fic: all out
Title: All out
Pairing: HP/DM
Word count: 7,154
Rating: NC-17
Notes: This was written for megyal. I was pinch-hitting for hds-beltane, which turned out awesomely. =D
Summary: Harry, upon Hermione's prompting, tries to make Malfoy 'function as a normal member of society' again. Apparently, the best way to do this is to be seen around with Harry Potter, who couldn't possibly be consorting with Dark Wizards, therefore leading to the conclusion that Draco, of course, is not a Dark Wizard.
Snape frowned at the boy curled up on his sofa, looking disarmingly innocent and completely drunk. One hand still had several relaxed fingers loosely around the neck of a large bottle of Firewhisky. Snape didn't even know that Firewhisky came in bottles that big. He tapped Draco on the shoulder, and watched the slumped figure roll over onto his other side and blithely ignore him. "Draco," he started warningly. "Don't ignore me." Draco, wonderfully contrary, ignored him.
Snape cleared his throat in preparation for his Professor-style bark, guaranteed to make the blond boy fall off the sofa. "Draco," he snapped, enunciating clearly and sharply. The boy bolted upright in reaction to the cold tone, and stared, wide-eyed, at Snape, as though expecting to be issued a detention. Then he groaned, and turned away, rubbing his temples. Hangover, Snape guessed.
"You really didn't have to..." muttered Draco semi-coherently, before the older man gave him a thwap around the head. "OW!"
"Just because I can brew this does not mean that you can just imbibe alcohol whenever you so wish, Draco," Snape handed over a small vial of painkiller, which Draco sleepily downed, with a nod for thanks. "You're welcome," Snape muttered dryly. "Now. Are you going to mope about all day or actually go and find some work? You owe me money for the ridiculous amount of hot water you use each day."
The blond boy was lazily lobbing his empty Firewhiskey bottle into the bin, and chuckled, "Was that a rhetorical question, Severus? Mope about, of course. What work can I find? I might be an acquitted Death Eater due to extenuating circumstances, but that doesn't stop people from thinking that I'm a Death Eater." The boy wandered into the bathroom to clean himself up, squinting critically at his hair, which resembled the bottom of a mop.
Tuts were heard from Snape. "That's because you were a Death Eater, Draco. Besides: so was I, and I still have work." Snape's answer was annoyingly valid. Draco scowled.
"You're also acknowledged as pretty much the best potions master in the country," Draco managed through a mouthful of toothpaste foam, "Of course you'll still have desperate witches asking for... breast enhancers and... other beauty potions." Through the mirror on the wall, Draco could see his former Professor's face of disgust.
Snape continued, "Anyway, he had the foresight to owl me again, with a list of dates he's free and plans to take you off my hands. Kindly find a job, and soon, so that you have money to move out, and then I won't be forced to extend my hospitality to him so often."
Draco snorted. "It's not like I ask him to. I'm just his current charity case. He'll go away once someone more needy turns up."
Snape snickered quietly as Draco pushed past. "Did you just call yourself 'needy', Draco?" The blond sniffed, and declined from answering.
-
When Harry Potter appeared promptly at seven in the fireplace of Snape's living room, Draco was lounging on the sofa against, reading Chaucer and idly finishing off an apple. "Come on, Malfoy. I gave you plenty of notice that I was coming." Draco gave him a flat look. "If you're not ready in two minutes, I'm going to drag you out as you are," Harry continued with a slightly mocking grin. By the way Draco stood gracefully and just slipped his socked feet into his shoes, he had apparently been prepared to go out despite the antagonistic feeling. Huh.
"What is this place, Potter?" The blond eyed the open kitchen suspiciously as they Flooed to the entrance of a Chinese restaurant. "And why have you brought me to the... the land of barbarians?" Several tables of Chinese people turned around to glare at Draco at that insult as they reached a small table with a fire set into the middle, and a cooking pot set on top. Malfoy made a retching noise at the plates of raw food placed around the fire. "Potter! This isn't hygienic! You don't expect me to eat this, do you? I'll get food poisoning!"
Harry rolled his eyes, ignored the boy's protests and nudged him into a chair. "This is a restaurant for Chinese hotpot. I did it with Cho a couple of months back at her place. The blue ringed chopsticks are for cooked food, and the red ringed ones are for raw, so you're not going to get food poisoning." He grinned, rubbed his hands, and dumped copious amounts of various coloured sauces into the boiling pot, along with slices of pre-seasoned raw beef. Draco watched with morbid interest. "It's actually healthier to cook food like this, because you're only boiling it, no oil or anything, and you can control how well-done you want your food."
The boy noticed his companion's half-scared, curious look, and snorted. "Have you never seen raw food before, Malfoy? Have the house-elf and servants prepare it all, do you?" A glare from Draco made Harry both laugh, and realise that, indeed, Malfoy had never seen raw food before. To him, it looked like thinner slices of meat like those they used in Care of Magical Creatures to feed the carnivores, layered with grainy pepper, salt, and the occasional bit of cornflour showing. Was this what his food really looked like before it was cooked? How disgusting.
Harry patiently pointed out each dish and explained how the colour revealed the type of meat it was, before deftly using chopsticks to scoop up the now-done beef and letting it cool before shoving it at Malfoy, who had the option of eating it, or having it dropped down his robes. He ate it as though he expected to die. Watching Malfoy amusedly, Harry grinned when the other boy expressed approval. "Not bad," he commented. "Tender, too." He eyed the pot of boiling water. Was that all there was to it? Didn't seem too hard. Harry started to shovel a lot more food into the boiling pot. "So tell me, Potter," Draco watched bits of food change colour, fascinated, "When did you learn to hold chopsticks so well?" Harry glanced at his right hand in surprise, as though he hadn't noticed the absence of a fork at all, and that his hand had just miraculously learnt by itself.
"When I did this hotpot thing with Cho; her parents don't own any forks, apparently, so it was either learn, drop food down myself, or not eat. Besides, they were very eager to teach me." Harry shrugged, and popped some tofu into his mouth.
Draco sniggered- probably at the mental image of Potter going through the chopstick learning curve and dropping many hot items of food down his front. "So you and Chang are getting it back on then?" He wiggled his pale eyebrows, now getting into this hotpot business. "Is that why you're spending a Friday night with me then?" The boy glowered at his chopsticks, as though that would improve his ability to hold them, aaaaand... Transfigured them into a fork.
"Malfoy! That's cheating!" Harry turned them right back, and snatched Draco's wand away. "Go on, try something new once in a while!" A pouty, sullen look settled over Draco, as he grumpily stared at the chopsticks. "Like this," Harry prompted, adjusting the other boy's fingers. "And while we're at it, no. I'm not 'getting it back on' with Cho. It was her birthday, and twenty-three other people were there too. I'm with you on a Friday night because-"
"Because you feel sorry for me?"
A scathing look was shot towards Draco. "Because if you're seen around me often, people will stop thinking that you're a shady character, and eventually you'll be able to function as a normal member of society again." Absently, Harry readjusted Draco's chopsticks again. "Like that. Only the top one moves."
Snort. "This is Granger's idea, isn't it? Sounds like the sort of thing she'd say. 'Normal member of society', eh?"
Harry flushed slightly. "Yeah, it was Hermione's idea. But I was the one who agreed to it and carried it through." He recovered. "Anyway, next time, I'm taking you shopping." Draco gave him an incredulous look, as if to wonder why he was the one being taken shopping when he blatantly had the better fashion sense of the two of them. Harry ignored him. "So be ready by ten. I'll pick you up from Snape's place again."
"At least Severus will be glad you're keeping me out of his hair," muttered Draco, finishing up the last of the awkward fishballs, solving the problem of how to pick up a spherical object with chopsticks by viciously stabbing it with one. "There, that worked," he said, happily stuffing the thing into his mouth. "Not bad at all, Potter," he glanced around at the plates they had emptied. "Didn't taste like fish though," he commented on the fishball, which was rather like a gobstopper. He could feel the heat through his teeth, and it had rather a rough texture, but Draco found he had rather liked it anyway.
Harry polished off the last scrap of beef, and chuckled, "I don't think I can imagine Snape being glad of anything I do, and please don't give me images of you in Snape's hair..." A chopstick flew towards Harry, who ducked it effortlessly, and he snickered at the appalled look on the blond's face. "I should take you to a barbeque sometime," he added, suddenly thinking of it.
"...Barbeeee-whatting? Are you planning to take up every weekend of mine until I function normally in society again?" Draco glowered half-heartedly. He didn't mind so very much as long as Potter picked up the bill, and as long as the food was as good as this time.
"Yep. Remember, ten." Harry picked up the bill and dis-Apparated off.
-
"Absolutely no way." Draco Malfoy crossed his arms and glared resolutely at the Gryffindor-red woolly jumper.
