Changing Minds in Hard Times

Draco woke up not knowing what time it was, and for a moment, he didn’t even know where he was. Then he remembered. He remembered Moody touching his mark, and then the blinding pain. He remembered throwing up, and he remembered Harry not wanting to accept the bond.



He sat up in the bed. He didn’t remember getting into bed. Somebody must have put him there. And cleaned him up, he thought as he touched his hair which should have been crusty with vomit. Was it Harry?



He shrugged to himself and climbed out of the bed slowly, heading to the bathroom again. Once he had relieved his bladder, he turned on the shower and stepped under the hot spray.



It was almost a relief that he was already naked; it made it so much easier to do these morning activities. Especially with his sore muscles, and sore throat, which was probably from the screaming and the bile he had brought up when he had thrown up earlier. It couldn’t have been food; Draco hadn’t eaten in about three days now.



But again his thoughts returned to Harry refusing to touch his mark. Did that mean Harry would refuse him forever? Did Harry really want nothing to do with him? But if that was true, then why did Harry stare at his ass whenever he could? And why did he get embarrassed when Draco was naked. People who weren’t interested in something didn’t get that embarrassed over it.



So that had to mean Harry did like him. But if that was true, then why hadn’t he accepted the bond when Draco was in pain? Draco groaned and leaned against the shower wall. Thinking about the brunette hero had done what it always did to him. Draco’s cock stood straight and proud in front of him.



He sighed, shook his head, and went to the task before him. He allowed his mind to drift back to the times in Hogwarts when he had snuck into the Gryffindor locker rooms to watch Harry in the shower. Luckily Harry had been one of the last to shower, since he took the initiative to make sure the equipment was properly put away.



Draco loved watching the tall brunette Gryffindor stroking his own hard cock in the shower. He often wondered just what it was Harry was thinking about when he did that. Probably that redheaded weasel girl.



Thinking about Ginny Weasley almost turned Draco off, before he remembered what he had been focusing on.



He slid his left hand down to cup his balls, while his right hand ran along his hard length. He was imagining that Harry was there, just outside the open door of the bathroom, trying not to let Draco know he was watching. Draco groaned and began stroking faster.



He thought about Harry waiting, watching, and stroking his own cock in time with Draco’s own thrusts into his hand. Those bright green eyes sparkling with interest and lust. His soft, pink tongue darting out to moisten his lips, before using his teeth to tug on his lower lip with a look of indecision. Still, he continued to stroke.



Then, as he felt his own balls tightening, he imagined Harry pushing him down onto his knees, pushing his legs apart, and gently running a finger over the mark on Draco’s back. He imagined Harry whispering a spell to clean, lube, and stretch him, and then pushing his long, hard cock into Draco’s tightness.



Draco couldn’t stop himself. He came hard, with a soft cry of Harry’s name, and then slid down the shower wall, unable to hold himself up anymore.



---X---



What Draco didn’t know, was that Harry was standing just out of sight, outside the bathroom door. He was busily fisting his own cock, watching Draco moan and tug on his own sack. And when Draco came, so did Harry. Nothing had ever felt so good.