Harry Potter - Series Fan Fiction ❯ Quidditch Talk and Love-Making ❯ Chapter 1

A/N: Hey! This is my first HPDM fic, if you couldn't tell already, but certainly not my first time writing anything like this. So before you ask, just read the story and tell me what you think of it. Constructive criticism is welcome, just no flames please! Thanks and enjoy!

 

Who was he kidding? He didn't like him; he couldn't like him. He was a Malfoy, the other, a Potter. Malfoy was straight; Potter was gay. It was a duel of right from wrong, and liking Malfoy was just wrong. Besides, even if Malfoy was gay, how could he have told him…? He had fancied the blonde since they met, but he couldn't let him know that… It was one of the reasons that he didn't accept his hand in friendship, a lame excuse if you ask me…

 

Harry sighed, looking up from the floor to see Draco Malfoy strutting down the hall towards him. Great, he thought. Just who I wanted to see.

 

“What are you doing out so late, Potter?” he drawled, flashing his famous smirk at Harry; his stomach flipped. “I could easily turn you into Professor Snape for being out after hours.”

 

“You wouldn't dream of it, Malfoy,” Harry stated, subconsciously reaching for his wand. “Seeing as how you're out after hours as well.” Malfoy's face paled considerably and it was Harry's turn to smirk.

 

“Right, then,” Malfoy said, gaining his complexion back. “I'll let you off easy this time… Next time you won't be so lucky.” He pushed his way past Harry, whispering in his ear as he passed, “Prat.”

 

Harry smiled; he had won this battle, but knew the war would be much more fun. “Git,” he whispered as he walked off, well aware that Malfoy couldn't hear him. It was fun to say anyway.

 

He sighed again and let his chin meet his chest as he continued to walk towards Gryffindor tower. He only glanced up once when he noticed one of the portraits had yet to go to sleep. “What are you doing out so late, boy? Dumbledore should hear about this!” He cried, waking a few other portraits around him.

 

“Bloody hell,” Harry muttered, breaking into a run towards the staircase, which was beginning to move. He reached the edge of the floor, jumped, and grabbed onto the railing as the staircase was moving. He pulled himself up and brushed himself off; that was close, he thought.

 

When he reached the Gryffindor common room, he noticed Ron and Hermione were still up, sitting down in the comfiest chairs near the dying fire. Ron looked up when Harry walked in and nudged Hermione in the knee.

 

“There you are, Harry. We were beginning to wonder where you went…” Hermione began, before being cut off by Ron.

 

“Well, mate,” he said, patting the parchment lying on the table in front of them proudly. “I finished my essay for potions…”

 

“Not without my help, though,” Hermione interjected, rolling her eyes melodramatically. “Which reminds me, Harry: have you even started yours?”

 

Harry, having been out all night and very much in his own thoughts, merely stated, “Um… I'm tired, guys. I'm gonna head up to bed. `Night.”

 

Leaving the two flabbergasted in the common room, Harry ascended the stairs that led up to the boys' dormitory, where he quietly changed into his pajamas. He climbed into bed, setting his glasses on his bedside table and drawing the curtains around his four-poster bed. He was asleep in a matter of minutes…

 

“What's wrong, Potter?” Malfoy drawled, a proud smirk playing on his lips. He couldn't believe it; he had just lost the Quidditch Cup to Draco Malfoy of Slytherin, of all people. He wouldn't have been so upset if he had lost to Cho Chang and Ravenclaw, but Malfoy?

 

“I haven't seen you this bummed out in ages,” he continued on, making Harry's head sink lower than it already was.

 

“Sod off, Malfoy,” he said, raising his head a bit, only to see the blond suddenly lose his smirk, lust etched in his face. He was looking at Harry, he noticed, and was moving forward slowly.

 

Now, their surroundings changed, and they were suddenly lying down on a soft, silky bed in what looked to be the dungeons. Malfoy's eyes hardened as he pulled Harry down in a searing kiss that broke the sound barriers.

 

Harry's hands snaked their way down Malfoy's body, stopping hesitantly at his waistband. Malfoy, noticing this cease in wanted movement, pulled back and whispered, “Fuck me, Harry.”