Harry sighed, and explained for the third time. "I'm taking you to a muggle district. So you have to wear muggle clothes to go there. It's also quite brisk, so a jumper will keep you warm." He grinned wickedly. "If you wear robes, you'll look like a cross-dresser. If that's fine with you-" The jumper was snatched out of his hands, and scrutinised slowly. He had, at least, had the sense not to bring his one with a Gryffindor lion on the front of it to try and persuade the other boy with. Harry hid his grin and wordlessly held out a t-shirt and a pair of jeans too. Draco stared. "Well, you can't go walking around muggle London in just a jumper," he pointed out sensibly, gesturing at what he was wearing: a button-down white shirt with a green pin-stripe (Mrs Weasley had given it to him, and, as many of the clothes she gave him did, it matched his eyes) and a pair of jeans almost identical to the pair he offered to Draco.
With a glare, the blond looked critically at Harry's jeans. "Turn around," he demanded, tugging at them, seeing how he'd put them on, and how they'd fit and such.
"Malfoy. Stop groping my arse ad just put the clothes on." Draco scowled again, and wandered into the bathroom to sulkily comply. When he meandered out again, the boy stared down at himself. "Are these designed to frame me like this?" he wondered. Harry gave him a very odd look, and squawked in laughter. Apparently, Draco didn't know how to do zips up, and he also went commando under his wizarding robes. "It's not funny, Potter," he huffed, as the other boy crossed the room to tuck him in and zip him up. "Watch what you're handling, Potter!" It was Malfoy's turn to squawk, and he shivered at Harry's low chuckle from behind his ear. "It chafes my arse," the blond grumped, walking experimentally and looking like he had had a stick stuck up his backside. "I can't walk like this!"
"I'm sure your arse is fine," Harry snorted, reaffirming where they were going on a map of London.
Malfoy looked highly offended. "My arse is damn fine!" he snapped.
With a smirk, Harry grabbed his wrist. "Then let's go, Malfoy." He Apparated them both before Draco could realise that he'd been tricked.
Walking down Oxford Road with a dozen discreetly enchanted bags so that they were feather-light, Draco grinned and yelled over the crowd, "I love shopping!" He was, apparently, fascinated by the large range of styles muggle clothing could offer, and was spending Harry's money on the most flamboyant of things. Harry, on the other hand, was looking vaguely dazed at the amount of money he had already spent without even having bought lunch yet.
A grandmother with two children smiled sweetly at them. "New couple?" She winked, knowingly at Harry. "You hold on to that one; he's very handsome." Harry replied politely with an affirmative, as she toddled away.
A scandalised look of alarm shot across Draco's face. "What?" he spluttered, "Couple? Did she just insinuate- Couple?!" It was with great difficulty that Harry didn't just burst out laughing. "And you just accepted it, Potter!"
"She also called you handsome," Harry reminded, steering the other boy away by the elbow. "It was just easier to accept it and let her move on. "Come on, muffin," he teased, picking out something from a hat stall, "Here, have a top hat."
Draco admired his dashing reflection. "Well. I am rather handsome, aren't I?" He heard a snort from behind.
Settling himself on Snape's sofa with his many new purchases, Draco stretched himself out. "You know, Potter, you do take care of me pretty well." Harry flopped onto the sofa with all the exhaustion of a man not used to heavy shopping.
"In muggle London? I had to; you almost got yourself run over twice! Didn't I tell you to watch for the green man?" Harry undid his top shirt button and tugged at his shirt. "I should hope you're happy, I don't think I spend that much money in a month." Draco flapped his hand as though Harry's words were insignificant. His blond head suddenly slid down and settled firmly on Harry's shoulder, snuggling right in. The boy gaped at this, then realised that Malfoy was asleep, sodding tired git that he was.
Harry looked up, several hours later, to see his old Professor. "Don't look at me, Sir," he drawled, amused, "He's the one who fell asleep on me." Snape raised his eyebrows slightly, then brushed past.
"Kindly refrain from fornicating on my furniture, if you can."
Harry stared after him; did everyone think that they were a couple?!
-
Once again, Draco Malfoy was looking disgruntled at Harry Potter's latest idea. "I can't go nightclubbing, Potter! I'll get kicked out, or there'll be a massive space around me, which is really embarrassing! Everyone will think that I'm there to hex them into oblivion! Why do they think that Death Eaters don't go clubbing anyway? Death Eaters go clubbing!" He ended on a defensive tone, and crossed his arms with a pout.
Harry looked rather dazed at the idea of Death Eaters dancing away to Wizarding rock and shaking their asses, and- never mind. He shook his head. "Malfoy, that's why you're going with me. Chances are, we'll be mobbed."
Sniff. "People will think we're... dating again," Malfoy shivered. Harry laughed, then laughed some more at the dirty look he was given. "I don't get why you're so... so accepting of this. Stop laughing!" He demanded sulkily.
"Everyone already thinks we're dating," Harry shrugged. At the questioning look, Harry expanded, "A fortnight ago, Snape told me not to have sex with you on his sofa, and Hermione asked me last week when you were moving in with me, because I might like to actually tidy up before you did so," he finished with a grin at the look of pure outrage etched across those sculptured Malfoy features.
"Anyway," he rifled through Draco's wardrobe for some casual clothes, and flung them at the blond, "why would I have anything to complain about if people thought I was dating you?" He appealed to the other boy's vain side; Draco nodded and grudgingly admitted that he had a point. "Isn't being 'The-Boy-Who-Lived's boyfriend' better than 'sleazy, dirty Death Eater' anyway?" Draco scowled, and aimed a punch at his arm.
The nightclub was packed, and Harry hauled Draco through by the hand. Potter's hand was large, and enveloping, and warm. "Ginny!" Harry waved at the girl behind the counter, and pulled them both through. Apparently, this was the new club that Ginny Weasley had recently opened along with Luna Lovegood; it looked quite successful from the amount of people enjoying themselves here.
"Hi Harry! How are you? You're a friend, so you get free drinks, of course," she exchanged firm hugs with him, and swatted his hand away from his purse quickly. She added with a small giggle, "He can too, since he's with you." Draco opened his mouth to say something about that 'with you', but Potter stuck a finger over his lips. It felt strangely intimate.
Carrying their drinks away with Draco in tow, Harry yelled over the noise, "Don't complain Malfoy. I just got you a night of free drinks!" Draco scowled. Did everyone seriously think that they were a couple? He was just Potter's current charity case. That was it. They were on friendly terms now that there wasn't much to be rivals over, but they were certainly not... lovey-dovey material. "Come along, muffin!" Harry teased, dragging him to the dancefloor. Draco made a face, and slapped him on the arse.
It was good, actually. The club was a modern, spacious design, the music good, the atmosphere good, and if Draco didn't look too hard, he didn't notice too many dark looks being shot his way. Potter, surprisingly, danced like he was a natural part of the mass of bodies. Draco guessed that he came he often. His moving shoulders, his swaying hips and his wide grin focused on just Draco enticed the blond to start moving into it too. He slowly relaxed, without much help from alcohol at all, and started to grin back.
There was a tap of his shoulder, and Draco looked backwards to see a girl he vaguely recognised as being a few years younger than him in Hogwarts. Her invitation to dance was interrupted by an arm slung across Draco's waist. "He's with me," conveyed Harry Potter loudly over the music, managing to look both apologetic and menacing at the same time. As if to emphasise his point, Harry wheeled Draco around, and planted a firm kiss across Draco's mouth, a tender yet demanding warmth pushing on him. Draco gasped.
"Potter!" Somehow, the girl didn't matter anymore.
Harry gave him an odd look, almost amused. "It was just a kiss, you know." Somehow, they had reached the edge of the dancefloor; Harry trapped the blond against the wall; Draco's eyes flickered nervously around. When Harry's lips descended onto his again, Draco froze for a moment, then slowly tilted his head for a better angle. His hands, dangling uselessly, clutched at the side of Potter's robes. He felt one of the other boy's arms, a warm weight, between him and the wall, looping around his waist. The other hand curved over Draco's cheek. The music was just as loud as ever, but Draco could suddenly hear wet, sucking sounds between them. When they pulled apart, Draco spotted the smile on Harry's face. He was startled to feel the same smile spread across his too.
Harry didn't let go of Draco, and neither did Draco release Harry's robes. "What does this mean?" asked Draco, communicating mostly through mouthing, looking up that inch or so into Harry's eyes.
The boy gave a shrug, which could have meant anything, or possibly nothing at all. "Whatever you want, Malfoy." The words were a sweet warmth on his ear. "Let's get out of here." The boys hurried their way outside, neither quite letting go of the other.
When they arrived back at Spinner's End, Harry collapsed onto the sofa, and pulled Draco towards him. "You're not eager at all, are you?" Draco commented dryly, letting Harry push him back into the sofa. Harry licked across Draco's lips, and the other boy obediently opened his mouth. Potter's tongue was lithe, and tasted slightly of the little alcohol they had had.
Draco lost track of time. He and Potter kissed, the kissed again. They pulled away, only to press together again. They rubbed their tongues against each other's, massaging, Potter with his arms around Draco's slim waist, Draco with his around Potter's neck, hands twisted into black tufts of hair. Their legs were entwined, and chests pushing against each other. Draco made small, pleasured sounds, breathless, and noticed Harry's own small, pleasured sounds, which were similar to his, but in a way, so distinctly Harry. He started to lift a leg to hook over Harry's hip, and-
"BOYS." The lamp lit sharply, revealing the livid owner of the house in the doorway. The two shot apart like startled deer, to opposite ends of the sofa, hastily pulling their robes straight, which had somehow hitched up to almost their waists. Both of them flushed deeply, as Snape glared ferociously at them, averting their eyes. Snape looked very much like he would like to issue them both with detention for a month, scrubbing clean the image he had just seen from his eyeballs and memory. He turned. "Do try to be a little more discreet," he growled.
