"Virgin?"

"Virgin."

"You mean-"

"Yes."

"None at all?"

"None."

"Nothing else?"

"Well, some things."

"Some things?"

"Can we not talk about this?"

"Fine."

"So you've never been with anyone."

"Draco, listen to me. I. AM. A. VIRGIN. What is it that you don't understand?"

"The whole thing! Potter, this isn't normal. You're twenty-four years old!"

"Really? Funny, here I was forgetting my own age."

"I hate you."

Lies. All lies, Draco decided. Obviously, Potter was trying to pull his leg. A cheap trick, but not entirely beneath his dark-haired partner. In a teenage-rebellion-turned-horrible-career-move, Draco had decided on becoming an Auror after graduating Hogwarts. As luck would have it, he got landed with Potter. How utterly cliché.

Said partner was now fiddling with the papers on his desk, doing an admittedly believable job of acting the part of the innocent. Draco was not fooled for a second. Nope, not for a moment did he believe Potter. Lies.

"But why?"

"Why what?"

"How can you stand it? I hardly believe that your right hand is that good."

"Oh, Draco! Are we still on this?"

"Yes, we are still on this! It's a crime against nature for you to deny yourself that!"

"Honestly, Draco, it's not hurting you. It's not as if I haven't thought-"

"You've thought about it?"

"Well, of course I have, I may be a virgin but I'm still a man..."

"Who have you thought about?"

"What? Nobody!"

"I'm serious."

"Alright, Potter. Whatever you say."

He wants me. He wants me terribly, Draco thought smugly. After all, who wouldn't? Gorgeous looks, insane amounts of money, plus an arse that could (and did) stop traffic Really, he shouldn't be surprised.

This information, he realized quickly, must be used to his full advantage.

"Potter."

"What?"

"What are you doing tonight?"

"...Why do you ask?"

"Oh, stop looking so suspicious! I'm just asking!"

"Well, I'm just going home, actually. Thought I might catch up on some paperwork..."

"Rubbish. You're coming over to my place."

"I am?"

"Didn't I just say you were?"

"Well, yes, but you didn't really ask you just sort of-"

"Don't question me, Potter."

"Fine. What time?"

"Seven."

"Fine."

"Excellent. See you then!"

"And don't go thinking any... thoughts, Draco!"

"Can't hear you, already out the door!"

"...Damn it."

Harry rubbed his hands together in the cold outside of Malfoy's London flat. Draco had warded his fireplace in the Floo network so that only specific people could get in and out. Unfortunately, Harry was not one of these people, hence why he was now outside in the frigid December air, contemplating whether or not humans make serviceable Popsicles.

At last, the door opened, and Harry thought he might cry with relief. Draco stood there in black trousers and a fitted green sweater, leaning casually against the doorway as if he had been the one waiting for ten minutes. Damn the man.

"Well come in, Potter. Wouldn't want you catching your death out here."

Harry flipped Draco two choice fingers and made his way inside. Draco's flat was on the second floor: a grand apartment that put Harry's own to shame. Once in, Harry shrugged off his coat and scarf and gave them to his host.

"Nice place you've got here, Malfoy."

"Oh, enough with the formalities, Potter. Let's get on with the shagging."

Harry coughed and widened his eyes behind his glasses. "Shagging? You've got to be bloody kidding me, Draco. Is that why you invited me here? You little-"

"Potter, calm down," Draco laughed. "I was joking."

Harry flushed. He ran a hand through his forever-unruly black hair, and Draco took it as a signal to move on.

"Drinks?"

"God, yes."

A few (and by few you're reading many) drinks later, Draco found himself sprawled across his Italian leather couch with a very drunk Harry Potter.

"Harry."

"Mmm?"

"Haaaaa-rry."

"What, Draco?"

Later, Draco will argue that he was far too pissed to consider what he was doing.

"I think you're really cute, Harry."

Harry laughed.

"You think everyone is cute, Draco."

Draco pouted.

"Yes, but. You. Especially."

Harry wore a look that could have been curiosity or realization that he left the teakettle on at home.

"Oh. Well, thanks."

Draco shrugged. The two passed a few minutes, or lengthy hours, in companionable silence until Draco spoke again.

"Why are you a virgin, Harry?"

Harry hardly looked as uncomfortable talking about it as he did earlier that day. Draco thought it might have been the safe atmosphere. Or perhaps the copious amounts of alcohol in his system.

"I don't know. I've wanted to plenty of times but once I get there I just freak out or something. I don't know, it's stupid."

Draco snorted.

"'S not stupid, Potter. There's got to be a reason you 'freak out' and don't go through with it."

Harry was mulling things over in his head for a moment before he answered.

"I guess I'm just afraid I'll wake up and they won't be there."

Looking embarrassed at his revelation, Harry focused his eyes on his fidgeting hands, avoiding Draco's gaze.

"Harry."

"Mmm."

"Look at me."

Harry looked.

Draco hesitated.

"Would you like to spend the night?"

Harry's turn to hesitate.

"Do you mean..."

"Only if you want to."

"Will you be here tomorrow?"

"Yes."

And before either of them could think of a reason not to, Harry's lips were on Draco's and they were kissing: tender and rough and gentle and demanding all at the same time. Through the muzzy feeling of inebriation Harry felt his blood roil in a way that was only mildly familiar to him, while the same reaction was mirrored in Draco's body.

All too soon, however, the two sets of lips parted. The men rested their foreheads against one another, panting slightly in their excited states.

"Harry," Draco whispered against the other man's lips, "are you sure you want this?"

"Yes," came the breathy reply.

"Bedroom?"

"Yes."

Draco realized that his favorite part about Harry's body was his nipples. They begged to be licked and nibbled and pinched, and elicited the most delightful reactions from their owner.

Harry realized that his favorite part about Draco's body was his tongue. Oh, the things that man could do with his tongue. Should have been illegal for someone to be that talented.

They had completely shed every fabric of clothing, despite how much Harry had protested. Draco had been gentle, slowly easing Harry into it so not to scare him. Harry had been predictably nervous, opting to lie down while Draco investigated every inch of his skin.

Draco felt Harry tensing up as he licked around his navel, and lifted his head to peer up at his companion.

"Are you alright, Harry?"

Harry nodded.

"Relax."

"Okay."

"Do you want to stop?"

"No, please. Don't stop. Don't go."

"I'm not going anywhere."

Harry woke up with a mild throbbing behind his eyes and complete confusion as to where he was Of course, the latter was heightened by the fact that he seemed to have lost his glasses, and he felt around blindly for them.

It was then that his brain registered the fact that he was not alone. There was a light breath tickling his neck, and a warm body pressed flush against his.

"Harry," the body whispered sleepily.

Harry smiled. Images of the night previous flashed in his mind's eye, and he remembered where he was and whom he was with. His fingertips brushed against the cool metal frames of his glassed and he pulled them on.

By this time, Draco had woken up as well. He rubbed at his eyed and pouted grumpily at the early hour, and looked, at least to Harry, like an angry kitten.

Not that he would ever admit that to Draco.

"Good morning," Harry said cheerfully.

Draco grunted and settled his head back in the crook of Harry's neck.

Harry traced his fingers over Draco's arm and spoke quietly to him.

"Thank you."

"Mmm?"

"For last night. For everything."

"You don't have to thank me."

"I want to."

"Okay."

"Do you want me to go?"

Draco put his arm over Harry's stomach and gripped him tightly.

"I told you I wouldn't leave, Harry. You're not allowed to, either."

Harry chuckled.

"If you say so."

"I do."

"So, up for another round?"

Draco looked up and grinned.

"I've created a monster."