Disclaimer: I own nothing. I'll give them back when I'm done, promise.
Warnings: Slash, bad language, sexual content.
Authors note: This is for P-Himitsu who sent in a request for a Snape induced detention scenario about a million years ago. I did 95% of it and then completely forgot about it until recently! Sorry! And obviously this is completely AU, unless people can come back to life or your copy of DH had several large 'edits' similar to mine…
(or why Severus Snape should refrain from sticking his abnormally large nose in other people's business.)
Severus Snape was fed up.
It took a lot to make Severus Snape fed up, but here it was; after term had restarted he had endured weeks of watching his Godson continue to fight with The Chosen One. A bickering match between the two of them in his potions class earlier that day had pushed him to breaking point, and he had had enough.
Draco should have been smart enough to realise that fighting with the vanquisher of the Dark Lord would not improve his somewhat shaky standing in the world. But being smart sometimes slipped off of the bottom of Draco's agenda in favour of being a brat, and Snape knew that well.
So it had been in Draco's best interests that Snape had given both him and Potter detention for fighting in his potions class yet again. Draco had stared at him with an incredulous expression plastered all over his face, hardly believing that his own Godfather had just given him detention. Potter had just looked pissed off.
At the present moment, Snape was sat in his office in his high backed chair, sipping a goblet of red wine and looking intently into a small square mirror that was resting on the desk, propped against the wall. Anyone stumbling on this scene would immediately have wondered why Snape had suddenly taken such an ardent interest in his appearance, but in truth he still couldn't care less. The mirror did not show his reflection as expected; instead it was charmed to show the inside of the adjacent potions room, where Potter and Draco were currently serving detention.
He sighed, pouring out more wine into his goblet. An hour and a half and so far his plan wasn't working at all. He thought that being forced together for a period of time with without the influence or distraction of their friends meant they might actually talk to one another and start to get over this petty rivalry.
Sadly and predictably, the damn boys had bickered, argued and squabbled as they set about the task Snape had set them: brewing pepper up potion, a tricky and arduous task that would have them there all night if they didn't concentrate.
Looks like they'll need all night…Snape thought uncharitably as he saw Draco point to his chest, laughing (undoubtedly at Potter) as he spoke and Potter raised the knife in his hand in response, pointing it at Draco menacingly. Well. Should make for interesting viewing at least.
"Go on Potter, fill me in on the story," Draco grinned, eyeing Potter with satisfaction. Potter's jaw was clenched so tightly that is looked about ready to break and angry red blotches were rising in his neck, clearly visible over the neck of his school shirt.
"Pot-ter," Draco said in a sing-song voice, and he saw Potter's hands shake as he continued to chop up Valerian roots. "Talk to me, Potter."
"Malfoy, shut up," Harry said in a voice that suggested he was moments away from lunging at Draco across the table and throttling him.
Draco wasn't fazed. "Not a chance. This is far too juicy a story to just forget about."
"It's none of your business," Harry snapped.
"It's everybody's business," Draco laughed. "If you didn't want it to be you should have told the Weaselette not to announce it in the middle of the Great Hall."
"Oh come on," Draco scoffed. "She stood up and accused you of being gay in front of everyone. Even I heard it and I was sat about as far away from you as anyone could get."
"You didn't hear it," Harry said instantly. "You're lying."
"Why don't you just admit it, you don't want me anymore because you're gay!" Draco mimicked in a high pitched voice. Harry went pale. "Yeah, I heard it. I laughed so hard I split my coffee. See?" he said, helpfully pointing at a small brown stain on the chest of his shirt.
"Just shut up, Malfoy, or I am going to stab you," Harry threatened, pointing the knife at Draco in warning.
"Like you'd dare," Draco drawled back and felt a stab of triumph as Harry put the knife down. Draco shot him a smug look but at the same time vaguely wondered if Potter had put it down because he wouldn't dare, or because he was actually truly on the verge of causing Draco serious harm.
"Can we just get this done so we can go?" Harry asked, trying to keep his voice level.
"As you wish," Draco replied with an arched eyebrow and a sigh as if Potter had been the one causing the disruption, continuing to delicately cut up tulip petals.
He swore he could hear Potter growling at him, which didn't scare him in the slightest, but did however add weight to the rumour going round that Potter was an unregistered Animagus that took the form of a lion. Did lions growl? Draco wasn't sure. Potter definitely did though.
"Why so angry, Potter?" Draco asked innocently.
"I'm in here with you,on a Friday evening, and you're being an arse." Harry fumed.