 

Harry shivered as he slowly undid the button on his trousers, pulled the zipper down and…

 

Harry woke in a start, hot sweat pouring down his face. He looked down, seeing the arousal his erotic dream had caused. “Bloody hell,” he whispered. “Damn that Slytherin Sex God and his gorgeous body…” He groaned and heard someone rustle in the dark; silence and then a loud snore indicated Ron had come up to bed.

 

Harry laughed inwardly, and decided that he should be taking care of his little problem now. He got up and carefully made his way to the bathroom; once inside, he muttered a few helpful spells, locking the doors and placing a silencing spell around the room…

 

The next day…

The morning sun weaved its way through the windows of Gryffindor tower. Each of the beds in the boys' dormitory was filled with the sleeping form of a proud Gryffindor. In the distance, an owl could be heard hooting and a crow cawing. Every once in a while, one could witness the fine breeze that shook the tops of the trees in the Forbidden Forest. Yes, it was a fine Friday morning.

 

However, that was all about to change as the storm clouds began collecting overhead; inside, that is. An early morning fight had broken out between two of the school's most prized students: Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy. What this pitiful little fight was about, no one knew. It seems that they quarreled over the silliest things, whether it be their clothes or who was better in Quidditch. Whatever the feud was over, it was stupid.

 

“Malfoy, why don't you just admit it?” Harry questioned the fuming blonde. “I am way better than you at Quidditch.”

 

Ah, back to the Quidditch.

 

“I will never agree to anything you say,” the Slytherin snarled in defense. “Much less admit that you are better than me in something!”

 

Harry scoffed at this last statement, knowing full well that Malfoy was right: he was too arrogant to express defeat. This thought made Harry laugh and Malfoy glared at him threateningly. “What the hell's so funny?”

 

“You,” Harry replied nonchalantly. Malfoy stopped glaring and instead gained a look of confusion and disgust.

 

“Potter, how many times do I have to tell you to stop bickering with Mr. Malfoy?” Harry whipped around, standing face to face with Professor McGonagall; he grinned, knowing that his Head of House wouldn't do anything rash to him.

 

“Oh, only about a million more times, Professor,” he said, the grin never leaving his face.

 

“Mr. Potter, report back to your common room immediately,” she stated firmly and Harry lost the look of triumph from his face. Malfoy laughed triumphantly at this until McGonagall turned her piercing stare on him. “The same goes for you, Mr. Malfoy.”

 

Malfoy sneered at Harry before walking in the other direction. “But, Professor I—”

 

“No! Excuses,” she said, calmly but definitely.

 

Harry sighed heavily before walking towards the marble staircase. When he got to the top and was about to turn to the right, a hand grabbed his arm and pulled him off to the left. He gasped, trying to break free, only to have a voice sneer at him, “If you struggle, it'll only get worse.” Malfoy, Harry thought.

 

“Malfoy, what're you—” Harry was cut off by being thrown against a wall, a body pressed against his.

 

His eyes grew wide with shock as Malfoy breathed, “Merlin, I've been waiting for this for so long.” A second later, he felt a pair of hot, wet lips on his, hands wrapping around his waist.

 

Harry didn't react at all while the blonde mauled his mouth. When Malfoy broke off he said, “Potter, if this is going to be pleasurable for either of us, you have to actually do something.” His mouth once again found Harry's, this time more demanding.

 

Harry was tentative before giving Malfoy what he so desperately needed: attention. Malfoy moaned as Harry slipped his hands around his neck, pulling him closer. He closed his eyes when Harry traced his bottom lip with his tongue, asking entrance. Malfoy hungrily complied as he slipped his own tongue into Harry's mouth. The feeling of Harry's silky tongue on his own made him moan audibly, not being able to keep it in.

 

When Malfoy's hands wandered down to Harry's growing arousal, he pulled away, panting. “Potter, what're you doing?” Malfoy demanded.

 

Harry began talking slowly, “Draco—”

 

“Wait,” Malfoy intervened. “You just called me Draco.”

