von Resimesdra
~Do I have to say it again? Title: Muse. ;)~
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Yes, the big sap's back. Should I tell you now that writing this eats up all my positive energy, leaving me to only write depressive emo-stuff otherwise? Ah, what I put up with for the sake of some little romance...^^
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Harry didn’t know what to do. He’d been tormenting Draco with call after call for the last two days, each a little more revealing about how desperate he was becoming. Frankly, he didn’t care anymore whether Draco could sense his despair, because he figured that it was too late in the game to worry about keeping his dignity anymore. He was already in over his head, and he knew it. What difference would it make if Draco knew so too? Harry mused that at this point of the story, showing the boy everything was the only way to save what there was left to save. And Harry would have gladly given anything, if only it would help him to get back the wonderful and serene time he’d had with Tristan, or rather, Draco.
No, Harry didn’t worry about making an even bigger fool of himself than he already had – but he did worry about the fact that Draco hadn’t picked up the phone. Not once. And he didn’t return Harry's calls, either. And this was really starting to put Harry on edge. He’d rather have Draco bluntly tell him that he never wanted to see or have anything to do with him again than this unnerving silence. Hell, he didn’t even know whether Draco had listened to a single one of the barmy messages Harry had left on his answering machine. Perhaps he wasn’t even home, and Harry couldn’t shake the unsettling feeling that with each passing day that they grew further apart, it became more and more improbable that Draco would turn back to him.
But what was he supposed to do? He didn’t even know where Draco lived, let alone where he liked to go. Harry found it a bit bemusing that they had been talking to each other on the phone for that long a time – and still he didn’t actually know anything about the person he assumedly loved. If he just had asked him some more questions, had been a little more inquisitive – perhaps he would even have figured out the truth earlier. Perhaps this would have spared them the trouble they were in now. Why hadn’t he been more receptive, more curious about Draco’s life?
He was just on the train of wondering whether this meant he really was a self-centered egomaniac after all, when the doorbell rang, startling him out of his silent brooding. Harry sat up on his bed, where he’d been lying (he spent an awful lot of time lying on his back staring at ceilings these days) and frowned. Who could that be? It was a late Thursday afternoon, he wasn't expecting anyone to come by; and not even the delivery service was due.
Harry sighed and got to his feet. Perhaps it was one of his fellow students. Harry wasn’t particularly close with any of them, but he did get along quite well with some, blokes as well as birds, and they’d already spent some free time together. Perhaps they’d been worried about him because he hadn’t shown up at his courses all week.
Harry didn’t actually feel like having any company right now, since he’d much rather keep on dwelling upon the subject of his apparent selfishness leading to the painful loss of his love, but then again he figured that getting a little distracted would most certainly do him some good. Perhaps he would even be able to think about something besides Draco for a few minutes. Not very likely, but still an option.
Harry padded to the door, wearing merely a pair of black drawstring trousers and a white, blotched muscle shirt since he really hadn’t been in the mood to dress up, and opened it.
And then, some evil little bugger must have hit him with a Petrify spell, because he suddenly froze in place. Harry was sure that even his heartbeat and breath were on hold, not to mention his brain, where only a dull humming sound could be heard.
Draco Malfoy was standing on his doorstep.
Error. System overload. Strike any key when ready.
“Hey,” Draco said, sounding a little uncertain, which was probably due to the expression Harry’s face was sporting that very moment, suggesting he was a toad that had just been driven over by a centaur on a unicycle.
“Hey,” Harry managed with severe difficulty, his tongue feeling like a gummy bear that has been lying behind the radiator for about a year.
Draco gave a nervous little laugh that sounded much like a cough. But Harry preferred thinking of it as a laugh nonetheless. “I was planning to jump your bones and smother you with kisses the very second you opened the door, but now I’m reconsidering. This moment is too fucking awkward for me to do something that daring.”
“Eh,” Harry said intelligently, desperately trying to kick his brain back into action so he could start to process what the hell was going on. Draco had wanted to kiss him?
Draco looked up at him with those big grey eyes and Harry’s heart liquefied in his chest. “Can I come in anyway?”
Harry very nearly dropped over his own feet with eagerness to both open the door wider and get out of the way for Draco to come in, but he managed. Barely. Draco stepped inside, taking a quick look around at the mess Harry called apartment, looking as edgy and excited as Harry felt.
