Potter gasped and looked at Draco, who shrugged. It was a bit gratifying, however, to realize Potter had fully expected them to win.
"The tie is between our amazing Auror team and the Best Friends Forever duo!"
Kimmy and Lisa squealed, joined hands, and bounced up and down excitedly for a moment.
"I can't believe it," Potter muttered.
"The dark-haired one is a pure-blood. I thought I recognized her. I've seen her at some of my mother's functions. She has a very old bloodline."
"Like a poodle?" Potter asked dryly.
Draco nudged him with an elbow and gave him a glare. Potter laughed and Draco felt something loosen in his chest. He had been annoyed that Potter's bloody fanboy had chosen to monopolize his time through the entirety of their journey to St Petersburg, but he supposed his partner was simply oblivious of Nigel's interest.
"Therefore, we will need to have a tie-breaker. I am going to hold up photos of assorted artworks and you will write down whether or not the item is Muggle or Magical. Anna, please hand these cards and quills to our Auror and Best Friend teams."
Draco took the set of large white cards and the quill. Potter stood next to him, biting his lip. Draco thought about telling him not to do that, because it was distracting.
"The first item is..." Lee held up a photo of a piece of jewellery.
"Honestly," Draco muttered and wrote. "This is ridiculous." He wrote MAGIC on the card.
"I've seen that," Potter murmured.
"I should think so. It's the Hope Diamond," Draco whispered.
"Oh yes!" Potter said, looking excited. "Isn't it - " He leaned close to Draco and finished, "Cursed?"
"Why would it be cursed?" Draco asked holding up his card when requested.
"Both correct! In 1749 the Hope Diamond was ordered reset by King Louis XV and it was cut into its current configuration by his court jeweller, Andre Jacquemin, a celebrated French Wizard."
"The Muggles believe it's cursed. Lots of horrible things have happened to people who owned it."
"Horrible things happen to people all the time, Potter." He looked disappointed and for a moment Draco wished the bloody thing was cursed just to see Potter's eyes light up. Draco sighed. Clearly the race was affecting his ability to rationalise.
The next photo showed a painting by Picasso. Draco and Kimmy - he knew the brunette was his real competition, since the blonde was looking as confused as Potter - both answered correctly. She glared at him.
"Huh, Muggle. I wouldn't have guessed."
"Which is why you aren't allowed to answer, Potter," Draco said.
The next three photos were answered correctly by them both, but Draco noted the challenge was getting more difficult. He had only guessed at the last photo, an impressionist painting whose style he thought he recognized, but only vaguely.
The next item was a jade pendant, ivory coloured with a stylized symbol cut out of the centre. "Shit," Draco breathed.
"What?" Potter asked.
"Asian art is not my forte," Draco admitted. "Mother never liked it. I'll have to guess."
"Fifty percent chance of guessing right," Potter said helpfully.
"I'm aware of that," Draco muttered through clenched teeth and wrote MAGIC. A very high percentage of art from China was magical. For that reason, he realized the item was more likely to be Muggle, so he started to scratch out the word and replace it.
"Cards up!" Lee yelled.
"Damn it." Draco held up his card and noted that Kimmy had written MUGGLE. The bint.
"A Muggle item it is! Kimmy and Lisa win the Museum Challenge and any single item from Flourish and Blotts in Diagon Alley, with a retail value of one hundred Galleons or less. Congratulations, Best Friends Forever!"
The shrieking that emanated from the girls was ear-piercing and Draco grimaced. Potter's hand dropped to his shoulder and squeezed. "It's all right," Potter said. "You were amazing. Really."
To his horror, Draco felt himself blush. "Thanks, Potter," he said simply and was only slightly disappointed when Potter's hand squeezed once more and then fell away.
ooOOooOOoo
Ron made derisive catcalls and thought about throwing his biscuit at the screen in disgust, but he knew Hermione would have something to say about that, so he stuffed it into his mouth instead and muttered around the crumbs. "Mat smucks."
"Don't talk with your mouth full, Ron," Hermione admonished. "They were very close. The dragon tamers came in last." She sounded disappointed.
