Author's Note: Hey guys! I hope that the last chapter got your attention! We're switching back to Draco's POV now. :)

Chapter 16

Oh gods, Draco thought, panic and euphoria and shock all running through his veins at the same time. This is really happening, this is really happening, he's going to kiss me right here and now in front of all these people and I don't even give a fuck anymore—

Potter was mere breaths away from him now. He were so close, in fact, that Draco could feel his warm breath on his own lips—it seemed like they were frozen there for ages, neither one of them moving to close the tiny distance between them. Oh gods, could Potter hurry the fuck up before Draco died? After a few slow, painful moments, Potter finally pressed his lips to the corner of Draco's mouth, barely brushing it. Then he pulled back, his vivid green gaze penetrating and flashing with something that Draco couldn't detect. It had been so brief, but Draco didn't mind. Oh, sweet Merlin, he didn't mind at all.

"He's all yours, Malfoy," Granger said quietly now.

Draco paused and shot her a guilty look. He hadn't meant to just explode like that in front of everybody. Even if he didn't like her all that much, he hadn't meant to embarrass her... or himself, for that matter. He shook his head. "Granger, I..."

She smiled at him. "It's okay."

Potter pulled Draco closer, bringing him back. "Hey, remember me?"

Draco smirked. "Who?" he teased.

Potter grinned and began kissing Draco's jawline all the way down to his throat in response. Draco's breath hitched and he looked up towards the ceiling, allowing the other boy more access. Oh gods, he couldn't believe it—Harry Potter was kissing him, Harry Potter wanted him, Harry Potter... fuck. It was so fucking awesome. He didn't even want to describe it—not that he really could, anyways. Potter was effectively dulling Draco's senses at the moment.

"Bloody hell…" came a voice from a few feet away. Draco looked down sharply to see the Weasel's face, stricken with wonder and slight disgust at the sight before him. The others around them had matching expressions, if not a little more disgust than so, and Draco blushed and glared at the ground. He'd almost forgotten that they were still playing a game. Damn them all for ruining a perfectly potential orgasm.

"Bloody hell is right," Pansy breathed, smiling softly at Draco. "I didn't realise Potter was going to do that."

Blaise lifted his wand and undid the silence spell, despite his orders. "I told you, Draco," he boasted. "You should have just went for it. That way, we wouldn't have had to humiliate you like this. Although, of course, it is for your own benefit... Isn't that right, Harry?" He winked at Potter before Granger promptly put Blaise back under the silence spell.

Granger gave Potter an affectionate look. "I think they've had enough for one night," she remarked. "Pansy, could you—"

Pansy flicked her wand before Granger could finish and her spell let Potter and Draco go. Some of the others began to protest, but she ignored them. "Have a good night, boys," she said, flashing them a suggestive smile. Draco glared at her for a moment, but he couldn't stay mad. Not after what had just happened.

Draco started for the boys' dorms with Potter trailing after him, neither of them uttering a single word as they went. Despite the silence, Draco had never felt lighter in his entire life. Who would have thought that Potter had felt the same way about him? Could it be possible that Potter had been in the state Draco had been in for the past few weeks—misplaced, misused, weak at the knees, can't-stop-staring infatuation? Draco shook his head a little. Perhaps he was just loony. That was actually very possible.

As soon as they arrived in their dorm Draco climbed into bed, making sure that Rebecca was still sleeping. Potter must have camped out here during the party, as the sheets were slightly mussed and his pillow bore a Potter-shaped dent, as well as the fact that Rebecca was perfectly tucked in. Draco tried not to grin at the thought. Soon after, Potter joined him and pulled his shirt over his head, as was routine. Draco couldn't stop himself from staring quite openly. Merlin, right now, he was the luckiest bastard in the world.

Potter caught his eye and blushed. "I—you—we, I mean—" he stammered.

Draco let him stutter awkwardly for a few more moments before speaking. "Honestly, Potter, I've seen you shirtless every night for the past month," he remarked. "You don't have to be shy now."

Potter grinned at him, grateful. "Oh. Right."

Draco deliberately let his eyes trail down Potter's body in appreciation. "Though, I can't say I haven't enjoyed the view now and again," he confessed, an evil smirk growing on his face. Who said that he couldn't have a bit of fun with it? Potter blushed again, but he rolled his eyes now.

"You're a prat," Potter informed him.

Draco laughed. "Old news," he said offhandedly. "Come back with something better."

