Disclaimer: The characters totally belong to JK Rowling; I don't make any profit from this.
Rating: NC-17
Word count: around 4200 for this chapter
Summary: After their previous heated encounters Harry and Draco meet again and manage to come to an arrangement.
Start at Chapter 1 if you've not already read the rest
I am so fucked, Draco sighed gloomily as he stirred his second cup of coffee. Normally Sunday mornings were one of his favourite parts of the week, a time for relaxing and indulging in some light hearted banter over a leisurely breakfast at the Slytherin table. Today he was anything but relaxed, and had no appetite at all. The caffeine was helping wake him up after another restless night filled with dreams of green eyes and golden skin, but was also making him increasingly jittery and anxious.
He chanced a quick glance over at the Gryffindor table, and was strangely relieved to see that Potter was back in his usual place having been absent at both lunch and dinner yesterday. He was encouraged to note that he looked like death warmed up. He still managed to look attractive in a dishevelled well-fucked kind of a way – and he certainly had been, Draco reflected with a smirk of satisfaction. But the dark smudges under his eyes and the pallor of his cheeks, implied that he was as rattled as Draco by this thing that was happening between them.
"What in Salazar's name is up with you darling?" Pansy's voice cut into his Potter related musings. "You look like utter shite."
"I do not," he glared. "Malfoy's never look like shite, I'm just tired that's all."
"Blaise been keeping you up late again has he?" she drawled back suggestively, "Honestly I don't know where you boys find all that energy for the ridiculous amount of bed hopping that seems to go on in your dorm."
She paused, and then raised her eyebrows as she was greeted by a stony silence. Draco felt his cheeks flush and was furious at his inability to control it. He felt Blaise's eyes boring into him from across the table and glanced up to meet his dark eyes defiantly.
"Not guilty Pansy," Blaise cut in smoothly, his dark eyes narrowed thoughtfully as he held Draco's gaze.
"Oho, like that then... off to pastures new? So who's the latest then Draco? Come on, spill." She regarded him questioningly over her coffee cup, eyes lighting up at the prospect of juicy gossip.
"Oh sod off you nosey bint," Draco snapped, tiredness and fraught nerves preventing him from maintaining his usual cool. He pushed his chair back in irritation with a sudden loud screech, causing heads to turn on nearby tables. He briefly met a clear green gaze from behind metal frames, but forced his eyes away and stalked off, needing to get away and be alone with the turmoil of his thoughts.
He left the castle, craving fresh air and solitude, and walked swiftly, the dewy grass catching on the hems of his trousers and dampening them around his heels. It was a cool morning but clear, with the promise of warmth later when the sun rose higher in the sky. Draco found himself heading for the lake, then took the path that curved around the water's edge, wanting to put as much distance between himself and the castle as possible.
As he walked he allowed the rhythmic, repetitive movement to soothe him and enjoyed the respite from his obsessive thoughts. He focused only on the sound of bird song, and the feel of the ground beneath his feet and the cool air on his cheeks. When he reached the far side of the lake he was breathing quickly from the exertion and feeling pleasantly warm despite the chill of the air. He headed up into a copse of trees that sloped up from the shore and found a comfortable spot, nestled between the roots of a large beech tree. His vantage point afforded him a perfect view of the lake, and would ensure that he would see anyone approaching from the direction of Hogwarts. He settled down, confident that he could enjoy the morning tranquillity undisturbed for a while at least.
He leaned his head back and looked up at the chinks of blue sky peeping through the startling acid green of the beech leaves above him. He found himself comparing them to the softer green of Harry's eyes. Fuck no, Potter's eyes, when did he start thinking of him as Harry? He clenched his fists and heaved a sigh of exasperation. It was bad enough that he was measuring the greenness of leaves using Potter's eyes as a yard stick at all. Merlin, there was no hope for him.
Realising that he was clearly incapable of not thinking about Potter, he resigned himself to it, but decided to try a new approach. Draco was analytical by nature and prided himself on his ability to take a step back from a tricky situation and think it through objectively.
OK... So I have the hots for Potter in a big way, and it seems to be reciprocated.
