Ch 13 Only in Dreams

Harry woke up still tired, as if he hadn't slept at all. He stared around at the now too-familiar walls for a long time, just thinking. This place had been a prison, a sanctuary, a blessing and a curse, but now all he could think of was getting out, so that he could help Draco. With all the distractions of school and his friends and the war peeled away, there was still someone he wanted to help. The idea that they could be together, that it was even a remote possibility, had lit a fire in Harry. The changes he'd seen in Draco may not stick, he may not be able to lead a life that directly opposed his family, his father.

But damn it, he wanted to try. They both did, Harry was sure of it.

Frustrated, Harry started to get up. That's when he realized that Draco's arm was draped across his chest, and the blond head was only inches away from his own. Draco seemed to be sleeping heavily, his breath warming a spot on Harry's shoulder.

Harry's restlessness faded into the background at the wonder of his situation. The pointed features looked less harsh in repose, less pinched. Still, there was the evidence of the past couple of days, or however long it had been. The crease between the eyebrows had deepened, and even now there seemed to be some tension there. Harry wished he could smooth it away, but he was still so afraid to touch Draco. Maybe now, though, while he slept…

Moving carefully so he wouldn't wake the other boy, Harry maneuvered himself so that he lay facing Draco, the reaching arm still bridging the distance between them. Harry's hand moved hesitantly to Draco's face, lightly tracing the small crease. Yes, there was still pressure on the muscles. There was no response at the touch, so Harry dared more. He let his fingertip trail lightly along the jaw-line, up and across the cheekbone, down the bridge of the nose. He paused, then brushed a gentle line across his lips. This got a reaction, but only a small intake of breath, no movement.

Harry found himself wishing desperately that Draco would wake up. If Draco woke right now, Harry could kiss him, could taste him. Kiss his throat, nip his earlobe. Harry's hand stole up to Draco's hairline, running his fingers through it. It was messy, but the way it fell across his sleeping face was beautiful. Yes, beautiful was the right word for him. At least, when he was sleeping. Awake, with the fire in his eyes and the sharp tongue, beautiful wasn't quite right. But here, now, it was perfect. Harry ran a fingertip around the convoluted lines of Draco's earlobe.

"You'd better stop that, Potter, unless you're really serious."

Harry almost jumped out of his skin. Again. "How do you keep doing that? Seem like you're asleep, but really be watching me?"

"Pretending to be asleep is a good way to hear things you're not supposed to hear," Draco said. He hadn't actually opened his eyes yet, but he moved his hand so it was resting on Harry's ribcage. A small smile pursed his lips. "Besides, you are fun to startle."

Emboldened by the teasing note in Draco's voice, Harry continued to trace little lines on the pale skin. "Is this bothering you?" he asked, a hint of real worry coming through.

"Since it's just a dream, no, not at all. In fact," and his smile widened, "it's not even a new dream."

Harry was a bit surprised; not bothered, but surprised. How long had Draco been thinking of him? He flushed, remembering a few of his own dreams. "Not for me either. Of course, in my dreams, you can look at me."

Draco's grin faded a little, and his eyes remained firmly shut. "Yes, this is a strange one. I've never had this dream take place anywhere except my bedroom, though, and if I find I'm not there…" He trailed off.

"Well, we're awfully lucky then, that in this dream, your eyes stay closed?" said Harry. He could wait no longer, and moved forward to press his mouth to Draco's. His seeking tongue pressed for entrance, and was warmly received. They remained that way, giving and taking in the kiss that seemed to be deeper every second, their hungry hands reaching for the other's body, neck, hair, arms, hips.

Harry broke the kiss, but moved his attention immediately to the pale skin of Draco's throat, touching and tasting exactly as he had wanted to minutes before. He found a place on the collarbone and sucked at the skin, bringing heat to the surface. Harry's explorations were hampered by Draco's shirt, so he sat up, intending to peel it off. What he saw when he tore his eyes away from Draco left him gaping.

"Draco, look!" Harry gasped.

Draco groaned. "Just when it was getting good," He was still keeping his eyes closed, but his breaths were coming short and fast. "Why do the good dreams always end so early?"

"You git, open your eyes and look around!"

Annoyed at the insulting word, Draco finally sat up and allowed his eyelids to flutter open. Then he too stared disbelievingly at their much altered surroundings.

They were no longer sitting on the floor on a pile of cushions; they had inexplicably become a large, obviously antique mahogany four-poster bed, dressed in forest green curtains, a matching green bedspread with contrasting cream colored sheets. All of the fabrics were the highest quality and also quite old, although it was difficult to know how he knew that. The rest of the room was richly decorated, with a large marble-faced fireplace on one wall and paintings of all sorts of things on the wall.

"This, this is my bedroom! I mean, it looks like…" His eyes fell on the small table in the corner. It still held a half-full bottle of fire whiskey. "But it's still the Room…"

Harry didn't let him finish. They could get around Draco's fits, but with this prime opportunity so generously provided by the Room of Requirement, he didn't intend to waste a moment. Harry grabbed the back of Draco's neck and pulled him in for a kiss. The bold motion earned a light moan of pleasure and Draco's hand twined into Harry's hair. The heat in the room seemed to skyrocket at the contact as Draco leaned into him, giving as good as he got.

