Little Pink Pills

The "Hug Drug"

xxx

It's only when I lose myself in someone else
That I find myself

xxx

"Harry?" Draco asked some time later, his voice slightly nervous.

"Yes?"

"I think I don't feel it anymore. Do you?"

Now that Draco mentioned it, Harry did feel less elated than before. It scared him. It can't be over, not yet. please don't let it be over, he prayed.

"Oh no, you can't feel it either!" Draco was on the verge of hysteria, his voice high-pitched and eyes wide. "Do you have another pill? Please, I want more... Please, Harry," he pleaded helplessly.

The growing panic clutched at Harry's throat. "I don't have more!" he yelled hopelessly. It did not make sense. He looked at the clock - it has not even been two hours yet since they took the pills, and Dudley said it would last four hours. His mind was reeling searching for an explanation; they must have done something wrong.

The Ecstasy was still there, he could feel it lurking beneath the surface - like driving down a side road after taking a wrong turn, but still hearing the sounds of the busy motorway in the air. All he needed was to find a way back up there.

"It can't be over," Harry stated in determination. He stood up from the window seat and started pacing, rubbing his hands together while thinking of a way to get the drugs working again.

Wait, that's unusual. He looked down at his hands, still moving slowly against each other. The skin felt rough. And smooth. He could not tell which, but either way - he liked it.

"What are you doing?" asked Draco. His eyes exceptionally bright, he appeared to be close to tears.

"Come," Harry beamed and held his right hand to help Draco up.

As Draco took his hand and they touched for the first time since taking the drugs, a shot of excitement surged through Harry and he could not let go of Draco. He moved his hand around so Draco's palm would face up, and with the fingertips of his left started stroking it, slowly tracing each crease, tracking each line: life, head, and heart.

Draco gasped. "See? I told you it's not over," said Harry, still stroking, delighted with the dazed nod and agreeing murmur he got in response. Draco's eyes were glowing as though someone had cast 'Lumos' inside him, following the movements of Harry's index finger and thumb as they travelled up and down each long elegant finger, from tip to base. His skin was snowy white and so smooth to the touch, like fine china, and Harry found himself entranced by it.

No, it was definitely not over.

Harry's heart skipped a beat when Draco used his free hand to tenderly scrape his nails over the inner side of Harry's stretched right forearm, from the sensitive spot at the nook of his elbow, all the way down to his wrist and then back again, leaving a trail of screaming nerve endings behind.

Harry was not used to this - to be touched. In the ten years of living with the Dursleys, the only physical attention he received was as Dudley's punching bag. Even here at Hogwarts there were only a few friendly hugs from Hermione and occasionally the motherly ones of Mrs Weasley. But this... this was so very different. He did not know how much he craved for it, for human contact, he did not even know he needed it and now he could not seem to have enough.

"Your skin feels amazing," Draco said in awe, his hand now trailing up Harry's arm to the fabric of his short sleeve. "And also your shirt," Draco added. Harry had never felt anything like that; his skin was so sensitive it was as if Draco was caressing his very core. Then Draco withdrew his hands and smoothed them over his own robes. "Wow! It's not just you, my clothes feel wonderful," he said.

A sudden pang pierced Harry's heart at Draco's words. Deep down he knew it was silly, that Draco did not mean to hurt him. But it still stung. He wanted Draco to keep touching him and he wanted Draco to think he was wonderful too.

Draco ran his hands over his own robes, his face, his blond hair...

Harry tried to look away. He was jealous, but did not know whom or what he was jealous of.

"You must try it!" said Draco and reached up to push his fingers through Harry's hair.

And just like that, everything was fine with the world again, all negative emotions gone in a heart beat. Forgotten. An indescribable sensation shot through Harry, like electric currents moving rapidly up and down his body from head to toes. Draco's fingers were leaving imprints of themselves wherever they touched, as if hundreds of ghostly fingers massaged Harry's skull. Harry lowered his head for easier access and moaned in gratification.

"You like it, don't you?" Draco teased.

"Mmm... yeah..."