That was clear enough, the fierce attraction between them was undeniable and it wasn't going away. Draco's hope that shagging Potter might get him out of his system had been well and truly dashed. He wanted him again. He wanted him soon, and he had an unsettling feeling that any number of times might not be enough. On the plus side he was pretty confident by now that Potter would be as keen as he was to meet again and take things further. He allowed himself a moment's indulgence, recalling the shockingly trusting way that Potter had given himself to Draco yesterday. He felt himself harden at the memory of Potter spread out before him, so vulnerable but brave and determined. Typical Bloody Gryffindor, but he couldn't help his lips from curling in a smile as warmth flooded through him.
So, we both want more. So what's the problem?
He sighed. There were so many reasons that any sort of relationship between him and Potter was a Bad Idea he didn't know where to begin. Really he could have done with making a list at this point – Draco liked lists – but as he didn't have any parchment on him he would have to keep it all in his head for now.
Potter was a Gryffindor and he was a Slytherin. Their friends hated each other. Hell, until some unspecified point during the last very confusing week, he and Potter had hated each other. He didn't know exactly how he felt about Potter now, but he knew he couldn't call it hate anymore. You couldn't hate someone who allowed you to tie them up and... His cock throbbed at the thought of what the Gryffindor had let him do.
His parents would have a fit if they found out that he was involved with Harry Potter. They didn't even know he was gay; they were still expecting him to marry some eminently suitable pure blood and produce a little Malfoy heir. He was going to cross that particular bridge when it came to it, having no intention of going along with that plan, but he was not ready to deal with the fallout yet. By and large the wizarding community was fairly supportive of same sex unions. There were even magical ways and means of producing biological offspring in a homosexual marriage... however Draco was pretty damn sure that his parents would never see Potter as a suitable match.
He laughed aloud slightly hysterically at the turn his thoughts were taking. For fuck's sake he only wanted to shag Potter, not bloody marry him. But the fact remained that his life would become rather difficult if his parents found out about any connection between him and The Boy Who Lived, no matter how casual.
Potter didn't have any parents to disapprove and his godfather, Sirius Black had died last year. However since then he had been practically, if not legally, adopted by the Weasley clan. Draco rolled his eyes. The ginger hordes were hardly going to be keen on the idea of their precious Harry Potter being involved with the likes of him. Not to mention what Dumbledore and Hagrid would think, and all the other adults who were involving in protecting the bloody boy wonder. Draco groaned aloud in frustration and tugged angrily as his usually perfect hair.
So, to sum up...
He wanted Potter – and was pretty sure that Potter wanted him, but there were about a million reasons why them being together was a Bad Idea. Draco tried and failed to think of a single reason why he and Potter were a good idea, other than that he wanted it. He wanted Potter fiercely, almost painfully, like a knife twisting in his gut. He realised that he had been holding his breath and released it with a puff.
There was nothing else for it. He was going to have to talk to Potter, to actually have a conversation with him. He shuddered. The thought of attempting to talk about this thing with Potter made him feel sick with nerves and embarrassment – when did he become such a fucking Hufflepuff? But the thought of just allowing it to stop and fizzle out was worse. Terrifyingly he realised that he was already in too deep, and he needed to find out if he and Potter could come to some agreement about this... whatever the fuck it was... that was evolving between them. He had to find a time when he could speak to Potter alone, the sooner the better. He pushed himself up and hurried back to the castle.
XOXOXOX
Harry was in the Gryffindor common room, hunched morosely over his total fail of a Charms essay again. He had barely made any progress on it over the weekend, yesterday had been a total write off. After Malfoy had interrupted him and they had met in the empty classroom – harry shivered with longing – he had been utterly unable to concentrate on anything. He had retreated to Gryffindor Tower and hadn't dared venture out, even for meals. He had stuck with his excuse of feeling a bit rough and taken to his bed, persuading Ron to bring him up food from lunch and dinner, but refusing to go to the sick bay for just a headache.
Truthfully he was afraid of coming face to face with Malfoy and not knowing how to respond to him. When their eyes had met at breakfast as Malfoy stormed out he had felt weak with longing and had to resist the crazy impulse to run after him and see if he was alright. Harry felt as if his life was a jigsaw puzzle that had been carefully and painstakingly completed, but then some careless person had come along and dashed a hand through it and now all the pieces were jumbled in a chaotic mess. Nothing made sense anymore. Did he still hate Malfoy? Did Malfoy still hate him? How was he supposed to act around him now? He sighed heavily and crossed out yet another mucked up sentence, ignoring Hermione's disapproving tut from across the table.
