When the Snow Melts

But We Have the Same Equipment!

Bedtime was here at last and for once it wasn't nightmares that were making Harry anxious. They had spent a good portion of the day kissing one another and exploring each other rather cautiously with their hands. Should he go back to his dorm room now before things got weird? Or should he stay and find out what would happen? It was the same level of nervousness that he'd experienced with Cho – wondering what he should say, what he should be doing with his hands or his mouth? He hid all this behind a confident smile; worried that Draco would lose interest in him if he knew how insecure he really was.

"I – uh – should..." Harry stuttered, edging towards the window, suddenly finding himself unable to keep up the act any longer.

Grinning, Draco pulled him close, their noses almost touching. "Just where do you think you're going?" he questioned.

"I just thought..."

"You thought wrong," Draco replied, interrupting him as he pulled him in for another dizzying kiss.

Harry melted into Draco's arms, allowing himself to be pulled into bed without protest. Maybe this wasn't like with Cho after all – everything just felt so right...when he wasn't letting himself get too lost in his own thoughts and doubts.

A nervous tremor ran through him as Draco wrapped his arms around his chest, pressing his body close to him, his breath warm on the back of his neck. Draco moaned ever so softly as he shifted against him. Harry's breathing quickened when he felt a hardness pressing against his backside, his own body responding in a similar fashion.

Harry's heart was hammering in his chest, his thoughts racing. Everything was happening too fast. Because of Seamus, he understood the mechanics of it fairly well. But with a boy? How even with a boy? He'd never had cause to give it much thought. He quickly found that he was no longer aroused, but rapidly entering a state of panic as Draco pressed more urgently against him.

"I'm sorry," he sputtered breathlessly. "I'm not ready for this."

With an irritated growl, Draco pulled away from him. Harry spun around to catch the hurt expression on his face before Draco rolled over without a word. He felt a twinge of guilt at having been such a disappointment.

"I want this," he assured him, hoping to make things right between them. "It's just that – what I mean to say is – I honestly have no idea what I'm doing, and it terrifies me," he admitted.

Draco turned around to fix him with piercing silver-grey eyes. "And you think I have any idea either? I was just doing what felt right."

That pang of guilt transformed into a full-blown blow, twisting his stomach into uncomfortable knots – Draco was just as unsure as he was.

"Well aren't we just a pair," Harry remarked nervously. "You'd think since we both have the same equipment that we'd be better at this."

Draco sighed, an uncertain smile tugging at his lips. "Let's just take things slow then – until we have things figured out."

Harry let out a sigh of relief. Slow didn't seem so frightening. He could do slow. He allowed himself to be pulled into another warm embrace; the pressure off now that he knew he wasn't expected to perform.

<<<<<       >>>>>

He kept glancing in Draco's direction during Professor Tonks' lesson, wondering what last night would have been like if he hadn't lost his nerve. Gryffindors were supposed to be brave, but he hadn't felt very brave. What if Draco wasn't actually okay with slow?

Draco caught him staring and smiled, sending his heart into a mad flutter of activity. The rest of the lesson went by without his notice as he kept imagining a tangle of limbs and full pink lips trailing kisses down his body. He was squirming in his seat as a flush of heat flooded his body, painting his cheeks red.