Requested and Main Story Idea by the lovely and patient: SuirenAngel
Written by not-so-slightly-insane: NeuroticNeko
This contains no Dumbledore bashing, no Weasley bashing. This is boyxboy. If you don't know what that means then you shouldn't be here.
WARNINGS: Unbetaed and this chap contains a lot of...smex
The hot water filled his ears and he imagined that gaze locked onto him, raking his body. Suddenly, he felt heavy, hot, pulsing pressure press into his body. It fell upon everything and Draco felt something split apart from inside of him. It forced his Veela down down down and his chest ached and fluttered and thrummed and hurt.
Gasping for breath, Draco felt the water run off him before he twisted his neck and found Potter's eyes staring piercingly into his.
Draco trembled as Potter crawled towards him, a predator in his gait, hunger in his eyes. He turned his face away, uneasy, and stared at the foam on his legs and watched the way the suds floated in the hot water. Every one of Draco's nerve endings were open and eager, trembling, yearning for touch. Waiting, waiting for that inevitable moment of contact, and it came.
Warm fingers pressed into the nape of his nape and twisted themselves into his wet hair. Draco gulped nervously and the air cooled the skin not submerged in the water. Slowly, carefully he was pulled around and then everything was lost in a haze as his lips were devoured. His skin slid against cold porcelain and he closed his eyes as he was pulled out of the hot water and into Potter's lap; where the hand on the back of his neck and the arm around his waist worked together to press him against Potter's chest. Draco was fighting to breath, his head was fuzzy, his lips were burning, his body was burning. Then those warm, dry lips were caressing the side of his jaw and Draco was able to breathe, tiny breaths that further pressed his bare chest onto Potter's thinly clothed one. He felt muscles bunch up behind him as Potter's hand pressed against his waist and one moved down to cup his arse. Draco felt a shock of pleasure dance through his system at the feel of naked skin against naked skin. Then, the Golden Boy's mouth was upon his again- and this time, it was wet, it was wild and Draco's mouth opened of its own accord to let the hurricane in. He was hyper aware of the tongue that petted his erotically and of the smooth texture of Potter's jaw, he was aware of the place where his pelvis was crushed against the Gryffindor's, aware of the cold floor that pressed against his knees. They parted for a moment, wild green eyes boring into his eyes before he was abruptly pulled into that warm heat once more.
And this time, there was so much more. Potter's scent was overwhelming and heady, filling his senses and dimly, as he was devoured, he felt his cock nudge awake, slowly filling with blood. He squirmed in Potter's lap, his penis firming up rapidly, and found Potter's own hardness pressing against his stomach, where it had been pressing the whole time, leaving a spot of dampness on Potter's infirmary gown. A thrill of desire and pleasure thrummed up Draco's spine and he was panting, fingers scrabbling at the thin cloth that caressed the firm, tan flesh.
Draco wasn't sure when it happened nor how, but somehow both of them ended up breathless, gasping for air as Draco's fingers clawed into the Savior's back and Potter's fingers gripped Draco's waist tightly. Their groins were pressed tightly together, the thin cloth that separated their cocks was almost non-existent as they desperately grinded, seeking release. Potter growled and his chest rumbled as their manhoods rubbed and slid wetly against each other. Draco felt his eyes roll back into his head as the pleasure spiked and he broke off the kiss, burying his head into the crook of Potter's neck. Where the dominant scent was strongest.
A sharp, burning pain flared into existence as Potter sucked harshly on Draco's collarbone before it disappeared just as quickly, and there was only the indescribable sensation of being crushed against Potter's chest as they rutted against each other on the infirmary floor. And then somehow, Draco's hands were pressed against Potter's shoulder blades, with the gown bunched up around his elbows, in a bid to press the boy closer, to meld them together. Draco hissed as the cloth was eliminated, Potter's cock was a branding iron against his own and it was delicious. Whining, he writhed his whole body against the Savior's, rubbing the other boy's scent all over him.
Swiftly and unexpectedly Draco was pushed to the ground with one strong thrust of Potter's hips and Draco's shoulder blades were pressed into the cold floor.
Draco looked up at Potter, despite the haze of lust running through his veins. The Saviour was poised above him, tanned arms and chest surrounded him and the pressure of the boys hips on his effectively trapped him. Not that Draco was trying to get away from this anyway. Potter began thrusting again and sparks went off behind the Slytherin's eyes. Everything was somehow more intense in this position, Potter's thrusts lasted longer and they pressed harder against Draco's erection- while the Saviour's eyes bore into his. Draco couldn't look away.
Eventually, Potter started humping Draco's leg erratically and Draco felt his own climax approaching. Heavy breathing filled the room and he shut his eyes as the sensations became too much, too overwhelming. When the feeling of impending release roared over him, Draco wrapped his legs around Potter's waist and shouted, "Yes- ahn ahhnn, YES!" before his cock twitched and pearly liquid splashed over Potter's taut stomach. Draco allowed himself to go absolutely limp and soon, with a grinding thrust Potter growled low and loud, nipping the love bite on Draco's collarbone as long strings of come erupted over their bellies.