"You can return the favour, you know," Draco hinted.

Harry did not need any further invitation - Draco's hair always fascinated him. From the first time he laid eyes on Draco, he was captivated by its uniqueness and ethereal colour. Sometimes when they played Quidditch against each other, Harry would find himself watching dreamily as rays of sunshine reflected off those silvery strands, completely forgetting about the Snitch.

He took a deep breath and reached his hand to touch the blond locks, only to retreat it hastily and take a startled step back when within a single movement the tightly pulled-back hair loosened and fell lightly around Draco's head, the front strands running down his cheeks toward the chin and framing his face.

Draco laughed at Harry's shock. "It's OK; you just broke the charm I used for styling."

"Charm? I always thought you use some kind of gel... and that it will be all sticky... and hard..." Harry babbled, not able to take his eyes off Draco's new hairdo.

"Gel? What's that? And why would it be sticky? My hair is not sticky!" Draco moped.

"It's just a Muggle thing, your hair is not sticky at all, it's... it's quite nice actually. Even prettier when it's like..." Harry waved in the direction of Draco's head, "that."

"Father hates it when I let it down like that; says I look like a girl."

Harry snorted. "He's the one who wears bows in his hair," he said and Draco snickered. It made Harry proud of himself.

Harry stepped closer to Draco and passed his fingers through his hair. It was incredible; fluid and gleaming like strings of water. It reminded Harry the texture of his Invisibility Cloak. He raked his nails gently on Draco's scalp as he knew would feel good, and was awarded with a murmur of pleasure. He did it again.

"I take back everything bad I've ever said about Muggles," Draco said in atonement. "Oh god, I can see why they call this thing Ecstasy," his eyes rolled back in bliss.

"I know," Harry agreed. "It's almost too good to be real. I can't believe I haven't tried it sooner. I feel like I've wasted sixteen years when all I needed to be happy was to swallow one little pill." He was grateful Dudley gave him this present; he never felt as close to his cousin as he did now.

"But why did the Muggles make it illegal?" Draco asked and bowed his head in encouragement for Harry to keep his ministrations.

"I can't understand it either. If it was up to me," Harry mused, "I would have put it in the water supply so everyone could share it. Just imagine - it can stop crime. And wars!"

"Maybe someone should give it to the Dark Lord," Draco chuckled, "that would be a funny sight."

"Yeah, somebody should."

Draco glanced at him through his fringe, biting his lip. "Sorry, I didn't mean to bring him up again," he apologised.

"It's OK." Harry shrugged. "I don't care about him right now," he said and brushed loose strands of hair from Draco's glinting eyes.

"Good." Draco raised his head and returned to fondle Harry's black mane.

Harry put his hands on the small of Draco's back, pressed both index fingers to the base of his spine, and dragged them slowly upwards. Draco arched his back and snuggled closer.

"Like it, don't you?" Harry asked teasingly as Draco did before.

"Mmhmm..." Draco hummed into his shoulder as Harry repeated the movement.

Draco's arms wrapped about Harry's neck and Harry tightened his own arms around Draco's waist, pulling him into his embrace.

Incredible warmth spread in Harry's body and for a second he thought he might cry. His emotions were so raw and strong and clear, they were practically radiating from his skin. There was something incredibly holy and purifying in their hug, a kind of comfort he had never known before, that left him breathless. It was the most satisfying feeling, new channels of empathy and acceptance opening in his mind as their essences combined.

Harry did not want to ruin the magical profound moment, but he needed to say something. He moved his head back, just enough so he could look into Draco's eyes.

"Thank you," they both whispered at the same time. Then laughed at the corny emotional outburst they shared.

Neither noticed nor cared the fact they, only a couple of hours and a pill ago two sworn enemies, were still clinging desperately to each other.

They spent the next minutes - or hours, they were too overjoyed to care - chatting about flying and food and school, and about what the future held for them. Harry was optimistic, confident that any potential outcome was going to be a positive one.

