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Dangerous Connection	By : TheLabRat Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 3199 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I own nothing and no one, but the plotline. Everything HP is owned by J.k. Rowling and associates. I make no money from this.

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A/N: Chapter two, for your reading pleasure. There are sexual themes in this particular chapter between our two favorite rivals. Fair warning. Now, on with the story...

.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.

I hadn't seen him in two months. Two months and I'd thought that perhaps my fascination with him had ended. Because he no longer plagued my every thought… Because I could finally go to bed every evening without dreaming of his eyes and the way they'd looked that night, out there in the cold…

But I'd been wrong.

He'd grown. He was almost a head taller then I, now. And his hair was rather long, but not slicked back, nor gelled. It was tied loosely at the back of his neck. Our eyes connected just as I was about to board the train and he smiled. I couldn't breathe.

He was absolutely stunning.

I don't remember following Hermione into our usual car, and I certainly don't remember what Ron had been going on about the whole way to the school. I don't recall much of anything, really, beyond those cool blue eyes and the heat they'd directed at me. All I could think about was Draco.

I do remember that he was suddenly everywhere, though. And I mean everywhere. It seemed that no matter where I looked, there he was. Looking as perfect as ever. We still threw insults at each other, still got into the occasional scuffle… but somewhere along the way, it became more of an odd ritual of sorts. There was no actual force behind any of what we said. Nor was there ever any power behind our punches. It was like it was all for show... or a new level to our game. I knew now that I used these exchanges as an excuse to touch him. Understood that I was attracted to him… that I wanted him.

And with that revelation and understanding came the sexual tension.

Every time he touched me, it was like a shock to my system. Every time we spoke, I wanted nothing more then to press my lips to his. To stop his horrible words with my tongue…

To see if maybe, he'd kiss me back.

I'd been seeking him out more often. Talking to him in between most every class. Yes, they were insults, but he always… always responded. He was always right there. Was always looking right back at me.

The aforementioned tension came to a head some two months later. It was an empty classroom in the middle of the night, a room that wasn't used often, and I was glad of that. It meant there was less of a chance that we might be interrupted. By teacher or cat. I'd been the one to lead him this time. During our 'fight' in Herbology I'd whispered that we should meet. That we needed to talk... His only reply then had been a nod. But at lunch Hedwig had dropped a note onto my plate that read only:

One a.m.

Too many eyes and ears otherwise.

It hadn't been signed, but it hadn't needed to be. I looked up and caught his eye, an easy task since he'd already been looking at me, and nodded. Then I tucked the note into my pocket, taking care to fold it properly. Ron and Hermione had been too busy cuddling to notice any of it, and for that I was grateful.

Sneaking away had been a terribly easy affair. I'd used the marauder's map and watched him leave the dungeons, then met him in the corridor. Silently, I'd nodded for him to follow, and he'd fallen into step with me easily. I remember finding the whole thing ironic. And I smiled to myself as I watched our feet as we went. It would have looked odd to anyone who knew us. To see us walking side-by-side, down any of these halls. Just the idea was preposterous. But I rather liked it. Our arms and hands had brushed every so often and the sensation lit little sparks that skidded up and down the entire length of my arm. I didn't move away to prevent it, and neither did he.

Minutes later and he was standing not three feet in front of me, waiting. When I didn't speak right away, he crossed his arms and sighed. "What's this all about, then?"

I'd sighed, then too. Because he knew perfectly well what this was about. It was clear when I looked at him… From the posture he held to the glint in his eyes, it was painfully evident. He was well aware of the effect he had on me. He just wanted me to say it out loud…

To admit it before he had to.

He was always touchy when it came to showing certain weaknesses first. And this was no exception. But I didn't know how to phrase it, whatever this is. And I didn't want to muck it up with foolish chatter and babbling nonsense. So I stepped closer to him instead. For his part, he didn't bat an eyelash. Not even when I was close enough to feel him breathing. Though, I knew, better then most, exactly how good he was at masking his real emotions. And when I felt his breath finally hitch as I leaned into his personal space, I smiled, and whispered into his ear.

"I'm here, Malfoy… Because I know what I want." I let my left hand reach up and rest on his hip, gently pulling him into me. He came willingly enough, one of his own hands settling on the small of my back. His expression stayed neutral, though. I bit my bottom lip.

"And?" His voice was but a whisper of breath down my neck and the soft skin of his lips brushed the shell of my ear. I shivered lightly. Having never really been this close to someone else. At least, not in this context… It sounds so odd, even to me. But no one had ever been that… gentle with me. To be touched in such a simple yet intimate way, it astounded me.

I never knew that just the brush of fingertips could feel like that.

My mouth had gone dry, and my palms were sweating, but I was actually fairly calm. Calmer then I feel I should have been. But while that revelation swam through me, Draco had been growing rather impatient. When I hadn't replied quickly enough for his liking, he fisted my tee shirt with the hand still on my back, and spoke with a voice that commanded attention. "Harry, you have to tell me… Say it. What do you want?"

"You."