"Good," Ron said after he'd swallowed and wiped his lips with the back of his hand. "They get the biggest penalty. Harry and Draco only got five minutes, yeah?"
Neville nodded. "Yeah, they should be able to make that up in no time."
As they watched, the teams mounted brooms. Kimmy and Lisa took off on Lee's signal, soaring from the roof of the Hermitage under a Disillusionment Charm meant to keep them from Muggle sight. The fact that the sun was setting helped.
"Where are they going?" Luna asked, returning from the loo.
"Shlisselburg. Thirty five kilometres."
"Easy jaunt." Ron snorted.
"Oreshek Fortress," Hermione added. "They'll have one more challenge before the elimination."
As they watched, Harry and Malfoy shot into the sky, flying so near to each other their sleeves brushed, and matching each other for speed.
"Yeah! Go Harry!" Ron yelled. He needed another butterbeer.
ooOOooOOoo
"There they are!" Harry yelled, squinting into the wind and pointing for Malfoy's benefit. He doubted his partner could hear him over the screaming air rushing past.
Malfoy nodded and they simultaneously put on a burst of speed in order to overtake the girls. Harry fought to keep the grin from his face. God, but it felt good to fly and with Malfoy next to him it almost felt like a Quidditch competition with each of them racing for the Snitch, except for the sense of shared camaraderie.
Kimmy and Lisa flew quickly, crouched low on their brooms, but Harry and Malfoy raced past them as though they were hovering in place. Muffled shrieks reached their ears and Malfoy lifted a lazy hand to wave at them while Harry laughed.
The darkness had grown and Harry knew they had to maintain their speed in order to locate their destination before night fell completely. Lights from a small city slowly came into view and Malfoy drew ahead and beckoned to Harry, gesturing for him to follow. Harry did so willingly, figuring Malfoy had a better idea where to go than he would, particularly since he had no idea.
Malfoy dropped lower and lower until they skimmed the river, most likely the River Neva, if it was the same one that flowed next to the Hermitage in St Petersburg. Malfoy did not pause when the river ended and became a large lake, instead heading for a small island.
Malfoy slowed as they neared and Harry peered down at the place as they circled it. It definitely looked like a fortress, as high stone walls surrounded nearly the entire perimeter of the island. The pointed roofs of three towers jutted into the sky.
A bright fuchsia square marked their destination and they both dropped like stones, pulling up at the last moment in an unconsciously competitive Wronski Feint move. Harry laughed as they slammed to a halt just before the wide-eyed crowd.
"Nice moves, Malfoy," he said.
Malfoy smirked at him as Lee Jordan recovered and stepped forward. "Congratulations to our Auror team for coming in first yet again! But the challenge is not over yet!"
Harry's heart sank at the news. Bloody what now?
"Somewhere in this fortress is the Victory Carpet. Each team must locate it and the last team to stand upon it will be eliminated. Harry and Draco, you have the lead at the moment. Let's see if you can maintain it! Through that door you will find your final challenge of the day. Good luck!" Lee glanced up. "Here comes the Best Friends' team now, followed by the Tea Shop Girls!"
Harry and Malfoy both dropped their brooms and bolted for the indicated door. Inside, they found a single attendant, one table, and two chairs. Atop the table sat an innocuous looking glass of clear liquid.
"Welcome to Schlisselburg," she said with a thick Russian accent that converted "welcome" into "velcome". "Which one of you is up for the vodka challenge?"
Harry stared in horror at the large glass that had suddenly become ominous. "Vodka challenge?"
She nodded. "The location of the final carpet will appear at the bottom of the glass once it is empty. Only one of you may drink. Who is it to be?"
The glass suddenly looked huge. It had to contain at least a litre of vodka.
"I'll do it," Malfoy said.
"You can't be serious. My body weight is greater than yours," Harry protested.
"Potter, I was weaned on alcohol. We drank it at every bloody function my parents ever held. How do you think I survived years of the Dark Lord invading my home?"
Before Harry could respond, Malfoy sat down and picked up the glass. He tipped his head back and started to drink.