As the man disappeared into the kitchen, Harry whispered, "I'd better go. I'll be seeing you." Draco seemed about to protest, then nodded quickly in agreement. Harry pressed a hasty farewell kiss to Draco's smooth cheek before hurriedly departing. Draco darted into his room behind the bookcase before Severus could come out and question him about his budding relationship with a certain Mr Potter. Snape, in the kitchen, suddenly found himself rather thoroughly put off his previously wanted mug of hot chocolate.
-
"Adventure is for Gryffindors," declared Draco, warmly tucked under a cosy blanket and with one of Harry Potter's arms slung casually around him. "We Slytherins are perfectly content to stay at home, and foil other people's adventures instead."
Harry snorted. "Not that you ever succeeded," he retaliated, squeezing the blond. Snape wandered into the room, glanced at the two of them, and rolled his eyes. He pointedly walked straight back out again after tossing Draco's owl mail at him, despite repeated assurances that they would not fornicate over his furniture. "Come on, Malfoy! Adventure is fun! Besides, I have two weeks off, and you don't work, so that's not a problem, and I'm paying, so what's wrong?" Pale hands clutched at the blanket. Draco shifted uncomfortably, and Harry stopped it. "What? I'll never get you to function properly if you won't do stuff with me," he joked.
Draco threw up his hands. "I've never been on... on a holiday with someone I'm not related to in some way, Severus excluded because he's an old family friend." Harry blinked at him. "We... are almost friends, rumoured to be dating, school rivals and far too many other things for me to even give a name to this relationship we possess. I mean... would we share a room? A bed? What? Sleep completely separately and then act up to the gay couple image in public? What?" Harry blinked at him again.
Shifting the blanket a little, Harry patted the other boy reassuringly. "Whatever you're comfortable with, Malfoy. I slept in a cupboard for the better part of twelve years; I won't have a problem with any sleeping arrangements that you might come up with." Draco smiled a little. Harry gave him a kiss on the base of his neck.
The blond sighed. "Fine. I'll go with you. You have to show me what this... skiing business is though. Because I'm not quite understanding what you mean by this whole... travelling down the snow thing. What's the point of it?"
The other boy chuckled secretively. "You are going to hate me," he murmured softly.
Draco stared at the pulleys carrying people up the mountain, and struggled along in his skis. He was feeling rather bulky and awkward at the moment. Harry had sniggered when he had first seen how much clothing Draco had put on, and shook his head, but Draco had insisted. He didn't like the cold much. He also didn't trust the pulleys very much. They looked rather flimsy. He was quite glad that they were wizards, and therefore could Apparate up the mountain easily.
For the past few days, Harry had been teaching the other boy how to ski. He wasn't particularly amazing at it himself, but they had been on a practice slope. This was Draco's first venture up the mountainside. "Well?!" demanded Harry from behind him. Draco wiggled his goggles over his eyes apprehensively, and Harry suddenly reached out and gave him a light shove. The blond shrieked. He shrieked all the way down. He skied pretty well though. No falling over, no crossing of skies. He was just rather loud about it, and flailed a fair bit too. Harry choked with laughter.
When he reached the bottom, with a little awkwardness, Harry pulled off his goggles and was promptly whacked over the head with a ski. "Ow! Malfoy! What was that for? You were fine!" The blond glowered at him.
"You pushed me!" He accused. Harry looked at him as though he were stating the obvious. "It was..." His words trailed off, and a fine blush appeared across his pale skin.
Harry grinned as he rubbed his head with a thickly gloved hand. "Scary? OW!" Draco had whacked him over the head with his left ski again, looking rather frazzled, and grumpy. "Sorry. Forgot that you can't admit that you're scared," he mocked. Waddling over and reaching out, Harry pulled Draco into a one-armed hug. "Poor Draco," he chuckled, giving Draco a kiss.
"Mm, do that again." The other boy pulled Harry back in for another one. "Your lips are warm. And I'm cold." He snuffled. "But I guess I was pretty good coming down. Let's do it again!" he enthused. Harry shook his head, bemused. He also wondered how anyone could be cold with the number of layers Draco had on.
Upon their return to their room, Draco sniffed at the two separate single beds, and Summoned them together with a casual flick of his wand before wandering towards the bathroom. Harry raised an eyebrow at their apparent new sleeping arrangement, and shrugged. If Draco felt like it, then he didn't mind. He was very fond of the other boy now, having put up with all sorts of temper tantrums. Most of them were his fault, of course, but he knew how to adjust to Draco's moods now. In fact...
"...What are you doing in my bath?" The blond stared at his companion, who was happily lowering himself into the steaming bathtub, then hurriedly averted his eyes. "...You're naked." Harry almost laughed at the completely dumbfounded, embarrassed expression before him.
The boy wrenched his face muscles straight. "Yes, Draco. I'm naked. Good observation. I don't normally wear clothes in the bath. They usually get wet if I do." The blond threw the rubber duck at him childishly, missing because he still wasn't looking at Harry. " It's not your bath; we're sharing it, and I wanted a bath. It's a big tub, Draco, it can easily fit the two of us." Harry submerged his body in the opposite end, facing Draco. Draco stared at him. Harry stared back patiently.
When Draco's resolve cracked, Harry saw it immediately in his eyes. "Fine," the blond grumbled. "I'll let you invade my private space. Come over here." Harry rolled his eyes; his blond was so spoiled! Not that he did anything about it, of course; Harry spoiled Draco rotten. He rippled through the water, and sat the blond into his lap, curving his arms around Draco's slender waist. "Keep your hands to yourself," Draco muttered as he snuggled his head back on Harry's shoulder.
Harry obeyed, not wanting to spoil the mood. "Mm, Malfoy?" he murmured into the foamy back of the boy's head, "Want to date the wondrous Harry Potter?" He tried to stay relaxed, knowing that Draco would feel it if he tensed up. He also knew that he didn't quite manage it, since the blond suddenly went very still on his lap.
Then the body on him relaxed, and Draco moved his hands idly through the water, watching the movement. "Only if he's very wondrous," he said in mock-seriousness. "Like if he'll give me kisses and hugs and other carnal favours whenever I want. And if he pays for our dates. And if he washes me down nicely." Draco turned his head, and Harry caught the glimpse of a sweet smile before if changed to a grin, and then a half-open mouth, as if waiting for a kiss.
"You are so spoiled," Harry looked sternly down. He kissed Draco anyway, and fished around in the surrounding water for a sponge. Draco turned his body, turned so that his arms latched around Harry's neck, and closed his eyes to enjoy the sensation of a soft sponge rubbing across him, and then firm fingers massaging his scalp, lathering the sweet shampoo, and then pushing him backwards, then catching him, to gently rinse his hair out.
Harry watched the blond hair floating in the slowly cooling water for a moment, until Draco opened his eyes, and then he watched Draco's face, the small smile lifting the corners of his lips, the lightness in his usually closed eyes, the muscles smoothing out as he relaxed. He lifted them both out of the tub smoothly and carefully, and dried Draco off with the fluffy towel like he was a small child; the whiteness of the towel seemed to accentuate his paleness, almost making him glow.
"By the way." They leaned on their joined beds, sprawled out boyishly with no regard for decorum. "What were those people to our left doing today?" Draco stared up at the ceiling, twisting his fingers through his still-damp hair.
Squinting his eyes, Harry tried to remember what had happened to their left. He hadn't been focused on anything much except Draco. "Oh! Snowboarding. It's like skiing, but... you only have one, and both feet are attached to it. So it's a bit harder, because if you fall, your feet are stuck together."
"Snowboarding..." Something about Draco's tone made Harry turn his head to face him. "I'd like to try that tomorrow." Draco closed his eyes and turned onto his side to sleep. The other boy laughed softly to himself; it appeared that Draco had already forgotten his severe fright from earlier today. He settled down to sleep too, waving his wand at the lights, which clicked off. In the dark, a couple of cool hands wormed across the bed to curl over his. Harry squeezed Draco's hands.
"Did I say I'd like to try this?" Draco stared down at his feet, which were being strapped to the snowboard by Harry, who was using the opportunity to hide his grin. He shook his head. "Never mind; don't answer that. How am I supposed to move?" Harry, who already had one on, demonstrated, with much hip-wiggling and shuffling. Draco stared. "I don't want to look like a waddling pregnant woman!"
Harry snorted. "It was your idea. I've never done this before, so... you can go first." He beamed at Draco, who scowled back. Harry kissed him. "C'mon," he whispered.
