Chapter Nine: They Fancy Malfoy, Don't They?
A few minutes after Hermione left, Ron appeared at the door, looking at Harry questioningly.
"Harry," he started, "can we talk?"
"Oh, Ron - of course."
Ron smiled shyly and sat next to Harry on the bed. "Harry, mate, I feel like I never see you anymore. And what's with all this secretive talking with Hermione? Harry," Ron asked seriously, "does she want to break up with me?"
"Oh, no Ron! That's not it at all. Don't worry about Hermione - she loves you. We've been talking about a problem I have."
"One you couldn't talk to me about?" Ron looked disappointed and slightly betrayed.
"It's just. not the kind of thing I thought I could talk to you about."
"What could there possibly be that you couldn't talk to me about?" Ron practically whimpered.
"It's just -" Harry paused and thought about how to put it, " it was about sex, and I really needed to talk to a girl."
"What about sex could you not ask me?"
Harry swallowed hard. "It was about boys."
"Of course it was about boys, Harry!" Ron laughed at him. "We are boys. And I could have told you about being with Hermione just as easily as she could have told you about being with me."
"You don't understand, Ron. I didn't want to talk about being a boy, I wanted to talk about being with a boy."
"What? Oh. OH." Realization hit Ron and he took a moment to think about the impact of Harry's words. "Well, you still could have spoken to me." He shrugged. "You know perfectly well that I'm no angel - or prude."
Suddenly it dawned on Harry. How could he have been so stupid, forgetting?
"Ron?" Harry asked, peering nervously over the rim of his glasses. Ron nodded for him to go on. "You know your. fetish?"
"Uh, yeah," Ron answered awkwardly, wishing he hadn't let his dildo fascination slip to Harry.
"Have you.?" Harry trailed off, only half sure what he was asking.
Ron looked down at his hands and grinned sheepishly, "I, uh... yeah."
"Really? Wow. Um, what was it like?"
"It's different, you know, but kind of erotic."
"Erotic? What did Hermione think?" Harry tried prompting Ron with a Hermione reference, to see if they were talking about the same thing.
"Hermione? Well, we haven't actually gone that far. I used them. Personally."
"Oh," Harry paused. "Have you ever thought that you might be... gay?"
"Yeah, once or twice."
"Do you think you are?"
"Maybe sometimes. I love Hermione, but I could do that too. Sometimes, that is."
"Oh."
"Harry," Ron looked worried for a moment, "You don't want to.?"
"With you? No!"
"Well, thanks!" Ron pouted and looked put off.
"I didn't mean it like that, Ron," Harry threw him a sympathetic look. "It's just. that I like someone else."
"Really? Who?"
"I don't think I want to tell you." Harry looked away from Ron.
"Come on, Harry - I'm your best friend!" Ron pleaded with him.
"Yes, but I don't think you'll be at all happy about it."
"How bad could it be? As long as it's not Neville or Malfoy."
Harry averted his eyes.
"You like Neville! Harry, he's not even gay! Of all the Gryffindor boys, you have to pick the one who isn't - "
"Ron." Harry cut him off. "Calm down. I don't like Neville like that."
"Thank God! But who." Ron trailed off. After a moment's thought, he narrowed his eyes and glared at him. "*Harry*."
Harry shifted nervously and peered at his bed curtains. After a moment, he stole a glance at Ron, who was staring at him fixedly with his eyes narrowed.
"Fine!" Harry screeched "Malfoy, I like Malfoy!" he exclaimed, throwing his arms up in defeat.
"Malfoy?" Ron questioned, though he had been half expecting the answer. "You've got to be kidding me! Harry, he's an evil sodding git!"
"I know! It's just - I can't help it!"
Ron didn't even break stride. "I mean, sure, he's sexy, but also EVIL!"
Harry gaped at his best friend. "You think he's sexy?"
"I'm not blind, Harry. Even Hermione thinks so."
Silence fell between them.
Harry figured he'd found a good explanation for his fancying Malfoy - everyone seemed to.
"Harry?" Ron practically whispered. "Have you. done anything with him?"
"No!" Harry exclaimed instinctively. "Well, yes." Harry peered at his feet. "I've kissed him."
"Kissed him?"
"And gave him a hand job."
"You gave Draco Malfoy a hand job? Are you mad?"
