The Thing About One-Night Stands

“Shit! Where the bloody fuck did you come from?”

Harry put a hand over his heart, feeling the raging pulse from his recent scare with a shaking hand. He had been minding his own business at a grocery store, thanks, and the very last thing he expected was to see Draco Sodding Malfoy popping out from the cake isle.

“Potter,” Malfoy nodded in greeting as he fidgeted with the cuffs of his shirt. His very muggle shirt. Well, Harry certainly never thought he’d see the day, but there the blond was in a white button up shirt and slate gray trousers, looking entirely uncomfortable and out of place.

“Fancy meeting you here,” Malfoy said, then nodded to his basket. “Why don’t you make your purchases then I’d like a word.”

Ah, Harry knew what was going on now, he’d just gone crazy. That certainly explained a lot. About time too, after all his life had been extremely fucked up until this point. Between his quasi abusive childhood and Voldemort, it made perfect sense that he was bound to go loopy one day. Maybe he could start a club with Luna Lovegood.

Except, well, he didn’t really feel crazy. Was it supposed to feel any different? Maybe it was a dream? Or, maybe there was a small possibility that Malfoy was standing right in front of him fidgeting with the cuffs of his white muggle shirt in the cake isle after all.

“Let me pay and I’ll met you outside.”


***


“Okay, Malfoy,” he said calmly. “You have my attention. What is it that you want?

Harry had led him down to a patch of trees in a city park not far from the store and was currently erecting a privacy charm around them. He was already preparing himself for what this could be about. Hs bet was on Malfoy thanking Harry for saving his life. Or maybe he was going to rant and rave about how he didn’t owe him anything.

Harry watched the pattern from the sun breaking through the canopy dance across Malfoy’s face as he seemed to think for a moment. “Fancy a one-night stand?”

Oh. Maybe he hadn’t really been ready for that one. Hot damn, had Malfoy actually just said that?

“Um.” he blinked. “What?”

“A one-night stand. You know, a one-off, a shag, a fuck, inter-”

“Yeah, I get that,” Harry said, trying not to flush. “Why?”

Malfoy reached his hand out and plucked a leaf from the oak tree he was standing under. He twirled it elegantly between his long fingers, and after a pause spoke again.

“I saw in the papers you were gay.”

Harry waited for him to continue, but apparently that was all. “Yeah, so?”

“So, let’s have a one-off.” Malfoy shrugged like this was a perfectly normal thing to suggest. The way he rolled his shoulders so casually in that gesture, keeping his voice perfectly even and without a trace of emotion made Harry’s insides squirm unpleasantly.

“I understand,” he said, narrowing his eyes. “You thought you’d come make fun of me. Well ha ha, you’ve had your bloody laugh so just fuck off.” He snarled for good measure before bending down and picking up the remains of his broken and smashed groceries. He turned to leave, but was halted but a sudden pressure tugging on his shoulder.

“Wait,” Malfoy said, removing his hand. “This isn’t a joke. You must have heard that I am too.”

Letting out a mighty large sigh, Harry turned around and looked at him skeptically. “Why would I ever agree to that?”

An all too familiar smirk graced Malfoy’s fair lips. “I’m bloody gorgeous and you know it.” The answer was said with a great amount of arrogance, but Harry was almost positive he could see anxiousness and uncertainty flicker in the shadows of Malfoy’s silver eyes.

“Yes, but why would you want a one-off with me?”

The smirk morphed into a grin. “Think about it, Potter. We make the perfect one-night stand. No emotional attachment, no strings, no awkward morning after. Nothing can go wrong since we already hate each other.”

It was irrational, but he felt a small tug in his chest. Sure, Malfoy had been, and still was apparently, a complete prat but Harry didn’t hate him. He had actually thought they would have reached a mutual understanding of each other. Not that he should care, this was Malfoy after all.

Harry frowned and looked down at his plastic grocery bags. There was a crimson substance slowly seeping out a small hole in the bottom crease, chunky with little seeds. Brilliant, there would be a sticky jam mess on everything.

“I’m not interested in that sort of thing.”

Before any protests could be heard, Harry was turning on the spot, right there in the muggle park and apparating away.


****


“Kind of sad, isn’t it, Harry?”

