Found, Never Lost

Chapter 15: Picking Up - Part 2

Merlin, it's been too long, Draco thought, dazed. Had they kissed like this when they were seventeen? He couldn't remember. He barely remembered the last time he'd kissed anybody. It had been pleasurable, but nothing compared to this. This was- God, how had he survived so long without it?

He felt his mind reeling, trying to grasp that this was really happening; that those were Harry's hands on his skin and Harry's lips on his neck; that this could be so familiar and yet so different. His own hands were exploring a more substantial frame - thank God they were both less scrawny than they'd been as teenagers! - and Harry's touches were gentler than they used to be, but they caused shockwaves wherever they came in contact with Draco's skin, and it felt incredible. If only they didn't stay chastely above his waistline!

Draco tried not to squirm with impatience. He kept telling himself that Harry couldn't possibly be self-conscious, that he simply wasn't as touch-deprived as Draco, but there was only so much pleasure to be had from anticipation, and he groaned in frustration. Unluckily, this spot was anything but private... and this was only their first kiss... and maybe Harry wasn't quite ready to deal with a sex-starved Slytherin... So maybe he shouldn't take the next step... not here and now... On the other hand, Harry was shielding him from view... and whoever looked at them across the lake wouldn't see anything but Draco's back... and judging from the way Harry was rubbing against him, he needed it just as much as Draco... No, he couldn't resist!

He made the touch light, tentative, an almost accidental brush with the back of his hand - and felt Harry freeze instantly. Shit! Maybe that had been too soon? But Harry didn't pull back. He just stood very still, his mouth on Draco's, both hands under his shirt, leaving Draco breathless and dizzy with need. God, he wanted so much to give Harry a good hard squeeze, grab his hand and push it down, but maybe it would be better to...

Yes! This time, Harry melted into his touch with a little noise in the back of his throat that shot straight to Draco's groin. He touched Harry more confidently, every fibre in his body tingling, and found himself silently begging Harry to please, please do the same to him... reach lower... just a handspan... Please don't stop!... almost... just a little more... Yes! Right there! He was dimly aware that he was covering Harry's hand with his own, pressing it against his erection, while his other hand - Fuck yes! - found Harry just as aroused as he was, and if they kept going - Just like that! -, he'd probably come in his trousers, but who cared - and what the fuck was Harry doing?!

oOoOoOoOoOo

Harry hated breaking their kiss, but he felt increasingly uncomfortable. His jeans were too tight, there was too much fabric everywhere, he was too hot, and even though this was a fairly secluded spot, they were still in public. Draco might not care even if half the population of Berlin paraded by, but Harry certainly did. Besides, he didn't want it to happen like this, as a hectic, mindless act of frotting. In public!

He withdrew a little, pulled his hands out from underneath Draco's shirt and placed them on his hips, hoping to break the momentum without making Draco feel rejected... Good! It seemed to work. Draco's movements became less frantic, his hands less urgent, his kisses softer... Harry took a deep breath and relaxed - until he realised why exactly his discomfort had decreased.

"Stop!" he gasped and laced his fingers through Draco's to keep him from going any further, but it was a half-hearted attempt at best, because what he was doing felt too good. He couldn't recall the last time he'd been so turned on, and his inner voice shouted at him to stop being such a prude, to follow Draco's example, just pull the damn zip and-

No, not like this!

"Draco, wait-"

But either Draco chose to ignore him or he was too far gone, because his mouth was back on Harry's, which made talking impossible, and what his hand was doing further down was diminishing Harry's cognitive functions at an alarming rate. Harry felt panic rise inside him; he would normally look forward to a screaming orgasm - just not in public! Unfortunately, he was getting closer to exactly that - or at least it felt like it; and he couldn't think of a way to stop Draco, short of pushing him away, but he didn't want to do that; and suddenly all he could think of was how much more comfortable they would be at home and how much safer he would feel and... and... And what the-

oOoOoOoOoOo

...the fuck?!