Draco's eyes shuttered closed as exhaustion rolled over him and he laid there, utterly spent, with the Boy-Who-Lived draped over him.
Harry watched with wonder as Draco's pale blonde lashes lay flush against his cheeks and gently, almost reverently, he stretched his fingers out and touched the damp hair against Draco's forehead. The hair was soft and silky, even when wet, and it curled itself softly around Harry's finger, limp and pliant. His eyes travelled over the aristocratic features and over the soft lips. He looked upon the sharp, bony chin in awe and wondered at the beauty of the boy in front of him. Had Draco always been this enchanting creature before him?
He looked down lower, spied the yellowing bruises and felt ill. Never, never again, he thought, stroking his fingers over the bruises.
Harry felt something melt within him and he leaned forward and pressed his lips upon the sleeping Draco's. Warm breath puffed over his lips and Harry was barraged with a sweet scent- a soft lemony smell with a faint influence of expensive perfume. Harry pressed his face against the crook of Draco's neck. The smell was divine…but how come he'd never smelt it before? Surely he'd have smelt Draco at least once in all of their classes together?
Harry lifted himself gently off of the Slytherin and picked up the pair of towels that were laid on one of the spare beds. He knelt by Draco and slowly began wiping off the evidence of their activities.
After he was done, he used the remaining clean towel to dry them both off. With utmost care and gentleness, Harry dressed them both before depositing Draco onto his cot.
There was a moment of hesitation when Harry looked down at the sleeping form. Should he climb in as well? He was tempted, horribly tempted. He wanted to scoop the thin form up and cuddle it close to his chest while he drifted off into slumber.
Harry shuddered. With reluctance, he fell into his bed and pulled the sheets over his head.
After he had counted to the three hundredth and sixty ninth sheep, Harry grew frustrated and shucked his covers off. He couldn't sleep. Memories of what had just happened, of what had happened with Draco, were keeping him alert and slightly aroused. He turned his head and looked at the snoozing form across from him.
Harry huffed quietly and turned around, so that his back faced away from Draco. What were they going to do the next morning?
Harry awoke to the smell of hot porridge. He woke, yawning and stretching his arms. Groggily, he opened his eyes- and immediately shut them when strong sunlight assaulted him. He breathed deeply for a moment, and was aware of a gentle tugging feeling on the back of his head. Tilting his face in its direction, he saw Draco sitting on small table set up in the middle of the spare infirmary room.
Feeling his bones creak and protest, he heaved himself off the bed and plodded over to where the Malfoy was sitting quietly, eyes focused on the pot of sugar.
The closer Harry came to Draco, the stranger he felt. The little niggling on the back of his mind grew and he felt the urge to wrap his arms around the blonde and spoon feed him little bites of porridge. Harry scratched the back of his head when he reached the chair.
Should he sit down?
The events of last night seemed to catch up with him and the Ive-Just-Woken-Up mindset disappeared. It was replaced with Oh-My-God-What-Should-I-Do!?
Nervously, Harry gripped the back of the chair, it was plastic and warmed quickly in his palm. Shaking his hair away from his eyes, he peered down at the Slytherin opposite him.
His face was bright, neon red.
Harry felt his face heat up in sympathy.
'Shut it, Potter"
"Yes, Draco" Harry ducked his head and poured the jug of milk into the bowl set up in front of him. When he reached for the sugar pot, Draco's voice sliced through the air.
"What did you just call me?!"
Harry jumped slightly in his seat and blinked owlishly at the blonde.
"No! You called me…you called me-! You called me Draco"
Harry sank into his seat. His mind had betrayed him. Stupid brain. Harry cleared his throat and sought to defend the little shred of courage he still had.
"Well…after last night…I mean, like… I mean, we did that and…wouldn't it change things? I mean like, you've probably done things like that before, and it probably didn't mean anything to you but…uh…it felt good? Really good? I wouldn't mind, urm, doing it aga-"
Draco shot him a look and bit viciously into his spoonful of porridge, he had not done things like that before! Like, he had never done it naked! It had always been strictly clothes-on. Draco swallowed and thought about it. Did that count?
…Wait a second…
Pott- Harry liked it? Hewouldn't mind doing it again!? Draco's mind shrieked into his mind's ear. He almost spat his porridge out. He fumbled for a serviette and wiped it across his mouth.
"Again!?" His mouth worked silently.
Harry looked slightly abashed. "Uhhh…yeah, it felt good?"
Draco swallowed the porridge still in his mouth. A faint tugging sensation pulled at the back of his neck. Ohhh god. Last night was coming back in torrents and floods. The faint cloud he had been keeping himself inside burst and Draco was doused in a shock of cold (or rather, burning hot) water. His limbs tingled and his breath quickened minutely.
…only the indescribable sensation of being crushed against Potter's chest as they rutted against each other on the infirmary floor…
Draco squirmed in his seat and averted his eyes as Harry gulped down his first spoonful of porridge.
