A strange shift began to develop. Oddly enough, Harry replaced Draco as the instigator of most of their battles. Draco would simply send a dark, indecipherable glare in Harry's direction, which Harry would feel before seeing. After an irritating prickling developed around the area of Harry's nape, Harry would spin around with his own glare and say something to the effect of, "Got something to say, Ferret?"
And a fight would always result, in varying levels of viciousness. Harry didn't question why Draco had changed his method of provocation. He was afraid to. Rumors had it Draco hadn't fucked anyone since that night in detention a week and a half ago. Harry didn't question that either.
But Harry was getting answers whether he asked the questions or not. He overheard a conversation between Lavender and Parvati. "I heard Draco has been making himself unavailable lately.
"Draco? Unavailable? He's done everyone over the age of fifteen."
"Including you, Lavender?"
"Oh, I don't kiss and tell."
"You don't hide things very well, either. What's he like."
"He's very...in control. I don't mean dominating, really. It's more like, he has every move planned out beforehand and executed exactly as he intends - not that I'd ever do anything to stand in the way of Draco's master plan."
"Oh, don't be such a prude Parvi. He's just so intense and has this way of getting you so wrapped up in whatever he's making you feel that half the time you don't even notice when he goes over the edge."
"He really is a sexy bastard isn't he."
"Yeah, too bad you haven't had him. Too bad he doesn't seem to be interested in anyone lately either. He's got to be the most shaggable boy in Hogwarts."
"Oh, I'd say Harry has got him pretty much in a tie. Harry's a bit more particular about who he takes to bed, though..."
Harry quickly moved away before he had to hear more of what would probably be a rather embarrassing conversation about him. He really didn't think he needed to know all the pros and cons of sleeping with The Boy Who Lived.
Harry was trying to ignore Draco. Harry was failing. No matter what he tried he couldn't get out of his head the image of that dark stare, the image of that nude, pale, perfect body, the image of Draco unraveling beneath him. He couldn't stop wondering what Draco would taste like, pouring down his throat, feel like, clamped around him or rammed up inside him. He wondered how he could have spent years feeling nothing but rage towards the blonde and now, suddenly, wanted to shag or be shagged raw every time those eyes met his. He had to say something to Draco, and managed to find him alone in a hallway before a lunch period.
A wary gaze drifted over to him. "Potter."
*Might as well jump right in,* Harry thought. "So I hear you've been limiting physical contact. Anything to do with me?"
A moment passed, and another. When Draco did speak, his voice was unexpected enough to make Harry jump. "Are we enemies, Potter?"
"Yes. I suppose we are."
"Then it really isn't any of your business to enquire upon my actions, is it?"
"No, I suppose it isn't."
Draco stalked away. *Well,* Harry thought, *that went well*
Nothing happened for a while. Draco didn't seem to be getting any less withdrawn. Harry didn't make another attempt to confront him. He was surprised, then, when Draco came after him.
Harry was studying up late in the common room, when Draco stepped through the painting. "How did you get in here?"
"I asked Lavender for the password - told her it was urgent."
"And she told you?"
"Yeah. Silly bint must trust me or some such. Surprising, the leeway one can get for fucking someone."
"I didn't mean you." Draco clarified. "We didn't really fuck, now did we? You see, Potter, it comes down to this. I want you, for the moment, anyway. What say we have a go of it?"
Harry said nothing, searching Draco's face for his real agenda.
Draco seemed to be losing his confidence as the silence stretched on. "Just say no already, will you!" He, finally snapped. "I'll just obliviate you and be on my way."
And it all made sense. Harry thought this must be what Hermione felt like during one of her eureka moments. Why would Draco be asking Harry to say no? *Because then he never has to admit to himself that I'm of any importance to him, or that that night in detention was anything more than a mistake. Because he's a Malfoy, and Malfoys don't have such weaknesses, do they?*
Harry responded, finally, with a kiss. "Draco, without a spell, you'd never shut up, would you." Harry knew the reason Draco was coming back to him and the reason he'd been avoiding everyone else. Draco was always in control of every little situation, as a good Malfoy should be.
Except he hadn't been that night in detention. Under a spell where he couldn't make a sound, Draco had completely let go. Coitus had always been a momentary pleasure or a means to an end. With Harry it had been about release. Every muscle in his body had gone slack. He'd screamed when he came. And he knew he couldn't risk losing it like that with anyone else. He hadn't meant to lose it like that at all, but that spell...And now that he'd felt that release, he craved it. *Oh Harry, you've ruined me for other men.* Except the quip wasn't as funny when it was true.
Harry dragged Draco up to his room, drawing curtains closed around his bed and casting a spell to soundproof it. He helped Draco out of his clothes once Draco stripped him of his own. He let Draco push him down into the sheets, pulling the blonde down with him and drawing a warm, wet tongue deep into his mouth. Draco moaned throatily, sliding as much of his skin against Harry's as possible. *No one else has ever seen him like this,* Harry thought. *And I'm glad. I don't want anyone else to see him writhe like he's under cruciatus. I can't bear the thought of him being this exposed with anyone else. Only for me, Draco. You're all mine.* Harry was surprised by his own possessiveness.
He reversed their positions and slithered down Draco's body until facing Draco's crotch. He studied the shaft for a second, rigid, pale, uncut, and finally slid his mouth over it, sucking hard and deep, stopping just shy of his gag reflex and wrapping his hand where his lips did not reach. Draco stilled, and shivered beneath him, letting out short, hitching breaths. Harry slid up and down the shaft, staring up at the blonde's face, watching the chin tip back, swallowing as Draco came on a sob.
Harry pulled up Draco's boxers, which had tangled around his feet, and then rested his head on Draco's thigh. He trailed his fingers up and down Draco's leg as Draco's fingers carded through his mussed black hair. *Thought can wait for the morning.*
Draco awoke first to find Harry's head still resting on his thigh and an arm flung across his stomach. Though Draco wore boxers, Harry's only covering was a sheet pulled up to his waist. Light peeked through the curtains around the bed. The silencing charm had most likely worn off by now, so he had better make his escape quietly if he didn't want to be noticed.
He rolled Harry off of him just in time for Ron's head to peak through. "Harry, wake up. Your going to be late for breakf..."
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