"No, I - well, maybe. I was just so confused. I thought I might be gay. Then I thought I might fancy Malfoy. Or the other way around, I don't know. And Hermione suggested that I kiss him, so I did and it was wonderful and horrible all at the same time, but he looked so freaked out and I panicked and did a memory charm, but then he remembered and attacked me in the bathroom and before I knew it I was naked and he had his hands on me, but then we fought and I was so angry, so I took his pants off and just. went at it. As revenge."
"You gave Malfoy a hand job as revenge?"
"Well, it's not like he. you know! He ran out before I could - finish him off."
"Oh yeah - then it doesn't count!" Ron bantered sarcastically and rolled his eyes. "Harry, what were you thinking? That's a rather dramatic way to figure out if you're gay."
"I didn't know what else to do and Hermione -"
"- Thought she would play matchmaker and set you up with Malfoy? Alright - she's mad. Everyone around me is mad!"
Harry threw Ron a scathing look.
"Alright," he conceded, "I'm done. But why Malfoy, Harry? You could have come to Seamus or Dean, or me, even."
"You? You would have helped me?"
"Hell yes, Harry! Anything would have been better than your wanking Draco Malfoy."
"Ron!"
"Sorry, mate, but that is just wrong. And I thought you said that the point was to kiss him and find out if you're gay. I could have helped you out with that."
"Really?"
"Yeah, I guess," Ron shrugged. "I've only ever snogged Hermione, might as well try it with a boy. At least that might help me understand Percy a bit more."
"Percy?"
"Yeah, he's gay. Came out to the family last year."
"But he had a girlfriend!"
"He was in denial, I guess. And he didn't have a Draco Malfoy handy, so who can blame him?" Ron smirked.
"Ron!" Harry shrieked at his laughing friend. He pouted. "You're never going to let this go, are you?"
Ron grinned. "Nope."
Harry sat in thought for a moment. "Ron? Do you like, um, using the um, like." he drifted off awkwardly.
"Uh, yeah," Ron blushed.
"How did you know? You've never been with a boy. I just. I'm curious, I guess."
"I found Percy's supply of Playwitch once. Let's just say that they're very educational."
"And Hermione doesn't know?"
"I don't really know how to tell her. It's not like I want to be with guys, it's just that I like a little something... extra. And we haven't done enough for me to bring it up."
"Wow. But she's given you blow jobs?"
"Yes, and very well."
"Unfortunately she told me that. She wants me to do the same for Malfoy."
"Blow Malfoy? Ugh. That's just wrong."
"That's what I think!"
"Well, you have done a lot with him though. And I'm sure he's more pleasant when he's speechless."
"True."
"Too much information, Harry!"
"But you said! Never mind."
"Okay."
"Yea."
"Right."
Ron shot Harry a worrying glance. "This is getting weird, isn't it?"
"Oh yeah."
"Well, Harry, mate - you know you can talk to me whenever you need anything. I'll try to be, uh, understanding. And if I'm not, Hermione will make me be anyway."
"Yeah. Um, thanks Ron."
Ron smiled sheepishly at him and left the room.
"I hate my life." Harry flopped down into his duvet and covered his head with a pillow.
**
Friday. Potions Class. Again.
It was becoming Harry and Malfoy's habitual meeting place. Well, it was the place where they chose to pass each other 'subtle' messages, at least. Harry knew that he had to get Malfoy somewhere private so he could give him a blowjob. Sounded simple enough, but he had no idea how to do it. Malfoy was still considerably peeved over what had happened in the Prefects' bathroom on Monday, apparently. He blatantly ignored Harry in both Transfiguration and Charms; he even refrained from sniping at him and delegating Crabbe and Goyle to threaten Harry or his friends.
Harry was quite put out, really. Negative attention was better than no attention, after all. So, here he sat in Potions again, watching the back of Malfoy's head. He really did have pretty hair. If only he didn't gel it so much. Could that really be his natural color? Maybe -
Damn it. Snape.
"Considering your abysmal performance in my class," Professor Snape droned at Harry, "as well as the high likelihood of your failing your Potions NEWT, Potter, I suggest you pay better attention to my lectures."
"Yes, Professor Snape," he mumbled.
Oooooh. Malfoy craned his neck a bit to look at the altercation. Perhaps irking Snape was the way to go. And he could get another detention, and maybe Malfoy would show up again...
"Class dismissed," Snape asserted.
Wow. Harry hadn't even realized that so much time had passed. He wouldn't be able to land detention unless he pulled off something big. Damn. Well, he'd probably have more privacy somewhere else anyway.
