(A/N: This is yet ANOTHER random story idea that just popped into my head early in the morning. It's slash, Draco/Harry, and has to do with my weird fantasies....kind of Velvet Goldmine, if you've seen it. Rated PG for ONE mention of an orgasm {haha, my friends will freak} and a few scenes of kissing. Anyway, enjoy and review....)

"You're kidding, right?" Harry asked in disbelief, his green eyes wide. "You are....right? I mean, I can't wear.....that!!" He gestured feebly at the pile of clothes I held in my arms.

I smiled at his utter shock, I had known before what his reaction would be. I also knew that he would do anything for me, and in a matter of time 'The Boy Who Lived' would be prancing 'round the Great Hall in fishnet and eyeliner, looking for the entire world like a bleedin' fairy. Why?

Because I asked him to.

"Draco!" Harry frowned. "You can't make me do this!! It's cruel!! It's stereotypically gay!! It's.....it's...."

I grinned as he ran out of excuses.

"C'mon, Harry. Do you love me or not?"

Trying to contain the laughter bubbling up inside of me, I pouted and gazed at Harry from half-lidded eyes. "It'll only be for a few minutes. Please? You'll look incredibly sexy and afterwards," I winked then, and smiled, "We can do whatever you want."

Harry grinned and snatched the clothes away from me, turned, dropped them on the floor, and immediately began to strip. Pulling off his black t- shirt, I admired his tan, muscular back and arms from years of Quidditch and yard work for his uncle. Trying hard not to look down at his red and gold checkered boxers, which had appeared from under covering of blue denim, I watched in amusement as he pulled the black fishnet shirt over his head and...

"Draco...." he moaned. "I'm confused." He shuffled forward to face me, and I could hardly contain my laughter as I looked at his sorrowful face. "Help." he pleaded, and, being the loving boyfriend that I am, I was quick to assist.

He had the shirt completely backwards, plus his glasses were stuck in the tiny holes and the friction from pulling the shirt over his black hair had made it even messier, if that was possible. I plucked the spectacles from the fabric and assisted him in pulling the tight, black garment over his broad shoulders and down his tan stomach, being careful not to let my hands accidentally "slip" and lead to something that would deter us from our mission.

Harry looked down at himself and laughed. "What in the hell am I doing, Draco?" he asked me laughingly, before answering his own question:

"Damn it all, Draco, love makes you do weird things."

I nodded and agreed.

He turned and reached down into the pile of garments, and emerged with a tight black sleeveless t-shirt to go over the fishnet. Donning that, he reached down for the pants, but I interrupted him.

"No, no, no." I shook my finger at him, and then pointed at his boxers. "Those go off."

He seemed okay with it, but immediately started rummaging around in the pile of dark clothes for a pair of boxers that I had, most prudently, not provided. He looked for quite some time, and then turned, his green eyes wider than before.

"Draco..?" he asked, his question trailing off at the sight of my face. My Malfoy smirk had appeared, a sure sign of mischief.

"NONE?!" he gasped, catching my meaning almost immediately. "What? Draco," he pleaded, getting down on his knees and wrapping his arms round my legs, "Please, no. Draco, I'll do anything, really." He gazed up at me with puppy- dog eyes, and I almost gave in.

Almost.

Laughing, I looked down and patted his head, fixing this moment in my mind: my boyfriend, kneeling to me, with nothing on but fishnet and boxers. Dear sweet Merlin!

"Now, now Harry. It won't be that bad."

Detaching himself from me, he stood and pouted for a moment before the faintest glimmer of a smile touched his lips. Before turning yet again to disrobe himself and put on the pants, he kissed me, softly. I smiled and caressed his hair, really getting into the kiss, before turning him around and pointing, mock angrily, at the black leather pants.

I couldn't resist watching as he plucked off his boxers. His arse was like a work of art, I swear. Michelangelo (a Muggle artist Harry had introduced me to) couldn't have created anything more beautiful. He slid into the pair of trousers I had so carefully picked out for him, looking over one shoulder as he zipped the fly. He donned the black socks and leather boots and then stood, turned, and presented himself to me, his arms open wide.

"How do I look?"

I grinned and took his hand. "Delicious." I answered, leading him over to the countertop where I had placed my box of makeup that my fingers were just itching to put on him. Instructing him to take off his glasses, I sat him down and kneeled beside him. I carefully uncapped the eyeliner and drew a thin line under one eye, then the next. I repeated on the top, and then reapplied for a thick, smudgy look. He didn't blink the entire time, and I vaguely wondered if he had ever done this before, since he seemed so composed throughout.

Throwing the kohl back in the box, I grabbed some gel and spread it over my fingers and palms, then worked it through Harry's hair, making it spiky and altogether messier that it had looked before.

Remembering the glasses, I recited a little charm I had learned long ago to make his eyesight perfect, 20/20, without the use of his cute, round spectacles.

Standing back, I instructed Harry to stand up, and he mutely did so, smiling at me with the most evil glint in his emerald eyes.

"I'm acting like your slave, Draco!" he observed, smiling.

"That's exactly what I want." I told him.

Gazing at my handiwork, I almost orgasmed then and there. (Trust me; you don't need to touch Harry to get aroused by him. Trust me.) Black clothes, black eyeliner, spiky black hair...it was my wildest fantasies come true. I almost didn't want him to walk around the school; maybe other blokes would be attracted to him to.

He seemed to understand what I was thinking, and caught my eye as I was looking his body over. "Don't worry," he said quietly, "If anyone but you flirts with me, I'll kick their arse."

I smiled and leaned in for a deep kiss, running my hands over his fishnet- clad body as I did so.

That's my Harry.