Harry hastily cleared the couch of a heap of clothes and gestured Draco to sit down, which the boy did, albeit a bit reluctantly. Harry, having disposed of his armful of clothes by carelessly throwing them into the bathroom, dropped down in the armchair opposite of him. He would have liked nothing better than snuggle up to Draco, hold him tight and never let go – but Draco was right. The situation was fucking awkward.
“So,” Draco finally broke the silence that had endured for what felt like an eternity to both of them. Then he obviously lost track of what he’d been about to say, and so he shut his mouth again with an almost audible click.
“Yeah,” Harry added, equally clueless as to what to say. He was too overwhelmed with everything to be subtle or pensive, so he just blurted out the next thing that sprang to his mind. “Why are you here?”
Draco ran a nervous hand through his adorably messy hair, and Harry watched in awe as the pink tip of his tongue darted out to wet his surprisingly full lips. “I thought that was pretty much self-explanatory,” he finally said, and Harry’s heart leapt in his throat with excitement.
“What do you mean? Do you mean what I think you mean, or am I just jumping to conclusions in regard to your meaning? I mean, am I projecting my wishful thinking into your statements, and therefore entirely mistaking your meaning?”
Draco stared at him in shock. “I… what?!”
Harry blushed. “I mean… no, what do you mean?”
Draco’s bottom lip was sucked in between his teeth, and Harry could see how the flesh was staked between his incisors. “You know why I’m here. Don’t you?” Draco took a deep breath. “Harry?”
For the second time in less than twenty minutes, Harry was short of a seizure, and he was fairly sure that this could not be a good thing. But fuck, Draco had just called him Harry. It had been timid, shy, and almost inaudible – but it had been there, and it had been real, and it was more than Harry would have hoped for.
“So,” he breathed, hardly daring to speak for fear of destroying the moment by saying something stupid. “So you’re okay with this? You don’t mind it’s me?”
Draco squirmed in his seat. “Well… I guess, saying that I don’t mind would be taking it a bit far. But… oh fuck it, I told you I already had a thing for you when we were still at school, didn’t I?”
Harry nodded, not quite sure what Draco was trying to say.
Draco sighed. “I just wish… I wish you wouldn’t have found out like that, you know? It’s bloody embarrassing, understand? Let alone all the fucked up things I did when we were… you know.” His face had taken on a brilliant shade of red by the time he’d finished, and Harry couldn’t stop the goofy grin from creeping on his lips.
“Oh, Draco,” he finally said. “If only you knew. That was the fucking hottest thing I’ve ever experienced. I wasn’t lying when I told you that.”
Draco was back to biting his lips. “And you don’t mind it being with me? Aren’t you… grossed out or something?”
Harry smiled at him. “You know what I thought when I saw you at the fountain that day?”
Draco frowned. “You mean, before you went and made fun of me?”
Harry had the good grace to look a bit sheepish. “Uhm… yeah. Well, I just had to. I wanted to talk to you, no matter what, and I couldn’t very well tell you that I thought you’d grown up to be the hottest bloke I’ve ever seen, now could I?”
Draco’s suspicious eyes widened in blissful surprise. “That’s what you thought?”
Harry shook his head. “You have no idea. I was so close to calling Tristan and telling him that something had come up. Merlin, I would’ve liked nothing better than throw you right onto the next bench and have my wicked way with you, no matter who bothered to watch.”
Draco gasped, torn between feelings of flattered joy as well as miffed disappointment. “And here I thought you weren’t one of the shallow guys only looking for a shag,” he said, only half-jokingly.
Harry sobered up a bit at that and sat up more straight. “I didn’t cancel the date after all, did I? In fact, I still can’t believe my luck – I mean, here I am, the boy on my phone being the cutest and most loveable bloke I know, and the boy next to me being the most desirable, sexiest guy I’ve seen in a long time, and seeing that both turned out to be the same person… I’d say that’s just perfect. I found the perfect body for the perfect character; I should be the luckiest man on earth.”
Draco was completely flattened. “You…you thought I was perfect?” he finally asked, voice shaking with disbelief.
Harry smiled warmly at him. “I still do. And very much so.”