"You realise this is the first time we've ever spent any real time in each others company?" Draco asked, ignoring the insult.
"Yeah, I had noticed," Harry said glumly.
Draco didn't reply this time, choosing to carefully watch Potter rather than continue to wind him up. After all, they had probably another three hours of detention to complete judging by how slowly their work was going. Draco had spent a worrying amount of his life indulging in Potter-watching and even though he knew it was one of his worse habits, he wasn't about to stop now that he had an up close, personal and private showing.
"Pass the newt eyes."
Draco looked up sharply. "What's the magic word, Potter?"
"Now." Potter snapped.
"Oh for fucks sake," Draco grumbled, shoving the jar across the bench.
"Swearing? Isn't that a bit common for you?" Harry mocked and Draco picked up a stray shrivelfig, throwing it at Harry who ducked easily.
"Fuck off, Potter!"
"You fuck off!"
"Shut up, gayboy-"
There was the screech of chair legs against stone as Harry pushed his chair back violently, lunging off of the stool and around the table, grabbing Draco's shirt in his hands, his fist coming back ready to punch Draco straight in the face.
Before Potter could finish his sentence or smash his fist into Draco's face, they were plunged into darkness as every torch in the room simultaneously went out.
"What the hell?" Harry exclaimed, still frozen in place. Draco took the opportunity to wrestle his shirt out of Potter's grip, feeling a little unnerved himself at being thrown into blackness. The only light came from the small blood red flames under the cauldron they were using to brew with and that barely cast out any light at all; just enough to see a circle of the table they were working on, around a couple of feet in diameter.
"What did you do, Potter?" Draco asked, his tone accusatory.
"Nothing!" Harry hissed back.
"That's what you get for trying to punch me," Draco said petulantly, realising he still had Potter's wrists in his grip and hurriedly letting them go.
"It'd be far easier for me to kill you in the dark," Harry said darkly and Draco felt a thrill of foreboding run through him. Potter wouldn't seriously hurt him, would he? No. Course not. He was the Chosen One, far too noble for things like murdering Draco in unlit classrooms.
"I'd be more worried about what else you might do to me in the dark," he said cuttingly.
"Shut up," Harry sighed without heat, stepping away from Draco.
"Where are you going?" Draco demanded.
"To check the door," Harry replied. Draco briefly saw Harry pass the table in the dim red light, and then came the sounds of a lock rattling. "Still locked," Harry said, feeling his way back across the room.
"Obviously," Draco scoffed, rolling his eyes even though Potter couldn't see in the dark. "It's Snape, he's not going to let us off for a minor technicality such as not being able to see."
To his surprise, Potter laughed. He laughed, actually chuckled at something Draco had said, like he had found Draco amusing. And not in the old 'amused at his pain or discomfort or embarrassment' way, either. Draco surreptitiously pinched himself under the desk just to check he hadn't fallen asleep. To his surprise he hadn't.
He shook his head in wonder and then went to continue with the potion but stopped abruptly. Where had had positioned himself at the far end of the table, away from Potter, he was also far away from the cauldron and the flames. Because of this previously tactical positioning, he found he couldn't see a thing in front of him.
"I can't see what I'm doing," he muttered, groping on the table hesitantly to try and find his knife.
"You could-" Potter began and then stopped abruptly. Draco peered through the darkness to where he could vaguely see Potter in the dim red light and wondered why he'd stopped.
Potter could see what he was doing because he was close enough to the cauldron for the flames to light up where he was working. He had probably been about to suggest Draco moved closer so he could also see, but the problem with that suggestion would be that Draco would have to move closer to not only the cauldron, but to him too.
Draco sighed. He could stay where he was in the dark and let Potter do everything which would take forever, or he could move and sit next to him and get it done more quickly so he could actually leave before his next birthday. With a bad grace, Draco slid off his stood and felt his way around the table, slipping onto the stool next to Potter.
That was better- he could now sort of see what he was doing but everything looked red which wasn't good for seeing what ingredients he was working with. Although the red light was faintly lighting Potter's face and making him look like he was permanently blushing which was amusing.
"Here," Potter said quickly, sliding the rest of the Valerian roots across the bench. Admittedly, he didn't have to push them far as they were sat rather close together. He passed Draco a knife and quickly looked back down to the newt eyes he was sorting through.
