Harry and Draco were sitting together on a couch watching "Better Off Dead", hoping inspiration would hit. Well, it was either that or pray the tv would explode so Draco could shove Harry out of harm's way. Neither of them were actually willing to admit to a surreptitious, very sneaky, sexually-charged and wholly unexpected friendship that had developed between them in the last month. Harry had surreptitiously scooted himself closer to Draco during the movie so that their thighs were now touching. His head was precariously close to Draco's shoulder.
"This is crap," Draco stated bluntly. "We've already tried the bit with the toaster, but it was unplugged at the time so it didn't count; I tried hurling the Bludger at you but it turned out to be a Boomerang Bludger and I just got a broken nose," He ticked off the failures on his fingers. "Someone else untied you from the railroad tracks a good half hour before the train came. Hey, does that mean you now owethem a life debt?"
"Probably," said Harry.
"Oh," said Draco, comforted. "That's alright then. But hey, tell 'em to sod off for a while, yeah? My turn first." He ran his fingers through his hair, and Harry resisted the urge to do the same. Draco really did have beautiful hair. He wondered if it was as soft as it looked. "D'you think you could let yourself almost be run over by a bus or something and then I could swoop in and save you at the last possible moment?"
"It's worth a shot," Harry said agreeably, nuzzling against Draco's hair as non-obviously as he could.
"Really? You'd trust me to get the timing right?"
"Well, yeah. Mm, your sweater is soft."
"It should be; it's cashmere," Draco said, smug and inordinately pleased that Harry approved of his sweater. He didn't need Potter's approval when the boy was practically colorblind and hopeless when it came to fashion; still, warmth coiled in his gut at Harry's head on his shoulder.
"How on earth do you keep yourself in designer clothes? I thought your family was, er, in disgrace."
"I sell my body to bored, rich Korean women on the weekends," Draco said flippantly, and then laughed when Harry's head fell into his lap. "No, Harry, before you ask, I don't really." Harry visibly relaxed. "It's bored, rich Liverpudlian men, actually."
"Ha, ha," said Harry.
"I'm glad you find my dire plight and ultimate prostitution amusing."
"Someone has to. Might as well be me." Draco elbowed him in the ribs.
"Ow."
They perused public transportation maps for the busiest intersection in London and tried it, but no bus was going to hit the Boy Who Defeated the Dark Lord Once and For ALL. They all screeched to a halt a good twenty feet from him in alarm, and the drivers all got out and apologized profusely despite the fact that he was the one standing in the middle of a busy intersection holding a sign that read "Hit Me".
"Well," said Harry philosophically, "at least we know the bus drivers in London are paying attention."
Draco covered his face with his hands. Gertrude cooed sympathetically.
Harry was incredibly startled late Sunday night, when he answered the persistent knocking on his front door, to find Draco Malfoy standing in the door frame, hands in his pockets and a lopsided grin on his face.
"Hey," he said, making his way past Harry into the living room. He flopped down bonelessly on the couch, flicked the lamps down to his preferred dim lighting and idly transfigured Harry's remote control into a very confused-looking tortoise.
"Put that down," Harry said automatically, "Muggle technology and magic really don't mix and I don't know if it'll go back…" He tried to undo Draco's work, but the tortoise remained- its shell had lots of little grey buttons on it.
"Oops," said Draco, unrepentant. Harry wondered if he could still operate the tortoise as a remote for his television. He picked it up and aimed it at the tv: the resulting image was that of the activities of his neighbors down the hall. He blinked.
"Well, that's… interesting."
"I had no idea your neighbors were so kinky, Potter," Draco said. He sounded like he approved. Harry ran a hand through his hair and sighed, sitting down next to Draco on the couch.
"What are you doing here, Draco?" He asked. "It's Sunday. Isn't Tuesday designated 'save my life' day? You're early."
The other man shrugged a shoulder.
"I didn't feel like waiting. And anyway, I'm not here to save your life. I got bored. Thought I'd challenge you to Wizard's Chess."
"Oh. Alright then," Harry said, agreeing. "I'll trample all over you."
"Hardly," Draco scoffed. "I learned from the best."
Several hours later, the two were at an impossible stalemate, and they'd stopped paying as much attention to the game and were asking each other various questions to stall for strategy time. Their knees were touching under the small card table and Harry was trying desperately to stop laughing so he could hear the end of Draco's story.
