An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
The_Sinking_Ship @the-sinking-ship
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Characters: Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter, Pansy Parkinson, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley
Additional Tags: Head Auror Harry Potter, Ministry Worker Draco Malfoy, Dom/sub Undertones, Porn With Plot, Rimming, Harry Potter's motorcycle, BAMF Harry Potter, Snarky Draco Malfoy, Powerful Harry, Humor
Harry Potter, how does Draco Malfoy hate thee? Let me count the ways.
“Did you think of me?” Potter asked.
Draco arched a brow, and the sick feeling grew. “I beg your pardon?”
Potter crossed his ankles, then his arms over his chest. “Did you think of me?” he repeated.
“Why on earth would I do a thing like that?”
Potter shrugged. “I thought of you.”
Draco swallowed hard and balled his hands in his lap to keep from fidgeting in an unbecoming way. “Did you?”
“Yep,” Potter said. “Do you want to know what I thought about?”
“I’m not sure that I do,” Draco said truthfully. He could only imagine what Potter would think of him – cleverer ways to murder Draco than poisoned coffee? Annoying him to death, perhaps?
“That’s too bad because I’m going to tell you anyway.” He leaned forward, his forearms on his knees. “I thought about how I think I like you. I think you’re smart, and funny, and bloody gorgeous with your posh suits and that fucking voice , my god. Even though you can be a bit of a dick. But you know what else I think?”
Draco ought to have made some joke about how he wasn’t aware Potter was capable of thought but could only manage a minute shake of his head.
“I think you just talk to me that way because you like me too. In fact, I think you like me quite a lot.”
“That’s preposterous,” Draco scoffed.
“Is it? Because I’ve heard what you say about me behind my back.”
“I hate Harry Potter with his stupid hair and ugly face and terrible clothes. I hate his walk and his laugh and his ridiculous motorbike. And you know, I think you like those things.”
“And how do you figure that, Potter?” Draco said with a smirk because Potter was about to utterly embarrass himself. He thought he’d figured Draco out and he was so terribly wrong . God, it was almost difficult to watch him fall all over himself that way.
“Because I’ve never seen anyone look at me the way you do.”
Draco froze. What was Potter prattling on about? He didn’t look at him in any sort of way, did he? He’d certainly glared at Potter on occasion, particularly when Potter was doing something obnoxious like strutting around in his uniform, or laughing too loud, or casting without a wand or a word.
“I don’t look at you,” Draco said. It was meant to sound haughty but it came out too damned small, petulant. Draco cursed inwardly.
“Hm. Well,” Potter said and got up from his chair. Draco expected him to leave, wanted him to leave. But Potter didn’t leave. He walked right up to Draco and placed one hand on either side of the back of his chair and leaned in. He put his face right in Draco’s, practically nose to nose, until Draco could see the flecks of gold in the emerald irises of his eyes. “I’m going to try and kiss you. Please don’t punch me in the face.”
Draco sucked in a breath, alarmed. “You’re going to do what?!”
“You can say no, but if you punch me, I’m going to have to hex you.”
“Honestly, Potter, I’m not so foolish as to think I could get away with slugging the Head Auror, else I probably would have done it ages ago.”
Potter smiled, the lopsided one with the crooked tooth, and grabbed Draco firmly by the chin. Draco stopped breathing.
It was rather unusual, as far as first kisses go, in that it wasn’t chaste at all. There was no period of awkward adjustment where Draco would be conscious that yes, someone else’s mouth was touching his and it was strange and new, but okay. This wasn’t that at all. Potter held Draco in place with his hand along Draco’s jaw, then tilted his head, parted Draco’s lips with his own, and stuck his tongue right into Draco’s mouth. Just like that! There was no hesitation, just the confident breaching of Draco’s lips and they were bloody snogging.
Harry Potter kissed like…well…exactly like one would imagine Harry Potter would kiss (not Draco though, he’d never imagined so preposterous a scenario as this). It was confident and bold and more than a little arrogant. Draco shouldn’t have kissed back; it would have served Potter right. But Potter tasted minty and he smelled rather nice up close and though Draco was loathed to admit it, he was rather good at this kissing business, causing heat to pool in Draco’s gut with just the brush of his tongue.
And then Potter was pulling back, and Draco managed valiantly not to chase after him. When Draco opened his eyes, Potter was smiling.
“Now, see? That wasn’t so bad was it?” he said.
Draco blinked rapidly. He cleared his throat. He crossed his legs. “I’ve had worse.”
