Mush

'I love you.'

He regarded me for a few quiet moments, his chin on his hand and a speculative expression in those big green eyes. He rolled languidly over onto his back, contemplated the bed hangings for a while, played with a tassel from the curtains. Then, with the air of one making a great revelation he said, 'I don't think I believe you.'

'You can't not believe me!' I declared, exasperated. 'I love you!'

'You're only saying it 'cause I asked you to.'

'It's true!'

'But why?' he demanded. 'It doesn't make any sense. Tell me why you love me.'

Now that was going too far. I wasn't going to go all mushy on him. I don't do mush.

'Because I do. I just do, ok?'

'That's not very convincing, Draco.'

I wanted to slap him just then, but that wouldn't have been particularly convincing either.

'I've just bared my soul to you Potter, you heartless bastard. I just made a complete fool out of myself for you. I just ripped out my heart and offered it to you on a plate, and you pissed all over it! How can you do this to me?'

Yes, I have a melodramatic streak in me. Deal with it.

He stuck out a wet pink tongue that made my insides shiver, and then popped it back in and grinned at me.

'How can you love a heartless bastard? I don't think you do. Give it up, Draco, I always know when you're lying.'

'I'm not lying. I love you!' The words were getting easier to say now, anger overcoming embarrassment as I threw them in his face yet again. 'You wanted me to say it and I said it. Now you don't believe me? Well, fuck you!'

'No,' the light of my life said thoughtfully.

'What?'

'No, you can't fuck me. Not until you love me.'

I stared at him. Gobsmacked. I couldn't believe what I was hearing.

'You're kidding,' I whispered weakly. Then pulled myself together, turned my plea into an order. 'You'd better be bloody kidding.'

'I mean it,' he said, and I could tell that he did. He sounded amused, but sincere.

'Harry,' I managed, through gritted teeth, 'I love you. I adore you. I sodding worship you, you little piece of shit!'

Oops. Kinda ruined the effect at the end there. Let's try that again.

'Harry, I love you. If you don't let me fuck you I'm going to go insane and murder you.'

No, that wasn't right either.

'Harry-'

'Draco,' he cut in, 'you're not helping yourself. I don't need you to say anything. I just want you to love me.'

'I DO!' I howled at him. 'Now let's fuck already!'

Not the smoothest come hither I've ever used. But it expressed my immediate feelings.

Harry -sweet, adorable, sadistic Harry- was not impressed. He gave me a look, that indescribable look he gives, the one unreadable expression his face can form. Then he stretched out a casual foot and shoved me off the bed.

'No sex, Draco. Get used to it.'

He got to his knees on the bed and gazed down at me dispassionately as I lay in a snarling heap on the cold stone floor. Then he blew me a kiss and picked up a book from his bedside table. And settled down to read. The. Bloody. Bastard. Settled. Down. To. Read.

With me lying in a snarling heap, no less. Limbs a-tangle, hair mussed, eyes blazing. If I didn't know better I'd think the guy had no dick.

Of course, I do know better.

'Ha-rry!' I whined, all pretence at dignity abandoned, 'What do you want from me?'

'Love me,' he said from behind his book. 'Now go away and don't come back until you do.'

I growled. I swore. I left.

*

My own bed was cold and empty and boring as hell. I tossed and turned in it, horny and bloody pissed off, wondering exactly what the little pillock thought he was doing.

He was being completely unreasonable.

Of course I loved him.

What was his problem anyway? He'd never minded before. It wasn't though we were waiting until our wedding night, for Merlin's sake. We'd been fucking on a regular basis for the past six months.

Good sex. Very, very good.

So what was this sudden obsession? Fine he wanted to be loved. Who doesn't? But I had said it and meant it and I did bloody love him. Kicking me out of his bed was not the reaction I deserved. Besides, it wasn't fair. He'd never said he loved me.

Not that he needed to, of course. I'm not blind, after all. It was written all over his face, it showed in every touch and glance, I could taste it in his kisses.

You can always tell.

Oh.... Interesting point.

I lay for a while, gazing at nothing, considering this new development.

If you could always tell... maybe Harry could tell... maybe...

Did I love him?

I'd never really considered it. I'd just assumed that if I was able to say the words then the feelings I had were what he wanted.

Perhaps they were not.

How, exactly, was I supposed to know? I'd never seen a checklist or a definition. I wasn't particularly experienced with the whole love thing. I'd never been in love before. I hadn't even loved anyone before. My parents, for example. They were dead and I didn't give a shit. Relatives, no. Friends, no. Inanimate objects, no for god's sake. I never even had a teddy bear.

