Kiss The Blood Off My Hands

A/N: Yes, this chapter is jumping straight into the relationship forming between Draco and Harry. It’s rather fast growing and awkward from the beginning, but a fresh breath from my usual line of work, where we ease into the relationship. In this fic, both Harry and Draco are in their twenties, though they still have some of their teenage characteristics and tendencies.

Chapter Two

Sexual Tension

Harry hadn’t expected it to happen, but somehow, it had. Draco had ended up sleeping with him. Not “sleeping with him” as in “sleeping with him”, but “sleeping with him” as in the literal sense, “sleeping with him”. As in sleeping. And nothing more.

Of course, somehow in the midst of the night, Harry had ended up shirtless, and Draco had shed his boxers and…Harry was rather embarrassed to wake up that morning with Draco’s morning erection pressing against his hip. Thank God for his small mercies, though; Draco had still been asleep.

Harry carefully pried himself away from Draco’s clutching arms, where they were spooned awkwardly together, limbs hopelessly tangled. He stared down at Draco for a while, mulling over the previous day’s occurrences. The blow hit him harder than he had expected. He had had a full night’s rest, been kissed senseless by one of the world’s most gorgeous people, and yet…that didn’t change the fact that Harry had killed somebody.

Harry would forever be known as a murderer. Of course, there was that one tiny fact that Harry already was a murderer, but that had been in self-defense. It had been prophesized about; it was bound to happen, one way or another. And what was Voldemort’s one life compared to the hundreds that he had already stolen away?

No, Harry had killed an innocent, and a muggle, at that. He was surely going to Azkaban. With a groan, he buried his face in the soft pillow, clutching his stomach, where a large iron ball of guilt and shame and multiple other pent up and indescribable emotions was forming and roiling about.

Draco began to stir moments later, clenching his eyes shut tightly against the morning light streaming in through the window and tossing his arm over Harry’s shoulder awkwardly. “Mornin’,” he rasped out, trailing his fingers down Harry’s chest. Harry’s brow furrowed and he pulled away quickly.

“Erm…good morning,” he said, clearing his throat. Draco smiled softly and pulled Harry closer, either not noticing Harry’s discomfort or disregarding it completely. Harry found himself in a rather inept position, half of his body wedged uncomfortably against the cold wall and the other half smothered by Draco’s rather hot…er, warm body.

Somehow, Draco’s lips found their way to Harry’s neck, and his tongue unexpectedly slithered out of his mouth to curl around Harry’s left earlobe sexily, flicking and teasing. Draco’s teeth closed around Harry’s ear in a quick nip before he pulled away from his ear and made his way back down Harry’s neck to his collarbone, his hot tongue sliding over the bone and his lips closing around a rather sensitive patch of skin and sucking hard. Harry gasped and arched into the touch, but against his bodily wants, he pushed Draco away.

Draco stared down at Harry questioningly, and Harry shook his head, panting. “We…we can’t do this.”

Draco’s blinked in confusion. “Why not?”

Harry took a deep breath and pulled away. “It’s just…it’s wrong! We just can’t.”

“We’re both adults,” Draco said, not seeming to grasp what Harry was desperately trying to portray.

Harry sighed and shook his head once more. “Look, it’s not you,” he said, and Draco’s face fell shortly before he caught himself and schooled his facial features to normal. “No, it’s not like that! It’s just that…I’ve got a lot on my plate already without having to deal with you right now, okay?”

Draco looked completely crestfallen. Harry jabbed his fingers into his eye and sighed once more, rubbing back and forth and hoping that maybe Draco would disappear when he opened his eyes again. He had no such luck. “Look, Draco. I’ve killed a man! A muggle! I can’t just let that go!”

Draco thrust his hand into his hair and grunted in acknowledgement. A pregnant moment of awkward silence passed, but it was broken by Draco’s sleepily grumbled, “Well, I guess you are a morning person.”

Harry smiled. “No, I’m not, trust me.”

Draco grinned half-heartedly and stood, pulling on his silver silk boxers with quick, shy modesty. “I’m, uh…going down for breakfast. See you there?”