The class proceeded to collect their belongings and shuffle out of the classroom.
"Malfoy!" Harry called out to Draco in an insistent whisper before he could move away from his seat.
"What?" Draco snapped back, the word hanging from his lips like venom.
Snape, who was sorting through some 2nd years' scrolls on the properties and uses of Wolfsbane, glanced up at the two boys and arched an eyebrow in muted interest. This was the third time in so many weeks that the two antagonists had begun an altercation in his class. Surely their natural enmity had not stepped above its normal level?
"I - " Harry started before losing his nerve to be direct and commanding as he had planned. "I. I'm taking a bath tonight," he finished lamely.
Malfoy rolled his eyes. "Well, Potter, I'm pleased to know that you engage in semi-frequent acts of bathing. Now why the fuck are you telling *me*?"
"Oh," Harry stammered as he glanced at his feet, "I just thought you might like to know. You know, um, in case you need to, um, use the Prefects' bathroom."
Draco's eyes flared. "*You're* not even supposed to use the Prefects' bathroom, Potter!"
"Oh, well, yes - but still. I'll be there. Tonight."
"You're fucking nutters, Scarhead," Draco shook his head in disdain as he picked up his bag and strode away from Harry.
**
That night, around nine o'clock, Draco strolled into the Prefects bathroom.
"Well, well, well Potter," Draco drawled, "fancy finding you here. And here I thought your cryptic little message was all in an effort to bed me, but you're actually bathing."
"It is a bathroom, Malfoy," Harry retorted, rolling his eyes.
"My bathroom, not yours, may I remind you?"
"I have every right to use this bathroom, Malfoy."
"Oh, really? Last I checked you weren't a Prefect. Nor are you Head Boy, as I am," he smirked.
"I might as well have been a Prefect, Malfoy. Extenuating circumstances are the only reason I wasn't."
"How delusional are you, Potter?"
"No, Malfoy. Dumbledore told me."
"What?" Draco raised his eyebrows amusedly. "That you were just too fragile to take on the responsibility, so he gave it to your impoverished, underdog friend?"
Harry didn't say anything.
"Wow, Potter. That's pathetic."
"Shut up, Malfoy."
"No, really - that's really, really sad." He was grinning. "You are truly pathetic. Dumbledore thinks you're too weak to handle a bit of hallway duty."
"That's not true!"
"It's what you just told me."
"Dumbledore didn't make me Prefect because I'd just seen Cedric Diggory die. Because Voldemort nearly killed me. Remember that, you prat?"
"Well, if that's the case, then you'll be relegated to shirking responsibility for life."
Harry narrowed his eyes. "Is there something you know that I don't, Malfoy? Voldemort's plans - something your father told you?"
"No, you git. It's actually rather common knowledge that Voldemort wants to kill you, and if he goes about it in the fashion that he has before, you'll be battling him for centuries."
"Very funny."
"No, I'm serious," Draco said in earnest as he nodded his head. "He's an idiot, so this could go on for quite sometime."
"Listen Malfoy, if you think that you can just bait me -"
"Dear God, Potter, you're quite the mood killer. I didn't come here to talk about Voldemort and the chip on your shoulder, I thought you wanted to shag."
"Excuse me?"
"That little message today in Potions? It's clear that you want to have your wicked little way with me," he grinned, "and who am I to deny you?"
"Déjà vu."
"Excuse me?"
"I think you've said that before and, if I recall, you couldn't follow through."
"You've got to be bloody kidding me, Potter."
"No, Malfoy, I'm not. You ran out of here like a little schoolgirl." Harry leaned close to Draco's ear until he could feel the Gryffindor's hot breath puffing against his skin. "I guess I got you a little too hot, huh?"
"Fuck you, Potter!"
"That could be arranged."
Draco started at his gaul. "What the fuck has gotten into you? You get within a twenty mile radius of this bloody bathroom and you turn into a slut."
"You like it."
"Ugh! Get off me, you freak!" Malfoy struggled against the onslaught of Harry's lips and arms. "I mean, ugh, no! You. you."
Harry abandoned Draco's mouth and kissed his way down his chest, unbuttoning Malfoy's shirt as he went. His agile fingers worked on the clasp of Draco's trousers.
"I, uh. uh..." he trailed off, falling into the sensation of Harry's tongue, which had found its way to tip of Draco's growing erection.
