The Astronomy TowerMature

Because everything happens at the Astronomy Tower... [Harry/Draco slash, Humor but only slightly, lemon] Please, proceed with caution is none of the above agree with you.

The Astronomy Tower

“Draco, why are we here? You know the rumors about this place.”

Draco raised a slender eyebrow. “That is we’re here.”

“Draco!” Harry hissed.

“I can only tell the truth.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Why are we here, Draco?” he repeated.

“Would you believe me if I told you that despite the horrible rumors, the Astronomy Tower is actually able to live up to its name? Oh, goody, the large telescope!” the blond exclaimed suddenly. “Harry, if you point this thing directly up, they say you can use it as a dance pole!” Draco regarded Harry’s blushing face before barking, “Harry! Strip down to you essentials and dance for me!”

“You wish,” was Harry’s only response.

“Now that you point that out…” Draco trailed off gently, a wicked smile on his face. And Harry stood there for a while, trying to see how long the Malfoy would pretend to fantasize about him (assuming that he was pretending, of course), when he happened to glance down at the Marauder’s Map.

“Draco!” Harry said suddenly, looking at the map just to make sure. “Filch is on his way up!”

“Oh, bloody hell,” Draco said. “What is he doing up here at this time of night?” Harry looked at him as if he was stupid. Draco looked back in disgust. “Of all the—Harry, no one would ever want—”

“Watch duty?” Harry interrupted, before the image of what Draco was implying reached his brain.

“Oh, right. Yes…I hope he doesn’t catch Blaise…”

Harry gave the blond a confused look. “Blaise?”

“You know,” Draco said offhandedly. “For the threesome?”

Harry blushed again, then whispered urgently, “I’m serious, Draco, he’s coming!”

Draco gave him a look that said, I would so be making a joke from that if we weren’t in danger right now, and nearly pushed Harry aside completely as he hid under the Invisibility Cloak. Harry followed, glaring at the Slytherin. “What?” Draco said. “I am a Malfoy. It was instinct to cover for myself first and worry about you later.”

“Shh!” Harry hissed. The tow of them backed into the shadows as they heard a soft mew. Ms. Norris, followed by Filch.

“Damn bloody children,” the Squib murmured. “Stealing, pranks, sneakin’ out at night…I wish Umbridge was back, so I could chain ‘em up like I always wanted. So close to passing that decree…”

It was at that moment that Harry nearly jumped, feeling Draco’s tongue along his neck. He wanted to turn, to see what the hell the blond was doing, but didn’t want to risk getting caught. Draco…what in the nine hells are you doing? But it became very apparent what Draco was doing, when Harry, using a large amount of his self-control, stifled a groan as he tried his damn hardest not to turn in Draco’s direction.

Moments later, Harry could see that Filch was so close to leaving, and that he himself was just about to let go of his abstinence to Draco when Ms. Norris paused at the door as they left, and Filch looked directly at them. Harry held his breath, and even Draco faltered—halting his tantalizing movements for the fleeting second it took for him to decide that they wouldn’t be caught—before returning to his task of seeing how long Harry would last against his sensual charm. Before leaving, Filch said as if he knew they were there, “maybe you’ve hidden yourselves this time, but I’ll be back tomorrow, and the next day, and the next, until I find would where you’re hidin’.” Harry caught himself before he laughed. That time, it was meant for Filch.

Somehow, Harry managed to elude the urge to moan until after the Marauder’s Map showed Filch out of ear shot. Then he jerked himself away from Draco, taking the Invisibility Cloak from over their heads. “What the hell did you think you were doing? We could’ve gotten caught, Draco!”

Draco smiled. “We weren’t.”

“But there was a bloody good chance—”

“We weren’t,” Draco repeated. “ I knew we wouldn’t be. I knew you wouldn’t let us. Stop being so paranoid.”

Harry sighed, folding the invisible cloth in his hands and placing the map atop it. “Draco…” he put the items on the floor.

The boy in question came up behind Harry, slipping his arms around the brunette’s waist. “I knew I’d get you to say my name sooner or later.” Draco said, beginning to rock slightly. “You say it so nicely.”

Harry sighed again, “Don’t think flattery’s always going to work with me.”

Draco’s smile remained. “Isn’t it working now?” Harry blushed. And said nothing. It was all the answer Draco needed. “Not even the Famous Boy Who Lived. Can resist the Malfoy Charm.”

Harry leaned back again Draco’s shoulder, quietly loving the way the blond’s fingers brushed against his sides. “Draco…” he whispered quietly.

“Yes…?” Draco replied, smiling slightly as his lips grazed Harry’s neck.

“Draco,” Harry continued, exhaling loudly. “Do you think…that we could…stay this way for a while?”