Screaming like a girl in the middle of a book store, and thus earning the attention of everyone in said store, was definitely towards the top of the Never Want To Experience Again list. Sodding Malfoy, this was the seventh time in three days that he had just popped in front of Harry unexpectedly. Regardless of where he went, muggle store or wizard, Malfoy always found a way to make an unexpected appearance right as Harry had let his guard down.

Before the blond could even open his mouth, Harry was hissing at him angrily, “No Malfoy. I said No. No no no no no a million times no, never, never ever so stop asking.”

Malfoy stood a little straighter and sneered at him. “I’m tired of you turning me down, Potter, and this time I wont take no for an answer.”

Harry almost screamed again, this time from frustration. He knew Malfoy had probably hardly wanted to do this in the first place, but now that Harry was turning him down it was making his desire for this one-night stand grow. He speculated that Malfoy had always had a thing for forbidden fruit. It wasn’t about Harry anymore, it was about the chase, the challenge, and the pursuit.

It was the same game, the same waltz they always played: a clashing of wills. Only this time, Harry found his part unfairly more difficult. He had to refuse Malfoy, that’s how the dance was done, but if he continued to be so persistent, if Malfoy continued to give him heated looks with those gray eyes of molten silver that drove all the blood in his body below his waist, he wasn’t sure how long he would be able to resist.

He looked over to the article he had been reading in the Prophet before he had been so unpleasantly surprised. Heart Killer strikes again.

Bloody psychopaths, the world was full of them.


****


Hermione gave Harry a brilliant smile as she levitated a few more books into their respective shelves. Ever since Ron and Hermione had made it their goal to own their own bookstore, Harry had known it would be a success. One year and a pile of bills later, regardless of Harry’s pleas for him to be the one to lend them money, Ron and Hermione’s bookstore was only a few days away from opening. He could feel the excitement radiating off them as three sets of wands flicked and swished, causing books of all sizes and colors to shoot across the room and into their proper places.

“No, Ron. Those books go in the muggle section,” Hermione sighed exasperated, but with a smile planted on her lips.

“But look, it has a moving picture,” Ron said, moving it back and forth in the air. He revealed a hologram book cover that changed between two pictures of the same woman with different facial expressions. The image depended on the angle it was viewed from.

Grabbing Ron, Hermione tugged him out of the isles, making her way to the computer, no doubt. Her new way of lecturing Harry and Ron was with the help of visual representations and articles she would find on the muggle internet as she explained whatever it was she wanted. He thought about following them for a grand total of zero seconds before turning back and continuing with his work.

“Hiii Haaarrryyy,” a raspy voice whispered into his ear. He jerked, trying not to run away like a frightened animal, but only half succeeding as he stumbled back.

“H-hullo, Sara,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand and gripping his wand more firmly with the other. If there was one person in the world who could give anyone the creeps, it was Sara. Her large blue eyes remained focused on him, unblinking as he subtly moved farther away. He continued to flick books across the room with the same concentration one might use when giving heart surgery.

Hermione and Ron were already in severe debt from their loan to open this place. When it came to hiring employees, they needed ones that would work for cheep. Unfortunately, Sara was the best candidate who would not only work for cheep, but also had a knowledge of books that rivaled Hermione’s. It was obvious to Harry that she found ogling him an added bonus.

Her mousy brown hair swished as she approached him, once again disregarding any human decency when it came to respectable boundaries and creeping as close as she liked. He could smell her cheep perfume, smelling sickly sweet of artificial watermelon. Her eyes were accented with green caked on eyeshadow, smudging the top of her glasses.

“Um...”

“Is that yours?” she asked then smiled, displaying a row of white teeth with spots of her pink lipstick.

“Is what mine?” he said, taking a huge step backwards. Without missing a beat she regained her closeness.

“That boy.”

“What b- oh for- GO AWAY!” he shouted as he spotted a very familiar set of gray eyes peering into the window of the store. Smirking, Malfoy made a curricular gesture towards his ears before shrugging.

“Excuse me for a moment,” Harry growled, as he stomped away from Sara. He heard her sigh dramatically, as if he had just announced the end of the world, but ignored it as he wrenched open the door to the shop and marched out onto the street.

“Malfoy, are you stalking me or something?”

“Or something,” he said, silver eyes dancing with amusement.

“I could get a restraining order.”

“Really?”