Then Draco discovered that if he bowed his neck low enough, blood would flow to his head, making it pleasantly heavy. Harry more than once had to catch him when he became too dizzy and lost his balance. Though he did not stop Draco from doing it again... they both seemed to keep making up excuses for contact, cuddling in every opportunity they had. Their touches were intimate and sensual, but always innocent and never sexual - like divine bodiless souls fusing together in space and time.

Harry concluded that the more they moved the more fun they had, and told Draco who immediately began jumping up and down and flapping his arms. So Harry followed suit. The huge ear-to-ear grins never left their faces and they laughed like mad, so loud that owls came to stare at them through the window. This of course only made them laugh harder.

Time lost all meaning and Harry believed they would stay that way forever. They were beyond the laws of physics - the real world too slow, too low, to reach them.

The drug had a wavy kind of effect to it that they now learned to recognise without panicking as they did the first time. At times, it would go all speedy and they filling them with pulsing energy that made them bounce around, ecstatic and wild. And then, quite without warning, it would change - the rush would still completely and they would find themselves drifting back into each other's arms, hands mussing hair, massaging backs... Content in being held, being touched and just... Be.

The sun climbed higher in the sky and they were hot and sweaty. "I have an idea," said Draco, lifting his hand as if answering something in class. "We can keep ourselves cool like dogs do." He opened his mouth, hanged out his tongue, and started panting rapidly. He looked insane. But cute, Harry had to admit to himself.

It did not take long before Draco began coughing. "Not a good idea," he shook his head. "I'm parched."

"Oh right, I nearly forgot!" Harry cried in alarm. "We need to drink!" he suddenly recalled hearing about kids who took Ecstasy and died of dehydration. A maternal instinct he did not know he possessed took over and he dragged Draco to the food table. "What do you want? Water? Pumpkin juice?" he asked anxiously.

"I dunno," Draco shrugged.

"You must drink, Draco! I don't want you dying on me!" Harry did not think he was overreacting at all. "So what will it be?"

"Er..." Draco looked at the ceiling and frowned "...jjjjuice," he finally decided.

Harry poured quickly and handed it to him.

Draco took one gulp, and immediately spat it back in the goblet and handed it back to Harry. "Bah," he announced and wrinkled his nose in disgust.

Harry filled the second goblet with water. "Here, try this," he gave it to Draco and poured more water for himself.

Draco took a small wary sip and then emptied the entire content into his throat. "Much better," he said and seized the other goblet, just as it reached Harry's lips, and drank that one as well. Harry did not mind, he found he liked playing the mummy.

When Draco had enough to quench his thirst, Harry managed to drink too. It was strange at first, as if he somehow forgot how to swallow. However, when he did swallow, he understood why Draco liked it - it was cold and refreshing and he enjoyed how he could follow the water's exact route down his body.

"I love water, I'll never drink anything else," Draco stated decisively. Then he walked back to the window. "I wish we could go swimming in the lake... Lots of water there."

Harry walked over to him and patted his back. "We can go some other time," he said. "Meanwhile the closest thing you have is the sink," he joked and sat down.

"Oh right, the sink!" Draco turned and disappeared through the toilet door.

Harry smiled at his enthusiasm and waited. After what felt like forever since Draco left, he began to worry. Not to mention he was missing him dearly. His new and a-little-exaggerated maternal instinct did not make things any better... He could drown, he thought, and rushed to the rescue.

The toilet door was slightly ajar so Harry pushed it and went inside. As it turned out, Draco did not need saving after all - he was bent over the sink with his head under the tap, water running over his hair, turning the blond a shade darker and trickling down his neck, soaking the collar of his robes.

"What are you doing?" Harry asked.

Draco straightened as he heard Harry's voice, and shook his head quickly from side to side, wet blond strands flying around, sprinkling droplets of water all over the place. "It's fun!" he grinned and motioned for Harry to come closer. He laid his hands on Harry's cheeks and Harry gasped - Draco's palms were wet and cold and made each hair on his body stand on end. He shivered as Draco stroked his face, his neck, his arms... Streaming sensation had begun to flow through his muscles, awakening his body and bringing back the thrill of the Ecstasy. With Draco's encouragement, he removed his glasses and put his head beneath the cascading torrent, letting it wash away his thoughts and tickle his skin while Draco's chilly hand sneaked under his shirt and up his spine, activating pleasant explosions at each vertebra.

