Hi! Here's chapter 5. I hope you like where this is going, and I hope I can update the next one asap! Please enjoy, and don't forget to review!

Chapter 5

A Date

Harry woke up, feeling warm under the cozy covers. Someone was curled up to him, sharing his warmth with Harry. He smiled into the heat, but suddenly froze in realization. Ginny? Why was Ginny lying next to him? The shock traveled over his body, and he suddenly became aware of his morning hardness. Was he back together with Ginny?

It struck Harry like lightning. He must've dreamed about the future. He must've been so desperate to break up with her that he was actually dreaming about being by himself. He frowned, trying to figure out why he was slightly aroused, something that normally did not happen with his girlfriend. This couldn't be! His eyes shot open again, ready to shove Ginny off when Harry took a second look.

He sighed in relief. It wasn't Ginny. It was bloody Malfoy. At first, that thought startled Harry even more, but after a few calming breaths, Harry had to admit he preferred Malfoy lying next to him over Ginny. He didn't hate the girl, but the last thing he would do was get back together with her. Besides, she was way happier without him. Only a few months after the breakup she got together with Seamus, and as far as Harry knew, they were still together.

Malfoy was curled up like a ball, his cheek resting against Harry's chest, his knees pulled up against Harry's abdomen and his feet between Harry's legs. The position made Harry's blood boil. Harry paid no attention to it, hoping it would go away again. The thought of Ginny had flattened his boner, he hadn't even realized until now; while the thought of Ginny had gone away, the erection had returned, his body heated up and his pulse sped up. Malfoy's hair tickled his chest. His regular, hot breathing fell onto Harry's ribs, making it difficult for Harry to stop his train of thoughts.

Harry closed his eyes and relaxed against his pillow. On the one hand, he wanted to get up, but on the other he didn't want to wake Malfoy. He would have to untangle Malfoy from him, if he wanted to do so. His body became more and more aware of the male presence and didn't feel like relaxing at all. What if Malfoy saw that he was turned on by lying next to him? Harry jumped out of bed with a whoop. The last thing he wanted was for Malfoy to see his –

"What are you doing?" Malfoy murmured, still half asleep. Harry felt busted and turn as red as a tomato. He opened his mouth to give an explanation, couldn't come up with one and closed his mouth again. His fish interpretation gave him a little more time to come up with something enlightening to say, and since Malfoy was still half asleep, he didn't notice it took him a while to answer.

"N-nothing," Harry breathed. Perfect answer, Harry thought sarcastically. His body apparently hadn't forgotten about their incident the day before. Or about Malfoy for that matter. Harry sneaked to the bathroom, covering the proof of his arousal as he went and closed the door behind him with a sigh. What a relief, Malfoy didn't have a clue.

He walked up to the shower, turning on the tap and stripping his only cloth down. With the action, he accidentally brushed against his swollen limp, and almost flinched. He grumbled in the back of his throat and stepped under the shower. He could hex Malfoy right now for doing this to him.

He closed his eyes, trying to focus on something else, and tried thinking about Quidditch. He focused on all his accessories to add to his broom; while steadying his breathing. A flash of a foamy, naked Malfoy disturbed his thoughts, as Harry soaped his hair. The memory overpowered his other thoughts, while lathering the rest of his body. As he passed by his groin, it twitched painfully and he grabbed hold of it, no longer able to resist his arousal. The sensation made him whimper as blonde curls haunted his mind.

The steam in the shower increased as Harry neared his orgasm. He had to bite his bottom lip to keep it down, knowing that the blonde was only one door away. His release dripped from his hands, as he rested his head against the cold window, grey eyes taunting him all the while.

Draco had been soundly asleep when Potter toppled out of bed with a shriek. What was his problem? He could wake the whole town with that outburst. Draco opened his eyes lazily. He patted on the bed, looking for the missing person, then looked up. Potter towered above him, protecting his crotch with his hands. Potter had gotten a scarlet color, which made him look all flustered. Draco could see the arousal in his eyes. Potter always had a hard time hiding his emotions, and Draco could read him like a book, especially when he was not wearing his glasses. Draco gaped at him lazily while Potter.

