A/N- This is a return One-Shot for you, kid. I love you, you're amazing. (Notice the titles? Notice how they're both from beautiful songs? Note how they both feature the word dance?)
FizzingWhizbee; Check her out, and tell her I sent you!
Dance To This Beat
It took me about a second and a half to cross the floor and start fumbling with his tie. “Anxious?” He laughs and tries to help, though the addition of two new hands does more harm than good. I paw his hands out of the way and return to my desperate tugging at the material around his neck. I let out an exasperated sigh and let my hands drop, allowing him to calmly and too-slowly remove his tie. With the knot undone, he drags it slowly out of his collar and lets it drop to the floor. I curse loudly and pounce for him again, looking for his lips and letting my hand find his slick hair. He tuts slightly against my lips at my lack of patience, but who cares? I want him, all of him. I want his lips on mine, his hands on me. Everywhere, anywhere. It's a thrill every single time. He's a thrill. Dirty messages that he throws across classrooms that make my lips tingle. Private little notes that only we would get because he knows it messes with my head and makes my blood boil and makes me want to be near him. To be near him like this. To have my hands on his bare neck and for his hands to not be shoving me away. To feel them creep around to the back of my shirt and over-confidently ease it from my trousers. The way his fingertips move up the narrow hollow of my spine and pull the shirt out in its entirety, not even bothering with the buttons on the front before he tries to pull it over my head. My tie got lost somewhere in the flurry that was me running back from the party and attempting to make the low lighting of the room look more like an enticing and exciting escape that he would never find anywhere else -Not that it mattered, because he had barely stepped in the door when I had occupied his mouth and hopefully his full attention- He lets his lips slip away from mine and along my jaw until they reach the soft skin under my hairline. I shiver and find the buttons on his shirt. Admiring how warm he is against the flat of my stomach. I get frustrated with the difficult buttons and go for the 'Tearing' method. I can always fix it later. The buttons pop one by one, though he doesn't seem to notice or mind as his lips dip further down, to my collarbone and beyond. He moves his hands away and lets the now-pointless shirt slip to the floor behind him. We're suddenly a tangle of arms and bodies again. Skin on bare skin. Him on me. Mine and his. I’m not sure who's warmest now, because the bare skin of his chest pressed against mine is burning. And where he lets his hands rest on my lower back is burning too.
“I never- Never realised,” He breathes into my chest as his warm fingers move up to trace patterns on the skin of my stomach “Never realised how much you actually wanted...I mean, I thought were were just-”
“Shut up.” I whisper and drag his head back up to mine, capturing one more lazy, open-mouthed kiss before I walk us side-ways toward the bed. His hands never leave me, and I never want them too. I lay him down on the bed and straddle his waist, a hushed “You know now.” before I need his lips on mine again.
“How long...” He sighs desperately when I break away to turn my attention to take off more of his clothes than I already have. My hand stills on his belt
“How long what?”
“When did you stop hating me?” He's looking right at me. Right through me. Like this question weighs more than whatever we're about to do. It does, in a way.
“You know when...” I stutter and turn back to his belt, anything to take my eyes off of his. “When boys bully girls because they fancy them?”
“Well...It's something like that.”
And before I can react, his hand is on the back of my head and pulling my face toward him, clashing our mouths together. Our teeth knock, but I’m too busy trying to blindly take off his belt in what should be a natural, easy gesture to notice, and he's too busy with having his belt taken off and making subtle, soft noises into my mouth to even care. The buckle clatters a little and it's finally free, I pull it out in the smoothest motion that I've made all night, his hips raising a little to help it slide out and it soon joins the shirts and the tie in the growing pile on the floor. With much easier access than I had, he has mine undone in a heartbeat, and it gets thrown unceremoniously away, landing on top of his own. Identical in our standard-issue black straps. He groans a little that my touch has stilled on his chest as I look at the beautiful mess our clothes have made on the floor. He grabs my wrist to bring back my attention, and it works fantastically.
I look at him properly for the first time. The way he looks flat on his back, with his hair perfectly messy under his head from where our kisses have made his head move roughly. The way his pallid cheeks have gotten rosy and his eyes are shining. The way he's looking at me like he's looking at all these things too. “You just going to stare?” He snips in his usual manner; short, sharp and so wonderfully perfect. I suddenly realise how out of my depth I am. What do I do next? I had fantasized about this for months, years even. And now I was here, what was I supposed to do next?
His hands moved for me, as one of them moved to my zip and I felt the blood rush to my cheeks in an instant. He popped the button, sitting up slightly to kiss my neck as he yanked the zip down. Not torturing me with any kind of grace or elegance, the situation didn't call for any of that.
“Me neither. Not with a guy.” He stops me short, sparing my embarrassment at my deeply personal admission. But that doesn't stop the sick curiosity building up.
He frowns deeply, and his hand slips one finder into the waistband of my underpants at one hip. “You're sitting in front of me with your trousers open and you want to talk about who else I've slept with?” He's pulling my boxers lower as he speaks, and I’m utterly distracted. Sly move, I’ll give him that. Effective, too. I wonder for a second who he learned that from. I just shake my head and let him continue, not that it takes long before my trousers have slipped down to my knees and my underpants are down past my hips. He half-smiles to reassure me. He slides me backwards off of his waist and pulls his legs away, letting one hand move to my chest and push me backwards onto the bed, while the other goes to his own zip, saving me yet another round of blushes and humiliation. He tugs my trousers off of my knees and tosses them onto the pile. I watch them land, and so does he. We smile together at the irony of it all. At least, that's why I’m smiling. I’m suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to finish off the pile completely. I move my hands to his undone trousers and pull them off. He seems surprised at my sudden urgency, but doesn't complain. And why would he.
It takes one slow second to realise we're both wearing nothing but our underwear any more. And even that seems like too much. I think I frown, because he laughs and kisses me, gently on my cheek, neck, collarbone. “Patience is a virt-”
“I though you could tell I’m more of a Vices kind of person.” I snicker into his ear. I hear him swallow, and the tingle that runs up my spine from the fact that I’m making him nervous is enough for my hands to move on their own, and for his hips to respond as I remove the only thing left covering him. He lays down so quickly that it almost knocks the wind out of me. “Sorry,” he mumbles “It's just...I...”
“I...You make me nervous, Harry.”
I grin so stupidly that it must look like he just clubbed me on the head with a dragon bone. “You've never...I mean...never called me that...” I lean my face up to kiss him, But he moves away and puts his fingertips on my lips.
“...Is that okay?” He whispers. The look of desperation in his eyes melts away anything that would have made it not okay.
“Yeah...Draco.” I smile and kiss his fingers, tasting the word that I could never say but always wanted to. “It's really, really okay.”
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