To Give Everything

Draco sat beside Harry on the bed, fingers gently stroking the man’s dark hair. He looked at Harry’s wax and come spattered body and smiled. He found the sight beautiful.

Harry touched his chest before he started to pick away some of the wax, holding up a piece to look at it. "Really looked like blood." He blushed and rolled onto his side, facing Draco. He continued to pick away at the wax, watching Draco as he did it. "It was hot," he murmured.

Draco ran a hand down Harry's back, stopping to cup his arse, squeezing. The feeling he had was this is mine.

Harry winced as he started to pull some of the wax off that was stuck in the hair on his lower belly, making him stop. "Ow."

Draco felt the stirrings of arousal again as he fondled the man’s arse. "Leave it," he said, fingers trailing down the crevice still slick with his come.

Harry let his hand fall away as his eyes closed, sighing softly as Draco gently pushed, rolling him onto his stomach. Harry turned his head so that his cheek was resting against the sheets. At the moment he was comfortable enough to fall asleep like this.

The blond settled himself so that he was straddling Harry's thighs. "So beautiful," he whispered as he slid a finger between the man’s cheeks.

Other than making a soft sound, Harry didn't move or resist, his eyes still shut.

Draco gently teased that still loose and sticky opening.

"Tired," Harry mumbled, feeling his entrance clench slightly.

"Shh, yes, just relax," Draco whispered, sliding two fingers into Harry.

Harry wasn't sure how he was supposed to relax with fingers up his arse, but he tried to anyway.

Draco moved up, removing his fingers and sliding his re-awakened cock slowly into Harry, the feeling warm and soft. He sighed.

Harry blinked open his eyes when he felt that, sure he couldn't just relax like this. "Draco."

Draco leaned forward, draping himself over Harry's back so he could feel their bodies pressed together, face pressing alongside Harry's head. "Harry," he whispered.

Harry's eyes closed again, feeling at peace like this. It was odd, but it felt just right.

Draco didn't move, didn't thrust, just held himself there, atop of and inside Harry. It felt ... good. Good in a way he couldn't describe. He just breathed in the pleasure of it, the comfort of skin to skin, the smell of Harry and the tickle of the man’s thick hair against Draco's cheek.

Harry was not sure when it happened, but soon he’d fallen asleep, exactly as he was. He’d never felt safer in his life.

Draco didn't come, didn't feel he needed to right then. He just let the pleasure hum through him. It was probably late and they had classes the next day, but he didn't want to move. He must have dozed off because he woke when he felt Harry squirm a bit under his weight. His arousal had faded and he was tired now. "Harry," he whispered, "we need to go back to our dorms."

Harry mumbled something incoherent and then went back to snoring, obviously out of it.

Draco snorted, lying down beside Harry and conjuring a blanket. He should've been worried about getting detention, or worse, being discovered. He should've woken Harry. Instead, he lay there watching the other man sleep until he drifted off, too.

***

Harry woke up with a jerk the next morning, blinking and trying to sit up, but he realised he was being held down by Draco's arm around his waist. He wasn't sure of the time, but he knew they had class.

"Draco, Draco," Harry said, nudging his shoulder. "We have to get up."

Draco groaned, blinking bleary grey eyes. "Where ... oh."

"Classes might have started already!" Harry exclaimed.

"Fuck!" Draco growled, scrambling from the bed and reaching for his clothes. Then he saw the state they were in. "Wax and ... " he pointed to Harry.

Harry looked down, blushing as he started to try and get the stuff off. "Where's my wand?" he asked, looking around for the pile of clothes.

Draco Summoned his own, cleaning himself and pulling on clothes quickly.

Harry also Summoned his and cast a Cleaning Charm on himself before he got dressed as quickly as he could. "What time is it?" he asked Draco.

Draco pulled a pocket watch out and groaned. "We are late for Transfiguration."

"Fuck," Harry cursed, pulling his cloak on. "I don't have my books or anything."

"Neither do I," Draco growled.

"What do we do?" Harry asked, knowing that either way, McGonagall would be angry. "I could always borrow some parchment and a quill from Hermione."

"You go, do that. No one will care if you look rumpled," Draco insisted.

"Gee, thanks," Harry said and turned to leave, but stopped, looking back. "Kiss goodbye?"

Draco frowned, but nodded.

Harry hurried over and gave him a quick kiss, smiling at him before he rushed out, hoping Draco didn't leave any visible marks. His skin already felt sensitive.

Draco had to conjure a mirror and try to get himself in some kind of presentable state. People would notice if his hair was sticking up. It wasn't his best job, but he hurried to class hoping it wouldn’t matter.

Harry rushed into the classroom and quickly made an excuse about how he slept in late and that he was very sorry. He took his seat next to Hermione and asked her for a piece of parchment.