Draco should have stayed where he had originally been sat in the dark, he thought irritably. He couldn't move any further away if he didn't want to accidentally cut his fingers off, but he was so close to Potter that their elbows kept brushing as they worked. Although he had to admit that in truth it wasn't bothering him all that much. Obviously the whole world expected him to be disgusted at having to touch Potter, but in reality he didn't really mind. It was quite nice being that close to someone again even if it were just working side by side. They worked together in silence, both concentrating on the task and having to be careful due to the situation with the lack of light.
Potions work was something Draco enjoyed immensely; he was good at it for starters. He also liked the nature of the classes; once the instructions were up they were left just to get on with things and make their own progress. The methodical nature suited him down to the ground as well and he was so involved in his process of fold, cut, cut, turn, cut, move, repeat that he forgot to keep an eye on Potter.
His lapse in concentration was only bought to his attention when he felt Potter shift next to him and suddenly Potters leg was pressing against his, knee to thigh. His hand faltered on his knife and his whole body tensed but Potter didn't move away.
The leg that was pressed against his own felt so warm and solid and manly,Draco couldn't help noticing. So different from any of the girls that had tried to get his attention by nefarious under-table manoeuvres.
"What are you doing?" he asked him, unable to keep his tone from sounding accusatory.
"Sorry," Harry said quickly, jerking his leg away.
"Don't," Draco warned. "I may not hate you anymore but I don't want you testing out your new found homosexuality by rubbing up against me in a darkened room."
"You don't hate me anymore?" Harry asked and Draco sighed, recommencing with his chopping.
"Trust you to pick up on the least important part of that sentence, Potter."
There was no reply and Draco mentally congratulated himself on getting one over on Potter without receiving any insults back. He allowed himself a smug grin, knowing Potter wouldn't see in the dim light. It was true anyway. He didn't hate Potter anymore; their current bickering was really just them going through the motions and keeping face.
His mind wandered and his thoughts inevitably circled back around to the topic he and Potter had been arguing about earlier; the revelation that Potter liked boys. It of course could have been rumour, or grave miscommunication, or a complete fabrication, but Potters reaction to Draco's teasing, along with the leg-touching incident made him think that it just might be true.
What would have happened if he hadn't said anything? Would Potter have sat there and not done anything more? Was it really just an accidental brushing of legs or had Potter consciously done it in order to start something that would lead elsewhere?
He didn't think that was very logical of Potter if that had been his intention- as far as Potter probably knew Draco was straight. Which wasn't strictly true, Draco mused. He certainly wouldn't call himself gay, like Potter clearly was. He wouldn't say he wasn't fussy either because he was very particular about which people were allowed close to him and that went double when he was naked. He was just…indifferent to sex. Well, in the sense that the sex of his partner didn't matter, not that he didn't care about sex itself. Because he really, really did care about sex, and not having had any in a while was a definite sore spot for him.
He imagined Potter's hand slipping under the table to rest on his thigh, picturing the blush that would spread over Potters face as he did it, possibly biting his lip nervously as he waited for Draco's reaction, gently squeezing when Draco didn't throw him off…
Draco blinked and sat up straight, feelings startled and a little disconcerted. Had he really just been imagining Potter groping him under the table?
Urgh. Groped by Potter…Draco's autopilot automatically said. If he had been alone he would have added a theatrical shudder.
However, after his initial socially acceptable reaction had played out inside his head, his mind started to wander as it normally did when thinking about Potter. Would it really have been so bad? Potter's leg really had felt nice up against his, a small voice in the back of Draco's brain supplied. Draco made a mental note to slap himself later.
He couldn't concentrate on the potion now; he was seized with the urge to see what Potter would have done if Draco hadn't told him to get off. Not because he wanted to do anything with Potter of course, but because he wanted the inside story on the Chosen Ones sexual preferences, which at the very least would provide moths of taunting fodder and possibly even blackmail material.
Yeah. Blackmail material. Having Potter try to touch him and maybe even try to kiss him would be perfectly good blackmail material…wonderful, hot kisses and firm touches that he could use the memory of for wanking. No, not wanking- blackmailing.
Draco shook his head quickly, feeling slightly off balance and a little worried about how his thoughts had got from contemplating evil to contemplating sex in such a short amount of time.
It had to be the fumes from the potion right? He desperately tried to recall the potential side-affects from making Pepper-Up potion but couldn't as far as he knew there weren't any. He shifted uncomfortably on his stool and felt his knee knock against Potters which had been closer to his than anticipated. Next to him, Potter tensed and before he knew what he was doing, Draco experimentally brushed his leg against Potter's once more. He slowly lifted his knee up and down a fraction, pressing hard enough for the motion to be read as deliberate.