Harry took a moment to look over at the clock on his bedside table. The digital green numbers read nine o’clock AM. He sighed, raking his fingers through his hair, but nodded in agreement. Draco left the room with a smile on his face.

After the door clicked shut after Draco’s leave, Harry shoved his glasses on his face and groaned, collapsing on his bed, hanging his head in his hands and leaning his elbows on his knees.

XXX

Hermione greeted Draco curtly, not bothering to look up from her daily copy of the Prophet. Draco plopped across from her and snatched a triangle of toast from her plate, stuffing it quickly into his mouth before he could be reprimanded for it. He smiled at Hermione’s arched brow, and then made for the second triangle, barely managing to snatch it before she grasped his wrist and clenched hard, making him drop the toast with a glare.

Harry entered the room a few minutes later, looking freshly showered and clean, though he was still wearing the clothes he had worn the night before. He greeted Hermione half-heartedly as he sat heavily beside her, keeping his gaze averted from Draco’s. Mrs. Weasley bustled up beside him and thrust a heavily laden plate in front of him, along with a thick mug of coffee.

Harry murmured his thanks and lifted the mug to his lips, drinking deeply. His eyes slipped shut in enjoyment as he swallowed, a small drop trickling out of the corner of his mouth and down his chin to drip onto the table with a soft splatter. The mug was empty when Harry put it down again. He then greedily reached for a triangle of toast, only to have it snatched from his plate unexpectedly. He stared at the place where it had been confusedly for a few seconds, Draco’s chuckle barely reaching his ears.

When he looked up, Draco was innocently drinking from his own mug of coffee, though a smile played teasingly on his lips. Harry flushed and he looked longingly at the toast on Hermione’s plate. She seemed quite submersed in her paper; perhaps…

Harry’s fingers twitched as they slowly made their way towards her plate, and he quickly grabbed the toast and popped it into his mouth. When Hermione glared up at him, Harry grinned widely, toast crumbs sticking to his lips, and pointed at Draco accusingly. Draco shook his head, his eyes shining with surprise and his mouth forming a wide ‘O’. Hermione made a weird noise in the back of her throat before she haughtily returned to her paper.

Harry and Draco shared a conspiracingly jovial look, before they each returned to their own breakfasts.

XXX

There wasn’t much to do, but Harry was thankful that he had a roof over his head, anyway. Of course, this was by no means implying that Harry was poor. That was not the case, surely. He still had plenty of money left over from his vault, and had even gotten quite a large sum of money from the Ministry after defeating Voldemort. But he liked things small and simple, and though he had enough money to keep him well housed, clothed, and portly for life, Harry preferred to live in a small cottage, far away from nearly any civilization.

But the cottage wasn’t home; had never felt like home. He was home now, here at Number Twelve Grimmauld place, and he was, though not happy, nearly so. He could have been happy. He could have been happy anywhere his heart desired. But he had killed a man. And even so, if that had not happened, he had cold-heartedly slayed a dark lord. That accounted for his bitterness. His young life had been stolen away by that monster, and though everyone delighted in the man’s death, Harry had gone into a brutal state of depression.

Of course, the fact that he had killed Voldemort, though influencing Harry’s depression quite a bit, did not fuel it nearly as much as the deaths of his friends had. He sighed sadly as he thought of Remus, Sirius and Ron. He could feel the tears welling up in his eyes even as he did so.

He missed the days back at Hogwarts. He missed the fact that he hadn’t graduated. Of course, he had been offered the job of Auror, as he had wanted, but that didn’t change the fact that he was a killer, and he had declined the offer. He was a killer even more so, now that he had also killed a muggle. Not to mention all of the other men he had killed during the war, though he liked to think of them as casualties of war, and usually didn’t dwell on their deaths the way he did on Voldemort’s.

Harry took a long drag of his cigarette -- his last cigarette, as a matter of fact -- and held his breath. The smoke collected in his lungs, causing them to burn, and he reveled in the slight pain.

Just then, hot breath on the back of his neck startled him, nearly causing him to fall down the stairs he was sitting on, and breathe out the smoke in a cloud, coughing and sputtering.

