A Walk In The Park (A Drarry FanFiction)

Chapter Eight

   Draco pulled the ring on his own cider, still pleasantly buzzing from the drinks at the pub, and took a swig. "I think you seem fun," he said, giving Harry a smile. "I think what you see is what you get."

Harry grinned at him and nodded, looking around his personal space like he didn't see it every day, like he was using fresh eyes. "That doesn't sound too bad," he said.

"It's not bad," Draco said. "It's good. I like to know where I stand with people."

This sobered Harry a bit. "Yeah," he said, bumping his shoulder gently into Draco's. "I'm starting to get that."

Draco couldn't help but feel another flush of shame again, thinking of what had happened at the pub. He'd opened up and got bitten for his troubles. Not by Harry, but the good old association of getting kicked when he let himself be vulnerable was still there.

It must have shown on his face, because Harry took a step in front of him and slipped his hand carefully onto Draco's hip. Harry was right, he shouldn't let some stranger affect him so badly, but the words kept playing in his head. The physical contact was good, it grounded him back to the bedroom, letting the pub flit away.

"I'll always try and be honest with you," Harry said softly. The 'always' implied something that would be happening in the future, and it made Draco's heart skip. "I don't like that you're upset. You don't think there's anything wrong with us kissing do you?"

Draco shook his head vigorously. "I'm not ashamed of who I am," he told Harry fiercely, feeling bold enough to look him in the eye.

"Good," said Harry, putting down his can on the desk. "Because there's nothing wrong with this." He lifted his hands to run his fingers through Draco's hair, and he was glad he hadn't cut it in a while, he like the feeling of it slipping through Harry's loose grip. He closed his eyes and drifted with the sensation. "And there's nothing wrong with this," Harry continued, touching his lips to Draco's neck, trailing kisses slowly up his jaw line, setting his skin alight with pleasure.

Draco reached out and set his own cider down as well, letting his hands feel up the length of Harry's back and down again, coming to rest on his hips, pulling the two of them closer together as Harry found his mouth again.

"And there's definitely nothing wrong with this," he whispered between kisses, and Draco could feel himself getting light headed. He hoped he was doing alright, because Harry was so vastly superior to anyone else he'd locked tongues with and Draco didn't want to be embarrassing himself. But Harry didn't seem to be complaining as he nuzzled closer, working their mouths with fervour.

"There might be something wrong with this though," he mumbled pulling up Draco's lightweight jumper, running his hands against his obliques. "Far too much of it." Draco grinned and bit his lip as he raised his arms for Harry to strip him from the waist up. Nakedness had never really featured in his sexual adventures so far, quickies in the great outdoors didn't really allow for it. He thought he'd feel more shy, but Harry was flooding him with confidence, making it perfectly clear how happy and excited he was, how much he wanted him, and Draco couldn't do much more than succumb and enjoy himself.

Before their lips could meet again he slid his hands under Harry's flannel shirt, pushing it off his shoulders as Harry helped by yanking his t-shirt off in one swift move. He had a beautiful body, muscular without being intimidating and skin a lovely olive colour. For a second, Draco worried Harry might think he was too pale and skinny, but the next thing he knew he was being dragged across the room, a tangle of limbs and mashed lips as they tumbled onto the bed, bare skin feeling incredible and everywhere.

"Anyone ever tell you," Harry uttered, his mouth pecking kisses down Draco's chest. "How gorgeous you are?"

Draco was gasping for air, hands running through Harry's course black hair. "Not really," he admitted, unable to surpass a happy laugh. "No one I cared about."

"Atrocious," said Harry, working his way back up again. "What a travesty. You're fucking gorgeous." He threw his glasses at the bedside cabinet and latched on to Draco's mouth again, their bodies grinding together as Draco's jeans became uncomfortable with his arousal.

He could feel his fingers digging into Harry's back, he was probably bruising the poor guy, but he was just so solid, so real, Draco couldn't seem to hold on tight enough. He was flying, he felt like he could touch the sky.

This was way better than skating.

Harry's hands were busy with his jeans, and Draco followed his lead, tackling Harry's belt, not breaking their kiss other than to gasp for breath and dive back in again. Soon there was nothing but flesh, nothing but sensation and shudders and cries that made Draco wish they'd locked the door, but not concerned enough to cause anything more than the briefest of pauses.

A drawer was opened, and Draco felt his eyes roll into the back of his head as Harry's hand slipped between them, making them slick and wet, helping them glide together as Draco gritted his teeth and stuttered Harry's name over and over.

He was close, Harry was too by the sounds of it as he whispered in Draco's ear, sweet promises of things to come, declarations that might have made Draco blush if he wasn't teetering over the edge...

His body jerked and he grabbed Harry by the shoulders as he too found his completion, collapsing on top of Draco as he gasped for air, feeling like he was seeing stars behind his closed eyes.

They lay in a tangled mess, chests rising and falling as they came back down to Earth. After a time, Harry raised his head from Draco's neck, sweeping his blond hair from his eyes and staring down at him. "You alright?" he asked, fingers trailing down the side of his face, running along his lower lip.

Draco found his hands moving too, tracing patterns on Harry's back. "Definitely nothing wrong with that," he said through a grin.

He hadn't meant to fall asleep, he hadn't meant to spend the night in the bed of a man he'd just met. But Harry had rolled them under the duvet, into the clean sheets and dried them off with several tissues. And Harry had wrapped his arms around him, tucked his head under his chin and kissed his hair.

The last thing Draco remembered seeing before his eyes finally closed and he yielded to his dreams, was the skateboard, propped up next to Harry's wardrobe. He felt free, he felt happy and safe, like nothing could touch him, like he was thirteen again and the world had no hold over him.

Yes, he thought, enveloped in Harry. He was actually very glad he'd bought that stupid skateboard.

The End

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