"Look, if you don't want me to jump on you, stop it and move away. It's hard enough not grabbing you as it is." Harry suddenly blurted out in a strained voice, making Draco freeze in shock.
Draco was stunned. The whole fantasy about testing Potter's reactions had really been nothing but fantasy until that point; but now it had slammed into reality. If Potter fancied himin particular, and wasn't just looking for any random guy- well that changed everything.
"Nothing," Harry said quickly, sounding mortified and snatching his leg away from Draco's underneath the table.
"No, not nothing!" Draco said, "You want to jump on me! You fancy me!"
"No I don't!" Harry's terrified sounding protest was as good as a confession.
"You so do!" Draco said triumphantly.
"Malfoy, shut up, please," Harry pleaded.
"Not on your life," Draco cackled. "Oh this is just so much fun I might pass out."
"Please," Harry repeated. "Just forget I said anything for now, help me finish this and then we can go and you can go tell everyone and make fun of me or whatever it is you want to do. Just not now, please."
Draco paused, temporarily thrown. "You don't care if I tell everyone that you fancy me?"
"Well, thanks to Ginny everyone kind of knows I'm gay, and the whole fancying you part…Well, I'm only human," Harry said and Draco thought he could detect a hint of bitterness in his voice.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
In the dim light, Draco could just make out the frown on Harry's face. "Don't act thick, Malfoy, it doesn't suit you."
"I'm not-" he protested.
"You know full well that just about all the girls fifth year and up have a crush on you," Harry said flatly.
"All of the girls and you," Draco amended, now back to feeling uncertain and a little shaky. He couldn't quite believe it; Potter actually fancied him, he had just admitted it and he said he didn't care if everyone knew.
Well that blew his blackmail plan straight to hell. He couldn't blackmail Potter about a thing between them if he didn't care who knew-
Hang on, did he even want a thing between him and Potter?
His brain immediately reminded him of his traitorous reaction to the leg touching incident earlier and gave him the answer as a resounding yes. Potter wasn't bad looking, really. He was skinny and athletic which suited Draco's taste just fine...and those damn eyes. Draco had conceded to Pansy on more than one occasion that yes, Potter had nice eyes but that didn't mean he wasn't a stupid Gryffindor tosspot.
Shaking his head to clear his thoughts he slowly breathed in and out, wanting but not knowing how to break the uncomfortable silence that had descended between the two of them. He figured that he might as well get on with the work until one of them figured out what the hell to say. Draco could probably work out something along the lines of 'well now you mention it Potter, I quite like the notion of doing rude things with you,' but he'd be damned if he was going to say it first.
The atmosphere had changed distinctly, Draco was able to note. Instead of uncomfortable with an undercurrent of annoyance and petulant anger, now the discomfort was laced with a different kind of tension: a slightly sexual tone that came with knowing the person right next to you had the hots for you.
He reached over past Potter to grab the bronze knife that he would need for slicing Salamander tails, and shivered slightly as he and Potter nearly touched; it was like an electric current had fired up and was passing between the two of them, sparked by the revelation that Harry liked him. Unable to see, his fingers bumped the knife which was closer than he expected, and he swore as it fell off the edge of the desk with a clatter.
"I'll get it," Potter said and made to slide off his stool.
"No, it's fine," Draco replied, dropping to his hands and knees and groping blindly in the dark, trying to recover the blade. "Fucking dark…" he muttered.
He heard Potters stool move across the stone floor and Potter was dropping to his knees to help search.
"I can do it," Draco said a little irritably.
"I'm just helping," Harry replied, sounding annoyed. "This is ridiculous, I can't see anything-"
"I'll bet you anything it's Snape's way of making us work together," Draco said. "Ignoring the fact it's highly dangerous to prepare potions in the dark."
Harry gave a short laugh. "He's probably hoping I get injured or maimed in some way."
"Yeah, sounds about right," Draco said, twisting back around to feel for the knife. His hand brushed Potters and he drew back hastily, feeling a blush rising in his neck.
"Sorry," Potter breathed and Draco was suddenly aware of just how close he was; he couldn't see him but he knew that their faces couldn't be more than a foot apart. He was frozen in place and inwardly jumped as he felt Potter's fingers hesitantly touch his again, feeling vulnerable that he couldn't see what was going on.
