At first Harry simply lost himself in the kiss, and where he was, who it was with, and why he was doing it, all blanked out of his mind. Then it came to him in a rush of images, that this was Draco Malfoy, his boyhood rival, a traitor to a cause- even though the cause had been horrible, and someone who had murdered his own parents. And then he realized he didn’t care. It was a warm, hard body, and it desired him as much as he desired it. That was all that mattered. In a flurry of clawing hands and ducking heads he managed to get his cloak and shirt off before Draco was pinning him again, taking kiss after kiss from his lips. With an almost desperate, animal moan, Harry wrapped his arms around Draco’s shoulders to pull him closer in, and at the same time balled up the other man’s shirt in his hands and ripped it up over his head. Bare skin was on bare skin now, and the heat that was beginning to build was incredible. As result of a simple shift of weight Draco suddenly found himself on his back, and with a hard pull got Harry on top of him. All that mattered was the contact, the heat, the passion. It didn’t matter that this was Harry Potter, the boy who had driven him to murdering his own family and fleeing to the side of Dumbledore’s weaklings. It didn’t matter that if not for Harry Potter he’d be one of the highest agents in a crusade that was about to rule the world. It mattered how good his lips, his tongue tasted, and the feeling of his hair clenched tightly in Draco’s fist. It took a while, thanks to a magnetic urge to have contact and not put any air between skin, not to leave any inch of lips uncovered, not to untangle legs, but they managed to undress completely amidst their near frantic passions. Nothing felt wrong, nothing felt off, and they seemed to communicate mentally as Draco caught both of Harry’s wrists and pulled him down to the floor. Not wanting any unnecessary second to pass, Harry grinded his hips back against Draco’s waist and pulled his arm forward so his back was pressing hard against Draco’s chest. There was a pause as Draco clumsily, but no longer drunkenly- it was if the alcohol had left their systems in flashes of kissed- pressed his erect self slowly into Harry, entering him with moaning thrusts that occurred in synch with over the shoulder kisses. Harry felt his world fall away, all of the years of the war and since then seemed to evaporate as pleasure coursed through his body and eradicated all the loneliness and the pain. He didn’t need alcohol to get better, he didn’t need his solitude, he needed THIS. He needed Draco, by his side, inside him, nibbling on his neck and slowly pumping his pain away, fucking his pain away. There was no alternative, no substitute, no other person that could do it. And with that revelation he came harder then he even had before in his life, moaning wordlessly into the pale lips of the man who joined him in his orgasm. **** Authors Note: Oh I’m not done yet. There’s more. ****