Harry pushed Malfoy back against the door and nibbled at his throat. Fuck, he'd been hard for an hour. Every teasing movement Malfoy had made had increased the pressure on Harry's cock until he'd been afraid he would have to go into the bathroom and rub one out just to let off some steam. But the thought of touching himself when there was a chance of Malfoy touching him was just too tantalizing to risk.
"Potter," Malfoy said around a gasp and arched into him. "We shouldn't do this here."
Harry made a noncommittal sound and fumbled for his room key with one hand while his other pulled Malfoy closer by his arse. He frowned when he tried to remember what sort of key they had given him. He remembered the stack of brochures and the small hallway directional guide...
"Your hand. It opens by touch," Malfoy murmured.
"Mmmm, do you?" Harry asked, feeling wicked and reckless and consumed with need.
"Fuck, Potter, just open the door before one of the bloody crew or fucking Nigel spots us."
Harry felt along the door - albeit somewhat distracted by feeling along Malfoy at the same time - until he found the smooth plate. He splayed his hand over it and the door unlocked with a click, triggered by his magical signature, apparently. Handy, that.
"I should install these at home," he said absently and pushed Malfoy through the door before shoving him up against it on the other side. He attacked Malfoy's mouth. Finally, god, it had been torture at the club. The venue might have been gay tolerant, but such things only extended so far. Public frotting and sometimes even snogging could draw wrath and it was best not to tempt fate in a foreign country.
But this, fuck it was worth the wait. Malfoy tasted of Firewhisky. After only two glasses Harry's head was spinning, but he figured that was mostly due to Malfoy, anyway. He unbuttoned Malfoy's shirt, being careful even though their kissing was frenzied and Malfoy's hands were already down Harry's pants - oh god.
Before he reached the last button, Malfoy spun him around, using one hand on his hip and the other on his cock. Harry's trousers and pants had fallen to his knees and his t-shirt had been ricked up to expose his nipples. Harry watched, transfixed, as Malfoy dropped to his knees. Paper lanterns outside the window - real or fake, Harry neither knew nor cared - threw multicoloured patterns across Malfoy's pale hair. His eyes seemed huge and dark, locked with Harry's as his tongue painted a stripe over the head of his cock.
Malfoy grinned wickedly and then set about giving Harry the best blow job of his life. Harry hoped to fuck the doors were solid, because otherwise anyone walking by would know what they were doing by the sounds he made each time Malfoy's tongue did that and every time his cheeks hollowed like that...
"Stop, Malfoy, oh, stop. I don't want to come yet." Harry tugged lightly at Malfoy's hair, both wanting and not wanting him to continue.
"Yes, you do," Malfoy said, pausing only long enough to deliver the words before taking Harry into his throat. His fingers, wet with saliva, teased over Harry's arsehole. Harry cried out, quivered, and came.
Malfoy got to his feet and pressed his lips to Harry's. He still tasted faintly of Firewhisky, but also of Harry, and it was much more erotic than Harry would have expected. He tangled one hand roughly in Malfoy's blond hair and deepened the kiss. His other hand found the final button of Malfoy's shirt and slipped it through the loop before shoving the shirt back on his shoulders.
"Bed," Harry said, gasping. "I want you on the bed." To underscore his words, he gripped Malfoy's hips and walked him backward, stepping out of his own shoes and lower garments on the way. When Malfoy's legs hit the bed, Harry gave him a push and then climbed onto him as he fell, straddling his hips.
"How did I ever miss this?" Harry growled and attached his lips to Malfoy's for long minutes, unable to quite get enough even though he needed to get on with other things.
Malfoy finally dragged him away from his panting mouth with two fists in Harry's hair. "Miss... miss what?"
"Everything," Harry admitted. He kissed Malfoy's throat then, and his collarbones, and his chest, working his way downward. He couldn't really explain what he meant, but there suddenly seemed to be so much more to Draco Malfoy than he had ever guessed. The sense of lost time was keenly felt, all the more so when he wasn't sure how much they would have in the future.
