What has my life come to?

. . .

The shut of the door was loud, so loud it could have woken up the whole of Hogwarts. Fortunately, he wasn't a young teen attending the school anymore.

"Mmph!"

Harry struggled against Malfoy's strong grip on his forearms as the man kissed him harshly.

He gasped for air, and the other left his mouth, but only for a second before returning.

Again, he struggled against him, but Malfoy's force pushed him down, and quite literally.

Harry began to lean backwards, his knees bending as his body lowered and Draco overpowered him.

His arms quickly maneuvered around Harry's waist, turning his own head to kiss the man deeply as he could.

Harry gave an exasperated glance towards Malfoy, whose eyes were shut tight in passion.

I'll roll along with it this time . . . Y'know what? I want all of it.

With his arms now free, he wrapped them around Malfoy's neck, accepting the rushed, needy kiss.

"Are you sure?" Malfoy's movements paused.

"Mm, I did kiss back, y'know." muttered Harry as Malfoy inched his hand near his ass. "Nuh-uh, bed. Now."

At first, it was with a glazed look that he stared at him before sarcastically saying, "Way to ruin the mood, Potter."

"Thought you'd be courteous enough to do it on the bed—" more kissing.

Harry inwardly sighed before he let Malfoy walk him backwards to the bed, which luckily had a low footboard so he could land roughly—the prat was being a prat—on it.

"Ah!"

Unconsciously, he lifted his hand to his mouth, muffling his soft moans as Malfoy flicked at his nipples with his tongue, sucking and biting them.

"You . . . When did you . . . my shirt, mm, ah!"

The stimulation was getting too much for him, and he quickly shoved Malfoy away.

"Almost there?" he asked slyly, combing his now messed up blond hair with his slender fingers. Small droplets had already appeared around his forehead and neck, his neat dress shirt now wrinkled and showing a pale and smooth yet nicely-sculpted chest.

Harry turned away as if to hide his flushed face, he couldn't help but admit that the whole image was too sexy to be allowed to exist.

"Not all, and I bet you wouldn't last even a minute." he replied, but in his opinion, even he himself sounded a little dumb.

"You seem to be harder than a rock, though?" He pressed his fingertips onto Harry's crotch, who released a choked-back whimper.

"Speak for yourself," he said in a strained voice, one hand covering a part of his face while another pointed at the large . . . bulge under his slacks.

Those trousers seem like they'll rip there any second from even the smallest movement.

For a moment, he swore there was a light blush on the other's face, and he smirked.

He lifted up his foot gently and proceeded to push it against Malfoy's crotch.

"What're you doing? Trying to give me a foot fetish?"

The man had said that mockingly, but Harry knew better.

He's definitely getting off of this . . . I'll tease him about this for eternity . . .

Malfoy closed his eyes, his face crumbling into an expression of restrained pleasure.

Harry's eyes widened as he was startled by the abrupt jerking of his leg.

He yelped as Malfoy rose up—Harry's leg in his grip—and landed on top of him.

"Fine, if you want to play games," he smiled devilishly as he lifted Harry's chin, "then we'll play games."

"I-it was only to poke fun at you, don't take it so seriously."

Harry nervously glanced around, seemingly looking for anything and nothing. He sighed inwardly. Another bad decision he didn't want to admit to that led him to this outcome.

With the rustling sound of clothing, Harry pants and undergarments were already off, laying on the floor in a little pile.

The chilly air tickled his skin, his body sensitive to the cool touch.