 

“Whatever,” Harry quipped. “The point is that we can't do this here. What if somebody sees?”

 

“I have a room…?” Malfoy supplied.

 

“Goodbye, Malfoy,” Harry said, stalking towards the stairs, leaving Malfoy looking dumbfounded behind him.

 

Ten minutes. That's all it took. Ten minutes for Harry to get to the Gryffindor common room, run upstairs to the bathroom, and vomit. He came out of the bathroom, rubbing his mouth, to face a concerned Hermione and an amused Ron.

 

“Harry, what happened?” Hermione asked. “You're as pale as Malfoy.” Harry swayed violently at this and ran back into the bathroom, throwing up again. When he came back, he sat down on his bed, Hermione and Ron on the redhead's bed. “It was Malfoy, wasn't it?” Ron asked angrily.

 

Harry nodded while saying, “Dra—Malfoy… He… He…”

 

“Kissed you?” Hermione facilitated. Ron looked at her disgustingly, then back at Harry.

 

Harry gave a slight nod and Ron fainted. Shaking her head, Hermione turned back to Harry. “You enjoyed it, didn't you?” She asked.

 

Harry's eyes got wide as he nodded silently again. “Then why did you throw up?” She asked him.

 

“I was disgusted with myself for letting that happen,” he said, finally finding his voice, though his throat hurt from recent activities in the bathroom. “I mean, it's Malfoy. I'm supposed to hate him… Aren't I?”

 

It was more of a rhetorical question than anything, so Hermione let it go. Ron was stirring beside her as she said, “Well, we'll leave to let you collect your thoughts, Harry.” She got up, pulling Ron to the door with her. Once she pushed him out, she turned back to Harry. “And Harry?” She sighed, knowing full well she wouldn't like what she was about to say, and it would probably scare the hell out of Harry. “If you do start… Well, just know that I'll support you. So will Ron, even if I have to force him. Good luck.” With that, she was gone, leaving Harry on his bed feeling tired and confused.

 

Later…

 

When Harry entered the Great Hall at lunchtime, he couldn't help his eyes darting over to the Slytherin table. He saw the blonde boy staring at him, smirking, only looking away when Blaise Zabini nudged him with his elbow. Harry sighed and made his way over to his table, sitting between Ron and Ginny; Hermione was across from them.

 

“Harry?” Hermione asked, eyeing him warily. “Are you feeling okay? You weren't in Defense Against the Dark Arts today…” Her voice broke, trailing off while staring into Harry's eyes; they were full of confusion and… lust? Desire? She couldn't place it.

 

“Yeah, I'm fine. I just… Had some thinking to do,” he replied solemnly, shoveling food onto his plate. Well, his appetite hasn't changed any… Hermione thought.

 

“Oi! Potter!” Malfoy. “Rumor has it that you have a thing for guys!” The entire Great Hall went deathly silent.

 

Harry just sighed as he slowly turned around, quite aware of a thousand pairs of eyes on him as he did so. He stared threateningly at the blonde Slytherin before wittily replying, “Well, Malfoy. I also know a rumor or two. Like how you like to pull random boys off into hallways to snog them senseless.” He grinned as Malfoy blanched and several boys around the Great Hall blushed profusely.

 

“Don't joke, Potter,” Malfoy retaliated, sending Harry a death glare. “You're no good at it.”

 

“Trust me, I don't joke,” Harry said, giving him the same stare.

 

“And why the hell should I trust you?!” Malfoy argued. “You could be as untrustworthy as a Slytherin for all I know!”

 

“Are you saying something about your classmates, Malfoy?” Harry asked flatly. This statement earned Malfoy some demanding stares from the rest of his table; he ignored them all, focused on Harry.

 

“What if I was? Why would you care, Potter?”

 

“I never said I did,” Harry said. “I would think that insulting your fellow Slytherins would result in—”

 

“Alright! That is quite enough!” It was McGonagall. “Don't make me start deducting points from you two!”

