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“Seriously, come on, Draco!” Harry complained. He made a face at the fussy blue robes patterned with white stars that Draco was wearing around the house. “We’re about to have our first ever movie night, and you’re dressed like that?”
Draco raised one eyebrow. “Yes.”
“How can that be comfortable?”
“It is,” Draco retorted, jaw stubborn.
Harry made a face of disbelief. Sure, the robes came to Draco’s knees instead of to the floor, with fussy lacing instead of fussy buttons, unpressed trousers underneath instead of pressed trousers. It wasn’t right that Draco wore those robes, though. It made Harry feel underdressed, but this was Harry’s house first and foremost, soo...
“No, this won’t do. I’m going to find you something comfortable to wear, and then we’re going to watch our first movie ever.”
“And if I disagree? I’m...not quite sure I want to wear your attire.”
“For a few hours, Malfoy.” Harry rolled his eyes.
Draco smirked. “How about..you make chocolate cake for dessert?”
Harry’s brows drew together. “But...But I was going to make treacle tart.”
Draco simply raised an eyebrow.
Harry crossed his arms. “If you like wearing my clothes, then you’ll buy me that broom with the gold plating.”
“Deal.”
The two immediately shook hands. Harry smirked. Draco smirked back.
“You’ll see,” Harry said, already tasting victory. He went to his bedroom and searched for his cleanest smelling pair of joggers and a long sleeve sweater.
(Draco rarely wore anything short sleeve, not even in the house, even though they had already hashed out that Harry would live if he saw Draco’s Dark Mark.)
“Here we are, your majesty,” Harry said facetiously as he presented the clothes to Draco.
Draco’s lip curled. “Much left to be desired,” he drawled. “I expect all preparations to be done by the time I come down.”
“Sure, whatever.” Harry smirked and headed back down to the living room that housed their new telly.
Telly working, check, DVD in, check. Blankets, check. Popcorn, check. Harry plopped himself down on the sofa and yelled out, “Hurry up! I’m starting now!”
“Patience is a virtue,” Draco retorted from behind him.
Harry rolled his eyes and pressed play instead. He glanced up as Draco came round. The sweater had been big on Harry, so it fitted Draco well enough.
Except...ffffffffucck.
The joggers...were too short. Draco wasn’t wearing socks. Harry could see Draco’s ankles. How the fuck could ankles look so pretty?
Harry could handle seeing sleepy-Draco and fussy-Draco and pratty-Draco. But this. What sane man could handle this?
Draco sat down on the other end of the sofa, his long legs stretched out. How had Harry not noticed how long Draco’s legs were under those fussy robes?
“I’m quite sure Muggles’ eyes aren’t this big,” Draco said, summoning the bowl of popcorn right out of Harry’s hands.
“Hey! Learn to share.”
“Must we?”
“What are you, a brat?”
Draco raised an eyebrow. “Better than a git,” he drawled, but he let the bowl of popcorn float between them.
“Anyway, I thought you were smart, because then you’ll know this movie is animated. You know, drawing?”
Unexpectedly, Draco’s eyes sparked with interest. “You mean this two-hour long film is entirely done by artistry?”
“They use computers, but yeah, I suppose…”
Draco gave him an unimpressed look. “You’re a useless source of muggle knowledge. Don’t worry, I’ll determine the wizarding equivalent, and create a drawn movie of you. Remember those loving drawings I sent you back in Hogwarts?”
Harry threw a piece of popcorn at Draco, who, the bastard, caught it in his mouth with a smirk.
“I’m watching,” Draco said snottily. He draped an arm over the back of the sofa, crossed his legs at the ankle, and focused on the telly.
Harry tried to focus on the telly as well. The movie was really good and the songs were lively.
But this was the first time Harry had ever seen Draco’s ankles. He could hardly believe how delicate they looked—that they were hiding under Draco’s boots the entire time.
Draco was egging on the heroine. “Come on! It’s clearly magic! Yesssss.” He glanced at Harry as his hand reached out for some popcorn. “...Potter, the telly is that way.”
Harry nearly jumped out of his skin. “What, I know that!”
Draco smirked, eyes dragging down Harry’s body.
Harry’s cheeks reddened, and he quickly pulled the throw blanket over his legs. “You’re a prat,” he grumbled. He grabbed some popcorn before Draco did and stuffed it in his mouth and stubbornly stared at the movie. Why was Harry stressing over Draco’s stupid ankles when there was a topless demigod on screen?
“Mmm.” Draco’s tone seemed to promise Harry a lot of trouble in the future...
Thankfully, Harry felt Draco’s gaze lift off. So Harry returned to watching the movie, eating the popcorn, and glancing at Draco’s feet, and trying not to catalogue all the times that Draco must have seen Harry’s own knobbly ankles.
*
Draco, being magnanimous, gave Harry a break while Draco focused on the muggle film. He was already imagining a full colour sequence of an artist’s impression (i.e., Draco’s impression) of that incident when Harry caught the snitch with his mouth, a sequence fixated very much on those lips. Draco couldn’t wait to render it in loving, immortalised detail and tease Harry with it.
