Love Luster

Desk's Concealment

Warnings: Public sex, domxsub, Dom!Draco, Sub!Harry, horribly written don't hate me
Edited September 2023

The new Muggle History professor, Haljander, was not nearly as exciting as his name. It was almost as much of a disappointment to hear that the exotic name was pronounced "Hall-Gander" as it was to hear him teach his first lesson. Every day, students would attend the class with groans of agony. Even Hermione Granger didn't approve of him- 'Even I can't focus when he drawls on about what contracts are. We have contracts in the wizarding world! We know what they are!'

So when the second day of class he assigned seats, people were even more pissed. He'd intentionally seated everyone next to someone in a different house to prevent chatter and promote 'focused work'.

That was how Harry ended up next to Draco Malfoy.

It was still weird, having to express dislike for someone that in private he called his lover, but they had years of practice. Of hating each other, not secretly fucking behind all of their friend's backs.

"Potter," Draco drawled, collapsing down into his seat next to Harry.

"Malfoy," Harry shot back, making a show of pretending to scoot further away from the blond when, in reality, he really shifted closer.

"I trust you won't let your idiocy rub off on me during this one class?" Draco snarled, bringing out his parchment and quill and slamming them down.

"I'm sure any idiocy I have just bounces off your hair gel. It's like a helmet, isn't it?"

Draco's eyes narrowed and Harry had to fight down his grin. Draco no longer wore his hair like that- hardly put any gel in it at all, actually, but he still got mad whenever Harry brought up his first and second year look, even six years later.

Haljander started to speak, cutting off whatever retort Draco had, about America and how it was founded. Harry wondered how in the world this had anything to do with them, considering America was across the fucking ocean, and ten minutes into note-taking he was already dead bored.

Harry jumped when he felt a hand press against his knee, looking over at Draco, but he was staring studiously ahead as if he actually cared, nodding along and jotting down notes. Presuming Draco was just bored and touching Harry because he liked physical contact, Harry pressed his knee back against Draco's palm lightly as he made a new bullet point.

"In 1492, a ship discovered land that we now call America," Haljander drawled, underlining '1492', which Harry copied down into his notes.

Harry shivered slightly as Draco's hand moved, grazing up the inside of Harry's knee before latching lightly onto the bit of thigh just above it, Draco's fingers swirling gentle patterns onto the inside of his thigh.

Harry nonchalantly checked behind them, praising everything higher above that the one row of desks directly behind them were empty.

As class went on, every time Draco shifted his weight or went to put more ink on his quill, his hand drifted just a bit higher. Harry had thought it was an accident and kept his mouth shut, resigning to his notes, but a firm squeeze in the midsection on his thigh told him that Draco made no mistakes.

He'd told him that himself near the beginning of their relationship. "Everything I do is with anticipation of something ahead of it," he'd said, sticking his nose up. "Even mistakes have a goal of their own."

Harry supposed it was Draco's way of telling Harry to pay attention to the things he did so he wouldn't be as surprised, but Harry was always surprised anyway.

"Malfoy," Harry warned, his voice low as he tried to pry his boyfriend's hand off his thigh without drawing attention to them, but Draco's fingertips dug into his flesh almost painfully and Harry was forced to retreat. "Whatever you're thinking, Malfoy-"