𝗦𝗧𝗢𝗟𝗘𝗡. √

"I did warn you."

He was laying on his bed, fiddling with the hem of Malfoy's jumper

At ten to twelve Harry had walked tiredly up to his room, slightly nervous about his choice to disobey Draco. But what could he actually do? Harry's door was locked. That would stop him, right?

It was twenty past twelve when there was a click and the door opened. Harry got up and walked over to Malfoy. "How did you..." he changed track in an attempt to not sound too pathetic, "I told you, I'm not giving it back, Malfoy."

Harry looked down at the jumper but snapped his head back up as hands pushed and trapped him against the wall. "And I told you, Potter," Malfoy leant in close, "That I'll just take it back myself."

Harry gasped as Malfoy moved against him, lips hitting his own.

It wasn't like the soft kisses he'd had before, but hard and passionate. Harry knew the last thing he should be doing was kissing back, yet he did all the same. His fingers trailed over Draco's shirt, Malfoy's hands in his hair.

Draco moved his kisses across Harry's jaw and onto Harry's neck. Harry let out a soft moan as Draco sucked gently on his skin, causing the blond boy to press Harry harder against the wall.

Draco moved his head away from Harry's neck and levelled his eyes with Harry's. Harry let out a shaky breath as Malfoy reached down and lifted the jumper a little. He cast a questioning glance at Harry, but Harry nodded and moved Draco's hand up higher. "Tell me if you want me to stop," Draco said, voice as soft as a whisper.

Carefully and quickly he pulled the jumper over Harry's head and dropped it onto the floor next to them. Draco moved closer and kissed him hard again. Harry moved his hands to Draco's tie and undid some of Malfoys buttons.

This time when he pulled away, Draco noticed a slightly dejected look on Harry's face. Although, he might have been imagining it (too distracted by the purple blotches that covered Harry's upper chest and neck)

In a second, Draco had done back up his shirt and scooped his jumper up from the floor. "Better not find that anything else of mine has disappeared, Potter. Or you might end up needing some turtle-necks yourself." He glanced at Harry's neck and smirked.

As he made his way towards the door, Harry who up until this moment had been trying to get his breathing back to an unconcerned rate, finally found his voice. "You're just going to leave?" The words came out slightly disappointed with a tint of confusion.

"I did warn you," Draco held up the crumpled jumper. "Plus, I've got what I wanted." He cast one more glance at the shirtless boy in front of him, winked at Harry and disappeared back behind the door.

So did he kiss me just for the jumper? What did he mean 'I've got what I wanted? Surely he meant the jumper. Why am I overthinking this? Merlin. Am I even gay? I must be because, wow. But Malfoy wouldn't kiss you like that if he felt nothing. But then again, Draco sure does love his clothes.

Draco...

I hate him.

I should hate him.

So why did I enjoy that kiss too much?

Placing his head in his hands he sank down the wall and onto the floor, only to catch a glimpse of his hickey covered self in the opposite mirror.

That's going to be hard to cover up.

Fuck's sake, Malfoy.