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Harry opened his eyes at the sound of faint rustling. He picked up his glasses from beside his pillow and silently slid them on with one hand; the other reached out to open the curtains just a crack.
Draco slipped between his bed curtains rather than pull them open and padded over to his wardrobe on bare feet. He took down the uniform he had hung over the doors the night before, draping it over his arm, picked up his shoes and a small black silk bag. Harry suspected it had an undetectable extension charm on it because he'd never seen Draco take anything else and he only kept his hair potions in the bathroom.
The door gave it a faint click as Draco eased it shut. Harry laid back down until he heard the shower start then sat back up, shoving his curtains open.
Harry dragged his feet off the side of his bed with a groan and scrubbing his hands through his hair. All round their tiny tower room, tall narrow windows cast gashes of light on the walls. He stared around their little double room. Two beds with a table with two drawers between them, two tall, thin wardrobes on either side of the beds, and beside the wardrobes, two desks, one neat and organised, one chaotically strewn with papers and books, and between the desks, the small door to their shared bathroom. It had been months, but Harry still wasn't used to the way all the furniture curved to fit against the round walls, even the headboards of their beds.
The door to the bathroom finally reopened letting out a cloud of sweet-smelling steam and Draco in his uniform and robes; black shoes polished to a shine. His hair was still just slightly damp and fell around his ear in a silver blond cascade as Harry watched.
Draco paused to push it back with an annoyed sigh. When he finally noticed Harry, a slight twitch was the only sign that Harry had startled him.
“Good morning, Potter,” Draco said after a moment's hesitation, “The shower's free.” He shifted his weight, and the narrow line of light that had been across his chest moved up and caressed his cheek. “I didn't mean to take so long.”
“It's fine; I just woke up,” Harry said.
Draco nodded and went to his desk, retrieving his bag, and Harry got to his feet and went into the bathroom, slowly letting out a breath he didn't realise he'd been holding.
Harry stared blankly at the flagstones as they passed underfoot, biting his thumbnail.
Ron shifted over, bumping Harry with his shoulder, “You listening at all, mate?”
“Wha-?” Harry looked up guiltily, “Sorry, what were you saying?”
Ron shrugged, “Just chatting about charms. What's up with you then? You've been quiet since breakfast.”
Harry sighed and admitted reluctantly, “I can't help thinking Draco's hiding something.”
Hermione almost missed her stride, hopping a little to catch up, “I thought you and Malfoy were getting along?”
Harry grimaced, “I mean we were, technically still are, but he...”
“Just because a bloke has a suspicious ferrety face doesn't mean he's actually up to anything,” Ron said. He yawned, stretching his arms over his head, “Sides, Malfoy is shit at being evil.”
“I'm not saying he's up to something evil,” Harry said.
“Just up to something,” Hermione said raising her eyebrows.
Ron slung an arm over Harry's shoulder, “So build a case for it. It'll be good practice for when we're proper aurors.”
“He always changes in the bathroom-”
“Nev did too,” Ron interrupted, “Some people are just shy.”
“I wasn't finished,” Harry said, “He gets up early to do it, and at night he'll wait until he thinks I'm asleep to put on his pyjamas.”
“My point still stands though,” Ron said.
“He's got this bag and I'm positive it's got an undetectable extension charm on it but he's rigged it so only he can open it,” Harry said.
Hermione gasped, “You went through his things!?”
“I only tried the bag, nothing else!” Harry said defensively.
Hermione glared at him, “That's no excuse!”
Ron grimaced, “Went a bit too far, mate.”
“He acts suspicious!” Harry said stubbornly, “Of course I'm gonna suspect someone who acts like they're hiding something!”
“Harry. He's not dangerous so just leave it alone. Leave him alone.” Hermione sighed, a worried pinch between her eyes, “Nothing is going to happen this year. You know?”
“I know,” Harry muttered.
“Then stop looking,” Hermione said.
Ron squeezed his shoulder, “It's gonna be alright from here on out, mate. You'll see. The last thing you need to worrying about is Malfoy.”
Harry started awake, his hand slapping over his buzzing wand to turn it off. He checked that the silencing charms he'd put up last night had held and then reinforced them anyway. He put on his dressing gown and his warmest socks, then proceeded to shove conjured pillows under his blankets in the vague shape of a person, just in case.
Harry knew it was a bit mad.
He just... he just needed to know.
Once he knew, then everything would be fine. He was certain of it.
Harry pulled on his invisibility cloak and carefully cast silencing charms over himself. It was just barely dawn when Harry stepped out into their tower room, wincing at the cold floor and taking a deep breath of air that smelled like frost. He tugged the curtains closed behind him and tiptoed to the bathroom, easing the door open and then shut again, holding his breath and wincing at every little sound.
The bathroom was small. Harry pressed his back against the wall, behind where the door opened and took out his wand. He'd practised for nearly two hours and pretty much had the knack of it now.
“Notice me not,” he murmured, focusing only the half circle he stood in. Then he cast a warming charm on himself and softening spell under his feet before pulling his robe and cloak more tightly around himself to wait. Draco would be up in about an hour.
His feet were cold.
But he couldn't renew his heating charm in case Draco came in and felt the radiant heat.
And the longer he stood in a dark bathroom, the more he felt like an utter twat.
He should just go. Leave things alone like Hermione said. He could have a warm shower and skip Hagrid's class for an extra couple hours of sleep. Pretend he hadn't gone mad and decided to lurk about in a bathroom to spy on his roommate who was probably just-
There was a creak as Draco stepped inside, flicking his wand to turn on the lights. He eased the door shut, trying not to make noise and then leaned back against it with a sigh, scrubbing his hands over his face. He hung his uniform up on the hook on the back of the door, carelessly dropping his shoes on the floor, so one flipped under the sink, and set his little black bag on the edge of the counter.
