Get Me From My Good Side (A Drarry FanFiction)

Chapter Six

   Harry took in the pictures in the mag with fresh eyes. He saw Draco's eyes lingering on Harry as the makeup artist swept her brush over his cheekbones. Draco biting his lip as he flitted through the clothes ensemble. Draco stroking his brush through Harry's wet hair, his face all consumed with something strong, something tense.

Harry blinked and shook his head. "I don't get it?" he said, too scared to voice his suspicions.

Draco though plonked his mug down again and sat up, so he and Harry were knee to knee. "I know Turpin has me on call as your only stylist, that you won't work with anyone else."

"Because you're the only one to treat me like a real person," Harry replied immediately. "The only one not to take my crap."

"Right," said Draco. "Yeah, no, that's true. But I think it's something else too."

Without warning he reached his hand up and slid it through Harry's hair, thick still with sleep. It was like Harry had no control, his eyes closed and he leaned in to the touch, his lips parting as he exhaled. "I don't think you realise the little noises you make when my fingers are on you."

Harry's brain stuttered, and he forced his eyes open fearfully as Draco retracted. "You relax me, that's...that's your job?"

Draco had something feral in his look though, and he moved closer, forcing Harry to move back into the sofa arm. "I don't get that from anyone else though?" Draco challenged, and Harry's heart crashed against his ribcage in panic. "Just you, these little murmurs and sighs when my hands are in your hair."

It wasn't fair, was Draco just doing this to torment him? He literally didn't know what to do as he stared into those silvery grey eyes that were apparently trying to devour him. Did he still think this was funny? a small, pitiful part of him wondered.

"Close your eyes," Draco whispered. The bright morning sunshine spilling though the windows seemed to undermine the seriousness of the situation, and Harry just shook his head, thinking how he could get his wand in time. What did Draco intend to do to him?

"No," he rasped.

Draco, unnervingly, pressed even closer. "Close your eye Potter. You make the best noises when your eyes are closed."

Harry was a trained Auror, he knew how to assess the situation and take care of himself in almost any given situation. And yet, he found his eyelids dropping down, despite his trembling hands gripping the edges of the sofa.

"I always wondered," Draco said softly, and Harry gasped as he felt fingertips gracing over his knees, up onto his thighs. "What other sounds you might make. If I was allowed to touch other parts of your body?"

Harry wanted to open his eyes, wanted to ask what the hell was going on, but Draco had told him to shut them. So he kept them shut.

"That was a good one," Draco said, running his hands higher, his cool fingers skimming across the gap between Harry's jeans and the jumper he'd hastily thrown on when he'd got out of bed earlier. "How about this one?"

His inched up against Harry's stomach, and Harry twitched, a kind of squeak escaping his lips as Draco caressed up and down his sides. "Ah yes," he purred, "I like that one."

And finally, finally, it hit Harry what was happening.

Draco was seducing him.

He let out a guttural moan he wasn't even ashamed of, and slid a little further down the couch, draping his arm over his eyes to make sure he didn't open them. "Yes," he barely breathed.