Draco scowled some more. "That's cheating!" He protested. He did let Harry kiss him a few more times though, before sighing deeply, and waddling towards the edge of the slope. He stared down. "Right. I'm not scared." He ignored Harry's snicker, and tipped himself towards. "WHOO!" Harry watched his boyfriend go sailing smoothly down the slope, graceful and sleek, beautiful and powerful, and-
"Ow," Harry commented, as Draco leaned too far in one direction and tumbled down the rest of the slope, landing in a messy pile; thankfully, it wasn't too far. Harry immediately slid down cautiously, not wanting to do the same thing. He didn't care if he didn't look anywhere near as graceful as Draco. "Draco!" Blond hair shook, and a highly disgruntled pout emerged from face down in the snow. Harry undid one foot, and pulled Draco back up. "Oof! Are you okay?"
"Meh." The blond scowled; he was apparently doing much scowling on this trip. "I'm fine!" he declared, cheeks pink. "In fact, I'm going to go up there and do that again, because that was absolutely fine!" Harry eyed him exasperatedly. "I'm going to show you how fine I am!" Draco insisted, though not rejecting the cuddle Harry offered.
"That's the spirit, Malfoy!" Harry grinned, and ruffled Draco's hair. "See? Adventurous already." The use of their surnames wasn't so much distant anymore, but simply familiarity; calling each other by their surnames held a history of seven plus years.
Draco gaped at him. "You are a bad influence on me, you Gryffindor!" he accused.
Hauling a very tired Draco Malfoy into bed, Harry felt the other boy curl up around him, and looked down amusedly, letting Draco clutch him. "Mm, Malfoy?" The blond head absently kissed him on the chest.
"You're going to ask an important question, aren't you? You always start like that when it's an important question," the sleepy boy giggled a little. Harry considered it. Maybe he did. He'd first asked Draco to come out with him like that; he'd asked Draco out like that, and now... he was hoping.
"Yeah." Harry smoothed the blond hair nervously. He liked touching Draco's hair; it was silky and fine, unlike his tangle. "I'd like to sleep like this with you." A pause. "Erm... after we return to England, too." Not meeting any startled or disapproving noises yet, Harry ploughed on. "And... I don't Snape would like us in his house very much. So. Would you... like to move in with me?" Another pause.
Draco tipped his head up to look at his boyfriend consideringly. "If you tidy up first." He nuzzled his head back down casually. "And only if you have a big bed for the two of us."
Harry grinned, and squeezed Draco in a happy hug. The blond made small muffled noises of protest at being strangled in this way. "Oops. Sorry." He couldn't stop the grin though.
-
"This is like the skiing thing, isn't it, Potter?" Draco asked suspiciously. His boyfriend denied it fervently. Draco eyed him, a fluffy mass of blond hair and full, pouty lips peering at Harry over their recently acquired thick duvet; Harry's hadn't been comfortable enough for Draco.
"Seriously, Draco. This is the last thing I had planned for us for Hermione's plan." Harry drew Draco into his arms, and kissed him wetly. "And..." he paused hesitantly, wondering if it was too soon. "I recently thought of something extra. I want it to be our first time. I was our first time to be special." Draco looked puzzled, as if he didn't quite connect the two events. As Harry whispered his nefarious plan into Draco's pale ear whilst tracing his hip with one finger nervously, the blond felt both strangely aroused, and very disturbed at Harry's state of mind.
There was no rationality behind the idea, and Draco knew that he should say 'no'. Heck, he should really say 'HELL no', but... it did sound very exciting. Maybe he should be worried about his own state of mind. The only bit missing to Harry's plan was a bridge, or something that resembled one. "At Hogwarts," Draco replied finally, "Before the kids start their term." A slow grin spread over Harry's face.
Standing on top of one of the bridge corridors which connected the many parts of Hogwarts together, Draco looked down. "I really hate heights," he licked his dry lips. Harry gave him a surprised look, momentarily looking up from the equipment that he was checking. "Quidditch is different," Draco continued, "I have an enchanted broom, and as long as I have but a few brain cells telling me to hold on, I can't fall. Are you sure that's safe?" the blond asked for the eighth time that day.
"Yes, Draco." Harry was patient. "I measured it all out twice, and we are going to be fine. You still want to do this?" He held out the harness worriedly. He didn't want to force Draco into this, after all. Draco swallowed, and took the contraption. Harry swiftly stripped off his clothes, feeling the brisk wind whip across his skin. The blond's breath hitched, and he stared. His gaze travelled from the jutting collarbones across the chest, taking in the dark nipples and the light brush of hair. Down the flat stomach, not muscled but not weak either, to the next brush of dark hair, and his boyfriend's magnificence, half nestled against his thigh. He could feel himself going hard.
Draco barely felt Harry slowly draw him close, and only shook his head impatiently when Harry removing his robe obscured his view. When they were both perfectly nude, Harry pulled Draco flat against his body, and Draco revelled in the feeling of skin against skin, nothing between them, not even water and foam, like last time. Harry kissed Draco continuously as he carefully strapped Draco into the harness, leaving the blond whining disappointedly when he was turned around so that Harry could work at his back.
"Draco," Harry's voice was a gentle warning, and he tried to relax and closed his eyes. He liked closing his eyes to really focus on touch, sensation, when it mattered. He felt Harry's fingers, slick with lubricant, creeping between his buttocks, felt the arm wrapped solidly around him to keep him stable, felt the light touch of Harry's erect member against him as Harry gently worked him open, then comfortable.
The thought of having sex on a Hogwarts rooftop was suddenly less alarming when he couldn't think of anything but that. The fingers withdrew, and Draco arched his back slightly as he felt Harry being careful behind him, being slow, and so patient, and so good. His head lolled on Harry's shoulder as Harry pulled him as close as he could get. Whilst Harry was busy strapping himself to Draco, Draco could only think of the slight burn stretching him, the amazing feeling of Harry just being inside.
"Draco," Harry's voice was a gentle warning again, and Draco shivered at any slight movement the other boy did. "Tell me you're ready." His voice shook slightly, and Draco could tell that he was nervous, that he was apprehensive, hoping that everything would pull off perfectly. Draco nodded wordlessly, keeping his eyes closed. He trusted Harry.
Draco screamed. His eyes flew open, as rows upon rows of bricks, slate, building flashed before his eyes as they hurtled downwards together. Heights, falling, bad, bad, BAD! Harry's arm around him was tight, and his hands were clutching so tightly at the other boy that there would be crescent half-moon marks before they were done. Suddenly, the ground appeared in Draco's peripheral vision. We're going to die! The thought managed to form in his mind before there was a stomach wrenching feeling, and the blond suddenly emitted a loud, guttural scream.
The bungee stretched to its limit, and then paused for almost a split second before taking the boys up again. In that moment, Draco felt Harry grind inside, hit just there, and he almost forgot the falling sensation, and just remembered that Harry was inside him. Then his head was confused, and yet not at all, filled to its capacity to think several things at the same time.
Draco continued screaming. His scream changed, periodically, to lusty, fearful, and animal noises, as his mind became a whirlwind of Harry behind him, the wind whipping through his hair, the friction between them, rubbing him so well, his stomach lurching as they dropped, and rose, and changed directions, the amazing feeling of Harry's hand moving over him, giving him all and any satisfaction he needed, the blood rushing to his head, heightening all his senses, the pain which jerked inside him each time they hit the bottom and Harry pounded in that bit deeper and ground over that spot, the utter lack of rhythm Harry had for not being able to concentrate on so many things at the same time, the fear that he was going to hit the ground over and over, Harry's own fear and lusty noises being ripped from his throat right beside him. It was amazing.
Detachedly, Draco felt his body spasm as he came in Harry's hand, and watched a trail of liquid fall upwards in front of his upside-down eyes, and then felt Harry buckle behind him, since he had clenched, which in turn made his own hips buckle, and he whimpered.
"Draco," The urgency of Harry's voice so close to him made him focus on what Harry was saying. "Draco, Draco, you're making me-" he never finished the sentence, and it was only when Draco felt warm liquid bursting into him that he realised what he was making Harry do, and arched his back, spasming uncontrollably, gasping.
Eventually, they stopped bouncing up and down, and Draco pressed his hand to his head, completely drained. Harry slowly unbuckled them and they collapsed to the floor together, rolling in the cool grass. There was a wet sound as Harry pulled himself out of Draco, then flopped onto his back, fishing to his right for the clothes they had left here beforehand. Flinging a cloak over both their naked forms for the moment, Harry panted, "Wow, Draco. Wow."
With far too much effort, they wriggled together, and Draco looked up at his newly-become lover with half-glazed eyes. "That was amazing," he whispered hazily. Harry smiled, basking in the afterglow. "It was just... bloody hell. The best first time I could have hoped for. That's one to tell your grandchildren; not that I'm going to have grandchildren. 'My first sexual experience was gay bungee-jumping sex off a roof of Hogwarts. Beat that, sonny'." He grinned, a fully relaxed, completely open and happy expression. Harry leaned forward and kissed him on the nose.
"Someone's going to come along and see us, you know," Harry murmured, entwining their legs. Draco mewled softly and curled himself into Harry's embrace. "You don't care, do you?" Harry glanced down at his gorgeous boyfriend. Apparently not. "Okay. Let's stay here." He settled his head more comfortably on the grass.
