It Was Only A Kiss

It was only a kiss

k i s s

- - - -

It started out with a kiss -

how did it end up like this?

It was only a kiss.

It was only a kiss.

- - - -

The killers with 'Mr. Brightside'

- - - -

Harry lay on his bed, restlessy turning around every five seconds. There had been a book on potions in his hands at a certain point, but he had soon tossed it away. He sighed dreamily.

"Harry, please stop distracting me," Ron muttered from his large four-poster bed. "You know much I detest reading up all these chapters for Potions."

Harry nodded. "Yes," he whispered distracted. He stood up lazily and strutted towards the window, sighing. With his head resting in his hands he crawled upon the chair in front it, staring outside.

"Harry." Ron growled, near to foaming at the mouth.

"Hm?" Harry turned around to face Ron.

"Stop humming that bloody cheerful song." Harry hadn't even realised he had been humming at all.

"Sorry." He smiled.

"Harry," Ron started sternly. "Either you tell me what the hell is going on with you, or please leave me alone so that I can at least try to pass this test."

"I'll - I'll just - go," Harry stuttered and almost fell over his own trunk as he practically ran out of his dorm.

He didn't know where he was heading and as soon as he'd arrived in a deserted corridor he stopped running. Panting he sat down in a dark corner upon an old mahogany bench.

His life had never been easy, but since this morning it has reached its summit of difficulty.

-

"Malfoy, give me that letter!" Harry had cried out.

"Make me." Draco had smirked, knowing how much the letter was worth.

Harry had attempted to grab his wand, but Draco had accio'ed it away. He had tried to battle Draco psychically, but the Slytherin seeker was stronger than he'd expected.

It was only when Harry was breathing heavily, with drops of sweat running down his head, that he had realised how smug Draco had looked. How very much in control. How that was the secret to Draco Malfoy's power. Always be in control - or at least make everyone else think you are.

That was exactly what he had been doing to Harry at that very moment.

Harry had to make Draco loose control. Do something the Slytherin would never expect.

And without thinking Harry had stepped closer to Draco - very much within his reach - and did the one thing that came naturally to him. He kissed him.

At first he just wanted to confuse Draco to grab his letter back, but the longer he kept his lips tightly pressed against the blonde's, the more he didn't want to let go. Draco didn't seem to respond to Harry's lips at all - he just stood there, motionless. Until Harry - without realising it - had activated his tongue which started to probe at Draco's lips. The blonde's lips hadn't put up much of a fight, they backed away almost instantly.

Harry had had the sudden crazy realisation that Draco seemed to be - enjoying this. His body had moved forward, aligned with Draco's which was pressed up against the wall. Harry's mouth had ravished Draco's hungrily, forgetting the letter that the Slytherin had dropped in the process.

When the Gryffindor had backed away, panting, Draco had smirked.

"Keep the letter," he had said, looking smug and composed as he had walked out of the owlery leisurely. Harry had cursed himself. How did Malfoy always seem to be on top of everything?

-

And now the blonde Slytherin was still on top. Harry couldn't get the feeling of that kiss out of his head. He had done it himself - cursed himself with this tantalizing memory. It was the price he had to pay for his own stupidity. He had never done such a thing before - he could just hit himself in the head. What had made him do this? What part of his body had caused him to kiss Draco - for fuck's sake - Malfoy?

The same Draco Malfoy he had to survive every day. It had been hard before, but it had been challenging. He didn't have to worry about blushing, getting his hair too ruffled or making himself look like an ass. It suddenly all mattered.

Much more mattered than before. Suddenly Snape mattered, especially the way he eyed Draco during Potions was suspicious - to say the least. Harry tried to keep his eyes on Draco as much as he could. For no rational reason of course, but he couldn't help himself. He just couldn't take his eyes off Draco.