A malicious smile appeared on Draco’s face before he let go of Harry. “Of course not!” he said haughtily. “I’m not going to let my bones get horribly stiff because you want to be held!”

Harry pretended to pout. “You’re so mean. And to think I let you talk me into sneaking out with you…”

“Well, I thought I would be getting something out of it,” Draco said, malicious smile still there to let Harry know he was joking. “And you still haven’t danced for me…”

“Draco.”

“I mean it,” Draco said, smile gone. “I want to be the only one who’s seen the sexy side of the Boy Who Lived. Don’t you think I deserve that?”

“No.”

“Hmm…perhaps not. But you’ll do it anyway?”

“Hmm…” Harry copied Draco’s reaction, posing as if in actual thought. Then he looked at Draco seriously. “Okay.” He said slowly.

“Excuse me?”

Harry took a step towards Draco, bringing himself close enough to encircle his arms around Draco’s neck. This time, the brunette was the one wearing the mischievous smile. “Not used to people giving you what you want, eh, Draco?” Harry said in a tone the sent shivers up the other’s spine.

Draco smirked. “A Malfoy always gets what he wants.”

Harry leaned forward, his lips brushing Draco’s as he spoke. “And what exactly do you want right now, Draco?”

A small chuckle sounded as the Slytherin gave the expected response. “You, of course.”

Harry’s cheeks tinged slightly pink before Draco captured the green-eyed boy’s lips in a passionate kiss. The blond wasted no time in pulling Harry closer to him, his tongue demanding to be let into Harry’s mouth. The Gryffindor obliged without a second though, barely noticing that Draco was backing him into the nearest wall until he felt the bricks pushing against him. Draco seemed intent on ravaging the other’s lips, leaving them bruised and wanting more as the grey-eyed teen began to move along to Harry’s neck. The brunette let out a small groan as Draco’s lips detached themselves in from his own, his fingers unconsciously busying themselves in Draco’s hair.

“Harry…” the name was barely audible when it escaped from Draco’s lips, and the one being called barely registered it before his lips were taken again. Harry responded by pulling the blond closer to him, crating that beautiful friction that reminded Harry just how much he wanted to touch Draco, just how much they belonged together.

Draco set himself to the task of removing Harry’s robe, and stray fingers brushed against the latter’s stiffening manhood, eliciting a deep guttural groan that was music to Draco’s ears. As Harry three his own robe aside to someplace he sure as hell didn’t care about, he relished the feeling of Draco’s pale fingers under his shirt, unbuttoning his blouse as the blond’s hands found their way up to his chin, pulling him closer and deepening the kiss. And somehow, the pureblood haphazardly shrugged off his robe as well. As the Gryffindor allowed his shirt to be added to the growing pile of clothes, Draco gently slid their bodies down to the floor, leading Harry to lay on the floor beneath him. Had Harry’s brain not had been so clouded with his lust for Draco, he probably would have objected. But with Draco’s soft touches, both with finger and tongue, he was glad he could even move with the sensations that trickled down his spine.

That was when Draco discarded his glasses, throwing them in a random direction as he peppered kisses up and down Harry’s jaw. There was a resounding crack, enough to jar Harry into active consciousness for the moment it took to give Draco an expression that asked what the hell that was. Draco replied to unasked question under his breath. “Later,” and once again reminded Harry that nothing was as important as the moment they were in, and Harry’s curiosity at the sound faded as Draco’s lips began trailing themselves down his chest. Harry bit his lips to suppress another groan as he felt Draco’s tongue slither around his navel and suddenly plunge into it, releasing the held sound from Harry’s throat.

And Harry found himself needing to touch Draco’s to pull the other closer, to let himself know that it wasn’t a heavenly dream that he would hellishly awake from. The need Draco, he loved Draco, was a part of Draco; He wanted Draco—

And his hands were thwarted by a shirt.

What?…Hell. The half pondered thought ran through his mind. Harry began to mindlessly pull at the other’s shirt, willing to remove it at all possible cost. He was vaguely away of Draco somewhere pulling off his jeans, but—dammit—he had to get rid of that shirt. And Draco being at his waist wasn’t doing the best for him. With more force than he actually wanted to use, Harry gripped silky blond hair and pulled up, up until Draco’s lips were covering his own again and he could deal with that shirt. Moments later, it too was tossed to the side.

Draco had noticed his partner’s impatience, and removed whatever garments were left on them both. He moved fairly quickly, purposefully planting kisses along Harry’s thighs. Harry instinctively bucked in response to the activity so close to his erection, and Draco pushed the brunette’s hips down. Harry’s own hands made their way to Draco’s length, caressing roughly to send the blond a message: Hurry up. As Draco paused to let out a soft moan, Harry managed to pull the Slytherin’s lips to his yet again to make sure it got through.