Pairing: HP/DM
Word count: 7,154
Rating: NC-17
Notes: This was written for megyal. I was pinch-hitting for hds-beltane, which turned out awesomely. =D
Summary: Harry, upon Hermione's prompting, tries to make Malfoy 'function as a normal member of society' again. Apparently, the best way to do this is to be seen around with Harry Potter, who couldn't possibly be consorting with Dark Wizards, therefore leading to the conclusion that Draco, of course, is not a Dark Wizard.
Snape frowned at the boy curled up on his sofa, looking disarmingly innocent and completely drunk. One hand still had several relaxed fingers loosely around the neck of a large bottle of Firewhisky. Snape didn't even know that Firewhisky came in bottles that big. He tapped Draco on the shoulder, and watched the slumped figure roll over onto his other side and blithely ignore him. "Draco," he started warningly. "Don't ignore me." Draco, wonderfully contrary, ignored him.
Snape cleared his throat in preparation for his Professor-style bark, guaranteed to make the blond boy fall off the sofa. "Draco," he snapped, enunciating clearly and sharply. The boy bolted upright in reaction to the cold tone, and stared, wide-eyed, at Snape, as though expecting to be issued a detention. Then he groaned, and turned away, rubbing his temples. Hangover, Snape guessed.
"You really didn't have to..." muttered Draco semi-coherently, before the older man gave him a thwap around the head. "OW!"
"Just because I can brew this does not mean that you can just imbibe alcohol whenever you so wish, Draco," Snape handed over a small vial of painkiller, which Draco sleepily downed, with a nod for thanks. "You're welcome," Snape muttered dryly. "Now. Are you going to mope about all day or actually go and find some work? You owe me money for the ridiculous amount of hot water you use each day."
The blond boy was lazily lobbing his empty Firewhiskey bottle into the bin, and chuckled, "Was that a rhetorical question, Severus? Mope about, of course. What work can I find? I might be an acquitted Death Eater due to extenuating circumstances, but that doesn't stop people from thinking that I'm a Death Eater." The boy wandered into the bathroom to clean himself up, squinting critically at his hair, which resembled the bottom of a mop.
Tuts were heard from Snape. "That's because you were a Death Eater, Draco. Besides: so was I, and I still have work." Snape's answer was annoyingly valid. Draco scowled.
"You're also acknowledged as pretty much the best potions master in the country," Draco managed through a mouthful of toothpaste foam, "Of course you'll still have desperate witches asking for... breast enhancers and... other beauty potions." Through the mirror on the wall, Draco could see his former Professor's face of disgust.
Snape continued, "Anyway, he had the foresight to owl me again, with a list of dates he's free and plans to take you off my hands. Kindly find a job, and soon, so that you have money to move out, and then I won't be forced to extend my hospitality to him so often."
Draco snorted. "It's not like I ask him to. I'm just his current charity case. He'll go away once someone more needy turns up."
Snape snickered quietly as Draco pushed past. "Did you just call yourself 'needy', Draco?" The blond sniffed, and declined from answering.
-
When Harry Potter appeared promptly at seven in the fireplace of Snape's living room, Draco was lounging on the sofa against, reading Chaucer and idly finishing off an apple. "Come on, Malfoy. I gave you plenty of notice that I was coming." Draco gave him a flat look. "If you're not ready in two minutes, I'm going to drag you out as you are," Harry continued with a slightly mocking grin. By the way Draco stood gracefully and just slipped his socked feet into his shoes, he had apparently been prepared to go out despite the antagonistic feeling. Huh.
"What is this place, Potter?" The blond eyed the open kitchen suspiciously as they Flooed to the entrance of a Chinese restaurant. "And why have you brought me to the... the land of barbarians?" Several tables of Chinese people turned around to glare at Draco at that insult as they reached a small table with a fire set into the middle, and a cooking pot set on top. Malfoy made a retching noise at the plates of raw food placed around the fire. "Potter! This isn't hygienic! You don't expect me to eat this, do you? I'll get food poisoning!"
Harry rolled his eyes, ignored the boy's protests and nudged him into a chair. "This is a restaurant for Chinese hotpot. I did it with Cho a couple of months back at her place. The blue ringed chopsticks are for cooked food, and the red ringed ones are for raw, so you're not going to get food poisoning." He grinned, rubbed his hands, and dumped copious amounts of various coloured sauces into the boiling pot, along with slices of pre-seasoned raw beef. Draco watched with morbid interest. "It's actually healthier to cook food like this, because you're only boiling it, no oil or anything, and you can control how well-done you want your food."
The boy noticed his companion's half-scared, curious look, and snorted. "Have you never seen raw food before, Malfoy? Have the house-elf and servants prepare it all, do you?" A glare from Draco made Harry both laugh, and realise that, indeed, Malfoy had never seen raw food before. To him, it looked like thinner slices of meat like those they used in Care of Magical Creatures to feed the carnivores, layered with grainy pepper, salt, and the occasional bit of cornflour showing. Was this what his food really looked like before it was cooked? How disgusting.
Harry patiently pointed out each dish and explained how the colour revealed the type of meat it was, before deftly using chopsticks to scoop up the now-done beef and letting it cool before shoving it at Malfoy, who had the option of eating it, or having it dropped down his robes. He ate it as though he expected to die. Watching Malfoy amusedly, Harry grinned when the other boy expressed approval. "Not bad," he commented. "Tender, too." He eyed the pot of boiling water. Was that all there was to it? Didn't seem too hard. Harry started to shovel a lot more food into the boiling pot. "So tell me, Potter," Draco watched bits of food change colour, fascinated, "When did you learn to hold chopsticks so well?" Harry glanced at his right hand in surprise, as though he hadn't noticed the absence of a fork at all, and that his hand had just miraculously learnt by itself.
"When I did this hotpot thing with Cho; her parents don't own any forks, apparently, so it was either learn, drop food down myself, or not eat. Besides, they were very eager to teach me." Harry shrugged, and popped some tofu into his mouth.
Draco sniggered- probably at the mental image of Potter going through the chopstick learning curve and dropping many hot items of food down his front. "So you and Chang are getting it back on then?" He wiggled his pale eyebrows, now getting into this hotpot business. "Is that why you're spending a Friday night with me then?" The boy glowered at his chopsticks, as though that would improve his ability to hold them, aaaaand... Transfigured them into a fork.
"Malfoy! That's cheating!" Harry turned them right back, and snatched Draco's wand away. "Go on, try something new once in a while!" A pouty, sullen look settled over Draco, as he grumpily stared at the chopsticks. "Like this," Harry prompted, adjusting the other boy's fingers. "And while we're at it, no. I'm not 'getting it back on' with Cho. It was her birthday, and twenty-three other people were there too. I'm with you on a Friday night because-"
"Because you feel sorry for me?"
A scathing look was shot towards Draco. "Because if you're seen around me often, people will stop thinking that you're a shady character, and eventually you'll be able to function as a normal member of society again." Absently, Harry readjusted Draco's chopsticks again. "Like that. Only the top one moves."
Snort. "This is Granger's idea, isn't it? Sounds like the sort of thing she'd say. 'Normal member of society', eh?"
Harry flushed slightly. "Yeah, it was Hermione's idea. But I was the one who agreed to it and carried it through." He recovered. "Anyway, next time, I'm taking you shopping." Draco gave him an incredulous look, as if to wonder why he was the one being taken shopping when he blatantly had the better fashion sense of the two of them. Harry ignored him. "So be ready by ten. I'll pick you up from Snape's place again."
"At least Severus will be glad you're keeping me out of his hair," muttered Draco, finishing up the last of the awkward fishballs, solving the problem of how to pick up a spherical object with chopsticks by viciously stabbing it with one. "There, that worked," he said, happily stuffing the thing into his mouth. "Not bad at all, Potter," he glanced around at the plates they had emptied. "Didn't taste like fish though," he commented on the fishball, which was rather like a gobstopper. He could feel the heat through his teeth, and it had rather a rough texture, but Draco found he had rather liked it anyway.
Harry polished off the last scrap of beef, and chuckled, "I don't think I can imagine Snape being glad of anything I do, and please don't give me images of you in Snape's hair..." A chopstick flew towards Harry, who ducked it effortlessly, and he snickered at the appalled look on the blond's face. "I should take you to a barbeque sometime," he added, suddenly thinking of it.
"...Barbeeee-whatting? Are you planning to take up every weekend of mine until I function normally in society again?" Draco glowered half-heartedly. He didn't mind so very much as long as Potter picked up the bill, and as long as the food was as good as this time.
"Yep. Remember, ten." Harry picked up the bill and dis-Apparated off.
-
"Absolutely no way." Draco Malfoy crossed his arms and glared resolutely at the Gryffindor-red woolly jumper.
