DV8: Pillow Slash

~~~~~~~~

"He did NOT SHAG HER," yelled Harry, turning approximately the color of an eggplant. "I hate you, Malfoy, and I hate your stupid poem!"

Draco looked vaguely offended (or was that a come-hither look? Harry wondered). "I was simply taking artistic license. Come to think of it, your life makes an excellent epic poem - in a pathetic kind of way. I wonder what rhymes with 'cupboard'? Or 'lonely nights of wanking off in the Gryffindor dormitory'-ow! OW!" he yelled as Harry launched himself onto the bed and vigorously attacked him with a green embroidered pillow. A furious but silent fight ensued, which ended when Harry managed to jam an elbow into Draco's solar plexus while simultaneously sitting on his legs.

"Take it back," he said, panting a little as Draco´s chest rose and fell unevenly beneath him.

Draco made a face at him. They were nose-to-nose, and Harry was looking even more wild-eyed and wild-haired (and thoroughly shaggable) than usual. "I'm sorry I said you were a tart," he said.

Harry ignored this. "You know what I mean! Why are you bringing up -you know - Ron and all that? Aren't you supposed to be being sensitive and brotherly and -"

"Yeah, well, I tried that but it didn't seem to be working. So I thought maybe I ought to just keep mentioning it as rudely as possible until you get desensitized."

"Oh that's a great idea. A real world-beater."

Draco struggled to prop himself up on his elbows, putting himself at eye level with Harry, who was still kneeling on his legs. "Look, Potter," he said evenly, noting as he did how jewel-like Harry´s eyes were when they were sparkling with indignation. "This wedding is tomorrow. And you know who's going to be here. Weasley, for one. Half Slytherin House - their parents are all friends with my mother. I know Blaise and Pansy will be here. You're not going to be living in a world of people who don't know or are too polite to say anything, not any more. And the way you are these days, the first nasty comment anyone makes will cut the legs out from under you. Better you start getting used to it now, and hearing it from someone who doesn't really want to hurt you."

The anger vanished from Harry's expression like a candle blown out. "You know, Malfoy," he said grudgingly, pushing Draco back down on the bed. "You're probably the only person in the world who could be a huge jerk to me, then turn around and convince me that they're actually doing me a favor."

"Yes," Draco agreed, deadpan. "I am a unique and beautiful snowflake."

Harry grinned and let his legs slide over Draco´s hips, straddling him instead of sitting awkwardly on his legs. Just making things more comfortable for Draco, he told himself, never mind that this new position felt really good....

"That you are, Malfoy," he said. "Even if you are a right git." As he spoke he ruffled Draco´s hair. A shiver of pleasure shot up Draco´s spine, and he experimentally arched his hips a little, thrusting them towards the warmth of Harry´s body.

The contact startled Harry, but he was even more startled at how quickly he relaxed against Draco, how the planes of their thighs just seemed to, well, fit together. Draco looked as if he might be having trouble breathing. His shortness of breath made Harry realize he was kind of lightheaded himself. He didn´t mind that--in fact, he liked it because he knew it was something he shared with Draco

He hadn´t thought about it till just then; but in the middle of all the drama of the past two days, and all the mixed up emotions he´d been dealing with for longer than he could even measure, the fact that no matter what he was going through, Draco knew the things he couldn´t say, and sometimes couldn´t even articulate--that meant more to him than anything. Even, he realized with a jolt--even getting Hermione back.

He narrowed his eyes and leaned forward. "You really are, you know," he added, coming close enough for Draco to have to lean his head back to avoid going cross-eyed while meeting Harry´s gaze.

"Really am what, Potter?" said Draco. His voice sounded a little ragged, almost uncertain.

"Beautiful," said Harry, right before kissing him, and Draco let out a slight `mmph´ of surprise and kissed right back without any hesitation--just as Harry had somehow known he would.

Harry sighed contentedly, and for a few moments they were lost in the kiss and in each other, Harry´s hand running through Draco´s hair while Draco wound his hands around Harry´s waist.

"S´nice," murmured Harry against Draco´s lips, hand trailing up under Draco´s shirt to stroke his stomach lightly. Draco squirmed. "Malfoy, I never knew you were ticklish," Harry said. "Have to remember that."

"Try tickling me and I´ll grind your bones to make my bread, Potter," Draco growled.

"I think I like the sound of that," said Harry, grinning. "The bone-grinding part, I mean."