Draco was too tired to pull an eyebrow, but he would have done it if he had been fully awake. Instead, he watched Potter trip away to the bathroom, his hands all over his boner. Draco smiled inwardly. Was the Golden Boy embarrassed by his morning hardness? How surprising; Draco always had imagined Potter to be some sort non sexual person. He probably never wanked, and hardly had such morning problems when sleeping alone.

Draco crawled out of bed. With Potter gone, the bed was cold and he wouldn't be able to fall back asleep anyway. He hadn't realized his own erection was twitching, being harder than it usually was. This had been the third time in only 2 days that Draco had seen Potter with an erection. At Hogwarts Draco thought Potter was a nun, since he had never had sex during his teens, but right now that thought only turned Draco on.

He walked to his luggage, picking out a nice outfit for the day, and waited next the bathroom for Potter to finish. A moan came from behind it, and Draco pricked up his ears. Was that Potters voice? Curiosity took the better part of him and he turned the door handle quietly, opening it just a few centimeters to peek through. Potter was standing under the shower, hand around his erection and his head in his neck. Another muffled moan escaped the Hero's mouth, his body shaking lightly.

Draco's mouth opened a little, almost tasting the soap in his mouth and watched; his eyes glued to the scene before him, his body petrified. When Potter started to clean after himself and wrapped a fluffy towel around his waist; Draco's mind seem to come to life again.

Potter exited the bathroom, so Draco took full liberty to freshen himself up, walking past the raven haired man seductively. Potter had no idea what he had just experienced.

Malfoy remained in the bathroom for ages. Harry had gotten dressed and was waiting on his roommate to get some breakfast. He wanted to forget about this morning as quickly as possible, and wanted to erase the memory of a half naked Malfoy parading next to him before entering the bathroom. His erection would was already good for another go, and Harry needed to force himself to stop thinking about the blonde.

Harry ruffled through his luggage, searching for some fresh socks, when he saw the Opera tickets. Harry sighed. Hermione had offered him 2 tickets to a famous Opera concert, which she thought of as very beautiful and instructive. Harry had politely refused to take them, but she had insisted. An opera? How boring could it get? If she was that interested; why didn't she just go herself? Deep inside, he knew she had offered him the tickets as a holiday present, and to force him to ask somebody out. Either way, Harry was not that desperate.

Ron had rolled his eyes at her and shared that if Harry didn't want to go, he didn't have to. At that, Hermione had thrown him a murderous McGonnagal look that made everybody flinch. Harry had accepted them with a large smile. The look Hermione had given him still sent shivers down his spine. Why did she have to be so persistent about it?

Afterwards, Harry had proposed to pretend to have gone to the concert and just throw them away, but Ron had warned him. She would definitely know when Harry was lying. So here he was, two opera tickets, no date and feeling enormously dreadful. He was incapable of throwing them away, not able to hurt his friend on purpose.

Who on Earth could he ask to go to such a tedious show? Harry sank down onto the bed, sighing for the umpteenth time. Malfoy was still in the bathroom, humming while showering. Harry blocked the thought of a naked Malfoy, but had already experienced trouble blocking a half naked Malfoy and heaved another sigh. This holiday was becoming very unhealthy.

Malfoy.

He could ask Malfoy! Yeah, that way he had someone to talk to and that would make things less dull. He wouldn't have to explain to Malfoy why he wanted to go there, since he knew 'Mione and he would understand. Plus, he owed him big time for saving his ass! Harry smiled widely, putting the tickets back and thumping on the bathroom door.

"Malfoy, come on, I'm hungry!" Harry howled, slamming on the door with his fists. The water was still running, which meant the former Slytherin had not finished showering just yet.

"Who says you have to wait?" Malfoy shot back.

"I do! I'll help you finish your chores, so please hurry," Harry whined. Harry heard how the water was shut off, and waited more patiently. Malfoy exited the bathroom, only wearing a fluffy towel. Harry felt his cheek heating up. Malfoy certainly had a negative influence on him. If it was about to continue like this, Harry would even consider castration.

"Aren't you feeling well, Potter? You look rather red," Malfoy provoked. Harry gulped and closed his eyes, trying to focus on an answer; while his mind was clouded with towels and naked torsos.

"Just put something on, Malfoy. I would appreciate it." Harry didn't know why he was reacting so foolishly. Why was he so photosensitive when it involved a naked Malfoy? And he wasn't even completely naked.

