Winter of the Heart

Woot! Woot! Chapter five is finally here! I know you guys have all been on the edge of your seats…. Lol…. Um… This chapter has a slight lemon…. Just a tiny one but this is a slightly bigger chapter than my previous ones because I wanted to fit everything in it. Anyway…. Enjoy!

-0-

Potter’s expression was just too funny. If Draco had known that being this close to the boy who lived would make him tense and look so nervously wide eyed, he would have done it before.

He was the first to admit that he loved to tease the green eyed boy and Potter’s current embarrassment was just more fodder for the suddenly malicious Slytherin.

“My my, what are you thinking of Potter that has your face such an interesting shade of red. Practicing being a Gryffindor? That shade of red isn’t really your color though”, Draco smirked as he crouched in front of the blushing boy.

He was lying of course; the color on Potter’s face was simply delicious. It spread from his cheeks and slid below his shirt collar. Draco’s fingers itched to to pull off that oversized shirt and see how far down that fabulous flush went.

“Don’t be ridiculous Malfoy! Are you really trying to tell me that you don’t know what that stuff is for?” Potter glared defiantly, his eyes shooting sparks of ire.

“I haven’t the faintest idea what it is. Why don’t you enlighten me?” Draco leaned closer, so close he could see that Potter’s eyes weren’t really a solid emerald instead they were filled with silver flecks that reflected the light.

He felt his chest become tight as that faintly aching feeling came back to him again. The smell rising from Potter’s skin was like ambrosia, sweet and tangy with sweat. The skin of his shoulder blades began to twitch once more and Draco thought vaguely that he had found his mate.

“I- Its… you’re too close. Stop crowding me!” Potter frowned fiercely as he shoved at the hard wall of Draco’s chest.

Draco smirked as he felt the push but he didn’t budge. The heat of Potter’s hands burned through his clothes and he felt his heart skip a beat.

He found himself staring at Potter’s lips. They really were lovely lips, all pink and soft and kissable. Maybe a tad too thin, but no one was perfect. He was sure that if he kissed them enough they would swell and pout.

“M-Malfoy?” Draco dragged his gaze from those lips up to black eyes; the green was so dark now it had all but disappeared. Draco cocked his head to one side, considering this predicament.

He could kiss Potter and he knew that Potter would let him. Merlin, the boy was practically begging him to with those eyes.

Ignoring the consequences, he grabbed that shaggy head of black hair and pulled those lips close.

Oh, it was sweet. Potter tasted like chocolate, sweet and velvety smooth. His mouth opened and Draco swallowed the protest he knew was rising in the boy’s throat.

He buried his fingers in that hair, engulfing Potter in his embrace. He wanted to feel more of that helpless desire; he craved that explosive passion that hid beneath all of their exchanges.

He was drowning in it, in those dark eyes that fluttered shut and those nimble fingers that were clutching his shirt, twisting the material as Potter held on.

He wanted to stand here forever, feeling their teeth clack and their moans mingle between their lips.

When he finally lifted his head, he sighed as he looked into languid jade eyes gazing dazedly back at him.

He could tell when Potter came back to himself as those eyes widened then narrowed.

“What the bloody hell? You- you kissed me. Are you insane?” Potter wriggled until he let him go.

Draco silently mourned the lost of that lithe little frame that fit his so perfectly. Potter belonged in his arms and he took a deep breath as he decided then and there that he would make sure the boy who lived would always be in his arms, if only figuratively.

“Don’t just stand there, say something. You kissed me. Why would you do that?” Potter backed away slowly.

“I wanted to. Is that really so wrong? You wanted me to, I could tell so what’s the problem? You didn’t seem to mind so much when you were kissing me back”, Draco crowded the boy into a corner.

He could see that slender chest heaving, could see Potter struggling for breath. He knew what he must be feeling.

Draco had read many books about the veela when he came into his inheritance. The mate of a veela was the most susceptible to the veela’s charms.

He knew that Potter must be feeling that tug between them, that tightening sweetness edged with pain. Draco could feel it too now and understood that they were indeed mates.

He groaned inwardly as he berated himself. How could he have missed this? He always had strong feelings for Potter, but he could never really define them as good or bad.