“Malfoy!” he cried out, glaring at Draco as he sat down next to him.

“Hello, Potter,” Draco greeted, smirking madly.

“What’s your problem?”

“Smoking is a wretched habit,” Draco said merrily, ignoring Harry’s question.

Harry took another drag of his cigarette just to spite him. Draco’s eyes narrowed. Harry grinned wickedly, blowing the smoke in Draco’s face, causing Draco to cough and choke this time. Harry laughed.

“Oh, excuse me,” Draco said, his voice scathing. “Did I say smoking’s a wretched habit? I meant you’re a wretched git. And I do believe that you need to get laid.”

Harry blinked in surprise. “E…excuse me?”

Draco grinned, waving the smoke out of his face. “You heard me, Potter,”

“Yes, I heard you. But what did you mean by that?” Harry asked, his voice cross. Draco just smirked mysteriously. He brushed off the legs of his trousers and stood, not saying anything. Harry stared at him in silence, nearly mesmerized for a few seconds. Then, shaking himself, he asked again. “What the bloody hell did you mean by that?”

“Well, you know what it means when you blow smoke in someone’s face,” Draco said, eyebrows raising suggestively.

Harry pulled a face and stood, heading for the direction of his bedroom. “I think that it’s you that needs to get laid, Malfoy,” Harry bit back, entering his room and shutting the door behind him.

Malfoy said nothing. Harry had supposed that he had gone downstairs, and was surprised when Draco came into his room unannounced and uninvited, to plop down on the bed across from his.

Harry really needed to lock his door, he decided. And looking down at the bed he was laying on, he also decided that later on, he would have to transfigure Ron’s old bed and his together, to form a bigger bed. He was so big that he nearly fell off of this one.

“What do you want, Malfoy?” Harry asked, glaring over the book he had been reading. It was odd, the way he quickly settled into the home that he had abandoned. Harry pushed that thought to the back of his mind to think about later. Preferably when no one was around.

“You know, Potter,” Draco said, twirling a quill he had snatched off of the otherwise bare bedside table. “I think you’re right. I do need to get laid.”

Harry wrinkled up his nose and closed his book. “You’re kidding, right?”

Draco looked indignant. “I would never do such a thing,” he declared with a glare.

“What, you would never kid?” Harry asked.

Draco rolled his eyes. “I would never kid about something such as this, no,” he stated, after rolling the thought over in his head for a few minutes.

Harry snorted. “Well, good luck with your problem, then,” he stated, opening his book again. Under his breath, he muttered to himself, “I’m sure there are many prostitutes who would love to help you out,”

He could feel eyes boring holes through his head, and looked up into fiery eyes. “I heard that,” Draco growled.

Harry raised an eyebrow. “I’m sorry. I meant to say it much quieter.”

Draco’s right eye twitched, and Harry burst out laughing.

“I rather thought you might like to help me out, Potter,”

Harry didn’t miss a beat. “Nope,” he said, shaking his head jovially. “But I’m sure you can find someone.”

With that, he began reading again. Draco was so quiet that he might as well not had been there at all. Harry smirked to himself as he turned the page.

“You know,” Draco said after a while. “I believe you’re right, once again,”

Harry groaned. “Will you just get done with it, Malfoy?” he complained. “I’m trying to read.”

“Well,” Draco said, thoughtfully tapping his chin. “I could just solve my own problem. You wouldn’t mind, would you?”

Harry, having not heard a word that Draco had said, sighed and agreed. “Yeah, okay, whatever. Now will you drop it?”

Draco smirked, trailing his hand down to the fly of his pants.

XxX

A/N: Gah, cliffhanger! Sorry, guys! And I’m sorry it’s been so long to update, though I promise now that school’s out updates will be coming out more often.

Have you seen the three updates on WDYLM? (grins widely) That one should be over with soon, though not as soon as you’d all like, I’ll bet. I’m working on it daily, though. Anyway, back to the subject. This fic should be updated about once or twice a week, now, so I hope you’re keeping a watch out.