McGonagall took ten points from Gryffindor. Hermione frowned at him but handed him the parchment and Ron was giving him the look that said he was going to ask where he had been.

Harry shook his head and grabbed one of Hermione's quills, dipping in the inkwell before he started to write down the notes.

Ron leaned in. "Where the bloody hell have you been?" he whispered.

"Fell asleep in the tower again," Harry murmured, not looking at him as he spoke.

Ron snorted. "I looked."

"I was under my cloak," Harry replied easily, trying not to look surprised.

Ron grumbled and might have pushed it, but at that moment the door opened and Draco strolled into the classroom, looking for all the world as if he didn’t care that he had missed half the class.

"Mr Malfoy," McGonagall said indignantly. "Where have you been?"

"Oh, the Potions project I am working on needed extra time," Draco answered smoothly, and took his seat next to Blaise.

McGonagall pursed her lips. "Twenty points from Slytherin, Mr Malfoy," she said. "And in the future, you should be more careful with your time."

Draco nodded, secretly relieved that it hadn't been worse. He tried not to look at Potter and wondered if she had taken the same amount of points from her Golden Boy.

Harry didn't look up or look back when Draco walked inside, still calmly writing down the notes McGonagall had written on the board. That was his plan, to not pay attention to Draco at all.

Draco didn't have his books either but got parchment and quill from Blaise, who kept giving him the 'I know you are lying' look. They made it though the rest of class without incident and then Draco headed for the dungeons, to get the rest of his books.

***

It had been a close call and Draco was worried. Blaise continued giving him odd looks for the rest of the day. Then there was the fact that Draco had fallen behind in his coursework. He had been spending too much time with Potter. He knew it. He wanted him all the time, and that in itself was disturbing. When had this gone from a fun game of sex and power to something he craved? Having so much power over The Boy Who Lived, his old rival, had been exhilarating. Yet, along the way, Potter had become Harry. Harry who writhed under him and begged him and told Draco he needed him. The sex was amazing but … but it was a lot more than that. Draco couldn’t afford for it to be more than that.

To make matters worse, Draco was staring off into the fire of the Slytherin common room instead of doing his homework, when Blaise sat down. It was only then that he realised it was late and they were the only ones left in the room. Draco sighed and began closing his books, preparing to go to bed.

“Potter was late, too, today,” Blaise began.

Draco feigned disinterest. “So?”

“Transfiguration this morning, he came running in not long before you did,” Blaise continued.

“I don’t care what Potter does or does not do,” Draco drawled.

“Since when?” Blaise challenged.

“Since he killed snake-face,” Draco insisted.

“Both of you have been acting differently since you got back. You both pretend not to notice each other. But you don’t actually ignore each other. It’s like you watch with something other than your eyes, always aware of the other,” Blaise explained.

“Watch without my eyes? What are you on about, Blaise?” Draco retorted but his heart sped up with fear.

“And then there is the way you disappear so much. And so does Potter.”

“I like to be alone,” Draco said. Especially since Crabbe and Goyle are respectively dead and in Azkaban, he thought, and knew that Blaise got that.

Blaise sighed. “You don’t have to be. You still have friends.”

“Yes, I have to be.” Draco insisted, picking up his books and leaving the room.

He closed the curtains of his canopy, staring up into the dark for a long time. He needed to be alone. He couldn't have someone else depending on him, expecting things from him. This thing with Harry… with Potter, it was supposed to be a game, not … not whatever it was becoming now. The things he felt when he was with Potter scared him. Made him feel open in a way he couldn’t let happen. When school was over, Potter would go on and then where would Draco be? He had to stop this now before … before it was too late.

***

After that incident, Harry went on with his school day as if it hadn't happened. He separated from Hermione and Ron more often, hoping to be pulled aside by Draco, but it didn’t happen. He guessed Draco was being more careful. He didn't go to The Room that night because Draco didn't tell him to, so he ended up sleeping in the dorms. The next day was the same thing. Draco was definitely ignoring him. Harry didn't like it and he wondered what he had done to deserve it.

By the third day, Harry was close to losing it. Plus Draco hadn't put the plug back inside him so he didn't even have that. He decided to approach Draco about it, tired of waiting.

He got his Invisibility Cloak and pulled out the map to locate the other man. When Draco went alone to the Quidditch pitch, Harry followed him. He pulled off the cloak and stepped closer. "Draco, you didn't tell me when we'd meet up again," he started.

Draco whipped about, wand drawn before he even realised who it was. "Fuck," he complained.

"Didn’t mean to surprise you," Harry said, smiling a little as he folded the cloak.

It was after dinner, the sun setting and the air was crisp. Draco huffed. "That happens when you sneak up on people."

"Yeah, well, I had to wait until you were alone," Harry said, shrugging and stepping closer. "So when are we meeting up again? The past few days have been torture."

Draco scowled. "Torture is what I was supposed to be doing to you in The Room," he sneered.

