Drarry mistletoe, please? Thank you!
My pleasure, love. You know I low-key ship these boys. ;-)
Harry startled as the door to the common room slammed shut. He gripped the tumbler tightly, thanking his Seeker reflexes for not spilling his drink as he had been so lost in his thoughts when he’d heard the loud bang of the door he’d almost jumped off the sofa.
He turned to see Malfoy storm into the Eighth Year common room, his expression unguarded and tormented before he saw Harry. He immediately straightened, his expression changing to haughty and controlled almost faster than Harry could see. “Potter.”
Draco stood in place, clearly unsure what to say or do, and Harry saw him swallow hard before speaking. “Why aren’t you down with the others celebrating Christmas?”
Shrugging, Harry took a sip of his firewhiskey before answering. “Didn’t feel like it really.” He watched Malfoy look at the bottle of Ogden’s Finest on the table before him and before he could think about what he was saying Harry blurted out, “Want a drink?”
Draco didn’t move for a moment, clearly pondering his response, before nodding. “Sure. Yes, that would be… yes, thanks.”
Harry bit back a smile at Malfoy’s stumbled words and conjured another glass, pouring a generous measure for the other boy and holding it aloft. Draco walked over hesitantly and sat down next to Harry, their fingers brushing lightly against each others as he took the tumbler.
Harry nodded at Malfoy’s comment and saw a faint blush stain the other boy’s cheeks as he took a sip of the amber liquid. He blamed the firewhiskey for the swooping sensation in his stomach and denied the thought of the pretty blush on Draco’s pale cheeks or the warmth of his fingers as the cause.
“So, why aren’t you celebrating with the others?” Harry asked quietly.
Draco shrugged and took a long drink. “Feels wrong somehow, I don’t know.”
Since being back at Hogwarts for a few months for their Eighth year and forced to share not only smaller classes because of the few students who had returned for the repeat year, as well as a common room and dorm, Draco and Harry had developed a fragile and tentative friendship, but had never spent much time alone together before. The quiet of the common room with only the two of them in it pressed in on Harry and made him speak once again without realizing what he was saying.
“I know what you mean. Last year at this time I was at my parents graves and then fought a snake.” Harry saw the stricken look on Malfoy’s face and immediately apologized, “Shit, I’m sorry…I didn’t think.”
Draco shook his head, “No, it’s alright. Last year I had a madman in my home so it wasn’t exactly a holiday for me either, not that it…fuck.” Draco sighed and ran a hand through his hair in agitation. “I should feel festive this year, it’s all over thanks to you,” he rolled his eyes and bumped Harry’s shoulder, “but it still feels off.”
“Everyone expects me to go back to normal, “ Harry admitted and took another small sip. “But I don’t know what normal is really. That was my normal. Now I’m just… here, I guess.”
They sat in silence for a few minutes, sipping their drinks and both trying to come up with something to say that wasn’t centered on the war that they had endured. A flicker of movement over Malfoy’s head caught Harry’s eye and he turned to see a bright green sprig of mistletoe floating above them.
Harry swallowed hard and Draco looked to see what had caught the other boy’s eye. His eyes widened as he took in the mistletoe, hanging in midair just over them.
“That’s um…one of Seamus’.” Harry said softly. “It’s not going to go away until we, um, well, until…”
Draco nodded, his throat tight. “I swear Finnegan enchanted those just to have an excuse to snog Thomas everywhere.”
“Not that they don’t do that already.” Harry muttered, a small smile betraying his words.
“Right then,” Draco set his tumbler down on the table and turned to Harry, his expression unreadable, but Harry could see the determination in his eyes. “I guess that means we have to… or it won’t go away then.”
Harry nodded, not trusting himself to speak as Draco took his glass and set it down as well. He could only look as Draco moved closer, his cheeks tinged even darker with pink and his fringe falling almost in his dark grey eyes. Harry wet his lips, watching Draco follow the movement of his tongue as it flicked across his bottom lip.
Later Harry couldn’t remember which of them closed the distance between them, but he clearly recalled the press of the surprisingly soft lips against his own. Their lips slid against each other’s hesitantly, neither wanting to press the other further, but when a soft sigh left Draco’s mouth, Harry couldn’t help himself and he pressed closer, his mouth firm against Draco’s as he deepened the kiss.
It was all the confirmation Draco needed, months of repressed longing and subtle looks sent the other’s way, causing him to raise his hands and grip Harry’s shoulders, pulling the other boy against him as he licked at the seam of his lips, begging entrance. Harry groaned at the first slide of Draco’s tongue against his and couldn’t resist tangling his hands in the platinum locks, relishing the silky texture between his fingers.
Their hands wandered, exploring the feel of each other’s shoulders, chests, and arms, Draco’s hands finally settling on Harry’s hips as he plundered the other boy’s mouth. Harry pressed his hands to the back of Draco’s neck to hold him in place, the taste of the other boy overwhelming his every sense.
Finally, they broke apart, both panting for breath, but reluctant to let the other go. Draco rested his forehead against Harry’s, still clutching the other boy’s hips, trying to calm his racing thoughts and raging erection. “Alright, Potter?”
Harry pulled back slightly to look into Draco’s eyes. “Harry,” he smiled softly. “You should call me Harry.”
Draco smiled, his heart skipping a beat at the look in the lust-blown green eyes. “Happy Christmas, Harry.”
“Happy Christmas, Draco.” Harry murmured before pressing forward and capturing Draco’s mouth once more.