Author's Note: This was inspired by the extreme levels of touching, groping, hugging and kissing found in the wonderful world of global soccer aka football. Never stop, boys. Never stop.
The first time it happened, Harry was taken by surprise. It had been a difficult game against Argentina—the team was quick and ruthless. Harry had almost caught the Snitch at one point, only to have the Argentinean Seeker kick hard into his broom, just enough that Harry's fingers grazed the Snitch before it shot downward and disappeared.
The others were being flown ragged. Malfoy, the Keeper, was having the devil's time blocking the Quaffle. Twice he had been hit hard with a Bludger and Harry had noticed him favouring left his arm from time to time. He made a mental note to have the team medi-wizard look at it after the game and then smiled to himself. It had been difficult for the first few months, having Draco Malfoy as a teammate, but they had finally got over their deep-seated animosity, since both were too stubborn to give up their positions on the Caerphilly Quidditch Team for a childhood rivalry.
Malfoy had sulked for weeks when Harry was chosen for Seeker, but the former Slytherin turned out to be a formidable Keeper.
The Snitch revealed itself to Harry during a moment when the Seeker from Argentina was looking into the stands. Harry dove for it, streaking through the sky like an arrow and grabbing the golden ball before the other Seeker could quite catch up.
The stands erupted into deafening cheers and Harry found himself nearly knocked from his broom by an exuberant embrace from behind—arms wrapped around his torso and squeezed. He grinned in bemusement and hugged back, thinking it was Thompson, who was the most affectionate of the lot. He was always groping someone.
"Good game, Potter." The words murmured into his ear on a hot gust of breath and Harry stiffened with a gasp of shock. It wasn't Thompson—it was Malfoy.
By the time Harry recovered his mental facilities, Malfoy had gone and Harry was being enveloped by his other teammates.
The second time it happened, Harry was only slightly more prepared. They had won against the Toyohashi Tengu in record time, mainly because their Seeker was hit with a Bludger early on and kept having trouble staying on his broom, much less locating the Snitch. Harry was glad when he caught the Snitch so the poor boy could get some medical attention.
The celebration was no less ecstatic, however, and Harry was laughing with the others and holding the Snitch aloft when Thompson reached for Harry with the intent of wrapping him in a bone crushing hug. At least, that was what Harry thought he meant to do. He never found out because Malfoy shoved Thompson aside with a faked stumble.
"Sorry, Thommie, old boy," Malfoy said with a grin and then pounced on Harry, pulling him in to an embrace. "Nice catch, Potter."
Harry managed a halfhearted return hug, patting Malfoy on the back with his gloved hands while sharing a confused look with Thompson. Malfoys didn't do affection—it was a well-known fact. Harry tried not to be disappointed when Malfoy let him go and hugged Baker. Apparently Malfoy Laws were being rewritten and the new touching didn't mean anything.
The third time was in the air after Harry caught the Snitch against Peru, which was easier than expected because their Seeker had eyes for their Beater and spent most of the game watching Augusto Montoya instead of looking for the Snitch.
Malfoy approached Harry in the air, since the winning catch had been near the goal rings, and caught him in a hug that was beginning to be less shocking. Malfoy kissed him on both cheeks—which was shocking—and laughed into Harry's astonished face. He had flown away before Harry could move. He decided that Malfoy was either taking the piss or losing his sanity. He puzzled on it while waiting for the next game and spent much more time than usual watching the blond in what he hoped was a surreptitious fashion.
The fourth time was after a brutal game against Bulgaria. Victor Krum was as ruthless a flyer as ever, and he seemed to have it in for Harry in particular. Harry was bruised from head to toe from Krum bumping him, pushing him, and once, kicking him in the shin. Despite the penalties, Krum kept tormenting him, but it only made Harry more determined to catch the Snitch.
It had taken a manoeuvre that Harry thought might kill him, an altered version of the Wronski Feint, that sent Harry spinning to the ground in a dangerous spiral, only to flip his broom at the last moment, curve away from the grass rushing up to meet him, and snare the Snitch with his fingertips just before his knees banged into the ground and sent him spinning across the earth to land in a partially stunned heap.
