Harry woke up with three things. A hangover, which was dealt with easily enough (Sobrarium!), a sense of peace he hadn’t felt since his early days of Hogwarts, and a nervous tick of a question prying at the back of his brain... was Draco still there? Has he stayed, or having gotten what he was probably after the whole time slunk out the back door. All Harry had to do was roll over to look, but he felt that too much was riding on the answer for something as simple as that. Way too much. Doitdoitdoitdoitdoitdoitdoitdoitdoitdoit!!! Taking a deep breath, Harry tucked his arm in and rolled over, praying to whatever god was up there that he’d be met with Draco’s icy blue eyes. Instead, there was a blank spot on the floor, the carpet dully indented in the shape of a body that had been laying there. Harry felt as if he’d been hit in the stomach by a sledge hammer, and too his immense surprise he had to close his eyes as they began to sting. Wordlessly, he rolled back over, teeth locked in a tight grimace. “Looking for me?” came a voice, dancing with laughter. Stunned, Harry sat straight up, to see Draco hanging in his door frame by his arms, muscles showing plainly in his bare chest. It was as if an icy hand had been removed from Harry’s throat, and he smiled broadly. “I thought you left,” he said, trying to keep too much emotion from entering his voice. He still had no idea what was really on Draco’s mind and making himself sound like a pathetic little puppy wouldn’t do anything good towards any direction. The playful look fell from Draco’s voice, and he glanced towards the floor for a second. Harry was shocked to see him actually looking a little shamefaced, even though when he looked up a second later any trace of humility was gone. “I almost did,” he said, licking his lips absently. “You know, thought maybe we made a mistake. Then I realized the only real mistake would be leaving.” Harry smiled and pushed up to his feet, unashamed of his nudity. He wasn’t ashamed of anything, and he doubted any shamefulness could pop the bubble that had welled up in his chest. He walked over slowly to Draco and lightly grabbed his chin, pulling him into a passionate kiss that ended up with Draco pushing him back against the wall. The pale man smiled at him, lips only hairbreadths from Harry’s. “How do you feel?” he asked. He got no answer besides another long, drawn out kiss, but in his own head Harry answered. How do I feel, Draco? Alive. ******** Authors Note: W000... that was fun. This story was a joint project by me, Tiger, who did most of the writing. Falcon wrote the first two chapters and some of the entirely non slash related parts. Griffon wrote the NC-17 Chapter with a big old grin on his face. Think we should try something like this again? Then tell us! Reviews, e-mails (littlesgas@pa.net), or IMs (Sniperxx66), all welcome ******** *Editors Note* Yeah, yeah, we did a damn sequel.