Potter snorted. "Goodnight, Malfoy," he muttered, pulling the covers over his body and rolling over.

"Night," said Draco softly, letting the smile take over his face now. The lights were drawn and Draco lay in silence for a few moments before he felt Potter's hand reach out and grab his. "What—?" he mumbled, before hearing quiet shifting above him. In the darkness, he could barely make out the faint lining of Potter's head above him... Still, Draco could have sworn that Potter was smiling.

"I just thought that we should hold hands while we're awake, too," Potter whispered.

Draco felt himself grow warm. He hadn't realised that Potter had ever noticed that. Draco was a light sleeper, so he tended to wake up during the night—well, most nights, that is. And every night he'd take Potter's hand in his before falling back asleep, knowing that if Potter should wake before him that it would look like an accident. Besides, Potter had never said anything about it before. Draco smiled. "I'd like that," he murmured back. He felt the other boy's presence leave from above him, and he lay there for a few more minutes, letting his thumb draw tiny circles on Potter's palm.

"Malfoy?"

"Hm?"

Potter was above him again. "I'm sorry that I didn't kiss you properly before," he said. "I didn't want to get carried away."

Draco was quiet. Was Potter really apologising for that? "You could make it up to me," he replied, anyway.

Potter was very still, as if he didn't know what that was supposed to mean, and Draco sighed somewhat irritably. Potter really couldn't be that dense... Without another word, Draco placed his hand on the nape of Potter's neck and brought the other boy's face directly towards his, kissing him full on the mouth—and almost gasped at the initial sensation of the kiss; sharp tingles and heat spread throughout his body like wildfire. With no immediate response from the other boy, he took full control, exploring Potter's mouth with tentative enthusiasm... Potter's lips were soft and full and they tasted of spearmint, the kind of toothpaste Potter used before bed. Had Potter been to the washroom?

Then, without warning, Potter suddenly began to react with equal speculation and Draco felt as if a jolt of electricity had shot through him—holy shit, it was even more marvelous with actual participation(!). Potter lips were slow, now moving languidly against Draco's, but they soon grew more insistent, and before long he was nibbling and sucking at Draco's mouth with gusto. Oh, fuck. It was almost sinful—Potter was nearly caressing Draco's bottom lip. Caressing! Draco let out a soft moan, not even caring that Potter could hear it. The sound seemed to do something to the other boy, and Potter shifted so that he was now on top of Draco. They paused for a moment, staring at each other with heavy breaths.

Potter's mouth was slightly pink and swollen, but he didn't seem to realise it. The boy only pressed down on Draco, a strange, animalistic glint in his eye, and Draco realised that Potter was taking control, and oh, it didn't even matter—couldn't—it felt so fantastic that Draco wouldn't even dream of telling Potter to stop. Was that wrong? He ran his hands down Potter's gloriously naked chest. Potter grinned now, still glowing, and dove down to take heed to Draco's throat.

Draco gasped. "Oh my god—" he moaned loudly, unable to keep quiet any longer. "Potter, oh!"

Potter ignored him, biting and sucking at Draco's throat and jaw, and then planting tiny kisses where Draco was sure there would be red marks forming. It was as if Potter was striking at him, and then comforting him once more... The other boy started to move down Draco's body, and Merlin, they were both painfully aroused at this point. Draco had never been this turned on in his whole damned life.

"P-P-Potter!" he stuttered. "Please, I can't, I need more—"

Potter seemed to understand and curled his fingers around the trim of Draco's bottoms. But just as he was about to pull them down, the curtains shot apart around the bed, exposing them to the night air. Both boys froze in the act.

Nott was standing there with an annoyed expression on his face. "Really guys, if I wanted to hear two blokes having obnoxious and unnecessarily loud sex, I'd rent a gay porno," he remarked with sarcasm. "At least use a Silencing charm before you fuck, would you?"

Draco heard Blaise snicker a couple feet away. "Why rent porn when you've got a free show in the next bed, Nott?" the boy asked slyly, causing everybody in the room to give him matching glares.

"When did you guys even come in?" Potter demanded, looking almost murderous. "I thought you were all in the Common room."

"Weasley couldn't take the heat," Blaise announced. "He didn't want to give me a blowjob, so he threatened Pansy that he'd sabotage their project if she didn't let him go... And then Longbottom got scared, so Granger had to take them back to Gryffindor. I mean, honestly."

Potter gaped at him.

