The stone hit cold on his feet as his steps echoed around the corridors. The suits of armor gleamed methodically in the dark as the breaks in the masonry allocated rays to pass and reflect within the shadows. Had it not been for the glass covering the slanted windows, Draco would swear a mist had gathered and spilled to caress every corner of the hallway, dulling the shine of the metal suits.
These halls, with their drafty silence and resonation mirrored Draco's own thoughts, his heart. Empty. That was the feeling, like all things were lost, broken under the glass, shattered into the moonlight. He could harvest the pieces, but the energy in its destruction would be forever lost to the universe.
Was it a rejection? Why hadn't it been…different? A plethora of images snaked their way into Draco's overly active mind: of kissing Harry, touching Harry, holding Harry, taking Harry…
His fingers itched and yearned for taught skin burning with passion, but only of one in particular, the only one who had managed to capture his heart. The one who just now 'needed to be alone.' Why? Was it him?
Each new shock of cold spread from his toes, up his calves and further. They fluttered within his pants, trapped and iced where Harry had heated. Almost like a foreshadowing of ruin, like an omen of sure fire death. Without Harry—
An invisible hand broke through Draco's chest, clutching his winded lungs, squeezing his pulsing muscle, fracturing his short breath into sporadic gasps. He slammed against the granite wall, balling his skin over the origin of that pulse. Any minute it would explode, the pressure was so tight, how could this be anything but magic?
Draco moaned in agony, sinking to the floor, overcome with more emotion than love itself. He couldn't breathe, couldn't think, couldn't move. Pain was candy, sweet and expressive, and Harry needed to be alone. What could he do?
* * * * *
At his desk, Harry scribbled, the same three words over and over. It was like a mantra, keeping him in his seat, away from the treacherous landings of sleep—well, dreams of a sexy body, bathed in sweat, doing things not even a saint could endure…
Of course, trying not to think of those things just made them appear with more vivacity in his mind and Harry squirmed relentlessly in his rigid chair. The motion of is quill had stopped, and he looked back at his handy-work.
I love Draco.
Six hundred times. And he loves me back. Again the summer passed yet there was no more pain, only a new understanding of the depth of love, of the immense feeling of fierce protection.
Harry stood and paced before the desk with the echoes of dawn streaming in his mind. Still, several hours remained standing between him and the morning light. Still, several hours remained before him to avoid sleep.
However, sleeping wasn't too much of a call, for he did wake from a dream only a short while before. In fact, with every step gained on that rug, the more energized and awake he felt. Like new adrenaline coursing through all passages in his body.
The plan would go smoothly, there was a night. Draco would know, they could talk when he came to visit after potions… it was the perfect strategy. Yes, made in a matter of seconds, but this was fool proof: no loops or holes or—
But what if he didn't come back? What if Draco thought he needed more time, that Harry would require more than a night too cool off and think. So long, two days. What if he lost him forever because of this, because Draco got the wrong impression from his "punishment," that I didn't…
Ridiculous.
Why was he waiting here in the first place? Draco is a few paces away. I could be touching him, caressing him… witnessing that beautiful sensation called love. There were rooms, they had time. Yes, it was seventh year, but missing one day wouldn't hurt… time is what they needed, getting back what was lost, what should have been and now could come again. The future looked bright, as bright as the dawn would be… Why am I here?
Harry ran his hand across his chest, brushing the necklace on the hard planes of muscle. The symbol of ultimate sacrifice, and yet for the greater good of human kind. Harry would surrender his pride and pain to live that greater dream of Draco.
Harry sighed loudly. "Why I—"
Noisy footsteps flew down the stairs to the swing of a closing door.
* * * * *
Harry raced the corridors, somewhat lost in his new situation. His quarters were rather unique in their direction and it took him several minutes to find the passages toward the dungeons.
Hopefully that is the route Draco took, straight back to bed. And thoughts of bed led to more thoughts of bed, in a completely sexual manner. Oh yeah, Harry was horny—but horny for more than carnal embrace. It was ferocious sex and that plane of happiness Draco brought him to.
Or it was just the sex…Never.
Harry moved faster, praying he'd catch Draco before he disappeared into the common room, before he left Harry's sight forever. Rounding a corner, he glimpsed a pale heap against the wall, shrouded in shadows.
Draco made it to his feet before he felt the impact of a moving body and lips colliding with his. He felt he should struggle, for a fleeting instant, and then an orange and mint scent pervaded his nostrils—Harry.