 

Chatter slowly started again, but the eyes stayed glued on the two boys. Malfoy smirked as Harry turned around to face a surprised Hermione. “Just…” He held up a hand to stop her from saying anything, and she promptly closed her now open mouth. “Don't worry about it.” He said, picking up his fork he had abandoned on the table five minutes ago, and began eating.

 

Even later…

 

As Harry was walking down the dank corridors that led to the dungeon classrooms (how he hated Potions!), he couldn't help but feel like he was being followed. He turned around and noticed a smirking Malfoy behind him, accompanied by Blaise, who was whispering something into his ear. He saw Blaise start walking faster to get away from Malfoy; when he passed him, he whispered, “Have fun.” Harry shuddered at the thought of what that could only mean as Malfoy came in front of him.

 

Waiting until everyone was inside the Potions classroom, and with time to spare, Malfoy glared at Harry; not loathingly, but hungrily. The sight made Harry shiver uncontrollably. He felt a hand grace his thigh as he was pushed against the wall; then came the unmistakable lips of Draco Malfoy on his.

 

He gasped as Malfoy grabbed his crotch as he attacked his mouth with his, jabbing his tongue in and biting his bottom lip with his teeth. Harry moaned in pure ecstasy as Malfoy bit his neck with hungry affection. Then, Malfoy pulled away, leaving Harry pressed firmly against the wall, fully aroused. There was no way he could go into the classroom like that: red, kiss-swollen lips; a slight bulge in his jeans from recent activities; a lust that made his eyes glitter and his head hurt.

 

“Class is starting, Har—Oh, hi Malfoy,” Hermione stuck her head out of the door addressing the two. “You'd better hurry. Snape looks especially annoyed today.” She brought her head back into the classroom as Malfoy followed her in. Harry hesitated for a moment, but thought better of it; he had already missed one class today, and if he missed Snape, he would surely have detention.

 

He walked inside, only to be met with stares and whispers as he found his seat next to Ron and Hermione. She gave him a reassuring squeeze on his hand as he sat down; then she nudged him and directed his attention to Malfoy, who was staring at him lustfully. Harry shivered.

 

“Today you will be making a very simple healing potion,” Snape growled, hands tightly clasped behind his back. “Anyone who's foolish enough to mess this up—” Neville Longbottom winced. “—Will be getting a detention with me on Saturday night.” He waved a hand and the desk in front filled with ingredients and the board gained instructions. “Your partners are the same as last year. You have one hour. Begin.” He sat down at his desk, ruffling through some papers before briskly getting up and going into his office.

 

Harry sighed as he got up and moved over to Malfoy's table; he had been assigned with Malfoy last year, as a sort of `punishment' from Professor Snape. Now, however, it was just torture. “Well, Potter,” Malfoy began, staring at him blankly. “Go get the ingredients!” He barked, pointing at the table in the front of the room.

 

“Merlin, you can be so demanding,” Harry huffed, getting up and complying with Malfoy's requests.

 

“And you can be so pathetic,” Malfoy countered. “Now, start cutting the roots while I begin stirring.”

 

“Why do I always have to cut the roots?” Harry interjected, carefully, yet harshly, slicing the knife into the thick fiber. “I can do stuff other than cut, you know.”

 

“You have yet to prove yourself, Potter,” Malfoy whispered; his eyes were filled with that damn desire again. Harry fought with all of his self control to stop himself from leaning in to kiss him with full force; that could wait until later, though. They'd need this healing potion for after he was done with him.

 

The rest of the hour went by in silence, only broken by Malfoy barking orders in Harry's direction while stirring the potion. When Snape came out of his office, he said, “Time's up. I want a sample of each of your potions on the desk up here now. I also want you to test your potions.” Neville cringed and reached for the ladle in his cauldron. “Now, Longbottom, how are you supposed to heal yourself when you aren't hurt?” Snape smirked while Neville gulped hard.

 

“Do you think we should test ours?” Malfoy asked Harry, turning to him with a look of hope in his eyes.

 

“Yeah,” Harry nodded. “I'll take the stab to the arm. I'm better at handling pain than you are, Malfoy.”