The film ended, and with that, Draco’s benevolence. He turned to Harry.
“A very good film. I assume you didn’t pick it,” he said, shifting his legs. He inclined his head at the blanket covering Harry’s lap. “I’m sure you’re aware we’re both men, I won’t judge you for your….reactions.”
“The fuck, Draco,” Harry threw the blanket at Draco’s face. Draco easily knocked it aside, and turned, moving his legs onto the sofa. He nudged one foot at Harry’s thigh, and revelled in the widening of Harry’s eyes, gaze snapping to Draco’s feet.
If Draco had known Harry Potter would react this way, he would have done it much earlier. For a while there, Draco thought Harry hadn’t been attracted to him.
(Yes, they had been housemates for over a year now, and Harry cooked for him, and gave him silly gifts, and had even tucked him into bed once, but how could Draco be sure it was attraction and not, oh, Gryffindorishness?)
But clearly, Harry’s buttons were just a little different from everyone else’s.
“Potter, my eyes are up here.”
Harry’s eyes snapped up, a blush detectable on his brown skin. “What if I didn’t want to look at your stupid face? I bet those joggers are comfortable, aren’t they?”
Draco stretched his legs out, plopping his feet right on Harry’s lap. Harry’s eyes widened further, his gaze darting down.
“Indeed, I will be the better man and concede that these...trousers, if we must call them, have their uses.” Draco tilted his head back. “I never knew you had such a kink for me in your clothing.”
“Wha—” Harry’s mouth dropped. “No, no way,” he blustered and flustered. Draco wanted to squish Harry’s cheeks for how adorable he was being.
“It must be a shock to see someone more handsome than you pulling off your clothing.”
Harry froze, eyes wide. Then, his eyes narrowed, lips tugging into a smirk. “So you’re calling me handsome,” he said.
“You’re pretty,” Draco said.
“No way.”
“Yes way.”
“No way!”
“Yes way, dear Harry.”
“Nooooo.”
“Why ever not?” Draco’s chest bubbled with how much he enjoyed this. “Your deep green sparkling eyes, your luscious curls, your cute cheeks, and your smile that could start a war and end a dozen more.”
Harry held his hands over his face. “No, stop that!”
“I’ll like to inform you that your cheeks are as adorable as Teddy’s. Fear not, I’ve already bought you that Lightning Gold 7000. I was going to give it to you for your birthday, but you’ll get it early, lucky you.”
“What?” Harry looked up, lips pouting. “You already had it?? Bloody hell, Draco! I should have known!”
Draco gave an exaggerated sigh. “But now I’ll have to find another birthday present to top it. Oh woe is I.”
Harry grinned, his eyes sparkling. “Oh yeah? It better be fantastic.”
“It would blow your mind,” Draco drawled. “Potter, come here.”
Harry frowned, shuffling closer to him, his warm hands settling on Draco’s legs. “Yeah, what?”
“Closer.”
“This better not be a trick, Malfoy,” Harry said, shifting closer again. “Also, I’m making treacle tart because I already have the ingredients.”
Draco leaned forward, pressing one pale finger against Harry’s lips. “I’m sure your lips will taste just as sweet.”
Harry’s lips parted. Draco swiped his thumb across the bottom lip, soft and pillowy. Harry’s tongue darted out, wet and firm.
“Are we friends, Harry?” Draco said softly, his gaze locked onto Harry’s.
“...Yes?” Harry breathed.
Draco pressed his hand down Harry’s throat, catching at the collar of Harry’s T-shirt. “Do you like me, Harry?”
“...You just said we were friends!”
Draco gave a short tug on Harry’s shirt, just enough to make Harry’s eyes widen. “Should I kiss you?”
“Wait, what, kiss? But you, but I—erm, well.”
“Where’s your courage, Gryffin-boy?”
Harry’s eyes flashed with indignation. “You’re a bastard, Malfoy!”
“My parents had been married for—” Draco’s words were swallowed up as Harry’s mouth landed on his. Which, was truly victory to Draco. He tugged Harry closer and repositioned his head. A bite on Harry’s bottom lip had his mouth opening up for Draco to take.
Draco’s tongue explored Harry’s mouth, swallowed Harry’s moans. Fucking delicious.
“Ugh—Draco,” Harry gasped, pulling away. His skin was flush, eyes blown wide. Lips bitten red and so, so enticing. He licked his lips. Draco wanted to lick them for him.
“What do you want now, Harry?” Draco said, rolling the rr’s on Harry.
Harry’s eyes darted down. He pressed a hand against Draco’s bulge. Through the ridiculously thin cloth, Draco could feel Harry’s heat. “Can I?”
“You may,” Draco said. He sprawled back on the sofa, eyes half-lidded. “Go on.”