Harry sighed, and explained for the third time. "I'm taking you to a muggle district. So you have to wear muggle clothes to go there. It's also quite brisk, so a jumper will keep you warm." He grinned wickedly. "If you wear robes, you'll look like a cross-dresser. If that's fine with you-" The jumper was snatched out of his hands, and scrutinised slowly. He had, at least, had the sense not to bring his one with a Gryffindor lion on the front of it to try and persuade the other boy with. Harry hid his grin and wordlessly held out a t-shirt and a pair of jeans too. Draco stared. "Well, you can't go walking around muggle London in just a jumper," he pointed out sensibly, gesturing at what he was wearing: a button-down white shirt with a green pin-stripe (Mrs Weasley had given it to him, and, as many of the clothes she gave him did, it matched his eyes) and a pair of jeans almost identical to the pair he offered to Draco.
With a glare, the blond looked critically at Harry's jeans. "Turn around," he demanded, tugging at them, seeing how he'd put them on, and how they'd fit and such.
"Malfoy. Stop groping my arse ad just put the clothes on." Draco scowled again, and wandered into the bathroom to sulkily comply. When he meandered out again, the boy stared down at himself. "Are these designed to frame me like this?" he wondered. Harry gave him a very odd look, and squawked in laughter. Apparently, Draco didn't know how to do zips up, and he also went commando under his wizarding robes. "It's not funny, Potter," he huffed, as the other boy crossed the room to tuck him in and zip him up. "Watch what you're handling, Potter!" It was Malfoy's turn to squawk, and he shivered at Harry's low chuckle from behind his ear. "It chafes my arse," the blond grumped, walking experimentally and looking like he had had a stick stuck up his backside. "I can't walk like this!"
"I'm sure your arse is fine," Harry snorted, reaffirming where they were going on a map of London.
Malfoy looked highly offended. "My arse is damn fine!" he snapped.
With a smirk, Harry grabbed his wrist. "Then let's go, Malfoy." He Apparated them both before Draco could realise that he'd been tricked.
Walking down Oxford Road with a dozen discreetly enchanted bags so that they were feather-light, Draco grinned and yelled over the crowd, "I love shopping!" He was, apparently, fascinated by the large range of styles muggle clothing could offer, and was spending Harry's money on the most flamboyant of things. Harry, on the other hand, was looking vaguely dazed at the amount of money he had already spent without even having bought lunch yet.
A grandmother with two children smiled sweetly at them. "New couple?" She winked, knowingly at Harry. "You hold on to that one; he's very handsome." Harry replied politely with an affirmative, as she toddled away.
A scandalised look of alarm shot across Draco's face. "What?" he spluttered, "Couple? Did she just insinuate- Couple?!" It was with great difficulty that Harry didn't just burst out laughing. "And you just accepted it, Potter!"
"She also called you handsome," Harry reminded, steering the other boy away by the elbow. "It was just easier to accept it and let her move on. "Come on, muffin," he teased, picking out something from a hat stall, "Here, have a top hat."
Draco admired his dashing reflection. "Well. I am rather handsome, aren't I?" He heard a snort from behind.
Settling himself on Snape's sofa with his many new purchases, Draco stretched himself out. "You know, Potter, you do take care of me pretty well." Harry flopped onto the sofa with all the exhaustion of a man not used to heavy shopping.
"In muggle London? I had to; you almost got yourself run over twice! Didn't I tell you to watch for the green man?" Harry undid his top shirt button and tugged at his shirt. "I should hope you're happy, I don't think I spend that much money in a month." Draco flapped his hand as though Harry's words were insignificant. His blond head suddenly slid down and settled firmly on Harry's shoulder, snuggling right in. The boy gaped at this, then realised that Malfoy was asleep, sodding tired git that he was.
Harry looked up, several hours later, to see his old Professor. "Don't look at me, Sir," he drawled, amused, "He's the one who fell asleep on me." Snape raised his eyebrows slightly, then brushed past.
"Kindly refrain from fornicating on my furniture, if you can."
Harry stared after him; did everyone think that they were a couple?!
-
Once again, Draco Malfoy was looking disgruntled at Harry Potter's latest idea. "I can't go nightclubbing, Potter! I'll get kicked out, or there'll be a massive space around me, which is really embarrassing! Everyone will think that I'm there to hex them into oblivion! Why do they think that Death Eaters don't go clubbing anyway? Death Eaters go clubbing!" He ended on a defensive tone, and crossed his arms with a pout.
Harry looked rather dazed at the idea of Death Eaters dancing away to Wizarding rock and shaking their asses, and- never mind. He shook his head. "Malfoy, that's why you're going with me. Chances are, we'll be mobbed."
Sniff. "People will think we're... dating again," Malfoy shivered. Harry laughed, then laughed some more at the dirty look he was given. "I don't get why you're so... so accepting of this. Stop laughing!" He demanded sulkily.
"Everyone already thinks we're dating," Harry shrugged. At the questioning look, Harry expanded, "A fortnight ago, Snape told me not to have sex with you on his sofa, and Hermione asked me last week when you were moving in with me, because I might like to actually tidy up before you did so," he finished with a grin at the look of pure outrage etched across those sculptured Malfoy features.
"Anyway," he rifled through Draco's wardrobe for some casual clothes, and flung them at the blond, "why would I have anything to complain about if people thought I was dating you?" He appealed to the other boy's vain side; Draco nodded and grudgingly admitted that he had a point. "Isn't being 'The-Boy-Who-Lived's boyfriend' better than 'sleazy, dirty Death Eater' anyway?" Draco scowled, and aimed a punch at his arm.
The nightclub was packed, and Harry hauled Draco through by the hand. Potter's hand was large, and enveloping, and warm. "Ginny!" Harry waved at the girl behind the counter, and pulled them both through. Apparently, this was the new club that Ginny Weasley had recently opened along with Luna Lovegood; it looked quite successful from the amount of people enjoying themselves here.
"Hi Harry! How are you? You're a friend, so you get free drinks, of course," she exchanged firm hugs with him, and swatted his hand away from his purse quickly. She added with a small giggle, "He can too, since he's with you." Draco opened his mouth to say something about that 'with you', but Potter stuck a finger over his lips. It felt strangely intimate.
Carrying their drinks away with Draco in tow, Harry yelled over the noise, "Don't complain Malfoy. I just got you a night of free drinks!" Draco scowled. Did everyone seriously think that they were a couple? He was just Potter's current charity case. That was it. They were on friendly terms now that there wasn't much to be rivals over, but they were certainly not... lovey-dovey material. "Come along, muffin!" Harry teased, dragging him to the dancefloor. Draco made a face, and slapped him on the arse.
It was good, actually. The club was a modern, spacious design, the music good, the atmosphere good, and if Draco didn't look too hard, he didn't notice too many dark looks being shot his way. Potter, surprisingly, danced like he was a natural part of the mass of bodies. Draco guessed that he came he often. His moving shoulders, his swaying hips and his wide grin focused on just Draco enticed the blond to start moving into it too. He slowly relaxed, without much help from alcohol at all, and started to grin back.
There was a tap of his shoulder, and Draco looked backwards to see a girl he vaguely recognised as being a few years younger than him in Hogwarts. Her invitation to dance was interrupted by an arm slung across Draco's waist. "He's with me," conveyed Harry Potter loudly over the music, managing to look both apologetic and menacing at the same time. As if to emphasise his point, Harry wheeled Draco around, and planted a firm kiss across Draco's mouth, a tender yet demanding warmth pushing on him. Draco gasped.
"Potter!" Somehow, the girl didn't matter anymore.
Harry gave him an odd look, almost amused. "It was just a kiss, you know." Somehow, they had reached the edge of the dancefloor; Harry trapped the blond against the wall; Draco's eyes flickered nervously around. When Harry's lips descended onto his again, Draco froze for a moment, then slowly tilted his head for a better angle. His hands, dangling uselessly, clutched at the side of Potter's robes. He felt one of the other boy's arms, a warm weight, between him and the wall, looping around his waist. The other hand curved over Draco's cheek. The music was just as loud as ever, but Draco could suddenly hear wet, sucking sounds between them. When they pulled apart, Draco spotted the smile on Harry's face. He was startled to feel the same smile spread across his too.
Harry didn't let go of Draco, and neither did Draco release Harry's robes. "What does this mean?" asked Draco, communicating mostly through mouthing, looking up that inch or so into Harry's eyes.
The boy gave a shrug, which could have meant anything, or possibly nothing at all. "Whatever you want, Malfoy." The words were a sweet warmth on his ear. "Let's get out of here." The boys hurried their way outside, neither quite letting go of the other.
When they arrived back at Spinner's End, Harry collapsed onto the sofa, and pulled Draco towards him. "You're not eager at all, are you?" Draco commented dryly, letting Harry push him back into the sofa. Harry licked across Draco's lips, and the other boy obediently opened his mouth. Potter's tongue was lithe, and tasted slightly of the little alcohol they had had.
Draco lost track of time. He and Potter kissed, the kissed again. They pulled away, only to press together again. They rubbed their tongues against each other's, massaging, Potter with his arms around Draco's slim waist, Draco with his around Potter's neck, hands twisted into black tufts of hair. Their legs were entwined, and chests pushing against each other. Draco made small, pleasured sounds, breathless, and noticed Harry's own small, pleasured sounds, which were similar to his, but in a way, so distinctly Harry. He started to lift a leg to hook over Harry's hip, and-
"BOYS." The lamp lit sharply, revealing the livid owner of the house in the doorway. The two shot apart like startled deer, to opposite ends of the sofa, hastily pulling their robes straight, which had somehow hitched up to almost their waists. Both of them flushed deeply, as Snape glared ferociously at them, averting their eyes. Snape looked very much like he would like to issue them both with detention for a month, scrubbing clean the image he had just seen from his eyeballs and memory. He turned. "Do try to be a little more discreet," he growled.
