golden longings

XXIX

***

Something made Draco do it. It could have been the alcohol, the general notion of honesty the evening had seemed to adapt, or simply the urges he had suppressed so many times. It could have been one of those things or another entirely different thing.
Whichever one it was, something made him do it.

His gaze slipped down, from Harry's eyes to his lips, where it lingered for just a second too long to be casual. And it was as if his body moved without Draco having to give it a command.
Slowly he leaned forward. Just a little bit. Enough that he could still stop himself. Not enough to actually close the distance between them.

However, Harry did. It seemed that he leaned forward in almost the same instant. And a little more than Draco.
Which lead to the two of them closing the distance between them.
They came closer and before Draco had acknowledged what was happening, their lips collided.

As they did, it was as if the world around them tuned out. As if the moon shone it's light only to illuminate them.
Their lips touched, softly. Much softer and slower than the times they had before.
It was also the first time that Draco acknowledged, even if silently and to himself, that it had happened before in a while.

They stayed almost still like that for a second before they started to move again. Slowly, and not away from on another.
Instead, Draco leaned in just a little more. And as he did, their lips pressed even closer together. And then they moved. Soft lips against soft lips.
They moved so slowly that to Draco it seemed almost like times had slowed down just for them.

In that moment, he felt many things.
He felt how warm another pair of lips was against his own and how much softer it felt against his lips than it had against his thumb. And he felt a little stubble on Harry's chin, scratching against his own.
And beyond all that, he felt amazed.

Amazed at how good it all felt. The little stubble scratching his skin wasn't bothering at all but felt entirely natural, as if it was supposed to be there.
Amazed at how the kiss did not only warm his lips but his entire body. It felt as though the cool night air had been tuned out along with every other impression aside from what was happening on the small balcony.

Besides the tiny voice inside Draco that told him that he was kissing the very last person in the world that he should be kissing, the moment was perfect. So much so that he was even able to tune out that tiny voice.

Draco found that although he disliked the taste of Bandy on it's own, it was almost addictive on Harry's lips.
He traced the shape of those lips with his own. Then with his tongue. And they felt so very perfect against both of them.
He reached out a hand and after just a moment it found Harry's neck. He then used it to pull them even closer together.
It seemed that upon the sudden movement, their lips had parted just a little, which left enough room for their teeth to clash together.

The unpleasant feeling was quickly forgotten as Draco took that opportunity to slide his tongue between their parted lips. And somehow their kiss didn't even grow hungry from that. They kept the steady rhythm in which they were moving with each other. Only that Draco tasted a lot more of the Brandy he had suddenly ceased to dislike entirely. From Potter's mouth it became his favourite drink. He didn't want to ever stop tasting it.

The hand that Draco had placed on Harry's neck wandered, up into that perfectly disheveled hair. If only to dishevel it a little more. Draco doubted that it would even be noticable. Not that he cared in the moment.
He was too caught up in the taste of Brandy and Potter, the most delicious combination. More delicious than he would have ever been able to phantom.