End Chapter Nine
A few minutes after Hermione left, Ron appeared at the door, looking at Harry questioningly.
"Harry," he started, "can we talk?"
"Oh, Ron - of course."
Ron smiled shyly and sat next to Harry on the bed. "Harry, mate, I feel like I never see you anymore. And what's with all this secretive talking with Hermione? Harry," Ron asked seriously, "does she want to break up with me?"
"Oh, no Ron! That's not it at all. Don't worry about Hermione - she loves you. We've been talking about a problem I have."
"One you couldn't talk to me about?" Ron looked disappointed and slightly betrayed.
"It's just. not the kind of thing I thought I could talk to you about."
"What could there possibly be that you couldn't talk to me about?" Ron practically whimpered.
"It's just -" Harry paused and thought about how to put it, " it was about sex, and I really needed to talk to a girl."
"What about sex could you not ask me?"
Harry swallowed hard. "It was about boys."
"Of course it was about boys, Harry!" Ron laughed at him. "We are boys. And I could have told you about being with Hermione just as easily as she could have told you about being with me."
"You don't understand, Ron. I didn't want to talk about being a boy, I wanted to talk about being with a boy."
"What? Oh. OH." Realization hit Ron and he took a moment to think about the impact of Harry's words. "Well, you still could have spoken to me." He shrugged. "You know perfectly well that I'm no angel - or prude."
Suddenly it dawned on Harry. How could he have been so stupid, forgetting?
"Ron?" Harry asked, peering nervously over the rim of his glasses. Ron nodded for him to go on. "You know your. fetish?"
"Uh, yeah," Ron answered awkwardly, wishing he hadn't let his dildo fascination slip to Harry.
"Have you.?" Harry trailed off, only half sure what he was asking.
Ron looked down at his hands and grinned sheepishly, "I, uh... yeah."
"Really? Wow. Um, what was it like?"
"It's different, you know, but kind of erotic."
"Erotic? What did Hermione think?" Harry tried prompting Ron with a Hermione reference, to see if they were talking about the same thing.
"Hermione? Well, we haven't actually gone that far. I used them. Personally."
"Oh," Harry paused. "Have you ever thought that you might be... gay?"
"Yeah, once or twice."
"Do you think you are?"
"Maybe sometimes. I love Hermione, but I could do that too. Sometimes, that is."
"Oh."
"Harry," Ron looked worried for a moment, "You don't want to.?"
"With you? No!"
"Well, thanks!" Ron pouted and looked put off.
"I didn't mean it like that, Ron," Harry threw him a sympathetic look. "It's just. that I like someone else."
"Really? Who?"
"I don't think I want to tell you." Harry looked away from Ron.
"Come on, Harry - I'm your best friend!" Ron pleaded with him.
"Yes, but I don't think you'll be at all happy about it."
"How bad could it be? As long as it's not Neville or Malfoy."
Harry averted his eyes.
"You like Neville! Harry, he's not even gay! Of all the Gryffindor boys, you have to pick the one who isn't - "
"Ron." Harry cut him off. "Calm down. I don't like Neville like that."
"Thank God! But who." Ron trailed off. After a moment's thought, he narrowed his eyes and glared at him. "*Harry*."
Harry shifted nervously and peered at his bed curtains. After a moment, he stole a glance at Ron, who was staring at him fixedly with his eyes narrowed.
"Fine!" Harry screeched "Malfoy, I like Malfoy!" he exclaimed, throwing his arms up in defeat.
"Malfoy?" Ron questioned, though he had been half expecting the answer. "You've got to be kidding me! Harry, he's an evil sodding git!"
"I know! It's just - I can't help it!"
Ron didn't even break stride. "I mean, sure, he's sexy, but also EVIL!"
Harry gaped at his best friend. "You think he's sexy?"
"I'm not blind, Harry. Even Hermione thinks so."
Silence fell between them.
Harry figured he'd found a good explanation for his fancying Malfoy - everyone seemed to.
"Harry?" Ron practically whispered. "Have you. done anything with him?"
"No!" Harry exclaimed instinctively. "Well, yes." Harry peered at his feet. "I've kissed him."
"Kissed him?"
"And gave him a hand job."
"You gave Draco Malfoy a hand job? Are you mad?"
