Ensnared (Drarry)

Chapter 9

He must have eventually fallen asleep, having no idea how long until Draco had blown out his candles and slept as well. Likely turned on his side also, turned away.

Harry awoke to a dim room. Sunlight was creeping around the thick curtains, but it felt early still. The inn was still and quiet. No one walking in the hallways, whispering to each other. No distant sounds from the kitchen.

He was lying on his back, pyjamas twisted around his body evidence that he had been restless in the night. He had gotten used to sleeping in just his underwear, living alone for the past few months.

Draco was on his side, facing towards Harry, still sleeping. His hair was messy, lying against his blue pillowcase in all directions. Harry was sure his own hair was just as bad. What struck him most was Draco's face. Relaxed in sleep, he looked younger, reminding Harry of how he was at school. Before things had gotten so intense in their sixth year, and they could still act like school rivals to each other.

Draco must have sensed he was being watched, as he shifted a little, and his eyes slowly opened. His sleepy gaze widened when he saw Harry lying so close, and met his gaze.

Harry felt a surge of emotions for this man, seeing him waking like that. He shifted closer, moving in to give Draco a light kiss. Pulling back a little, wondering if he had gone too far. If he was taking advantage of the situation.

But Draco's eyes warmed, a smile curving the corner of his mouth before he leaned into Harry, kissing him back hard. Harry gathered him in his arms, holding him tight, kissing, lost in the feel of him. Of this.

Draco shifted to being on his back, his hands keeping Harry near, rolling on top on him, taking his weight and liking it. His legs spread, letting Harry settle between them, and even through all the material between them, they were rocking together. Kissing the whole time.

Harry wasn't holding back, loving how responsive Draco was being. Sometimes he shied away from Harry being on top. But all the signals were that he was just as into this. His hands were even pushing up Harry's top, running over his bare back.

Even though he was aroused, Harry didn't push for more. He was loving this, kissing along Draco's neck, his face. His lips. Harry kissed him again and again. All the ways he had been wanting to for weeks, but had held back.

"Harry," Draco gasped, tilting his head back as he sucked a faint pink mark into the fair skin on his neck.

Hearing his name now, like this, was almost too much. Harry moaned, shifting off to the side with his lower body, turning his head to rest it against Draco's chest. Trying to catch his breath, to keep his head from spinning. Too much. Feeling too much at once.

Draco's hands went into his hair, combing through it with his fingers. Occasionally getting a bit caught on a tangle and undoing it. It was a wonderful feeling, having Draco almost petting him. He had dug his hands into his hair before, even pulled on it sometimes, but never stroked through it.

Harry made a pleased hum, relaxing even more. Draco must have noticed, as he kept doing it, his hand running through all his hair, until it was untangled and easier to card through. He kept up the strokes, seeming to enjoy the feel of his hair.

Draco shifted away, and Harry was surprised to feel him straddle his legs. He was still on his stomach, and Draco pushed his top upwards. His hands ran along the bared skin of his back, and Harry moaned at how good it felt. He kept doing it, varying the strokes. Sometimes firmer pressure with just the heel of his hands, next, just the light trace of his fingertips down his spine.