Harry dropped to the floor and took off Malfoy's shoes before teasing his trousers off with caresses and random kisses, dropping them on Malfoy's thighs, knees, and calves.
"Potter," Malfoy said, but it sounded like a moan.
Harry stared to work Malfoy's pants off the same way. "You know," he said conversationally, "I think I'd like it if you called me Harry. At least while I'm sucking your cock, yeah?"
Malfoy levered himself up onto his elbows to gaze down at Harry with a bemused smile. "Do you plan to get on with that sometime this evening, then?"
Harry smirked and pulled the pants free of Malfoy's feet before settling between Malfoy's thighs. "I might," he said and wrapped one hand around Malfoy's cock to pull it into his mouth.
Malfoy dropped back onto the bed with a groan and one hand settled in Harry's hair. He felt a rush of delight at the sounds Malfoy made.
"I didn't quite hear that," Harry said between providing teasing licks to the underside of his cock.
"Harry. I said Harry, damn you."
"Oh, I like that. You deserve a reward." With that, Harry set about giving Malfoy the best blow job of his life. He hoped.
Regardless, he didn't think Malfoy would complain.
ooOOooOOoo
Draco arched his back and bit his lip after another cry tore from his lips, one that sounded suspiciously like Harry. In truth, saying the name was curiously erotic and seemed to only intensify the sensations quivering through his cock.
It also seemed to spur Potter on to higher levels of experimentation. He should have known the man would throw himself into the challenge of sucking cock with the same reckless determination with which he handled every situation.
Before he was quite ready, Draco felt his testicles tighten and then he was coming without managing even a single, strangled warning to Potter. To his credit, he barely broke his rhythm, faltering for only a moment before his throat worked and he swallowed everything Draco threw at him. Draco stared, realizing (not for the first time) that Harry Potter was truly amazing.
Potter looked up and him and wiped a hand across his mouth. "Okay?" he asked uncertainly.
Draco blinked at him for a moment and then realized the man had no clue. "Potter, you've given me wank material for the next six months. All I have to do is remember that and I'll be hard pressed not to come in my trousers." Draco snapped his jaw shut, thinking he might have said to much, handed Potter too much ammunition, but instead of calculation, Potter only gave him a shy smile and crawled up to lay beside him.
Draco turned to face him and he watched Potter watching him, with neither of them saying a word. Their hands, however, spoke volumes. One of Potter's hands was curled over Draco's hip, thumb caressing in gentle circles. The other rested beneath Draco's cheek, which would become uncomfortable before long, but at the moment the light touch felt extraordinarily intimate.
Draco's upper hand was still in Potter's hair, tangled around his fingers. His wrist rested on Potter's neck and Draco's thumb brushed over the shell of Potter's ear now and again, as if of its own volition. Draco's other hand lightly touched Potter's chest, not moving. He resisted caressing, barely.
"Draco," Potter said.
The name jolted him, although he tried not to show it. "Yes?"
Potter smiled. "Just trying it out." With that, Potter shifted even closer, pressed a soft kiss to Draco's lips, and closed his eyes. "Good night."
Draco smiled back, feeling a bit idiotic, but mostly wonderful. "Good night. Harry," he whispered.
He thought vaguely about pulling up the blankets, but it was pleasantly warm in the room and he was far too comfortable where he was to bother. After one last glance at Harry's dark eyelashes and sex-reddened lips, Draco closed his eyes and went to sleep.
ooOOooOOoo
A sound woke Harry and he reached across the bed to encounter nothing but air where he thought a warm body should be. His eyes snapped open and he raised his head to find the bed empty. Malfoy had gone.
His head thumped back on the pillow and he wondered why the knowledge was painful. Malfoy had his own room, after all. And they weren't exactly a couple. They had only had a few short, if brilliant, sexual encounters. It didn't have to mean anything.
It meant something to Harry, though.
A noise drew his attention and he realized a strip of light gleamed from beneath the bathroom door. Harry quickly left the bed and padded across the room. He pushed the door open and blinked against the brightness of the light.