Harry lay still, but managed to get his hand in the air to display the Snitch. Somehow, Malfoy was the first one at his side, dropping to his knees with a frantic sounding, "You alive, Potter?" Without waiting for an answer, Malfoy kissed him. On the mouth. Hard. "Amazing move, you stupid, brave idiot."
Malfoy was knocked aside by their screaming teammates and three of the others kissed him, also, which made him wonder if it were a growing trend or if they were all simply gay and just never admitted it. Harry was thinking about admitting it, because kissing Draco had been really nice (much nicer than kissing the others, even Walsburg, who had used tongue, imagine), and then there was the fact that Draco—Malfoy, he corrected—had seemed to be sulking after the incident, which might (possibly) be taken for jealousy. Harry thought about asking, but he was fond of his teeth and wanted to keep them.
There was a hiatus after Harry lost the Snitch in the game against the Patonga Proudsticks. Harry liked to think he had lost it to Balondemu's superior flying skills and not because Harry was distracted by his own teammate. Malfoy had slung an arm around his shoulders, pressed a kiss into the damp hair sticking to Harry's temple, and said, "Good effort, Potter. They should have made me Seeker." The words were teasing, though, and Malfoy had still kissed him… Harry watched Malfoy swagger away, red and green striped cloak thrown over his arm and his arse looking bloody fine in his Quidditch breeches.
I'm so gay, Harry thought.
Harry had to win against Norway. Not only because winning would send them on to the World Cup, but because he needed to win. Because Malfoy only kissed him on the mouth when they won. Therefore it was important to win. For the World Cup. Harry was focussed.
Harry was so focussed he caught the Snitch in the first twenty minutes of the game. The others were too busy congratulating him to complain about the lack of playing time, but Harry didn't notice. He was flat on his back with Malfoy between his legs, snogging as though he needed kisses to live.
"Malfoy… mate," Nickelby said uncertainly after a bit, although Harry heard his voice as if from a great distance. His ears seemed to be ringing. "Do you think that's appropriate?"
Malfoy stopped kissing and got to his feet. Harry blinked up at him in a daze. "Yeah, didn't you see Marsters do that to Emmons after the Puddlemere game?"
Malfoy strode off, not seeming to hear Nickelby's confused, "But they're married…"
Frankly, Harry had had enough of it. He needed to know what Malfoy was about. He caught up to him before Malfoy reached the building designated for their use. "Hey!" Harry called. "Malfoy!"
Surprisingly, Malfoy turned without the raised brow or sneer Harry expected. Instead he held up an arm. "Help me with these buckles, will you, Potter? The taste of leather is repugnant."
Harry stopped and blinked at the buckles. It was true; they all generally used their teeth to remove the vambraces. Harry lifted his hands and worked at the small buckles, glancing at Malfoy's face now and again. He could feel a blush heating his cheeks and wished he could stop thinking about the kiss, but fuck, it had been quite a kiss.
"Is there something you wanted, Potter?" Malfoy asked when the last buckle opened. Harry held the dangling bit of leather and Malfoy massaged his arm with a groan.
You, Harry choked back, barely, and then started on the next set of buckles when Malfoy left off squeezing his arm and held it out for him.
"Um. I need to um. Talk to you."
"Should I wait until you learn how to speak coherently, or shall we just wing it?"
"Shut up," Harry said with annoyance, fumbling with the leather strap that was too tight in the buckle and wouldn't come free.
"Make me," Malfoy said in a purring tone.
Harry jerked hard on the leather and Malfoy stumbled forward into him. Harry let go of the stubborn strap and wrapped his hands in Malfoy's hair to tug him into a bruising kiss. Malfoy did not pull away, but curled his hands around Harry's waist and dragged him closer. Harry's foot caught on a stone and sent him stumbling forward, breaking the kiss, but they only tripped backward a few steps until Malfoy's back slammed into the wall.