"Fuck," Harry murmured and took the other seat to watch nervously.
Malfoy downed half of it before setting the glass down. A shudder wracked his lean frame and his face flushed red as he gasped for breath. Harry cringed sympathetically. He did not care for the taste of vodka and he knew the alcohol had to be burning like fire in Malfoy's oesophagus.
After a moment, Malfoy wiped an arm across his brow and picked up the glass once more. "Cheers, Potter," he said and drank again.
Malfoy nearly finished it that time. Harry scooted his chair closer and put a hand on Malfoy's shoulder.
"I'm all right. I just... don't like vodka very much." Another shudder wracked his form and Harry hoped he wouldn't vomit. Malfoy took several deep breaths and then gulped the last bit.
The glass instantly transformed into a map. Malfoy handed it to Harry and stood up to walk to the nearest stone wall and lean against it. "Did I eat today?" he asked.
"Not since breakfast," Harry said worriedly.
"Good choice. I'm going to be quite drunk in about three minutes, Potter. What does the map show?"
Harry tore his eyes from Malfoy and scanned the parchment. "We need to go to the Old Prison."
"Fabulous. Do you have any idea where that is?"
Harry looked at the map and tried to reconcile it with his memory of the grounds before they had landed. The map gave no indication of where they stood at the moment. "I think so. Can you walk?"
Malfoy glared at him. "Of course I can walk. I'm just catching my breath. Let's go." He looked steady enough when he pushed away from the wall and Harry nodded.
"We have to cross the courtyard."
"What if the others are just coming in? Won't they see where we're going?"
"Disillusionment Charm? Is it permitted?" Harry asked the woman, who nodded.
Harry quickly cast the spell on himself and Malfoy and then they headed out. Harry had disguised them to look like the few random wizarding tourists they had seen wandering the grounds. Harry wondered how they had shut down the fortress to Muggles for the duration of the challenge and decided it didn't matter.
"I hate being drunk," Malfoy said.
"Why?" Harry asked as he scanned the grounds and nodded when he spotted the area that looked like the Old Prison. He saw a pair of brooms swoop overhead and walked faster when he noted it was Rita Skeeter and her sidekick. He wondered if they were the last pair to arrive.
"Don't like to lose control," Malfoy said. He sighed heavily. "I'm tired of walking. Why did we throw down our brooms? Flying would be faster."
"I didn't think we would need them," Harry replied.
"That will teach you to think, Potter," Malfoy said with a grandiose wave of his hand. "You are not very good at it."
Harry clenched his jaw, stung. "Thank you. I am aware of that."
Malfoy was silent for a moment and the sound of their feet crunching on the gravel seemed loud. It was growing quite dark and Harry squinted, trying to determine the best way to enter the Old Prison. The map was very generic and non-specific, more of a sketch than a diagram.
"I don't think you're stupid," Malfoy said suddenly.
Harry glanced at him, trying not to reveal his surprise and he reached out a quick hand when Malfoy stumbled. "Careful," he said.
"I need to sit down." Malfoy leaned heavily on Harry.
"You can't sit down. We have to find the damn carpet, remember? You don't want us to be eliminated, do you?"
Malfoy looked up at Harry and pouted as he shook his head. "Gonna win. Gonna kick arse on those bloody girls and dragon hunter fanboys of yours."
"Tamers," Harry corrected, amused despite himself. "Dragon tamers."
Malfoy shoved away from him. "Don't care," he snapped. "Dragon hunters, tamers, fuckers. Bastards, 'specially that Nigel."
Harry blinked at him. "What's wrong with Nigel? He's sweet."
Malfoy glared at him. "I hate you, Potter."
Harry sighed. "Yes, I know. Can you start walking so that we can get this bloody contest over with and find you a bed to sleep off your excess vodka consumption?"
Malfoy straightened and began to march. Even though his gait was a bit unsteady, he was at least moving in the right direction. "Fine. You p'rolly sneak out at night t' meet with bastard Nigel."
