sorry kids, didn't mean to leave you out in the dark for so long. i'd originally planned on posting this on wednesday or so; things happen though, and therefore i'm a bit late.
anyway, here you are. thanks to all you reviewers, lots and lots of thanks! and...without further ado...on to the snogging!
* * *
Draco and I worked our way up the stairs 'til we finally reached the 6th year boy's dorm; I both dreaded and looked forward to next year, since we'd be on the topmost level of the tower. The hike up/down was a real pain sometimes (particularly when you'd not gotten used to it yet and your legs were quivering and painful by the time you got there) but the view became more spectacular with each move upwards, as did the luxury of the rooms. By this point we'd pretty much ended up with separate rooms, really something like a cubicle, each bed separated from the next by ceiling-high walls, like a sort of dressing-room set-up. A bit away from the foot of each bed the enclosing side walls ended, opening onto a common windowed area. Each of us had curtains at the foot of our bed to close off our own almost-room. I led Draco to mine.
:Nice posters.:
:Shut up. They were the best I could find. And I like them.: I'd put up several Quidditch posters, mostly because I liked to study the moves the players made as they swooped around, and two large Rackham prints that I particularly loved. Especially as they didn't move. It reminded me of my Muggle childhood.
:I wasn't being sarcastic, Harry.:
:...Oh. Sorry.:
Draco sat down on the foot of my bed. I closed the curtains at the opening to my cubicle, then sprawled amongst the pillows on my bed. I still felt just a bit too exposed, and jumped up again to close the curtains 'round the bed as well. Then I flopped down against my pillows again.
:So.:
:Yeah.:
:You said you wanted to—:
:I wanted to say—:
:Er.:
:Yeah.:
I examined my hands like I'd never seen them before; Draco found the inside of my bed curtains suddenly of immense interest.
I snapped first, perhaps because by this point I had very little dignity left with which to get my ego involved. :You said you felt like something was bleeding inside you when I wasn't present in your mind and I feel the same way but I can't make myself think it's a bad thing because it feels so damned right when we're linked.:
:Er. Yes.: Draco was still examining the nap of the velvet curtains intently.
:And I can't even make myself wish that this thing with us would end because I'm so fucking lonely when you're not THERE in my head and I don't know what to do...: I couldn't seem to shut up once I'd started. Perhaps I'd had one too many Butterbeers.
:Harry. Shut up.: I shut my mouth with an audible click and dragged my gaze from the bedspread up to Draco's eyes. They were heavy-lidded, opaque; entrancing. I couldn't look away.
:Pay attention.: And Draco opened himself to me fully for the first time.
I saw/felt/knew how very, very lonely he was. How this unexpected bond between us had hit him like a physical blow, right where he was most vulnerable. How my anger and disapproval of his beliefs had sliced directly into his most tender and fearful insecurities. How he'd struck out again and again because he'd never known anything else that prevented the world from striking him first. How he'd been taught from birth that he was superior, and reprimanded when he didn't behave accordingly. How he'd wanted my acceptance, my reciprocation of friendship from the beginning, and how hurt he'd been when I'd turned him away. How desperately he needed this thing between us, how much he needed me, how much he needed my assurances that he was worth more than the dust under my feet.
An unknown length of time later I dragged myself out of his mind, shaking and aching with empathy.
Finally I managed to focus enough to say something to him. :You didn't need to do that...you could have just told me...:
:Would you have understood, really understood?: He hadn't moved since he'd let me in, except to drop his eyes to his clasped hands.
:...Probably not.:
We sat silent again for a while. The silence first weighed upon my chest, then tightened around my temples, then burned on every inch of my skin like I'd been dropped into a vat of molten steel.
Again I broke first.
"Come here, Draco." His eyes flicked up to mine wildly when I spoke out loud; then he closed them; then obeyed me. I'd never expected obedience from him, not at all.
He crawled up to me; I shoved back the covers, pulled his robe off over his head, kicked off my shoes and tugged his away, hardly hearing them thud against the floor, and quenched the light with one wave of my hand. Realised I'd forgotten to take off my glasses, swore softly, and put them on the bedside table before I finally reached for him.
He didn't resist at all as I pulled him into bed with me and dragged the covers over us both.
He didn't even resist when I did nothing more than snuggle up against him and enfold him in my arms.
