Forgive me for the year long absence! I have written and rewritten this chapter many times, and read many stories in order to get inspiration. I am still so unsure of how to write these things... Anyways... Thank you all for reading these stories. Maybe Harry Potter isn't my fanfiction calling.
Janto4ever: You are quite splendid. Very clever. AVPM is pretty amazing.
Aikoyu Saotome: You are also very splendid. Thank you guys for bringing up my hope that good people still exist.
Harry sat in the chair in the coffee shop, listening as the blonde across from him ranted about his new obsession: Star Trek. But Harry wasn't registering what Draco was saying; he was staring- no- admiring Draco's prominent feature: his sharp nose, high cheekbones, pointed chin, full, luscious lips; what could Harry say? Draco was perfect.
Harry watched the way Draco's lips moved, parting and forming words, with a glistening pink tongue darting out every so often to wet the lips, leaving them fuller and lovelier than before. Draco's silver eyes sparkled with emotion, his cheeks becoming pinker and pinker as his rant deepened. Another fascinating thing about Draco that Harry noticed was Draco's tendency to use his hands as an aid for the meaning he was conveying. Those slender hands… Harry often fantasized about holding them and never letting go until his last breath.
Perhaps this isn't, and never will be, love, nor true love, Harry thought. Harry didn't believe in love to begin with. At least, not in the way everyone seemed to use it. Love, to Harry, was when you wanted the best for someone. Love was when you could say, honestly, that you will always be there for them, no matter what, and truly mean it.
It wasn't love; not yet. All that Harry knew was that for now, Draco was his.
"Harry!" The name puffed past Draco's lips, forming a tone of disbelief and a tinge of annoyance. "Have you listened to a word I said?" Harry, jerking from his trance and inner thought, stared with a look of confusion at Draco, unsure about how to answer.
"Yes," Harry ushered, the cogs in his brain churning, thinking. He took one of Draco's cold hands into his. "I will always listen," and Harry meant it. He lifted the appendage in his hand to his lips, pressing them lightly against the skin. Draco blushed deeply, his mouth opening and closing like a fish, unsure of what to say; he was taken aback. His heart began to pound, the steady rhythm becoming sporadic.
"G-good," Draco stuttered, pulling his hand away from Harry, stuffing it into his lap to be cradled by his other. He wasn't sure how to feel or what to say. Ever since that hot, sweaty day in the classroom, Draco had tortured himself examining what Harry meant to him. What would happen next? Will we tell people? Do I really have a crush on the person I've been fighting with for years? Draco, who had built a name for himself, couldn't let it be known that he was a softie who was dating his worst enemy.
Yet, there was somewhere deep down that wanted everyone to know.
Harry noticed that Draco was out of it. One eye was twitching slightly, his upper teeth biting down on his upper lip, giving him the look of a mad man. But only slightly.
"Very sexy," Harry said, sultrily. Draco started, his hand brushing the blue teacup sitting in front of him on a platter. A few drops of Earl Grey tea splashed onto the dark brown wooden table. As the words sunk in, Draco's eyes widened, his jaw tightening, teeth no longer biting. Harry couldn't tell if he was angry or surprised. Draco suddenly stood up, knocking his chair back, creating a screeching noise that echoed slightly through the coffee house. The man stalked out of the glass door, leading to the unforgiving London weather, the bell 'ting'ing behind him. Harry threw a few quid on the table and went after Draco.
The bitter wind slapped Harry's virgin face, bringing tears to his eyes. He bound his Gryffindor scarf more tightly around his neck and face, hunching his shoulders against the cold which was piercing through his thick Sherlock Holmes style overcoat. A few feet to the right of him was Draco, walking quickly away from Harry, hands shoved in his thin coat's pocket, green and silver scarf billowing in the wind. By the stiffness of Draco's walk, Harry could tell he was becoming cold. Harry jogged the few paces that separated the two, wrapping his arms around the thin structure of the blonde. Harry's face pressed against Draco's back, pulling him closer.
"Don't leave me," Harry whispered, so quiet he though perhaps Draco couldn't have possibly heard. Draco stopped, swaying in his spot. He loosened Harry's arms, twisting around to face the shorter man with wild, black hair.
"Why would I leave?" Draco asked softly. He took Harry's face softly in between his hands, thumbs stroking the bright red cheeks. Harry melted under his touch, willing Draco to kiss him. Draco must have heard his inner wishes because he began to lean down, his lips stopping centimeters away from Harry's, a warm puff of air splaying across Harry's lips.
Harry lifted his head up, pressing their lips together. But this kiss was short and chaste. Draco pulled away far too quickly for Harry's liking, a sharp cry of dismay sounding from the short man.
"Where should we go?" The blonde queried.
"Home?"
"Yours or mine?"
"I don't have a home, nitwit."
"What about Grimmauld Place, huh?"
Harry stared at him with an open mouth. The wind scratched across his face, making his eyes tear up. The raven haired boy didn't say a word, but grabbed Draco, ran to the nearest alley, looked both ways and all around, hugged the man, and disapparated.
The world twisted and turned, blurs and lights surrounding them. The carnival ride ended, bringing the two men to a halting stop in front of dreary, repetitive houses. 12 Grimmauld Place slowly came into view, the houses besides it cracking from the force. Harry ran up and tore open the door, pulling Draco in.
Harry pushed Draco against the door, his lips attacking the blonde's. Draco was taken by surprise, unsure of what caused this sudden act of lust. But he gladly joined, snaking his arms beneath the heavy overcoat shielding Harry from the world, placing his hands on Harry's lower back, pulling their bodies closer together. Harry's arms were twisted around Draco's neck, fingers tangling in the silk strands of blonde hair. Harry took in Draco's bottom lip, sucking gently, gently biting the soft rose petal between his lips before returning it. The pair were getting slightly breathless as Harry's tongue tentatively ventured out, sliding against the set of lips before it, seeking for entrance. The lips parted, a warm breath passing between the two. Harry savored the warmth, the unique taste of his-should I dare say it?- boyfriend. He pressed his tongue against the sleeping dragon within its cavern, prodding it into action. The kiss began to deepen, Draco's fingers clenching at the fabric in his hands, pulling Harry closer and closer.
Harry broke the kiss, slowly taking off his jacket and hanging it on a hook near to door. Harry pulled Draco out from against the door and circled the blonde, his hands gliding across Draco's chest and shoulders, grasping the jacket's edges in his hands. He pulled off the thin jacket, fingers lingering every so often. Harry carefully put it on a hook, gently taking Draco's right hand in his left, leading Draco slowly to the living area.
Right, so, continue, yes? Sorry for the shortness... I stayed up all night trying to do this...