A/N: Embarrassingly short chapter. Apologies. Still hope it's enjoyable.
And I want to take a moment to give a big thank you to everyone who's read/reviewed/liked this story. I appreciate all of you, especially since you all are reading after my hideously long break. So yeah. Thank you very, very much.
"You don't hate me," Harry said adamantly. "Stop lying." He shifted closer until he and Draco were flush against each other. He leaned closer still, and stopped an inch away from his lips. He'd wanted this so long, and at the moment he couldn't even remember why he had denied himself this. It was obvious now with his hips pressed against Draco's, that the other man had wanted this for almost as long as Harry had. "You said I could lick you where ever I wanted," he reminded Draco.
Draco's lips quirked into a smile. "You were high as a rogue Snitch. I didn't think you'd remember."
Harry grinned sheepishly as he recalled his less than stellar behavior last night. "I do, though." He lifted his head slightly off the pillow, trailed kisses from Draco's ear to his jaw. It had been a while since he'd done this, and never with a man. Draco's stubble pricked his lips, but Harry ignored it. He smiled to himself when he felt Draco's heartbeat quicken. Harry knew his pulse was far from calm, too.
"Potter, I – "
"Harry," he murmured into Draco's skin. "You called me Harry last night."
"Harry," Draco said, his tone annoyed. Harry chuckled, because despite this – the shameless rutting, the clenching fingers, the urge to never stop touching – they were still them. They still had their push and pull. "Come here, you bastard." Draco urged his face to lift up, away from his skin, and Harry whined. He wanted to taste more of that chin, that everything. "Shut up. I have to – let me." Harry didn't know what Draco was trying to say, but it became very clear when Draco fitted his lips against Harry's.
He heard his own breath hitch, and it was just then that he realized he hadn't actually kissed Draco until then. And then he realized he was kissing Draco Malfoy. He wanted to kick himself. They could have been doing this all along if he hadn't been such a bloody fuckwit. It was a little awkward at first, mostly because the bed was not meant for two people in the first place, and their elbows kept hitting each other in the ribs and armpits. It was a miracle they had lasted the whole night in the small bed without falling out. They also had to make sure to keep as silent as possible as other boys in the room were waking up to get ready for their day.
Eventually, they figured it out when Harry tucked his leg around Draco's and nudged him so that Draco was lying on top of Harry. He broke apart with a groan as Draco's hardness pressed firmly against his. He trailed his fingers down Draco's side, untucked his sleep wrinkled white shirt from his trousers. He smirked smugly at Draco when the other man made an encouraging noise.
"You too," Draco said, his face pressed into the crook of Harry's neck. He fumbled with Harry clothes and very soon there were too many hands doing too many things all at once. Exasperated at their lack of progress, Draco shifted up, straddling Harry and quickly divested himself of his shirt and then Harry of his. Harry approved of this very much, even as he watched with hooded eyes when Draco cast a silencing charm around his bed.
Harry curled his fingers in the nape of Draco's neck, pulled him down for a thorough snog, relishing the skin on skin contact. He scooted up the bed so he was leaning against the headboard and managed to kick his trousers off without kneeing Draco someplace sensitive. Draco smiled at his flailing and settled between his legs. "Here," he said. He trailed a finger around the outline of his cock, and laughed like the cruel, evil man he was when Harry tried to press against him to gain more friction.
"Malfoy," Harry gritted through his clenched teeth, tightened his hold on Draco's neck.
"Double standards, Harry?" Draco tsked. "How disappointing."
"I have to call you Harry, but you can't call me Draco?" He pouted his swollen lips, and Harry realized with a jolt that he had made them that way.
"I'll show you double standards." Without waiting for a reaction, Harry flipped them over, miraculously managing not to topple out of the small bed. He ground down against Draco's crotch and smirked when he moaned.
They'd wasted enough time, he thought, and without any more delay took both of them in hand. It felt weird. It was almost like beating off by himself, but not. His palm was too small to fit around both the dicks, and there was more pre-come and it was little dry. It wasn't perfect by any means, but he didn't think it would be very them if it was perfect. Nothing about this, him and Draco together was perfect. There was too much – but he didn't want to think on that now.
He leaned down and pressed kisses on Draco's bare chest. He had promised to lick him everywhere he wanted, after all.
"Ahh, ahh, Harry." Draco's slender fingers pinched at his nipples. "Come on, come on. For me." His voiced sounded unsteady, and Harry was glad of the proof that he wasn't the only one feeling completely undone by this.
Harry kissed him, nipped hard at Draco's lower lip and said, "Yes. Yeah." He was so close – embarrassingly so. He wanted to make sure Draco was too. Harry twisted his wrist, fisted their cocks tighter, the pressure became almost unbearable.