Draco blinked. As unexpected as it had occurred, the sensation of being pressed very hard from all directions ceased. He could breathe again, his ears popped, and the blackness around him was replaced by a sunlit room. It took him a moment to catch up with his surroundings and identify his whereabouts as-

"Thank God!" Harry said with feeling and gave Draco a little smile before his eyes fluttered shut and he pulled Draco close again.

"Wh-?" was all Draco could say before Harry's hands found their way back under his shirt and the question of why in all hells Harry had Apparated them into the hall of his flat instead of his bedroom landed on the List of Things to Ask Later. Right now, it was really more important to get rid of all those clothes separating them. He briefly wondered if he wasn't rushing things as he pushed the shirt off Harry's shoulders and tugged his tee-shirt from his jeans, but he couldn't help it. He'd been hard for what seemed like hours, and a rather large part of his brain was pointing out - quite reasonably, actually - that they would both feel more comfortable without their trousers. Besides, Harry seemed just as eager to shed his clothes as Draco was to get him out of them.

"Good grief, Draco, how long's it been since you got any?" Harry chuckled and brushed his lips across Draco's cheek.

Draco scoffed. The git was entirely too smug for a bloke who, if it were up to him, was about five minutes from getting laid - if they went that far, that was. Maybe they shouldn't. And maybe the question wasn't really relevant because he would probably explode the instance Harry put a hand down his pants.

"You don't want to know," he said tightly, pushing the shirt up until Harry lifted his arms to let him pull it over his head. "Care to tell me why we're doing this in the hall when we have a perfectly comfortable bed right over there?"

"Hmm, maybe I wanted to give us some options," came the reply from the side of his neck and rational thinking slipped away when warm breath was followed by soft lips, and why that kind of touch always shot straight to his groin would forever remain a mystery to him. Not that it mattered. Right now, nothing mattered but Harry's hands unbuttoning his shirt and spreading it open; Harry's chest, warm and solid, against his own bare skin; Harry's mouth covering his; and Harry's fingers dipping underneath the waistband of his jeans for agonising moments before finally unfastening them.

He felt Harry smile against his lips at his sigh of relief, and then Harry withdrew a little to look at him. "Better?" he asked.

"Getting there." Draco used the break to toe off his trainers. "How about you?" he murmured close to Harry's ear and grinned when Harry responded by reaching between them and hastily unbuttoning his own jeans. "Now... tell me about those options." He took Harry in his arms again and slipped his hands inside the back of Harry's trousers.

"Well," Harry said, "I'm rather hungry..." His hands imitated Draco's gesture with the result that Draco's jeans slid off his hips. Draco quickly stepped out of them before they could end up in an undignified heap around his ankles. "So we could have lunch," Harry continued, trailing his fingertips up Draco's back. Before Draco could make an appropriately snide comment about the bottomless pits that were Gryffindor stomachs, Harry's hands started wandering down the inside of his arms, caressing the soft skin there, and this time Draco could practically feel part of his brain shut down.

"Or we could continue this-" Harry's mouth returned to Draco's for a light kiss, "on the couch."

The couch! Yes! The bed would be better, of course, but he could live with the couch. Draco felt a wave of excitement ripple through his body at the thought of being inside another person again - or having someone inside him. Either would be good. As a matter of fact, anything that involved being naked with Harry would be good! He detached himself from Harry long enough to pluck the spectacles off his nose and ask, "Having lunch or snogging on the couch. Any other suggestions?"

But Harry didn't seem to be paying attention right now. He had pulled the rubber band from Draco's plait and was carding both hands through his hair again. Goosebumps were marching up and down Draco's arms and he swallowed, unable to really concentrate on the feel of Harry's skin under his fingertips. God, how could such a simple touch feel so good?

"I wanted to do this Sunday, at the aquarium," Harry said very quietly.

"Do what?" Draco pushed his head backwards into Harry's hands, wishing he could purr.

"Touch your hair like this."

One hand disappeared from his hair and began a slow journey down his neck and chest.

"Too bad you didn't," Draco heard himself almost groan as Harry's fingers wandered around his side, reached the small of his back and sneaked below the waistband of his boxers. "I would have snogged you blind right there and we wouldn't have to go to London tomorrow."

