Remember when I loved you-drarry story

Chapter 5

Forgotten Memory
The Room of Requirement had, once again, assumed the shape of a familiar and cosy bedroom, overflowing with the thick, heady fragrance of earth and warm sunlight and crisply simmering potions. Harry was getting extremely used to this warm, inviting room, becoming intensely attached to all its cracks and crevices, its dents and flaws, and perhaps, that was the only reason why he kept returning here repeatedly.

Whenever he was inside the homely bedroom, he felt as if no one and nothing else existed other than him and Malfoy and this sublime, unacknowledged feeling of bliss and pleasure and contentment. It was intoxicating, and at times, heart-wrenching. Without realizing, he was slowly losing himself, his senses, his very being, in the comfort and warmth of Malfoy's body. Unknowingly, he was falling deeply in love with the softness of his skin, and the quiet little huffs that left his red, supple lips. It was so painfully beautiful that he often found himself holding his breath to hear it.

The strong, floral scent of Malfoy's expensive shampoo, and the tingling effects of the fire whiskey mingled thrillingly to create a sort of heavenly, inebriated haze around Harry, and he felt drugged and captivated at the same time. Everything was vague and obscure, but he distinctly felt the violent pounding of his heart beat, fast and hard. He clearly heard Malfoy's tipsy voice, soft and hushed, and the heavy, laboured breaths that tumbled out of his lips, trickling into his ears like a sweet melody. 

The room, as if smartly understanding its occupants' needs, had dimmed the lights, submerging them into a pleasant darkness. The dancing fire from the fireplace, the sundry colours and the vibrant hues of the flames, embraced Malfoy's pallor beautifully, illuminating his gentle skin, and all his dazzling features and his graceful physique.

Harry was mesmerized, thoroughly and completely. His hands trembled, his throat squeezed, and his heart threatened to split his chest into two, as he hungrily watched Malfoy roll his hips, moving steadily up and down, his slender arms tightly wrapped around Harry's neck. A bright sheen of sweat made his naked body gleam in the fire light. Quiet pants and gasps left his mouth, and Harry's eyes followed his every movement, every breath, as if spellbound.

Letting out a soft moan, Malfoy arched his back, his eyes squeezed shut in pure pleasure, as he lifted his hips and impaled himself on Harry's cock, making Harry let out an unexpected gasp. Malfoy sucked in a helpless breath, tiny tremors running up and down his body, his blond hair sweaty and sticking up in odd angles, his face radiating with bliss.

And Harry ached secretly. He ached deeply and desperately, and he longed for Malfoy, despite Malfoy being right in front of him. He wanted Malfoy more than anything in this world, and he wanted to have the right to call him his and his alone. Yet, he knew Malfoy would never let him — Malfoy could never let him. It pained him horribly to accept that this — this strange relationship — ultimately meant nothing. This was nothing more than a good fuck — he felt that painfully in the pits of his stomach — but he hoped, he yearned, he longed for it to be something more.

"Ah, fuck," Malfoy choked out, and his shaky hands wrapped around Harry's neck tightly as he leaned closer. "Harry, I —"

Harry kissed him, deeply and eagerly, and Malfoy trembled. There was something sparking and sizzling in the air, something thick and electrifying, and it felt as if something between them was glowing brighter than ever, but Harry hardly cared. Nothing mattered to him at that moment, and his mind was floating in a vague mist of pleasure and longing. He pumped Malfoy's cock, and he felt Malfoy shudder and shake, his hands twisting desperately in Harry's hair as he rolled his hips and gasped softly.

"Go ahead, my love," whispered Harry gently, and he hadn't meant to say it, but it came out of his mouth naturally. Malfoy seemed to not have expected it either. He went completely rigid in his arms, his breaths coming out in sharp, shuddering pants.