Harry pressed his back against the wall, all too aware of his own breathing even though it made no noise.
Draco's hair was sticking up on one side, and he frowned at himself in the mirror, pressing it down with one hand, which worked annoyingly. His fingers worked over the buttons on his black silk shirt; fumbling and slow as he yawned. The silk slipped off one shoulder then the other, exposing a long neck and smooth, strong back. His skin was pale and flawless.
Harry was transfixed by the way his shoulder blades moved under the skin and the line of his spine tracing its way down his back. He shivered, heat flooding his body, pooling at the base of his spine. There was a part of his mind that was desperately screaming at him to close his eyes, to even turn away; this wasn't why he was here, this wasn't part of anything. But-
Draco laid his shirt over the edge of the sink and tugged at the tie holding his pyjama bottoms on He hooked his thumbs in the waistband and slid them off his hips, carefully stepping out of them, so they didn't fall on the floor.
Harry sucked in a shaky breath. He'd never properly stared at a bloke's arse before. And his legs- fuck. Draco's legs were long and gorgeous, strong thighs and perfectly shaped calves.
Harry squeezed his eyes shut and desperately tried to press down his growing erection. He heard the shower turn on, water splashing and-
Draco huffed, and there was a sound of- of-
Harry's eyes flew open. A ward was all that separated the shower from the rest of the room, an invisible ward that only stopped water. Water sluiced down Draco's head over his chest and back, the heat of it flushing his skin pink and making rolling clouds of steam.
Draco leaned on his weight on one arm braced on the wall, his eyes squeezed closed as his other hand moved over his hard cock. He swiped his thumb over the head, and his face twitched, his mouth falling open. Despite the echoing sound of the water, all Harry could seem to hear was the sounds coming from Draco. The faint gasps and groans were the loudest of all.
Harry squeezed himself through his pyjama bottoms, squirming against the rough cotton and biting his bottom lip hard enough to taste blood. He had never been harder in his entire life.
Draco tilted his head back as his hand sped up, squeezing his eyes shut and, coming with a groan that made Harry's cock jolt, precome soaking into his sleep pants. Harry reached out and grasped the edges of his cloak tightly shut.
Draco had moved on to washing his hair and Harry was able to calm himself down, at least a bit, though his erection stubbornly refused to go down. It certainly didn't help at all he could see was Draco Malfoy washing a soapy flannel over himself in a way that ought to be illegal. He wished he could just close his eyes, but the image of Draco coming seemed to be permanently burned into the back of his eyelids.
Harry sagged in relief when Draco finally turned off the shower, stepping out and scrubbing a towel over his head as he cast a drying charm over his body.
Draco was in no rush to get dressed and stood naked, slowly towelling his hair dry in front of the sink before tossing the towel on the floor. He did a shaving charm though Harry couldn't see a lick of stubble on his chin. Finally, Draco pulled open the ties on his little black bag and reached his arm deep inside, pulling out a small pot of lotion or cream that he put on the counter, followed by another and another.
And Harry felt like a complete wanker. Of course, Draco Malfoy had a stupidly elaborate bath routine, and that would explain why he got up early and why he had a bag for everything, that many pots and potions wouldn't have fit on the sink if he tried to leave them.
The pots of creams were put away and replaced with a hair product and a cologne that left a subtle hint of a spicy muskiness in the air. Draco finished fussing with his hair and Harry thought that would be last of it, but Draco reached even deeper into the bag and carefully drew out three fancy dress boxes. They were each an inch thick, about the length and width of a large book in a creamy off-white colour. There was something stamped in a curling silver script on top, but Harry couldn't read it from where he was standing.
Draco opened each box just a bit, glancing at the contents with a frown then put them back in his bag and retrieved another three boxes to peek through, the second of which he apparently liked. He took the lid off and lifted out a pair of silky, steel-blue knickers edged with slightly darker blue lace. He stepped into them, slipping them up his long legs, fingers sliding down to pull the smooth material over his bum.
Harry's heart seemed to have moved to his throat.
Draco put on a matching garter belt that rested slightly above his hips, pale blue ribbons skimming across his thighs when he moved. He sat on the closed toilet lid and put his feet on the towel he had dropped on the floor, taking a stocking from the box and carefully gathering it up in his hand until he could slip his toes in. He slid the nearly sheer silk over his calves and up his thighs. Whenever he moved, Harry could see a blue tint to the hose
Draco stood and attached the garter clasps to the thin material with practised ease, adjusting the ribbons until they were slightly taut. He grabbed his wand from the counter and summoned his shoes, slipping them on and then transfiguring them into shiny black stilettos that made his arse positively breathtaking. He conjured a full-length mirror right beside Harry and studied himself in the reflection, pushing his hair back, turning and cocking out a hip just so with a self-satisfied smirk. He ran his hand over his thighs and arse and up over the lace garter belt.
Then he sighed and vanished the mirror, turning his shoes back into oxfords and put on his uniform and robes, until the lace and silk were hidden beneath layers of cotton and wool like they'd never been. Draco checked his hair in the mirror one last time, picked up his things and left.
He turned off the lights as he went, leaving Harry in darkness as his legs gave out and he slipped down the wall. Harry shoved down his pyjamas and fisted his cock with a shudder.
Harry remembered how Draco looked in the shower, his skin slick with water.
Outside Draco's wardrobe opened and closed as he put away his things.