After a while, Draco tried to push Harry away from the sink. "My turn to get wet," he said in an imitation of his old whiny tone.

Harry had an idea. "As you wish," he said, gathered water in his joined hands, and threw it on Draco.

Draco yelped and Harry froze, worried that Draco was going to be angry with him. But then Draco pounced, shoved Harry to the wall, and splashed him with handful after handful of cold water. It was Harry's time to scream, but he was also immensely relived to know that Draco was not cross with him. He inched back to the sink, eyes closed against the squirt, and began splashing back.

They giggled and squealed and shrieked, each trying to get the other as drenched as possible, until Draco slipped on the huge puddle that was once a floor and fell flat on his back on the wet stone. He kept on laughing.

Harry seized the opportunity and sat on his legs, straddling him and efficiently holding him down. He caught Draco's arms, pinning them at his sides, and leaned forward. "Do you surrender?" he asked playfully.

"Yes, yes, I surrender," Draco managed between chuckles. "What do you think I am, a stubborn Gryffindor?"

"Oh, do shut up," Harry mock-scolded and swatted Draco lightly on the back of his hand. He stood up and helped Draco to his feet.

"My arse feels cold..." Draco turned around peering over his shoulder, trying unsuccessfully to see his own back, like a dog chasing his tail. "Does it look wet to you?"

"Probably is, just like the rest of you," Harry answered cheerfully. He grabbed Draco's waist and walked him outside the toilet and into the sunlight.

Harry shivered. His sodden T-shirt was getting colder by the minute and clung to his skin. So he peeled it off.

"Do you mind if I'll take off my robes too?" asked Draco. "I... I'm not wearing any other clothes beneath."

"Ah?" was Harry's intelligent respond to that news.

"Don't worry, I'm not completely starkers, I have my underwear."

"Oh, okay." For some reason, Harry was not very cold anymore.

Draco stripped off his robes and threw them carelessly on a table. He had his back to Harry and Harry found himself ogling. Draco was left wearing only his black boots and underwear. Only Draco did not wear normal underwear - his were made of some black velvety fabric, impossibly tight and reached just below his knees.

Draco must have seen him staring when he turned around. "Do you like it? It cost a fortune, not many people can afford that kind of thing."

Harry was relieved realising Draco was asking if he liked his undergarment and not... something else.

"It was especially moulded to my body," Draco continued to explain; "With a charm to make it fit perfectly so there's no need for stitches or elastic-bands or anything." He patted his hips to emphasise. "It's extremely comfortable."

Harry had to agree it really was fitting perfectly, like thick second skin. Not showing every intimate detail, but still enabling him to see every curve and every bump of Draco's body. He quickly looked back to Draco's face instead.

"You're not as skinny as I imagined," Draco said. Perhaps Harry was not the only one staring...

After discovering his prophesied horrific destiny, Harry no longer felt like a child and hated still looking like one. He trained and exercised, and was no longer the scrawny boy he used to be. He was not very muscular either, but his chest was more defined than before, his shoulders wider, and his arms stronger. "I've been working out," he said, glad that Draco noticed.

Draco walked over to him. "And you're not hairy, either." He said. He caressed Harry's chest lightly and Harry nearly forgot how to breathe.

"Neither are you," Harry said and mirrored Draco's actions. Draco was completely smooth; even that little trail below the navel, the only thing Harry had, was absent.

"Yeah," Draco placed his hand on top of Harry's and entwined their fingers so they were caressing his chest together, "and I prefer it that way."

Harry had been frustrated when he had arrived back at Hogwarts and discovered most of his Housemates had already started shaving, while he did not have a trace of bristles yet. And even Neville had chest hair by now. But Draco prefers it that way... Maybe being hairless was a good thing after all.

