Warning. Boy love. Don't like it, don't read it.
Disclaimer. All characters belong to J.K. Rowling.
.x.
The moonless night wrapped itself around the teen who was sitting on a lonely stone bench, hidden from view by the intricate wave the ivy made on its' own free will, which never failed to amaze the blond. Not that this was his first midnight venture into the gardens surrounding Hogwarts, nor would it be his last.
He took a deep breath, lifting his face to the star-speckled heavens that watched over him, exhaling with a flustered sigh. Everything in his life was going as it should, minus the fact that his father was on the run once more after escaping Azkaban, and his second cousin, who the Boy Who Lived laid claim to as a godfather, was dead, leaving Potter in a state of wraithlike existence.
Bickering with the Gryffindor had lost its' fun now that the dark-haired boy just stared at Draco with those large green eyes that resembled what the blond had always imagined a victim of the Dementor's Kiss would possess.
Closing his stormy grey eyes, and letting the thoughts melt into each other, pooling in the bottom of his skull to be dealt with later, the Malfoy teen sighed again. All around him, the night was alive with soft animal chatter and whistles, the rustle of leaves in the barely there spring breeze, and the sound of his lungs taking in and expelling oxygen just as they had for the previous sixteen years.
He was about to stand and return to his dorm when a pair of hands landed on his shoulders, keeping him firmly in place. Before he could even form a protest, a pair of warm lips descended upon his, sending a sharp jolt of something indescribable down his spine.
This mouth wasn't familiar, it didn't belong to Blaise or any of the other boys who clung to their own kind and found Draco a prize worth making a fool of themselves for. The hot tongue that was pressing insistently against the slight part of his lips hadn't ventured there before; hence causing the blond's eyes to fly open.
Nothing was revealed since the moon was in hiding and the stranger seemed to be wrapped in the blackest velvet that the dragon child had ever laid eyes upon. Yet still, he didn't pull away, his mouth even opened for the slick tongue, a soft moan escaping as it met his own with a gentle caress. Calloused hands came up, cupping the pale boy's face tenderly as the kiss deepened further.
And all too soon, it was over, both boys gasping for the air their lungs so desperately needed. Draco reached out for the cloak the other teen was wrapped in, wanting to see the face of the one who had set his little world ablaze. But the stranger stepped out of reach, waggling a finger at the blond before turning on his heel, and disappearing into the night.
Emerald flashed at the Malfoy heir for just a moment, and he swore the face those eyes belonged to was the perfect shade of tan that set off those orbs like jewels and complimented dark unruly locks that curled slightly at the ends. It took him a full five minutes to remember how to breathe properly, his eyes refusing to focus.
He had never felt so discombobulated in his life; he was at loose ends and was wondering if Harry was planning on coming to pick up the pieces any time soon.