|Things We Said
Author: Susan Bell PM
Harry lands himself detention with Draco Malfoy. Language and sexual content.Rated: Fiction M - English - Angst - Harry P. & Draco M. - Words: 1,799 - Reviews: 13 - Favs: 13 - Follows: 4 - Published: 11-05-03 - id: 1588318
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Things We Said
Harry blinked, holding his dirty rag in his hand.
"Shove off, Malfoy," he snapped. "I didn't do anything."
"Like hell you didn't," Draco retorted. He wiped soapsuds off his robes and shoved his hand under Harry's nose.
"That's your own damn fault." Harry picked up his bucket and rag. "I'm going to work on that corner." He looked pointedly across the room.
"Good riddance," Draco said coolly, raising his own rag and attacking the grimy wall with it.
Harry rolled his eyes.
Not only did he have a week's worth of detentions, but he had to serve every one of them with Draco Malfoy.
That in itself was irritating; what really grated Harry's nerves was his own growing attraction to Malfoy. He could hardly explain it to himself, let alone anyone else. He loved Hermione; he failed to understand why the others, Ron included, had allowed her to get away. And yet, here he was, gaping at Draco as the other boy viciously scrubbed at the wall.
There was that evil sexiness about him …
"What are you staring at, Potter?"
Harry snapped back to reality.
"You missed a spot," he said lamely.
Draco raised an eyebrow.
"Worry about your own wall, Potter."
Harry glanced down at his rag.
"Why do you keep staring?"
"I do not," Harry protested heatedly, his back to Draco.
"You've been doing it all night. What do you find so interesting?"
"Nothing is interesting as far as you're concerned, Malfoy." Harry swiped at a mouldy desk.
"Do you find me attractive?"
That one came out of left field.
Draco made note of it, storing it away for later use. He smirked.
"I imagine I'm a relief after all the time you spend with that Mudblood."
Harry whirled around, holding his rag in a threatening manner.
"Don't you ever talk about Hermione like that again," he snarled, bottle green eyes flashing.
"Dually noted," Draco replied calmly; his stomach gave an odd little twist at the fire blazing behind Harry's glasses.
Scowling, Harry turned to the desk.
"Answer my question, Potter."
"And which question was that?" Harry asked wearily. He did not dare face Malfoy; those stormy grey eyes would be watching him, considering. Harry's insides writhed at the thought.
"I asked if you found me attractive."
"Why would you even ask?"
Draco shrugged, even though he knew Harry could not see him.
"Well, sorry to disappoint you, Malfoy, but no. You might be appealing to some brainless twit like Pansy Parkinson, but I'm afraid I'm resistant to your … charms."
"Better Pansy Parkinson than Hermione Granger."
Harry did not have his rag on hand; he lifted the bucket instead.
"I told you not to talk about Hermione."
"No," Draco objected, "you told me not to call Granger a Mudblood. I can still say other things about her."
"No you can't," Harry glowered at the arrogant Slytherin. "You will shut the fuck up about Hermione and if you ever so much as breathe her name in her my presence I – ''
"I get the idea, Potter," Draco interrupted, smirking again.
"Just be quiet and clean the damn cauldrons."
Draco paused, eyeing Harry. The other boy seized his rag and turned to his cauldron; Draco took a strange sort of pleasure in watching Harry.
"I think you're lying."
"Dammit, Malfoy, what are you talking about?" Harry threw the rag into the cauldron.
"You said you don't find me attractive. I think you're lying."
"But that's impossible. Everyone finds me attractive, if not sexy as hell."
Don't even think about that one, Potter, just don't think about it. Harry closed his eyes, briefly halting his cauldron cleaning.
"I must be that exception," he said; he tried desperately to keep his voice from trembling. Change the subject.
Draco said nothing; he stood and crossed the room. Harry sat in his corner, his eyes closed. Draco swallowed hard. There was something alluring about the way Harry had his back against the wall, obviously trying to think of something else.
"I'm just going to have to change your opinion."
Harry's eyes flew open; Draco's face was mere inches from his own. The Slytherin's lips brushed Harry's; sparks danced across Harry's lips, burning with the desire to grab Draco's head and ravish him on the spot.
"I don't have time for this bullshit." Harry shoved Draco away and stood up.
Draco was watching him again.
Harry tensed. The silver blonde haired boy had said nothing about the night before … and though Harry was grateful, he was also a bit disappointed.
But Draco kept staring at him, observing with stormy grey intensity.
"How's Weasley?" Draco asked, half way through the detention. Harry's eyes narrowed at the abrupt question.
"Why d'you care?" he asked, polishing a rack of potion vials.
"Just making conversation. You're very quiet tonight," Draco replied casually, leaning against a counter. Harry stole a glance at Draco out of the corner of his eye.