Malfoy stood at the sink, mouth full of white foam and a Muggle toothbrush in his hand. He grinned at Harry, whose relief was so great he took several steps forward and wrapped himself around Malfoy. Naked Malfoy. Harry nuzzled the hair at the base of his skull and let his hands caress Malfoy's slender body.
Malfoy touched Harry's fingers with his free hand and then rinsed and spat into the sink. He straightened and then turned in Harry's embrace. To Harry's surprise, Malfoy returned his hug, pulling him close and pressing a kiss to Harry's cheek.
"Morning, Potter."
"Is it?" Harry asked. "It's still dark."
"Yes, Jordan's admonition was to awaken early, remember? I expect his Howler at any moment."
"Yeah. Should brace ourselves for that." Harry tasted Malfoy's throat once more and then the man moved out of his embrace. Their eyes met in the mirror when Malfoy paused at the door. Harry's heart did a curious flip when Malfoy smiled.
"Muggle toothpaste is no substitute for a Tooth Cleaning Charm," he said, "But it's better than nothing."
He went out and Harry reached quickly for the second plastic-wrapped toothbrush. Had the cryptic words been a promise of kissing? Harry brushed quickly but thoroughly, just in case.
Malfoy lay on the bed, still gloriously nude. It made Harry feel more comfortable with his own nakedness, especially when Malfoy's eyes glided over him slowly and a smile curved his lips. Harry grinned at him and dragged a hairbrush through his hair, much good that it would do.
He walked over and climbed on top of Malfoy to stare down at him. "Good morning," Harry purred and leaned down to kiss him. It was delightful, a lazy play of tongues and gentle nips. Harry pulled away too soon, wondering if they had time for more. Malfoy's eyes were soft and seemed to almost glow with good humour.
"Interesting toothpaste, that," he said.
"Yeah, um... cloves?"
"I think so. Give me that brush." Malfoy took it and dragged it through his hair, but Harry took it back.
"Let me," he said and moved off of Malfoy before tugging him upright. Harry knelt behind him and pulled the brush through Malfoy's blond locks, alternating with sliding his fingers through it because it felt so incredibly soft, like corn silk.
Malfoy sighed in what seemed a happy fashion and then half-turned to take the brush again. He held it before his face like a microphone.
"Here we are with the world famous defeater of all evil, Harry James Potter," Malfoy said in a terrible imitation of an Australian accent. Harry gaped at him. "Tell our viewers, Mr Potter, what has been your greatest experience during The Incredible Race?"
Harry bit his lip to stop from laughing and adopted a serious mien. "Well," he replied, leaning forward to speak into the bristles of the brush, "The food has been amazing. And the scenery has been um... incredible."
"I see," Malfoy said, but his eyes narrowed dangerously. "That has been your best experience, then?"
"No, I wouldn't say that," Harry said quickly. "I think the best bit has actually been getting to know my amazing partner, Draco Malfoy, very... intimately." He lowered his voice to a hushed tone and waggled his eyebrows.
Malfoy's smile nearly took Harry's breath away. "That's good," he said.
"Very good," Harry said and leaned in for a kiss.
They were interrupted by the familiar blaring sound of the wakeup message. Harry groaned and wondered if they had time for a hand job. Or something more. Malfoy's palm spanked down on Harry's arse cheek, making him jump.
"Up, Potter. We have a contest to win. Those dragon tamers will be put in their place once and for all."
"Do you really think we'll win?" Harry asked, lounging on the bed and watching with interest as Malfoy got up and began to dress. He grinned as Malfoy pulled on a clean pair of pants.
Malfoy waggled an index finger. "Don't look at me like that, Potter. We don't have time for pornographic antics. Of course we'll win."
Harry bounced off the bed and walked over to Malfoy, who held up a shirt with a critical tilt of his head. Harry slipped his arm around Malfoy's slender waist and then tucked a hand down inside his pants to fondle his cock. "No time at all for pornographic antics?" Harry asked and nuzzled the side of Malfoy's neck.