"No, I - well, maybe. I was just so confused. I thought I might be gay. Then I thought I might fancy Malfoy. Or the other way around, I don't know. And Hermione suggested that I kiss him, so I did and it was wonderful and horrible all at the same time, but he looked so freaked out and I panicked and did a memory charm, but then he remembered and attacked me in the bathroom and before I knew it I was naked and he had his hands on me, but then we fought and I was so angry, so I took his pants off and just. went at it. As revenge."
"You gave Malfoy a hand job as revenge?"
"Well, it's not like he. you know! He ran out before I could - finish him off."
"Oh yeah - then it doesn't count!" Ron bantered sarcastically and rolled his eyes. "Harry, what were you thinking? That's a rather dramatic way to figure out if you're gay."
"I didn't know what else to do and Hermione -"
"- Thought she would play matchmaker and set you up with Malfoy? Alright - she's mad. Everyone around me is mad!"
Harry threw Ron a scathing look.
"Alright," he conceded, "I'm done. But why Malfoy, Harry? You could have come to Seamus or Dean, or me, even."
"You? You would have helped me?"
"Hell yes, Harry! Anything would have been better than your wanking Draco Malfoy."
"Ron!"
"Sorry, mate, but that is just wrong. And I thought you said that the point was to kiss him and find out if you're gay. I could have helped you out with that."
"Really?"
"Yeah, I guess," Ron shrugged. "I've only ever snogged Hermione, might as well try it with a boy. At least that might help me understand Percy a bit more."
"Percy?"
"Yeah, he's gay. Came out to the family last year."
"But he had a girlfriend!"
"He was in denial, I guess. And he didn't have a Draco Malfoy handy, so who can blame him?" Ron smirked.
"Ron!" Harry shrieked at his laughing friend. He pouted. "You're never going to let this go, are you?"
Ron grinned. "Nope."
Harry sat in thought for a moment. "Ron? Do you like, um, using the um, like." he drifted off awkwardly.
"Uh, yeah," Ron blushed.
"How did you know? You've never been with a boy. I just. I'm curious, I guess."
"I found Percy's supply of Playwitch once. Let's just say that they're very educational."
"And Hermione doesn't know?"
"I don't really know how to tell her. It's not like I want to be with guys, it's just that I like a little something... extra. And we haven't done enough for me to bring it up."
"Wow. But she's given you blow jobs?"
"Yes, and very well."
"Unfortunately she told me that. She wants me to do the same for Malfoy."
"Blow Malfoy? Ugh. That's just wrong."
"That's what I think!"
"Well, you have done a lot with him though. And I'm sure he's more pleasant when he's speechless."
"True."
"Too much information, Harry!"
"But you said! Never mind."
"Okay."
"Yea."
"Right."
Ron shot Harry a worrying glance. "This is getting weird, isn't it?"
"Oh yeah."
"Well, Harry, mate - you know you can talk to me whenever you need anything. I'll try to be, uh, understanding. And if I'm not, Hermione will make me be anyway."
"Yeah. Um, thanks Ron."
Ron smiled sheepishly at him and left the room.
"I hate my life." Harry flopped down into his duvet and covered his head with a pillow.
**
Friday. Potions Class. Again.
It was becoming Harry and Malfoy's habitual meeting place. Well, it was the place where they chose to pass each other 'subtle' messages, at least. Harry knew that he had to get Malfoy somewhere private so he could give him a blowjob. Sounded simple enough, but he had no idea how to do it. Malfoy was still considerably peeved over what had happened in the Prefects' bathroom on Monday, apparently. He blatantly ignored Harry in both Transfiguration and Charms; he even refrained from sniping at him and delegating Crabbe and Goyle to threaten Harry or his friends.
Harry was quite put out, really. Negative attention was better than no attention, after all. So, here he sat in Potions again, watching the back of Malfoy's head. He really did have pretty hair. If only he didn't gel it so much. Could that really be his natural color? Maybe -
Damn it. Snape.
"Considering your abysmal performance in my class," Professor Snape droned at Harry, "as well as the high likelihood of your failing your Potions NEWT, Potter, I suggest you pay better attention to my lectures."
"Yes, Professor Snape," he mumbled.
Oooooh. Malfoy craned his neck a bit to look at the altercation. Perhaps irking Snape was the way to go. And he could get another detention, and maybe Malfoy would show up again...
"Class dismissed," Snape asserted.
Wow. Harry hadn't even realized that so much time had passed. He wouldn't be able to land detention unless he pulled off something big. Damn. Well, he'd probably have more privacy somewhere else anyway.
