This was born from this request:
How about a blurb where he says I love you for the first time during sex. And you don’t know if he really means it or it’s just sex talk. And then you have to talk about it after.
I gave it a little twist and it’s finally here! I feel like I just gave birth to this one, tbh. Thanks to my beautiful @permanentcross for putting up with me and for giving me the title. Hope you guys enjoy it! xx
“Have you ever gone bare?”
He almost chokes on the wine he was sipping on before swallowing and coughing profusely, eyes watering with the rattling force of the cough. You’re both sitting in his living room, each on a side of the couch as both your feet are tangled as they meet in the middle – his legs are much longer than yours and his socked feet are also bigger, but he looks cozy in his sweater and you feel warm and comfortable.
The wine had probably gone to your head, you’ve never really been good with holding your liquor, but your curiosity stems from much more than the alcohol that runs through your veins – you’re not even that drunk, so you have to admit that the question comes from a place other than a drunken haze.
“Wh- where did tha’ come from?” Harry asks you, deep frown on his forehead as he rubs the back of his hand against his lips to clean the wine stains and settles his glass on his coffee table.
You shrug, cheeks flaming with embarrassment that you’ll later blame on the wine, when he brings up the topic. “Always wondered…”
This one took me forever to finish! Hope you guys enjoy it <3 Thanks @pennigg101297 for the beta!
Something ecstatic, for sure. Harry stared at the red cup in his hand… was it really his hand? It seemed completely detached from his body. The boy looked up. Yep, definitely something.
The whole room was a recreation of those psychedelic movies. Purple, blue, green, red, the colorful lights blurring everything and everyone else. There were people on the ground, laughing at absolutely nothing, boys with girls and boys with boys and girls with girls and even trios, Merlin’s tits, the whole room exhaled teenage hormones. Someone, Harry suspected it was Dean because he was almost sure that was muggle music, made sure to choose agitated songs, those that practically force you to tap your foot to the beat even when you don’t feel like dancing at all.
Harry dropped his head, eyeing his seemingly detached foot, tapping to the beat. Where the hell were Ron and Hermione?
A very clear memory of his two best friends half naked snogging each other assaulted his mind before he could examine the room.
‘Bloody hell’ he rubbed his eyes like that would be able to erase the awful experience. Okay, he better not search for them this time. Though Hermione wouldn’t go doing… things with Ron if she knew people were pouring drugs into each other’s drinks, right? This was a common room, for God’s sake. An eighth year common room full of grown up students, but still, drugs!
'Haaaaarryyyyy!’ Luna’s round blue eyes stared at him through an unknown fog. She smiled widely, blinking once, twice… and bursting out laughing, most probably at Harry’s confused expression. 'Why aren’t we dancing?'
Luna giggled again, letting her arms move lazily, tangling in her long purple skirt.
He could bet the fabric was enchanted, twirling so beautifully in the air like that. Harry stared for longer than he’d planned to, realizing much too late that Luna had already stopped and was eyeing him, her bright eyes fixed on Harry’s feet.
'Well, you’re already dancing’ she tugged at his sleeve, pulling him with her towards the center of the room. It wasn’t his fault that his feet wouldn’t obey his brain, choosing instead to follow the beat, - louder as Harry approached the crowd - tapping frantically to it. the absence of Ron and Hermione brought a weird feeling to his stomach. He downed the rest of his drink quickly, butterflies replacing the sensation immediately. If they could enjoy the night, so could him, he thought to himself, relaxing his shoulders as best as he could.
Harry opened his eyes without noticing he’d closed them, his whole body electrified with the feeling of being carried away by the music. Luna was dancing with Ginny now, her girlfriend, Harry had to remind himself, smiling a bit. If anyone else were to end up with Ginny, Harry would probably be a bit worried - after all he cared about her - but Luna was Luna, someone who treated Ginny like a flower, giving her the space she needed to grow.
The music changed again, a faster song now was drumming through the soles of his feet. Harry turned around, letting himself once again be sweapt away. He could blame in on the alcohol later.