Apparently he wasn't the only one who didn't understand the statement, because the hands on his body went still.

"You wanted to kiss me?" Harry asked, and Draco grinned. Trust Harry to home in on the easiest part! Then he nodded and moved his head insistently because Harry wasn't doing anything, which was decidedly too little.

"Why didn't you, yesterday, on the couch?" Harry's hands and lips resumed their exploration of Draco's back and neck. About time!

"Same reason you sneaked out of my bed this morning?"

Harry's mouth left his throat as he lifted his head to look at Draco with a little smirk. "A Slytherin afraid of Gryffindor snarks?"

No immediate answer came to Draco's mind, which wasn't surprising because Harry's fingertips were now following the curve of his bottom, so lightly that he could barely feel them. It was very distracting. Besides, he wasn't interested in that particular conversation right now.

"I'm still waiting for the option involving the bed," he reminded Harry, nudging his cheeck with his nose, inhaling deeply. "You smell different," he observed and wondered for a split second how he could make such a moronic remark in a moment like this, then their mouths met again and rational thinking disappeared once more.

"Neveya," was the cryptic reply, rather muffled because it had to be maneouvered around Draco's tongue, before Harry turned his head enough to break their kiss. "Which reminds me..." He moved his hands up Draco's sides. "Next option..."

"I'm not interested in any option that doesn't let us get naked," Draco declared, and then his knees almost gave out because Harry's thumbs slowly circled his nipples.

"That-" Harry murmured, "is not an option." He lightly rubbed his cheek against Draco's. "That's mandatory," he whispered, and at that, Draco's impatience simply vanished. Harry's voice held the promise of relief, and when he drew him close and pressed his erection into Draco's groin, Draco couldn't hold back the needy little whimper that had been lurking at the back of his throat for so long. Oddly enough, it didn't make him feel pathetic at all, probably because Harry made the same kind of noise and kissed him again.

"Next option?" Draco prompted breathlessly, several heated kisses later. They hadn't made much progress of any kind in any direction. After Harry had steered them a few steps sideways to let Draco drop his specs onto the side-table next to the front door, they had ended up against the nearest wall. Not that there was anything wrong with having his back to the wall, especially not with Harry grinding into him like this...

"We could take a shower."

"A shower?" Whatever he'd expected, a shower had definitely not been part of the picture - at least not until later.

"Why not? I'm feeling sweaty and sticky, and it would be nice to rinse off first."

First...

There was that something in Harry's voice again that made Draco feel pathetically weak in the knees - which became especially noticeable when Harry peeled him off the wall and they were moving again. Maybe taking a shower wasn't such a bad idea. The thought of rubbing each other down with that slippery stuff Muggles used for soap had definite appeal. On the other hand-

"What's wrong with the couch? Or the bed, for that matter?"

"Patience!" The soft hissing sound, breathed into his ear, followed by a nibble to his earlobe, made Draco swallow to hold back another whimper. Merlin, where had the man learned to talk and be in charge like that? And how was it possible to become even harder without being touched more intimately?

Screw it!

What difference did it make?

"Shower," he agreed.

Anything, as long as we can get naked!

oOoOoOoOoOo

It took them a while to manoeuver across the hall because it was impossible to take their hands off each other, or stop kissing, or open their eyes for longer than two seconds, which wasn't always enough to get their bearings. It didn't help matters that they were both grinning like idiots, which made kissing somewhat awkward - and led to even more grinning. When they finally reached the bathroom, after bumping into several walls and almost tumbling through the open living room door along the way, Harry felt stickier and sweatier and in even greater need of a shower than before.

Now here they were, waiting for the water to be warm enough, and he still found it hard to believe that all this was really happening... That they were running their hands over each other's body... Draco's fingers gliding down his sides... his last piece of clothing gone... Draco shedding his own underwear... That they were skin on skin at last, moving slowly, carefully, fitting their bodies together until they were touching from chest to ankles and finally - almost - close enough.