The class proceeded to collect their belongings and shuffle out of the classroom.
"Malfoy!" Harry called out to Draco in an insistent whisper before he could move away from his seat.
"What?" Draco snapped back, the word hanging from his lips like venom.
Snape, who was sorting through some 2nd years' scrolls on the properties and uses of Wolfsbane, glanced up at the two boys and arched an eyebrow in muted interest. This was the third time in so many weeks that the two antagonists had begun an altercation in his class. Surely their natural enmity had not stepped above its normal level?
"I - " Harry started before losing his nerve to be direct and commanding as he had planned. "I. I'm taking a bath tonight," he finished lamely.
Malfoy rolled his eyes. "Well, Potter, I'm pleased to know that you engage in semi-frequent acts of bathing. Now why the fuck are you telling *me*?"
"Oh," Harry stammered as he glanced at his feet, "I just thought you might like to know. You know, um, in case you need to, um, use the Prefects' bathroom."
Draco's eyes flared. "*You're* not even supposed to use the Prefects' bathroom, Potter!"
"Oh, well, yes - but still. I'll be there. Tonight."
"You're fucking nutters, Scarhead," Draco shook his head in disdain as he picked up his bag and strode away from Harry.
**
That night, around nine o'clock, Draco strolled into the Prefects bathroom.
"Well, well, well Potter," Draco drawled, "fancy finding you here. And here I thought your cryptic little message was all in an effort to bed me, but you're actually bathing."
"It is a bathroom, Malfoy," Harry retorted, rolling his eyes.
"My bathroom, not yours, may I remind you?"
"I have every right to use this bathroom, Malfoy."
"Oh, really? Last I checked you weren't a Prefect. Nor are you Head Boy, as I am," he smirked.
"I might as well have been a Prefect, Malfoy. Extenuating circumstances are the only reason I wasn't."
"How delusional are you, Potter?"
"No, Malfoy. Dumbledore told me."
"What?" Draco raised his eyebrows amusedly. "That you were just too fragile to take on the responsibility, so he gave it to your impoverished, underdog friend?"
Harry didn't say anything.
"Wow, Potter. That's pathetic."
"Shut up, Malfoy."
"No, really - that's really, really sad." He was grinning. "You are truly pathetic. Dumbledore thinks you're too weak to handle a bit of hallway duty."
"That's not true!"
"It's what you just told me."
"Dumbledore didn't make me Prefect because I'd just seen Cedric Diggory die. Because Voldemort nearly killed me. Remember that, you prat?"
"Well, if that's the case, then you'll be relegated to shirking responsibility for life."
Harry narrowed his eyes. "Is there something you know that I don't, Malfoy? Voldemort's plans - something your father told you?"
"No, you git. It's actually rather common knowledge that Voldemort wants to kill you, and if he goes about it in the fashion that he has before, you'll be battling him for centuries."
"Very funny."
"No, I'm serious," Draco said in earnest as he nodded his head. "He's an idiot, so this could go on for quite sometime."
"Listen Malfoy, if you think that you can just bait me -"
"Dear God, Potter, you're quite the mood killer. I didn't come here to talk about Voldemort and the chip on your shoulder, I thought you wanted to shag."
"Excuse me?"
"That little message today in Potions? It's clear that you want to have your wicked little way with me," he grinned, "and who am I to deny you?"
"Déjà vu."
"Excuse me?"
"I think you've said that before and, if I recall, you couldn't follow through."
"You've got to be bloody kidding me, Potter."
"No, Malfoy, I'm not. You ran out of here like a little schoolgirl." Harry leaned close to Draco's ear until he could feel the Gryffindor's hot breath puffing against his skin. "I guess I got you a little too hot, huh?"
"Fuck you, Potter!"
"That could be arranged."
Draco started at his gaul. "What the fuck has gotten into you? You get within a twenty mile radius of this bloody bathroom and you turn into a slut."
"You like it."
"Ugh! Get off me, you freak!" Malfoy struggled against the onslaught of Harry's lips and arms. "I mean, ugh, no! You. you."
Harry abandoned Draco's mouth and kissed his way down his chest, unbuttoning Malfoy's shirt as he went. His agile fingers worked on the clasp of Draco's trousers.
"I, uh. uh..." he trailed off, falling into the sensation of Harry's tongue, which had found its way to tip of Draco's growing erection.
End Chapter Nine