"I don't see the problem," Nott said, grinning a little now.

Blaise shrugged. "Beats me."

"Hey, here's an idea," Draco said darkly, glaring at his two dormmates with equal amounts of vexation. "Why don't you both think long and hard about that after you shut the fucking curtains and go the fuck to bed."

Nott raised an eyebrow. "We all want to get the fuck in bed, Malfoy, trust me. But, sure." He shot Draco an evil smile. "I suppose you've got a long and hard prospect of your own to take care of anyways, don't you?"

Draco only stared him down, now remembering that his friends had heard Draco piteously moaning Potter's name and begging him for more. Great. Of course, it was just icing on the metaphorical cake that they had also seen Potter clearly dominating a willing and submissive Draco. He pursed his lips. No. Draco Malfoy was not submissive.

"Fine," Nott huffed, after receiving no response from Draco. "Night."

"Goodnight, boys," Blaise added. Draco only stared.

There was a long, heavy silence after the curtains whipped shut and the darkness reclaimed itself. Well, the mood was completely ruined now. Draco couldn't get it back even if he tried—all he could think of now were the taunting snickers of his two nosy friends. He glanced up at Potter, who was looking down at him, and nodded his head. Potter rolled off of Draco to his own side again; he seemed to feel the same way.

"Um. Night, Malfoy," Potter said quietly.

Draco grunted a little in response and turned over, trying to ignore his ever present hard-on. He wondered if Potter was as uncomfortable as he was right now—although by the looks of it, he most certainly was. Before Draco could complain or sulk, however, Potter grabbed Draco's hand before curling up next to him. And Rebecca, who had been pushed off to the side during the tryst, was now snuggled between them. By then, Draco could hardly even bring himself to frown.

~x~

"Aw, fuck."

Draco peered into the mirror, inspecting the bright red, angry marks that Potter had left all over his throat and collarbone. Literally, all over. Merlin, it had seemed like a good idea at the time... Of course, he was never trusting his own judgement ever again when it came to Potter and snogging. Disastrous. Draco sighed and pulled a grey cashmere turtleneck over his head with a frown. After, he threw his school robes over it. It certainly wasn't in the dress code, but Draco couldn't risk walking around with a grand display of love bites given to him by Harry Potter—and there was no way that Draco was going to request Professor Snape to help him with his Glamour charm (unfortunately, Draco wasn't very good at it). This would have to do for now.

From the other side of the dorm, Blaise glanced over and smirked. "Nice look, Draco. Very new age. But I'm afraid that it's covering up some of your best features." He snickered and winked at both Draco and Potter, who was currently dressing as well.

Potter shot Draco an apologetic look. "Sorry about that."

Draco shrugged. "I don't mind them, really," he lied. "As long as you intend to let me give you some."

Potter's eyes brightened. "Oh, I intend."

Draco smiled and sauntered over towards the other boy, letting Potter give him a proper kiss, for Blaise's sake. The other Slytherin was still snickering loudly. Draco pulled away from Potter and sighed. "Now out, Zabini." Blaise gave them a thumbs-up before walking out of the room and Draco turned back to Potter.

"So… what are we doing now?" Potter questioned, searching Draco's eyes carefully.

Draco tilted his head. "What do you want to do?"

Potter gazed at him a bit longer. "This," he murmured.

Draco didn't even hesitate. He clutched Potter's waist and brought him closer; Potter tensed up slightly as Draco began kissing and sucking at his throat, the way Potter had the night before. Draco smiled with satisfaction as he saw the unmistakable red marks begin to form on Potter's lovely skin. "Me too," he whispered in Potter's ear now, letting the ghost of his breath send a shiver down the other boy's spine.

Potter just smiled, dazed. He didn't seem to mind that Draco had given him matching bites. "So we're... a thing now?" he asked.

Draco thought for a moment. "Yes." He glanced at Potter.

"Okay."

"Do you want to keep it a secret?"

The other boy just shrugged. He didn't seem to care either way—and that suited Draco just fine. Better than fine, actually.

"Well, shall I loan you a jumper then?" Draco asked now, gesturing towards Potter's now-marked throat. Draco was all-too-aware that Potter didn't own turtlenecks—or any decent clothing, for that matter, and he was right. Potter needed all the help he could get.

Potter grinned. "Gimme a red one," he said, obviously just to spite Draco.

"Do I look like a bloody Gryffindor?" Draco snapped. "No, take black. You look fit in darker colours, I must say."

