Chapter 21

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"Draco?"

"Mmm?" he replied absently, flicking his tongue out and licking Harry's throat lightly, curiously. It tasted like he had always imagined Harry would taste, and Draco didn't bother wondering when he'd ever sat and wondered what Harry's skin would taste like. Instead, he opened his mouth a bit and sucked lightly.

Startled, Harry whimpered, trying to twist away and pull Draco closer at the same time. The result was that Draco lost his balance and fell partially on top of him, and before he could right himself and pull away, one of Harry's arms had come up and wrapped around his shoulders, pinning him there. Rather startled himself, Draco whispered, "Oi, Harry, make up your sodding mind."

Instead of making up his mind, Harry licked his lips, and Draco was lost. With a helpless sort of nervous worry in his eyes, his eyes were drawn to Harry's mouth, mere inches from his own, and he closed the small distance to kiss him. Harry sensed it, opening his mouth eagerly, a strange sort of shivering urgency in the way he leaned upwards, meeting Draco halfway. Their mouths crashed together, Harry's tongue pushing almost angrily into Draco's mouth, startling him. Panicking, Draco tried to pull away, and Harry felt his fear and the kiss changed, gentled, and it was Harry soothing Draco this time. Sucking his lower lip in an apologetic way, Harry stroked Draco's cheek carefully, calming him, and Draco wondered wryly when it had changed and become Harry worrying about pushing Draco too far.

The nervous butterflies calmed at the sweetness of Harry's mouth below his, and Draco relaxed, flicking his tongue against Harry's, drawing it back inside his mouth. He felt Harry smile against his lips and couldn't help but smile back.

Draco wasn't sure what he was doing or what it would lead to, all he knew was that this was what Harry wanted, this would somehow make things easier for Harry, and that was all that mattered. If Harry wanted, Draco would have walked to the moon and back, and this seemed infinitely simpler, easier, and much safer. This was just Harry. Kissing Harry. It should have scared him, but it didn't, it only made him terribly nervous and excited and shaky and... He smiled again, because Harry hadn't yet mastered the art of breathing through his nose, and he'd pulled away, sucking in a ragged breath, turning his face to the side and panting.

He didn't want to stop kissing him, so Draco kissed the corner of Harry's lips while the other boy tried to catch his breath, and then slid lower, to the line of his jaw, tracing that up to his ear. A strangled, breathless whimper made him smirk as he bit Harry's earlobe gently and sucked it a little, before nuzzling the skin behind Harry's ear and kissing it lightly.

"C'mon now," he whispered, smiling. "It's not so hard, surely you remember how to breathe, Harry."

"It's not..." Harry gasped. "That I forget...how to... how to breathe... it's just that you're not...giving me time to catch my breath!"

Deciding that if he had enough breath to say all of that, he must have caught it after all, and Draco tilted Harry's face back up and kissed him again, shifting instinctively, until he was kneeling over Harry, both hands on his chin, framing his face and keeping it still. Only after he had reassured himself that Harry wouldn't twist away again, Draco let his hands slip lower, down over Harry's shoulders, his arms, and finally to his hands, pinning them to the grass and pressing his on top. Palm to palm, Harry automatically curled his fingers around Draco's hands, even as he opened his mouth with a tiny whimper that sounded rather like a purr, letting Draco's tongue slip inside.

That sound sent something wild and hot spiraling low in Draco's stomach and it was rather like a strong shot of alcohol that went straight to his brain. Reacting to that, and the heat of Harry's mouth, Draco let himself stretch out on top of the other boy, pinning him almost in the exact way he had on the Quidditch pitch the day he'd fallen from his broom: chest, hips, and thighs.

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