Harry really didn't know what he was thinking. But as he watched lips that had been gasping and moaning under his last night, wrap themselves around. He suddenly wondered…
He put his spoon down with a clink and watched, mesmerised, as the pale column worked to swallow the food. Grey eyes lifted and watched him warily beneath a pale blonde fringe of hair. Harry locked their gazes together and stretched his arm out, letting the tips of his fingers trail over the pointed chin. The pale skin trembled under his touch and the grey irises darkened. Harry leaned forwards and hooked a finger beneath the chin. He paused then, and looked searchingly at Draco. The blonde opened his lips and leaned into Harry's touch.
Harry gently pulled the Malfoy towards him and let their lips touch in the briefest of moments. Sweet, sweet pleasure washed through Harry and he caressed the short hairs on the back of Draco's neck to pull him closer. Their lips touched again and Harry grazed his mouth over Draco's, breathing in his scent. They parted again and Draco looked up at him, his eyes were blown and a pink flush adorned his cheeks.
Harry leaned forwards and captured Draco's lips again, and this time he opened his mouth and pressed his tongue against the seam of Draco's mouth, tasting the flesh there. The lips yielded beneath his and Harry's tongue entered the porridge-tasting mouth, scouring the last dregs of oatmeal from Draco's mouth. They paused for breath and Harry reached across the table to grip both of Draco's hands. Still panting for breath, they re-joined, their wet appendages dancing shyly together within the blondes mouth.
When they separated again, Harry cupped Draco's face within his palms.
"Draco…" he breathed, feathering his thumbs over his face. The blonde shuddered within his palms. He gazed upon the face across from his in wonderment. He had…never felt this way about anyone before in his life. Not Cho. Not Ginny.
Last night. Both of them. Writhing on the ground. Together.
Harry knew that the heat that had fallen over him last night had definitely been the fault of his Scáth- but was that such a bad thing…?
Harry remembered the hot, violent kiss they shared on the ballroom floor, he remembered the jealousy, the possessiveness that filled him when he found Draco pinning Goyle against the wall, he remembered waking up with a caring Draco, a gentle Draco who applied bruise balm to his skin when there was really no reason for him to do so, he remembered the hot pressure of last night, when something in his brain went click! And he prowled over and staked his claim over Draco…
Draco opened his mouth, looking like he was about to say something when the door opened and Madam Pomfrey walked in, a cheerful smile on her face.
They sprang apart guiltily.
"Good morning, boys! How was breakfast?" she said gaily, waving her wand about to open the windows and let fresh air in.
Harry floundered about but it was Draco who answered her, in a somewhat tremulous (but still very snobbish) voice.
"Good morning, Madam Pomfrey."
Harry echoed him, spooning up some porridge to distract himself. Pomfrey looked expectantly towards him and Harry stopped, racking his brain for something to say- but Draco answered well enough for both of them. He began with a big sigh.
"I suppose I must tell you. The porridge had barely any taste- I thought I was eating sand- and I had to douse it in almost non-existent sugar. You're not going to tell me there is a sugar shortage at Hogwarts, is there? Because judging by the desserts we get in the Great Hall, there hasn't been a shortage in Hogwarts since the Founders founded Hogwarts itself-"
Madam Pomfrey giggled and then started gasping for laughter as he progressed. "I'd almost forgotten what it was like to have a certain Malfoy in my infirmary! Oho! Such fun"
Harry looked at the shaking healer. "Are you okay, Madam?"
"Fine. Fine. Ahaha- SAND! The house elves much really love you!"
Draco scowled into his bowl. Madam Pomfrey wiped her tears and waved the dishes and table away. They remained sitting in their chairs at her order and sat still as she performed diagnostic tests with her wand.
"Very good, Mr Potter! The bruises will be gone in a day and the swelling on your ribs are remarkable reduced. The tail, however, that needs more work. You're going to have to stay here another day or so. We need a cast for it to set properly"
Harry blanched at the thought of having to wrap his tail in gauze. It would look like a bloody sausage, it would.
She moved over and patted Draco on the knee. The Malfoy scion stiffened in his seat.
"All is good, Mr Malfoy…all the bruises on your neck are only shadows of what they were and they shan't be giving you any more pain…The bruises on your back are also very nearly gone. All you need it to drink a potion inside the cart I gave you two. It's for damaged muscles and if you drink it now you may go back to you dormitory tonight"
She patted his knee again and he almost sprang off the chair, looking for the potion.
Winking at them both, she disappeared out of the door way, taking the two chairs with her.
Harry walked over to where Draco was rummaging for his potion and grabbed the roll of gauze he had been so frustrated with before. Sitting down gingerly on his bed, he twisted awkwardly and rolled the gauze around his tail. Harry frowned and tried to pull the gauze off the roll. It wouldn't budge and felt like cement under his hands.
The blonde in front of him gulped down his potion and Harry looked at the roll in his hands, disgruntled.
"You know…I have a theory, Harry. Remember that slip of paper Dumbledore so conveniently left for us? I reckon this whole thing with the balms and gauze is one great big scheme. Dumbledore's scheme. He said 'unless the relationship between you to get better, right? I still can't apply the bloody bruise balm to myself- but I bet you a Gallon, Harry, that if I get my hands on that roll of gauze, it will unroll perfectly"
DUNDUNDUNDUN! I finished!