Harry inhaled deeply, taking in the sensations of Draco's heartbeat and heavy breathing, his own hard pulse and the excitement that thrummed through his body. This was so amazing! His inner voice pointed out timidly that it was a little... confusing to be pressed against a flat chest where his body had learned to expect soft breasts; and feeling an erection that wasn't his own rub against his belly was a tad strange, too. But it felt good nevertheless. And something else would feel even better.

"Water should be hot by now," he mumbled into Draco's neck and felt Draco gasp and tighten his hold on him. Nuzzling below Draco's ear, he breathed against the sensitive spot there.

Whipped cream...

He smiled at the thought and let his tongue glide over the soft skin.

"Do that again and we won't make it into the tub," was the breathless response while something twitched insistently against his belly, demanding attention, and without thinking about it, he reached between them and touched Draco.

The next minutes were somewhat of a blur. Somehow they made it into the steam-filled shower stall and the next thing he knew, he was leaning against Draco, trapping him between his body and the cold tiled wall, their hands entwined behind Draco's neck, both of them thoroughly wet and slick with soap, and they were kissing like there would be no tomorrow, moaning into each other's mouth, thrusting against each other, and Harry was more aroused than he'd been in a long time. God, he had missed this! And he had almost forgotten about it; forgotten how Draco, in spite of his snarks and sneers, craved tenderness; that he liked to be touched and held; how much he loved to kiss - and that he was damn good at it!

He let out a little sigh and felt Draco hum in response. It made him smile and pull back to look at Draco for a moment, take in his flushed cheeks and slightly parted lips, his eyes, wide and dark with arousal, the expression on his face...

"Turn around," he whispered before he could stop himself - and held his breath. Had he been too bold? Apparently not, because Draco immediately turned in his arms and braced himself against the wall. Fuck! Harry felt a spike of excitement lash through his body at the sight. He fought down the urge to take him, just like that, right there. It wouldn't be smart... all that soap... However, there was something...

He wrapped both arms around Draco and pulled him against his body, away from the wall. Draco glanced over his shoulder, a slight frown on his face, looking as if he was about to say something, and Harry quickly pressed his lips to his cheek - and his front firmly against his back. He heard Draco suck in a sharp breath when he slipped between his legs and bit his lip as another wave of arousal washed through him.

It wasn't something they'd done much as teenagers. Why bother with this when they could shag? But now - now Harry found that he liked the... position or whatever it was called. It was intimate without being invasive, and the sensation of sliding between Draco's thighs was wonderful, much more intense than expected. And the best thing about it was that it left both his hands free...

Harry gave himself up to the pleasure of exploring the body in front of him with soapy hands. God, it felt so good to be with Draco again! He moved slowly, willing Draco to get the idea without him having to spell it out - and apparently he did. Or maybe he was simply content to let Harry take the lead. Just like in school, Harry thought and mouthed down Draco's neck, excitement fluttering through his belly when Draco gasped and pushed back against him.

He placed both hands on Draco's hips and moved faster, but then Draco braced himself against the wall once more and Harry forced himself to slow down. Fuck! He hadn't meant to get this intense so soon. It just felt so damn good!

"No! Don't stop!"

Well, that was a pointer. He snuggled his chin into the dip where Draco's neck became his shoulder and picked up the speed again, concentrating on Draco's reactions to make sure what he was doing was all right. A second later, Draco leaned his head sideways against Harry's with a shuddering breath, so Harry decided he must be okay - and then Draco slipped his right hand underneath Harry's, hooked his thumb over Harry's, and slowly guided their joined hands down.

Harry squeezed his eyes shut and bit his lip. He was hardly able to breathe, and when Draco finally touched himself, the spike of arousal was so strong that he couldn't hold back a groan. He curled his fingers around Draco's in encouragement. God, this was incredible! Draco was incredible. To be here, back in his arms, in his life - it was almost painfully intense.