“Yes!” Harry hissed, moving closer in what he hoped was a more threatening manor. The action caused Malfoy’s eyes to travel up and down his body before he purred .

“Fantasizing about restraining me? Kinky.”

Harry fought down a blush. “Get out of here already!”

“Who was that girl?”

“No one,” he said, trying not to shutter at the feeling of her eyes still on him. Malfoy smirked.

“Face it, Potter, one of these days...” Malfoy leaned in closer and Harry caught a pleasant whiff of his clean smell. “You’re going to cave.”

As Harry heard the distinctive pop! of apparation, he made a resolution. He would never, ever give into the blond.


***


Harry’s resolve ended up lasting two days. It was after Malfoy had charged out of a bathroom stall of the bank like a bull charging a matador where he found himself unable to look away from Malfoy’s lust crazed eyes.

It was awkward bringing Malfoy into his flat. Besides Ron and Hermione, no one had ever stepped inside. The place reeked of stale food and dirty laundry, which he kept meaning to spell clean. It was lit with muggle electricity, yellow lights that gave the place an artificial grunge. He waited for Malfoy’s expected snarkiness, telling him how lowly he lived, how pathetic his small flat was, how much better Malfoy’s lifestyle was, but none came. Instead Malfoy’s eyes hardly wavered before fixing on Harry’s again.

“Bedroom?” His voice was an octave lower, husky and breathy. Harry could already feel the arousal prickling down his spine.

Not trusting his vocal cords to operate properly he started down the narrow hall to where he slept. The bedroom was dark; it always was. The blinds hadn’t been opened since he moved in and a thick film of dust covered them. Predictably, the bed wasn’t made, the sheets filled the room with the smell of stale sleep that they had soaked up over the months. Fleetingly he wished he would have done this at Malfoy’s place instead. He had thought it would be better at his own, having the home advantage, but now he was cursing himself for not thinking ahead enough to cast even a few cleaning spells.

The messy flat was only a small addition to his real nervousness. He was honest enough with himself to know he hadn’t wanted to do this in the first place because of his lack of experienced. He wasn’t sure what Malfoy was expecting, but doubts that he wouldn’t be able to perform well swam around like deadly sharks, eating away at his confidence.

His nervousness must have been apparent because with slow, smooth hands Malfoy was tugging at his waist, pulling him to the bed.

“Relax,” he whispered into Harry’s ear, causing a shiver to cascade down his agitated body. “We’ll go as slow as you need.”

And then Malfoy’s lips were pressed to his, soft and supple, demanding but gentle. Harry couldn’t stop the tremble in his hands as they reached for the clasp on Malfoy’s robes, but before they touched the cold, smooth metal, warm, soft hands were halting him. He pulled back, staring down at their joined hands that looked ridiculously intimate. But then again, even unattached, sex was an intimate experience no matter what. Before he could question why he’d been stopped, he was yanked back, falling to the bed on top of Malfoy. The new position calmed the nervous tremors instantly, having Malfoy underneath him and the small amount of power that came with it.

Still, Malfoy took control, lacing his fingers behind Harry’s neck and pulling him down for a more saucy kiss that ended in breathless pants while tongues slid eagerly together. Silver eyes were burning him again, that same heated look from before amplified to searing proportions and he trembled, only this time in pure arousal.

It’s just a one-night stand, he reminded himself again and again. It doesn’t mean anymore than that. It isn’t suppose to mean anymore than that. He needed to calm down and think rationally, so he closed his eyes, blocking himself from the intense gaze the silver eyes gave him, trying to disconnect himself as much as possible.

Experimentally, he ran his nose up Malfoy’s jaw line then followed the path with little open mouth kisses. He could feel the head underneath him shift and his lips landed onto an arching neck. Slowly he made his way down, sucking on the areas that brought moans and gasps. It was amazing to cause such sounds of passion, exhilarating and addicting all at once.

Eyes still closed, his fingers felt around to undo the clasp on Malfoy’s robes and the top few buttons on his shirt, exposing more soft flesh for his tongue to sample. Malfoy tasted so good, warm and clean with a hint of salty sweetness. Harry didn’t even realize he had started minutely thrusting his hips until his erection was pushed down on Malfoy’s, drawing out long, lust filled moans from both.

