𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆

The Second Day

Harry had noticed earlier that Malfoy left the armband off this morning; he had assumed it had been forgotten in their hasty gathering of clothes and wands, but now, watching Malfoy slide the band around his wrist, he got the feeling there was another reason entirely.

And then Malfoy was through the door, cool and composed, and Harry was left cursing himself.

The day went quickly downhill from there.

There were the constant questioning looks from Ron, who kept nudging him and trying to talk to him between sessions about where he had gotten to last night and what he was trying to do by showing up late.

There was the way Harry couldn’t stop hearing himself saying those idiotic words, and couldn’t stop seeing Malfoy’s expression go from openly entertained to violently hostile in a matter of seconds. The scene replayed itself in Harry’s mind, dragged him away from what was going on in the gym, and he made his own private list of things he could have said that wouldn’t have been the equivalent of verbally spitting in Malfoy’s face.

Then there was Malfoy himself, who was ignoring Harry completely, behaving not only as if nothing had happened, but that he had no concept of Harry’s existence. He never made eye contact, he stood on the opposite side of the room from Harry at all times, and he didn’t say a word throughout the entire day. It was completely distracting.

Even worse was the fact that now Harry had all these images in his head. He knew how Malfoy’s eyes darkened when he was caught in a moment of unguarded desire; he knew how Malfoy’s voice sounded when it was thick with emotion and sincerity. He knew how Malfoy’s entire body reacted to stimulus; the way his fingers flexed and his hips curved and his mouth trembled and his hair fell in his eyes and his voice broke with lust and his pulse quickened and his breathing hitched…..

It was the longest day of Harry’s life.

******

The evening found him in the locker room, sighing heavily has he pulled his jeans on. He had somehow managed to lose track of Malfoy, which was absurd because he had been watching Malfoy with questionable stealth all day. However, they had been split up into groups, and Harry’s had wandered away from Malfoy’s so he couldn’t continue his open gaping. He frowned as he started doing up the fly on his jeans, trying desperately to pull his thoughts away from Malfoy’s teeth. Certainly Malfoy knew he was sorry. Certainly he knew he hadn’t meant it that way….Malfoy was smart…Malfoy was perceptive….

Malfoy was standing behind him.

Harry spun around in surprise, only noticing Malfoy’s presence out of the corner of his eye at first, then swinging around to face him so quickly that he nearly fell over.

That humiliation over, Harry opened his mouth to apologize, to explain. To do something vocally that would fix this.

What he said was: “You scared me.”

There is was. The sneer. The one that had made Harry feel foolish when he was twelve, and still had the exact same effect six years later.

“Alas,” Malfoy drawled, “a humiliation to the house of Gryffindor. Apparently there is more bravado than bravery where some of you are concerned.”

“Look,” Harry started. “I’m not…..I can’t…I’m not good at this kind of thing.” And then he went red again, hoping that Malfoy would take ‘this kind of thing’ as an umbrella term for all things romantic and speech related.

“Clearly.” Malfoy was looking at him now an unreadable question in his eyes, his stance betraying nothing but utter relaxation. He was lounging up against the far wall of the room, arms crossed. It suddenly struck Harry that Malfoy was completely dressed, coat in hand, ready to leave. And that Harry himself still had no shirt on.

So, in the face of abject embarrassment and astonishing lack of verbal talent, Harry did the only thing he knew: he acted.

He was crossing the room towards Malfoy before he had even realized it. Suddenly their faces were inches apart, Harrys hands braced on the wall behind Malfoy’s head. Harry noticed Malfoy’s breathing speed up slightly, and his arms slowly came uncrossed.

It was all the permission Harry needed.

Then he was leaning in, kissing Malfoy heatedly, opening his mouth again and again over those arrogant lips, tasting Malfoy’s anger, and he tried to slide his tongue across Malfoy’s teeth in a way that would beg forgiveness. They broke apart, and Harry tried once more with words.

“Look, I’m sorry…I never….I don’t…and you….you broke my clock.” Should have kept with the kissing.

Surprisingly enough, Malfoy actually laughed. “So..I break your furniture, you punish me with verbal insults, then punish yourself with mental abuse all day, then there is sex and all is forgiven? That is a very strange justice system you have going, Potter.” Harry could feel Malfoy’s fingers curling in his hair at the back of his neck. God, just hearing Malfoy mention sex was sending images flashing though his mind.

“It works for me.” Harry grinned. Then Malfoy got a look on his face that was nothing short of feral.

“So, there will be sex then?” Malfoy was smirking. His eyes were trailing over a spot on Harry’s neck and his hands were slowly venturing down Harry’s exposed chest. His fingers hooked in the belt loops of Harry’s jeans, and he gave a slight tug.

For once, Harry didn’t have to worry about finding the right words. “Clearly.”