Title: Breathless

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, anymore than I own the moon.

Boot Camp: OTP Boot Camp.

A/N: This was written for the OTP Boot Camp on the HPFC forum.

Prompt: Breathless

Harry was breathless.

Absolutely, completely, utterly over-the-moon breathless.

And the day had started off so ordinary...

"Bloody Ferret's bloody looking over here again," Ron groused.

Harry looked up - and sure enough, Draco Malfoy was glaring at him. He sighed and returned to his breakfast, albeit with a little less of an appetite.

"Are you sure you two are friends now, mate? He looks like he wants to hex you." Ron's voice was hopeful. He hadn't taken it very well when Harry had announced that he was going to be friends with Malfoy, and no; he was not under Imperius, or any other spell, or a potion, or being blackmailed, thankyouverymuch.

Ron's tantrum had lasted days.

"What the bloody hell's his problem, anyway?"

"Ron!" Harry slammed his fork down on the table. "Leave off Malfoy, alright?"

"Yeah," echoed Ginny, all but crawling into his lap. "He's Harry's friend, Ron."

Harry frowned but said nothing - she was taking his side, after all - and simply scooted over, giving her more room. She followed him.

It was a game they played at every meal; one he didn't know the rules to, hadn't signed up for, and desperately wished he knew how to quit.

He sighed and resigned himself to a lapful of Ginny - it was either that, or give Seamus a lapful of Harry, and he thought Dean might take exception to that.

Their other friends hadn't noticed, of course. Harry, with his senses honed by his still-recent bout of self-discovery, had spotted the shift in the relationship between the two young men, but kept it to himself. They were obviously trying to be discreet.

He was happy for them. If only his own love-life were so lucky.

Speaking of... he looked up, casually flicking his eyes over to the Slytherin table.

Malfoy was staring at him again - and this time he looked murderous.

Harry blinked. His confidence from the previous night's stargazing session vanished. He must have done something for the blond to look at him like that, whatever his friend said to the contrary.

He just had to figure out what it was.

The rest of the day passed normally.

Harry went to class.

He joked and laughed with Ron and Hermione.

He passed Malfoy in the halls, smiled, nodded, and greeted him. Malfoy just scowled and kept walking.

That was new. Normally Malfoy would smirk at him and reply, "Potter," and if they had time between classes they might chat for a bit. But today Malfoy just scowled.

Harry worried about it the rest of the day. He fumbled his way through the rest of his classes, and that night he stared up at his canopy, wondering just what he'd done wrong.

When it was time, he grabbed his cloak and headed out to meet Malfoy in their usual spot.

He let out a small sigh of relief when he saw Malfoy was already there. He'd been half afraid his friend wouldn't show up, after his odd behavior today. The blond was staring at the stars, a pensive look on his face.

"Hey," Harry said as he spread his cloak and flopped down on it.

"Hey yourself," replied Malfoy.

Harry smiled. Things were back to normal.

"So, I noticed you were getting pretty cosy with the Weaselette today," Malfoy said casually.

Harry quieted the part of his mind that rejoiced, thinking maybe Malfoy had been jealous. It wasn't like that. Still, he didn't want Malfoy getting the wrong idea. He let out a sigh.

"She won't stop." He frowned. "I don't know how to make her give up."

"I see," Malfoy murmured noncommittally.

"How was your day?"

"Long." Malfoy chuckled. "Too fucking long."

It was his new favourite word, "fucking". He said it infuriated his father.

They lay in silence for a while, just enjoying each other's company.

Harry sneaked covert glances at Malfoy as the other boy watched the stars. Finally, Malfoy caught him looking. He rolled his eyes.

"You're such a stupid speccy git," Malfoy said, and suddenly his soft lips were pressed against Harry's.

Malfoy. Was. Kissing. Him.

Harry brain stopped working.

He gasped, and Malfoy's tongue darted out, swiping inside his mouth, tasting him. Harry moaned and responded, his tongue twining around the blond's.

Their tongues danced together for a few moments, and Harry's heart – no, his whole body, was singing a Hallelujah chorus.

Because Malfoy. Was. Kissing,. Him.

Him. Harry Potter. He was being kissed by Draco Malfoy.

Harry wondered if this was a dream, a beautiful fantasy conjured by his subconscious. He didn't care. He didn't want it to stop.

All too soon, it did. Malfoy pulled away, and Harry let out an involuntary whimper as he broke the kiss.

Malfoy smirked at him.

"What was that for?" Harry asked softly.

"I fancy you, too, idiot." And Malfoy's mouth curved into a genuine smile.

Harry couldn't speak.

He was breathless.