"Do you feel like accompanying me to this concert?" Harry asked out of the blue. Malfoy pulled a black shirt over his blonde hair, and Harry had to make sure he didn't drool. The black fabric fit his body perfectly. His pale arms stood out next to the black cloth. Harry had never even noticed how beautiful the man really was.

"Concert?" Malfoy asked, making Harry look at Malfoy's face instead of his chest. Malfoy pulled on a black jeans, which were so narrow that Harry got trouble breathing. Harry tried to keep his cool, a wave of heat floating to the centre of his body yet again.

"Yeah, some opera thing Hermione sent me to," Harry hissed hoarsely.

"You're asking me on a date?" Malfoy ridiculed. Date? Like he would ever date with Malfoy! If it would have been possible, his scarlet shade would have darkened even more and he was flabbergasted.

"N-no, it's not-" Harry stuttered.

"What is it then? Having trouble speaking, Potter?" Malfoy sneered. Harry knew very well he was speechless, but didn't want to give Malfoy the satisfaction of being right.

"No! I'm just asking you to come watch the opera, because I would hate to go alone, since I'm far from interested in that crap!" he sniped, shaking his head fervently, feeling even more embarrassed than before. Harry had lost the count of worrisome situations he had been in since Malfoy had ended up in his room.

"Well it sure sounded like a date to me, but if I'm not good enough to date the famous Mr. Potter, well then, I'll assist you to your thing then," Malfoy sneered. Harry's eyes almost rolled out of his eye-sockets. Malfoy always knew exactly what to say, while Harry just made a fool of himself.

"That's not- Never mind. Thanks for coming along," Harry muttered under his breath, feeling ridiculous for faltering in front of Malfoy. Malfoy would accompany him, and that was the positive part. How pleasant his company would be was another question.

Draco smiled, making his way down the stairs. He would give the whole Malfoy fortune away to see Potter's face again. How it had heated up, until even his ears were magenta. He had not forgotten the priceless face from a half hours ago, green eyes dusted with lust.

He had never thought Potter would be so prudish about a date, but it turned out Malfoy rather liked the image of a bashful Potter. It was so easy to get under his skin. The way their bodies had been reacting was very unhealthy. Draco found it very alarming, knowing that he shouldn't be thinking about Potter this way, but he wasn't able to forget their previous moment in the shower.

It had been so unexpected, new, fascinating and thrilling. Nor had he forgotten about Potter's moment in the shower. That had been extremely lascivious. Seeing the Boy Who Lived like that was a gift of God, and Draco doubted anyone had ever seen him like that.

Draco had to admit he used to have a soft spot for Potter. He had always wanted to be friends with the boy, ever since first year. But the selfish bastard had decided otherwise. Still, his feelings of appreciation and liking towards the man seemingly hadn't faded.

Draco sighed, sitting down in front of a peevish Potter at the kitchen table.

"When's this performance?" he asked, spooning some eggs and bacon onto his plate.

"This afternoon actually. I'm sorry for acting like an imbecile," Potter apologized. Somehow, seeing Potter admitting that he was 'an imbecile sometimes' was very funny. He decided not to humiliate the Savior even more while the morning had been filled by embarrassing moments, and kept the subject from his first sentence.

"It's alright. Why do you even go? Just pretend you went and throw the tickets away or something," he continued; bringing his fork to his mouth and chewing thoughtfully.

"I can't do that. Hermione would have figured it out with one look. She can see right through me," Potter confessed. This didn't surprise Draco. He knew the Mudblood was very intelligent and a great witch, no matter how often his father said that all Muggleborns were crap. But to be honest, it wasn't all that difficult to see through Potter. The man probably didn't know, but his eyes spoke volumes.

They ate in silence for a while before Draco cleared his throat.

"Thanks for letting me stay here, Potter, that's very kind of you."

"I never thought I'd hear you say my name and 'kind' in the same sentence. It's no problem though, I would love to see you feed the animals later," Potter gloated. Draco deserved this retort. He had already caused the former Gryffindor enough stress as it was.

Draco grimaced at that, not looking forward to be in one room with a bunch of pigs. But well, he would put his pride aside to show Potter he could do anything.