The only other activity he engaged in lately was listening to music, closing his eyes and pretending he was with Draco. Spanish songs brought them to a tropical beach, dancing in the moonlight - dark and powerful songs made them overcome difficult situations with their love - sappy love songs made them make love to each other all night long in Draco's green and silver bed. Almost everything made him think of Draco.

He hated it, but he was acting like a pubescent schoolgirl with a huge crush.

-

He awoke with happiness and hope. He had even acquired knowlegde he had never dreamed he'd have - he knew the silliest things that made him happy and in love.

While walking to the Great Hall for breakfast he sung French lovesongs. He didn't quite know what it all meant, but he just felt it was right.

It was more than right when he caught a glimpse of silvery hair flowing on his left. He couldn't see anything but Draco and pushed him away from the breakfast crowd.

Draco spoke before Harry could've said anything.

"It was only a kiss."

"No - it wasn't!"

"It's all your wishful thinking, Potter."

"No - it isn't!"

Hands pushing a limp body against a wall, holding him still, forcing hungry lips against a mouth that doesn't participate nor denies the kiss.

"See?"

"What?" A silent smirk.

"You wanted me to kiss you."

"Again, wishful thinking."

"No!" A growl.

"Potter - get out of my way."

Hands shoving the other body away.

-

He bit his fingers - wanting to hurt them, punish them for touching Draco. He had trouble breathing - he needed to see Draco. As if he was some addiction of which Harry need a fix - real bad.

"Fuck!" he screamed to himself and the empty dorm. At least his roommates were all out to the Three Broomsticks, leaving him alone with his obsession. He thought of himself as pathetic - he was just literally screaming for Draco.

And it was all his own goddamn fault. If he had just smacked his fist into Draco's fist he had lost one of his best friends, but at least he could think straight. He had forgot all about Oliver's letter after the kiss. It had been Oliver he had kissed Draco for in the first place.

Ever since the ex-Quidditch captain had left Hogwarts he had stayed in touch with Harry. At first their contact had been based on an innocent crush, but after they both got that out of their systems they grew to be each other's best friends. At least twice a week they would write the other, telling all about their lives.

Oliver wrote about things he did, things Harry didn't approve of and the world - if it ever got out - wouldn't approve of either.

Harry had lost most of all his nails by know, gnawing on them like a crazed animal.

"It was only a kiss," was floating around in his head. He heard Draco say it - over and over again.

-

He couldn't look, it was killing him. He wanted to regain the control he once had. But he couldn't help it, the jealousy was consuming him. Draco had kissed him.

"It was only a kiss."

"No - it wasn't!"

"You only seem to want to believe yourself, don't you, Potter?"

"But - I - I saw it!"

Eyes grew larger. "You did?"

"I'm choking on your stupid alibi! Draco - you're lying!"

"It was only a kiss - really."

"Like our kiss, huh?"

"No," a softened voice. "Not at all like our kiss."

Lips seeking other lips - teeth biting into lips with pure jealous passion.

"You - are - mine."

-

Harry was slowly falling asleep on the grass near the gates of Hogwarts. He couldn't stand sleeping inside anymore, he couldn't get any rest there. He needed to be out.

He heard a man call for a cab to Hogsmeade with his wand - while he inhaled deeply. The smell of nicotine reached even Harry's nose.

He looked up, meekly, trying to remain invisable to the smoking man, when his stomach turned. Severus Snape was standing on the weakly lit porch with a cigarette between his lips.

How he hated that man. And before he could even figure out what to do - whether he wanted to hurt - no, kill - him right then and there, familiar footsteps drew near.

"You forgot something." A voice too well-known.

"Ah." Grunting.

He saw him touch his - chest. Pale fingers refastened a tie around the dark man's neck.

"Now, let me go," Harry whispered to himself, unaware to the tears falling from his eyes.

- - - -

j e a l o u s y

- - - -

I just can't look it's killing me
and taking control is
jealousy, turning saints into the sea
swimming through a sick lullaby -

choking on your alibi.

- - - -

The killers with 'Mr. Brightside'

- - -

TBC.