Harry noticed Draco was shivering and thought he was cold, so he gathered him into his arms. The embrace was even more incredible now without the clothes to separate them. albeit they were both cold and slightly wet, once they touched skin-to-skin sparkles ignited between them and satisfying tenderness spread through Harry's insides. The amphetamines were dancing in his brain, accelerating his bloodstream and filling his mind with sweet euphoria as he rubbed Draco's back and arms in quick movements, trying to stop his quivering.

Draco buried his face in the hollow of Harry's neck. His hair had the fragrance of daffodils and the scent filled Harry's nostrils. He breathed it in deeply and closed his eyes, and in his mind they were transported into a blossoming sunny field, just him and Draco forever beneath the wide blue sky. Little drops of water trickled from Draco's hair to tickle Harry's collarbone and it felt like the summer rain on their mental trip to wonderland. Harry was lost in Draco and yet it was the closest he had ever felt to himself.

A soft humming sound vibrated through Harry's body and he opened his eyes. It was coming from Draco. "Are you purring?" he asked.

"No..." Draco murmured into his shoulder and Harry could feel him smiling against the naked skin.

Harry slowed his movements, his fingertips kneading into Draco's flesh, massaging his muscles and eliciting more of those delicious purrs.

Draco's hair was almost dry by now and his body was slack and limp against his. "Are you tired?" Harry asked.

"No, not at all," Draco looked at him. "Are you?" he asked worriedly, a frown appearing between his eyebrows.

"No." In fact, it felt as if there were toothpicks stuck in his eyelids, keeping them wide open. Sleeping seemed like a farfetched idea.

"Oh, oops. Sorry," Draco said bashfully. He lifted his hands and started imitating Harry's actions by massaging his back. "I wasn't being tired, it's just that... I'm a little bit lazy," he admitted.

"Don't worry, I was enjoying myself anyway," Harry reassured and squeezed Draco's waist before releasing him. "But now I need to go use the loo." He turned around and walked towards the toilet.

"Wait!" Draco called and Harry turned to see him, body hunched forwards, one leg across the other, and hands over his groin. "But I have to go now, too!" he cried, looking like a helpless toddler.

Harry could not help being amused by Draco's childish behaviour. Before today, before he truly became to know Draco, he considered it a flaw. But now he learned to accept it as a part of who Draco was, one of the many things that made him so unique. He even started seeing it as endearing - charming in a Draco-ish kind of way. "You can go in first," he said and opened the door for Draco like a perfect gentleman.

When Draco came out of the toilet, he had a huge grin on his face. "I really really love this pill thingy," he stated.

Harry was happily surprised to discover that even peeing felt great - warm and fuzzy somehow, like snoozing. He tried to remember if it was always that good, but eventually he just let it go because all that matters is the Here and Now. What an epiphany...

When he finished, he found Draco standing in front of the window with his back to him. He watched as particles of sunlight danced happily on the edges of Draco's hair like an aura, making silver shine with gold. He came close behind him, moving his fingers through those yielding blond strands, breathing in the intoxicating flowery scent and closing his eyes.

"I love your hair," he whispered behind Draco's ear. "Can I keep it?" he asked in a childish whine.

"Sorry," Draco chuckled. "It comes attached with the rest of me."

"I don't mind," Harry admitted and his hands sneaked around Draco, holding him closer against his chest.

Draco landed his head back on Harry's shoulder and his hand reached up to cradle Harry's cheek. "Then it's yours," he said, and in that moment Harry knew - this was love. Not the nauseating feeling in the stomach while looking at a pretty face like the one he had with Cho, and not the tales of cheap sexual conquests he heard from his Housemates. The real thing - Love - pure and simple.

xxx

Something beautiful is happening inside for me
Something sensual, it's full of fire and mystery
I feel hypnotised, I feel paralysed
I have found heaven

xxx

Harry found himself sitting on the window seat, eyes fixed on Draco who was standing in front of him. He was magnificent as a Greek god: Ivory skin shimmering in the sunlight, fair hair fluttering in the wind, eyes closed as he stretched - spreading his arms as if offering himself to the skies.

