a routine. Letting his eyes wonder over the exposed and pale collarbone and, wishing to be "Advanced potions" just to be held by those delicate and precise fingers, became as natural as breathing. That day being faced by such view, Harry´s heart skipped a beat, or maybe two. And in that moment of enlightenment, everything had gone to hell.
He didn't really notice that something was different until he found himself interrupting his routinary life to ask himself where Draco Malfoy could be, and which were his chances of bumping into the blond in this or that aisle. He discovered himself daydreaming in transformations class about situations, each one more preposterous than the previous one, in which Malfoy and his cronies would bet that the blond wouldn't had the guts to ask Harry on a date, or that they got potions detention together (as if he would ever get into detention) and that in that time they would get to know each other, becoming friends and later something else. And in that train of thought much more others flooded his mind.
He had located the place where Malfoy sat at the great hall and, unconsciously, had started seating exactly in front, where he could easily shoot non-stop and uncontainable glances to the fellow in question, who didn´t appear to sense the dreamy eyes that were fixed on his smile. He also knew the schedule of some of his classes and in the ones they shared, potions and herbology, though he didn't try to be his partner, he did sit in the closest spot to the slytherin he could find.
Even without taking into consideration the fact that Malfoy didn´t get out of his head, just with the butterflies Harry felt in his stomach every time that at the turn of a corner he got a glimpse of the silver hair, was more than enough for one to realize that he was starting to develop a little crush on the blond; and not even his stupid and stubborn teenager mind could have denied a so tangible and evident truth.
He thought that, as had happened previously with Cho and Ginny, after a couple of months he would've forgotten about all that bullshit and his life would come back to his usual "tranquility". But how life wouldn´t stop showing him, he was never right. Six months had gone by and there wasn´t a single day in which he didn´t sigh looking into the horizon, thinking about the swing of blond lashes and crawling whispers his poisoned brain could not decipher.
Despite all of this, the real concern didn't come till a freezing night of February. Quidditch training for the Gryffindor team, was programed for six in the afternoon right after Slytherin´s that was supposed to finish by 5:30. Because of this lapse of time between both trainings, Harry, who was deliberately early every time, could almost never see Malfoy. That Wednesday though, at 5:50 while he approached the playing field, Harry saw some green silhouettes descending to the ground. He delayed what he could his arrival to avoid any awkward encounter with the green and silver guys, just because of the well-known roughness that existed between both teams.
Finally, he forced himself to go on because Ron and Ginny were hurrying him to get on time, they had to give the few hours they had the best use they could since just in two weeks they had a match against Ravenclaw´s team. At the entrance they encountered some slytherins who shot them some hostile glances, but there wasn´t any Malfoy at sight.
Being already settled in the place, Harry gave the members of Gryffindor´s team commands for a basic warm up that he didn´t follow himself. Without it being a complete lie, he told his teammates that he needed to use the restroom for a minute, that he´d be right back. His mind and his head were competing to see which one could go faster. When he saw all the guys of the other team had left, but there wasn´t any sing of his childhood enemy, he thought that he might really had been absent that day. Nevertheless, something inside told him that there was a tiny chance of finding Malfoy there and, aware as we are of his little obsession, we know he wasn´t one to let go of such opportunity.
Sitting at the back in a bench, with his pale torso exposed and a big bruise under his ribs, was the source of Harry Potter´s sighs. Harry went unnoticed for about a minute after coming in, but when he approached the toilets to fulfill he´s official purpose of being there, the blond noticed his presence and immediately stopped the healing charm he was using on himself to direct his attention to the new comer.
Harry´s brain froze. He felt guilty for escaping just to see if Malfoy was there, and even more for having been enjoying the view of the strong shoulder blades and the soft movement of the accurate hand moving the wand. But Malfoy didn´t have a way to know that ¿Right? He thought about the thousand greetings he had imagined for the even more imaginary encounters; in which they did say hello when they met at any place.
He waited for way too long and the moment of greeting him had already passed, Malfoy was about to return to his labor, when Harry´s stupid and without filter tongue spitted a "Malfoy" alongside with a clumsy head nod. The alluded was surprised by the interaction attempt, so much, that it took him at least thirty seconds, an eternity for poor Harry that was already feeling really stupid, to answer back with a harsh "Potter" and taking the conversation as over, got back to what he was doing. Harry without knowing what to do, approached the closest urinal and while he got down to his business, had some time to think what he´d do next.
