Title: Clear

Chapter 10: Sighs

Pairing: Harry/Draco

Rating: R for slash themes

**WARNING**: THIS STORY CONTAINS SLASH THEMES – WHICH MEANS HOMOSEXUAL RELATIONSHIPS BETWEEN TWO MALE CHARACTERS. YOU ARE ADVISED TO LEAVE IF YOU HAVE A PROBLEM WITH THIS.

Disclaimer: The characters portrayed in this story do not belong to me, but to the Harry Potter series by JK Rowling. This is all FICTION; none of it is true. No profit was made from this story. I bear no responsibility for anything you may claim from this story, you have been warned.

LAST WARNING. SLASH. HOMOSEXUALITY. LEAVE IF YOU DON'T LIKE.

Notes:  Much thanks to the reviewers!!!! Thank you just so, so, SO much! Much thanks to May, the very evil bunny, ClarKeRaVen, alistar, Evil Laughter, efa, Summer, Anne Phoenix, Lady Malfoy II, someone who's too lazy to login, Heavens_beyond, GlacierFlame, bondagechic, IncubusSuccubus, in-a-crushd-tin-box, Patchfire, Marionette, Gwendolyn Malfoy, Lunadeath, mellony melody, Sera Luanma, Hoshikio-Malfoy, J (BleedingEros), Moonblade, Sienna of Lothlorien, Zany, pottergirl, Mistic, random reviewer, ILLk, Hoshiko-Malfoy, Little Bunny Fu Fu, scythefire, Kiren, vanityfair, AshFarley, phoenixwhitebirch, Sineadluv, K.C., Marian of the Faeries, Aurora, Tanya Maxwell, Reveuse, Avalon Princess, yiota, chrisseee67, Rosetta, deadredsocks, JadeDragon, Chiaki Dark, Jade_Jewel, Chireel, Scap, TanisaFyre, Jinsei, The Intellectual Dirtbag, Ghaleonsama, Baby Ty Ty, AmZ, and to the other anonymous reviewers!!! You guys are so sweet!

Thank you to J – for tossing ideas around with me because of this stupid writer's block!

***

O beauty, passing beauty! Sweetest sweet!

How can thou let me waste my youth in sighs?

I only ask to sit beside they feet.

Thou knowest I dare not look into thine eyes.

Might I but kiss thy hand! I dare not fold

My arms about thee – scarcely dare to speak.

And nothing seems to me so wild and bold,

As with one kiss to touch thy blessed cheek.

Methinks if I should kiss thee, no control

Within the thrilling brain could keep afloat

The subtle spirit. Even while I spoke,

The bare word "kiss" hath made my inner soul

To tremble like a lute string, ere the note

Hath melted in the silence that it broke

***

Draco had his eyes closed, but was not sleeping. No, he had finished already. It was now – he peeked his eyes open to glance at the clock on his night table – four-oh-two a.m., and his mind was awake, zooming, ready for the day. Which brought with it the crushing reality that he was one day closer to his birthday, and one day closer to the 'surprise' his parents had in store for him. He had more than a month, but it was not long enough.

He sighed deeply, and in some strange reflex response, he felt the warm arms around him tighten as their owner responded with a matching sigh of his own. This prompted another sigh from Draco, this time softer, and he inched closer to Potter, squeezing his eyes as tightly as possible, trying to get back into a dream state.

He heard Potter sigh again, and this time, the arm that he was sleeping on wiggled slightly. Draco kept as still as possible, wondering if his fidgeting had woken the other boy up. And then he felt hot breath on his forehead as the arm the was draped around his waist moved so that the hand began stroking his back slowly. Suddenly, the warm, toasty feeling under his comforter got too warm for his liking.

Draco squirmed slightly, so that when Potter's hand hitched onto the edge of his pajama top and swept upwards, revealing smooth, pale skin before Potter realized what happened. And then the callused fingertips paused, delicately poised midway down Draco's back. And there they stayed, tentative, afraid, and Draco could sense the hesitance in Potter from the way Potter froze, and the humid air was no longer being breathed onto Draco's forehead. So Draco squirmed, again, so that Potter's fingers moved against him slightly, and it broke the hesitance, and five fingertips trailed up and down his back, down, and up, and down, and up, and then down and then it stayed there for a minute until Potter gently rested his entire hand against Draco's lower back, down where his skin met his pajama bottoms.

