Pillow Talk
by T. W. Shadows
Hoping for a bit of deserved rest, something he hadn't gotten in a long while, Harry collapsed onto his dormitory bed, every muscle in his body aching. All the work that had yet to be done, all the Quidditch practices that he hadn't yet played seemed too painful to think about. As he laid he his head on what he thought was his pillow--
"Ow, Potter. Watch where you put that big head, eh?" a menacingly haughty voice erupted from the linen and comforters of Harry's bed. Harry looked at Draco Malfoy quizzically, and then sighed back into his quilt.
Draco cocked a silvery eyebrow, that smirk still plastered to his face. "Rough day at work, sweetie?" he said in a high pitched voice. All that was missing was the apple pie on the windowsill and an apron, mused Harry.
"Come off it, Malfoy. I need a bit of allievation." Harry rubbed his sweaty head with a sweaty hand and tried to nugde Draco off his bed with his knee, but it didn't quite work.
Hedwig the Owl pecked her cage slightly at this scene, but she didn't find her owner in any mortal danger, so she dropped her head under her wing and fell fast asleep.
"Now, now, Potter. My feelings are hurt. Are you saying I can't relieve you of some school-related stress?" Malfoy pouted, running a hand up Harry's back.
"Not to be blunt, but yes, that's exactly what I'm saying," Harry said, now moving his head to the other side. His shoulder began to become numb, and then he realized that Draco was giving him a massage.
Malfoy's hands were hot and clammy on Harry's back, but he didn't mind. It was contact, contact with something other then a quill or a broomstick, and for that Harry was eternally grateful. Draco's hands worked heedlessly, moving from shoulder blades to the small of Harry's back. Harry quickly shivered.
"You know, I should make a career out of this," Draco said, bored. "You seem to be enjoying it."
Harry's eyes rolled over in pure bliss. "This is better then sex,"
"Oh, Potter. Believe me, my massaging skills are nothing compared to my sexual techniques."
Harry made a mental note to be so stressed out tomorrow, that Draco would have been happy to oblige his expertise on the latter.
by T. W. Shadows
Hoping for a bit of deserved rest, something he hadn't gotten in a long while, Harry collapsed onto his dormitory bed, every muscle in his body aching. All the work that had yet to be done, all the Quidditch practices that he hadn't yet played seemed too painful to think about. As he laid he his head on what he thought was his pillow--
"Ow, Potter. Watch where you put that big head, eh?" a menacingly haughty voice erupted from the linen and comforters of Harry's bed. Harry looked at Draco Malfoy quizzically, and then sighed back into his quilt.
Draco cocked a silvery eyebrow, that smirk still plastered to his face. "Rough day at work, sweetie?" he said in a high pitched voice. All that was missing was the apple pie on the windowsill and an apron, mused Harry.
"Come off it, Malfoy. I need a bit of allievation." Harry rubbed his sweaty head with a sweaty hand and tried to nugde Draco off his bed with his knee, but it didn't quite work.
Hedwig the Owl pecked her cage slightly at this scene, but she didn't find her owner in any mortal danger, so she dropped her head under her wing and fell fast asleep.
"Now, now, Potter. My feelings are hurt. Are you saying I can't relieve you of some school-related stress?" Malfoy pouted, running a hand up Harry's back.
"Not to be blunt, but yes, that's exactly what I'm saying," Harry said, now moving his head to the other side. His shoulder began to become numb, and then he realized that Draco was giving him a massage.
Malfoy's hands were hot and clammy on Harry's back, but he didn't mind. It was contact, contact with something other then a quill or a broomstick, and for that Harry was eternally grateful. Draco's hands worked heedlessly, moving from shoulder blades to the small of Harry's back. Harry quickly shivered.
"You know, I should make a career out of this," Draco said, bored. "You seem to be enjoying it."
Harry's eyes rolled over in pure bliss. "This is better then sex,"
"Oh, Potter. Believe me, my massaging skills are nothing compared to my sexual techniques."
Harry made a mental note to be so stressed out tomorrow, that Draco would have been happy to oblige his expertise on the latter.