Harry was baffled by Malfoy's words and decided to blame it on the vodka. "I do not sneak out and meet Nigel. Now be quiet and focus on walking, okay?"
Malfoy clamped his lips together and kept moving. By the time Harry located the correct part of the castle, a door, and steps leading downward, Malfoy was clinging to him and complaining bitterly.
"I'm cold. Make the wind stop, Potter."
"There's no wind in here, Malfoy. You're choking me. Do you think you can loosen your grip a bit? Not that much! Damn it, you'll fall down the steps and break your neck! Just hang on, but don't choke me, okay?"
They reached the base of the steps and Harry tried not to think about how nice Malfoy felt snuggled up next to him, even if he was a near dead-weight. "You smell good, Potter," Malfoy said and dragged Harry closer to bury his nose in Harry's throat and inhale. Harry's ability to think deserted him for a moment.
"Malfoy, um..."
"Do you taste good, too?"
"Oh god," Harry said as Malfoy's tongue flicked out and slid across Harry's jugular. "You're going to hate yourself if you remember this tomorrow."
Harry heard singing behind them and exchanged his grip on Malfoy for a more secure one before half-dragging him down the corridor. "Come on, someone is coming." They rounded a corner and Harry felt a wash of relief when he saw a small crowd grouped around a familiar-looking carpet. Finally!
"Walk just a little farther," Harry coaxed.
"Why?" Malfoy's voice was muffled by Harry's neck.
Harry replied by hauling him to the carpet to stand before Lee Jordan. Thankfully, Malfoy raised his head to blink at Lee.
"Jordan!" Malfoy said loudly. "You're a prick."
Lee laughed uproariously. "Brilliant. Apparently, Auror Malfoy is an even bigger tosser after guzzling a litre of vodka. Hard to believe, I know. Regardless, the Auror team of Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy are the first to reach safety on this leg of The Incredible Race! Congratulations, Auror Team. Harry, please enter the room to the left where you will be given further instructions. I will see you both in the morning."
Harry could only nod and pull Malfoy into the indicated room. He glanced back once to see Brendan hauling a staggering Nigel onto the carpet. Nigel was singing an off-key song at the top of his lungs, despite Brendan's best efforts to hush him. Harry didn't envy him - at least Malfoy was a relatively quiet drunk.
Inside the small room was another of Lee Jordan's assistants. This one was a young man who looked at them sympathetically. "Dreadful challenge," he said. "I was against this one. Too much alcohol can poison someone who isn't used to it." Harry looked at Malfoy in alarm, but the man sighed and held up two potion vials. "Never mind. I'm sure he'll be fine. One of these is a Sobering Potion, the other is a Hangover Remedy. It's up to you which one to use. Do not use them both. If you'll step to the fireplace, the Russian version of the Floo Network is ready to take you to your hotel for the evening. It works more like a Portkey, so as soon as you enter the flames you'll be sent to your destination. Do you have any questions?"
"Did your mother pick out your shirt?" Malfoy asked.
Harry clamped a hand over his partner's mouth. "Thank you. We'll just be... going now. Good night."
The man lifted a hand, although he frowned and looked down at his shirt. Harry stepped into the fireplace with his sagging partner and felt a strange wrenching sensation that seemed to mimic both Apparition and travel by Portkey. At the end of the journey, Harry fell out of the fireplace, staggered, and went down with Malfoy atop him.
"Oh good," Malfoy muttered. "Are we sleeping now?" He wrapped his arms around Harry and seemed to settle in as though Harry were a comfortable pillow.
"No, we can't sleep here. Malfoy, you have to get up."
"Draco," Malfoy said, moving his head on Harry's chest as though trying to get more comfortable. "I'm Draco."
"Draco," Harry corrected. "You have to get up."
"No," Malfoy said petulantly.
"You don't want to sleep on the floor when there is a perfectly good bed... I think... What is that delicious smell?"
"My shampoo," Malfoy said. Harry started to laugh until one of Malfoy's hands began to roam over Harry's side, moving over his ribcage and down to rest upon the curve of his hip.
"No, it smells more like food. Actual food! Please get up, Mal - Draco."
