Walking On Glass ∆ Drarry AU

eighteen ∆ full moon forest

They were nearly halfway through the forest when the sun vanished. The full moon was visible through the trees, and Sir Harry was begining to wonder if they'd ever run into any danger. Not that he wanted it, though.

He was seated, arms wrapped around Draco, on the same peppered white horse from before. Astoria, on her dark horse, led the way. It was difficult to see in the darkness, but Sir Harry thought he saw something move up ahead.

"Hey," he whispered against Draco's neck. "You see that?"

Draco adjusted his posture. "No." He took one hand off of the reins, and placed it on Sir Harry's knee. "I know you mean well, but I'm pretty sure that if no one's put out the fire by now--"

"Look! There it is again!"

Ahead of them, Astoria seemed to take notice, and stalled. She turned back, and whispered, "There's something up ahead. I think it's a wolf."

"A wolf!" exclaimed Sir Harry. "Maybe it's a werewolf."

"They don't look like you think. More like a human-wolf hybrid. Gross," said Draco. "You should get your sword out."

Without question, he did as he was told. He saw Draco slip his wand into his hand, and consciously checked his own forearm holster he'd been given.

"Thanks again for letting me have my sword back, by the way."

"Well, there's no use in keeping it, now, is there?"

Then, a black wolf walked out from behind a large tree, followed by what looked exactly like what Draco had given him in his description of a werewolf.

"Oh... Gods," muttered Sir Harry.

"Indeed," replied Draco, in a single breath. He allowed the horse to move back, as did Astoria with her's.

The wolf seemed to take notice of the group on horses. Then, he turned away to face the werewolf trailing close behind. In a silent moment, words were exchanged between them, before both ran off without a trace.

Sir Harry let out a breath he had been holding in, and replaced his sword. "Are werewolves not hostile? I thought they were hostile."

"Probably took wolfsbane. Makes them aware. Sensible," Draco explained.

"Oh."

The rest of the trip was uneventful. That is, if you ignore Sir Harry resting against Draco, breathing in his scent; Draco's ass bouncing against Sir Harry's crotch, driving him crazier by the second. He tried to be discreet, but it was obvious Draco could feel it.

"Could you... maybe..." He didn't know how to ask what he was asking.

"Hm?" murmured Draco. Sir Harry could hear the devilish smirk in his voice.

"I--" Maybe he shouldn't have said anything. They were almost through the forest, anyway. Still, he couldn't help but move closer.

"Harry." Draco's tone was suddenly serious. "We're on a horse."

Instead of saying something, Sir Harry wrapped his arms tightly around Draco, and continued to breathe in his scent; the sandalwood and sweet vanilla. The lingering stench of alcohol in his sweat. "Mm..."

"Goodness... Harry--" Draco was interrupted by a rough kiss to his neck. "Fuck--"

Draco turned around to face Sir Harry. The horse slowed.

He took one hand off the reins, and placed it upon Sir Harry's cheek. "We can't--"

"Please--"

The rest, after that, was a blur; unspoken words, darting eyes. Draco, pressing his lips to Sir Harry's, before looking ahead, his hand falling to Sir Harry's crotch behind him. And when it seemed like nothing else would come: a spell, in which Sir Harry didn't try to make out.