The fingers moved over hand and up to his wrist- and Draco could feel them trembling. He was pretty sure he was too, but he was powerless to stop himself or the slow progress of Potter's fingers, moving slowly higher and higher. He exhaled shakily and Potter's fingers halted, but when Draco didn't say anything they continued to move up his arm, over his elbow with growing confidence and strength, presumably emboldened by the lack of negative reaction on Draco's part.
Breathing was fast becoming an issue; he was well aware he was somewhat breathless and each inhale was shallow, clearly audible over the crackle of the flames and the bubbling of the potion they'd all but forgotten about. The only reason Draco wasn't embarrassed was because Harry was clearly as affected by their proximity; his breathing as uneven as Draco's.
The hand slid up his arm and to his shoulder, over his collar and he bit his lip as he felt the slightly rough pads of Harry's fingertips brush the skin of his neck. Not being able to see was turning this relatively innocent act into something shockingly arousing, and Draco found himself nearly whimpering at the touch.
Harry had moved closer; so close that Draco could feel each breath whispering across his lips. He could taste Harry and knew he was close enough to kiss him if he wanted. God he wanted, he wanted so badly he wasn't sure why he'd never contemplated this before, but he was no where near as brave as Potter so if there were to be kissing, Potter would have to be the one to initiate it.
Surely there would be kissing, right? Draco thought a little desperately. His heart was hammering against his ribs, god he wished the fucking lights were on so he could see and stop feeling so damn vulnerable, and those sinful fingertips slid up his neck, behind his ear and then Potters hand slid into his hair, onto the back of his head-
Draco's breath hitched in his throat and Potter have a shaky exhale in return and then his nose bumped against Draco's. Draco tilted his head just slightly and then he felt the gentle press of trembling lips against his.
Head spinning, Draco reached out with a shaking hand, blindly groping for Potter in the dark. He found his shoulder and held on tightly as Potter's lips moved against his, parting slightly and catching Draco's between them.
I am kissing Harry Potter…Draco thought dazedly. He was in detention, kneeling on the floor in the dark in Snape's classroom no less, and kissing Harry Potter. Life was surreal sometimes.
The hand on the back of his head pressed harder and Potter made a noise low in his throat, rising up a little on his knees in an effort to get closer to Draco. Draco thought that seemed like an excellent idea and mirrored the action, shuffling forwards on his knees and rising up so he and Potter ended up pressed together, hip to hip and chest to chest.
A soft moan slipped out and neither knew which one had made it, but neither really cared. Draco parted his lips slightly and was rewarded as they tentatively touched tongues, and holy fuck that was good,and so right in a way that somehow made sense.
Harry's spare hand came up to fumble blindly across Draco's chest, and then his fingers curled around the knot of Draco's tie, tugging at it as the kiss deepened, Draco's tongue slipping into Harry's mouth and causing his breath to hitch in his chest.
Whatever restraint they had been using up until that point was rapidly disappearing; the gentle and hesitant kisses were turning into something more passionate. Hands started to wander and Draco was pressing himself closer against Harry as Harry struggled to pull his tie loose.
The heated kissing was definitely registering in the rest of Draco's body and he was well aware that he was becoming seriously aroused. He flushed and contemplated putting a discreet distance between their crotches but Harry had other ideas; the hand on Draco's tie gave up with fumbling with the knot and instead moved round to firmly cup Draco's arse, pushing them together harder. Draco gasped as he felt the press of Harry's erection into his hip and all thoughts of being discreet fled.
He pushed his hips sharply into Harry's and felt Harry tip backwards, wobbling on his knees. One of Harry's hands shot out grasping thin air and he let out a strangled cry as he tipped himself forwards sharply and overbalanced, pushing Draco back and sending him sprawling onto his back with a thud, Potter on top of him.
"Sorry," Potter gasped, trying to climb off of Draco, who would have bet the Manor that Potter was currently blushing violently at his clumsiness.
"It's all good," Draco replied breathlessly and reached out in the dark to grab whatever part of Harry he could. He seized his shirt and pulled him down on top of him, nearly head-butting him as he tried to find his lips with his own once more.
Harry let out a startled noise but he quickly regrouped, catching Draco's mouth with his once more. Draco was trying to find the buttons of Harry's school shirt so he could open it and run his hands over his skin, but he was struggling to even get the first button open, partly because of the lack of light and partly because his brain had turned to mush under Potter's snogging assault.
God it had been too long. And Potter was really quite good at this, even by Draco's standards. And if he were to think about it, Potter was more than adequate in meeting Draco's rather picky standards; he was the Saviour of the Wizarding World for Merlins sake.