"Harry, what on earth is wrong with you?" she sounded exasperated. "If you're still feeling ill you should go to see Madame Pomfrey and get a sick note, then Flitwick will give you an extension on the essay."
"I'm fine Hermione," Harry tried not to snap. He knew that Hermione had his best interests at heart but he just wished she would butt out sometimes. He had no wish to explain what was really bothering him. "I have until Thursday anyway and I'm sure I can get it done by then."
"Well you don't look fine," she studied him carefully. "Honestly Harry you're awfully pale and you look shattered."
"I'll be fine. I just need a decent night's sleep." He looked back at his notes to avoid her eyes. Hermione was too perceptive by half and her scrutiny was making him uncomfortable.
Harry got back to work, or the half arsed attempt that currently passed for work while all he could actually think about was bloody Malfoy. After another half an hour or so of toil, and adding a pathetic two inches of writing to his scroll he admitted defeat. He needed to go and find Malfoy, the uncertainty was killing him. He needed to speak to the blonde and get some answers about what he actually wanted from Harry... but above all he needed to touch him and taste him; to smell his skin and feel him under his hands. The Slytherin was like a drug to Harry and he had to have more.
He muttered his excuses to Hermione and headed for the boys dormitory. It was currently deserted, much to his relief, he was getting fed up of people telling him he looked crap and asking if he was okay. He sat on the edge of his bed, pulled the Marauder's Map from his bedside drawer and tapped it with his wand, muttering the familiar incantation that would make it reveal its secrets.
He scanned the map carefully, watching the dots that represented every person within the walls and grounds of Hogwarts. Harry grinned to himself as he found the name that he was searching for and felt his heart quicken in anticipation. There he was – Draco Malfoy, a small dot currently crossing the courtyard and entering the main hall. Harry was relieved to see that he was alone, he set off quickly, map in hand, hoping that he might manage to intercept Malfoy somewhere quiet.
He sped through the corridors that led from Gryffindor tower, keeping his eyes on the map. He had expected Malfoy to be heading for the Slytherin dungeons at this time of day but that didn't appear to be the case. He paused for a moment and watched carefully as the dot moved. It seemed to be heading in his direction. That was unusual; the Slytherins rarely frequented the corridors close to Gryffindor house. He watched as the dot ascended another staircase and realised he was close now, just around a couple of corners in a dark section of corridor near some rarely-used classrooms and a few storage cupboards. The Malfoy dot stopped and then appeared to move back and forth retracing the same path. Harry's brow furrowed as he realised that Malfoy must be pacing up and down. Interesting, why would the blonde be lurking alone in a corridor so close to Gryffindor Tower? Unless maybe he was looking for someone, Harry grinned, suddenly hopeful.
Harry rolled the map up and tucked it into his pocket, made sure that he was totally covered by the invisibility cloak, and started moving again. He walked swiftly and silently until he could hear the sounds of feet moving repetitively, echoing in the quiet corridor. He crept around the last corner then stopped, enjoying the rare opportunity to study Malfoy without fear of discovery.
The blonde was indeed pacing and looking uncharacteristically agitated. He was muttering under his breath, but Harry couldn't catch the words. He paused occasionally to scan the length of the corridor and listen for the sounds of anyone approaching. Harry admired the grace of his movements and the pallor of his skin which practically glowed in the dim light. Malfoy finally stopped, leaned against the stone wall and looked down at his feet. He ran long-fingered hands through his silky hair, sighing aloud.
"Oh for fuck's sake," he threw his head back against the wall in frustration and clenched his eyes shut.
Harry stepped back around the corner so he would be out of Malfoy's sight and let the cloak slip from his shoulders. He quickly bundled it into a pocket, then moved silently back into Malfoy's line of vision. He took a deep breath, screwed up his courage and spoke.
"Looking for someone Malfoy?" The Slytherin gasped and his pale cheeks flushed pink. Harry had never seen him look so flustered, it suited him.
"Oh! Potter... I... um..." he trailed off as Harry approached softly until he was face to face with Malfoy, close enough to touch.