Draco swallowed, almost painfully. He could tell that Harry was being serious, and this was the most affectionate thing anybody had ever said to him. He’d never felt as… wanted as he did now, and not just for his wealth or reputation or even looks, but for who he was, instead. Just for the person he was, nothing that came with it. He felt so completely at peace with himself, filled with a wonderful warmth from the inside, warmth that seemed to be radiating from him like he was a stove, and it lit up his entire being. If someone had told him before that one day Harry Potter would make him silently thank his mother for giving birth to him, that Harry Potter would make him feel as though his chest was too narrow for the swelling of his heart – Draco would have considered them mental.
Harry watched the display of emotions with rapt fascination. Almost unconsciously, he slid off the armchair and scooted closer to Draco on his knees, never taking his eyes off of the beautiful face in front of him.
“Draco?” he whispered hoarsely. “I would like to… would you mind if I… may I… can I… uhm…” He never made it to the end of his sentence, because suddenly, Draco was leaning in and their lips met in their first kiss.
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Harry was vaguely aware that Draco was crying while they were kissing, and that his hot and slightly salty tears were running down towards their mouths, adding an altogether different taste to their kiss – but Harry didn’t care. This was bliss, this was heaven, this was ultimately it. Memories of Cho Chang blubbering into their kiss swiftly crossed Harry’s mind, but that had been nothing like this.
The revelation only served to Harry’s theory that it had never been the tears bothering him in the first place, but he pushed the thought away almost viciously, only concentrating on their wonderful task at hand. Draco’s lips were soft and moist against his, his tongue a bit shy but curious, ever so slightly nudging against Harry’s from time to time and then timidly pulling back, and Harry did his best to respond equally careful, not wanting to be too forceful or demanding on their first time.
It quickly dawned on him that Draco was a rather inexperienced kisser – but what he lacked in knowledge about technique, he made up with true devotion and a fierce desire to learn. And besides, knowing that he was probably the first man Draco ever kissed served to make Harry all giddy and happily nervous like a schoolgirl.
When they finally pulled away, Harry’s eyes had hazed over and his heart was beating so fast he was slowly getting out of breath. He was ashamed to notice the pleasant throbbing in his lap that was his growing erection – after all, it seemed highly inappropriate to get aroused in such a tender and emotional moment.
But then he noticed that Draco, cheeks flushed, tried to inconspicuously adjust his own trousers so that Harry wouldn’t notice (at which he – obviously – failed), and Harry felt some of the embarrassment at his excitement cease. Draco caught him staring, and pursed his lips in partially faked annoyance.
“Well,” he said, sounding somewhat defensive. “What do you expect from a twenty year old gay that has never kissed another boy before? Just be glad I didn’t pop off already.”
Harry smirked. “I think it’s wonderful,” he said, shifting a little so that Draco could see the telltale bulge in his drawstrings (which were absolute crap at hiding a boner, Harry silently mused). “As was the kiss, as you can easily see.”
Draco’s eyes dropped down to the impressive tent in Harry’s lap, and he gulped nervously. Did Harry expect him to do something about that? Not that he was entirely opposed to the idea, but… well, it just looked so…big, even when it was still trapped in his underwear and trousers. And despite the quite persistent pulsing in his own erection, the thought of already doing something with another man… with Harry, no less … touching him… was as frightening as it was arousing.
Luckily, Harry seemed to sense Draco’s unease, since he stopped the display of his enlarged genitals and sat back up, slightly leaning in so that his torso was covering most of his bits and Draco could tear his eyes away. “I’m sorry, Draco,” he said, sounding by all means as if he truly was. “I didn’t mean to scare you or anything, I don’t want to push you into something you’re not ready for. I said so before, and I meant it.”
Draco felt a heated rush of blood to his face, even through the wave of gratitude and relief washing over him at Harry’s words. “’m sorry,” he mumbled, not quite feeling fit to look at Harry. “Don’t want you to think I’m prude or something.”
He looked up when he felt a soft, hesitant touch at his knee. Harry was staring at him with big green eyes. “Hey. Don’t say such things, okay? I won’t think ill of you, even if you make me wait ages before I can touch you. I just know that you’re worth it. Even though it won’t be easy…”
Draco gave him a sly smirk to paper over the enthusiastic beating of his heart, and Harry’s eyes grew even wider. “Oh my God. Don’t tell me you’re actually planning on making me wait that long?!”
Draco’s smirk grew bolder as he wriggled his eyebrows suggestively. “Don’t dare me, Potter. You know how that one tends to turn out.”
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TBC
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