The Re-Sorting [Drarry, TW SMUT]

Fuck.

1st POV – Harry
TW SMUT

Draco’s breathing was uneven. Mine wasn’t any better. 

We stood there, caught in this unbearable limbo, the space between us charged and fragile. I should have moved first, should have taken a step back—should have done something to break the moment before it swallowed me whole. 

But Draco beat me to it. 

His fingers ghosted over my wrist, barely a touch, but it sent something sharp and electric through me. My whole body went rigid, my breath catching in my throat. He wasn’t even doing anything, but it felt like everything. 

I should walk away. I should. Should. Should. Should. 

Instead, I tightened my grip around his wrist, my thumb pressing lightly against the inside of it, feeling the steady thrum of his pulse. It was fast. Too fast. 

“Harry,” Draco whispered. 

I closed my eyes. 

Fuck. 

The sound of my name in his voice did something to me—something terrifying, something that made my chest ache and my skin burn and my whole body feel like it was coming undone at the seams. 

I opened my eyes. Met his gaze. 

And then— 

I kissed him.

It wasn’t planned. It wasn’t careful. I was so damn desperate. My lips crashed against his like I needed him to breathe, like stopping wasn’t an option. 

Draco made a sound—soft, surprised—but then he was kissing me back, his fingers tangling in my shirt and at the nape of my neck, his whole body pressing against mine like he wanted to crawl inside my skin. 

The room blurred around us. All I could feel was him. The warmth of his mouth, the way his hands gripped me like he was afraid I’d disappear, the quiet, almost-broken noise he made when I dragged my fingers through his hair. 

It wasn’t enough. 

I pushed him back until his legs hit the edge of the bed, and he fell onto it with a quiet gasp. I followed, pinning him beneath me, my hands on either side of his face, my heart pounding so hard I could feel it in my throat. 

Draco’s eyes were wide, lips red and kiss-swollen, his chest rising and falling unevenly. “Harry—” 

I silenced him with another kiss, softer this time, slower. I didn’t know what I was doing, didn’t know why I was doing it—only that stopping felt impossible. 

He didn’t stop me. 

Didn’t push me away. 

Instead, he pulled me closer. 

And I let him.

Draco was warm beneath me, his breath shallow, his fingers gripping the fabric of my shirt like I was the only thing keeping him tethered to the earth. 

I didn’t know how to stop. 

I didn’t want to. 

His lips were soft, hesitant, but when I deepened the kiss, he responded in kind, his mouth opening under mine. My hands roamed—his jaw, the side of his neck, down to where his shirt had ridden up, revealing a sliver of pale skin. My fingers brushed against it, and Draco shuddered.

I wasn’t thinking anymore.

There was only the heat of his body, the way he trembled when I touched him, the fact that despite everything—despite the war, despite the Dark Mark, despite our entire fucking history—this was where I wanted to be.