I smile, but I'm frowning, too. I'm not sure what to make of her message to Harry. He sees my confusion and edges over to read the letter in my hands.
He laughs quietly and slips a hand onto my waist. "I'd have to agree with her."
"What?" I ask, looking sideways at him. "She saves your life and you get landed with me?"
"Sometimes you really are an idiot," he says, turning me around by my shoulders.
"But-"
"Draco?" he cuts me off and I look at him expectantly.
"Shut up."
He leans in and kisses me, hands still on my shoulders and my breath catches. I grab hold of his waist to keep myself steady and he laughs against my lips. I debate telling him that now is really not the time for laughing, but I decide it can wait because he's kissing me, his tongue gently running across my lip and oh god, I've never wanted anyone more.
The hurt from being cut off by my friends fades as Harry's mouth moves against mine; for some bizarre reason I feel safe here, wanted, and I trust him to take care of me.
Warm hands steal under the T-shirt I'm wearing and move around my waist as we kiss, hot and open mouthed. We're trying to get closer together, bodies pressing from hip to chest and I can feel his cock through his trousers, pressing hot and hard against my hip.
"Upstairs," I manage to say against his mouth and he nods, kissing along my neck and making my legs shake.
"It'll be easier if you let me go," I breathe as I take a step back and he stumbles with me, mouthing along the juncture between my neck and shoulder, pulling the T-shirt aside with clumsy fingers.
"Mmm," he agrees. "But then I have to let go of you."
Trying another step back proves pointless; he moves with me, his hands tight on my waist and I realise that I'm not helping matters by running my hand down his back to cup his arse, pushing him into me.
"Oh fuck it," I turn us around, tripping over our feet as we shuffle round, still lip locked. I bring my hands up to run over his chest and he moans appreciatively just before I place my palms flat on his chest and then shove him, hard. He cries out and falls backwards, the backs of his legs hitting the sofa and making him fall back, sprawling inelegantly over the cushions.
"What the hell?" He looks up at me indignantly but then his jaw drops, his expression quickly changing as he sees me pulling my T-shirt over my head, tossing it aside.
I smirk down at him, my fingers trailing over the button of my jeans as I take a step backwards towards the door. "Are you coming, or am I going to be having fun all by myself?"
Popping open the top button I take another few steps back and Harry hastily scrambles to his feet, his eyes fixed firmly on my fingers.
"I'm coming," he says fervently, his voice hoarse. "Christ, Draco-"
He steps towards me and I turn, confident he'll follow as I leave, all but running up the stairs towards my room. I can hear his footsteps behind me and as I shove through the door to my bedroom his hands catch my hips, stumbling through after me.
Turning in his grip, my eyes light up as I see he's divested himself of his shirt on the way and I'm treated to the delight that is being pressed up against Harry Potter's naked torso as he pulls you into him by your hips and kisses the living daylights out of you.
I'm not sure how we make it over to the bed; I'm far too busy running my hands over every bit of his exposed skin that I can and he's far too occupied trying to trip me up by pushing my - his - jeans down my thighs so they slip down, pooling around my feet and rendering walking an issue.
Impatience wins out over self control and this time he pushes me; I end up sprawled on my back on my bed, hard and panting. He's looking down at me, his chest heaving and he reaches down to unbuckle his belt.
Scrambling up onto my knees, I only pause long enough to kick the damn trousers from around my feet and yank off my socks (which, by the way, are impossible to take off in a manner that is at all graceful or seductive) before crawling over to him, grabbing the waistband of his trousers and heaving him closer. His shins hit the bed and he lurches forwards with his knees pressing on the edge of the mattress, his hands grabbing my shoulders to keep himself upright.
I kneel up straight and take his mouth in a kiss, loving the way his breath hitches in his throat before he kisses me back, his hands sliding down my back.
"God, I want you," he says against my mouth, his voice rough and scratchy. "I've wanted you since that day you wore my clothes-"
"Well hurry up then," I reply. "You can't fuck whilst wearing your trousers."
