Love Bites (Harry Potter: Official Dragon Tamer, Part One)

Bewitched

Saturday Evening
25 July 2009
Draco's POV

Nope.

Nope.

Nope.

Swipe left.

Left.

Left.

Fuck me, this was bad.

I hurled my phone across the reception, watching it shatter as it connected with the wall behind the dining table.

I growled, pointing my wand at the pieces, cast a quick Reparo, and watched the pieces zoom together back into my outstretched hand just so that I could have the satisfaction of flinging it back at the wall again.

Three more times, I threw the goddamned phone and repaired it, and three more times, I was still less than satisfied.

Fuck.

An hour, at least, I'd spent on Grindr, swiping fucking left because they were all awful and unappealing and not. Fucking. Right.

It had been like this for the past couple of weeks.

Since I'd been naïve enough to agree to see Potter again.

Since I'd been asinine enough to kiss the sodding bastard.

Since I'd let my guard down, and so had he.

And it had been incredible.

Beautiful.

He'd been beautiful.

That lithe body of his pressed tightly up to mine, long legs wrapped around me, almost bruising as he clung to me.

And the kissing.

Merciful Merlin, the kissing.

Potter's mouth was absolute heaven. Sweet and hot and pliant. Greedy, demanding more, just like all of him did.

I'd been drowning in him, needing more of him, craving him like the sweetest drug.

And then he'd said my name.

All but sobbed it out. Like a plea. A prayer.

And I'd been utterly lost.

I would have given Harry absolutely anything he wanted at that moment.

And then I'd behaved like a complete arse and shoved him away.

I hadn't even had to look at him to see the hurt and questioning in those eyes. The ones that showed everything he was thinking and feeling.

So here I was, two weeks later, frustrated and angry with myself, completely disinterested in any of the blokes on Grindr, or in the clubs, or at the pub, or anywhere.

The obvious solution was to message Potter.

But I was Draco Fucking Malfoy, and when had I ever taken the obvious solution?

What would I even say to him?

"Hey, sorry I was such an arse last time. I got scared 'cause I've had a massive crush on you since fourth year, and I panicked, so I retreated behind my arsehole façade just in case you decided to hurt me...."

I snorted. Yeah. That'd go over well.

Just for fun, I yanked one of the table lamps from its cord and heaved it across the reception, anticipating the crash as it connected with the wall.