Chapter Seven

                                    

                                          
                    
                          
   Harry wakes.  
                          
   Draco is poking him.  "Harry," he whispers.  "Harry are you asleep?"
                          
   "Mmmm," he whines.  "Yes I am."
                          
   Draco though pulls out the big guns and starts tickling Harry's ribs, making him snap awake as he jerks away with a very manly shriek.  "Oh good, you are!" Draco exclaims. 
                          
   Harry picks up his pillow and thumps Draco with it, but that just eggs him on, and he fights back, trying to tickle Harry again, rolling them around their bed.  
                          
   And it is their bed.  Upon coming back from the Easter holidays, Draco announced, as he was want to do, that he was tired of traipsing between their two rooms (at opposite ends of the boys dormitories, naturally) and that Harry should just move in with him, because Draco had the better room and more stuff.  Harry had protested their rooms were exactly the same sizes and he had just as much stuff as him, but Draco had pouted, and then bribed him with a spectacular blow job, and within the hour Harry's room had been stripped and unpacked back into Draco's room.  
                          
   Harry had complained, loudly, but he loved that Draco wanted to organise their wardrobe together, and that he proudly put Harry's toothbrush in the holder by his own.  There is now photos of them stuck to the wall, and all their books and coursework are arranged side by side on the desk in the corner.  
                          
   It's the middle of the night though now, and they've got lessons first thing.  After all he's lived through Harry can't really muster the energy to truly worry about his exams – he's got a job waiting for him in the Auror's office when he leaves no matter what he gets.  But he likes the idea of achieving good grades after everything, he feels like it's respectful to his teachers for putting up with all the craziness he's brought down on them over the years.  
                          
   "Dra-co," he grumbles, pinning him down.  "I actually was asleep," he chides him, kissing up the scar on his chest.  It should really be a sore spot for them, a bad memory of when Harry almost accidently killed Draco, but in fact it's his favourite part of him. To Harry, it will link them always; two lost boys at one of their lowest points.  He loves the scar, because it represents how far they've come.  
                          
   "Why did you so rudely wake me up?" he asks as he reaches the top, then starts nibbling along his collar bones.  
                          
   "This is why," Draco says, rubbing his body against Harry's.  "This is our first room together, and as of tomorrow there's not going to be much chance for fun until exams are done.  So I wanted some fun now, I wanted to celebrate."
                          
   The look in his eye is downright criminal, and Harry smoulders under his gaze.  "What did you have in mind?"  
                          
   They're only wearing boxers as is usual, but Harry still shivers as Draco runs his hands over Harry's arse.  He can never get enough of Harry's backside, he's always stroking it when they're cuddled up together and smacking it as he walks passed, catching Harry off guard.  But this...there's something different about this touch, something urgent.  "Can we try something new?" he asks, and although he's being playful, he's also a bit nervous.
                          
   Harry immediately wants to alleviate his worries.  "Of course," he says, kissing along his jaw and running his fingers through his hair.  "Anything, I trust you."
                          
   "It's just," says Draco, testing the waters.  "You know, there's more we could be doing."  He caresses Harry's arse again, and kisses him.  It seems to be a good way to avoid talking.  But Harry likes where this is going, so he pushes it.  
                          
   "More fucking?"
                          
   "Language Potter!" Draco pretends to chastise, predictably giving his arse a smack, before moving in for more kissing.  Oh yes, definitely stalling.  But Harry is patient, and waits for him to break away and talk again.  This takes a couple of attempts and some lip biting, before Draco finally opens up again.  "You know what I mean?"