And the drugs someone had put in his drink. Not just anyone, apparently, since Pansy kept giving him and Blaise that awful smile that could be easily translated as 'I’m being a Slytherin right now’. He looked at his feet for the tenth time in less than five minutes, the bloody thing tapping to that nauseating beat. Draco growled, marching towards the poorly improvised dance floor where his friend kept rubbing herselft all over Theo Nott.
'What did you put in it?’ Draco inquired, lifting his chin as high as he could to emphasize his height. Pansy rolled her eyes, her arms still hooked around Theo’s neck.
'Where?’ she turned around slightly to face Draco.
'My drink’ he forced the words to come out, all his strengh focused on keeping his feet still.
Pansy cackled, exchanging a knowing look with the other boy before returning her eyes to Draco. He was still frowning at her, distracted enough that he didn’t have time to fight back Theo’s tight grip on his waist.
Before he knew what was happening, Draco was dancing, squeezed between Pansy on his front and Nott on his back.
'Just relax, Draco’ she whispered in his ear, thankfully backing away a bit.
'You know you want this’ Theo whispered too, making the hair on his nape stand almost immediately. The boy took a step back, leaving enough space for Draco to run. Not that he would, he most certainly couldn’t.
The sensation was exhilarating. Dancing, he remembered himself, though what he knew about dancing had nothing to do with that. Wizards - well named wizards - took part at ballroom dancing, with proper pairs, slowly, not to the beat of muggle music in crowded spaces. What he was doing seemed so… dirty. He looked around, noticing how no one appeared to care about traditional morals at all. Most surprisingly, no one seemed to care that Draco didn’t care, because at that very moment, as the music resonated through him, he didn’t. He closed his eyes again, letting his head roll around his neck, the tension easily slipping away. So Draco danced, he danced like he expected his father to burst throught the portrait at any second to ruin everything. And when Pansy pushed another one of those - horrenduous - red cups in his hand, he downed it all in one go.
'Come’ Pansy guided him towards one corner of the room that seemed to be even more crowded than the dancefloor. A long wooden table, much like those found in the Great Hall, but a lot smaller, was circulated by students, whistling and shouting at-
'What the fuck’ Draco was sure he was gaping.
One of the Patil girls and Lavender Brown were dancing on top of it, their skirts so short Draco could bet those closer to the table could see everything underneath it. That was when he spotted a familiar face.
Blaise was on the front row, winking and smirking at Brown, who pretended not to notice him. Draco eyed Pansy, her anger tangible.
'Can’t let that bitch steal my boys, can I?’
Shit, Draco knew that look.
'Pansy-’ the girl ignored him, pulling at his sleeve and forcing her way through the mass until they reached the table.
'Just look at them, Draco, poor things’ It was obvious she wasn’t talking to him, her eyes fixed on Patil and Brown. From where they stood the girls could hear them perfectly, as it was proven when they both turned their attentions to Pansy, fumming.
'Fuck off, Parkinson’ Brown seemed wild, like she could jump Pansy at any moment. It was almost funny that they didn’t stop dancing despite the tension in the air.
'Are you afraid of a little competition, dear?’ Pansy’s smile was wicked and Draco couldn’t help the little smirk forming on his lips. Competition wasn’t exactly the right word for that, because Pansy wasn’t one to play fair.
Patil turned around to get out of the table, worried eyes darting from Pansy to her friend. Brown, however, didn’t seem like backing away, her hips continuously swaying as she blowed a kiss in Blaise’s direction. Blaise whistled, his dazzling smile encouraging Brown to come closer and she did, ignoring the Slytherin girl completely.
The sound of fabric being ripped in half was followed by something flying straight to Blaise’s face. Draco couldn’t see what it was at first, everyone around him trying to take a look as well while Pansy laughed so loud some of the students at the dancefloor were sending her curious looks.
Brown got out of the table immediately, her face livid with absolute rage, completely red from embarassment. Draco thought for a second she was going to hex them, but she turned around and ran upstairs to the girls room, followed by Patil who seemed horrified.
That was when Draco saw Blaise struggling to remove the pink knickers glued to his face.
'You wicked bitch’ Draco snorted, half amused and half disgusted. Pansy grinned at him, used to Draco’s sweet words after years of friendship.
