The Ties That Bind Us (Drarry)

Chapter 9

He had to see it, Draco decided. Suspicion wasn't enough, no matter how sure Draco was. He wanted to see it — Potter looking at him with utter lust, begging Draco to touch him, moaning as Draco kissed him, shuddering as he let Draco do whatever he wished to him. He had to experience it.

And he had to convince Potter to agree to it.

He could claim that he wanted Potter; say he had a crush on him, too, but he suspected Potter wouldn't believe him. Potter made no such conclusions, even after he had discovered that Draco was aroused. And he was right, of course; Draco wasn't crushing on Potter. The only appeal of all this was making Potter crumble beneath his touch. That wasn't love; that was rivalry.

Though it wasn't hate either, a small voice in his head told him. He didn't want to smash Potter's nose and watch him bleed as he once had — before Potter had reached down, grabbed Draco's sweaty hand and pulled him to safety.

"I want to make a different deal," Draco said quickly even though he made no decisions yet. He wanted to stop his line of thought. It didn't matter why he wanted it; Potter's wish was the important thing. His crush was what Draco wanted to explore.

Potter grimaced. "What sort of deal?"

Draco was thinking furiously. "Well, since we're here and have nothing to do and you're so confused . . ." Draco waited for the logical continuation of the sentence to come to him and, miraculously, it did. "I think we should try to resolve your confusion."

"I'm feeling more and more confused by the second, to be honest," Potter said dryly.

"Fear no more, Potter." Draco grinned. "I'm willing to offer myself as your test subject."

"Pardon?"

"You wanted to know if you're gay or not. Well . . ." Draco indicated himself with his free hand. "Find out."

Potter stared at him.

"It's a perfect opportunity for you," Draco insisted.

"You're . . ." Potter gulped audibly. "You're offering . . . sex?"

"Merlin, no, Potter!" Draco paled. He didn't want to have sex with Potter. Sex meant . . . pushing cocks into places where cocks shouldn't be pushed. Draco shuddered, though, oddly enough, not unpleasantly. Well, if Potter wanted Draco to do that to him . . . "I doubt we'll have to go that far," Draco amended. "You're so obviously gay. I think after a few kisses you'll see it." Draco considered the matter more carefully. "I suppose you can suck me off, if you wish."

Potter finally stopped blushing; Draco had forgotten how Potter looked without a flush decorating his cheeks. Paleness didn't suit him so well.

Potter slowly raised his hand in front of Draco's eyes again.

"How many —?"

"Two!" Draco snapped. "You're holding up two fingers. Please stop it. What does that even mean?"

Potter shrugged and lowered his hand. "You are utterly insane," he said with conviction.

"No, I'm merely bored. And I think that some kissing and a blowjob would cheer me up and amuse me. I'd rather do that than stare at the parchment for the next two hours."

Potter looked petrified. He stopped breathing and he even stopped blinking.

Draco frowned. Perhaps boredom wasn't a valid excuse for sex with your school rival. He had to think of something else. If only he could.

"Well, do you accept? I'm doing you a favor here, Potter."

Potter blinked once. "Out of the goodness of your heart?"