His breath caught in his throat as he took in the submissive pose Potter was taking in front of him. Hands splayed open against the wall he was leaning, that delicate neck was arched in surrender.

Potter may not realize what he was doing, what he was telling Draco with his erotic display but Draco knew. He could tell that Potter was giving in and letting him do what he wanted with that body so delightfully exposed.

A predatory light entered his eyes as he obligingly gave Potter what he was silently asking for. Sliding a hand around that slender waist and a hand in that ragged hair, Draco dipped his head and drank from those parted pink lips.

Sighing as he lost himself utterly in the kiss, he tightened his hold as Potter ground himself closer. He rubbed knuckles on the soft skin of Potter’s neck and swallowed the shivering moan he was given in response.

The hand fisting that baggy t shirt shoved it out of the way and marveled at the fever hot skin of Potter’s back, at the panting breaths he could feel rocking that frame.

He had always known deep down inside that this was what he was made for, an object of pleasure.


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Harry was on fire. He had never been kissed like this before, bitingly hot as if Malfoy wanted to eat him from the mouth down. He knew that he should stop him, push him away but he couldn’t deny himself as much of this sensation as possible.

For the first time since he had defeated Voldermort, Harry Potter was at peace. The hard planes of Malfoy’s chest were his to explore and the calloused hands caressing his back felt so good.

He gasped helplessly when Malfoy finally let him go and peeled off his shirt. Those hands were sliding over his chest now and he couldn’t stop the trembling of his muscles or the arching of his body when those fingers tweaked his nipples.

The things he was doing felt so good and Harry wanted to protest, to remind Malfoy that they weren’t lovers, weren’t even friends but he couldn’t find the words because he was burning from the inside out.

Malfoy started a fire in him, a fire that made him buck and claw at that smooth back when a wicked tongue flicked across his collar bone, laved his nipples, suckled at his fingertips.

‘It’s too much… too fast… too painfully close‘, Harry tried to catch his breath but as Malfoy pushed him down onto a conjured bed he gasped, drinking in the emotion suffused on that face.

He reveled in the press of Malfoy’s body restraining his movements, almost suffocating him in its intensity. His breath ghosted out his parted lips as he felt those hands slither down to his hips and caress his belly. His groin throbbed and twitched, bringing him in contact with that corresponding hardness.

This was the closest to anyone Harry had ever been, the closest to sex he’d ever been and he was shockingly aroused.

He would have never guessed that he could feel this way especially with Malfoy, the boy who tried to challenge him at every turn.

His trousers were being dispensed with now and the cool air on his cock made it harden further. He knew he was blushing, could feel the heat of it suffusing his face and prickling down his neck. No one had seen this much of him in years as he always changed in the bathroom stalls.

He knew he should stop him now, before it was too late but as he opened his mouth to say the words, he was speechless. Malfoy was the sexiest thing he had ever seen.

Harry had snuck a peek at Wizards and their Wands magazine from Seamus once but he had never seen anything like this before.

The naked body crouching predatorily over him was leanly muscled and pale like carved marble. He wanted to touch it, to touch him.

‘Especially there’, He could feel drool filling his mouth as he took in the long curving cock twitching between those sculpted thighs.

Harry had never thought of another boy’s cock as being beautiful before but couldn’t imagine why now as he was overcome with a need to touch it, to lick it.

“Mmhhine”, Harry shivered as covetous words purred in his ear and that undulating body raked stingingly hot pleasure through him.

He could feel that delicious pink cock grinding against his own. It was stunning, a white burst of pleasure that started at the base of his spine and tingled as it built.

He dimly realized that he was garbling, wailing mindlessly at the escalating hunger within him. That body was slick atop him, wet with the sweat of their efforts and sliding frustratingly awry.

He frotted, withering and shrieking madly as he felt something coming…. something tightening… something exploding within him.

He exploded unexpectedly and brightly like the hot white light of a star shatters into a million pieces before it dies.

His last thought before he succumbs to unconsciousness is a revelation. These arms are the ones that hold him in his dreams. This is the feeling of security and love that Harry had been searching for.