Oh, it was brilliant. So much more arousing than his own hand, so much better because of the way Malfoy writhed underneath him, pouring out sounds of passion that drove Harry absolutely wild with desire. It was flawless, their bodies fitting so well together as they thrust their hips. It was... too soon.

“No!” Harry gasped, trying to roll off, trying to stop the tightening of his balls, trying so hard to fight the orgasm that spilled out much, much sooner than he wanted.

Completely mortified, Harry slid off Malfoy and buried his head in the pillow. He felt thirteen again, completely out of control of his body and, what’s worse, he had just lost that control in front of Malfoy of all people. It had been so long since he had been with anyone, and the feel of Malfoy underneath him had been too much.

Now he just wanted to be alone. It was just as he had always feared, he wasn’t any good in bed. Why, oh why hadn’t Harry agreed to do this at Malfoy’s place instead of his dirty, yellow light, dusty bedroom? There he could have at least run out, but now he had to wait for Malfoy to leave. He’d probably run straight to the Prophet with the story of The Boy Who Pre-ejaculated.

Finally he felt a shift in the mattress and waited. Waited to feel the bed lifting, for Malfoy to stand over him and leer and taunt, but the feeling never came. Instead he shifted closer and Harry was suddenly aware of two things: a hand running down his back and a soft breath in his ear.

“I’m flattered, Harry.” He paused to chuckle. “I didn’t realize you’d cream you pants from just a little rutting. But I can’t say I blame you, I am that sexy.”

He couldn’t tell if Malfoy’s voice was mocking or not, but he didn’t risk raising his head from the safety of his pillow, not even with the painful feeling of his glasses frames cutting into his check and the bridge of his noise.

“Relax.” Malfoy’s hand never stopped it’s soothing motions across his shoulder blades and down his back. “Happens to everyone. You’ll laugh about it one day.”

Oh no, no no no. Malfoy was trying to comfort him and that was entirely worse than mockery. He wanted to die. He wondered if he pushed down hard enough weather he could manage to smother himself in the bedding.

“As much as I enjoy how cute you look all embarrassed with your head in that pillow, I rather think it’s time to get on with things.”

Harry didn’t move.

“Harry!” Malfoy chuckled. “I’m not done with you yet, turn over.”

Harry still didn’t move.

When he felt the warm, wetness of a tongue tracing the shell of his ear he gasped, the sound muffled by the pillow.

“Come on,” Malfoy said, his voice going low and husky once again. “Turn over, I want more.”

How could he face Malfoy after that? But he couldn’t just sit there suffocating, he had to do something. So he turned, slowly away from Malfoy.

With his body twisted, it gave access for the hand that had been rubbing his back to creep around to his front. It continued it’s slow, circular motions soothing over his chest and then, without warning it shot down between his trousers and Harry yelped in surprise.

He was aware of the movement behind him and the sound of a zipper, but he was too distracted to do anything as the hand rubbed inside his own pants, gently massaging his sensitive member while the hot mouth on his neck sucked the tenderly. Harry didn’t know what was happening, but the feeling of Malfoy behind him, almost spooning their bodies was rather nice and he didn’t feel all that compelled to ruin it.

When the hand was removed abruptly and Malfoy pulled away Harry had to swallow a sound of disappointment. Cautiously he turned his body to peak around his shoulder. Malfoy was smiling at him in a lascivious manner, moving his hand down his chest, palm hovering just barely above the skin.

“Want to watch?” he spoke in a throaty voice.

“What are you doing?” he gasped as Malfoy’s hand curled around his own erection. The blond smiled and started to pull up and down in slow, smooth motions on his shaft. Watching the hand over the flushed and redden skin was mesmerizing and had him frozen to the spot. His eyes had been locked to the movement when he was suddenly brought out of his daze as Malfoy moaned and sped up his strokes.

“That’s hot,” Malfoy groaned. “Fuck. ’S good when you watch.”

He felt a blush creep up on his checks but allowed his gaze to flick up to Malfoy’s face. The silver eyes were dark with lust, pupils blow and lips parted. Harry only looked for a moment before shyness got the best of him and he ducked his head back down to watch the erotic display of the hand pulling roughly.

Malfoy stilled and chuckled. “What would be even better...” He reached out and gripped Harry’s hand, bringing it closer to his lap suggestively. Harry understood and tentatively curved his fingers, feeling Malfoy’s cock twitch at the touch.