Harry could not resist...

As if to make sure the amazing creature before him was real, he reached out his right hand to Draco's sternum, moving it slowly and admiringly over the slick skin. Down his chest and lower, trailing adoring fingers down the path between the ribs, lower to the taut stomach, mapping each carve of the muscles he found there, and lower still... his attention drawn to the dark dimpled navel just below, his fingertips spiralling around it like a lost orbit.

Draco gasped, his lips parting just enough for Harry to get a glimpse of white teeth and the tip of a pink tongue.

"You're gorgeous," Harry stated.

"That's not what you told me before," Draco said. "You think I'm too feminine, remember?" He pouted.

"I lied," Harry admitted. "You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen," he said, hypnotised as the muscles flexed beneath his touch. His hand found its way to a hipbone and it astonished him how he never noticed before that hipbones were incredibly sensual. Or was it just Draco's hipbones? Almost reflexively, his hand closed around it and he pulled Draco closer.

Draco did not object. He came even nearer to stand between Harry's parted legs. "Do you really think so? That I'm gorgeous?" he asked and tilted his head to the side, exposing a long flawless neck and drawing Harry's greedy eyes to the pale skin.

"Oh, yes." The answer came as a mere breath as Draco choose that very moment to lift his left knee up to the window seat and place it on Harry's side.

"You're not too bad yourself," said Draco in a low voice Harry had never heard him using before.

For a change, Harry actually felt good with himself and his body, much better than he ever did, but he wanted to hear it from Draco, to get his approval. So he let all his insecurities rise and laid them before Draco to fix. "What about my horrible messy hair? And my glasses? ...And I'm way too short for my age." He pouted much the same as Draco had before. "Oh, and don't forget the scar on my forehead."

Draco peered down at him. "First of all, we're the same height, so you are not short," he said pointedly.

Then Draco's gaze shifted and Harry followed it to the place his hand must have slipped at some point from Draco's hipbone to his thigh, where he was unconsciously caressing the velvet-covered skin.

Draco did not seem to mind, and Harry did not want to stop.

Fingers were weaving through his hair and Harry's eyelids drifted down. "Second, you have constant Quidditch-Hair. Some boys would kill to have that look, you know," Draco said a little enviously. He tried to smooth the black untamed hair down, and seemed very amused to watch it bounce up again at all directions.

The hand moved down from Harry's hair to his neck and onto his shoulder. Then a second hand came up on the other side as Draco balanced himself to raise his other knee to the window seat as well, straddling Harry.

Harry's eyes flew open and he gulped. He was suddenly very aware of their position, of the heat that spread everywhere their bodies touched, of the fact someone was now practically sitting in his lap, and how good that felt. He inhaled deeply, trying to calm his drumming heart. The weather became much hotter and his palms began to sweat.

Draco leaned back to get a better look at Harry's face. "Now those glasses..." He pursed his lips and shook his head. "They really are hideous," he said gravely. "But you know what the best part about them is? They can be taken of!" He yanked the offending article off Harry's face and tossed them distastefully to the other side of the seat.

Their eyes met, green reflecting in silver. Draco sighed as his gaze moved upwards to Harry's forehead. "As for that infamous scar..." he reached his index finger to tenderly trace the zigzag line and Harry stopped breathing from the intimacy of that simple touch. Draco leaned forward again, much closer than before. Silky blond locks tickled Harry's cheek and a hot breath ghosted over his ear. "If you ask me... I think scars are sexy," Draco whispered, his lips brushing lightly at Harry's earlobe, causing a tremor to run down his spine. At Draco's words, Harry's previous nervousness dissipated and was replaced by something new. Something primal and deeper, a strange warm tug at the pit of his stomach.

Desire.

Harry's mind was no longer able to control his movements, his body becoming simply an extension of his will. Draco's face was so close to his, their breaths mingling together, and Harry did the only thing he could at that moment. Something he never dreamed could happen.