They broke apart, gasping for breath, but only just far enough apart to let the air in. Draco's hand came up and brushed Harry's hair away from his eyes. Harry's glasses were askew, so he fixed that too. Funny, he barely noticed the glasses when they were kissing.

"Wow, Harry, want much, do you?" Draco said, aware of his rapid heartbeat. He could swear that he could see the thrumming pulse in Harry's neck.

"I don't want to miss any of the good stuff in this dream," Harry said, smiling, but he blushed. He didn't mean to seem so eager, but the suspense had been killing him, and having Draco respond to his touch like that was pure adrenaline.

It was Draco's turn to grin. "Well, this isn't exactly how my dreams go." He suddenly grabbed Harry by the hips and lifted him bodily, tipping him backwards onto the bed.

Harry was thrown back onto the soft bed, and Draco crawled over his prone body, placing himself firmly but lightly right on top of Harry's hips. He tugged at Harry's grey linen shirt, and Harry sat up enough for Draco to strip it off of him. He was pushed back again. Draco leaned down and kissed Harry; it was a commanding kiss, demanding a response, which it got. Harry couldn't help but respond, with the pressure on his hips and the mouth on his, with its demanding tongue; he moaned with pleasure. He was lost in the sensation, eyes closed hands limp at his sides, even unaware that his hips were trying to grind into Draco. When Draco's weight left him he almost cried out with disappointment.

His cry was cut off, though, when he felt Draco's lips moving down his chest, his tongue tracing wet lines all over. The sensation was too much, he felt he couldn't lay still for any more of this, then Draco flicked his tongue across Harry's nipple. Now he did cry out, a wordless sound that nevertheless meant 'oh, god!'

His body arched off the bed, reaching for Draco, and Harry's hands couldn't stay still anymore. He reached for Draco, grabbed him by the shoulders and dragging him on top of his own body for another kiss. He longed to flip them over, to return the favor, but he didn't think Draco would go for it. Not just yet. And he was right.

Draco reveled in the kiss. He knew he was making Harry crazy, and that dragging things out too long would be bad, but he couldn't resist a little teasing. How many times had he dreamed about having Potter in his bed, willing and responsive? How many times had he woken up to the thought that it could never, ever happen? Well. If this was a dream, he wanted to make it count.

He broke the kiss, looking into Harry's eyes. Gently he reached up and took hold of Harry's glasses, then paused. At a slight nod of acquiescence, he removed them and tossed them on the bedside table. Now he could really see those green eyes, surrounded by dark lashes. Harry's face had an almost aged look. Not wrinkled, but experienced. He'd been through a lot in his young life, but the only mark it seemed to have left was a look of knowing. And the scar, of course. Draco ignored the scar. He found Harry's neck and ears far more interesting. Straddling Harry's chest, he sought them out with his mouth, feeling how different the soft, soft skin of the earlobe was from the skin of the neck. There was a hint of whiskers sprouting; for some reason this made Draco happy. The slight roughness intrigued him. He could feel Harry's hands on him, unable to resist. His body responded, suddenly hypersensitive to the work-created calluses on Harry's hands.

Harry couldn't stop touching Draco's skin. It was so smooth, and the fine, almost invisible blond hairs made him feel even softer. He felt Draco shiver and pause in what he was doing to Harry's ears. Harry's hands moved to Draco's sides, where he could feel the ribs through the skin. Draco was thin, almost no extra flesh on his bones. Experimentally, Harry moved his fingers do Draco's nipples, applying a bit of pressure, moving his thumbs around them in circles. With satisfaction, Harry felt Draco's body tense, heard and felt the expletive muttered into his shoulder with hot breath.

"Oh, shit."

Harry smiled, but the situation was becoming urgent now. The pressure had been building since they'd started, but it was reaching epic proportions. He could also feel the heat of Draco's need against his chest. It was time something was done about that, for both their sakes.

"Draco," Harry started. Draco sat up, deliberately moving backwards to position himself above Harry's hips, but not settling down.

"Yes?"

"Can we-I mean, isn't it time-" he faltered. He'd never had to ask this sort of thing before, and Draco was so obviously teasing on purpose, he was almost afraid to ask. What was he supposed to say, can we please have it off now before my head and my dick explodes?

"Are you ready?" Still teasing, but his breath quickened.

Harry was a bit wary. "Ready for what exactly?"

Draco laughed softly. "I won't hurt you, I promise. But it is my dream, remember?"

Now a bit apprehensive, Harry tried to put a brave face on it. "Does that mean next time, it gets to be my dreams?"

Again a laugh. "Absolutely."

"Then can we please have it off before I blow a gauge somewhere?"

"Ahhh," said Draco. "That's the magic word."

X x X

Please don't kill me, but it's after midnight, I have to get up for work in the morning, and NaNoWriMo started 3 minutes ago! I wanted to post a new chapter before I got too entrenched in my NaNo project, but I really didn't expect it to turn out so pr0n-y. I'm actually surprised at myself, and I hope it's up to a decent standard, as it's really my first attempt at writing a scene like this. I realize it's not actual sex, but still. Let me know what you think of it, so I can improve in the next chapter. I will try to get it out before the end of NaNo, it'll make a nice break. Writing a serious novel? Stuck? Write H/D porn! w00t! Sorry about the long interval between updates too, finals, procrastination, family stuff, you know the drill. As always, fresh cookies and shiny internets to all reviewers, and con-crit rox my sox!