I didn't like this train of thought. It was not travelling to happy places. Bloody Harry. All his fault.

Well, I wasn't going to think about it any more. If Harry thought he could mess with my head he had another thing coming. It was just a shame he was refusing to mess with my body. But I was going to ignore the whole thing.

Was I bollocks.

*

My dreams were a blur of frustration through which Harry drifted with an expression of angelic detachment, flavoured every now and then with a hint of that look, that unreadable, indefinable something.

He couldn't have been more irritating if he'd tried.

He probably was trying. Messing with my dreams to piss me off.

Yes, I know that's irrational. Why do I have to be rational all of a sudden?

By the following morning I was one big bundle of guilt, shame and misery. I was a mess. Admittedly a perfectly groomed and dazzlingly good-looking mess, but inside my head I had spots and dandruff and hadn't washed for a week.

I really needed a shag. But the thing is, I can always get a shag. It's one of the fringe benefits of being dazzlingly good-looking. But I had absolutely no desire to go to bed with any of the numerous people that were gagging for me. What I really needed was to shag Harry. The guy I apparently didn't love. I was beginning to get seriously confused.

I had to love him. The thought of never having Harry again was... well, unthinkable.

Something had to be done.

I that evening I cornered him and started talking, very fast in case he wouldn't listen. Also in case I chickened out. I didn't want to say these things. These things were not me.

'Harry,' I said, and my voice sounded all strange and quavery, 'I've been thinking about what you said last night, very hard. Thinking very hard that is. Um. Anyway, the thing is, I realised I don't really know if I love you. I'm not quite sure what it is I have to do. But if you think I don't love you I guess you're right, because I always know how you feel about me, and I know that you love me and I'm really sorry if I don't love you back.'

I got that bit out in all one breath, and gasped for air. Now came the really awful part.

'I must be really screwed up, because you're beautiful and perfect, smart and brave and funny and you make me feel safe and worthwhile even though I could never possibly deserve you. I wish I loved you. I wish it with all my heart, because otherwise I'm going to lose you, and I couldn't bear that. I wondered if that wish might be enough. Please, Harry, I'm going to try to love you. Please...'

My voice petered out under his incredulous gaze.

'Christ,' he said after a time, 'that's the mushiest thing I ever heard.'

'Wha...?' I said.

He burst out laughing. 'I didn't have a clue if you loved me sweetie, I can never tell what you're feeling. I was just fucking with you. Or not, in this particular situation!'

He collapsed into a giggling heap. If he hadn't looked so adorable I'd have strangled him where he lay. Instead I faltered, 'Did you just call me sweetie?'

'Yes, angel, I think I did,' he choked. 'In fact, poppet, nobody as cute as you can possibly be called Draco. How does sugarplum grab you? Or pumpkin? L-love bunny...'

I lost my temper. 'Love bunny? LOVE BUNNY?!? You sadistic little twat, that's going too far!' I shoved him, hard, and he flopped onto his back. Mustering all my dark-and-deadly menace I pinned him down with my full weight and glared into his face. 'Never ever call me that again! I'm going to hurt you. Lots and lots of pain, alright?'

It would have been slightly more effective if I had considered the distracting possibilities of being crushed up against Harry's admittedly delectable body. As it was, when he arched upwards, pressed himself against me and let his breath tickle against my cheek, it unsettled me enough for him to twist like a horrible slippery eel and wriggle his arms free. I jerked back, expecting a punch in the face, but instead he flung both arms around me and shoved his head against my chest.

I squirmed, but he had me in a death grip, and besides it was rather nice, feeling his warm breath through my shirt and one of his hands unashamedly groping my arse.

He's such a slut. Or I am. Whatever.

'You freak,' I told the top of his head, 'what the hell are you doing now?'

'You love me,' he said quietly, all levity evaporated. 'I don't believe it, you actually love me. God, you went all mushy for me!'

'I love you?' I murmured, bewildered.

'Yeah,' he told me, 'you do. You love me lots.'

'Oh,' I said intelligently. 'Good. That's... good.'

I let my arms slip round him, tangled my fingers in his hideous hair. My heart was doing weird things inside me, my breath was all fluttery and my eyes getting misty, but I felt fine. Better than fine. I loved Harry Potter.

We stayed like that a long time before I finally considered the implications of his words.

'So, does this mean we can fuck now?' I asked.

He gave me that look, the unreadable one. Somehow I knew I had a long time to figure out what it meant, maybe even a lifetime. And I know what a mushy line that is. But with Harry even mush has its moments.

Especially when said moments lead directly to hot steamy sex.

Which this one did.