He kissed Draco Malfoy.

Draco's lips had the most remarkable texture, full and squishy, and he responded immediately. It was not awkward like when Cho kissed him last year, not even when Draco had to cup Harry's cheeks and angle his head, so their noses would stop bumping. The kiss with her felt wrong, mechanical and cold. This kiss, with Draco... This kiss felt right. Natural. Flowing. As if everything that had ever happened between the two of them directed them to this perfect moment.

Harry's lips parted, his mouth moving on its own as though he had been doing this his entire life. He captured Draco's lower lip gently between his teeth and sucked it in, running his tongue over it, tasting and teasing while Draco's mouth opened and closed over his, occasionally letting his own tongue drag languidly over Harry's teeth.

Harry's hands moved up to entangle at Draco's hair and tilt his head further. He released Draco's lip from his mouth only to have it replaced by a velvety wet tongue that he met eagerly with his own, sliding it sensually against Draco's and chasing it into Draco's warm waiting mouth. Their kiss intensified, growing faster and deeper like a narcotic crave.

Draco's mouth left his and descended on his neck, sucking on his pulse point. Harry hissed as Draco's teeth grazed over his sensitive skin. He had never paid any attention to his neck and had no idea how erogenous it was. It was a very pleasant surprise. He roamed his hands over Draco's body - down his chest and waist, along the outside of his folded legs and inwards to scratch the firm thighs with his fingernail... around his hips and up his back, then moving lower... lower to where Draco's back curved outwards, and he reached round pliable flesh. Harry grasped it tightly and pulled Draco closer, causing him to groan and bite harder. They were pressed together from lips to hips, hearts beating against strong smooth bare chests, their bodies moulding like two halved of a divine whole.

Wet mouths, sharp teeth, and soft lips filled Harry's world. He had never felt anything like this. Never even dared to dream about it and now it was happening.

And so very fast.

Draco scratched at his back, leaving flaming trails wherever he touched as Harry stretched his lips over Draco's pale slender shoulder, biting and nibbling. Harry proceeded to trace Draco's collarbone with his open-mouthed kisses, tasting his skin and savouring the mild salty flavour until he reached the hollow at the base of Draco's throat. He flicked his tongue in and out, unconsciously following the pace of Draco's body as he rocked back and forth in Harry's lap, hips moving rhythmically, causing the most delicious friction and setting fire in his groin. Harry's heartbeat pounded away as a wave after wave of heat shot up through his stomach to the top of his head. He clutched at Draco's bum in encouragement as they kissed feverishly, breaths quickening as they lost themselves in the perfection of it all.

All the blood in Harry's body was rushing to the same place, leaving him light-headed and feeling high. Was it the drugs? Was it Draco? He could not tell anymore. And he did not care. Whatever it was - he was addicted. To his ears, every sigh sounded like a declaration of love and every moan held the promise of forever.

Harry's head was pushed abruptly backwards and hit the glass window, but he could feel no pain. Draco roused on his knees and Harry looked up at him: he was panting heavily through his reddened parted lips, pale hair falling down his flushed cheeks, and the eyes...

Hungry.

Hungry for him.

Draco looked deep into his eyes and a moment later his hot mouth crushed into Harry's. Strong, demanding, wanting. Never in his life had Harry felt so needed, living most of his life being constantly reminded by the Dursleys what a burden he was to them. And now... now this amazing person was kissing him as if he was trying to steal the oxygen out his lungs. And he could feel just how much Draco needed him by the hardness that was grinding keenly against his rib cage. It was surprisingly satisfying; knowing they both felt the same way, reacted the same way, their bodies synchronised. Harry ran his hands up and down the back of Draco's strong thighs, occasionally cupping and squeezing his buttocks - a place he declared to be his favourite place on earth. He arched his back, and pressed Draco to him, yearning to elicit more of those lustful gutturally sounds from that beautiful mouth, wanting to make him scream with pleasure. But Harry got something even better than that when Draco tipped his head back and what came out of his mouth was not a scream, but a husky whisper of one perfect single word - "Harry."