Harry remembered Draco pulling on sheer tinted stockings up one leg, then the other, so agonisingly slowly.
And outside, Draco picked his bag up off his desk and looped it over his shoulder.
And Harry remembered how Draco looked in black stilettos, running his hands over skin and intricate lace.
There was a muffled click as the door to the dorm closed behind Draco.
In the dark, Harry came so hard his whole body shook.
His imagination seemed to get caught in a loop of that morning, it played in fantasies, in his dreams and in class more often than he would ever admit, thank Merlin for robes hiding uncomfortable erections. Erections that he kept getting even when he wanked every day, two or three times a day, not counting the times he woke with damp pants in the morning like he was thirteen years old again.
He couldn't take a shower without imagining Draco in there with him, standing behind him, touching him with thorough, meticulous hands. At night he fantasised about Draco stepping out of the bathroom in nothing but silk and lace and joining Harry in his bed.
And his dreams-
His dreams were-
Illuminating.
One dream in particular; it started like a memory, with Draco putting on his lingerie in the bathroom except at some point, earlier and earlier with every repetition, Harry was the one wearing the delicate clothing. He stood in front of sink and Draco dressed him, hands and fingers sliding over Harry's skin with a reverence that made him tremble.
Harry spent his mornings in a fog of lingering desire until he'd see himself reflected in the mirror. Draco was so elegant, poised and beautiful and Harry was just, ordinary.
He stretched his hands out in front of himself. They were rough, his fingers blunt, and his brown skin marred by the fading 'I will not tell lies' left by Umbridge. Nothing special, maybe his eyes, but certainly nothing especially attractive, nothing that would look good in garters and stockings. But he couldn't stop thinking about it.
“What did you want to talk about, Harry?” Hermione asked.
Harry jolted out of his thoughts.
Hermione slowly shut the door behind her, frowning in concern, “Is it about why you've been so distracted lately?”
“I- yeah,” Harry said, rubbing the back of his neck.
Hermione crossed the dusty floor, looking around the disused room in confusion, “Is something wrong?”
“Nothing's wrong,” Harry said quickly and suddenly wished he hadn't asked her to come at all but he knew he couldn't let it go either. “It's just, erm, embarrassing... I didn't know who else to ask.”
Hermione opened her mouth to say something but thought better of it and just nodded.
Harry smiled gratefully. “Would you-” he cleared his throat nervously, “Um, do you know where someone might buy lingerie, like stockings and fancy knickers, that sort of thing?”
“Is this for someone or-?” Hermione asked carefully.
Harry looked down at the floor, “myself.”
“Okay,” Hermione said quietly. She touched his arm, pulling Harry's gaze back, “I know someone who buys things like that for people.”
Harry's chest squeezed, and he felt faintly breathless, “Do you think they'd help? Would they tell anyone?”
Hermione thought for a second. “She wouldn't tell anyone-” she grimaced, “-but she's the type to enjoy knowing.”
“What's that mean? Blackmail? Or-?”
Hermione sighed, “No... it's just this horrible smug look she has. I don't think it will bother you much.”
Harry blinked in surprise, wondering why Hermione would know about the other girl's smug- Ah. His cheeks flushed hot, “You-?”
Hermione's face scrunched up, and she smacked his arm, “Oh, don't. I just saw the book she orders out of, and I thought Ron might look-”
“Stopstopstop!” Harry said waving his hands, “Merlin! I really don't want to know any more about- ergh- anything.”
Hermione relaxed and smiled sheepishly, “As long as you know, there's nothing wrong with being interested in that sort of thing. I think everyone is a bit odd and that's just fine.”
Harry huffed in relief, “Yeah.”
“So, I'll talk to her and set up a meeting,” Hermione said.
Harry smiled, “Thanks, Hermione.”
Harry looked around Hermione's dorm. All the eighth years had been randomly paired up and scattered around the castle like dandelion fluff. Hermione had lucked out and got a teacher's private room. It was a rectangle to start, and bigger than his dorm, with room for two armchairs and a small table beside a personal fireplace. He couldn't remember who she was rooming with, but the other girl seemed to have nearly as many clothes, pots and potions as Hermione had notes and books. Between the two of them, they had taken up most of the extra space provided by the larger room.
He briefly sat on the edge of Hermione's bed then stood, restlessly pacing the room and going over to the fireplace. He stared at the fire and forced himself to sit on one of the armchairs.
The doorknob clicked faintly, and Pansy Parkinson stepped inside. She froze for half a breath when she saw him then eased the door shut, leaning back against it.
“You,” Pansy raised both eyebrows, with a devilish smile, “Of all the people it could have been, I think you are the last person on earth I would've guessed-”
Harry's face burned hot, and he bolted back to his feet, “I'm leaving.”
“Calm your tits,” Pansy said rolling her eyes, “I charge twenty percent commission.”
“What?” Harry asked dumbly.
“I'll take measurements and whatnot. I can pick it for you too if you like,” Pansy looked over his baggy torn jeans and Weasley jumper and raised a single immaculate eyebrow, “I think I ought to insist.”
“You take a commission? Do you make them yourself?” Harry asked.
“Of course not. They're tailor-made but not by me.” Pansy said, “If you were going to order them yourself you would have done it, and it's not like you or Draco are hurting for money.”
Harry jumped at the sound of Draco's name.
Pansy smirked, “You got the idea from him, right? I doubt he'd tell you willingly so you must have stumbled onto it accidentally or were spy-ing,” she drew the word out with a knowing look.
“He doesn't know,” was all that Harry was willing to concede. He desperately hoped Pansy wouldn't tell Draco everything.