Malfoy's head lifted and he frowned. "I am hungry."
"Yes!" Harry said. "Me, too. Very hungry. Let's eat."
Malfoy levered himself to his feet and staggered toward a nearby table. He bumped into it and Harry cringed when he heard the shiver of glassware. He got to his feet and followed, hoping to rescue anything Malfoy might have knocked over.
"Vodka!" Malfoy crowed and hefted a bottle.
"Oh good heavens, no!" Harry said and snatched the bottle away from him, earning a petulant glare.
"I just wanted a little taste."
"You have had more than enough of a taste. Speaking of which, do you want to take a Sobering Potion now, or do you prefer to take Hangover Halter in the morning?"
Malfoy's pert nose wrinkled and he levered himself awkwardly into a padded chair. "No Sobering Potion. They taste revolting. Besides, I feel fine. Fine, fine, fine. Blini!" He snatched up a small pancake and smeared it with some blackish substance before rolling it up and stuffing half of it into his mouth. Harry had never seen the normally fastidious Malfoy eat with his hands. Not even finger food, by his recollection.
"Ohmygodsogoodcaviar," he mumbled around his mouthful. He grabbed another blini and Harry hurried around the table to sit down. The spread was quite impressive. Some sort of red soup, cabbage-wrapped meat rolls, marinated tomatoes, dark bread, potatoes dotted with dill, and several small dishes of caviar next to a stack of blini. Harry filled up his plate.
The food was divine, made all the better by watching Draco Malfoy eat like a small child while making noises of intense pleasure that did strange things to Harry's heartbeat. Harry slowly chewed a potato and watched Malfoy stack tomatoes and caviar atop a slice of brown bread. He hadn't once picked up a fork.
"Caviar tomato sandwich," Malfoy said triumphantly and bit into it before making a moaning sound that caused Harry's jaw to drop. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Malfoy leaned forward suddenly and thrust his treat beneath Harry's nose. "You must try this!"
Harry wrinkled his nose. He was not a fan of trying new and exotic foods - he wasn't brave enough to even taste the red soup - and caviar had never been high on his list of things to attempt.
"Taste it," Malfoy demanded and pushed the bread against Harry's lips. He steeled himself and bravely opened his mouth, assuming Malfoy would not stop until he succumbed. To his surprise, it was quite good.
"It's delicious," he mumbled as he chewed.
"Of course it is. I have brilliant taste," Malfoy said and pulled away to take another bite. He dropped his food onto a plate and sat back, swallowing and wiping his mouth with a brightly coloured napkin. "I'm really tired. I think I'll go to bed."
With that, Malfoy rose and headed for the bed, which caused Harry to blink in surprise. The bed. Singular. Why was there only one bed? Granted, it was huge, but... He scowled, wondering if this was Lee Jordan's idea of a joke, but he had no idea how to contact the prat. His thought processes were completely disrupted by Malfoy peeling off his clothes and tossing them haphazardly on the floor.
"Um... Draco?" Harry asked, abandoning his meal and getting to his feet awkwardly as Malfoy's trousers fell to the floor, revealing lean, muscular legs and an amazing arse beneath silky-looking white pants. Silky-looking white pants that dropped around his ankles a moment later and were kicked aside with an absent jerk as Malfoy stepped away from them and pulled back the blankets on the bed, giving Harry a more than adequate view of his amazing arse - and just a glimpse of his testicles. Harry's mouth went completely dry.
Harry turned and fumbled for one of the bottles of vodka on the table. By the rustling sound, he assumed Malfoy's nudity was safely concealed by the bedding, but the image seemed to be burned into Harry's retinas. He poured a generous quantity of the clear liquid and downed it, welcoming the burn along with the shudder that shook him at the unfamiliar taste.
Harry walked to the window and stared out at the lights of St Petersburg - he recognized some of the visible skyline from his time on the Hermitage roof - until Malfoy's breathing grew steady and deep.