"And you haven't been?" Harry asked, a little confused in Draco's change in demeanour.

"Well, it's over," Draco said, turning away. His stomach rolled, and he swallowed down the feeling.

"What do you mean it's over?" Harry asked, fear spiking inside him. "Did I do something wrong?"

"Quill, Potter! I've had enough."

"I thought only I could say that," Harry murmured, his face falling. Was Draco really serious about this? "Just tell me what I did wrong, and I'll fix it, I promise."

"Nothing to fix," Draco said, not turning around, unable to look at Potter while he did this. "I'm just bored with it now."

"You're ... bored?" Harry asked quietly. No, Draco had to be playing, Harry saw the way Draco acted, the way he looked at him, touched him. Harry shook his head and stepped closer, reaching a hand to touch Draco’s arm. "Stop joking. Seriously now, I've missed you."

Draco shrugged off the hand. "No more games, Potter. I have more important things to do."

"Like what?" Harry asked, moving around so that he could see Draco's face. "I thought this was important to you!"

"Fucking the Boy Who Lived, finally getting you under me? Yeah, it was fun. But I've had you. It's done," Draco snarled, shoving Potter back from him.

Harry stumbled back, his eyes widening as the words sunk in. "That ... that's not why you were doing it," he insisted, still in denial. He was just waiting for Malfoy to say he was kidding and that it was all a joke.

"Go back to your Mudblood and the Weasel and all those people who adore you," Draco snapped and strode away, as quickly as he could make his legs move without running.

Harry watched Draco walk away, thinking about running after him, but he stopped himself. Draco was being serious and ... and Harry felt so stupid. He had let the man see him at his most vulnerable times and even let him ... use him until he got bored, apparently. He was an idiot. He ignored the sting of tears and, pulling the cloak back on, staggered back into the castle.

Draco went directly to The Room, where he fell to the floor and began to pound his fists on the flagstones so hard that his hands bruised and bled, screaming at the top of his lungs. He didn't know it would hurt this much, that the sound in Harry’s ... Potter's voice would make it feel like he had been stabbed. Draco lay on the floor writhing as if under Cruciatus. He didn't know how long he lay there, panting and curled up in pain. Eventually, he pulled himself together, cleaned himself up and returned to the Slytherin dorm. He knew from years of practise that if he shoved his feelings down deep enough, they would go away.

Harry went back up to the Gryffindor tower that night, sneaking past Hermione and Ron and walked up to the dormitories. He curled up in his bed, the cloak still wrapped around him. It was hard to believe that he had started to think of having some kind of real relationship with Draco, only to be so roughly pushed away. He wasn't sure what to feel, so many emotions going through him that he couldn’t keep track of them.

Eventually Harry came out of hiding, pulling the cloak off and putting it away before undressing and getting ready for bed. His skin wasn't as sensitive as it was before, and there were only a few visible marks. He needed it ... needed Draco, and now he had nothing. He was back to where he had started. Only he felt worse. He curled up in his bed and pulled his pillow close, burying his face in it before he started to cry, very softly, because he didn't want anyone to hear him. He'd never trust anyone like that again.

***

Harry didn't get much sleep that night. It felt like he had just closed his eyes and finally drifted off when Ron was waking him. He dressed quietly and went down to breakfast, looking a lot like he did at the beginning of the year. His face was pale and there were dark circles under his eyes, almost like bruises. He had almost hoped it was all a really bad dream, but when Draco ignored him again that day, Harry knew it had really happened. He didn't confront the blond again, not wanting to hear those harsh words repeated. The next few days were exactly the same, Harry going to bed crying and waking up tired. He wasn't sure how much longer he could take this.

Harry skipped dinner again, lying in his bed in the dorm instead. He heard footsteps and felt someone standing beside the bed.

"Harry," Ron said.

"Yes," Harry answered, his back to Ron.

Harry felt the mattress dip as Ron sat down on the edge of the bed. "I'm worried about you, mate," Ron admitted.

Harry didn't turn over to face him. "I'm just tired."

"We've been through a lot, Harry," Ron said softly. "I've been beside you since we were eleven. I can tell when things aren't right."

Harry didn't answer, not sure of what to tell him. He couldn't actually tell anyone, not even Ron, what had happened.

Ron sighed. "I always thought, well, that things would be good now," he said softly. "It's hard though, with Fred gone and ... and so many others. And I ... understand, about you and Ginny. I just worry that you aren't talking to any of us anymore."

"I don't know what to say," Harry whispered, closing his eyes.

"I'm not good with this stuff. You know that," Ron said. "But if you want to talk to me, or to Hermione, you know we'll listen."

"I know, Ron," Harry sighed, knowing that he probably had the best friends ever. "I just need time."

"Okay, Harry," Ron said, patting his shoulder and then he left.