“I'm sure. Otherwise, I would have found out before,” Pansy smiled and took out her wand, “I'll just take your measurements, then?”
Harry nodded and stood stiffly as Pansy circled around him, casting a few charms and jotted down the results on a piece of parchment.
Pansy nodded to herself as she put her wand away, “That's everything. You can go now. I'll order you something gorgeous. If you don't like it, I'll get it returned and order something else, but you'll love it.”
“Alright,” Harry nervously wiped his palms on his jeans, “Do I pay you now or-”
Pansy let out a bark of a laugh, “Merlin's tits, Potter! You make it sound like I'm a prostitute!”
Harry flushed.
Pansy waved a hand at him, still grinning wickedly, “I'll bill you, boy wonder.”
Harry nodded and went to the door as fast he could without running.
“Potter,” Pansy called after him, “Make sure you tell Draco, about buying this stuff. It'll make him very happy if you do.”
Harry glanced back expecting a sneaky Slytherin expression, but Pansy looked unexpectedly earnest.
“I mean it,” Pansy said.
Harry felt a lump form in his throat and pulled the door shut behind him.
“MATE! You gonna throw that or just look at it?!” Ron shouted.
Harry blinked at the practice quaffle in his hands and hefted it. He chucked it as hard as he could at the third ring, his broom wobbling from the sloppy throw. When he righted himself, Ron had already caught the quaffle, quite easily, and circled around in the air to where Harry was hovering.
“Sorry. I told you to ask Ginny,” Harry said with a shrug.
Ron tossed the quaffle from hand to hand, “She's busy. Besides, it's good to practice catching wild throws too.”
“Glad I could help,” Harry said sarcastically.
Ron grinned, “I think I've almost convinced McGonagall that me and you ought to be able to try out for the team since we weren't even here seventh year. Unfairly excluded, saving the world, that sort of thing.”
“I think I'll stick with seekers games,” Harry said and winced as he remembered.
“With who?” Ron asked, “I haven't seen you fly with anyone since we got back to school.”
Harry sighed, craning his head back to look at the sky, “I had a few games with Draco.”
Ron's eyebrows shot up, “What? When?”
“At night, the first month after school started,” Harry said, “We were getting on, you know? The first night he apologised, and I apologised. We studied together a few times and once in the middle of the night we both woke up from nightmares, and we just talked until the sun came up.”
“And played seekers games,” Ron helpfully supplied.
Harry nodded, “Yeah... and then it stopped and I don't know why,” he shrugged helplessly, “I thought we were becoming friends and then he just stopped. He's polite and careful, but that's all.”
Ron tucked the quaffle under his arm, “Why didn't you say anything before?”
“It felt fragile, like anything might break it,” Harry said.
“That explains why you've been obsessed with him again,” Ron said.
“Oh, erm, no. The obsession was something a bit different,” Harry said nervously.
“Yeah?”
Harry gripped his boom, staring stubbornly out at the horizon, “I might, sort of... fancy him...a lot.”
“Oh-” The quaffle tumbled out of Ron's grasp, and he grabbed after it, “-shit-” his broom wobbling wildly as the ball dropped out of reach, “-Merlin-damn-” He sat back up, steadying his broom stiffly, his face going red, “-stupid quaffle.”
“It's not that bad is it?” Harry joked weakly.
Ron looked at him, contriving to look genuinely perplexed, “What? I'd never be bothered by that sort of thing, not at all. It's perfectly fine, and Malfoy's perfectly fine, and so are you.”
Harry laughed, “You sure?”
“Of course,” Ron said. His brow furrowed as he thought about it, “I mean, if I'm honest it's better than when you dated Ginny.”
“What?” Harry laughed.
“It was weird, and if it fell apart I knew two of my most important people would end up hurt at the same time, and there was nothing I could do about it.”
Harry winced, but what little guilt still lingered quickly faded, he and Ginny had both decided it was for the best to call it quits.
Ron said, “Now, if someone hurts one of you I can get properly angry at them for it. And ferret-face? I don't have to hold back at all for him.”
“He's not bad,” Harry protested.
Ron shook his head, “He's better than he was, and it seems like he's trying but I'll still deck him if he hurts you.”
“I don't think- I don't think he thinks about me that way,” Harry said.
Ron snorted, “Yeah right.” He leaned forward on his broom, sending it down into a sweeping dive and snatching the quaffle off the grass.
Harry barely managed to catch the quaffle as Ron lobbed it to him on his way back to the goal rings.
“Alright, again!” Ron shouted.
Harry sighed and hefted the quaffle in one hand.
A few days later Pansy silently handed him a slim package wrapped in brown paper.
Harry took it, quickly shoving it into his bag and nearly running away with a mumbled thanks. The entire day, it was all he could think about. As soon as his last class finished, he practically ran up to his tower dorm.
Once he was certain Draco wasn't there, he dropped his bag and on his desk, pulling out books and crumpled notes until he found the package on the very bottom. His hands were shaking as he pulled off the course twine and cheap brown paper to the elegant white box inside.
Harry sat on the edge of his bed, shrugging off his robes as he lifted off the lid and a thin sheet of tissue paper, revealing a pair of neatly folded knickers. Harry held it up with trepidation and felt a mixture of relief and disappointment that it was just a simple black silk bikini brief. Under that, a garter belt, also simple black silk, but with a touch of lace on the v's that held the white ribbons and garter clasps.
The door sprang open, and Draco stepped inside, looking a out of breath like he'd run up the tower, a pinch between his eyes that deepened into a furrow as he laid eyes on Harry and his box.