After thoroughly ravishing Harry’s mouth, Draco returned to Harry’s waist, tracing the path of kisses he had previously made with this tongue. That time, though, as Harry’s hips rose again, the Gryffindor let out a sort of choked cry to made Draco silence him with another kiss. Position a knee between Harry’s legs, Draco decided that the other was ready, sliding a finger into the brunette’s entrance. Harry shifted uncomfortably with the second finger Draco added, but adjusted to the third as Draco began exploring him. Not long after, the blond’s finger found Harry’s sensitive spot, the place that made Harry see white as his hips rose again and forcing Draco to muffle another cry. Changing positions for a second time, Draco did not remove his lips from Harry’s as he entered, and Harry shut his eyes as the pain-not-pain of Draco inside him invaded his body. Bloody hell. That was the reason he’d never been intimate with anyone—not that he’d told Draco. A whimper escaped his lips, and Draco didn’t notice; Harry was beginning to have second thoughts about what he was doing, the pain chasing the pleasure he had previously felt from his mind. There was no word Harry could think of to describe that pain.

But soon, the pain was replaced with inexplicable pleasure as the tow found their rhythm. The horrid pain gave way to an equally indescribable heavenly feeling as Harry’s hips met Draco’s own, both Gryffindor and Slytherin falling to the desire, to the feeling of making love to each other. Harry was going on pure instinct, but that was enough; there was nothing else besides themselves, and the ecstasy that overtook them when they were together.

Both their bodies covered in seat, each had to work harder to maintain their wonderful friction, and Draco pushed himself harder, faster, into Harry, hitting that beautiful, place that blinded the slighter's vision and ripped his lovers name from his lips. On some level of sub-consciousness, Draco was thankful that Filch had closed the door behind him for a fleeting second before the thought was overridden by his overdose of Harry. The pair were addicted to each other, neither willing to let go until the last second. Draco felt himself on the edge and hit Harry his hardest before he released, kissing the brunette passionately to try to muffle the last, final repetition of his name. Harry himself came soon after, and then he was vaguely aware of Draco’s head lying against his chest.

“Draco…” the Gryffindor whispered, just for good measure, just to make sure that it was all real, that he hadn’t imagined that bliss, for he was convinced that it had never existed until he met Draco.

Draco, whose mind was still on its fill of Harry, answered, “Yes…?” in an exhausted, sexy hiss that sent shivers up Harry’s spine as the blond’s lips moved against the other’s skin.

And nothing more was spoken until the mist had faded from their thoughts, until they had both caught their breaths and were a bit more aware of their surroundings. Neither had moved, Draco secretly enjoying the way that Harry had begun playing with his hair, though he’d never admit it and would probably scold him for it later.

Harry’s first processed thought was about where the hell his glasses were, but he wouldn’t let Draco know that, and instead voiced the second thought to enter his mind. “Draco?” he asked hesitantly, “Th—”

“I know,” Draco said in his usual haughty, slightly arrogant tone. “I’m the best you’ve ever had, aren’t I? With you ring of friends, I’m not surprised.”

Harry frowned slightly, then blushed as he remarked, as though it didn’t matter, “that might be true, it you weren’t…”

Draco’s head jerked itself from Harry’s stomach. “Excuse me?” the Slytherin said, some actual concern penetrating his voice. “Wait. Harry…” All the brunette offered was an apologetic smile and a nod of his head. Draco felt as if he would pass out from shock. Or exhaustion. Or both. “Oh, of all the—Harry, why didn’t you say anything, you bullock!”

“Why? Would it have made a difference?”

Draco sighed. The thought of causing Harry any pain—

“No,” he said to Harry quietly, kissing him tenderly before resting his head on the brunette’s chest again. “No, Harry.”

Sensing the change in Draco’s mood, Harry said nothing until the next though struck him, several minutes later. “Was I…any good?”

Draco didn’t move, but laughed. "Merlins yes! I've never seen someone try so hard to remove a shirt in my life!"

Harry blushed. "Leave me alone, Draco."

Draco's laughter subsided, and after thinking for a second, his laced his fingers with Harry's. “Will you dance for me on the telescope now?”

Harry looked at Draco as though he were crazy.

“What? I did all the stripping for you. All you have to do is dance!”

Harry shook his head and tried to change the subject; somewhere in the back of his mind, he actually considering it. “Where are my glasses, Draco?”

A pause. “I don’t know,” Draco said thoughtfully. “But I think I broke them.”

“You what?” Maybe he should have just danced.

“Shh. Stop being so loud.” Draco kissed Harry’s jaw. “I’ll fix them later.”

“Only if you kiss me again.” Harry said after a careful pause.

Draco was happy to oblige.

The End

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