Harry retrieved his pyjamas from his knapsack, put them on, and climbed into the bed being careful not to disturb Malfoy and even more careful not to touch him. Even so, it was a long time before Harry fell into a fitful sleep.
ooOOooOOoo
Draco wrinkled his nose. Something was tickling his face. He twitched again, but that only made the tickling worse and now his nose itched. His eyes snapped open to behold a dark blur that gave no indication of what brushed against his face. He pulled back with a frown.
He shut his eyes as the movement caused a cacophony of pain to start chiming in his head. He tried to lift his hand, but it was trapped by something. He thought he must be lying on the other one. Draco opened his eyes again and received a jolt even through the near-blinding headache. Potter's head rested next to his, face turned partially Draco's way, lips slightly parted, eyes closed. He was obviously asleep.
Draco blinked and became aware that his arm was held by Potter's and that not only was he sleeping next to Potter, he was completely entangled with the man.
Oh shit, he thought. To make things worse, Potter felt incredibly good. Lying next to him was far better than clinging to his back. Draco's arm was across Potter's chest and the man's hand was wrapped around Draco's wrist, as if holding him in place. Draco's groin was pressed firmly against Potter's hipbone and one of his legs was between Potter's and his ankle was trapped beneath Potter's calf. He wasn't sure he could disentangle himself without waking Potter.
Draco tried to relax. He obviously wasn't going anywhere. Despite his pounding headache, he kept his eyes open in order to study Potter. His lashes were ink-black and incredibly long, almost curling at the ends. His nose was straight and fine, without even a bump to mark where Draco had broken it so long ago. Draco pushed aside feelings of guilt about that, recalling the scar that crossed his own torso. A violent history lay between them, but Draco felt some hope that those days were finally past. They worked surprisingly well as a team.
Draco had been astonished when he'd received the notice that he had been chosen to accompany the Ministry hero on this ridiculous round-the-world contest. He had fully expected Weasley to remain Potter's partner, as he was on a daily basis. Draco had only worked with Potter on one case, and they had sniped at each other the entire time and nearly come to blows more than once.
Minister Edgemont had explained that he felt Draco should partner with Potter to show that they could work as a team. That had been a veiled threat, of course, and Edgemont had also mentioned the importance of the Ministry showing no malice toward those who may have fought on the "wrong side" during the war. Propaganda, Draco understood.
Potter's chest was bare and nearly hairless. Draco flexed his fingers the merest bit and slid his thumb over Potter's skin in a not-quite caress.
Potter had lovely lips. Draco had noticed before, especially with Potter's habit of frequently biting them. They were full without being pouty, shaped like Cupid's bow, and very soft, he remembered from the blueberry challenge. He debated tasting them now, leaning forward and teasing Potter awake with a kiss.
He nearly groaned aloud when the mere thought of it made his cock stir against Potter's hip. His eyes widened with momentary panic and he quickly thought about something other Potter's lips or Potter's eyes or Potter's skin... Not working, he decided. He had to get up before a certain part of his anatomy woke up completely.
Draco gingerly moved his arm, hoping to loosen Potter's grip and slide his wrist free, but Potter's eyes snapped open and focussed on Draco's with alert intensity. It was startling. They stared at each other for a moment until Potter seemed to recall their whereabouts.
"Draco," Potter mumbled. "Um." As Draco watched, a flush slowly stained Potter's cheeks and spread downward to his chest and possibly even farther. "Good morning?"
"For you, perhaps," Draco said dryly, fighting his own blush and hoping Potter happened not to notice Draco's half-hard cock digging into his hip. "Some of us have a blinding headache." He wondered at Potter's use of his first name and tried to think back to the previous evening. He hadn't done anything too foolish, he hoped.
"Oh! Right. The vodka! Let me get your Hangover Potion." Potter let go of Draco's wrist and rolled out of bed so quickly the mattress might have caught fire. Draco shut his eyes and tried not to feel disappointed at Potter's abandonment. He frowned as a vague memory of draping himself over Potter returned to him. Had he been tasting Potter's neck? No wonder the prat was so keen to escape.
The bed depressed as Potter sat next to him - on the other side this time - and said, "Here you go. I'm not sure... Would you like some water with it?"
