sparks~drarry

Dare Me, Pretty Boy

Description: a cliche story of how Draco and Harry were dared to make out in from of the entirety of the seventh and sixth year

Warnings: underage drinking

Song: Feel it Still by Portugal, The Man

Notes: I really suck at updating consistently tbh

Length: 1k words
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Harry's POV

The alcohol was beginning to make my stomach churn. Beside me, Hermione and Pansy ground against each other, scarlet lipstick smeared over bruised lips and mascara dripping down their cheeks like wet paint. Swallowing thickly, I turned away, and instead focused on looking out for somebody like Ron.

However, the only people I recognized were Luna and Ginny, who were partaking in a questionable activity while stumbling towards the bathroom, and Ron, Neville, and Blaise, who all lounged over one of the Gryffindor common room's couches with their arms slung around each other.

I slipped towards them. Their champagne laughter was the bubbly type that you only ever hear from drunk people, the type that you could hear throughout the entire room. I snapped my fingers in front of Ron's face to get his attention. He looked up at me sleepily, drunk on something other than alcohol.

"Hey!" I called over the music, my voice hoarse from singing along. "I think I'm gonna leave, it's way too loud."

"What?" he slurred in response, and without waiting for an answer let Blaise's lips touch his while the black haired boy carefully curled his hand around Neville's wrist. Oh.

I turned my back on the Couch of Sexual Tension™ and headed towards the back of the room, where Hermione and Pansy had migrated too, no longer rolling against each other but still with makeup all over their faces.

"Oh, Harry, come on over here!" Pansy called, and to my surprise, she didn't sound the least bit drunk.

Seeing my confusion, she let out one of her signature hoarse laughs and pulled Hermione onto her lap.

"I don't drink, pretty boy."

"Aw, I thought that was my nickname," interjected Draco, who had come up behind Pansy before any of us had noticed, ruffling her hair. As she made a sound of protest, he sat himself down to my right.

"So much sexual energy over there, huh," she purred, her cat-eyed gaze shifting from me to Draco. Draco's face went scarlet.

"Yeah, sure," he said defensively.

"Really?" Hermione slurred, her hand moving to cup Pansy's ass.

"Yes," Draco snapped. "really. Now, leave me alone, will you?"

"No, we won't," Pansy's voice was a soft drawl. "Well, I mean, we'll leave you alone if we can play a quick game of Dare with you."

The light haired boy swore, and I could've sworn he glanced at me before he sat down completely, supporting himself with nimble hands that he pressed down at his sides.

"Fine. Spin it?"

Pansy's Cheshire smile flashed. "Definitely. Weasley, got any gin left over there?"

In my haze, I hadn't noticed that the flushed, touchy group of boys had placed themselves next to Hermione, Pansy, Draco, and I, their eyes bright and sweat falling from their hairlines.

"Duh," he grinned wildly, and rolled an empty green bottle towards her heeled feet. She picked it up and waved her wand lazily before placing it back down. She flicked her hand, and the bottle spun, landing on Neville.

Hermione's voice was quiet and hazy, but understandable. "Go in the closet and if you come out with your necks red I'll be happy."

As Neville and Blaise stumbled towards the bathroom rather than a closet, Ron scowled, but didn't speak out. Rather, he flicked a hand at the bottle and it spun, eventually landing on Draco.

The moonlight boy visually stiffened. His back straightened, and his face went to stone, gray eyes elusive.

Pansy wagged her finger at him, her smile growing. "Aha! Draco Malfoy, if you don't reveal that utterly disgusting sexual tension you two have I'll take it upon myself to force your heads together!"

His face once more going that velvet red, Draco's gaze slid over to me, strangely sending chills crawling down my spine like a lover's fingertips.

"What's she talking about, Malfoy?" I said, feeling as if my tongue was thicker than it actually was. He swallowed.

"I..."

"Just do it!" Pansy called impatiently, and before I could even think to move, Draco's mouth was against mine.

Before that moment, Draco Malfoy had always been armor. Unbreakable and powerful, he was the person you imagined when you thought of strength. But beneath my lips, beneath my pressing fingertips, he was silk and satin like me.

I ignored Hermione's cooing and pressed us closer together by placing my hand on the back of his head and shoving him, shoving him forwards so the pressure against my mouth was near painful. He shuddered as I skated my thumbs against the area where his shirt met his shorts.

My mind blocked out the rest of the party. I bit his lip harshly, purring as the taste of sharp iron filled both of our mouths, the warm liquid dribbling down our chins and onto his shirt. He let out a little gasp and grabbed my jacket, pulling me, somehow, even closer.

When we finally separated, my breath was but a wheeze, and my hands were shaking violently. Beneath me, Draco looked stunned.

"Woah," I heard him whisper, and I couldn't help but send him a smile.

Then, without saying a word to the hooting people around us, I stood up and grabbed his hand, pulling him up as well. I nipped at his ear.

"Dare me, pretty boy. Dare me to do something utterly insane."

He looked up at me, and at that moment, all his softness was gone.

"I dare you to give me a part two."