“Yesss,” Malfoy hissed, fastening his own hand over Harry’s in a vice like grip and moving them both up and down. It was strangely exciting touching Malfoy like this, being controlled but at the same time having his skin dragging across the velvety surface of Malfoy’s cock.

“Mmm, yes that’s it, Harry. That’s good.”

Between strokes Harry began to squeeze at the reddened head of Malfoy’s cock and gradually the little grunts and moans became louder as the pace sped up. Harry closed his eyes, feeling the rumble of desire vibrating in his groin, hardening his cock once more. It didn’t feel like enough, he wanted, needed to do more. Slowly, without changing the pace of his hand, he shifted closer and continued his earlier task of licking and sucking Malfoy’s collar bone. His other hand started to work on the buttons once more, revealing the softest skin, so silken it could belong to an angel.

When Malfoy’s thighs started to twitch Harry knew his orgasm was coming and tightened his grip. Malfoy’s pale hand fell away as his golden one sped to a blur. When Malfoy came he could feel the pulses against his palm, the hot, wet splatter of come over his hands, the moan against his lips. There was a warm crackling sound all around him and a felling like sun rays caressing his skin.

For a long while Malfoy just lay there on his back, eyes closed, face flushed, lungs rising and falling quickly while he panted for air. Harry had a to fight the most ridiculous urge to move closer and put his arms around the warm body next to him. He’d never thought he’d want to do something so preposterous as snuggling, that was for girls after all, but what he wanted to do now couldn’t have been far off. Instead he rolled over onto his back and tried to ignore the discomfort of his renewed erection pressing against his zipper. His come had cooled and it wasn’t very pleasant to feel it drying in his pants, but he was afraid to move, to break this peaceful moment he didn’t think he’d ever have again with Malfoy. He rubbed his fingers together, feeling the slick come in his hand and wondering how long the musky sent would stay in his skin.

“A shower,” Malfoy said, surprising him and causing an embarrassing jerk of his body.

“Bathroom’s over there.” Harry pointed then pushed his glasses onto his head and threw an arm over his eyes, trying to get a grip on his hormones. He had just come, after all, his body had no right to get so aroused at the thought of Malfoy in his shower, naked with water running down all that angel soft skin.

The bed shifted and he could hear the soft thumping of footfalls on his floor. The thud of shoes followed by the whisper of fabric and clanking of a belt. Harry’s heart rate surged at the realization that Malfoy was undressing in front of him, all it would take is for his arm to move just a little higher and he could peak at that lithe body. Did he dare?

Slowly he lifted his arm and peered out, the light seemingly a lot brighter than it had been. Malfoy was looking down at him, still dressed in a pair of boxers with his hands on his hips. There was something different about his face, a softer expression that Harry realized was the result of an amused, but genuine smile formed on his lips.

“Coming?”

Harry blinked. “What?”

“Shower, Potter, you know, a place where normal people wash and clean their bodies?” Malfoy chuckled, the same warmness as before still bouncing underneath the sound of his laugh. “Come on, I’m getting cold.”

Harry sat up and could feel his glasses fall off and land behind him on the bed. “With you?”

“Yes” Malfoy said, rolling his eyes. “Now hurry up and undress. Although, I wouldn’t be opposed at all to help you out.”

Slowly he got to his feet and started to pull off his robe, Malfoy watching with appraising eyes all the while with a gleaming in his eyes that made Harry’s insides squirm. He blushed, feeling shy and nervous and not for the first time wondering if this was how a one-night stand usually went. Shouldn’t Malfoy be gone now that they had both gotten off? Did Malfoy wanted to take everything father? Did he want to fuck Harry?

Malfoy’s hands suddenly appeared on the hem of his shirt, tugging it up and causing Harry to jump in surprise, but make no move to pull away. Instead, he lifted his arms to help. The shirt was tossed to the floor, and while Malfoy’s hands found their way to the fastenings of his jeans, a soft kiss was placed onto his shoulder. It was tender, gentle, precious and Harry felt lost in a sea of emotions.

