An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 3/3
Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Characters: Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter
Additional Tags: Mildly Dubious Consent
Harry and Draco have detention in the greenhouse. The rest is pretty predictable.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Draco snarled. Potter had the strangest expression. His green eyes slid over Draco's face as if he'd never seen it before—and he apparently liked what he saw.
"You're so lucky," Potter breathed. "Lucky, lucky, lucky Malfoy."
"What are you prattling on about?" Potter's fists were clenched tightly in Draco's robes and something hard pressed into Draco's flank—he hoped to hell it was Potter's wand.
"You have everything, Malfoy. You have two parents. You have a fabulous home. You're rich. You have stars named after you…"
The last thought was so bizarre that Draco found his mind following the tangent. "Er… that's not quite how that works—"
"And you're perfect. You're good at everything. You're good at Quidditch. You're amazing with potions. You're fabulous with spells…"
Draco's lips twitched with amusement. Something had definitely come over Potter. Draco raised a brow sardonically and Potter's breath seemed to catch in his throat for a moment.
"And you're pretty. So very pretty, pretty, pretty."
Potter's lips crushed down on Draco's and sucked lightly. Draco gasped so sharply the movement of his chest nearly dislodged Potter, who made an irritated sound of protest and pressed himself up a bit. His tongue pushed past Draco's teeth, muffling his words of protest. Draco's hands moved to find purchase and throw Potter off, but both wrists were caught by Potter's fingers and slammed to the ground on either side of Draco's head.
Potter's tongue was doing astounding things to Draco's mouth and sending flickers of warmth zinging through his body. Where the hell had he learned to do that, anyway? Certainly not from that cold fish, Cho Chang… All consideration of Potter's kissing prowess fled instantly when something moved against Draco's groin and fuck, no, that wasn't Potter's wand at all!
Draco tried to thrust upward with his legs and dislodge the Boy Who Kissed Like a French Whore, but he simply wrapped his legs around Draco's and made a moaning sound in his throat that turned Draco's bones to liquid. Potter was practically licking the back of Draco's throat and Draco's body suddenly took up the gauntlet with a rush of glee. Draco was certain he'd never become so hard so quickly in his life.
Oh, this is fucking, so fucking wrong, Draco thought even as he pressed his hips upward a bit because, oh my god, it felt good when Potter rocked his pelvis like that, and then Potter's hands left Draco's wrists. Draco would shove Potter away… in a moment… just as soon as he put his hands into Potter's hair, because he'd wanted to do that for quite some time now, he'd just never realized it…
