𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆

The Second Day

Malfoy abruptly stopped his continued dissertation on Harry’s sloppy appearance and went very still. He finally spoke after a moment, seeming as if he had endured some sort of internal argument with himself.

“Potter, I swear to God, if I get any flack for wearing the same thing two days in a row you are going to be a very sorry man.”

Harry laughed. “Maybe you should just go as you are, then.”

Draco looked over at him, smirking, “You’d love that, wouldn’t you.”

Harry felt a dull flush rising up his cheeks. “Actually,” Malfoy continued, “you look like you’d love a few things right now.” And the way his drawl hinted at so many things went straight to Harry’s cock. Malfoy was walking around the bed now, a predatory look glinting in his grey eyes.

Harry found he could do little but stand slightly awkwardly, still holding his watch, and wait, unable to tear his gaze from Draco’s expanse of pale skin, watching his muscles move as he walked closer, right up into Harry’s personal space.

Then Malfoy was leaning in, pressing his tongue against Harry’s throat, making a slight “hmmm” sound that sent tremors down Harry’s spine. He was achingly hard, and he felt Malfoy’s fingers trailing lightly over his stomach. He tilted his head back and sighed.

Malfoy’s fingers were pushing him, guiding him towards the bed, taking a firm hold on his hips and sitting him down on the edge. His fingers moved slowly down Harry’s thighs, and Harry could feel every movement as if Draco’s fingers were heated.

Then he was opening his eyes, and Draco was on the floor, between his legs, eyes huge and grey and sparkling and looking at him without spite or anger or jealousy but something else was there…something was…

Then Malfoy’s beautiful mouth was on him, and he could feel Malfoy’s strong grip on his thighs, and that wonderful tongue was licking his slit and it was so good and it was always Draco…

Harry tangled one hand in the back of Draco’s hair, feeling silken strands tickling his wrist. Draco moaned around him, taking him deeper, and he could feel the warmth of the back of Draco’s throat and that humming noise was vibrating around him and he was close and he was hot and panting and Draco was closing his eyes and sucking his cock and it had always been Draco….

When Harry came down Draco’s throat he dropped his watch back onto the floor, all thoughts of lateness completely forgotten.

****

When they reached the training room, Harry had a moment of hesitation. Walking in with Malfoy, especially in their current state of total disarray, would leave no questions for anyone…it would be a statement…

Malfoy clearly hadn’t thought of such consequences; Harry saw him run a perfunctory hand through his hair and begin to saunter forward into the room. Caught in a sudden impulse, Harry grabbed his arm roughly.

“Wait- maybe….maybe we shouldn’t go in.” He realized belatedly that he was half-whispering. Malfoy was looking at him as if he’d gotten an extremely simple potions ingredient wrong.

“As in, not go to our second day of training? Potter, I may not be an expert on the subject, but I’m pretty sure that is a poor way to make a good first impression.”

“No,” Harry started, “I mean…we can go in…just not…like this. You know, like. Together.” Once he heard the words himself he realized how they sounded. And for the millionth time in his life, he cursed his ridiculous incoherence.

Malfoy’s face had gone completely blank, stony indifference replacing the bemused smirk he had worn only moments before.

“I see.” His cool voice seemed overloud in Harry’s ears. “Well, Potter, do as you will. I, for one, have no intention on allowing your incompetence to further impede my arrival.” With that, Malfoy looked pointedly downward, where Harry’s hand still had a firm grip on his left forearm. Malfoy wrenched his wrist free and reached to take a black bit of fabric out of his pocket.