He groans, letting go of me to undo his belt and open his trousers, pressing kisses to my mouth over and over as he pushes them down, his movements clumsy as he tries to get them past his knees and off. "You're going to be the death of me," he breathes.
"Good job I'm now trying to do it with sex instead of evil schemes, right?" I quip and were both tumbling backwards onto the bed, clad only in our underwear and desperately wanting more.
He wraps a leg around mine and we press together again and I can feel his erection against mine, even closer than before, but still with too much material in the way. Fortunately he seems to be thinking on the same lines because he's trying to tug both his underwear and mine off, alternating between the two, tugging them a fraction down more each time before switching back to the other.
"Get on with it," I hear myself saying but he's laughing and works his other hand uncomfortably beneath us to assist in the clothing removal. My boxers are the first to go and then his are also removed and tossed aside to join mine on the floor. He presses back up against me and I gasp as he frantically ruts against me, our cocks sliding together and his hands are on my arse, pulling and kneading and pressing me into him, every movement feeling fucking fantastic.
Keeping track of things is proving difficult - now we're both naked my head is spinning and we're like two randy teenagers, kissing messily and groping desperately. He pulls his hips back away from mine and he reaches down to take me in hand and fuck, his hand is sweaty and hot around my cock and it feels so fucking good,pumping up and down with enough wonderful pressure to make my toes curl and my back arch. Every time he runs his thumb over the head of my cock, smearing precome, I gasp and he moans softly in response. I've always thought handjobs are underrated, especially when the person giving is pressed up against you, their body hot and hard against you, their mouth panting into yours-
His hand leaves my cock all too soon and he rolls us over so I'm on my back with him atop me and suddenly it all changes. We pause, and I look up at him, biting my lip somewhat nervously. My heart jolts; he's lost his glasses somewhere in the fray and god, those eyes, they're so green and he looks vulnerable somehow, blinking to keep me in his focus.
He's staring down at me like he can't quite believe that I'm there. Without thinking, I reach up, putting my palm on his cheek and he laughs breathlessly, quietly and then leans down, resting on his forearms either side of my head.
"You are just..." he murmurs and gently kisses me. "Infuriating," he finishes. "Brilliant."
I carefully kiss him again. "I know," I say seriously and he rolls his eyes. "Now, get on with it."
"Infuriating," he repeats and leans down to kiss me, long and hard. When he pulls away I'm breathless all over again, but my mouth still manages to run away with me.
"Brilliant," I breathe back and he smiles.
"Are we just staying in bed all day then?" A sleepy voice asks from behind me.
"Mmm..." I reply lazily, wriggling contentedly, my back pressing against his chest and my arse against his crotch. I bet if I wriggle enough I could get him excited all over again and ready for another round. "Well I am. You're going to get out to go make us a drink."
"Nice try," he says and kisses the back of my neck. "I'm the guest here. I get to be the one to laze around in bed."
"Yes, but I've just been fucked six ways from Sunday, walking is going to be a problem for me."
He laughs and I grin, rolling over in his arms. It's true; whilst the sex wasn't the fast, wild, animalistic shagging that I had envisioned, it was deep and strong and oh-so-thorough. I can still feel a twinge somewhere up in my body if I move in the right way, and I'm pretty sure my thighs will never be the same.
Christ it was good. I've never had it like that, that intense. With someone not just fucking me, but taking care of me whilst doing it: holding onto me, touching me, kissing me, thrusting slow and deep. I shiver pleasantly, knowing that I'll probably be feeling it for days.
He rubs his nose against mine and I flush, rolling my eyes. "Christ, you should have been a Hufflepuff."
"Can I remind you who instigated the spooning?" he responds.
"I did not-" I say indignantly, pushing at his shoulder.
"You so did," he insists, laughter lacing his words. "You're Draco Malfoy, secret snuggler."
"I'll kick you out," I threaten, pressing my feet against his knees and starting to shove him backwards.
"No you won't," he grins back. "You like me being in your bed too much."
