Draco looks around, but the door to the potions cupboard is closed and it’s just him and Potter, who seems to think glaring is going do make him turn tail and run. It won’t, though. Not after what happened. He smirks. “Not what I’d like to be doing.”
“And what’s that?” The glance Potter darts to him is challenging, but there’s something else in his eyes that Draco recognises now for what it really is: heat.
“I don’t know,” he drawls. “What you did the other night was fairly good. But I’m adaptable.”
Potter’s jaw flexes, eyes going flinty behind his ridiculous specs. But his throat bobs several times before he finally says, “Good to know. I’ve got several other hexes I haven’t used on you yet.”
“As long as I don’t end up bloody on the loo floor, I’ll consider it foreplay,” Draco says, rolling his eyes when Potter flushes and looks away. Okay, mentioning that was a misstep. Draco shakes his head and tries again. “Stop pretending you didn’t like it. I was there, remember?”
Potter doesn’t answer for so long, an unwelcome flicker of uncertainty streaks through him. Potter had liked it, he’s sure of that much. Everyone’s Golden Boy had got off on their fight, just like him, losing his temper over such a little insult Draco doesn’t even remember what he’d said. But sweat had trickled down Potter’s brow, and his eyes went brighter than Draco had seen them since the start of term, narrowing with a sort of focus that made Draco’s cock plump as they’d flung hexes at each other. It seemed like it went on for hours but was probably only minutes, the colourful static of magic flaring in the air between them, before it devolved into fisticuffs. Before Draco found himself trapped against the stone walls of the castle, Potter’s hot breath against his face, Potter’s erection against his thigh.
He couldn’t help pulling him in and kissing him, then, and it was as much a fight as anything that came before, the taste of his own blood mingling with Potter’s on his tongue. And Potter had loved it – he loved it so much, he’d got on his knees right then and there, yanking Draco’s robes and trousers open in the middle of the abandoned corridor on the seventh floor, sucking his cock down to the base as Draco stood frozen, unable to believe what was happening. The blowjob was clumsy, inexperienced, but his mouth was hot and wet and Potter moaned through it, shoulder working fast as he wanked himself, his groans muffled by Draco’s thrusting cock. He’d finished seconds before Draco had and kept going, letting Draco come in his mouth and swallowing it, taking it from the ex-Death Eater he professed to hate, and god it had been fucking amazing.
So amazing, Draco’s spent the last two days fantasising about what he’d do to him the next time they got alone. Only Potter hasn’t even looked at him since then, is always surrounded by his fucking friends like they’re guard crups.
“It was a mistake,” Potter mutters at length, still not meeting his eyes. Draco lets out a measured breath instead of crowing with triumph. Somewhere deep down, he’d wondered if Potter would pretend it hadn’t happened.
Somewhere deep down, he’d wondered if it actually had.
For the first fucking time since the war, since that horrendous night and what came before, Draco feels like he can breathe, feels a bit steadier in the face of Potter’s anger, his confusion. The shiny boy everyone worships is just as fucked up as he is. He swallows and the back of his throat tastes like salt.
Renewing his smirk, Draco props a foot on a dusty potions trunk between them and leans in, one elbow on his knee. Potter glances over his shoulder to the door.
“I warded it,” Draco says, smirk edging on a smile.
“Malfoy,” Potter says, voice dropping. He sounds just as hungry as Draco feels, like he wants it, needs it, needs something the same way Draco does, and Draco’s only too happy to oblige.
He pinches Potter’s chin – and Potter lets him, stilling as soon as they touch. Potter’s mouth opens despite the curses flashing hot and green in his eyes, breath humid over the thumbtip Draco rests on his lower lip.
“Suck,” Draco murmurs, pushing his thumb in a little more. Potter inhales sharply… and then he slowly closes his parted lips around Draco’s thumb, and obeys.