Groaning again, he put more force behind his movements, breathing soft sounds against Draco's skin with every thrust, feeling himself grow harder... Almost there! A little late it occurred to him that maybe he should wait until Draco was ready too, but right then, a tugging, tickling sensation began to spread out from under his tailbone, crawling down the back of his thighs, and he knew he wouldn't last much longer. He slowed to a gentle rocking, smiling when he felt Draco's thigh muscles tighten around him, squeezing him in a way that told him that Draco was getting close as well. Just a little more! With a sigh, he pressed his forehead into Draco's nape, buried himself as deep as he could, waiting with baited breath for the prickling sensation to flare, to turn into waves of heat and bursts of pleasure - and then it did, and he came longer and harder than he'd thought possible from something that wasn't full-blown sex, still pulsing when Draco moaned his own release a few seconds later.

Spent, he collapsed against Draco's back, breathing hard, listening to the hammering of his heart, waiting for his pulse to slow down and the pounding in his head to stop. There was a hot pressure behind his eyes, and a strange vibration against his chest puzzled him for a second until he realised that it was Draco, laughing silently.

"What's so funny?"

"I was sure I'd beat you to it," Draco panted.

Harry chuckled, too drained for a coherent reply, but the moisture he quickly wiped from his eyes had nothing to do with laughter.

oOoOoOoOoOo

Oh yes, Draco thought muzzily, a good while later, resting against Harry's chest, feeling rather exhausted but wonderfully sated, lathering a bloke definitely has its appeal!

"Fuck, Draco," Harry sighed, his hands rubbing Draco's bottom in a very relaxing way, "I wouldn't want that stuff inside me, but it makes for a hell of a handjob!"

Draco considered voicing his agreement but couldn't quite muster the necessary energy, so he simply nodded into Harry's neck and waved a hand in the general direction of the shower.

"Water," he croaked. It took a bit of an effort to straighten up enough to let Harry move. Two orgasms could definitely take it out of a bloke! His legs were still trembling, his arms felt like lead, and his fingers were all wrinkled and beginning to feel numb. But what a way to spend the day!

"Are we done with the bodywash?" Harry took the showerhead off the hook and turned the tap. "Can we proceed to shampoo?"

"Yes, my body feels thoroughly... cleansed, thank you very much."

Harry chuckled and raised the shower. Draco closed his eyes and enjoyed the sensation of warm water running over his shoulders and back. It felt almost as good as Harry's attention.

"Imagine what our dormmates would've said if they'd walked in on us in the shower. Like that bloke in Slytherin who always made such a fuss. What was his name?"

"Edgars. Simon Edgars. He would have had a heart attack." Draco shook his head. "I wonder what happened to him after school."

Harry hung the shower back up and stepped under it, pulling Draco towards him.

"I wonder what happened to a lot of people," he said quietly while he upended a bottle over Draco's head, squeezing a generous amount of shampoo onto his hair. "That's what I was thinking about, yesterday, when I had that flashback..."

Draco felt goosebumps prickle down his neck, and he wasn't sure they were only from the creepy sensation the gooey substance caused when it spread on his head and began to slip down his scalp. He shuddered.

"...about what happened to Luna and Neville and all the others in our class."

"I thought you were thinking about a prep-school for Muggle-borns."

"I was." Harry sprinkled a handful of water onto the shampoo and began to massage it into his hair. Draco leaned into the touch, feeling warm and relaxed. "I was wondering if some of them would like to help out as instructors."

"Lovegood and Longbottom as teachers?" Trust Harry to come up with a ludicrous idea like that!

"Why not? The children would have a blast with them."

"Learning what exactly? The quickest way to melt a cauldron? Or how to catch a Blibbering Humdinger?" Draco snorted derisively. "That oaf Hagrid would make a better teacher than those jokers."

He felt Harry stiffen and realised what he had just said. "Sorry," he said quickly, kicking himself mentally. "No offence." Fuck!

"It's all right," Harry said. He sounded slightly vexed, but he continued washing Draco's hair and Draco relaxed again. "He wasn't a particularly good teacher."

For the umpteenth time since they'd met Saturday, Draco had to keep his jaw from dropping.

"I thought the two of you were such close friends."

"We are, but that doesn't mean I think he was the right person for the job. I mean, who in their right mind would expose children to creatures like Blast-Ended Skrewts or Hippogriffs?"