Malfoy lightly smacked his wrist with his fingertips. "None. But I'll pencil you in for a celebratory shag this evening."
Harry caught his breath. He had not dared to think very far beyond what they had already done. Hand jobs and even blow jobs were terrifying enough when performed with your former enemy, but shagging? That was taking it to another level.
Whatever it was.
"Okay," Harry murmured.
Malfoy turned his head to look at Harry for a moment and then tipped his head back for a kiss. Harry felt like he was drowning. The sensation was heady and brilliant and... altogether terrifying. He stroked Malfoy's cock, which swelled beneath his hand.
"Oh fuck," Malfoy said, breaking the kiss only after Harry's knees began to weaken. "Fuck, Harry."
Harry's hands tightened upon hearing his name. Damn it, but he shouldn't have given Malfoy that weapon. He stopped stroking Malfoy's cock and slid his hand slowly upward, over his taut abdomen. They had to stop. There was no time and Harry was ready to chuck the entire contest and stay in Kathmandu with Malfoy forever.
"We should... um."
Malfoy sighed and nodded. "We should. Breakfast. And clothing."
"Yes." Harry nodded and stepped away, feeling like a bandage being torn from a raw wound. He turned and staggered to his knapsack before sinking to his knees and staring blindly into it in the guise of searching for his garments. This is bad, he thought, this is very bad.
What the hell was he going to do when the competition was over?
ooOOooOOoo
Draco stared at the enormous, brightly coloured object that seemed to take up most of the sky. "What the hell is that?" he asked.
Potter smirked. "Hot air balloon."
"What does one do with it?"
Potter pointed. "See that small basket? You get inside and then untie the ropes. The balloon sails into the sky and takes you with it. Looks like fun!"
Draco did not think it looked fun at all. He thought it looked like suicide. And once Lee Jordan started babbling about how they were to ride the balloons up to a mountainside terrace, he thought it looked even less fun.
"Why not just fly the normal way?" he growled. "What is wrong with brooms? Are these Muggle contraptions really necessary?"
"We've already been on brooms. I'm sure they want to make things more entertaining for the viewers."
"How nice for the viewers." Draco knew his voice was petulant and possibly a bit whiny, but he didn't care. Their wands had not been returned, which meant a fall from the bloody contraption could mean certain death.
Potter laughed, damn him. "Come on, it will be fine. You'll see." And then the prat smiled at him with that bloody look in his eyes that Draco was beginning to recognize as fondness, making him realize that he could get used to fondness from Harry Potter far too easily and that was a dangerous, dangerous notion.
"Fuck you, Potter." The lack of venom in his voice was also slightly alarming.
Potter only laughed again and said, "The film editors are going to hate you, since they'll have to censor half of what you say."
"Only when I'm talking to you," Draco said and sniffed. Potter grinned and grabbed his wrist to lead him toward the balloon, which loomed larger and larger as they approached. He supposed Muggles were rather creative when it came to teaching themselves how to fly.
Draco listened with half an ear as Jordan described their challenge. Board the balloons - there were two of the monstrosities - and soar up the mountainside until they reached the docking plateau. Then they had a short climb up a rocky path until they located a specific hut wherein they would find Portkeys that would take them to a second location. Draco hoped it was nearby. He was heartily sick of Portkey travel.
"And go!" Jordan yelled. Potter took off like a shot and Draco followed. A Nepalese man smiled and beckoned them into the basket, which was more difficult to board than it seemed. The balloon bobbed and swayed with each movement and the opening was just high enough to risk testicular injury if one was not careful.
Potter grabbed Draco's arms and helped to lever him in.
"Ready!" Potter cried and gave the pilot a nod. The man shouted something and a ground crew released the ropes.
Draco waited for the sensation of rising and frowned. He glanced over the side to see if they were still bound to the earth, but to his surprise the ground was rapidly receding. Already the waving people on the ground seemed tiny. It was a marvel - almost as if the balloon negated the effects of gravity.