Draco ignored the part of him that wanted to rest under Harry´s weight, and gripped him by the waist before rolling Harry beneath him. "Why, Potter, you pervy Malfoy-fancier, you."

In response, Harry´s grin broke into an out-and-out smile, the first real smile Draco could remember him having worn in ages. It was so brilliant, his face was suddenly so changed, that Draco nearly pulled away in surprise just to look at him. "Got it in one," he responded, and Draco was almost relieved that Harry had no idea how sexy he sounded. Harry´s touch grew firmer as his fingers explored Draco´s chest, and Draco relaxed, pulling Harry closer, tongue seeking the depths of Harry´s mouth. Harry´s lips parted, and they began to kiss, a kiss that... oh... one of those kisses...and Draco began to devour him, growing hungry for Harry even as he felt a strange, incredible sense of fullness descend over him.

Kissing Harry was surprising and delightful; it was as if their minds were, were clasping one another. Draco had never had any long-lost friends, but he had felt the way Harry´s thoughts sometimes jolted in pleasure at seeing him again after a while, and he had seen the flash of happiness in Sirius´ eyes when he recognized Remus;--this was like that, and more; it was the sudden spark of elation at re-discovering something long-lost and precious, or hearing the voice of someone you loved after a long time apart, only the spark was being stretched out, blossoming into a bright flame of perfect understanding and joy.

If I´d known you knew how to kiss like this, Potter...

Not bad yourself, Malfoy...

Should have done this--

--A long time ago, right...

Oh, this was good, and Draco could feel the pleasant tingle of Harry´s own thoughts in his head telling him Harry felt exactly the same way. He ran an experimental string of kisses over Harry´s neck, which was smooth and tasted faintly of the cranberry juice Draco had seen him drinking earlier. He shifted closer, half expecting Harry to push him away, thinking a bit dizzily, This is too good to be this easy. Any second now you´re going to turn into a toad.

But to his ever-increasing awe, Harry didn´t pull away. Instead he chuckled. I hear they Polyjuice all kinds of creatures nowadays, he thought, and he let out a really cool little gasp under Draco´s tongue, stretching his neck for more.

Draco´s body reacted to that in ways he wasn´t quite prepared for, and he heard a matching gasp, echoing surprise and desire, issue from his own lips. Unbidden, before he could stop himself, the thought leaped into his head: but you´re not--I mean, what about Hermione, if she--

Harry cut him off with the equivalent of a mental growl, and he grabbed Draco´s collar and pulled him closer, a little roughly. Malfoy, I realize that the whole `all-my-best-friends-want-Hermione´ trend is in vogue right now. Draco could hear the smirk in his mind, and there was no bitterness, only a dry, resolved kind of humor. But right now there´s only one person I really want to think about, and it isn´t her.

He wrapped his arms around Draco´s waist and ran one palm beneath Draco´s shirt, up the smooth arch of his spine. He expected some kind of reaction to the contact, but instead Draco just stared at him blankly.

I´m your best friend? Draco thought at him, stunned, and knowing he looked it.

Harry was thrown off, and a little bemused. Sure you are, Malfoy. Draco still looked shocked at this, and he added, Who else?

A note of resignation entered Draco´s thoughts. Oh. I see.

No, you don´t, Harry replied quickly, urgently. I didn´t mean it like that. I meant--I meant--well, that, you´re always...you have been my best--he faltered, and realized that the word friend didn´t go nearly far enough. -Best everything, really. For a long time now. Draco´s eyes registered a dawning comprehension, slow but wary. Harry added, his voice firm in Draco´s head, I mean it.

Draco stared at Harry, for a moment unsure if Harry had crushed his ribs harder than he´d thought when he had pulled him close, or if the sudden squeezing pain in his chest was due to the pounding of his heart against its cage. He stared so long that he felt Harry´s thoughts turn to uncertainty in his head, misting into a sort of hopeful confusion.

Draco?

Draco blinked and pushed himself onto his elbows. For a moment Harry thought that he was pulling away--then realized Draco had only done this to give himself a better angle, because a second later he lunged for Harry´s mouth, and kissed him, hard.