Draco could feel the heat coming from Potter's hand, and he wasn't aware that he was holding his own breath, and let it out slowly, so that Potter wouldn't know he was actually awake for this. Potter lifted his hand then, leaving only the tip of his index finger in contact with Draco's skin, painting designs onto translucent skin. Draco shivered – he was ticklish, sinfully so – and Potter's finger stopped immediately as the boy held his breath.

"Draco?" came the airy whisper. If Draco hadn't been so tense, every nerve ending poised and ready, he would have missed it.

Looking back, Draco had no idea what possessed him at that moment – perhaps it was the realization that he may as well live his life out in the days before…the thing…but he made tiny purr, much like the miniature rumble of a newborn kitten.

Potter let out a great whoosh of air, ruffling Draco's bangs slightly in his relief. Long silver locks of molten moonlight were draped elegantly across his face, which was half buried in the fluffy pillow. Pursing his lips, Draco felt Potter blowing gently at the strands until they floated away, revealing dainty features, almost effeminate but not quite. And then his finger began tracing patterns on Draco's lower back once more.

Draco purred again, this time louder, deeper, longer. His right arm was curled under him, so he reached out to Potter with his left, and grabbed the pajama top around the waist, bunching up the opulent fabric. Between Potter's legs was his own left one, and Draco curled his knee inwards so it rubbed against Potter's inner thighs.

"Oh!"

Draco opened one eye slightly to glance at Potter when the small gasp broke the silence. The other boy's eyes had widened, pupils dilating until they seemed to swallow up the irises, which had in turn darkened to a deep forest green. A blush began to form high on Potter's cheeks, and his mouth had opened as the small sound had broken through while his finger stopped its movement on Draco's skin. Draco squirmed once more, so that his body was flush against Potter's. He could feel warm hands on his back, holding him close, and he moaned slightly, just slightly, so that it was no more than a whisper, knowing that his humid breath would settle on Potter's lower lip.

"Draco?" came the voice once more, but this time it was louder, as if the caller wanted to wake him. A hand was removed from his back and reached to stroke his cheek softly. "Draco?" Potter shook him slightly, calling to him loudly.

Still he made no answer, except a small sigh.

The hand drifted down to his chin, and began caressing him there. He could feel Potter's presence nearing him, and he parted his own mouth just slightly in pretense of what was to come.

Draco remained perfectly still as Potter's lips gently touched his. There was no pressure, only the slightest contact was made, and it stayed there for three seconds until Potter's bottom lip quivered and he pulled away hastily, but it was too late for Draco, who had already felt shivers shoot from his lips down his spine from the tremulous lips. He was definite the hair on his arms were standing on end.

It was then that Draco decided to 'wake up'. Fluttering his lashes, he opened his eyes slowly to find Potter's own looking back at him, alarmed. "Malfoy!"

"Potter," he said lazily, blinking just as languidly. "What were you doing?"

Potter jolted, and hastily retrieved his hands and shoved them behind his back. The action, however, resulted in Draco losing a very comfortable arm as a pillow, and his head dropped rather unceremoniously to the bed. "Well, Potter?" he asked, slightly disgruntled.

"Nothing," came the squeaky answer.

Potter seemed rather unaware that Draco's hand was still clutching his top tightly until he let go. "Well, then, Potter." Draco closed his eyes and settled onto his back comfortably, leaving a good many inches between him and Potter. "Do nothing again, and this time, do it properly."

There was a pause, and Draco could feel Potter's hesitance. He was ready to push him away when

FUCK

Potter lunged at him, pressing his bitten lips against Draco's soft ones, gripping his shoulders tightly. Draco was so shocked he didn't know how to respond, and didn't – couldn't – respond. Just a press of lips to lips, but Draco's mind was already going through a meltdown.

After – how long? – ten seconds? half a minute, an hour, forever? Potter broke away, and Draco lay there for a second, eyes still closed, before opening them slowly to see Potter gazing down at him with an intense look in his eyes.

The look was predatory. It was dangerous. And by the Gods, it thrilled Draco to no end.

A huge burst of air expelled itself from Draco's lungs. "Your first time, Potter?"

Hesitance, and then, a quick nod. Draco smirked, and reached up, pushing Potter's head closer to his. "I'll tell you a secret," he whispered. "Mine, too."

"Oh?" He could feel Potter relax and smile into his shoulder.

"Mhm. But you know what, Potter?" Draco pushed slightly on Potter's head, and it came up willingly to face him. "It goes better if you open your mouth. Like this." And with that, he grabbed Potter's shirt and pulled him down for another kiss.