Those demanding lips reaped quite a response as Draco threw everything into that kiss. He pushed Harry up against the wall, pinning him with his body, reveling in the scorching heat of his skin. Hands splayed roughly against the planes of his back, eliciting a sharp hiss from Draco's lips. He gained more fervor when Harry pressed his chest to his.
Draco broke the kiss long enough to whisper, "Why did you come after me?" However, he didn't remain still long enough for Harry to answer.
Harry parted Draco's lips and snaked his tongue to stroke Draco's. Strokes turned to caresses and tongues explored the caverns of the other's mouth. Harry rejoiced between Draco and the wall, being trapped in passion. It was erotic, and combined with his earlier thoughts and the real heat of Draco against him, he was as rigid as iron in an instant.
His hands moved across the working muscles of Draco's back, from his shoulder blades down, caressing each nuance in shape. At his lower back, Harry skated over Draco's sides, and hips before rounding to grasp his firm buttocks. For Draco, it was nearly too much and he broke the battle of tongues to release the deep groan Harry's hands had evoked.
Without wasting a second, Harry's freed mouth moved to Draco's jaw, and kissed a line from ear to neck. He trailed the tip of his tongue along Draco's collarbone before nipping at the junction in the center.
"Draco," Harry breathed, "I want you. Only you."
Draco groaned as Harry slid further down, licking and nibbling at the flat pink discs on his chest. He was so hot, blisteringly so, his tongue a thing of fire. Harry moved deftly down, further and further toward the waist of his silk pants. The heat near Harry's neck radiated from Draco in waves, like the world would end from the very thought of it. Draco put both hands on the wall to steady himself as his minx moved lower.
Slowly, Harry trailed his fingers up the silk-clad thighs, coming ever nearer to Draco's aching cock. With deft movements, Harry untied the strings at the waist and the cloth slithered down the Slytherin's well-toned legs where it pooled at his feet.
In the drafty silence of the corridor, Draco Malfoy was naked and exposed to his arch-nemesis turned lover, Harry Potter, who happened to be on his knees and eager to take Draco into his mouth.
The hard length sprung forward and Harry smiled up into the stormy eyes of his love. Draco caught his breath as Harry turned his attentions to his throbbing manhood and blew softly on his tip. He shivered in anticipation with the double temperatures of his skin.
"Harry," Draco groaned, somewhat quietly, "should we do this here…"
Harry hardly paid heed and grasped the firm flesh in his hand; Draco hissed.
"Mmmm, yesss…"
It was the last coherent thing Draco heard before Harry, with slick lips, kissed his tip and began sliding his tongue along his length. Draco stood straight, letting go of the wall in favor of sliding his fingers into the raven head of hair below him. His actions encouraged Harry, who then took all of Draco in his mouth.
The heat encasing him, in wet bliss, god it was the best feeling in months, the feeling of being inside Harry. Draco threw his head back and groaned while Harry continued ministrations to his pulsing cock.
A small breeze flittered past, and though it cooled Draco's feverish skin, it intensified the excitement of the two men completely vulnerable to intrusion. Harry trailed his fingertips along the surface of Draco's thighs, and brushed lightly over the plump orbs at the base of his erection. They constricted, and Draco's breathing became more like panting, while the fingers in his hair tightened. Hips began to buck forward, Draco visibly thrusting into the cavern of Harry's sweet mouth.
In seconds Draco burst, spilling his seed rapidly onto the hungry tongue, and the smiling Gryffindor religiously swallowed it. Draco didn't give himself a moment to recover, but pulled Harry to his feet and kissed him thoroughly, his taste still lingering on that wicked tongue.
Clumsily, Draco pushed Harry against the wall once more, still weak in his post-orgasmic state. The kiss deepened, tongues dueling greedily, sliding and attacking. Draco drew his hands along Harry's biceps and further to shackle his wrists. Slowly, he tugged and before Harry knew what was happening, Draco had pinned his hands above his head and was now stroking his jaw line. Harry shivered.
"You are wicked, Potter. You should be punished." Draco breathed heavily against a set of lips.
"Yes, I need to be punished. I am so naughty." Harry wantonly thrust his own desire against Draco's rapidly hardening one. He gasped, "Draco—"
"Did you see a room near here…" Draco managed between pants.
Harry arched his back to create even more friction and contact between their scantily clad feverish bodies. "A little bit that way."
Draco moaned. "Harry, we can't, here,"
"I know," Harry kissed Draco, licking his lips as he pulled away, "take me…" Harry let the sentence hang, and the double meaning sink in. Draco growled a primitive sound and roughly drew Harry to him.