As the man disappeared into the kitchen, Harry whispered, "I'd better go. I'll be seeing you." Draco seemed about to protest, then nodded quickly in agreement. Harry pressed a hasty farewell kiss to Draco's smooth cheek before hurriedly departing. Draco darted into his room behind the bookcase before Severus could come out and question him about his budding relationship with a certain Mr Potter. Snape, in the kitchen, suddenly found himself rather thoroughly put off his previously wanted mug of hot chocolate.
-
"Adventure is for Gryffindors," declared Draco, warmly tucked under a cosy blanket and with one of Harry Potter's arms slung casually around him. "We Slytherins are perfectly content to stay at home, and foil other people's adventures instead."
Harry snorted. "Not that you ever succeeded," he retaliated, squeezing the blond. Snape wandered into the room, glanced at the two of them, and rolled his eyes. He pointedly walked straight back out again after tossing Draco's owl mail at him, despite repeated assurances that they would not fornicate over his furniture. "Come on, Malfoy! Adventure is fun! Besides, I have two weeks off, and you don't work, so that's not a problem, and I'm paying, so what's wrong?" Pale hands clutched at the blanket. Draco shifted uncomfortably, and Harry stopped it. "What? I'll never get you to function properly if you won't do stuff with me," he joked.
Draco threw up his hands. "I've never been on... on a holiday with someone I'm not related to in some way, Severus excluded because he's an old family friend." Harry blinked at him. "We... are almost friends, rumoured to be dating, school rivals and far too many other things for me to even give a name to this relationship we possess. I mean... would we share a room? A bed? What? Sleep completely separately and then act up to the gay couple image in public? What?" Harry blinked at him again.
Shifting the blanket a little, Harry patted the other boy reassuringly. "Whatever you're comfortable with, Malfoy. I slept in a cupboard for the better part of twelve years; I won't have a problem with any sleeping arrangements that you might come up with." Draco smiled a little. Harry gave him a kiss on the base of his neck.
The blond sighed. "Fine. I'll go with you. You have to show me what this... skiing business is though. Because I'm not quite understanding what you mean by this whole... travelling down the snow thing. What's the point of it?"
The other boy chuckled secretively. "You are going to hate me," he murmured softly.
Draco stared at the pulleys carrying people up the mountain, and struggled along in his skis. He was feeling rather bulky and awkward at the moment. Harry had sniggered when he had first seen how much clothing Draco had put on, and shook his head, but Draco had insisted. He didn't like the cold much. He also didn't trust the pulleys very much. They looked rather flimsy. He was quite glad that they were wizards, and therefore could Apparate up the mountain easily.
For the past few days, Harry had been teaching the other boy how to ski. He wasn't particularly amazing at it himself, but they had been on a practice slope. This was Draco's first venture up the mountainside. "Well?!" demanded Harry from behind him. Draco wiggled his goggles over his eyes apprehensively, and Harry suddenly reached out and gave him a light shove. The blond shrieked. He shrieked all the way down. He skied pretty well though. No falling over, no crossing of skies. He was just rather loud about it, and flailed a fair bit too. Harry choked with laughter.
When he reached the bottom, with a little awkwardness, Harry pulled off his goggles and was promptly whacked over the head with a ski. "Ow! Malfoy! What was that for? You were fine!" The blond glowered at him.
"You pushed me!" He accused. Harry looked at him as though he were stating the obvious. "It was..." His words trailed off, and a fine blush appeared across his pale skin.
Harry grinned as he rubbed his head with a thickly gloved hand. "Scary? OW!" Draco had whacked him over the head with his left ski again, looking rather frazzled, and grumpy. "Sorry. Forgot that you can't admit that you're scared," he mocked. Waddling over and reaching out, Harry pulled Draco into a one-armed hug. "Poor Draco," he chuckled, giving Draco a kiss.
"Mm, do that again." The other boy pulled Harry back in for another one. "Your lips are warm. And I'm cold." He snuffled. "But I guess I was pretty good coming down. Let's do it again!" he enthused. Harry shook his head, bemused. He also wondered how anyone could be cold with the number of layers Draco had on.
Upon their return to their room, Draco sniffed at the two separate single beds, and Summoned them together with a casual flick of his wand before wandering towards the bathroom. Harry raised an eyebrow at their apparent new sleeping arrangement, and shrugged. If Draco felt like it, then he didn't mind. He was very fond of the other boy now, having put up with all sorts of temper tantrums. Most of them were his fault, of course, but he knew how to adjust to Draco's moods now. In fact...
"...What are you doing in my bath?" The blond stared at his companion, who was happily lowering himself into the steaming bathtub, then hurriedly averted his eyes. "...You're naked." Harry almost laughed at the completely dumbfounded, embarrassed expression before him.
The boy wrenched his face muscles straight. "Yes, Draco. I'm naked. Good observation. I don't normally wear clothes in the bath. They usually get wet if I do." The blond threw the rubber duck at him childishly, missing because he still wasn't looking at Harry. " It's not your bath; we're sharing it, and I wanted a bath. It's a big tub, Draco, it can easily fit the two of us." Harry submerged his body in the opposite end, facing Draco. Draco stared at him. Harry stared back patiently.
When Draco's resolve cracked, Harry saw it immediately in his eyes. "Fine," the blond grumbled. "I'll let you invade my private space. Come over here." Harry rolled his eyes; his blond was so spoiled! Not that he did anything about it, of course; Harry spoiled Draco rotten. He rippled through the water, and sat the blond into his lap, curving his arms around Draco's slender waist. "Keep your hands to yourself," Draco muttered as he snuggled his head back on Harry's shoulder.
Harry obeyed, not wanting to spoil the mood. "Mm, Malfoy?" he murmured into the foamy back of the boy's head, "Want to date the wondrous Harry Potter?" He tried to stay relaxed, knowing that Draco would feel it if he tensed up. He also knew that he didn't quite manage it, since the blond suddenly went very still on his lap.
Then the body on him relaxed, and Draco moved his hands idly through the water, watching the movement. "Only if he's very wondrous," he said in mock-seriousness. "Like if he'll give me kisses and hugs and other carnal favours whenever I want. And if he pays for our dates. And if he washes me down nicely." Draco turned his head, and Harry caught the glimpse of a sweet smile before if changed to a grin, and then a half-open mouth, as if waiting for a kiss.
"You are so spoiled," Harry looked sternly down. He kissed Draco anyway, and fished around in the surrounding water for a sponge. Draco turned his body, turned so that his arms latched around Harry's neck, and closed his eyes to enjoy the sensation of a soft sponge rubbing across him, and then firm fingers massaging his scalp, lathering the sweet shampoo, and then pushing him backwards, then catching him, to gently rinse his hair out.
Harry watched the blond hair floating in the slowly cooling water for a moment, until Draco opened his eyes, and then he watched Draco's face, the small smile lifting the corners of his lips, the lightness in his usually closed eyes, the muscles smoothing out as he relaxed. He lifted them both out of the tub smoothly and carefully, and dried Draco off with the fluffy towel like he was a small child; the whiteness of the towel seemed to accentuate his paleness, almost making him glow.
"By the way." They leaned on their joined beds, sprawled out boyishly with no regard for decorum. "What were those people to our left doing today?" Draco stared up at the ceiling, twisting his fingers through his still-damp hair.
Squinting his eyes, Harry tried to remember what had happened to their left. He hadn't been focused on anything much except Draco. "Oh! Snowboarding. It's like skiing, but... you only have one, and both feet are attached to it. So it's a bit harder, because if you fall, your feet are stuck together."
"Snowboarding..." Something about Draco's tone made Harry turn his head to face him. "I'd like to try that tomorrow." Draco closed his eyes and turned onto his side to sleep. The other boy laughed softly to himself; it appeared that Draco had already forgotten his severe fright from earlier today. He settled down to sleep too, waving his wand at the lights, which clicked off. In the dark, a couple of cool hands wormed across the bed to curl over his. Harry squeezed Draco's hands.
"Did I say I'd like to try this?" Draco stared down at his feet, which were being strapped to the snowboard by Harry, who was using the opportunity to hide his grin. He shook his head. "Never mind; don't answer that. How am I supposed to move?" Harry, who already had one on, demonstrated, with much hip-wiggling and shuffling. Draco stared. "I don't want to look like a waddling pregnant woman!"
Harry snorted. "It was your idea. I've never done this before, so... you can go first." He beamed at Draco, who scowled back. Harry kissed him. "C'mon," he whispered.