As his jeans and boxers pooled around his ankles Malfoy took a step back. His thumbs rubbed soothing circles on Harry’s hipbones while his gray eyes scanned the body in front of him. Blushing, Harry tried to cover himself modestly with his hands, not sure what to think of Malfoy’s appraisal or the way it caused his stomach to flutter. After what felt like a lifetime had past, Harry was being drawn closer into what could only be described as a hug, pressed skin to skin as their chest touched. Malfoy held him tight, arms traveling up and down his back. As he turned his head, Harry realized they were suddenly check to check in an absurdly intimate moment that shouldn’t ever be experienced except between true lovers.

Is that what they were now? Why was Malfoy hugging, no, holding him close in an intimate embrace?

Before Harry could contemplate the situation further, Malfoy pulled away and started leading him.

“I’m getting cold,” he whispered softly as if any louder words might shatter the air around them. Harry couldn’t help but agree, the atmosphere was suddenly unbelievably delicate.

Malfoy guided him into the bathroom and started the shower with a squeak of metal. The light was much brighter, not yellow like the rest of the house, but a brilliant white bouncing off the tiles. The ambiance of the room was filled with the sounds of droplets hitting the shower floor, the air misted with warm steam. Harry’s shower was small, only for one person really, but Malfoy didn’t seem to care as he pulled Harry in with him, embracing him once again.

“Mmm,” Malfoy hummed pleasantly against his shoulder as the hot water hit their skin. “I love a nice, hot shower. Especially when I don’t have to take it alone.”

A response was on the tip of his tongue but it quickly turned into a gasp as he felt a warm hand wrap around his hardening member. With slow movements it started to pull and twist, causing blazing pleasure to spread throughout his abdomen.

“Mal-Malfoy...” he whispered as his head lolled and eyes closed.

He was squeezed once more, then felt Malfoy pull away and cried out from the loss. The next thing he knew Malfoy was down on his knees, his lips not even an inch from the angry crimson head of his swollen cock. Oh sweet Merlin, he’d never been so turned on from the prospect of a blowjob in his entire life. He could feel his cock pulsing, twitching desperately for those lips to wrap around him, and then they were- warm, wet heat surrounded him and holy hell he couldn’t look away at the sight of himself disappearing into Malfoy’s pouty lips. It took a lot of will power not to just grab the blond head and shove himself down that warm throat, thrusting into that pretty little mouth again and again. He could feel the spongy firmness of Malfoy’s tongue gliding along the underside, pressing against the thick vein at the bottom of his cock and couldn’t stop the little mewing noises that formed in the back of is throat.

Good god, Malfoy just kept sinking him inside his mouth until Harry could feel the softness at the back of his throat.

“Oh fuck oh fuck ohfuckfuckfuck...” Harry’s head thrashed side to side, eyes squeezed tight and he was trying his very best not to thrust. It felt good, arousing, brilliantly good, igniting every single nerve ending in his body with flames of passion. The water beating down on his skin added to the sensations and Harry was ashamed in the knowledge that he wouldn’t last very long again.

As Malfoy started pulling back he sucked hard and Harry decided it was likely the most dazzling sensation in the world. Malfoy’s mouth started working him in and out with a bobbing rhythm that had Harry’s brain turned to mush and his body going limp in pleasure. Pale hands explored his inner thighs, moving up slowly until fingers were brushing against his balls and pressing just behind at a spot that made a spark of arousal shoot through his body. The fingers kept working their magic, one hand rolling his balls while the other crept behind, into the cleft of his arse until he could feel it circle his entrance.

“Nuah... god mmm... naanngh,” he moaned appreciatively. His hands scrabbled for purchase, finally landing on Malfoy’s shapely shoulders. Every once in a while he’d reach up and run one gently through Malfoy’s wet golden locks. His hair was smooth and soft between Harry’s fingers, and he couldn’t help but feel a jolt of tenderness in his stomach. He barely found the strength to open his eyes and watch Malfoy’s blond head bobbing up and down, those pink lips stretched and checks hallowed in the most erotic sight he had ever seen. His gazed was locked with silver eyes so full of passion and desire that it pulled Harry close to the edge. When he felt a finger enter him, squirm around slightly and then rub that wonderful spot, it was over, and Harry couldn’t do anything but scream. His hips snapped forward, his back arching, cock pulsed strongly as large strings of pearly come spattering into the back of Malfoy’s throat. Harry could only whimper and sob as he experienced the best fucking fantastic orgasm of his entire life.