***

Harry was panting afterwards. Panting, and lightheaded. Feeling that the world was fuzzy, and warm, and happy, and the tingly feeling all over was good, especially the raw sensitivity of his lips, which had been licked at, nibbled at, kissed at tenderly, and rubbed against the softest of all skins that Fate had given to one Draco Malfoy.

He had no idea what he was doing, what he had done, and what was to be done about the whole situation, but there was still a slight gnawing feeling inside of him that screamed Draco Dark Mark stupid Potter you pervert over and over again. Harry had collapsed beside Malfoy after their little session, watching the other boy close his eyes and breathe deeply. He couldn't help but smile to himself at the sight of Malfoy's long, long hair tangled and tousled from his fingers, of lips, usually so pale and peachy a pink, but now scarlet and glistening as the tip of a tongue extended from his mouth to lick at them.

Malfoy let out a deep sigh of satisfaction, and smiled slightly as well. Harry couldn't help but be shocked, as this was the first time Malfoy had ever smiled in his presence. This, perhaps, marked a Significant Moment, and Harry felt something deep inside of him stir. Not even during their late-night violin chat sessions had he seen Malfoy crack a smile until now.

I wonder if he likes cuddling

Harry inched closer to Malfoy, and slid his arm under his head as an offering of a pillow. Lifting his head slightly, Malfoy now rested in the crook of his arm as Harry wrapped a leg and arm around him, pulling him close.

"What are we now?" whispered Harry.

Malfoy wouldn't look at him. "What do you think, Potter?"

"I don't know."

"Look, I know that you and the Weasley skank –"

"Ginny? There's nothing between us," Harry cut in hurriedly.

Malfoy went quiet, and opened his eyes to look up into Harry's own. "Oh?" he went, with a tilt in his brow.

"Yeah. I mean, no. I mean, there's just nothing. No one for me right now."

Malfoy's brow went higher. "Oh?" he said again, and he slithered off Harry's arm and under the blanket so that only trails of silver hair were all Harry could see. "Then I guess you should go. The Weasel and Mudblood have probably been worried sick all night over you."

Harry felt something clutch at his heart and he immediately tried to lift the blanket off Malfoy, but to no avail. "No, Malfoy, that's not what I meant! Malfoy!" He began scrambling over the bed, trying to follow the lump that just evaded his fingers. "Malfoy!"

The lump stilled in the middle of the bed. Harry had somehow gravitated towards the opposite corner from where he started off, and he knelt on the covers, sitting back on his heels. He felt cold without the warmth of the blanket and of another body, and he rubbed his arms. "Malfoy, you know when I said that, that wasn't what I meant."

He could almost see Malfoy raise an eyebrow at him through the fabric. "Malfoy, stop being such a child. You know what I meant."

"Oh, so I'm a child now, aren't I?" came his muffled voice, arched and a little piqued. "I was pampered and spoilt rotten until I came to Hogwarts, thank you very much. Eleven years of work is hard to undo, even in seven years. And if you've forgotten, I have a very special birthday present waiting for me from my dear father and his master," he said, spitting the last word out as if it tasted bad. "And no, I don't know what you mean." Harry knew he added that just to try and annoy him.

"You do know."

"I don't."

"Are you insisting?"

"Fuck, yeah."

Harry sighed. "If you insist, then, Malfoy. I meant that there was no one else for me until just now. I meant that there had been no one for me until now, either. Now do you know what I mean?"

Silence, then, "Maybe."

"And do you maybe want to get out from under the covers now?"

"Only if you stop sitting on it. They're stuffed with handpicked down feathers and the cover is made from the finest of silks ever produced. My father sent it to me from France." The lump moved until it emerged back at Malfoy's pillow and Harry scooted back over so that they were sitting next to each other.

"So, what are we?" Harry asked again.

"Potter, are you really going to make me ask you this?"

"Yes."

"Why." Malfoy wasn't too happy about it.

"Because. I can't."

"Fine." Malfoy wouldn't look at him as he said, "Harry, will you go out with me?"

"Of course." Harry beamed, and wrapped Malfoy into a hug. "Things will be perfect, you know. And everything will be just fine."

Malfoy sighed and leaned his head on Harry's shoulder. "Mhm."

"Just fine. I promise."

To Be Continued!

Notes: O Beauty, Passing Beauty! poem by Alfred Tennyson, used without permission, sorry! :p