Better, thought Harry as he shoved up against him and kicked Malfoy's legs apart to tuck himself even closer and prevent him going anywhere. Not that Malfoy seemed to be interested in going anywhere, if his hands on Harry's arse were any indication.
"Fucking finally," Malfoy murmured between angry-seeming bites at Harry's lip.
"Taking you home now," Harry said thickly and Disapparated them both without bothering to retrieve his wand from lockup. They appeared in Harry's bedroom and immediately overbalanced without the stable wall to hold them up. Luckily, they fell straight onto the bed. "Mmm, better."
"How did you do that without a wand?" Malfoy asked.
"Where there's a will..." Harry mumbled. In truth, he didn't even know, he had just needed to get Malfoy to his bedroom by any means necessary.
"Well, it is much better," Malfoy agreed, squeezing Harry with his thighs. The Quidditch breeches they wore were padded to allow some comfort after flying for hours. Harry's groping hand could barely feel Malfoy's hardness beneath the fabric.
"These need to come off," Harry said.
"Yes, but our wands are back at the pitch," Malfoy growled.
"Muggle way, then," Harry muttered and sat back on his haunches to stare down at Malfoy, who looked incredible sprawled on Harry's bed with his Quidditch gloves still on and one vambrace missing.
Harry peeled off his own gloves, using his teeth, and grinned down at Malfoy. He tossed them aside and then dragged the red and green jumper out of Malfoy's breeches, exposing Malfoy's fine abdomen that Harry suddenly needed to taste.
He scooted back and pressed nibbling kisses on the firm muscles while his fingers worked at the buttons of Malfoy's breeches. It wasn't the first time Harry had cursed the bloody traditional buttons, and he doubted it would be his last. Finally, the fabric parted and Harry sat back to view his prize.
"No pants," Harry said in amazement. Malfoy's cock jutted proudly from the V of pale material.
He smirked. "Observant, Potter."
Harry wrapped a hand around it, killing the smirk. If he had known that was all it took, he would have done it years ago. The thought made him smile and he stroked the length of Malfoy's hard prick, measuring the differences and not finding Malfoy wanting at all.
"Was the kissing all part of some wicked seduction plot?" Harry asked.
"Obviously, Potter," Draco said, although his voice had gone a bit rough and broke slightly on Harry's name. "Since my lingering glances and subtle nudges were not getting through your blanket of obliviousness."
Harry decided it was time to shut him up, so he dropped off the edge of the bed to his knees—absently glad for the protection afforded by his kneepads—and dragged Malfoy closer by his boots. Before Malfoy could comment, Harry sucked his cock into his mouth, taking it deep enough to choke, until his nose was buried in the pale curls.
Malfoy made a strangled noise and yelped, "Fuck, Potter!"
Harry made a noise of assent, because he would definitely like to visit that option, but first things first. Malfoy's gloved hands twisted in Harry's hair, pulling it quite painfully. Harry dragged his teeth over Malfoy's cock in warning and the hands loosened slightly.
Harry had never sucked cock before, but he knew what he liked, so he used those techniques on Malfoy until he was a writhing, gasping mess, mindlessly chanting, "Potter, Potter, Potter..."
Harry decided he would have to work on that, because having Malfoy chanting his given name would be so much better...
Malfoy's hands tightened and he arched, giving Harry enough warning to pull away and fist Malfoy's wet cock as it pulsed, spurting all over his abdomen. He wasn't quite sure he was ready to swallow, plus watching Malfoy come was an amazing treat.
He watched Malfoy gasp for breath and try to compose himself—an impossibility, but Harry admired the effort—before he reached out and smeared the wetness with his fingertips, earning a groan.
"I should have seduced you a long time ago," Malfoy said.
"Yeah. Your plans are always shite, though. I'm surprised this one worked out for you."
Malfoy growled and launched himself off the bed, bowling Harry onto the floor. Malfoy stared down into his eyes and then dragged off Harry's glasses.
"Let's see if this next one works any better," Malfoy said and kissed him.
~I might sequel this, so I won't mark it as complete...