When it finally subsided Harry all but fell to the ground, the only thing stopping his knees from slamming into the tile floor was Malfoy’s arms catching him around his torso. There wasn’t much room so Harry ended up more or less sitting in the blond’s lap, a hard member sliding along the cleft of his arse. It took a long time for the pleasant sizzling around Harry to subside and when it finally did his mind started to become aware of what was happening around him. Malfoy had him in another tight embrace and Harry’s legs had been shifted so that he was now straddling his lap. Soft, urgent kisses were paced on his shoulders and neck, another strange show of affection Harry didn’t understand.

His hands once again found Malfoy’s shoulders, soft and wet from the shower spray. Experimentally he moved his hips forward a bit, sliding his arse across Malfoy’s cock and eliciting a hiss. Malfoy eyed him pleadingly and he continued, rolling his hips and relishing the feel of Malfoy’s shaft between the cleft of his arse, twitching hotly.

There was something about knowing he was causing Malfoy to squirm in pleasure underneath him, gasping and moaning. Something really addictive, like a craving for sugar. Malfoy’s face was buried in his neck panting with the rhythm of their moving bodies, moaning and gasping so loud the noise over powered the sound of the shower spray. It only took a few more long, hard rubs before Malfoy was arching his back and crying out something that sounded a lot like Harry’s name.

It was a while before their breath evened out, but Harry didn’t mind as he took a guilty pleasure in the feeling of being held against Malfoy’s body. The water caressed their bodies gently, warm and gentle.

Afterwards Malfoy washed him tenderly, carefully covering every inch of skin with his soapy hands like he was worshipping Harry’s body. Every muscles was massaged, every sensitive area pampered. All too happily, Harry returned the favor.

When they fell into bed that night Harry was careful to keep to his side. The pleasantness of all that had happened was swimming through his mind happily. He drifted off to sleep with the smell of Malfoy all around him and a feeling not unlike floating.


***


The rustling of fabric stirred Harry from his sleep. He realized he was sprawled in the center of his bed, resting on his stomach and Malfoy was no where in site. A soft sounding rustle of cloth drew his eyes to a blurry form pulling a robe onto its shoulders.

“Leaving?” Harry whispered in a sleepy voice.

“What?” Malfoy said, flinching. “Oh, sorry. Didn’t mean to wake you. Got an early engagement I’ve got to rush off to. Don’t bother getting up, I’ll let myself out.”

Harry noticed he wasn’t looking directly at him, and that was the closest to rambling that he had ever heard from Malfoy. So much for it not being awkward between them. Harry turned over and push his face back into the pillow, trying to squash down the hurt feeling that was squeezing his chest. He knew when this all started this is how it would end. He shouldn’t care so much that Malfoy had planned to leave him without even saying goodbye. That’s how one-night stands were supposed to work.

He regretted what he said next. His treacherous mouth opening and forming words without his consent. He had no right to ask, but still he did, rising his head so his words would be heard clearly.

“Can we have dinner tonight?”

The effect of the words were instantaneous. Even without his glasses he could see clearly how Malfoy’s whole back went stiff and his eyes met Harry’s, their cold steel sending shivers down his spine.

“Don’t go getting all clingy on me now, Potter.”

The words were spoken with disdain. Here was the real Malfoy standing in front of Harry now, not the kind and gentle one from the previous night. It had all been just a play, an act.

God did he regret it. Now his memories of last night would be tainted with those cold, steal gray eyes.

“I... Right. Forget it.”

Malfoy’s eyes held such cruelty it made it harder for Harry to breath. He looked away, aware that it was the submissive thing to do, to be the first to break eye contact, but he didn’t care. He just wanted to be left alone now.

“It was only a one-night stand,” Malfoy said. “It was fun. It felt good. But now it’s over. You mean nothing to me, nor do I mean anything to you.”

He seemed unbelievably angry, his voice loud and quivering, his face red. The thought of Harry wanting something more was obviously very loathed by him. Harry turned his head away once again.

“Right. I get it. Just leave already.”

A moment later he heard the door slam. When he looked over, Malfoy was gone.


***

TBC

++++

First multi chaptered fic I’ve ever tried to write. Its ‘done’ more or less, I just have to clean it up. ^_^