Grey

GREY

by Loverly

I don't think we should do this, Harry says.

Why not? This is the way that men over thousands of years have done this. And, by the looks of you, it seems as though you do think we should do this, Draco says and leans over to kiss him.

Harry accepts, his lips awkward and pursed and seeming as though, at first, they are kissing a lemon rather than a boy. He gives into the kiss carefully, as though he were debating a theological debate -- he wants to get his point across without seeming too fanatic.

So you believe that this should be the end of it? Of everything? That is a rather apocalyptic world view, you know.

Nobody will understand.

Nobody needs to know.

I know, nobody needs to know. But what if they find out?

No, they won't. They can't. It's not going to happen, Draco says and carefully unbuttons the top of Harry's shirt, revealing a skinny neck and angular Adam's apple. His lips make a trail from Harry's right ear to his collarbone where he ends with a long, seductive kiss. Harry breathes sharply, careful not to moan.

Wait, Harry says and lifts up Draco's head with shaking hands.

What? Draco is impatient. He wants to go further.

I just don't know if this is right.

What is 'right?' There is no right, there is no wrong. There is no good, there is no bad...

That's what you Slytherins believe, isn't it? That there are no morals in the world and everything is a hazy disgusting shade of gray.

That's the way of the world. We're just realistic. Not idealistic fools like you Gryffindors over in your golden tower. But... that is not my point.

Harry begins to re button his shirt, but Draco's persistent hand stops him.

My point is that if there is a good, if there is a right... then this is it. I have never felt anything so right in my life.

Romantic, Malfoy. I would not have expected, coming from you...

Harry is interrupted as Malfoy dives in with lips eager and earnest, kissing him backwards in one smooth, aggressive motion. Harry immediately pushes him back and looks at him with wide and wild eyes.

The two boys stare at one another with an impatient passion.

Don't resist. This is what you want too.

I don't know if that's because I want it or it's because you keep telling me I want it.

Don't try to pin this on me. There are two of us sitting out here in the cold.

It is cold. Draco's pale arms are littered with goosebumps and Harry's teeth are chattering. A fine tinge of blue is seen on each of the boys' skin, their eyes reflecting the paleness of the snow on the ground.

Draco lifts a weary hand to his face and rubs his cheek. He peers at Harry through a splayed hand over his face.

Give it up, Potter. You can't deny yourself forever.

Harry looks like he still doesn't trust him. As if it is inherent in his nature to not be able to take Malfoy at his word. As if he does not want to learn more about himself... especially if it involves being gay. As if he is afraid of getting hurt. As if he is afraid Malfoy wants to fuck him and then brag about it to the world that he was able to make the famous Harry Potter take it up the ass.

Draco tries again, leaning in over the sticks and stones that dot the ground of the Forbidden Forest. He is more gentle this time. He keeps his eyes open and locked on Harry's. Their lips meet and Harry responds this time, allowing for the soft tongue Draco slips inside his mouth. The kiss becomes heated and Harry softly bites Draco's lower lip. Draco smiles and keeps his mouth on Harry's.

They part.

Not bad, eh, Potter?

Harry only smiles at him sheepishly. He looks down at his watch.

I have to go.

Now? But we only just got here.

I told them that I had to gather moss for herbology. They'll start to suspect something.

And have you started? I can help you if you want...

Harry lifts a small bag that had been resting next to his Quidditch equipment and shows it to Malfoy. Tufts of green moss is poking out of the seams and Draco sighs.

I think I'm all set, Harry says. Thank you, though, for the offer.

Harry lifts his supplies and his equipment and begins the trek back to the school without a further word.

Wait! Draco calls and Harry turns around. When can I... can we...?

Harry meets Draco's slate eyes with his own piercing emeralds.

Next week, he says and turns around. If it's sooner, I will let you know.

Draco nods slightly without smiling. Harry goes back to the castle, slightly slumped, weighed down by his packages.