Draco awoke slowly, feeling warm and comfortable. His grey-blue eyes fluttered open and he took careful stock of his surroundings; he was pressed into a muscled, obviously masculine chest, several round objects that he identified as buttons dug into his back, and the soft flutter of even breathing warmed his neck. Draco forced his breathing to remain even and tried to remember the events of the night before and who he was in bed with. He came up with a null, beginning to panic as the warm body behind him stirred, making soft smacking sounds as he awoke, arms flexing around the young Malfoy.
"Morning..." he muttered huskily, his voice heavy with sleep. Draco abruptly remembered where he was and relaxed slightly.
"Get the hell off me, Potter," he hissed sharply. Harry grunted groggily and pulled Draco closer, one leg swinging over the other boy's hips.
/He's not awake yet.../ Draco realized. He got the sudden urge to press into Harry's groin to see if the other teen was sporting a morning erection, as his own was beginning to take a sort of sick interest in the strong leg pinning him to the bed. However, he thought the better of exploration and mustered his best Malfoy tone.
"Potter!" he snapped loudly. Harry woke with a start, his arms instinctively tightening around the body pressed against him.
"What?!"
"Get off me..." Draco told him dangerously. Harry looked at him in confusion for a moment, trying to decided *why* Draco *Malfoy* was in *his* bed.
"What are you...?"
"Get off me!" Draco demanded, pinching Harry's arm sharply. Harry growled and abruptly pushed Draco off the bed.
"Good morning to you too," he said contemptuously, before pulling a pillow to his chest and turning to the wall.
"Aren't you going to get up?" Draco asked after recovering from his shock and pulling himself off the floor.
"Why bother?" Harry asked through a yawn. Draco glared at him. "Do push-ups," Harry suggested finally, half asleep again.
"Push-ups?" Draco sneered.
"You don't know what a push-up is?" Draco glared at him, crossing his arms over his chest. "Are you serious?" Harry asked, turning over and looking him over. Draco's glare deepened. "Alright, watch," Harry muttered getting off the bed. Draco stood slowly and raised one eyebrow quizzically. Harry just looked at him expectantly. When it was obvious that Draco didn't know what Harry wanted, the Gryffindor pushed him onto the bed and stretched, yawning largely.
"That looks like an ape stretch to me..." Draco started. Harry snapped at him to shut up. "Make. Me," Draco shot back. Harry's jaw tensed.
"It's too bloody...early..." Harry complained, lowering himself to the floor and stretching out in a perfect push-up position, his feet together and arms extended, his back straight, and looking straight forward. "Now, watch." Harry lowered himself until his chin touched the old wooden floor, then pushed himself back up again. He did five in quick succession before bringing his knees up to his chest in a slight bounce and standing.
"Why the hell would I do that?" Draco asked, his face twisted in disgust.
"Because it expends energy, and it builds muscle and stamina. You obviously have very little of both..." Draco snorted.
"As if you're doing much better..." He knew he was no body builder; but neither was Potter. Or so he thought. Harry snorted and abruptly stripping his shirt to reveal a well muscled chest and abdomen. Draco noticed that his arms and shoulders were finely toned as well. In short, his upper body, at least, was nearly worthy of a Greek statue. Draco was clearly astonished, but schooled his expression before Harry had turned back to face him him.
"Now, if you aren't going to get some more sleep, get out of the bed and do something useful." Draco dropped to the floor.
"How hard can it be if Potter can do it?" he said out loud as though he were talking to himself. Harry snorted again and yawned.
"Have fun," he said simply, falling back on to the bed and drifting off to sleep quickly. Draco watched him for a minute, admittedly in awe of his rival.
After several minutes of just sitting on the floor, his legs clutched to his chest in a habitually protective embrace, Draco slowly uncurled and turned on to his stomach, his arms cocked at the elbow. He imitated Potter's motion and found that it was surprisingly easy - the first few times anyway. After about ten push-ups, his arms began to burn and at twenty-five he honestly thought that they might detach at the shoulders.
/This is bloody harder than it looks...Merlin, Potter made it look so easy!/ Draco complained to himself, sitting back on his hunches and messaging his arms. He looked at the teen on the bed contemptuously to find Harry smiling wolfishly at him.
"Not as easy or painless as the magical version is it?" he asked, retrieving his glasses. Draco reluctantly shook his head; the spell version was mostly painless; you cast the spell before you went to bed and it worked to contract your muscles while you slept. You woke up faintly sore, but it faded with a simple numbing charm or potion. "Works better though," Harry commented, his tone calm and almost friendly.
"Why do you do them?"
"As I said - it expends energy, and it builds muscle and stamina. Plus, it's something to do," Harry told him over one shoulder as he crawled into the bathroom. Draco sat cross-legged and glared at the hole while he nursed his arms for a minute.
"Don't worry; you'll get used to it. Five of those works your body more than an entire night with the charm," Harry informed him amiably, fixing two cups of instant coffee. Draco turned his nose up to it, but took it once Harry added a sweetener.
"Are you always this agreeable in the mornings?" he asked finally, wincing at the liquid's bitter taste. He had *never* liked coffee. Tea suited him just fine. Yet Harry seemed used to it and gulped down the lukewarm liquid in a few swallows.
"Actually, no. I'm generally only in this good a mood when I've had a really...satisfying night." Draco snorted.
"Yeah, sure."
"Don't believe me?"
"As if I could believe the Gryffindor Golden Boy is anything but a pure, untainted virgin."
/Like I wish I was...you don't know what you have, Potter. Hold on to that,/ Draco finished mentally, barely repressing a sigh.
"You might be surprised what the Gryffindor Golden Boy is capable of, Malfoy," Harry told him, his good mood evaporated. Ignoring Draco, he fed his owl, making a snapping noise at Hawk when the owl tried to bite him. Draco watched him curiously as he pet his Hedwig gently, his expression completely shut; when had he learned to do that? Draco could always remember teasing Harry that he couldn't hide his emotions if his life depended upon it.
/Apparently not anymore,/ Draco decided finally, leaning against the bed, his arms poised carelessly over his knees, watching Harry ignore him. Apparently putting Draco well out of his mind, Harry rifled through his trunk and located what looked like a sketch pad before putting his back to his trunk and balancing the pad against his knees. Draco sighed quietly; it was definitely going to be a long summer.