 

“I resent that, but okay,” Malfoy carefully picked up a clean knife and impaled it into Harry's arm. Harry hissed in pain, but never changed the intense look on his face, staring at Malfoy. Everyone was watching them intently, even Snape. When Harry drank the potion and his arm healed completely, everyone clapped and cheered while Harry looked at Malfoy with a smugly. Malfoy returned the look while smirking, and turned to hand their sample to Snape. When everyone was cleaning up, Harry took an empty vial from the cabinet and filled it to the brim with their potion; putting a size-reducing charm on it, he pocketed it, saving it for later. He smiled to himself and walked out of the classroom.

 

Later…

 

As soon as dinner rolled around, the whole Great Hall was buzzing about that day's activities in Potions class; how Harry had looked intently at Malfoy without the slightest hint of fear on his face while he stabbed him with a sharp knife. Instead, it was replaced by much needed yearning, something that struck everyone as odd between the two.

 

Unaware that a note was silently being passed from the Slytherin table to the Gryffindor one, Harry was devouring his meal with a one-track mind: food. He was so hungry, not having eaten much at lunch and totally missing breakfast. Then, the note reached him. He recognized the handwriting as Malfoy's and hurriedly threw it open as his eyes skimmed over it:

 

Potter,

Meet me in the Room of Requirement at 11:00 tonight… Bring your invisibility cloak. Yes, I know about that! Be ready for some fun…

Draco

 

Harry could hardly wait; he turned around to see the blonde smirking at him manically. He grinned back, not being able to keep it in. He turned back around to his food, finding that he couldn't eat anymore. He finally figured out what had made him not hungry before: Malfoy.

 

He waited until Ron and Hermione had finished eating and followed them up to the Gryffindor common room. He still had a few hours until 11, so he decided to play a game of Wizard's Chess with Ron in front of the fire, rather than do his homework.

 

“So what was that note all about?” Ron asked, rubbing his chin, trying to decide his next move. “D5.” He said, moving his bishop to catch one of Harry's pawns. “You seemed awfully excited after you were done reading it.”

 

“Oh,” Harry replied, moving one of his other pawns to capture Ron's bishop; the fiery redhead cursed under his breath for not seeing it. He had to admit that Harry had gotten surprisingly better at this game through the years. “It was… Nothing. Don't worry about it.”

 

“Ok,” Ron said, obviously too intent on winning this game than actually paying attention to Harry's love life. “Check.” He had moved his queen in front of Harry's king, taking him off guard, as he usually did.

 

Harry slipped out of it, then heard Hermione speak up from her corner of the room. “Harry, you'd better be careful tonight. Don't do something stupid.” Looking up, Harry noticed that they were the only ones left in the room.

 

“Why would he do something stupid? Harry, what in the world is she talking about?” Ron asked, looking up at him.

 

“I have no idea,” Harry lied; Ron just shrugged and looked back down at the playing board, where his queen was busy plowing down one of Harry's knights.

 

“I swear, Harry, if he hurts you…” Hermione began, letting her sentence trail off and showed Harry instead by strangling her quill. Harry just laughed until he heard Ron's voice.

 

“Check and mate,” Ron sat back confidently as his queen cut Harry's king in half with her chair. “Good game, mate.” He yawned. “Well, I'm beat. I think I'm gonna head to bed.” He got up without explanation and climbed up the stairs to the boys' dormitory.

 

Hermione rolled her eyes as she looked back at Harry. “Just promise me you won't do anything—”

 

“Don't worry, Hermione,” Harry reassured her. “I won't let him hurt me, I promise. I cannot promise, however, that something won't happen. He's just too hot to resist.” He smirked as a small smile found its way onto her face.

 

“Okay,” Hermione said, turning to the clock. “I trust you, Harry. You'd just better hurry up. It's already 10:45.”

 

Harry jumped up and ran into the boys' dormitory to hear Ron already sleeping. Laughing silently to himself, he grabbed his invisibility cloak from his trunk and sprinted down the stairs. Placing a light kiss on Hermione's cheek, he whispered, “Thanks.”

 

Blushing, Hermione just waved her hand and said, “Go. You don't want to keep Malfoy waiting, do you? He's very impatient.”