If he left without saying anything else to the slytherin, talking to him in a future occasion would be twice as hard and awkward. Despite being conscious of this fact, he couldn´t find that alleged courage every Gryffindor had within to start any kind of conversation and, anyways, it wasn't like he had thought something really bright to say to the guy.
While he zipped up his trousers and adjusted the button, took a deep breath and made a resolution. He would dive right in and would talk to him, no matter if he ended up being insulted, or even worst, ignored.
When Harry turned around to address Malfoy, he saw he was already getting into his quidditch t-shirt and quickly said "That Bludger must had hit you really hard, that looks really painful". This time Malfoy seemed prepared for the attempt of conversation, because he just sighed and with a resigned tone said "It wasn´t a Bludger, it was the idiot of Goyle that doesn´t seem capable of controlling that bat. It looks like he isn't able to coordinate his hands with his sight". Harry was really surprised, in first place, that he didn´t got sent to hell immediately, and second, that he received an answer that seemed to be part of an actual conversation.
Malfoy took Harry´s exited and confused silence for Quidditch machinations. "I just hope you don´t take this as an advantage for next game" he said after a minute raising a thin eyebrow. "I hadn't even thought about it" Harry quickly responded, who felt he could drown at any moment in one of the waves the blond hair made as it flickered. The other young man, who didn't seem to be aware of the spark that burned inside his interlocutor, continued with his skeptical and incredulous attitude. "Yeah sure, like a team Captain isn't always thinking about new strategies to win" "Quidditch isn't eeeeverything I think about. Seriously" To that commentary, the Slytherin made a face that mixed yeah, sure and how do you dare to affirm such thing? So perfectly, that Harry couldn't help but let out some laughter, which in his ears sounded clear and calm. Luckily, because he was truly dying on the inside. He was filled with the need to laugh even more, to scream, to fly, when Malfoy returned to him a shy and white smile. Still smiling, and much to his regret, Harry tried to excuse himself by saying "I really wasn´t. But well, I should get going; the guys are waiting for me". Yet, the only thing that was able to get this time was a head nod. Before he finally crossed the door that would take him into the playground, Harry turned his head and made one last comment. "Try applying dittany and aloe, it will get rid of the pain right away" The blond taken by surprise by such act of camaraderie, just muttered a dry "Thanks". Harry dealt his final blow by saying "No problem, see you later" and got out feeling like he had just won the quidditch tournament and the cup of the houses the same day.
That night, after struggling at least one hour with the butterflies that swirled in his tummy and with Ron´s snoring, he could finally fall into a happy and calm sleep.
The trouble began when, a couple of ours latter he woke up all sweaty and with the vivid image in his mind of his lips on Malfoy's well-defined collarbone, going down his naked chest while he grabbed firmly those rounded buttocks. The blond letting out small pleasure moans while he traveled leaving a track of kisses that each time headed more and more towards south…
¡Arghhh! Damn it. Damned hormonal teenager body. Damned Malfoy. Why did he have to be so stupidly sexy with his elegant movements and blinding smile? Why did he have to take Harry to the point of having to deal with his throbbing boner, that now formed a notorious tent on his pajama pants?
He did what had to be done. He introduced his hand inside his pants and slowly, with movements that were more urgent and quicker by the time, the picture of Malfoy with his naked torso and the thought of all that he wanted to do with him, took him to have one of the most pleasurable orgasms he had had in a really long time.
Just the next morning, after waking up with the sticky crime scene all over his abdomen and torso, did he realize that he was completely and hopelessly in love with Draco Malfoy.
Since that fateful day, behaving like a civilized human being around Malfoy began to be deliberately impossible. For the perceptive Hermione it was already more than obvious that something was up with him, he was being so evident that it was getting impossible even for Ron not to notice his in love schoolgirl like behavior. "Man, are you sure one of those crazy fans didn't give you one of those love potions? You are acting really strange" "I told you a hundred times, ¡No!" "You can´t never be sure, why don't you give Mrs. Pomfrey a visit, Harry?" interfered a smiley Hermione, fully aware that what happened had nothing to do with a love potion.