"And then she tried to feed me to the Giant Squid," Draco was saying, "and that's when I knew that not only was Pansy clinically insane, much like Aunt Bella, but that I'd lost all interest in furthering the Malfoy line if it was going to involve strange mating rituals and sea monsters. So I took up with blokes. Oh, and I decided I'd better learn how to swim." Harry wiped a tear from the corner of his eye.
"That's brilliant."
"What about you, then?" Draco asked, shrewdly eyeing Harry from across the table. His eyes gleamed in the half-light.
"What about me?"
"When did you abandon the Weaselette for those of the more attractive persuasion? Or vice versa?"
"I, uh…" Harry blushed and looked away. "I don't really remember."
"Sure you do. I bet I can guess more or less how it happened. You held her in your arms, all soft and small and fragile vulnerability begging for you to be her hero and protect her, and you knew you couldn't be what she wanted. You started to wonder how it would feel to touch someone who wouldn't break, someone who was just as strong as you and just as likely to grip too tight or bite too hard. Am I right so far?" Harry bowed his head and muttered, "Go on." Draco smiled, all teeth.
"You wondered what it would be like to have someone's stubble scratching against your jawline as he kissed you, rather than too-smooth skin that bruised like a peach. You wanted nails running down your back and low guttural moans that matched yours. You started looking around at other men, wondering for the first time what they looked like under their clothes and what they'd be like to kiss, whether they'd be aggressive or submissive." Harry shifted uncomfortably in his chair. Suddenly his lips felt very dry and he worried at his bottom lip with his teeth, wondering how Draco suddenly knew so much. Draco looked back at him, steady, knowing. He stood and pushed back his chair, moving around the card table to stand behind Harry, who suddenly found he couldn't move. Even if he'd wanted to, which he didn't. Currently he was hoping that if he stayed very still, Draco wouldn't lash out sudden and deadly and strike.
"And then your thoughts became more specific," Draco said slowly by Harry's ear. "Don't tell me you've never wondered what it would be like to kiss me, feel my tongue tangling with yours as my hips pin you to a wall." Harry's eyes widened in shock at Draco's bold words. If he was being honest with himself, he was aroused, too. "Tell me you never thought once about running your hands through my hair, seeing my pupils dilate with desire for you as my hands cupped that perfect ass of yours. Tell me you haven't envisioned yourself spread before me as I crawl toward you on a bed, predatory, and mark you with red bruises where I've sucked the blood to the surface with my kiss." Harry shook his head. He couldn't tell Draco that. It would be lying, and he knew lying was wrong.
"You're panting now just hearing me talk about it, because you've thought about that, too," Draco said smoothly. His breath was so warm on Harry's neck, but he didn't touch him with anything but words. "You've wondered what's under the immaculately tailored and groomed exterior, whether my Seeker's body is anything like yours, how we'd fit together." His voice dropped to a low velvety growl. "You're not the only one." Harry swallowed hard and turned to look at the other man, wariness, guilt and desire warring for control of his features.
"So." Draco spread his hands. "I'm here for the taking. Tell me what you want, Harry. All you have to do is ask."
"Draco," he groaned. "For Merlin's sake…"
"Yes?" He looked back at Harry, all carefully arranged innocence.
"Shut up and kiss me. Now." Draco's eyebrows lifted.
"And if I don't?" Harry shook with the overwhelming force of wanting and needing when he admitted,
"I think I'll die." With that, they were pulled together like magnets, slamming into each other with the bruising force of a kiss. Harry's hands tangled in Draco's hair and pulled his head back so he could touch and kiss and lick and bite his way across jawline and ear and neck, and Draco's hands were reaching down and squeezing Harry's ass without any pretense of doing otherwise. They were clutching at each other as if they were trying to crawl inside each other's skin through their tonsils, and it was very unwillingly when Harry finally came up for air to gasp at Draco's teeth on the side of his neck. The other man smiled, lazy and self-satisfied.
"Do you want to-" Harry began, breathless. Draco cut him off.
"There. Life debt discharged."
"What?"
"You said you'd die if I didn't kiss you. Now I've saved your life, and we're even." He smiled wanly and started to turn away. Harry didn't let him make it three full steps before he tackled him to the ground.
"Oh, no, you don't. You can't just start something like that and not finish it."
"Ah. So this is just about sex, then." Harry hit him.
"No, you complete twat. I want you and I like you."
"Lucky me, then," Draco said, and sounded like he might even mean it. Harry didn't have too much time to worry about it, however, as he was being thoroughly snogged again. In the back corner of his mind he thought that he'd have to save people's lives more often, if this was the sort of reward he could come to expect. But really, he knew that Draco was the only prize he wanted.