I'd barely gotten the word out before I found his lips on mine. Hungry and demanding, and I opened to him. And I don't mean just my mouth. I had decided, over the two months before then, that he could have whatever he liked of me. Could take whatever he wanted, just as long as I could have him, too.

Even if it was only for a little while…

And I'm not daft, not by any means. I knew full well that whatever this was, it wasn't going to last. It couldn't… simple as that. But that didn't mean that I was going to let the opportunity pass me by, either. Honestly, it's a miracle that I'd lived this long already, and I'd no idea if I was going to be living for much longer as it was. So if I've learned anything from life, it is simply this: Take what you can, when you can. And appreciate it.

So that is what I'd intended to do.

I'd had to crane my neck up a bit, him being as tall as he is. But that didn't matter at all. His mouth was warm, and inviting and his tongue was ever so playful. Challenging mine. Teasing and flicking so deliciously that I moaned. And then I was being pressed into the wall. I still don't really know how he'd managed it. I didn't recall walking the thirty odd feet, but there it was, against my back. And there he was, right there, against me.

His hands pushed my clothing aside, as his lips moved away from mine to map out my neck and collarbone. I tugged at his robes weakly, trying to reach him through them. Wanting to see if his skin was really as soft and supple as it had looked.

It was softer, as it turned out…

And he was sensitive.

The skin of his neck between my teeth, as I toyed my tongue over it… The bare patch if flesh at the small of his back where my fingers drew lazy circles… His cheek, where my other hand held him hostage, to make sure he couldn't just up and leave the kiss we shared…

Everywhere, it seemed.

Because he made these soft noises in the back of his throat, and his breath hitched and stuttered. His hands flexed and his pulse jumped.

And blimey, but that was almost unbearable.

Why?

The answer to that is quite simple really…

It made me feel like a god.

I held him tighter and panted into his mouth as he captured mine again. I could feel the effect this was having on him, just as well as he could feel my own desire. Plain as day… and yet, hidden within this darkened room in the middle of the night. If I'd had the sense of mind, I might have chuckled at the irony. As it was, I could barely breathe, let alone think anything beyond his name cycling through my brain.

It sounds terrible, and I still blush scarlet to this day whenever I think on it, but I actually climaxed from the very first touch of his hand. In fact, I'd barely had time to register the firm grip he'd had around me before I was lost to the oblivion of white-hot pleasure surging through my veins. And I'd honestly thought for sure that he'd laugh and sneer at me, proclaiming his prowess and putting mine down in one fell swoop. But when I looked at him through half lidded eyes, panting as I leaned my head back against the wall, he was licking his lips. Seemingly lost in the sight I must have made. My legs wrapped around him, my robes open, shirt pushed up, and the fly of my jeans undone. Exposing me to the air.

I was determined to make him feel it too. I wanted to see him lose control... to watch him fall apart under my hand. So I set one wobbly leg down, followed by the other… and used the surprise of the moment to pin him to the wall, almost reversing our positions entirely.

It was easy enough to work his trousers open, easier still to sink to my knees, as my legs still couldn't stop shaking. My hand trembled when I pushed his underwear down far enough to expose him to me fully. I looked up at his gasp and saw that his cheeks were flushed a deep red, his pupils dilated, and his eyes fixed firmly on my mouth. A fact that I couldn't help grinning over. In retrospect, I know that it was probably the worst head anyone has ever received, but he didn't complain. Nor did he seem to care. He panted my name, and his hips twitched and trembled as if he were trying desperately to control them. To stop himself from hurting me…

He tried to speak, but his words were garbled, half choked and ragged. Unintelligible. And then an unsteady hand had slipped into my hair, almost caressing my head and I couldn't help it… I moaned.

His fingers squeezed and he practically screamed, as my mouth was suddenly flooded. And five minutes later, when we were both panting and leaning against each other's shoulders, with our backs to the wall; he curled his arm around me, and pulled me close. Gently running the tips of his fingers through the short strands of hair at the back of my neck.

I have no idea how long we stayed there like that. I do know that some long while later, he pulled me into a slow, searing kiss and rested his forehead against mine. His eyes were warm, yet fierce as he regarded me.

"No more mucking about, Potter. No more dating the Weaselette… No more games. You're mine." I swallowed thickly, unable to define why the timber of his voice sent a shiver down my spine. Furrowing my brow in rebellion, I shook my head once, if only to help clear it.

"I don't belong to anyone Malfoy. I am no one's property." The words were clear, and I meant them. But to take the sting out of them, I lifted a hand to cup his cheek. And I couldn't help but think that if I did, and if it were to him… then maybe, I could be happy. I was never one for subtleties, and I opened my mouth to speak again, but he'd moved before I'd had the time.

He 'd stood, quick as a flash of lighting, and straightened his robes. His cheeks flushed again, but with obvious anger this time. "Say whatever you like, Potter… but some part of you will always belong to me now. You cannot simply take what we've done back." He'd slammed the door on his way out, and I'd flinched. What did that even mean anyway? I'd no idea then, and I never got the chance to ask him.

Two days after that, he'd left Hogwarts for good.
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Dangerous Connection