A/N: Guess who? Yeah, 'tis the Grand Master Of Procrastination. And in response to the fic, I had a dream. And that I wish all dreams involved hot horny guys and snogging, but alas… we cannot have everything in life, no? Have had idea for a while now, had no motivation to finish it. Until now. Yeah, we all wish I hadn't.
Dedicated to: Chermie and Faith, You Horrible, Incorrigible People Who Are Leaving.
Disclaimer: Standard procedure. Story based on characters and situations created by JK Rowling, blah, blah, blah. No copyright infringement intended, no profit being made.
Summary: In which Malfoy seduces and Harry is, well, clueless. Mad snoggage, anyone? One-shot (for now), PWP.
Every Flavour Slytherin
by Elysian shades.
There he was, doing it again.
It was the seventeenth time Harry had caught Malfoy staring at him, grey eyes glittering like sunlight on frost and smirk spreading over his face in the most infuriating manner.
Green eyes narrowed as Harry attempted to shoot Avada Kedavra through his stare. Which, as usual (surprise, surprise), did not work.
Malfoy just laughed. A really indulgent laugh of genuine amusement, too, not the usual snicker. He just threw his head back and opened that pale red mouth of his and out came the sound of a thousand crystal glasses breaking.
Figured even Malfoy's laugh would sound expensive.
Harry unconsciously clenched his jaw and resolutely turned back to his breakfast, vowing to not return Malfoy's staring even if it bloody well killed him. Besides, it was too early in the morning. Of course, there was nothing inherently wrong with staring and smirking, but this was Malfoy. He never smirked without a reason and the reason for said smirking usually wasn't something good. For Harry, at least. It was like he had some elaborate prank he was about to pull and he was just waiting for the right moment until a grand piano dropped through the ceiling and landed on Harry, effectively squashing him and then all that'd be left of him was his broken glasses and a slimy mess on the floor.
Well, okay, in retrospect, if a piano dropped through the ceiling, the floor would have to break and this was Hogwarts so that was impossible, plus even if it did, somebody would be able to stop it first, or at least shift it so that the students were out of harm's way, but still… Malfoy was watching him with a careful attentiveness which scared him, really, and gave him the strangest urge to run away screaming.
Right now it didn't seem like such a bad idea, except he'd look like a raving lunatic in front of all of Hogwarts and then it'd be on the front of the Daily Prophet, too. Yeah, that was him: the Boy Who Lived To Go Mad, Potter the Potty - the list would cease to end.
Suddenly, when the prickly eyeballs-on-his-back feeling got too much for him and his vow mentally shattered on the floor, Harry's gaze snapped to Malfoy.
And stayed there.
One rose-petal-pink mouth closed around a strawberry and sucked gently. Then it released its treasure and the berry glistened wet with saliva and sharp teeth bit into the fruit's flesh, and juice stained pale, alabaster flesh pink as it trickled down Malfoy's arm. A tongue slowly followed that trail of sweet liquid, sensual and shocking, and smoky grey eyes turned to meet Harry's fascinated (and, alright, lustful) gaze.
Harry was sure almost all movement stopped in the Great Hall.
The git smiled. And it wasn't just any smile, either. This smile was part flirtatious, part predatory and part challenge. It sent Harry's train of thought reeling from 'Oh-no-it's-Potions' railway, to 'I-want-sex-now' track. Delicious but currently unwanted heat pooled somewhere in Harry's stomach and he nearly choked on his toast.
Then Malfoy winked and grinned rather rakishly (was it just him or did his heart start beating fifty times faster?) in Harry's direction and at the back of his mind he heard an excited squeal. In one fluid motion, Malfoy stood, excused himself from the table and exited the Hall.
Okay, this was so it.
Abandoning his breakfast, Harry hastily muttered an excuse and pushed through the doors, following the echoing taps of expensive shoes on stone floor. As Malfoy's slender frame came into view, Harry sped up his pace and called out, "Malfoy!"
Malfoy ignored him.
Harry raised his voice.
"Malfoy!"
It was so loud that Malfoy had to have heard him and the irrational anger that had seeped into his tone.
Without turning around, Malfoy said, "Yes, Potter?" Well, maybe it was more of a purr, but Harry definitely did not care whether Malfoy purred it like a jungle cat or said it, because it was definitely not having any effect on him whatsoever.
Then suddenly Harry snapped. With one rough movement, he grabbed Malfoy's shoulder, turning him around and gave him a forceful push so that he was effectively pinned to the wall.
His green eyes narrowed and he hissed at him. "Malfoy! What is wrong with you? Why were you staring at me all through breakfast, hmm? You just sit there and stare and smirk whenever I look up. It's bloody unnerving and then you - you... And then – "
— And then Malfoy's free arm pushed him backwards so that he was the one slammed against the stone wall, and Malfoy's lips were pressed against his wet, hot and firm but pliant. Teeth clacked against his and the open-mouthed possessiveness of the kiss was startling. His brain shut down completely and a jolt shot down his spine right down to his feet, making his toes curl. All he could seem to do was feel. Feel a tongue moving against his, faster and faster, none too gently; feel Malfoy's mouth sucking and biting and bright lights exploding on the back of his eyelids; feel Malfoy's hand doing wicked things to him, causing sensations so pleasurable it almost hurt. It was suddenly like his entire sense of taste was being stolen then returned, one by one, from the very first chocolate he'd ever had right up to the strawberries Malfoy just ate, sweet and tangy and wonderful.
Without warning, that warm mouth was pulled forcefully from his and a strangled moan of protest came somewhere deep from the back of his throat, even as Harry tried to quash it down.
Malfoy's grin was lascivious and appealing and then his body was no longer sinfully pressed against Harry's and when he stalked down the hallway (Harry was not looking at his arse), his body heat lingering tauntingly around him.
And when coherent thought returned, Harry cursed a tad violently as he looked at his watch.
There was no time for a cold shower before classes.
A/N: Feedback would be very much appreciated.