I Love Your Way

Harry x Draco, G
Summary: Draco's obsession.
Notes: My take on writing about a moment.

~*~*~

Maybe it�s just the way you tend to kiss your spoon before you fully take it in your mouth. Your lips pucker slightly, almost coyly, as if you want to lengthen the suspense before you give in to the taste. And taste you certainly do. I see your eyes close, slowly, your lips quivering so very faintly with pleasure that no one but me could�ve noticed it. Why me? Because I see you. I see you often.

It�s torture when you eat. I could hardly keep myself from watching your obvious delight in that simple action of survival. You have made it an art�a classical movement of grace that I would like to keep bottled forever if I could. If time was a possession, my room would be full of you: thousands of tiny bottles of �Harry� occupying the walls so I may take each one and devour the scenes with my eyes, reliving each flick of your hand and filling my mind with your spirit.

A �You� library! How quaint!

I have spent hours staring at you: memorizing the number of lines on your forehead when you frown, counting the tiny hairs on your brows� And often, I do this with my eyes closed. For you never let me watch you for long.

I watch you in class a lot, always behind you. You would slouch on your chair, never really paying attention to what the discussion is about. Sometimes, you�d even sleep. Discreetly, of course. Your limbs are long, but a little too thin. Your legs would stretch beyond the confines of the space beneath the desk, so you�d place your feet on the aisle, your foot sneaking up on your seatmate�s bag. You do this unconsciously, like habit, not knowing how I cherish each movement as I worship the flare of your robes around your slender legs.

I try to imagine how you�d look while sleeping: sprawled on your bed, your foot hanging off the edge of the mattress. Your hair would probably be messier than usual, framing the peaceful face I adore.

The scar shining on your forehead, marking the smooth surface of your face.

Your flaws have become my temple.

(end)

Harry x Draco, G
Summary: Draco had a few things to think about.
Notes: Post-OotP drabble. Written in five minutes. For Aja.

~*~*~

He felt a little... unsettled.

Draco stared at the silver badge on the table. It glinted in the sunlight that seeped through the dusty windows of the library.

He was more than a little disappointed. He should have known that it wouldn't last long. The Slytherins' stint with Umbridge had been fun, but like all good things, it ended too soon.

He tossed the silver "I" on the floor. It was useless now, much like Umbridge.

But he really wasn't thinking of Umbridge.

Rather, he was meditating about a certain something on the table--a few inches from where the badge previously lay.

Draco fingered the silky white petals as he wondered.

Was he really awake? Or was this all a bad, confusing, joke of a dream? Because if he wasn't sleeping, then why the hell would Harry Potter send him roses?

(end)

Softer

Harry x Draco, NC-17, Romance (I suppose)
Summary: Harry, Draco, an armchair, and ropes.
A/N: Because I've never done an honest-to-goodness armchair fic, here's a drabble.

~*~*~

Harry moaned. He was in pain, really in pain, and it took a lot of willpower not to open his eyes and beg Draco to release him. Instead he kept his eyes shut and told himself to wait. Oh, yes, wait... for wasn't it better to savor the hunger?

He was tied to the chair, his hands and feet immobile. His naked body was exposed, and the breeze from the open windows over his skin drove him mad--mad with lust, want, and anticipation. The soft feel of the chair didn't help, and he only found himself moving his hips ever so slightly over the fabric, enjoying the light friction that it brought.

There were no kisses, or even the gentle touches that they usually gave each other. There was just the slow, hard feel of Draco's body--over him, around him--and the sound of their joy.

(end)