That evening, they arrived back at the farm, returning from the opera. Harry had thought it would be enormously boring, but Malfoy had been an enjoyable companion. While Harry was just looking dully at the performers, Malfoy had managed to make Harry laugh, imitating the performers' singing faces.

At almost every high pitched note, there had been tears of mirth in Harry's eyes, and by the time it was over, his eyes were so red that other visitors were convinced he had been touched by the sad ending. It had been a great choice choosing Malfoy to come along.

They arrived just in time for dinner. They sat down in silence, Harry still chuckling from his fit of laughter. He filled his plate with roasted chicken and mashed potatoes.

"That was so much fun, you know," Harry smiled at an observing Malfoy. He was cutting his chicken into equal pieces, while watching Harry bite a chunk off. Harry's smile was glued to his face

"It sure looks like it has been fun," he responded, a glimpse of a smile on his face. This only made Harry's smile widen. It was good to see Malfoy enjoying himself with him. He appreciated the man more than he had thought he would do. He observed his soft features, looking at the small facial lines forming around his eyes because of his smile.

"It's our turn to do the dishes tonight. I hadn't told you yet, thought you might like the surprise," Harry teased, smiling even wider at the blonde. Malfoy's smile fades, making room for a scowl.

"Thanks a lot Potter," Malfoy glared, finishing his meal. Harry didn't feel intimidated by his glare. Malfoy dabbed his mouth with his napkin, placing it next to his plate afterwards.

"You're welcome," Harry replied joyfully. They rose simultaneously. As they made their way to the counter, their arms brushed briefly, almost making Harry freeze in his movement. A tingling sensation made its way through his arm, down to his belly.

Harry ignored the feeling, turning the water tap and starting to fill the sink. He took the dirty plates and threw a towel at Malfoy.

"You're drying." Malfoy pulled a face, caught the towel and came standing next to Harry. Although there were at least 20 centimeters between them, Harry felt very ill-at-ease with his presence. If he had it his way, he would knock the man down and strip off every single bit of his clothes. Harry didn't allow his thoughts to go any further than that, afraid to activate a bloodstream towards his vital parts.

He cleaned the dishes and neither of them spoke when suddenly the electricity went off.

"Huh? What's happening?" Malfoy exclaimed in horror. Harry tried to keep himself from smiling at that. How was it that he found Malfoy's high pitched exclamations so funny?

"Oh. The power went down," Harry shrugged. He was used to living with electricity, while Malfoy probably didn't know what it was. The safety fuses were overloaded at the Dursleys sometimes. This was probably the same thing. Harry dried his hands, it was no use cleaning dishes in the dark, they wouldn't see what they were doing.

"Power went down? What's that supposed to mean? Why is it dark, Potter?" Malfoy demanded, nuisance sounding through his voice.

"It's nothing. The Muggles use electricity to have light. And it's probably switched off. I'll go find the hostess and ask what's going on, okay?" Harry explained, in a tone he would use to talk to a four-year-old. Malfoy just sighed, throwing his towel on the counter. Harry was about to leave the kitchen but bumped into someone in the doorway.

Harry stepped back to see who it was, and could conclude it was the hostess, she was carrying a candle, which made the room seem dim, but at least they could see where they were going now.

"The electricity went down in the entire street, probably because of a storm that's coming up. It'll take a few hours to get it back on. You'd better go up to your rooms and sleep a bit until it's back. There isn't much you can do in the dark," the woman said with a French accent. Harry nodded in reply, but her explanation was clearly not enough for Malfoy.

"What? A few hours?" Malfoy groaned. Harry rolled his eyes. Of course the blonde would make a scene out of it. It would be very unlike Malfoy to remain silent and to as he was told. Harry didn't want him to do that in front of the housewife, so he quickly interrupted.

"We'll just go upstairs, Madame, thanks. Can we use the candle?"

"Of course, my dear. Soyez prudent," the Muggle smiled, handing him over the candle. They climbed the stairs in silence. The rain hammered on the roof and the wind howled against the windows. Harry placed the candle on the desk and flopped down in an arm chair.

When they had returned from the Opera, it hadn't been raining, so it really surprised Harry that the weather had turned like this. Well, there probably had been some dark clouds, Harry admitted. Malfoy sat down on the bed elegantly and sighed.