He lifted Harry by his buttocks and wrapped his legs around his waist, walking quickly to the door framed by the stone. Inelegantly, Draco swung the door inward, into the room and toward the wide granite bench.
The door closed itself behind them as Draco halted next to the seat. Sensuously Harry slid down Draco's body, caressing every part of him with everything he had. Instead of bringing Draco to his knees, Harry moaned aloud and nearly unmanned himself on contact.
Harry took the back of Draco's neck and stared intensely into Draco's liquid silver eyes. I want you, Draco. Slowly, he leaned into the kiss, taking possession of Draco's lips in a scorching touch, igniting the flames of passion.
He didn't need to be told twice.
With alacrity, Draco spun Harry around, swept off his pants and bent him over to grasp the back of the bench. Taking his hips in his hands, Draco spread Harry's legs wide and positioned himself over his entrance. Ever so lightly, Draco pushed in, stretching just enough before pulling out again.
"Do you want more?" Draco strained to get his voice heard.
Harry was panting and moaning, barely able to breathe. "Yes…"
Draco moved his hand around Harry and gripped him firmly. With practiced strokes, Draco pumped Harry's length, eliciting loud groans and hisses from the man before him. His breathing became more rapid, like he needed air; Draco knew he was close and sped his caresses with each passing second. Harry tightened and wound himself taught, feeling the sensation of Draco touching him again. And with a blinding flash of light, Harry came into Draco's waiting hand, gasping and whimpering.
"Draco…"
He responded with a guttural growl and took Harry's seed and slathered his cock and Harry's entrance with it. Again Draco went back to teasing Harry, moving just far enough in, stretching him, and relaxing him.
"Please, Draco, please…"
Draco smiled, "Just wait, Potter… Harry…"
His name was a breath so close to his ear; it sent pleasurable shivers down his spine. Draco paused, holding on to every muscle to not pound into Harry, but the last tingle pushed Harry onto him and Draco lost control.
In one swift thrust he was completely sheathed in Harry's heat, and he made musical gasps and whimpers as Draco pumped into him. He was relentless, going and going, again and again. It was carnal, primal, primitive and perfect. It was fierce and ferocious, Draco behind, Harry bent forward, thrust after thrust.
Passion wound around them, strung them through and lifted them away from the material plane. It was a mating to assure the other was still alive, breathing and there with them. Muscles contracted, orbs tightened, stomachs went taught. Draco could feel himself close and leaned forward to clasp Harry's once again.
He moved in time with his thrusts, becoming quicker and more sporadic. Draco took in the sheen of sweat that bathed them both and their bodies gleaming in the partial moonlight. In that moment, they both exploded, discharging everything; anything and everything in that release.
I love you, Draco.
"And I love you, Harry."
The two lay on the bench, wrapped in each other's arms. Though the seat was stone, it was surprisingly warm—something about magical granite.
"Promise me something, Malfoy." Harry whispered against his lips.
"Anything."
"Promise you'll never leave me for a senseless reason like that again."
It wasn't senseless. "I promise."
"I know you think you did the right thing, but, I can take care of myself." As long as you are with me.
"I know, love. I know."
* * * * *
Professor Snape, in his usual billowing robes, strode menacingly down the corridor, taking in the misty air and the slanted windows. It was just the night to be patrolling, the new moon, bound to be trouble. Students were still hyperactive on a new moon, no matter how many people say it is the full that gets the most.
He passed a few stones where he noticed a black pool near the side wall, next to a suit of armor. Bending down, he picked the garment up: silk pajama bottoms. Someone is out of bed, and apparently half naked. Oh, what a fun night it will be tonight…
* * * * *
Harry and Draco lay there still twenty minutes after, when the morning light began to seep through.
"I think we should get going, back to my room."
"I think you're right, for once Potter." But Draco made no move to leave, only buried his face in the crook of Harry's shoulder.
"Come on Draco, we can have a nice bed, and all day today."
Reluctantly, Harry sat up and brought his lover with him. Harry grabbed his pants and put them on slowly and deliberately, just to tease a certain someone.
"I think mine are still in the corridor."
Together they made their way to the door and opened its well-oiled hinges. They both stepped out, and looked upon the stone floor of the empty passage.
"Oh, dear, Draco. I believe one of the Castle inhabitants has run off with your clothes." Harry chuckled.
"It seems so, Potter." He stood with his hands on hips.
"Well, come on." Harry took Draco's hand and they ran back to his rooms, Harry pinching and slapping and teasing all the way there.
-Fin-