Malfoy's eyes were dark in the dim light with just a slim curve of silver circling his pupils. He stared at Harry, his breath shaky, looking almost fearful. Harry felt a pulse of blood rush to his groin as Malfoy's lips parted slightly, his eyes still fixed on Harry's as though unable to look away. Harry felt his hand move as though compelled, he wasn't conscious of controlling the movement. He brought his fingertips up to brush a stray lock of pale hair away from Malfoy's temple and allowed the pad of his thumb to graze the pale cheek. Malfoy gasped, the sound shocking in the silence of the corridor and Harry found his hand sliding round to the back of the blonde's neck as he pulled him slowly forward until their lips met.
The kiss was tentative at first, Harry felt as though he was asking for something as his lips ghosted over Malfoy's, their hot breath mingling. He allowed just the tip of his tongue to slide along Malfoy's lower lip and felt a thrill as the lips parted and their tongues touched. The kiss deepened as Malfoy's hands came up to clutch and twine in his hair, pulling him closer until their bodies were locked together. They moaned into each other's mouths as their already hard cocks were trapped between them by the movement. Harry gave himself up to the kiss, exploring Malfoy's mouth with his tongue and sliding one hand down to clutch a hip, pulling the blonde even closer. He whined in protest as Malfoy turned his head and freed a hand to push frantically at Harry's chest.
"Wait... Potter!" his voice was unsteady and breathless.
"Don't want to," Harry growled sliding his tongue along the Slytherin's jaw to his neck and nipping to show his disapproval.
Malfoy hissed then sighed in pleasure as Harry's tongue soothed the sore spot and moved towards his earlobe. "Fuck... please... I..."
"Mmm, yes... fuck, good idea," Harry murmured into heated silky skin. "Merlin, I want you so much... I can't stop thinking about you." He ground his cock into Malfoy's hardness eliciting a whimper.
"It's just... oh fuck Potter," his voice was frustrated. "I just wanted to talk to you!"
This was so surprising that Harry paused and removed his mouth, looking at Malfoy with a puzzled frown, suddenly worried that he had misread the situation.
"Um... really? You only want to talk?" he searched Malfoy's face. "I'm sorry, I thought you wanted this too..." he tailed off uncertain.
"No you idiot," Malfoy rolled his eyes. "I think it's pretty bloody obvious that I want this as much as you do." He pushed his erection into Harry's for emphasis. "It's just that I think there are a few things we need to discuss. You know... terms and conditions if this is going to be a regular occurrence." His voice was hopeful.
Harry felt relief rush through him and he grinned until Malfoy smiled tentatively back.
"OK, how about we finish this first and talk afterwards?" he raised his eyebrows suggestively. "Only I don't know about you, but I don't find a raging hard on helps me to be very articulate."
"Fair point," Malfoy sniggered. "Although I'm not sure this corridor is an ideal location unless we want an audience."
"Come on then," Harry pulled him by the hand to a door a little way along in the stone wall. "It's a bit cramped but at least we won't be disturbed."
He opened the door and dragged Malfoy into a large broom cupboard. It had a few shelves at the back and some ancient looking brooms and mops were propped against one wall.
"Potter – what the fuck?" Malfoy protested looking uneasy, "It's horribly dusty in here and probably full of spiders." He winced as his leg brushed against a bucket on the floor.
"Seriously, you're scared of spiders?" Harry chuckled, "don't worry, I'll protect you."
He leaned against the small bit of free wall that was available beside the door and parted his legs, pulling Malfoy between them and then reached to pull the door shut. He silenced the continuing noises of protest with another fierce kiss, grinning with satisfaction as he felt the other boy surrender, his lips parting beneath Harry's with a sigh.
The darkness of the broom closet meant that Harry couldn't see Malfoy at all, but all his other senses seemed to be heightened as if to compensate. His fingers could feel every strand of Malfoy's silky hair as they tangled in the length of it. His other hand pulled his shirt free and slid up to find warm, smooth flesh. Harry suppressed a moan as Malfoy lowered his lips to lick and suck at his neck and felt hands clench on his arse, grinding their erections together.
"Oh fuck... more... I need..." Harry gasped incoherently, reaching between them to fumble with robes and trousers, opening and revealing heated flesh, slippery with want.
He freed both their cocks as Malfoy worked on shirt buttons and teased Harry's nipples with his eager tongue, hissing into his chest as Harry's hand closed around him. Harry felt hot lips and warm breath back against his mouth and a hand wrapping around his own leaking erection. Their gasps mingled as they both started to move in an awkward, slightly jolting rhythm.