A new song had started to play, the beat not as fast as the last one, but definitely sexier. Pansy took off her heels, throwing them carelessly to the side.
'You’re coming up with me'
She got up on the table, taking the Gryffindor’s place. Pansy danced like a Slytherin, which meant all eyes were glued on her the second she swayed her hips. Draco rolled his eyes, still too drunk to make rational decisions apparently, and followed her. It was… intimidating, if not terrifying, to have so many people staring at him from below. Empowering too, now that he could think about it. He started to move, smirking as a few of Pansy’s admirers turned their eyes to him instead, some completely shocked to see Draco Malfoy dancing on top of a table. Whatever, he didn’t have the energy to worry about it that night.
'Someone bring Harry!'
The words resonated inside his head and Draco felt all color leave his face. He searched the faces below him, desperately trying to identify who had said that.
Pansy kept dancing unfazed by his side. Maybe, if he was lucky, she wouldn’t notice if he disappeared in the middle of the crowd. He could try to run upstairs and spend the rest of-
The crowd opened in front of him so Finnigan could push Potter to the front row.
Green eyes locked with grey as the beat changed again.
No, Draco felt his face hot, his whole body fervent. That was the first time he’d seen Potter since the trial, in which he was condemned to house arrest until the begginig of his eighth year. Draco had had time to think, plenty of time and silence to think about what he’d done. What Potter had done. Gratitute wasn’t something Draco was ready to feel, but it’d assaulted him nonetheless. The thing was, allowing himself to feel thankful for what he’d done altered the whole way he saw Potter now.
No, he thought again, as Potter took a step forward.
He should run away, turn around and leave. Malfoy was right there in front of him, and he wasn’t ready. Those eyes were the only ones capable of seeing through him, making Harry feel small. He didn’t know why, after all it wasn’t like Malfoy felt any more confident them himself. He looked as desperate as Harry to leave, hide.
He took another step forward, the beat vibrating under his skin.
'Let’s see who does it better!’ Parkinson suddenly said, followed by a round of whistles and applauses. The girl jumped off the table after winking at Malfoy who seemed about to faint. 'You look scared, Potter. Think you can handle a dancing competition?’ Harry stared at her, gaping because even though Parkinson had already apologized to him, more than once after trying to hand him over to Voldemort the previous year, he was almost sure that didn’t classify them as friends now. She winked again, at him this time, gesturing towards the table.
Malfoy was still staring at him, his feet tapping to the beat contrasting with the rest of his tense body. The drugs, Harry thought to himself while Seamus practically threw him on top of the table. Malfoy had taken them too, apparently. That’s why he’s not running away either… he can’t.
Harry got up, the height enough to make him self aware of the huge amount of people staring expectantly at them. Fuck, why did that beat seem so different than the rest? He turned his head to the side, meeting Malfoy’s eyes again.
'It’s just dancing’ Harry found himself whispering, loud enough for Malfoy to hear, but not the front row of people. They were still staring at each other, making it seem like Harry’s words were meant to be some sort of confort to Malfoy when, in fact, Harry spoke them more to himself. Surprisingly, Malfoy’s shoulders relaxed a bit at that, his shocked expression distracting him enough that his body started moving again. Harry let it wash over him, the music replacing the anxiety bublling in his stomach. It was just dancing, and competing with Malfoy wouldn’t hurt, not this time.
'Is this the best you can do, Potter?’ the words sent electric waves to his body, firing him up like only Malfoy could. It didn’t matter that there were people staring at him, watching his every move. Malfoy had just challenged Harry, like old times and, fuck, he’d missed this.
His whole body turned towards the blond, instinctively, Harry’s hands flying to the hem of his hoody and yanking it from the top of his head. People cheered around him and Harry let a smirk form in his lips.
'You wish, Malfoy’
He knew the black shirt he had underneath was a bit too tight - who knew he’d be forced to take the bloody hoddie off - but the way Malfoy’s eyes roamed over his torso had Harry gulping with a dry throat.
'Like what you see?’ Fuck, what was wrong with him? The alcohol, Harry reminded himself resentfully.