"Fuck, you do it, I can't see," Harry said, sounding frustrated and Draco realised belatedly that Harry was also trying to unbutton his shirt.
Draco immediately obliged, not even putting up any token resistance as he did exactly as Harry asked. He sensed now was not the time for arguments, not when Potter was divesting himself of his own shirt and tie and clearly had good intentions concerning the two of them minus their clothing.
He managed to open his shirt but didn't get it off his arms as Harry laid back down on top of him after ripping his own shirt off and throwing it aside, pressing hot open mouthed kisses along the front of his neck and making Draco moan like a three-sickle whore.
"Wanted this, forever-" Harry panted against Draco's skin. "God, Malfoy."
"Come on then," Draco breathed, running his hands up Potter's bare back and rolling his hips up, pressing his erection into Potter's. How had he gone so long without knowing he wanted to do this? Because,fuck, he wanted it; the feel of all that hot naked flesh against his was mind blowing.
Potter growled low in his chest and rolled them over, pulling Draco on top of him. One hand was back on the back of Draco's neck and the other was vice-like on his waist, encouraging Draco to rut against him, pushing him down hard and revelling in the resulting friction.
It was glorious and Draco knew he could easily come from this, and Potter probably would as well judging by the glorious grunts and moans he was making, but it wasn't enough. This might just be a crazy one off and Draco was not going to forfeit his chance to make the most of it.
He slipped sideways off of Potter's hips, his shoulder hitting the leg of a desk with a thud. Potter made a noise of protest but Draco quickly reached out and groped for Potter's belt. He found it quicker than he expected; his sense of touch and spatial awareness heightened by not having his sense of sight. His hearing seemed sharper too and he was glad for it; the gasp Potter let out when Draco pulled his belt open was just delicious.
"Oh my god-" Harry breathed as Draco managed to get the Gryffindor's trousers open, freeing his erection which Draco immediately ran his hand over, eager to learn what Potter's body was like by touch, if he couldn't have sight.
"Nope, just Draco," Draco panted as he slipped his fingers under the waistband of Potters boxers. He bet they were red. Bright Gryffindor red.
"Twat," Harry managed and then cried out as Draco unceremoniously shoved the rest of his hand into his boxers, his long fingers curling around Harry's cock, hard and heavy in his hand. His hands tightened their grip on Draco's shoulders and his back arched as Draco began stroking him with quick, harsh strokes.
"Mal-foy!" Harry cried and Draco grinned in the dark.
"You might want to call me Draco," he panted. "Seeing as I'm touching your cock and all-"
"Shut up," Harry gasped and awkwardly reached out in the dark, knocking Draco's arm out of the way as he reached for Draco's belt.
"What're you-" Draco began, more disappointed than could be considered rational by the fact that he no longer held Potter's cock in his hand.
"Sharing," Harry replied, finally finding Draco's belt buckle and wrenching it open.
"How Gryffindor of you," Draco said and Potter tried to tug his trousers down with limited success.
"Shut up," Harry repeated. "Take them off."
"What, why?" Draco asked, his voice uncertain.
"Trust me," Harry replied evenly.
Draco rolled his eyes but didn't comment on just how ridiculous that statement was, mainly because Potter's voice was raw with desire and Draco was so hard and turned on that he just wanted to do anything up to and including being fucked silly by Potter, so removing his trousers was probably a step in the right direction anyway.
Kicking off his shoes, he felt Potter lean in and press a kiss to the side of his face, before whispering. "All of it. Take all of it off-"
Being fucked silly by Potter suddenly seemed like a real possibility and Draco hastened to push down his own boxers as well as his trousers. He reached for his socks but Potter apparently wasn't in the mood for waiting; he grabbed Draco and pulled him back on-top of him, knees either side of his thighs.
Draco went to lift his body up but Potter held him down firmly. He felt Potter sit up marginally and gasped as knuckles brushed the back of Draco's cock.
"Give me your hand," Potter rasped and Draco reached out. "Lean forwards…"
Draco did as requested and as he felt a hot, hard length brush against his hand he quickly understood what Potter was trying to do.
"This would be easier if we could see," Draco said and Potter laughed breathlessly.
"Yeah, that'd be better- oh fuck…"
Harry groaned as Draco took both of their cocks in hand, canting his hips forwards so he could press them together, wrapping one of his hands around them both and slowly running it up and down.
"Oh, fuck yes," Harry breathed and thrust his hips up.
"Let me," Draco gasped and thrust his hips forwards, pushing his cock against Harrys and thrusting both through his grip on his downwards stoke.