*
THIS. IS. HAPPENING! screamed a tiny part of Harry’s brain. SEE I TOLD YOU HE LIKED YOU AND YOU LIKED HIM!
The bigger part of Harry’s brain was much more concerned with dicks. Draco being one of them. It was not fair how good Draco looked sprawling on Harry’s sofa.
“Are you waiting for something?” Draco said.
Harry rolled his eyes. “Patience is a virtue,” he quoted. He crawled over Draco’s legs, positioning himself in prime cock-sucking position. He wet his lips, and tugged down the joggers off Draco’s unfairly attractive hips.
Harry’s mouth flooded with saliva. Draco’s cock sprung up, thick and hard and Harry could already imagine how much it would stretch him, how deep it would reach…
Harry wrapped his hand around Draco’s cock. He licked the tip. Mouthed it, kissed it. Licked it again, kissing down the side of Draco’s dick, other hand fondling Draco’s balls.
“...What the fuck, Potter?” Draco grumbled. His fingers slipped into Harry’s curls and pulled lightly. Shivers of pleasure ran down Harry’s scalp.
Harry tilted his head up and smiled innocently. “What? Your cock is so cute. I could even give it a little pinch—”
Draco pulled harder. “Don’t you dare.”
Harry smirked. “Then shouldn’t you be nicer to me?”
Draco gave him a look of disgruntlement, and Harry couldn’t help but laugh.
Harry observed Draco’s cock again, pumping it slowly. Draco’s cock swelled further, a tiny bit of precome oozing out. Harry licked his lips and went down. Hot hardness pressed against his tongue, filled his senses. He sucked Draco’s cock, taking him deeper and deeper.
Draco moaned, his fingers tangling in Harry’s hair. “Fuck. That’s good. You’re so good, Harry.” His fingers teased Harry’s hair, sensations pouring across his skin.
Harry moaned, and began to bob his head, going faster, sucking harder. He went deeper and deeper, until he swallowed down Draco’s entire cock.
“Fuck!” Draco’s hips trembled. “You love my dick, don’t you Harry?” His voice was husky and dark and it went straight to Harry’s cock.
Harry swallowed in response, squeezing and toying with Draco’s balls.
“Touch yourself, Harry,” Draco ordered. “Make yourself feel good.”
A moan reverberated in Harry’s chest as he stuck his hand under his joggers and pulled out his own cock. Pleasure spiked as he tugged off in one hand.
“Yes, yes,” Draco mumbled, hips making little fucking motions into Harry’s mouth. “Fuck—”
Harry breathed deeply and went all the way down and swallowed. Draco groaned, his cock pulsing hot in Harry’s mouth, come sliding down Harry’s throat. Harry swallowed again, sucked and sucked until he had to breathe. He pulled off Draco’s dick with a wet gasp and pumped his own cock.
“That’s it, Harry, come, come for me,” Draco’s fingers traced Harry’s face.
Harry came, white stars bursting across his brain, white come splattering over Draco’s joggers. He slumped down right on Draco’s hip, by Draco’s softening cock, and pumped his cock through the last of the orgasm. It took him a bit to catch his breath.
Draco’s magic washed over them in a rather good cleaning charm. “Well, I must say,” Draco drawled, voice curling into Harry’s ears. “Not bad, though I’ll have to compare it with your arse performance later.”
Harry propped himself up in offense. “Malfoy!”
Draco’s smirk was mischievous, and before Harry knew it, Draco had somehow manoeuvred Harry onto his back. Harry felt betrayed by how his body melted and reacted to Draco’s lips. It was fucking pavlovian, except this was like, what, the second time only??
“But your mouth though,” Draco said, kissing and nipping his lips. “Delicious. Delectable. For you, I’ll wear these muggle trousers.”
Harry opened his mouth. “Ah. Maybe you shouldn’t.”
“Oh? Why not?”
Harry pulled a face. “You know why!”
“Tell me,” Draco’s lips teased so close to Harry’s, but he didn’t kiss him, the utter prat.
Harry pouted. “Because I’ll be distracted.”
Draco smirked, looking way too pleased with himself.
Harry narrowed his eyes. “What if...I wore your robes instead?...With nothing underneath.”
Draco froze.
Harry put a finger in his own mouth, sucking lightly on it. “No? Bad idea? How long have you wanted me?”
“You—I—years—what?”
Harry grinned. “I’m un-fucking-resistable.” He shimmied out from under Draco’s arms and stood up. “Now, I should go make treacle tart. Coming?”
“Hm.” Draco slowly sat back...showing off his long legs and pretty ankles and soft cock. “We’ll definitely be coming later.”
Harry’s traitorous eyes looked. “Maybe...you could help me. The faster we make the treacle tart…”
“The faster we can have dessert.” Draco stood up and led the way to the kitchen.
Meanwhile, Harry followed behind, eyes sliding down to those ankles and rueing the few-hours-ago-Harry who had the bright idea of putting Draco in joggers.
He was definitely going to pay pleasurably for it later.
— the end! —