The Male Teenage Mind

One fine morning, Draco Malfoy prowled the corridors of Hogwarts. He had just completed his breakfast and was making his way back to the Slytherin common rooms.

The halls were crowded, so when Harry Potter passed by him, he resisted the temptation to haul the boy into an abandoned classroom and snog him senseless .... His feeling may come as a bit of a shock to you, but he was, after all, a teenage boy with common needs - and their last night together now seemed like a decade away.

Harry Potter, on the other hand, seemed to have no such qualms with displaying his affection for the blond boy. Passing deliberately close, he pinched Draco's waist, hard.

Draco, caught by surprise, yelped loudly and swatted at Harry's hand. Alarmed, people looked around to determine the source of the voice; it had come from Draco's vicinity - but no one dared accuse him of the sound. Even if it had been him [which, in itself, was highly unlikely], the chances were slim that he'd admit it.

Draco whirled around and screamed at Harry's back, 'Potter, what the hell do you think you're doing?'

Harry made a huge show of stopping, turning around and holding his hand to his chest, saying, 'Whatever might you be talking about, Draco?'

Draco - who had had enough of this crowded corridor, all the people within it and especially, especially, the way Harry kept surreptitiously licking his lips - grabbed

Harry's arm and dragged him into the nearest classroom, effectively catching everyone by surprise.

'What,' he hissed, 'was the meaning of that?'

To which he received a playful laugh. 'Just teasing, Draco ....'

Draco, to say the least, did not look amused.

'IT. HURT .'

Harry, finally understanding the seriousness of the situation [or, maybe not] said, 'So sorry, love.'

And let me tell you, Draco responded even worse to this comment than the last. Turning on his heel, he made to leave the room. Notice I said 'made to' and not 'did'. Which, to anyone with at least half a brain, means that Harry stopped him before he could. Which, incidentally, is what happened.

Draco gave Harry a cold look before once more attempting to leave the room - to, of course, no prevail.

Draco looked at Harry in order to glare at him again, but when he shifted his gaze, it was to find a huge smile. Draco pouted. How was he to compete with that?

Harry took hold of Draco's arms, pinned them above his head and slowly started kissing the other boy. Harry was just about to request entry of his tongue when Draco pulled away. Harry looked more confused than usual.

Draco pouted again. 'Harry, it really did hurt. You don't believe me.'

And he was whining so much that Harry started to get worried. More than usual, I mean.

'Okay, okay ...' he muttered. He kneeled down, lifted the side of Draco's t-shirt and softly started sucking the spot he had pinched earlier.

Draco moaned, softly.

When Harry pulled away, a red hickey marked Draco's pale skin. He said, in a voice far more husky than his own, 'Well, it doesn't look much better, but maybe it doesn't hurt so much anymore,' and stood up.

Draco smiled. 'Feels much, much better,' he purred.

And then Harry simply couldn't take it any longer, he had to feel those lips again, so he leant forward to claim them.

And just before he did, Draco whispered huskily in his ear.

'Wrong side, though, baby.'