He chose me, was the one thought crowning all others in his head. It was one thing for Harry to say he hadn´t meant what he´d said to Draco in the tower, but to know he didn´t mean it, to feel it in the arch of his body, the warmth of his hands on Draco´s skin... that was more happiness than he had ever expected to feel. Draco began to memorize Harry´s lips with his tongue, imprinting the feel of them from the inside on his mind to match the shape of them on the outside: the way they spread when Harry smiled mid-kiss, the way they went vertical in a gasp when Draco sank his teeth into Harry´s lower lip, the way they were so soft and firm and sure and still a little awkward all at once. Draco decided, without giving it a lot of fanfare or being particularly mushy about it, that he really liked the way Harry kissed him. The thought flashed through his head that he had better enjoy it now, because he might not have many more chances to enjoy it later on; but that was too painful to think about--not the idea of dying, but the idea of leaving Harry--and he locked down his mind and focused on the kiss with everything he had, every ounce of strength he possessed, everything he was.

Harry had always thought--when he had bothered to think about it, which hadn´t been a common occurrence, since it inevitably led to thoughts of Hermione--that Draco would kiss coldly, with complete control, the way he behaved in all other ways. In fact, once Harry had seen him kissing Blaise Zabini, and it had been pretty much like he had expected--Draco had hardly had his arms around her, had barely leaned into the kiss, and for all intents and purposes could have looked like a walking mannequin for all the emotion he was putting into it. Blaise hadn´t seemed to mind, but Harry had been slightly bothered by the image. He had thought then, with a vague sense of unease and dissatisfaction, that Draco deserved better. After all, he had behaved like a perfect gentleman around Hermione, and Harry, without knowing exactly how he felt about her, had always known how hard that was for him. He had thought that Draco needed something, some kind of reward, someone that he could love and not have to hold back from, the way he always seemed to hold back from loving everyone and everything.

Well. Now he knew what Draco needed.

Oh, yes. This was definitely what Draco needed.

Maybe even what he needed.

He broke the kiss with a sigh that was almost, almost a moan. Draco shivered and buried his nose in the hair curling against Harry´s forehead, whisking kisses over his brow. Harry laughed a breathless laugh, and dragged Draco´s shirt up over the curve of his back. He got momentarily lost in watching the line of Draco´s chest as it was gradually revealed, until the shirt was bunched up around Draco´s shoulders, and he looked up to see Draco looking at him bemusedly. Are you going to take my shirt off, or do you want me to tie it around my neck and do my best impression of a J. Crew catalog?

Harry pushed Draco off of him just long enough to yank the shirt over Draco´s head, then pull his own off. I was thinking you might do an impression of Seamus Finnigan doing his best runway walk, he said cheekily. Draco grimaced, but shifted closer and relaxed against him, his body impossibly light. Harry ran his hand down Draco´s chest, and smiled at the reaction he got. Draco, if such a thing were even possible, was purring in his mind.

Don´t think that just because your--ohh--your hand is where it is at the moment, Potter, that you can get away with introducing campy Finnigan humor into this conversation.

See, talking, you´ve hit on something vital there. The whole talking thing. We could be doing other things besides.

Yes, but we aren´t exactly talking as it is, Potter, and to prove his point Draco began to kiss his way over Harry´s chest.

Harry gasped, and then did something he had never, ever done before--he moaned. Draco looked up at him, desire clouding his eyes and his mind. Harry congratulated himself on achieving this effect, and flipped Draco over onto his back, so that he was once again on top, and Draco was cradled in his arms and looking up at him with an expression of half-hope, half-lust.

"What I mean, Malfoy," Harry said aloud, and his voice was low and rumbly with a tone no one else had ever put there--"is that I want us to be incoherent."

Draco´s eyes stilled and darkened. "Show me what you mean, then, Harry."

Harry hesitated. You know--I was going to ask you to do a memory reversal charm on me.

Draco´s eyes widened. What?

I wanted you to take my memories away. For the wedding. So Sirius wouldn´t have to see me like--the way I´ve been the last few days.

Harry... Harry, I couldn´t--

Harry cut him off mentally, and, even though he didn´t have to, touched his fingers to Draco´s lips. He kept them there because the gesture felt so natural, and intimate, and Draco let his lips linger against Harry´s fingertips, watching him.

I know, Harry said. It´s okay. I think--he paused again, and this time, before he spoke, he let his own lips replace his fingertips, kissing him slowly. It doesn´t matter anymore, he thought against Draco´s lips--

--and suddenly, he realized that Draco had replaced his memories anyway.

With maybe the happiest memory of all.