"Oh God, keep doing that!"
Draco didn't need any encouragement; he started thrusting hard, moving his hand in counterpoint to his movement, the sensations too good to describe. Potter was so hot against him and the sweat on his palm and the precome dripping from the head of his cock were making everything deliciously wet and slippery. It was the sounds and the smell that were making everything so unstoppably arousing though; their mingles gasps and curses and moans and the heady smell of sex on the air.
"Potter-" Draco bit out, and just when he thought it couldn't get any better, it did.
The lights all simultaneously flared back into life and Draco was immediately treated to the sight of a half naked Harry Potter writhing on the ground underneath him. The visual of both their cocks straining together in his hand was something he knew he'd never ever forget and he cried out, pushing harder, his hand moving faster.
"Oh my fuck," Harry managed, his eyes wide. His glasses had been lost somewhere along the way and Draco couldn't decide whether to look at his face or his crotch. Harry was staring at Draco's busy hand unashamedly and Draco felt him tense under him.
"Yeah," Draco panted in encouragement. "Oh god yeah, come on."
Harry's back arched and one of his hands moved quickly down to hold onto Draco's, the other grabbing Draco's knee. His eyes shut and his head tipped back and Draco watched in rapt fascination as he came with a hoarse cry, his throbbing cock pulsing over both of their hands. He felt back, shaking as Draco felt his own orgasm race through him, bowing his spine with breathtaking force and speed, his release spurting through his fingers to join Harry's, all over his hand and Harry's stomach.
Unable to support himself he fell forwards. Before he squashed him flat with his dead weight Harry grabbed his shoulders and rolled him sideways with one smooth movement, so he ended up on his back on the floor, shoulder to shoulder with Potter, one of his hips thudding against the desk leg he had hit already.
"Wow," Harry breathed when he could form words, staring unblinking at the ceiling. "Way better than I imagined."
"You'd imagined?" Draco asked hoarsely, also staring up at the ceiling.
There was a click from across the room and they simultaneously looked up towards the door. They shrugged and then looked at each other, both blushing and looking quickly away before staring back up at the ceiling.
"Yeah I'd imagined," Harry admitted. "I take it you hadn't?"
The hesitancy in his voice was clear and Draco's mouth twitched in a smile. "No, I hadn't," he said, then after a pause, "I think I might have to start."
"Well, you could start imagining, or we could just do it for real," Harry said. Draco turned his head to the side but Harry was staring determinedly up at the ceiling still, two bright pink spots on his cheekbones.
"Hmm. You do seem quite apt at misbehaving with the lights out," Draco said airily. "Shame to waste talent like that."
Harry nudged him with his elbow, but he was smiling. "Git."
"Prat," Draco responded. He looked down with a grimace, flexing his sticky fingers. "Potter, can you reach your shirt from here?"
Harry looked over at him and then nodded, sitting up and wincing, the lines of the joins between the flagstones clearly imprinted on his back. Before he moved any further he blushed and quickly tucked himself away into his boxers, which Draco noted were black- not Gryffindor red like his earlier prediction. Holding his trousers together with one hand, Harry retrieved his shirt which Draco promptly pulled out of his hands.
"Excellent," he said and Harry made an indignant noise somewhere between a splutter and a cough.
"Are you seriously wiping your hands on my shirt?"
Draco shot him a winning smile as he continued to do just that. "Yep."
He tossed the shirt over to Harry who pulled a face at him, but grudgingly followed suit, wiping down his hands and his stomach before doing up his trousers and belt.
Draco followed suit, feeling too lethargic to sit up. He felt surprise run through him as Harry tossed the shirt aside again and laid back down, pulling Draco's arm out so he could rest his head on Draco's upper arm, bending his arm at the elbow and holding his hand on his chest.
"So…" he began cautiously. "Am I going to be allowed to get up anytime soon?"
"Hmm," Harry shrugged, looking down at Draco's fingers like they were the most interesting thing he'd seen all day. Considering what had just happened, they probably were.
"Hmm?" Draco repeated, but in a questioning tone.
"I'm just getting the most out of this experience whilst you're actually being nice to me," Harry said, briefly twisting around to try and look up at Draco and then looking back at their hands.
"You just helped me have a rather spectacular orgasm, Potter," Draco yawned. "It's making me less inclined to be a twat to you."
"Who knew? All I had to do was toss you off and you'd have stopped being a dickhead," Harry said and Draco chuckled.