Potter was transfixed, hands gripping the edge of the basket as he stared into the distance. Draco followed his gaze and nearly gasped aloud. The sun was just beginning to rise, turning the stark white Himalaya range into a wash of orange-pink. The view was stunning.
Draco moved forward to stand with Potter.
"It's so beautiful," Potter said in a hushed tone. His hand moved to cover Draco's on the woven basket rim and Draco did not bother to pull away. It was a disturbingly romantic moment and if the bloody Watcherbee had not been hovering over their shoulder, Draco would probably have done something stupid like kiss Potter.
Instead he dragged his attention to the second balloon. The dragon tamers' balloon was flying a bit lower, but seemed to be keeping pace. Nigel lifted a hand and waved. Potter waved back. Draco resisted flipping Nigel a two-fingered salute - barely.
"You never told me why you don't like Nigel," Potter said.
"We don't have time for that list," Draco replied dryly.
Potter snorted and squeezed his hand. They said nothing more as they glided over the rooftops and terraced hillside, admiring the view as the sun rose. The flight took just over an hour and Draco was glad of the experience, even though he would never admit it. Muggle balloon-flight was magnificent.
"There's the path!" Potter said and pointed as the balloon dropped lower and lower. Draco glanced over to see the dragon tamers' balloon already touching down. Brendon leaped out, followed by Nigel, who tripped and sprawled on the ground. Draco felt an uncharitable sense of smug satisfaction. Nigel got up and hurried after Brendan, who started up the mountain path just as Potter hopped out of the balloon, dropping a greater distance than Draco thought was prudent, but simply rolling with the fall and bouncing to his feet. He bolted after the dragon tamers and Draco sighed heavily as he hopped out of the basket, hitting the ground with a jarring thud.
Potter looked back once and smiled before rounding a corner and becoming lost from Draco's sight in the undergrowth.
"Prat!" Draco muttered and raced after him.
ooOOooOOoo
"And it's a race up the mountainside to the small hut where our final contestants will find the Portkeys that will take them to Pokhara! Brendan is in the lead, but Harry Potter has passed up Nigel, who seems to be limping a bit after his leap from the hot air balloon. Draco is bringing up the rear, rapidly gaining on Nigel."
"Run, Harry! Run!" Ron shouted, leaping up and down.
Luna clapped beside him. "This is very exciting! Go, Nigel!"
Ron stopped hopping and glared at her.
"Well, we don't want it to be too easy on the boys, do we? They need some competition. Beside, I like Brendan and Nigel." Her tone was matter-of-fact.
"Harry's inside!" Neville cried.
"Great, now he has to wait for Malfoy," Ron grumbled.
"And Brendan has to wait for Nigel. Draco just passed him," Luna pointed out.
The image switched to a view inside the hut, which contained a single table with two wooden masks resting atop a brightly coloured woollen cloth. Harry reached for one and then paused just as Hermione yelled, "Wait, Harry!"
Brendan burst into the door and was about to grab for a mask when he halted and looked at Harry. Both men were panting with exertion.
"Triggered by touch, you think?" Brendan asked.
Harry nodded. "Makes sense, yeah?"
Malfoy was the next person through the door and he hurried to Harry's side. Ron watched closely to see if he could spot any untoward behaviour between them.
"On three?" Harry asked Malfoy, who growled, "Screw that." He reached out and linked his fingers through Harry's and then placed them on the nearest mask. They disappeared together.
Ron gaped at the screen while Ginny shrieked with laughter.
"Holding hands! I never thought I'd see it."
"They were not holding hands!" Ron bellowed and then he sat down and crossed his arms and pouted, his glare daring anyone to contradict him. Despite that, he admitted to himself that they sort of had been holding hands. He hadn't missed the way they had stood close together in the basket of the hot air balloon. Apparently the film editors hadn't missed it, either, considering the romantic music they had chosen to play during the balloon footage.
Malfoy, of all people, he thought with a mental sigh. Harry, Harry, Harry.
~TBC~
Author's Note: Back to the action! WOOHOO!