Harry quickly put the knickers back and futilely pressed his hands over the tissue paper, his face instantly getting hot.
“What-” Draco started, but his words were choked off by rage.
Harry shook his head, “N-”.
“Going through my things, Potter?” Draco ground out, “Having a bit of a laugh?”
“No!” Harry blurted, “No, it's not-”
“Then what is it? Blackmail?” Draco stormed over and snatched the box from his hands.
Harry stood, trying to grab it back.
“Looking for-” Draco narrowed his eyes and pushed the tissue further out of the way, “…evidence...?”
“no,” Harry repeated faintly, his words fading to smoke, “They're... mine.”
Draco lifted the pants, then the garter belt before looking back at Harry.
With those slate grey eyes bearing into him, Harry found himself blurting out, “I know, it's stupid, I mean I'd look ridiculous, I can't even- and I'd never look as good as you, I don't know-”
“Potter.”
Harry shakily reached for the box, “I just couldn't stop thinking about it and just- just-”
A cool hand caught Harry's and stole all his words away. Draco stepped closer, just a heartbeat away. If Harry leaned forward, just slightly, Draco's nose would brush across his forehead, and Harry could imagine tilting his chin up, rising to the balls of his feet to kiss him-
“Did Pansy tell you?” Draco asked.
Harry hesitated knowing there was no good explanation.
Draco huffed, “Some type of aparecium viewing spell, then? I was afraid of that.”
“You- You knew I would spy on you?” Harry said.
“I saw how you were watching me. You've always been unbearably nosey. Although, I didn't think this would be the outcome,” Draco said glancing down at the box in his hands, “If you want to wear them, wear them. For yourself.”
Draco's gaze made him feel like his heart was going to beat out of his chest. “You wear them for yourself?” Harry repeated, staring at Draco's perfectly pressed collar, neatly buttoned all the way to the top.
“I like how I feel,” Draco said.
“...How do you feel?” Harry asked, glancing up.
Draco tilted his head down, his lips brushing Harry's hair, “Powerful. Defiant. I feel like-” he breathed in, “-myself.”
Harry shivered.
Draco's hand slipped away, and he took a step back, “I apologise for wrongly assuming your intentions and for yelling. It wasn't needed or called for.”
Harry shook his head dismissively, “It's- It's fine.” He shivered again. It felt like there was a pool of cold air where Draco had been standing.
“Pansy picked them out?” Draco asked.
Harry nodded.
Draco carefully put everything in the box as it had been and held it out, “She has good taste.”
It felt as if they were dancing around something big had unknown to a song neither of them knew. It was strange and awkward, but Harry absolutely didn't want it to end.
Harry looked at the box in Draco's hands, “I don't think I can wear them.”
Draco frowned.
Harry swallowed hard, charging ahead before he lost his nerve, “Because, in my dreams, you're dressing me. That's- That's what I want.”
Draco's eyes darkened, “You want me-?”
Harry licked his lips. He wanted- he wanted, and so he nodded.
Draco was studying him, apprehensive but edged with hope, “I could do that.” He reached out, gently tugging Harry's tie loose and pulling him close again.
Harry's breathing hitched.
“You're certain?” Draco dragged the tie down until the tail slipped free and it fell to the ground.
“Yeah,” Harry said, “Yeah, I'm certain.”
Draco tossed the box onto Harry's bed, fingertips slipping between the buttons on his shirt, pressing a button through the hole and slowly slid up to the next.
“Then allow me to help you,” Draco said quietly. He popped open Harry's collar, pushing the cloth aside and tracing over his collarbone and down his chest, opening the rest of the buttons with agonising slowness.
Harry felt needy and impatient and was already getting hard, and it must have shown on his face because Draco's smile grew. He slid his hands over Harry's hips, thumbnails grazing across the skin of his waist and slipping below the line of his waistband as he pulled them back. He unzipped Harry's jeans, and cupping Harry's cock through his boxers with an appreciative hum.
His cock jumped at the touch, and Harry gasped, clutching Draco's sleeve to keep himself upright.
Draco took Harry's hand, running his thumb over Harry's fingers and then bringing it up to press a kiss on his palm, “Rough. I like it but...” he turned and opened his drawer on their shared bedside cabinet and took out a little pot. He took a dab of the cream inside and swiped into onto Harry's hand before beginning to massage it into his palm and then each finger in turn, “we can't have them catching on the silk.” He took Harry's other hand as he finished the first.
Harry couldn't stop himself from groaning. He felt- he wanted more but inexplicably, he also wanted to see what Draco would do, to see how he would touch him next.
“There,” Draco murmured, keeping hold of Harry's hand and pressing into the curve of his neck.
Harry brushed his fingers through the fine hair at the nape of Draco's neck, “Kiss me?”
Draco hummed distractedly, covering Harry's hand possessively.
“Draco,-” Harry huffed impatiently and tilted his head up, pressing his lips to Draco's. “Is that alright?” he breathed as he pulled away.
“Yes,” Draco said, wrapping an arm around Harry and pulling him tight to his body to kiss him back. He tilted his head, tongue darting out to swipe across Harry's lips and Harry opened his mouth to deepen the kiss.
Harry was certain he could have kissed Draco forever and never tired of it, the entire focus of his world narrowing down to Draco's lips and tongue.
Draco pulled away, his eyes combing over every inch of Harry's face. He cupped Harry's cheek and slid up to run his fingers through his hair, pressing another kiss to his lips, “You're distracting me.”
“If that's what it takes to distract you, I'd like to do it all the time,” Harry said leaning forward and kissing Draco again and again.