Shortly, we'd both fallen asleep.
* * *
Our dreams mingled as we'd both grown to expect by now. This time there weren't any real surprises when it came to content; we found ourselves simply travelling hand-in-hand through our classes. It was truly weird to be hand-in-hand with someone who was experiencing a completely different class than you were in; particularly when you knew you were geographically as far away from them as the castle permitted. And I spared just a moment to point out that we obviously had no lives since we were dreaming about GOING TO CLASSES. Ugh. But we were both reassured anyway. The dreams were completely non-threatening, particularly as whenever the hint of trouble presented itself we defended each other. The whole thing was actually soothing.
* * *
The next morning we were woken by Ron's shouting.
Fortunately, he hadn't discovered us. He was shouting about Pigwidgeon casting a mute on his History of Magic essay. Considering that 3 feet of parchment was a lot to recopy, I understood his distress, but was (I think understandably) more concerned with our current situation.
Draco roused more slowly than I, and snuggled back into my shoulder immediately after he'd sat up outright, shocked into instinctive response by Ron's vituperous volume. :Don't...have...t'get up...'s Saturday.:
:Yes, love, but we're bound to be disturbed if we don't get up now. Ron usually gets me up when he's ready to go to breakfast.:
:Don't...care. Sleeeeeepy.:
And his limp warmth was so sweet against me that I didn't argue further. We both went back to sleep.
* * *
In fact, Ron didn't wake me up that morning; nor that late morning, actually. I finally woke up irreversibly around eleven; Draco was still sleeping, half-sprawled over me, wrapped in my arms. I truly hate sleeping in my clothing, and the folds of my jeans and t-shirt aggravated me horribly as I lay there, digging into my flesh and wrapping 'round me in a nastily claustrophobic way, but extending the moment outweighed any discomfort I was in.
:...So take off your clothes, silly.:
I'd not had any clue that Draco'd woken up, and I started when I heard him. :But then I'd be—and then we'd have to stay for—or—: I was unprepared to deal with Draco's diamond-edged intellect here in this lazy, comfortable moment, and I let him see that.
:So you'd be—and we'd stay for—or—: He chuckled silently. :So be it. You're not comfortable, and I'm comfortable enough I'd do about anything not to have to get up yet. Get naked, if that'll make you feel better. I'm not averse to the idea.:
So I did. Even though I wasn't really comfortable with the idea. I kept my back to him the whole time I was undressing, then slid back into bed as quickly and modestly as I could. He laughed again mentally, and wrapped himself around me as soon as I'd settled back into the sheets.
I was hyperaware of his arm curling over my ribs, and his hand spread wide and pressed against my chest, holding me against him firmly. I didn't actually object to any of it, but I was terrified that he'd sense my willingness for—whatever he offered really—and be disgusted.
:Disgusted by you, Harry? Never.: I suddenly realised his hand was slowly stroking the skin of my torso from throat to navel...and I liked it.
:Are you doing this to keep us from having to get up yet?: I asked him. I liked this sensation, yes, but I'd rather have had nothing, or a rejection, rather than let myself go into this and find later he'd not meant it.
:Maybe...but not really. Not really.:
:Draco.: I rolled over to look deeply into his still-sleepy eyes. :What are you doing?:
:...I'm seducing you, Harry. Do you have a problem with this?:
I couldn't resist those half-lidded silver eyes. —So grey, like low clouds on a stormy day, like turbulent waters.— I closed my eyes.
:No, Draco. I don't.:
He touched me freely after my admission; running his fingertips lightly up over the heaving ridges of my ribcage, pausing (for an infinitely long moment; I was desperate to feel his touch again) to scoop up his wand and cast a Silencing Charm on the four 'walls' around us. (Curtains can be made to behave as a wall would in a Silencing Charm, if one has enough determination. He clearly did.)
He dropped his wand again to drag his fingertips slowly from my knee up my inner thigh. I moaned, and was embarrassed at my wanton response even as I made the sound.
:Really, Harry, do you mind this? ...Because I don't. I want this. But not if you don't.:
I didn't even have to think about it. :No. I don't mind. I want it. I've wanted it for a long, long time.:
He didn't hesitate any further. I barely had time to gasp as he began to demonstrate his ownership of my body.
(A/N: just for kickflaw, insert much wild monkey sex here)