Draco scowled some more. "That's cheating!" He protested. He did let Harry kiss him a few more times though, before sighing deeply, and waddling towards the edge of the slope. He stared down. "Right. I'm not scared." He ignored Harry's snicker, and tipped himself towards. "WHOO!" Harry watched his boyfriend go sailing smoothly down the slope, graceful and sleek, beautiful and powerful, and-
"Ow," Harry commented, as Draco leaned too far in one direction and tumbled down the rest of the slope, landing in a messy pile; thankfully, it wasn't too far. Harry immediately slid down cautiously, not wanting to do the same thing. He didn't care if he didn't look anywhere near as graceful as Draco. "Draco!" Blond hair shook, and a highly disgruntled pout emerged from face down in the snow. Harry undid one foot, and pulled Draco back up. "Oof! Are you okay?"
"Meh." The blond scowled; he was apparently doing much scowling on this trip. "I'm fine!" he declared, cheeks pink. "In fact, I'm going to go up there and do that again, because that was absolutely fine!" Harry eyed him exasperatedly. "I'm going to show you how fine I am!" Draco insisted, though not rejecting the cuddle Harry offered.
"That's the spirit, Malfoy!" Harry grinned, and ruffled Draco's hair. "See? Adventurous already." The use of their surnames wasn't so much distant anymore, but simply familiarity; calling each other by their surnames held a history of seven plus years.
Draco gaped at him. "You are a bad influence on me, you Gryffindor!" he accused.
Hauling a very tired Draco Malfoy into bed, Harry felt the other boy curl up around him, and looked down amusedly, letting Draco clutch him. "Mm, Malfoy?" The blond head absently kissed him on the chest.
"You're going to ask an important question, aren't you? You always start like that when it's an important question," the sleepy boy giggled a little. Harry considered it. Maybe he did. He'd first asked Draco to come out with him like that; he'd asked Draco out like that, and now... he was hoping.
"Yeah." Harry smoothed the blond hair nervously. He liked touching Draco's hair; it was silky and fine, unlike his tangle. "I'd like to sleep like this with you." A pause. "Erm... after we return to England, too." Not meeting any startled or disapproving noises yet, Harry ploughed on. "And... I don't Snape would like us in his house very much. So. Would you... like to move in with me?" Another pause.
Draco tipped his head up to look at his boyfriend consideringly. "If you tidy up first." He nuzzled his head back down casually. "And only if you have a big bed for the two of us."
Harry grinned, and squeezed Draco in a happy hug. The blond made small muffled noises of protest at being strangled in this way. "Oops. Sorry." He couldn't stop the grin though.
-
"This is like the skiing thing, isn't it, Potter?" Draco asked suspiciously. His boyfriend denied it fervently. Draco eyed him, a fluffy mass of blond hair and full, pouty lips peering at Harry over their recently acquired thick duvet; Harry's hadn't been comfortable enough for Draco.
"Seriously, Draco. This is the last thing I had planned for us for Hermione's plan." Harry drew Draco into his arms, and kissed him wetly. "And..." he paused hesitantly, wondering if it was too soon. "I recently thought of something extra. I want it to be our first time. I was our first time to be special." Draco looked puzzled, as if he didn't quite connect the two events. As Harry whispered his nefarious plan into Draco's pale ear whilst tracing his hip with one finger nervously, the blond felt both strangely aroused, and very disturbed at Harry's state of mind.
There was no rationality behind the idea, and Draco knew that he should say 'no'. Heck, he should really say 'HELL no', but... it did sound very exciting. Maybe he should be worried about his own state of mind. The only bit missing to Harry's plan was a bridge, or something that resembled one. "At Hogwarts," Draco replied finally, "Before the kids start their term." A slow grin spread over Harry's face.
Standing on top of one of the bridge corridors which connected the many parts of Hogwarts together, Draco looked down. "I really hate heights," he licked his dry lips. Harry gave him a surprised look, momentarily looking up from the equipment that he was checking. "Quidditch is different," Draco continued, "I have an enchanted broom, and as long as I have but a few brain cells telling me to hold on, I can't fall. Are you sure that's safe?" the blond asked for the eighth time that day.
"Yes, Draco." Harry was patient. "I measured it all out twice, and we are going to be fine. You still want to do this?" He held out the harness worriedly. He didn't want to force Draco into this, after all. Draco swallowed, and took the contraption. Harry swiftly stripped off his clothes, feeling the brisk wind whip across his skin. The blond's breath hitched, and he stared. His gaze travelled from the jutting collarbones across the chest, taking in the dark nipples and the light brush of hair. Down the flat stomach, not muscled but not weak either, to the next brush of dark hair, and his boyfriend's magnificence, half nestled against his thigh. He could feel himself going hard.
Draco barely felt Harry slowly draw him close, and only shook his head impatiently when Harry removing his robe obscured his view. When they were both perfectly nude, Harry pulled Draco flat against his body, and Draco revelled in the feeling of skin against skin, nothing between them, not even water and foam, like last time. Harry kissed Draco continuously as he carefully strapped Draco into the harness, leaving the blond whining disappointedly when he was turned around so that Harry could work at his back.
"Draco," Harry's voice was a gentle warning, and he tried to relax and closed his eyes. He liked closing his eyes to really focus on touch, sensation, when it mattered. He felt Harry's fingers, slick with lubricant, creeping between his buttocks, felt the arm wrapped solidly around him to keep him stable, felt the light touch of Harry's erect member against him as Harry gently worked him open, then comfortable.
The thought of having sex on a Hogwarts rooftop was suddenly less alarming when he couldn't think of anything but that. The fingers withdrew, and Draco arched his back slightly as he felt Harry being careful behind him, being slow, and so patient, and so good. His head lolled on Harry's shoulder as Harry pulled him as close as he could get. Whilst Harry was busy strapping himself to Draco, Draco could only think of the slight burn stretching him, the amazing feeling of Harry just being inside.
"Draco," Harry's voice was a gentle warning again, and Draco shivered at any slight movement the other boy did. "Tell me you're ready." His voice shook slightly, and Draco could tell that he was nervous, that he was apprehensive, hoping that everything would pull off perfectly. Draco nodded wordlessly, keeping his eyes closed. He trusted Harry.
Draco screamed. His eyes flew open, as rows upon rows of bricks, slate, building flashed before his eyes as they hurtled downwards together. Heights, falling, bad, bad, BAD! Harry's arm around him was tight, and his hands were clutching so tightly at the other boy that there would be crescent half-moon marks before they were done. Suddenly, the ground appeared in Draco's peripheral vision. We're going to die! The thought managed to form in his mind before there was a stomach wrenching feeling, and the blond suddenly emitted a loud, guttural scream.
The bungee stretched to its limit, and then paused for almost a split second before taking the boys up again. In that moment, Draco felt Harry grind inside, hit just there, and he almost forgot the falling sensation, and just remembered that Harry was inside him. Then his head was confused, and yet not at all, filled to its capacity to think several things at the same time.
Draco continued screaming. His scream changed, periodically, to lusty, fearful, and animal noises, as his mind became a whirlwind of Harry behind him, the wind whipping through his hair, the friction between them, rubbing him so well, his stomach lurching as they dropped, and rose, and changed directions, the amazing feeling of Harry's hand moving over him, giving him all and any satisfaction he needed, the blood rushing to his head, heightening all his senses, the pain which jerked inside him each time they hit the bottom and Harry pounded in that bit deeper and ground over that spot, the utter lack of rhythm Harry had for not being able to concentrate on so many things at the same time, the fear that he was going to hit the ground over and over, Harry's own fear and lusty noises being ripped from his throat right beside him. It was amazing.
Detachedly, Draco felt his body spasm as he came in Harry's hand, and watched a trail of liquid fall upwards in front of his upside-down eyes, and then felt Harry buckle behind him, since he had clenched, which in turn made his own hips buckle, and he whimpered.
"Draco," The urgency of Harry's voice so close to him made him focus on what Harry was saying. "Draco, Draco, you're making me-" he never finished the sentence, and it was only when Draco felt warm liquid bursting into him that he realised what he was making Harry do, and arched his back, spasming uncontrollably, gasping.
Eventually, they stopped bouncing up and down, and Draco pressed his hand to his head, completely drained. Harry slowly unbuckled them and they collapsed to the floor together, rolling in the cool grass. There was a wet sound as Harry pulled himself out of Draco, then flopped onto his back, fishing to his right for the clothes they had left here beforehand. Flinging a cloak over both their naked forms for the moment, Harry panted, "Wow, Draco. Wow."
With far too much effort, they wriggled together, and Draco looked up at his newly-become lover with half-glazed eyes. "That was amazing," he whispered hazily. Harry smiled, basking in the afterglow. "It was just... bloody hell. The best first time I could have hoped for. That's one to tell your grandchildren; not that I'm going to have grandchildren. 'My first sexual experience was gay bungee-jumping sex off a roof of Hogwarts. Beat that, sonny'." He grinned, a fully relaxed, completely open and happy expression. Harry leaned forward and kissed him on the nose.
"Someone's going to come along and see us, you know," Harry murmured, entwining their legs. Draco mewled softly and curled himself into Harry's embrace. "You don't care, do you?" Harry glanced down at his gorgeous boyfriend. Apparently not. "Okay. Let's stay here." He settled his head more comfortably on the grass.