When Draco finally lowered himself back to Harry's lap, leaving an empty space between them, it was much too far away for Harry's liking. He tried to tug Draco closer, closer to the growing need that was building down his body, but stopped when Draco's hand slid down the gap between them, down Harry's sweaty chest and stomach, and downwards to rub lightly over the bulge in his jeans. Harry's eyes widened and he gasped, his body heat mounting and his muscles jolting from the intensity of that single light touch.

Draco was looking at him intently, his face serious, and a strange feeling of doubt crept into Harry's brain. Something was not right; he needed time to think. But Draco's face was now so close, eyes half closed, breath tingling Harry's moist lips... He looked so ready and inviting, and all Harry could do was close the distant and push his doubts away.

They kissed passionately and Draco kept adding more pressure, the heel of his palm moving slowly and firmly, only coarse fabric separating it from flesh and skin. The stimulation was almost too much and yet not enough, and Harry found it was getting harder and harder to breathe as suddenly even Dudley's over-sized jeans became too confining.

Draco's other hand was working too...

Harry's belt buckle opened.

And then a button.

A zipper lowered...

It felt so good and Harry wanted it so bad. Then why is that voice in his head getting stronger? That annoyingly rational voice that sounded so much like Hermione was telling him to slow down. To stop before it was too late.

So he listened to it.

"Wait," he panted, and placed his hands on top of Draco's to stop him from going farther.

"Why?" Draco asked just as breathlessly.

"We need to slow down a bit." Nevertheless, he made no effort to move Draco's hands from where they so comfortably rested.

"But you want this. I can feel you do," said Draco and through the jeans grabbed the very hard evidence to prove just that.

"Oh, god," Harry whimpered and his hips jerked uncontrollably into Draco's palm.

Draco smirked. He tried to move his hand again, but Harry stopped him.

"But I've never... It's too fast." Harry did not want to admit he had never done this before, and he certainly did not want to know if Draco had, either.

Draco leaned forward and nuzzled his nose into Harry's ear. "Don't worry, you can top," he whispered and smiled suggestively.

Top? Top what? What the hell does it mean? Harry's mind was spinning, he did not know what Draco was talking about, the whole situation was too confusing, and Draco's proximity was interrupting his thought process. "No. Wait," he repeated.

"But we can't wait." Draco turned to look at the clock on the wall. "It has already been more than four hours, the effects will end soon." he looked back at Harry. "We must hurry up before it's over," he said, his voice anxious.

All the pleasurable sensations that flooded Harry's body disappeared like in a swish of a wand, leaving a cold plunging sensation in his stomach. Is that all it was? The effects of the Ecstasy? he asked himself. Then it was all a lie...

Draco moved for another kiss.

"It's already over," Harry snapped and pushed Draco's hands away.

Draco halted mid-way and his eyes widened in surprise.

"Get off me," Harry hissed between clenched teeth. He could not stand being so close to Draco anymore. He was furious. And above all - he was hurt.

Draco stared at him in disbelief and did not move, and Harry could not wait any longer. He needed air, he needed to get away, he needed the earth to open up and swallow him whole. "I said, get off me! GET OFF!" Harry shouted and shoved Draco backwards to the floor.

"What's wrong with you?" Draco yelled, holding the back of his head where it hit the stone floor. His hair was dishevelled, his lips swollen, and red marks covered his neck. Souvenirs from their previous activities. He looked confused and disoriented at first, but then his expression changed and he looked enraged. He stood up, grabbed his wet robes from the table it was laying on, and marched into the toilet, slamming the door behind himself with a deafening bang.

The harsh sound shook in Harry's ears and he wanted to do something, to prove that he was angry too, but there were no other rooms to run to, no more doors to try to break. So instead he hit the window with his fist, cursed at the crack it made in the glass and felt utterly miserable.

xxx

Did I need to sell my soul
For pleasure like this?
Did I have to lose control
To treasure your kiss?
Did I need to place my heart
In the palm of your hand?
Before I could even start
To understand

xxx