spellbound heart

𝐃𝐮𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠

Potter jumped, stepping back and blushing, like he hadn't realized how close they had actually been. He cleared his throat and gave Draco one last piercing glare, then turned and walked the paces to his spot.

"Ready," Robards said, and they both straightened, "Bow, and..." They both raised their wands. "Go--"

"Incido." "Ventus."

Draco went flying in a whirlwind of air, spinning countless times and then collapsing. When he looked up through a haze of disorientation, he saw Potter was still standing, though sporting angry red marks all up his left arm where the spell had hit him. The blood began to ooze. Potter quickly flicked his wand and closed the wounds with a healing spell. By that time, Draco had managed to get back on his feet, head steady once more.

Potter marched to him and Draco let him grab the front of his shirt. Draco's knees went just a tad weaker. "Are you trying to actually kill me?" Potter said.

Draco held his gaze. "You asked for it, Potter." He snaked his ankle around the back of Potter's knee and pulled it forward while pushing back on Potter's shoulder, and Potter lost his balance. Collapsed right on his back.

It would have been hilarious--it kind of still was--if he hadn't been holding onto Draco's shirt. Draco fell right down on top of him.

Potter pushed up against him, and Draco fought him back for a few moments, for long enough to feel the press of Potter's hands against his body. It sent shivers through Draco's skin. Then he let himself go slack and let Potter flip them over. Draco's back pressed painfully into a wand--whether it was his or Potter's, he didn't know.

Potter sat heavily on Draco's hips, his hands pressing down on Draco's shoulders. Draco didn't move. He wondered if Potter felt his erection starting to form.

"Off!" Robard's voice cut through the air.

Potter rolled off him, and Draco quickly reached underneath himself for the wand, not even looking at whose it was before casting. "Scorpiatus." It was a harmless spell, the kind first years cast on one another. Little stings ran up Potter's torso. Minor annoyances, really. But they seemed to be annoying enough to make Potter charge again.

This time Draco made an invisible shield and Potter smacked into it. Even the spectators laughed at that one.

Potter made a fist, pulled his arm back, and smashed it. There was a shower of magical crystal fragments as the shield shattered like glass. Draco swallowed.

Why did he feel like this? Why was it that ever since Potter annihilated the Dark Lord, everything Potter did gave Draco a hard on? He used to be able to scoff at Potter's forceful and physical nature, but now he practically craved him. Part of him knew he had probably, on some level, always wanted Potter. Just now, it was more potent than ever.

He wanted Potter to force him into submission like he did everything else.

He let Potter grab his elbow, relishing the squeeze of Potter's hand. "This is your wand," he said, holding it up in his other hand.

"Ah, yes it is."

"You grabbed mine." Potter slid his hand from Draco's elbow down Draco's inner forearm, rather slowly and deliberately, creating warm shivers through Draco's body. When Potter's fingers reached his inner wrist, Draco fought hard to keep an embarrassing whimper in check. Potter fingered the wand clenched in Draco's fist. "And this one's mine."

Draco decided then and there that Potter was going to have to force it from his hand, because Draco wasn't letting go of this moment, of this delicious contact, without a fight. He was going to push Potter's nerves until he snapped and pinned Draco to the ground. It had happened before.