Draco slid both hands down Harry's sides, pushing Harry's jeans and boxers down his thighs and pushing Harry backwards onto his bed in one breathless moment.
Harry grabbed the sheets, his heart pounding as Draco slowly knelt in front of him. He pulled off Harry's shoes and socks, and his jeans and pants, leaving Harry in nothing but his unbuttoned shirt with his hard leaking cock on display.
“What are we going to do about this?” Draco mused, glancing up at Harry through his lashes with a lopsided smile. He reached out and drew a fingertip up the underside of Harry's cock making it jump, “You could take care of it, of course, or I could lend a hand, or mouth.”
“Merlin,” Harry bit his lip until it hurt, “Your mouth?”
“I was hoping you'd say that,” Draco said. He tugged on Harry's calf, “to the edge of the bed if you would.”
Harry shifted forward until he was sat right on the edge, his spread knees brushing Draco's sides.
Draco slid his hands up, thumb pressing into Harry's inner thigh,his pale hands contrasting beautifully against Harry's darker skin. He leaned forward, sweeping his tongue over the head of Harry's weeping cock. Harry gasped, clutching the sheets as Draco wrapped his hand around the base of his cock, squeezing and twisting his wrist as he pulled up, and his mouth following his hand back down.
Harry's whole body twitched. Draco tongue curled around his cock as he dipped his head, moving down slowly as if he wanted to memorize the shape of Harry's cock with his mouth. Draco looked up at him through his fringe and Harry unwound his grip on the bed to brush Draco's hair from his forehead, combing his fingers through the silky strands. Draco groaned around Harry's cock, squeezing Harry's thigh as he sped up.
It took every ounce of control Harry had not to move, not to twitch his hips up to meet Draco's mouth. His breathing became ragged and caught between groans, the only word his mouth seemed to know was Draco-Draco-Draco, said like a plea or a prayer, he didn't know.
Through the haze of building pleasure, Harry tugged on Draco's hair, gasping, “gonnacome-”
Draco's mouth slipped off his cock, replaced with his hand, twisting at the top of every stroke. He licked his swollen lips, swiping his thumb over the slit of Harry's cock, urging him, “Come, Harry. Come for me.”
Harry shuddered and gasped, back arching as he came with a groan, come streaking his stomach. Harry leaned forward, and Draco grabbed the collar of his shirt, pressing his forehead against Harry's. He brushed his fingers lightly over Harry's cheeks as his breathing started to slow back to normal and kissed him with lips Harry could have sworn were trembling.
He pulled away all too soon, fumbling in his robes for his wand and casting a gentle cleaning charm over Harry.
Harry let himself fall back on the bed with a thud and truly ridiculous grin.
Harry heard the rustle of tissue paper and pushed himself up onto one elbow, watching as Draco took a stocking from the box. It had two inches of black silk at the top, attached to simple white stockings. The toe and heel were black, and there was a single, bold black seam running up the back, like a line of ink on parchment.
Draco gathered up the stocking and looked up at Harry, who lifted his foot. The fabric was smooth, sticking tight to him like a second skin. Draco's fingers skimmed slowly up his leg as he pulled them up.
Harry sat up as Draco put on the second stocking and stretching both feet out when he was done. The stockings weren't entirely opaque, Harry could still see a hint of his skin colour underneath, and the effect was striking.
Draco took the knickers out and put Harry's feet through them, “On your feet, Potter.”
Harry stood, and shivered as Draco drew them up. Taking his time pulling the cool silk over Harry's arse.
“One more,” Draco murmured, picking up the garter belt and undoing the little clasp at the back. He ringed his arms around Harry to put it on, grazing his hands over the silk and Harry's waist as he drew back. He took each garter clasp and attached it to the tops of the stockings, tugging them tight. The ribbons pressed to Harry's skin as the garter belt dropped tight to his hips.
Draco took a step back, looking Harry over with a hungry expression. He pulled his bottom lip through his teeth and held out his hand, “Come here.” When Harry took it, Draco drew him to the centre of the room, taking out his wand and conjuring a full-length mirror on the back of the door.
Harry stared at the reflection. He let his shirt slip off his shoulders and pool on the floor, turning slowly, trying to see himself from all angles. Black and white on brown skin. The colours were nice, and the clothes were nice, but it was still him, even flushed with his hair looking properly shagged for once. He just looked like him.
Draco stepped behind him, trailing his hands down Harry's arms, “You look good.”
Harry watched Draco's hands spread over the garter belt, down his hips.
“Simple and striking,” Draco said, “Do you like it?”
Harry looked up and saw the mirror he had been hoping for. Draco's expression said he was beautiful. He looked as if he could drown in Harry.
“Heels,” Harry said.
“What?”
“It would look better with heels, wouldn't it?” Harry suggested.
Draco summoned Harry's shoes and silently transfigured the scuffed tenners into a pair of black stilettos. He set them in front of Harry, kneeling down to help him put them on.
Harry tried to balance on the narrow heel and nearly turned an ankle, catching himself on Draco's shoulder. Draco waited until Harry was steady before standing and taking his hand.
Harry wobbled again and squeezed Draco's hand tight. He laughed, “They're not even that tall!”
“The heel's very narrow. I'm afraid I only know how to transfigure the one kind,” Draco apologised, not looking guilty at all.
“We're the same height now,” Harry grinned.
“What's it like not have your nose in everyone's armpit, then?” Draco teased, trying not to smile.
Harry glared at him half-heartedly, “I'm not that short!”
“You admit you are short then?” Draco raised an eyebrow.