The sight of Draco's eyes clenched shut as he pushed up against Harry sent him over the edge and he came violently. Draco followed immediately after, curses flowing from his reddened lips. His entire torso was flushed and he looked gorgeous. Harry collapsed on top of him, grunted as Draco pushed him off to the side muttering something about oversensitive and heaviness.
"Well," Harry managed when he caught his breath back. "That was – "
Harry shrugged. "All I mean is... that was...that was nice, yeah? Very nice, really. No reason why we shouldn't do it again. Practice makes perfect and all that."
For some reason that made Draco stare at him like he had sprouted two more heads. "You're not – you're not freaking out. Why aren't you freaking out?"
Harry quirked an eyebrow at him, confused. "Do you want me freaking out?"
"No. Obviously not. I just thought you'd be running out of here already, crying into Mummy and Daddy's shoulder. I thought this was a one time deal." Draco looked everywhere but Harry as he spoke the last few words.
"One time." Harry blinked at the green canopy of the bed, swallowed hard and made himself look at Draco. "I don't want it – do you want it to be a one time thing?"
"No!" He sounded horrified at the idea. "Definitely not."
"Oh. Okay. Well, then."
"Good. That's good."
Harry chanced a glance at the other man out of the corner of his eye, only to find Draco was looking back at him too. He burst out laughing. Draco seemed bemused for a moment before he joined in too.
Right then, in that moment, he forgot about last night, and leaving in a week, leaving his parents and his godfather, about not seeing Dumbledore ever again.
Harry smiled as Draco leaned over to kiss him some more. He could get used to this.
James shrugged tiredly at Lily's much too chipper tone. He knew she was trying to put up a front for the benefit of Harry, because she was truly upset that they would be leaving soon. Honestly, though, there was no need to look so bloody awake in the morning.
"Haven't seen him since dinner," Remus said, blasphemously cheerful too. "Thought he might be sulking somewhere with Ron and Hermione. You've made a very moody child."
James debated lobbing something at him and defending his son, but that would require utilizing energy he didn't have. "Meh," he said instead, and dug into the toast heartily.
Lily stared at the Great Hall doors where Draco had just come in with Regulus. He looked uncharacteristically happy. The news of their return was clearly having a positive effect on his spirits where Harry had looked nothing but miserable yesterday. "Maybe he was with Draco."
"Are you joking?" Sirius snorted into his cereal. "They haven't spoken two words to each other since the train."
James had to agree. Whatever faux pas Draco had committed by mentioning their fifth year seemed to jeopardize their shaky friendship further.
At the last minute, Draco changed his purposeful walk to the Slytherin table, and turned to the Gryffindor table. "Morning," he said, taking a seat between Remus and Lily.
"Hello Draco. Have you seen Harry at all since yesterday?"
"Why would I?" Draco asked, mouth curled in an amused smirk. "Have you asked Granger and Weasley? They're more likely to know where he is."
"Of course. I'm just worried. He seemed very upset yesterday." Lily frowned worriedly. James took her hand under the table to assure her without speaking. It worked fractionally. Lily's tense shoulders relaxed as he rubbed his thumb against the underside of her wrist.
"That's because he's an overly emotional idiot," Draco dead panned. "He knew we were always going to leave soon or later." He picked up a stray piece of toast and smeared marmalade on it."Not that I'm not utterly heart broken over leaving such scintillating company, mind, but I would rather be back where I belong."
"Right. Yeah," said James. He couldn't imagine living in the past indefinitely. "And you'll see us very soon too. It's us who's going to have to wait for several years."
"Right," Draco said stiffly. He turned the conversation to other subjects soon after that. James realized this was Draco's twisted way of saying goodbye to them.
James smiled to himself, and hoped that someday – very soon – Harry and he could get their head out of their sphincters and see how perfect they were for each other. The likelihood of that happening anytime soon seemed remote. But there was always the future.
They didn't see Harry until their first class of the day. He sneaked into the classroom just as Slughorn was waxing poetic about the Draught of Living Death, a full ten minutes late. If it were anyone other than Slughorn, his tardiness would have been severely punished. As it was, Slughorn didn't even pause at the creak of the door. Harry flushed a brilliant red under Hermione's glare, and whispered something too low for James to understand.
He caught up with Harry just outside Slughorn's dungeons. "Hey. Where have you been?"
"Hmm? Oh, fancied a walk this morning."
"A walk?" James asked, skeptical. "In January? In knee deep snow?"
"I like the cold." He shrugged nonchalantly. "Lost track of time."
"Yeah. It happens."
James peered at Harry. "Of course," he said, and decided then and there that Harry was lying. "Stroll, yeah." Harry grinned at him, looking for all the world very innocent. James wouldn't have even caught on if he hadn't seen himself practice that very same look of relaxed innocence countless times before.
He walked with Harry to Transfiguration, and vowed to follow Harry if he left without an explanation once again.