"Who indeed?" Draco mumbled. Damn Hippogriffs! He scowled at the memory, then startled when he felt Harry touch the four long parallel scars on his forearm. They had faded over the years, but they were still slightly raised and the tissue underneath would always remain numb.

"Why did you make that stupid remark in class about Buckbeak? What was it you called him? A dumb ugly beast?"

"A great ugly brute," Draco corrected mechanically, watching Harry's fingers trail over his skin, surprised when he received signals of renewed interest from his body in spite of the rather unerotic topic of conversation - not forgetting two recent orgasms.

"Why did you do that? Hagrid had warned us not to insult them."

Draco closed his eyes, wishing for a split second there'd be a way around or, even better, out of this conversation, but things being what they were...

If I could change the past, I would.

Here was a chance to do exactly that - in a manner of speaking.

He took a deep breath.

"Father put me up to it in a way..." he said slowly.

"He wanted you to be attacked by a Hippogriff?" Harry blurted out immediately, and for once he sounded like the old Harry from school: all shock and righteous indignation. Draco smiled to himself and shook his head.

"No, that was my glorious idea. When Father heard that Hagrid was teaching classes, he asked me to report any mistakes, inappropriate teaching methods, that sort of thing. At the time, it seemed a good idea to... help matters along, so to speak."

"By provoking a Hippogriff? You're mental!" Harry said with conviction, shaking his head, then pulled him under the jet of water and began to rinse his hair rather roughly. "Did you know that your father was trying to get Dumbledore sacked so he could take over Hogwarts?"

Draco scoffed. "Use your brain, Harry! You saw how he treated me at seventeen. What makes you think he told me more when I was fourteen?" He raised his hands to rub his face. "He only told me enough to... make me believe he wanted the best for the school and the students."

"So you went and got your arm sliced by a raging Hippogriff."

Harry was done rinsing Draco's hair and reached for the shampoo again.

"It seemed the quickest way to cause Hagrid the most trouble."

"You could have been killed."

"And you would have cried buckets over my dead body, I know." Draco plucked the bottle out of Harry's hand. "I think we have firmly established that it wasn't my brightest moment. No need to rub it in any further. Speaking of rubbing..." He gestured at Harry's head. "Get wet."

Harry gave him an odd look but obediently stuck his head under the shower. Draco took advantage of the fact that Harry's eyes were closed to look him over unobserved. Yes, he had fleshed out nicely, just enough to be called lean instead of skinny. Apart from a light dusting of hair across his chest, his skin was as smooth as Draco remembered. He could still feel it under his fingertips, surprisingly soft for a man's, and he wanted to reach out and touch him again, run his hands down his back, over the firm muscles of his arse...

This time, his body's reaction was a bit more insistent. Fortunately, Harry chose this moment to step away from the water and Draco quickly slathered shampoo onto his head. He wouldn't mind another go, but not in the shower.

"Hey! No need to rip off my scalp!" Harry protested. "It wasn't all my fault that we couldn't stand each other!" He stabbed a finger at Draco, aiming in the general direction of his ribs.

"Is that so?" Draco deflected his hand easily. "Well, you seemed to like me well enough eventually."

"All right, I admit it. I thought you were cute-" Harry opened one eye. "The prettiest ferret I'd ever seen."

Was that a leer on Harry's face? Draco arched an eyebrow at him. And then his heart skipped a beat because his mind caught on to what they were doing: that they were talking about some of the darkest moments of their school years, and not only were they not arguing, they were actually teasing each other - well, Harry was teasing, at any rate...

"As a matter of fact, being a ferret was quite interesting." He shrugged, feigning indifference. "The unpleasant part of the experience was being bounced around by a one-eyed, peg-legged lunatic."

For a moment, the clatter of water against tiles was the only sound.

"It must have hurt," said Harry quietly, his face suddenly serious.

Draco returned his look evenly.

"I would have hurt you more," he said and slid his hands across Harry's scalp one more time. "You're done. Rinse!"

Harry looked at him with an inscrutable expression on his face. "Thank you," he said softly before he closed his eyes and stepped back under the stream of hot water, leaving Draco to wonder what exactly he was being thanked for.