 

“No, I don't,” Harry chuckled as he ducked out of the common room, slipping under the invisibility cloak as he did so. He silently walked down the hall until he noticed a door coming into view; the Room of Requirement.1

 

He picked up his pace eagerly, shedding the cloak and bursting through the door; it revealed a grotesquely (to Harry) decorated deep green room, complete with the leather couches and fireplace. It had a dark green rug in the middle and a bed in the corner, though it was silver.

 

“You're late, as usual,” a voice said from the shadows. Malfoy stepped out to reveal himself, wearing his pajamas minus the shirt; they were long, bright green pants with silver stripes.

 

“I'm not always late,” Harry remarked, shutting the door quickly behind him. He strode over to Malfoy, dropping his cloak on the couch. When he was standing breathtakingly close, his breath caressing the face of his lover, he lowered himself onto the bed, pulling Malfoy with him.

 

Malfoy leaned down, bringing Harry's lips to his own impatiently; he let his hands wander all over Harry's body, memorizing every inch of the Golden Boy. He broke off for a second to jerk Harry's shirt off over his head; once it was flung across the room, along with his pants, Malfoy continued the attack on Harry's mouth.

 

Harry's hands roamed every inch of Malfoy's chest and abdomen, gasping slightly at the six-pack he encountered along the way. “Didn't think I had one, did you?” Malfoy breathed against his lips.

 

“To tell you the truth, I didn't know if you'd have one or not. But now that I know…” Harry grabbed the back of Malfoy's neck and pulled him back down to kiss him fiercely. He decided that he had had enough of being the underdog, and, always craving to be on top, he flipped them both over easily so he was straddling Malfoy's hips.

 

The blonde gasped at this, but his gasp was swallowed by Harry's mouth covering his in another heated kiss. Harry's hands found their way down to Malfoy's pajama pants and were beginning to ease them slowly down his hips. They were tantalizingly close to his growing erection and Malfoy didn't think he could take it anymore; he bucked his hips to signify that Harry was going to slow, but he thought nothing of it.

 

“You know,” Malfoy panted, breaking off of their kiss again. “I wouldn't mind actually doing something tonight if you would hurry the fuck up!” He gritted his teeth in annoyance as the other boy just slowly eased the pajamas down his legs.

 

When Malfoy kicked them off and pulled Harry in for another gut-wrenching kiss, Harry lost all of his resolve as he quickly ripped his and Malfoy's boxers off, throwing them across the room. Grinding their erections together forcefully, Harry's eyes rolled to the back of his head while Malfoy threw his head back onto the bed.

 

Bringing himself together, Malfoy stole away Harry for another kiss, leaving both feeling dazed with lust and desire. Harry brought his lips down to Malfoy's milky skin, leaving a small trail of kisses on his neck before sucking on it lightly. He let his teeth bite into the soft skin momentarily, earning a loud moan from the other boy beneath him.

 

Malfoy looked up at Harry with darkened eyes, begging to be taken by the raven-haired Gryffindor, something a Malfoy never did. Well, fuck the Malfoy name; all that mattered now was that Harry was his for the taking… Or the other way around.

 

“We… We need lubricant,” Harry muttered, pressing his erection into Malfoy's again; Merlin, he was so close to giving in. He looked over to the bedside table to see a bottle of lubricant had appeared; it wasn't called the Room of Requirement for nothing.

 

Now, Harry had never done this before, but he wasn't about to let Malfoy know that. He slathered his fingers with the greasy liquid as he slowly brought his hand past Malfoy's sack, down to his hole. He hesitated before Malfoy gave him a nod and he pushed a finger in; he stopped when it reached the knuckle, giving Malfoy time to adjust.

 

When Malfoy went down on his finger, Harry added a second one, using a scissor-like motion to stretch him out for something bigger that was to come. Malfoy writhed beneath him, moaning in ecstasy as he bucked his hips to Harry's finger movements inside of him.

 

When Harry added a third finger, he brushed his prostate, making Malfoy moan Harry's name loudly. Then, Harry asked, “You did put a silencing charm on the room, right?”

