Cheers, Potter.

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This cheeky little mini-chapter here is what happened in the last chapter - which I gracefully sidestepped - but due to the little nasties among you who wanted this... Voila. Enjoy! WARNING: SMUTTY CONTENT AHEAD! If you don't want to read it, skip to the next chapter. You won't miss anything .

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Draco's POV

Oh, Merlin. There was no going back now.

Well, there was, but I didn't find that nearly as enticing has Harry Potter's naked torso writhing against mine, so I decided that backwards was not the direction I wanted to move in.

We'd not breathed in a while, which was probably important. But I was swept away from any and all good sense in the moment and all I knew was that I wanted him.

I was wearing too many clothes. Too many barriers laid between Harry and I being completely vulnerable to one another. The thought terrified and excited me; something my pants was struggling to hide.

I was also acutely aware that Harry had a very very impressive situation that needed to be taken care of.

For a moment, while my mind was still processing exactly what was going on, I wanted to stay North of the equator. I kept my hands exploring his torso and taking in his presence on top of me. Oh, how I enjoyed seeing him from this angle. He leaned against me, unmistakably trusting, and pressed our lips together with an urgency I could tell we both felt. I pulled him closer to me pulling him down by his nape and tangled my fingers in his hair.

Feeling braver, I slid my hand from his thudding chest, relishing the feel of his skin: warm, smooth and solid. I hoped he hadn't noticed me shaking, and raked my fingers down his abdomen and around to the small of his back. I paused at his cotton waistband, nerves getting the better of me but when he traced his kisses from my lips, across my jaw, to my ear he said in a sultry voice I hadn't ever expected to hear from him:

"Touch me,"

That was all the encouragement I needed to venture beneath the cloth. I  felt the smoothness of his skin, the warmth of his body against my palms, this is real, this is happening, I chanted giddily in my head. My hands found the curvess of his butt and I gently dug in my fingernails to the hard muscle. I pulled him down further so his knees no longer kept the distance between us and the resulting groan I heard in my ear was euphoric.

He pulled our lips apart and kissed down to my collarbone each soft touch feeling electrified, I couldn't keep a breathless but bright smile from adorning my face as I revelled in the sensation. He lightly bit and sucked at my neck, no doubt leaving burgundy lovebites to replace his affection when he returned his attention to my face.

Then he paused, less than an inch from my face, his eyes full of excitement and something else... a question?

Of course he's confused right now. He's Harry fucking Potter. When wasn't he confused?

I seemed to have not masked that though very well because he said without breaking eye-contact and with a laugh in his throat, "you've got to admit this is weird,"

"You want to make it weirder?" I suggested suggestively then immediately hated that I had suggested it.

We both laughed softly, his body moving with mine, "what does that even mean?" He asked.

"It sounded better in my head," I tried to play it off, "can you just kiss me again?"

"Definitely," was his enthusiastic answer, and he did so without hesitation or reservation.

His mouth was hot and enticing, I wanted more of it, though I didn't know what that really meant. His tongue explored mine, his lips devoured mine. There wasn't a peice of him I didn't want to see, have and experience for myself. I wanted every part of him...