"I'm sorry," Harry said sarcastically, glaring at the vials.
Draco folded his arms and continued to gaze at Harry. The dark haired boy pretended to be absorbed in the potion vials.
"You didn't answer me."
"Ron's fine," Harry shot at Draco; "Will you leave me alone now?"
"Do you really want to be left alone?" Draco countered, sliding along the counter to Harry.
Harry immersed himself with the stupid vial; he jumped when Draco's lips touched the back of his neck.
"Shit, Malfoy!" he exclaimed, nearly dropping the vial and turning to face Draco.
"Oh. I apologize, Potter." Before Harry knew it, Draco captured Harry's lips in a kiss that left both boys breathless. Harry felt the vial slip from his numb fingers, heard it shatter on the stone floor, but it seemed very far away, in another world.
"… don't …." Harry whispered, struggling weakly. Draco smirked, his elegant hands gently caressing Harry's slender form. Harry trembled at the touch.
" … stop …" Draco's tongue glided along Harry's bottom lip; an involuntary gasp escaped the raven-haired boy. Draco snatched the opportunity to feverishly explore the warm, dark cavern of Harry's mouth.
All the while, Harry stood, frozen against the counter. He never dared to imagine this moment, but now that it had come …
" … don't stop …"
Harry lifted his arms, pulling Draco closer to him, returning the kiss with fierce intensity.
Draco broke away suddenly, looking Harry up and down.
"See you tomorrow, Potter." He flattened his hair, and adjusted his school robes before striding from the room.
Harry pinched the bridge of his nose, squeezing his eyes shut. He did not know what, exactly, to think.
Harry stepped into the classroom and had just shut the door before Draco seized his arm, pulling Harry closer to him.
"Have I changed your mind yet, Potter?" he asked, running a hand through the unruly mass of Harry's inky locks.
"N-no?" Harry managed; Draco's stormy grey eyes burned into his own, gazing at him with a steady fervour.
"Liar," Draco accused before claiming Harry's lips. Harry was ready this time and kissed Draco with more passion than he knew he possessed. Draco was slightly surprised, but quickly hid it. Harry's mind raced; he thought fleetingly of Hermione and wondered what she would think if she knew …
Draco nipped lightly at Harry's lower lip; all coherent thought was thereafter banished from Harry's mind. He thought vaguely he might have bit Draco at some point, for he tasted blood … but was it his or Draco's? He didn't care. Draco slammed him against a wall, still kissing him hungrily. Harry hardly noticed. His clothing was rapidly disappearing, as well as Draco's; Harry did not mind. He ran his hands over Draco's flat, expansive chest, steadily trailing lower and lower, until …
Draco groaned into Harry's lips; the other boys smile devilishly, squeezing where Draco was most sensitive.
"You asked for it, Potter," Draco said, opening his eyes. He found Harry was already watching him, gazing with constant green fire.
"I believe I did, Malfoy," Harry countered. Both boys slid to the floor; Draco laid his body atop Harry's, kissing him once more. Harry's hands feverishly explored every inch of Draco's body, pinching, prodding, caressing.
And suddenly, Draco was inside him, moving in a rough rhythm. Harry squeezed his eyes shut; Draco kissed his closed lips, not slowing in the least. Somehow, each painful thrust brought a strange pleasure to Harry; his skin tingled and he could not help moaning aloud. Draco smirked; he never would have dared to even dream of a moment like this, consisting of just him and Harry.
Harry arched against him and Draco ceased thinking, ceased worrying over past regrets. Dreams, this was not. It was real, actually happening. How, still remained unclear to Draco.
But all too soon, it ended; Draco felt himself go, crying out Harry's name. Harry followed seconds later, shuddering. And no sooner had this happened than a fist wrapped firmly at the door.
"Your detention is over, boys. Please get yourselves to your dormitories immediately," Professor Snape called through the heavy door, too disgusted with both of them to actually open the door. Harry sat up, reality crashing around him. He blinked, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.
An awkward silence fell.
Draco gathered his scattered clothing, glancing at Harry; but the other boy seemed determined not to look at him.
A long while later, Harry met Draco's gaze.
"I-I have to go," he said, "I guess … I guess I'll see you around, Malfoy."
"Don't get your hopes up, Potter," Draco retorted, donning his usual arrogant calm. Inside, however, he was shaking; everything was in turmoil. How the hell had he allowed Harry to affect him like this?
Harry swallowed hard, running a hand through the unruly mass of ink that was his hair and quickly left the room. Draco knew perfectly well where Potter was headed; into the arms of that know-it-all Mudblood he was so head over heels for.
But, if Harry was so in love with Granger, why had he allowed tonight to happen? Why had he allowed the past three detentions to happen?
More importantly, why did it matter so fucking much?