Potter just snorted and let Draco give him a black turtleneck; it was also cashmere, so Draco promptly warned Potter not to ruin it with his infamous incompetence. Potter had just snorted again before grabbing his things and leading the way to the Great Hall. Draco shook his head and followed.

As soon as they had arrived at the table for breakfast, Blaise and Nott had given them knowing looks at their matching turtlenecks peeping out from under their robes. Draco glared, daring either of them to say anything about it, and of course, Blaise could not resist.

"Where are we going, guys? Family vacation to the Alps?" Blaise asked innocently, tossing a spoon of eggs onto his breakfast plate.

"Shouldn't Rebecca have one too, then?" Nott added, in the same tone. "I reckon it gets rather cold up there. I hope you've gotten enough rest—by the way, how did that long and hard thing work out for you two last night? Good?"

Blaise guffawed. Draco could not have glared harder—but his hexes might do the trick. His hand twitched near the wand in his robes pocket, but Potter stopped him before he could do anything. Draco gave the other boy a calculating look, but Potter only smiled and laced his fingers through Draco's underneath the table. Now Draco couldn't help but take a deep breath and smile back. Honestly, Potter was doing wonders for his temper—and that was something that Draco had never thought he'd say before.

"Laugh all you want, fellows," Potter said casually, piling his own plate with food. "You're not invited."

"Skiing is for fairies anyway," Nott countered sourly.

Blaise sniffed. "I've never fancied it."

"That's funny, because you'd need ice to treat a burn." Potter smiled politely.

Blaise only rolled his eyes and Nott scoffed at him. Draco grinned at Potter and Potter winked back, squeezing Draco's hand gently. Draco felt his heart jump, wanting to kiss Potter right then and there—honestly, the more time Potter spent with the Slytherins, the more impressed Draco grew. However, Draco refrained from giving the whole Great Hall an early morning show and just squeezed Potter's hand back. Oh, it was so nice to feel wanted. Draco had never experienced this feeling, this feeling that somebody cared about him... well his mother had cared about him, but that was different. Completely different. This was the kind of concern that made Draco's skin crawl with pleasure and his body tingle with anticipation. Furthermore, it wasn't just anybody—it was Harry Potter. Harry Potter fancied him. Harry Potter cared about him. Harry Potter wanted him. That alone could make anyone feel special.

~x~

Later that day, Potter and Draco walked to Marriage Sex and Family together side-by-side, chatting absently; Rebecca was cradled in Potter's grasp. It had been a rather uneventful day so far, considering the night before. But Draco liked it that way: and he liked that things with Potter had not gotten all weird or different or too relationship-y. They were still... friends. Draco watched Potter's expressions shift as he talked about something—Quidditch or another matter—with varied levels of interest. It was really nice.

Class had not started yet when Draco and Potter walked in, and Granger and Weasley called Potter over to chat. Draco trailed after him, not quite sure whether or not he was supposed to.

"Hey Harry," Granger greeted brightly. "And Malfoy, hey."

Draco gave her a genuine smile, still feeling a bit bad from the previous night. "Granger, it's lovely to see you," he said.

Weasley looked at him as though he'd gone mad, but Granger beamed. "The feeling's mutual," she assured him. Draco saw her steal a stern glance towards Weasley; however, when the redhead looked away to roll his eyes at Potter, Granger's expression went from scolding to longing instead. Ah. Draco raised his brows. So Granger really did fancy the Weasel. How had Draco not noticed that before? Especially in Sixth year, when Weasley had gone out with that Gryffindor slut... Lavender Brown or some other...

"Hey, Malfoy?" Potter asked, bringing his attention back. "Could you hold Becca for a second, I've got to get something out from my bag."

"Give her here, Potter," Draco muttered, scooping Rebecca into his arms before catching a glimpse of Granger staring at them with a slightly incredulous look on her face. He frowned at her. "What?"

She wrinkled her brow. "You… Why do you still call each other by surname?" she asked. "Aren't you… I mean, last night, didn't you get—"

Draco snorted. Potter grinned. "Hermione, I know that it's difficult for you to believe, but Malfoy and I have been calling each other by these names for as long as we've known each other," Potter explained. "They've kind of… stuck. I don't know. Do you mind it, Malfoy?"

Draco shrugged. "I feel exactly the same way," he confessed.

Potter's grin grew and Draco felt light again. It was nice how in sync they were sometimes.