 

“No,” Malfoy replied, hissing in delight. “I wanted the whole entire school to know what we were doing. Of course I put one up.” He moaned again, this time going farther down onto Harry's fingers. “Harry, I want you inside of me, now! I swear to Merlin if you don't hurry… Fuck!”

 

Harry withdrew his fingers from Malfoy and positioned himself in front of the blonde beauty; he slowly pushed in until he was fully sheathed, Malfoy squirming under him the whole time. “Merlin, that feels so good!” Malfoy announced, gripping the bed sheets, causing his knuckles to turn white.

 

“Draco… You're so… tight…” Harry said, holding onto Draco's hips for leverage; just the feeling of his cock being in his arse was enough to make him come, but he had to hold out for Draco's sake of enjoyment.

 

When Draco started moving his hips, Harry took that as a sign to also start moving. He pulled out slowly, leaving the head in, and then slammed back into Malfoy, eliciting moans of pleasure and pain from the Slytherin. “Merlin! Faster, Harry!” Draco bucked his hips to Harry's on the second thrust, meeting him halfway.

 

Harry moaned in pure bliss at the sight of Draco meeting his thrusts into him; he looked determined yet at peace with himself and Harry right now. There was no way to lose that look of enjoyment on his face. Harry thrust in and out again, faster and harder this time; Draco squirmed even more beneath him as he meet Harry's thrusts every time.

 

Once when Harry hit his prostate, Draco called out to him, moaning his name loudly. “Merlin, Harry! Hit that spot again!” And Harry did; in fact, he hit it every time after that, angling himself so that he could guarantee it. Malfoy moaned and writhed under Harry the whole time during their love-making, screaming Harry's name at random when he hit his prostate the right way.

 

Fifteen minutes into it, Harry could feel his orgasm coming; not wanting to be the only one to come, he grabbed Draco's erection in his hands, pumping it lightly. It got faster and harder with every thrust into the blonde, causing him to arch his back and hiss in pleasure.

 

When Draco finally came, Harry couldn't take it anymore; just the sight of Draco coming was enough to make him hit his climax. He thrust into Malfoy one more time, and, while howling his name, collapsed on top of him, shuddering through his orgasm. The tremors of his orgasm stayed even after it was over, and as he pulled gently out of Draco, he turned to him and said, “Draco… About earlier this morning…”

 

“Don't worry about it, Harry,” Draco breathed, too tired to bring his voice any louder. “You were right… You are better than me in Quidditch.”

 

Harry was taken aback by this sentiment, never thinking that a Malfoy would do that; but nevertheless, he turned to Draco and said, “I had a dream last night of you beating me and winning the Quidditch Cup…” Malfoy's eyes got wide at this. “But, if I'm truly better than you—”

 

He was cut off by Draco's lips on his again. “Stop talking, love,” he whispered. “It's ruining the mood.” He snuggled his head into the crook of Harry's neck, inhaling his scent.

 

A couple minutes passed before Harry whispered, “Draco?”

 

“Hmm?” Came the tired response.

 

“I love you.”

 

Harry heard Malfoy's breathing stop and he picked him up slightly to see that he was sobbing slightly; not a lot, but enough to tell.

 

“Draco?”

 

“I… I love you, too, Harry,” he said, pressing his lips to Harry's.

 

Harry sighed after pulling away, relieved that he hadn't just made a complete idiot out of himself in front of the blonde Slytherin. Content with himself, Harry pulled the blonde teen back into his embrace and fell asleep.

 

A/N: Hey, I need you guys to review this to tell me what you thought. It was my first HPDM fic, and I just want to see how I did… Just, please, no telling me I rushed into it… This is by far the longest one shot I have ever written and I didn't want to drag it out forever. That gets kind of boring. So, review you guys! I have a cookie to the first lucky customer! Lol No flames please! They hurt the soul!

 

1: I know this is kind of repetitive of all the other fics out there… It gets annoying, if you ask me. But I couldn't think of anywhere else it would be fit for them to have sex, so I just picked a place. Hope you're not too mad. It's the quality of the fic that counts, right? lol