The Irish

Thank you for all your reviews. I have some great ideas for the upcoming chapters, and I promise that within the next two to three shall be the sex scene that has been mentioned frequently.
I would like to apologise for the delay in this update. I was quite busy over the holidays and pondering how i was going to continue what is turning into an epic.
Again thanks alot.

Chapter 13: the Conversation

The three boys stumbled out of the great Hall, the clapping and cheering of their fans and friends still echoing in their ears. It had been a wonderful night. After the revealing of the revellers at midnight, the dancing had continued for hours.

Draco had managed to smuggle in some Firewhisky to spice up the event. It turned out that Lucius had never had Firewhisky, so he was more than a little tipsy. In fact, he was falling down drunk. Draco and Harry on the other hand, knew that it
was potent, so as a result were only mildly buzzed.

The three boys stumbled out of the Great Hall, Lucius supported by his loves, his arms draped over their shoulders. They all managed to get up to the room where they had spent yesternight together. Draco and Harry dumped Lucius onto the bed, fully clothed and tucked the blankets up around his chin. Draco, with his great experience with hangovers, placed a bucket on the floor beside him. As he gazed down at his dear friend, the dulcet sounds of his snoring reached his ears, putting him in mind of a muggle lawnmower.

Draco looked back over his shoulder and observed Harry sitting in a large wingback chair before the crackling fire. He sat down somewhat uncomfortably in the other chair, uncomfortable due to the company and not the furniture. He snuck glances to his silent companion, wondering what to do.

“I know what you’re thinking. What are we going to do? I know that I love Lucius and I know that he loves you. I think he loves me and that you love him. This leaves us in a bit of a pickle. Should we force him to chose between us? He said that he would rather have neither of us than only one. What shall we do?” Harry sat slumped in his chair, staring into the flames of the fire as if they would provide him with all the answers he sought.

“I know,” Draco sighed. “I don’t want to lose him. I do love him. And I know he loves you. If we want to have him, it would appear to me that we are stuck with each other. I am willing to make peace between us for his sake. I know that we will not get along perfectly and that it will be hard to forget all the things we have done to each other, but he is most definitely worth it. What do you say?” Draco perched in his chair, attempting a look of nonchalance, knowing that he was not succeeding.

Harry continued to stare into the flames, appearing to be thinking over his once-enemy’s offer of mutual surrender. He looked over to the blond Adonis, and his beauty suddenly struck him. Harry had known that girls found him attractive, but what he thought of as his hatred had blinded him to it. He now realised that it had not been hatred. It had been anger that Draco would never look at him the way he did others. “I’m willing to forgive, though I know that we will probably never forget. I saw what you feared when. . . that thing happened. As long as you never hurt him, I won’t turn you away, I won’t shut you out. I promise.”

Draco looked down into his lap, embarrassed that Harry knew his weakness. Unspoken between the boys lay an attraction and the fluttering of trust and hope, like the wings of a dove. “Thank you, Harry. And I-I promise you, that I will never let an-anyone come between the three of us. I won’t let anyone t-tear you away from Lucius and I.” Draco stuttered, blushing.

Harry saw tears drip down the boy’s face. “You said my name. I don’t think I have ever heard you use my proper name before.” A look of wonder came over his face, and one of confusion over Draco’s. He slid out of his chair and onto his knees, facing his blond boy. His hands reached up to cup his face, his thumbs slipping in the slaty wetness on Draco’s face. Ever so softly, Harry placed his lips on the blond’s mouth, softly and rather chastely kissing him. Draco breathed in softly, slightly shocked. This gave Harry the perfect opportunity to quickly flick his tongue into his mouth, and then softly drew away, kneeling before him.

Draco stared down into his face, his mouth hanging open. He had been kissed with more passion, more lust, more skill before. But never with such love. His eyes searched the face of the boy he had once called nemesis, and found a man that he might be able to love. His arms reached down and scooped Harry into his lap, dragging his face down to kiss. Their tongues tangled and slid together wetly. The brunette’s knees framed Draco’s legs and hips, straddling his lap.

Harry’s arms wrapped around his neck and his hands found their way into his golden blond hair. His tongue thrust into his mouth, then retreated only to attack again, mimicking the activity he wanted to do later. His hands found the bow-tie around Draco’s neck and undid it to fling it to the floor.

Draco’s hands caressed Harry’s back, his finger’s sliding under the vest he wore to massage the boy’s lower back, softly soothing the tense muscles and teasing the ridge of his spine. His hands worked like magic to stroke the aches and pains of the day away. His hands continued to trail up Harry’s back even as their mouths broke away and they gasped for breath.

They stared into each other’s eyes and smiled, then started to laugh. Draco stood up and cradled the sumptuous ass of the boy who’s legs were wrapped around him, supporting him as he stumbled to the bed where Lucius lay. They fell onto it together and cuddled up, holding the long-haired Irish man captive between them until they fell asleep, grinning into the night.