“You're just too tall. Prick,” Harry said, sliding his hand around the back of Draco's neck and pulling him into a kiss.
Draco pulled him close, kissing along Harry's jaw and down his neck, scraping his teeth over Harry's collarbone, murmuring into his skin, “Merlin, I want to fuck you.”
Harry shuddered, burying his hands in Draco's hair, “I think...I want you to.”
Draco's head jerked up, “You-? You do?”
“I've never- I'd like to try. ” Harry's words caught in his throat in a wave of nerves and anticipation and he had to clear his throat before he could go on, “You'd stop if I changed my mind, wouldn't you?”
“Yes,” Draco said without an ounce of hesitation.
Harry kissed him, “I want to see your lace.” He slid his hands down Draco's side, letting his fingertips catch on the edges of the garter belt he could feel under Draco's shirt.
"Do you now?" Draco smirked, taking a step back and starting on the buttons at his collar.
Harry kicked off the high heels and undid the garter belt and let it drop, the stockings slipping off with it and pooling on the floor.
Draco stopped mid-button, glaring at the pile of silk, “You're going to ruin them.”
Harry laughed and sat back down on his bed, “Says the asshole who leaves clothes and towels laying all over.”
“That's different,” Draco said carefully picking them up the pile, setting them back in the box, “These are tailor-made.”
“They're fine. If they aren't, I can just buy another. You can even pick it out,” Harry offered.
Draco's breath caught, and he looked hopeful and yet forlorn in equal measure.
Harry suddenly realised that Draco had thought this was a one-time thing, that Harry was just messing about, experimenting.
You-” Harry's brow furrowed, “I like you, you know?”
Draco's throat bobbed as he swallowed hard.
Harry felt his cheeks get hot with embarrassment and forced himself to continue before he lost his nerve, “I liked you before I saw you in stockings, even if I was too thick to know it.” His expression softened, and he rubbed the back of his neck, “...and you quit talking to me because you fancied me as well?” He added softly, mostly to himself, “I hope.”
Draco seemed frozen in place. He breathed out in a shudder and nodded fervently. He crossed the distance between them in two steps, bracing one knee on the bed and kissing Harry as if he might die if he didn't, and didn't stop until they were both gasping.
Draco straightened up and quickly divested himself of his shirt, revealing a camisole made entirely of dark red lace. He fumbled trying to unbutton his trousers and push them down, somehow kicking off his shoes and socks at the same time. His garter belt was solid silk of the same rich maroon, holding up sheer red hued stockings. His pants though, they were made of the same lace as the camisole and looked as delicate as tissue, and they showed everything.
“Merlin,” Harry breathed. He reached out and tugged down the top of the top of Draco's knickers, freeing the head of his cock and touched it tentatively.
Draco hissed through his teeth, “I'm going to come if you keep that up.”
Harry sighed and reached up, tugging on the edge of Draco's camisole, “Take this off, I want to see you.”
“It's lace,” Draco said.
“I want to see more,” Harry said impatiently.
Draco pulled the flimsy thing off, followed by his garter, stockings and lace knickers, placing it all carefully on their nightstand. Harry moved back to the middle of the bed, dropping his head onto his pillow and shimmying out of his black knickers.
Draco opened his bedside drawer and took out a vial lube, nearly dropping it three times in the process. He knelt on the bed, scowling when he saw Harry's grin, “Oh fuck off. You're the one that's meant to be nervous, you know? I've done this before. I should be the smug, confident one.”
Harry's grin grew, “Funny thing that, you being nervous always makes me feel pretty confident.”
Draco shifted closer, and Harry widened his legs.
“And I rather like the idea of just laying back and letting you do all the work.” Harry added, “Nice view as well.” He ran his eyes appreciatively over Draco.
Draco glared at him half-heartedly, two faint flushes of pink high up on his cheeks, “It's easier on your stomach, the first time.”
“What about my view?” Harry said with a teasing pout.
Draco sighed, running a hand down Harry's thigh, “It's up to you.”
Harry bit his lip briefly, the first inkling of anxiety blooming in his chest, “I'd like to try this way first.”
“Very well. We need another pillow,” Draco said.
Harry held out his hand, wandlessly summoning Draco's pillow.
“Show off,” Draco said, snatching his pillow away. He reached up, swapping Harry's pillow for his own.
“Hey-!”
“Lift your hips,” Draco said impatiently, smacking Harry's thigh lightly.
Harry glared at him briefly then lifted his bum. Draco slid the pillow under his hips.
“Your ass, your pillow,” Draco said absently as he searched the rumpled sheets for the vial of lube.
Harry silently rolled his eyes, shifting nervously.
Draco found the little bottle but paused before opening it, “Still certain?”
“Yeah”, Harry nodded.
Draco poured some of the slick liquid onto his finger and reached down, brushing his fingertip over Harry's arsehole in small teasing circles.
Harry gasped at the strange and unfamiliar sensation but... it wasn't bad. He bit his lip and groaned, really not bad at all.
Draco press his finger more firmly. “More?” Draco asked, his voice rough, caught in the back of his throat.
Harry hooked one of his legs over Draco's waist and tugged him closer, “More.”
Draco pushed through the tight ring of muscle, slowly sinking his finger inside.
Harry whimpered, closing his eyes at the onslaught of strange sensations. The faint ache faded and Harry pressed his heel against Draco's back, urging him on. He could hear Draco swallowing hard as he began moving his finger, pulling out and pushing in a little further each time.
Draco did something, curling his finger as he pressed it up and inside Harry, that left Harry breathless and scrambling to clutch at the sheets as a delicious heat began to throb at the base of his spine.