Harry looked up sharply and a smile quirked his lips. Draco knew why; he had never laughed like that, at something funny Potter had said rather than at him.Exactly the same as earlier when he had made Potter laugh with his comment about Snape.
"Do it more often and I'll be nice more often," Draco said with a smirk.
"Hang on," Harry said, rolling over onto his front so he was half laid across Draco, looking down on him with his palms on his chest. "Weren't you taking the piss out of me earlier for being gay?"
Draco didn't miss a beat. "No. I was taking the piss because the Weaselette outed you in the middle of breakfast, I didn't say anything about your sexuality."
A small frown crossed Harry's face and Draco could almost see him rerunning the conversation in his mind. He grinned when Harry's frown turned into a full on scowl, obviously conceding Draco was right.
"Well you called me a gayboy," Harry said matter of factly and Draco inwardly winced. Shit.
"Yes, but I also said I didn't want you rubbing up against me in a darkened room," Draco countered, with a raised eyebrow. "That actually worked out quite well for me."
The scowl disappeared and Draco mentally congratulated himself for the save as Harry smiled and leant forwards fractionally.
"So, where do we go now?" Harry asked.
"To bed." Draco said and Harry grinned.
"Yours or mine?"
Draco groaned, shutting his eyes. "I didn't mean that-"
"I know," came the whispered reply, and a pair of gentle lips were gently pressing against his. "I don't care though. I want to."
"Really?" Draco asked against Harry's lips.
"Really." Harry replied. "Come on. You know in a really fucked up sort of way we're made for each other."
"Opposites attract," Draco said thoughtfully and Potter smiled excitedly.
"Exactly!" he smiled, looking very pleased with himself. "I think it'll be a lot better with us shagging instead of fighting."
Draco opened an eye, interested. "Shagging?"
"Well," Harry grinned, shifting more fully on top of Draco, one hand sliding down his side and making him squirm contentedly. Harry leant down and gently ran his tongue along Draco's neck, making his breath hitch and prompting him to wrap his arms tightly around him. "If you insist…"
Snape glanced idly back to the mirror which showed nothing but darkness and then looked at the clock on the wall. Half an hour of enforced proximity should have been enough: by turning the lights off the boys would have had no choice but to sit next to each other and work together, and if that hadn't worked Snape was going to give up.
He picked up both his goblet of wine and his wand, quickly spelling away the red ring that had been left on some fourth years essay on antidotes. Not that it was worth much anyway, with the big black P scribbled on the corner, but it wouldn't do for some smart mouthed student to start a whisper about him drinking whilst marking essays.
Raising the goblet to his lips to take a sip, he flicked his wand once more and restored the lights in the adjacent potions room. He looked back to the mirror and then choked on his mouthful of wine, eyes widening in shock.
Spluttering, he reached forwards and slammed the mirror face down on the desk, hoping it hadn't broken. That was not what he had had in mind when he wanted Draco and Potter to get along, at all!
He shut his eyes and silently counted to ten before jabbing his wand once more to unlock the door to the potions room. He didn't want to have to go in there- in fact he didn't want to have to look either of the boys in the face ever, ever again. They at some point would work out that along with the lights being relit, the door was unlocked and they were free to go. If they didn't that was just their own fault anyway and they could sleep in there for all he cared.
Had they not realised they were being watched? Why wouldn't it occur to them that Snape wouldn't leave them completely unsupervised when they were well known for fighting and breaking things around the other? Obviously being smart had slipped off of both boys agendas in the face of raging hormones.
He reached for the bottle of wine and upended it into his goblet. One of his students may actually earn themselves an O if he finished marking these papers after drinking a whole bottle. Not likely though. That horrible, horrible glimpse of Draco basically riding Potter in the most undignified manner would be burnt into his memory and making him feel disgustingly nauseous and horrifically bad temped for quite some time.
He shot the mirror a glare and settled back into his chair. This was exactly why he never ever tried to do good deeds, or the right thing. He always ended up worse off than if he'd left well alone.
Oh well. In retrospect, his plan had worked, he thought glumly. Draco wouldn't get himself into half as much trouble for sleeping with Potter as he would fighting with him. And maybe sleeping with Draco would divert some of Potter's post-war frustration and calm him down a little.
Snape grimaced. He'd just dock each of the boys fifty house points for misuse of study space and making him feel sick, and then spend the rest of the term staring at them and making them feel as uncomfortable as possible.
He should have learned his lesson during the war. Interfering with anything to do with or connected to Harry Potter or his temperamental Godson?