Harry could not help his cheeks getting slightly pink every time he saw the blond slid through the corridors. In the classes they had together he couldn't get himself to think and each time they shared frugal greetings, he felt as though his heart was about to explode and his knees were made of jelly. Well yes, now he and Malfoy greeted each other every time they got to class or when they met before quidditch training (something that started to happen quite often after the previously mentioned encounter). When they were surrounded by a lot of people, they limited to what Harry called in his mind 'The manly head nod' that was accompanied from time to time with a "Malfoy" and another nod, "Potter". When they were in a mostly empty hall the thing went even up to "How did you like herbology class today? Sprout was really harsh with all the homework she left" or "I saw an asteroid rain in my start chart, isn´t that cool?". And what really kept Harry alive was that when he bumped into the Slytherin before practice he could enjoy a conversation that a pair of friends could perfectly have, in which Malfoy with his soft eyes gave him smiles and from time to time he would burst in to laughter.
Honestly, after the encounter with Malfoy in the lockeroom, he had spent the whole training mind slapping himself for how stupid he should have sounded and for how awkward his strained and sad attempts to stablish a conversation must have been to the blond. Nonetheless, the not in his throat and the desire to hit a wall with his head till he got Malfoy out, or at least till he forgot that he had behaved as if the two neurons that he had weren´t able to synapse, vanished three days later when, before potions class, Malfoy smiled and lightly waved at him. Harry, astonished, almost chokes with a "H-He-ey" that nearly came too late. In that moment in his mind the hitting the wall turned into patting his back, congratulating himself for his previous courage as if the feeling of shame was something strange to him.
Around two more months went by in this dynamic. The greetings, the little chats and the smiles where the only things Harry could get out of Malfoy. It was all too…friendly. And one shall not misunderstand Harry. He really enjoyed the moments shared with the cheerful, vivacious and kind (recently discovered qualities) boy; he loved having him as a friend because he was someone, Harry could talk about quidditch, potions and even life around the castle with. But it wasn't enough. He needed more. More of Malfoy. More of that murmured words in his ears, more of that blond hair slipping through his fingers, more of that silky skin under his lips. All of what left Harry with three problems, without taking in account the exams and millions of papers he had due.
In first place where the non-stop wet dreams. Each night he found himself caressing his rock-hard erection thinking about the pictures he had just woke up with. Malfoy naked and calling his name, Malfoy with his swollen lips around one of Harry's balls, Malfoy all in fours with his ass in the air ready for him. It was hard looking him in the face the next day after having desecrated his image in such vile way.
The other one was that Hermione, besides realizing that Harry was having a crush, was getting alarmingly close to finding out who it was on. This had two implications: Someone else knowing about his feelings for Malfoy made them twice as real and, it also meant that he was giving enough sings for it to be evident, which could put him in a lot of trouble. Hermione being as smart and perceptive as she was, didn't outperformed Malfoy by much. If Hermione ended up adding two plus two, how long would it before Malfoy did as well? He wouldn't be able to deal with the rejection of someone he craved so much; just thinking about never getting to kiss him, touch him and make him his kept him awake at night as much as his desire for him.
And the last problem was highly related with this concern. The days went by and the relationship didn´t progressed. They only spent together a few minutes per day and their chats would not transcend to anything but banalities. The only things he knew about Malfoy were that he was incredibly intelligent and kind (besides that the fact that he coulnd´t be hotter), and everything that was of public knowledge. He didn´t even know if Malfoy would be up to being something more that friends with a guy, and especially if that guy was Harry Potter. For him this new relationship with Harry might only be that of just another friend.
Whatever it was the situation, he had to do something to be aware of his odds. He needed to take matters into his hands before his overflowing libido made him explode and everything got out of control.
A long hour into a transformations class had gone by and Harry hadn't heard a single word that was coming out of Professor McGonagall's mouth after she said something about transfiguring kitties into cheetahs. The only thing Harry was capable of imagining was Malfoy wiggling a spotted tail that came out of his butt as he slowly walked in his direction.
Apparently, the severe professor noticed, if not the bulged that was starting to form in his trousers, his lost gaze and his flushed cheeks. "Mr. Potter will tell us, with ease, the precise words for the feline evolving spell" "Uhh…err" "I thought so. Now please focus on the lecture and leave all those fantasies for when they are appropriate". Everyone laughed and the young Gryffindor's face turned more crimson than his tie. After that public humiliation for not being able to control his hormones, Harry just couldn't take it anymore. He decided that after the Gryffindor vs Slytherin match the next Saturday, he would tell Malfoy about his feelings by any mean.