“More?” Draco asked.
Harry heard himself make an embarrassingly needy sound and Draco kissed his inner thigh, pulling his finger out, second joining it, teasing and brushing over his arsehole.
“Hurry up,” Harry gasped.
Draco pressed both fingers inside. Harry squirmed and tightened on the intrusion, pleasure and pain momentarily overwhelming him and then fading to a more bearable stretching burn.
Draco held perfectly still until he felt Harry pressing against his back then began working both fingers in just as he had before. Harry didn't hesitate when Draco asked if he wanted a third. He was getting a feeling for what to expect, and a taste for the more subtle build of the promised pleasure inside him. He squeezed down on Draco's fingers each time he thrust them inside, trying to hold them on that one perfect spot.
“Fuck, Harry,” Draco groaned, his eyes fixed on his pumping fingers.
Harry nodded, “Merlin, yes.”
Draco froze, “You're certain?”
Harry kicked him weakly.
Draco poured a generous amount of lube over his cock, “I'm not sure I can stop after this.”
“Liar,” Harry said.
Draco frowned.
Harry wrapped his other leg around Draco's back, dragging his heel over his hip, “I trust you.”
Draco looked as if he didn't dare believe it.
“I know you won't hurt me,” Harry said.
Draco squeezed his eyes shut for a second, then leaned forward. The blunt head of Draco's cock pressed inside him in a single slow thrust.
Harry gasped, squirming at the sudden ache burn and the feeling, so tight and full. As soon as he could catch his breath, he pushed himself up onto his elbows to see Draco filling him, to see where they were now connected.
The bed creaked as Draco placed his hands on either side of Harry, “You're going to be the death of me, Potter,” Draco ground out.
“Harry,” Harry said between panted breaths, “I like it better when you call me Harry.”
“The death of me, Harry,” Draco said.
Harry wrapped his hand around the back of Draco's neck and kissed him fiercely, biting his lip and sweeping his mouth with his tongue before his arms gave out and Harry slumped back onto the bed. “Move,” he urged.
Draco grabbed Harry's hand, pressed it into the sheets and began thrusting. He was slow and careful at first, but he quickly lost all ability to hold back.
Harry let himself drown in it, in the feeling of being fucked, in Draco holding his hand so tightly it ached, in the sweat and the sounds they made together. Harry arched his back and Draco met the distance between them in a snap of his hips.
Harry was getting close, he took himself in hand, wanking his cock in time with Draco's thrusts. The sharper bright feel of his cock joined the throbbing heat in his hips and pushing out every other thought in his head, growing until it overflowed, his body tight and trembling as he came in a wave of pleasure that made his vision go white at the edges.
Draco moaned, gripping Harry's hips so hard it hurt, shaking from the effort to stay still.
Harry licked his lips, feeling breathless and exhausted but not done. He reached back and braced his hands against the curved headboard. “Come,” He rolled his hips, pushing himself deeper onto Draco's cock, “I want to see you come, Draco.”
“Harry,” Draco whimpered, thrusting deep and hard into him.
Harry watched Draco Malfoy fucking him, rolling his hips and clenching down on his Draco's cock with every thrust. Draco swore and groaned, his thrusts becoming erratic and desperate. He shuddered, his eyes squeezing closed. Harry could feel his cock throbbing inside him as he came.
Draco dropped his head on Harry's chest, panting with exertion and shaking faintly. Harry lowered his legs back onto the bed, his hips and back aching faintly at the strange potion he had held for so long and couldn't be bothered to notice.
Draco cock softened and slipped out of Harry. They both groaned faintly, and Draco managed to push himself up just far enough to collapsed beside Harry instead of on top of him.
They lay together in silence until the sweat began to cool on their bodies. Draco shifted, resting his head on Harry's shoulder. Harry reached over, brushing back the damp hair stuck to Draco's forehead.
Draco closed his eyes, leaning into his touch, murmuring, “Can you cast a cleaning charm?”
“No wand,” Harry said, combing his fingers through Draco's hair.
“Just summon it then, like you did with the pillow,” Draco grumbled.
“I have to be able to focus,” Harry said.
Draco smiled faintly, “And you can't.”
“Not a chance,” Harry sighed. “I think your wand is on the floor beside the bed.”
“Much too far,” Draco said.
Harry hummed in agreement, “We could probably fit in a shower before dinner.”
“Together?”
“It would be fun, wouldn't it?” Harry said.
Draco pursed his lips, “It would be a mess. You do remember how small the shower is right?”
“It'd be a shame not to at least try,” Harry insisted.
Draco snorted, “Another dream of yours?”
Harry tugged on his hair, “Come on. Everyone thinks about messing around in the shower.”
“Everyone?” Draco twitched up an eyebrow.
“Everyone,” Harry said stubbornly.
“Well, once ought to be enough to show you how utterly wrong you are,” Draco said. He stretched his legs out with a tired sigh.
Harry shook his head, “Merlin, it's unfair how fucking incredible your legs are.”
Draco stretched both legs up towards the ceiling, pointing his toes, “They are fantastic, aren't they?” He lowered them back onto the bed, darting a glance towards Harry, “Are you going to wear any of it again?”
“The stockings?”
Draco nodded.
Harry thought about it. Draco said he should only wear them for himself, but Harry wasn't sure about that. At least for him, wearing them for a bit of fun, to see that look on Draco's face again, that was a good enough reason.
“If you're there to help me put them on,” Harry said.
Draco looked thoughtful then slowly smiled. He turned on his side, cupping Harry's chin and kissing him. “I think I can live with that.”