Malfoy, however, took that as a challenge, not an offense as Harry had expected.
He swayed his hips, a wicked smile on his face, and took a step forward. 'Do you?’ his eyes were fixed on Harry’s again.
The thing was, there wasn’t that much space between them in the first place. Now, there was no space at all.
Malfoy swayed his hips again, brushing their thighs. People went wild with that, encouraging him when he opened the two last buttons of his shirt, exposing a tiny bit of his belly.
This can’t be Malfoy
Harry’s brain was short circuiting. Malfoy had that look on his face, wicked, completely in control, and this time Harry had to admit he was. Because the moment Malfoy stood with his back to everyone else and forced another button to pop open, offering a complete vision of his navel only for Harry to see, Harry’s body bucked forward without his consent, the heat of Malfoy’s skin radiating through the black fabric of Harry’s shirt where they touched.
With that, Harry wasn’t dancing against Malfoy anymore, he was dancing with him.
Malfoy’s arms came to rest on Harry’s shoulders, bringing them even closer. Harry could hear a few gasps, but they were muffled by the whistles and cheers.
It didn’t matter. He felt dizzy and couldn’t blame it on the drugs anymore. He couldn’t stop, they couldn’t stop, the beat so brilliant Harry could bet his heartbeat was in sync with it. And Malfoy… Malfoy was pressed against him, his hair tickling Harry’s cheek and his hot breath making Harry’s lips tingle.
Harry glanced around, realizing most people who had been watching them seemed to be as lost in the music as they were.
He wouldn’t waste a second this time.
Draco lost his balance when Potter suddenly backed away. He tried to even his breath, his mind a complete mess, trying to predict if Potter was going to hex him, or worse, mock him, when a firm grip on his wrist brough his attention back. Potter was pulling him with him, quietly signaling to one end of the table that seemed to be the only way out. Draco followed, much to his own surprise because who knew if Potter wasn’t going to hex him where no one could see?
Back to firm ground again, Draco was immediately pinned against the closest wall, the darkest corner of the room.
Potter kept moving, dancing against him.
'Malfoy… Can I-’
He bucked his hips again, the apparent bulge in his pants pressing against Draco’s in the best way possible. Draco gasped, his eyes never leaving Potter’s. It was dark, but not enough that he couldn’t see the way his pupils dilated when his hand pressed against Draco’s hard crotch through his pants.
His moan was muffled my Potter’s lips devouring his mouth, biting and licking like a hungry beast.
Their kiss was filled with all the tension both boys carried on their shoulders. It wasn’t soft, it was bruising, both of them relishing every trace of animosity and regret. Draco could feel himself burning and melting in it, at the way Harry’s hand dig his nails in his thigh, bringing it up around his hip; at the way Harry pressed against him, pinning Draco completely to the wall.
Potter backed away slightly, enough for them to breath before kissing him again, slower this time. Draco threaded his fingers in the black locks, bringing Harry as close as he could while his other thigh was lifted to wrap around Harry’s waist. Harry’s hand supported him there, firmly pressed against the wall and- Fuck, Draco felt the whole lengh of it, rubbing up and down, up and down against his-
'OKAY EVERYONE!! PARTY’S OVER!’
The lights were suddenly turned on, lighting up the common room completely. Several complaints arose from all sides, intensified when the music was gone.
It took Harry two seconds to realize that the force that was compelling him to dance was no longer there, and that it had nothing to do with his desire to press his body against Malfoy’s. What he did not know was if he should be relieved or scared when Malfoy did not seem to want to leave either, his hips rolling over Harry’s in the most delightful way possible, the friction sending small shocks of pleasure up his spine.
Someone gasped beside him, the noise enough to bring them both back to their senses. Their mouths parted, breaking the kiss and leaving Malfoy’s red and swollen lips to show as proof of what they had been doing, of what Harry had done.
He’d kissed Malfoy. Harry Potter had kissed Draco Malfoy willingly. There were no drugs, just the enchanted music, he realized, and it wasn’t enough to explain why he felt that pang in his chest when Malfoy turned around and ran, leaving Harry to face all his shocked classmates alone.