"I can't believe this. Those stupid Muggles don't even know how to fix their lights," he spat.

"Don't start Malfoy. There's nothing you can do about it," Harry bickered. Why did Malfoy always have to whine? The candle lit the room just enough to see everything. They weren't even obliged to go to bed. Harry could very well read a book in the candlelight.

"I'm using my wand Potter. I don't want to sit in the dark all evening."

"You can't use magic in front of Muggles, Malfoy! You should know and respect that, as an Auror!" Harry barked. This was the second time he intended to use magic in front of Muggles, and it startled Harry. How could he be so mindless?

Malfoy got up, shuffling to his luggage. Harry rose too, ready to stop him from taking his wand, as the window flew open and a whirlwind blew out the candle. It was pitch dark. Harry couldn't see what Malfoy was doing, but he heard him rustling through his luggage.

"Where's the stupid wand?!" Malfoy cursed. Harry shambled to where he thought Malfoy was standing and grumbled: "Don't be an idiot, Malfoy. They'll arrest you right away if you do this. I once used Magic in front of Dudley, who knew I was a wizard and they almost put me in Azkaban for it."

"They're not putting someone in Azkaban for a stupid lumos, Potter! I'm not sitting here in the dark!" Malfoy fumed. "Here it is." Malfoy grabbed his wand, as Harry reached to stop him. He got a grip of his arm and bumped against him. Malfoy didn't let go and pushed back.

"Let go!" Harry bellowed. He tried to unlace Malfoy's fingers from his wand, as he pushed away Malfoy's other hand.

"No! It's mine! You let go of it!" Malfoy roared. Harry shifted until his back pushed against Malfoy's chest and attempted to pick the wand, but froze in the middle of his gesture.

Malfoy's sexual arousal was pressing against Harry's arse, but instead of being disgusted, he blushed. He stayed put, Malfoy breathing in his neck. The hot breath tickled his skin, sending shivers down his spine. Harry had never felt so aroused before, not with anyone. Why did he always have to be aroused by their stupid fights? But Harry's mind was to fuzzy to think about that stuff right now.

The only thing he wanted to do was turn around and discover every single spot on Malfoy's pale, delicate body.

Draco was seething. The thought of being forced to sit in the dark like a stupid child had ruined his good mood from the Opera. It had been a very pleasant day so far, but he could tan Potter's hide right now. He had just gotten hold of his wand when Potter budged against him. His ass was pressing against the centre of his body, making Draco flinch in realization.

His anger vanished like fresh snow and all the sexual tension from the days before took him over. He didn't move a muscle, his chest pressing against Potter's back. Potter's delicious smell penetrated his nose, making his brain go fuzzy. Why did he have to feel all worked up when he wanted to win this quarrel?

Potter must've noticed his arousal, because he suddenly stopped moving too, his buttocks remaining right where Draco wanted them to be. He tried his best not to wrap his hands around Potter's hips, or pressing his erection against his ass. Draco's head became foggy, fantasizing about Potter in a way he shouldn't. He tried to block his thoughts, but it was impossible to do so, being in their present posture.

Slowly, Potter turned around to face him. Draco could see the outline of his face and his bright green eyes in the twilight. Draco's hands made their way around Potter's waist without even noticing they did. He could feel Potter's breath on his lips, parting his own in desire. His eyes were drowning to Potter's, his lips itching to be kissed.

They were standing so close, he could count Potter's eyelashes. Draco leaned forward, not closing his eyes because he was afraid Potter could disappear any moment, tiding over the last few centimeters between them.

Their lips met, and it was as if someone had started a firework inside Draco. Potter's lips were warm and soft, feeling like they had never been kissed before. Potter kissed him back fiercely, deepening the kiss. Draco opened his mouth willingly, tasting Potter completely, his mind becoming hazy.

Their tongues moved passionately in harmony, and Draco pulled Potter closer, feeling his erection pressing against his own. The kiss only tasted like more, Draco didn't want to pull away, not wanting it to end. He embraced him ardently, breaking the kiss as they both gasped for air.

Draco looked up at a flushed Potter, drowning in his green orbs. The world seemed to have stopped spinning, and Draco knew he was right where he wanted to be.

To be continued…

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