Draco rolled over to face him and shook his head. "No, it tastes foul enough without water to exacerbate it."
Potter's lips twisted into an odd smile.
"What?" Draco asked as he tugged the cork from the vial.
"Nothing. I just enjoy the way you talk. Always so proper and with such fancy words."
"It's called a vocabulary, Potter. You should acquire one." Despite his words, Draco felt a rush of warmth that softened his tongue and made them sound more of a tease than a censure. Bloody hell, Potter was confusing him. He decided it must be the residual alcohol and downed the potion in a single gulp.
Draco counted to twenty in order to keep the potion down. Hangover remedies had more unpleasant effects than Sobriety Potions, but they didn't have an aftertaste that stayed with you for three days. He shut his eyes and waited while a roiling wave of heat flooded through him, beginning in his belly and travelling through his blood stream until it reached his fingertips and toes. He always imagined the potion left a trail of singed cells behind. His skin felt unpleasant and tingly, overly sensitive and burned clean.
"Fuck, I hate that," he said.
Potter nodded. "I know. I almost prefer Sobering Potions to feeling like I've swallowed live coals. Except for the aftertaste."
"I am certain some abstention party demanded the foulest ingredients be added in order to discourage drunkenness lest the cure be too simple."
Potter chuckled. "I suppose you're right. Do you want to shower?"
"With you?" Draco asked and then froze, because he hadn't meant to; the words had just slipped out. Potter turned scarlet, eyes wide and shocked, and Draco forced a laugh. "Honestly, Potter, your face." He chuckled again.
Potter stood up abruptly. "Tosser. I'll take one first and you can... find your clothes or whatnot." With that, he stalked to the bathroom and slammed the door.
Draco stared after him in surprise, wondering at Potter's reaction. Bloody hell, he was moody this morning.
ooOOooOOoo
Harry stood in the shower and let the pathetic water pressure sluice over him. The shower head emitted less of a "spray" and more of a "trickle", but it was enough to wet a cloth and allow him to scrub while his hair slowly got wet. Rinsing would take a while.
Damn Malfoy.
Harry had snapped awake at the feel of a warm body next to his and a hand on his chest. Waking to find Draco Malfoy staring at him had been a bit of a shock, and not an unpleasant one. It had been even more interesting to discover Malfoy wrapped around him, hand on his chest, legs entangled, and something pressed against his hip that caused Harry to abruptly remember that Malfoy wasn't wearing anything.
Harry dragged the cloth over his chest, knowing his erection wasn't going to diminish any time soon. It had driven him out of the bed to locate Malfoy's potion, cheeks burning while he wondered if he had imagined Malfoy's partially-hard cock. Had it merely been a case of morning wood, or was there something more? Malfoy had been watching him, if opening his eyes and meeting a grey stare had been more than a coincidence.
And then Malfoy's question regarding the shower. Fuck. It hadn't sounded like a joke, despite Malfoy's laugh afterward. Could he actually be interested? Or was he just messing with Harry's head? It wouldn't be the first time.
There was no help for it. Harry reached down and stroked himself. He couldn't walk around all day with an erection or Malfoy would have no doubt whatsoever that Harry wanted to shove him onto the bed and... something. Harry's mind stalled at that point, except for vague images of his mouth travelling over Malfoy's smooth skin and touching - oh fuck. Harry came, splashing the faux-marble wall of the shower. He gasped into the spray for a moment and then turned his attention to wiping up all traces of his activity.
With his mind a bit clearer, Harry shut off the water and stepped out of the tub with renewed determination. Something was growing between them and he needed to find out what it was. He just wasn't sure how to go about it.
~TBC~
Author's Note: I spent about an hour and a half researching the Hope Diamond only to have Draco dismiss it completely. *shakes head* I would also like a drunken Draco for my very own. He's rather adorable, I think. Poor Harry is starting to realize he's in over his head. :D Off to... the next place! Thank you for the reviews, I'm so glad you guys are enjoying this! I had so much fun writing it that it's good to know I'm not the only one amused by this story. LOVE YOU GUYS!