They were a little hampered their proximity but Harry didn't care. Just the feeling of Malfoy's hand moving over his cock, and the scent of their arousal in the confined space was enough to make him impossibly harder. He knew he wasn't going to last long and sped up the movement of his hand, enjoying the sensual slide of smooth slick skin over hardness and heat.
He whimpered as a thumb swept over the sensitive head of his cock and whispered against Malfoy's lips, "Oh... Merlin... I'm so close."
An answering gasp of "ohhh... me too... now..." was all it took and Harry came with a hoarse cry, feeling hot wetness flood over both of their hands. He felt Malfoy follow him, just seconds after, adding his own sticky release to the glorious mess between them.
Harry collapsed back exhausted, letting the wall take his weight, feeling the other boy sag against him, breath hot against his cheek and neck, as their cocks slowly softened in now-gentle grips.
Eventually Harry pulled out his wand and cast a cleaning spell, making Malfoy shiver at the sudden chill. "Sorry," he apologised with a chuckle. "I should have warned you." They rearranged their haphazard clothing and wordlessly returned to their casual embrace.
Malfoy chuckled. "You're very distracting Potter, I barely thought about spiders."
"I should hope so," Harry smiled into soft, surprisingly sweet-smelling hair. "So anyway, what did you want to talk to me about?" He waited, feeling suddenly awkward and grateful for the darkness that surrounded them.
"Well," Malfoy's voice was light but there was tension beneath the surface. "You obviously can't stay away from me..." Harry snorted but didn't deny it, allowing him to continue.
"And even though this thing between us is ridiculously fucked up..." he hesitated again then spoke in a muttered rush. "I'd like to keep seeing you, if you're agreeable?"
The choice of words made Harry's lips quirk, both at their strange formality, and at the incongruity of hearing them come from his one time nemesis. "Malfoy, are you asking me out?" he asked. "I just want to be clear on this."
There was a tense silence and a barely perceptible murmur of "I suppose," soft against the crook of his neck.
Harry felt something warm and tingly flood through him and he tightened his arms around Malfoy. "You mentioned conditions?"
"Well, I think it would be best if we kept this little arrangement to ourselves," Malfoy's voice was serious now. "If it got out that we were... you know... it would cause no end of hassle for both of us."
Harry nodded. "I guess you're right, it's easier this way." Then he snorted "well – maybe not this exact way, less spiders and more light would be preferable, but I agree in principle."
Malfoy chuckled, "so that's a yes then?"
"Yes, except I have one condition of my own," Harry said. "I know it will be weird at first, but when we're on our own I'd prefer it if you called me Harry, and I'd like to call you Draco." The name felt unfamiliar and strange on his lips, but he liked the feel of it.
"I think I can live with that... Harry," Harry smiled as he heard his given name spoken in Draco's light drawl for the first time. "Now please can we get out of this sodding broom cupboard? I swear I can feel things crawling on me."
Harry laughed and cracked the door open quietly, peering out carefully hoping that the corridor was empty. There was no one to be seen and both boys emerged, blinking in the comparative brightness, brushing dust and cobwebs off their own and each other's clothes.
"So... can I see you tonight?" Harry asked hesitantly turning to face Draco, relieved when he immediately grinned and nodded. Emboldened Harry continued, "I know a place we can go. Can you meet me in the corridor near the History of Magic classroom by the rusty suit of armour at nine?"
"OK," Draco pulled Harry in for a thorough kiss until their cheeks were flushed and breathing ragged.
"Stop it or I'll drag you back into that cupboard for another round," Harry threatened pulling away with a smirk. "You go on ahead. I'll hang back for a few minutes so no one sees us together."
"I'll see you later Harry," Draco's smile was radiant and nearly took Harry's breath away. Then he turned and stepped away.
"Bye Draco." Harry watched him go, lips curving in a secret smile, wondering what on earth he had got himself into.
End of Chapter Three
A/N – This started out as a one shot but seems to be evolving quite nicely. This chapter ended up with rather a lot of internal monologues but they were needed for the plot! I have a plan for at least two more chapters, possibly more than that if they get long. I hope you're still enjoying it.
Reviews are always appreciated!
If you liked this please check out my other stories too.