"Sit down, children."

By now, Snape had sauntered into the room with a dramatic gesture, and all of the students scrambled for their seats and waited for his instruction, as per usual. The man narrowed his eyes. "Today we will be continuing our trust exercises," he sneered. "You should have reached the CPR portion by now. This is a procedure that Muggles use if one has come close to drowning to death. We shall have a demonstration before we begin."

Draco smirked as he noticed Snape carefully avoiding him and Potter—the big git wouldn't pull that stunt again as a result of last time. After the class had watched Longbottom and Lovegood practise what looked like to be an excuse for snogging, they were all released to start on the exercise themselves. Draco couldn't wait. He and Potter went to their little corner and sat down.

"Ready for this?" Potter asked, pushing his sleeves up.

Draco appraised him. "You first," he insisted.

Potter raised an eyebrow, but lay down on his back anyways. Draco leaned over him and grinned. Of course, he liked it better this way—him towering over Potter with the upperhand... at least, it gave him a bit more validation after what had happened with Blaise and Nott. Besides, he'd never pass up a chance to snog Potter first, and in public, too. But just as he was about to plant his lips on Potter's, he heard a familiar drawling voice pipe up behind him.

"Judging by your previous endeavours, Mr. Potter, I am reluctant to ask, but why do you continuously insist on breaking the dress code in my classroom?" Snape boomed, causing Draco to rise from his crouching position. Snape eyed him as well. "And you, Mr. Malfoy, I expect better of you. Just because I assigned you to be a couple does not mean that you must wear coordinating outfits to class." Snape's mouth broke out into a satisfied smirk as the students around them tittered. "I must ask you to change into the proper uniform," he drawled.

"Wait—" Potter lifted himself off of the ground and held his hand out in a feeble attempt to block himself from another unwanted surprise spell. "We can't do that, we'd miss precious class time... Besides, we'll change after class, won't we, Malfoy?" Draco nodded, though he knew that it was a weak attempt and Snape would never allow it. They were doomed.

Snape narrowed his eyes. "You will do as I say, Potter, or I will be forced to take the matter into my own hands."

"You don't want a repeat of last time, do you, Professor?" Potter asked, his green eyes flashing in challenge.

Snape grinned malevolently. "Ah, but I will be conjuring up clothing for you, not taking it away," he pointed out. "Unless you have something else to hide... If that is the case, then I am deeply intrigued. What is it, Potter?"

Potter's strong gaze faltered. "I—"

"Right, that is what I assumed." Snape lifted his wand and pointed it at the two of them. Draco shut his eyes tightly and felt his clothing shift around him, and suddenly, the skin on his neck was a lot cooler than it had been before. He cracked one eye open and saw Snape staring at their matching marks. "Well, well, gentlemen," he said loudly. "Coordinating outfits and coordinating love bites. That is positively charming."

Everyone had turned to watch and was staring at them now, whispering and pointing at the red marks littering their throats. Oh, bloody hell. This wasn't the way that Draco had imagined their first coming-out to be. He turned slowly to Potter, whose face was frozen in a mix of shock and mortification, and sighed. The Gryffindor was clearly on the verge of a magical breakdown.

"Potter, this is not the time," Draco hissed. "Don't..."

Potter grimaced. "Malfoy, I..."

"This is why you two should have gone to the Alps!" Blaise shouted from across the room.

Draco scowled at him before turning towards his professor, who was still staring down at them expectantly. Draco gave him a pleasant nod. "Excuse us, Professor, for we have been excessively rude," he said. "Of course, we only wish to participate in our general education."

Then, without warning, Draco lunged at Potter and knocked him to the floor again, earning himself another look of shock from the Gryffindor. Draco just gave him a saucy wink and leaned down. "Fuck 'em," he whispered, before capturing Potter's mouth in a heated kiss. Draco barely heard the shouts and catcalls surrounding them; he only heard Potter's soft sighs and felt Potter's hands on his collar and the way his lips moved...

"That is enough!" Snape bellowed, his normally sallow face an unattractive shade of red. "I—I shall not tolerate this foolish behaviour in my classroom!"

Draco sat up now, both him and Potter panting a little from their tryst. He grinned sweetly at Snape. "But Professor, we are only fulfilling today's lesson," he insisted, watching as the famed wordsmith actually fumbled for a response. "Cardiopulmonary resuscitation, was it not?"

Author's Note: LOL