This is for stagesoflove, for Round III, Part V: Gluttony. It is told in Draco's pt of view and it is late, because I suck. Yes. If you want the rest, by all means, check out my memories. The rest is there, promise.
Pairing/Fandom: Harry Potter, HP/DM
Rating: Ag, I can't get the hang of the new rating system thingamagigy. If you have eyes, and aren't offended by the mention of two guys getting it on, then by all means, read.
Summary: Draco gets hungry and thinks about the past.
Disclaimer: They surely aren't mine, because if they were I would know what happens in the next two books, and I sure as hell wouldn't be whining about July 16 being so far away.
Word count: 399
I am always completely ravenous after sex. Particularly good sex, and let's face it, Harry is the best there is. It's funny, but out of all my lovers he should have known the least about me, yet he knows the most. He knows that if he tickles the palm of my hand just so, my fingers will automatically twine with his. He knows that if he rubs my shoulders just a little, I'll turn into a big gooey mess and melt against him. He knows that after I've melted just a little, he can lean forward and breathe oh-so-softly on the shell of my ear, and I'm more than likely to drag him to the nearest flat surface and pound him through it. He knows that with one look from his impossibly green eyes, I get harder than I've ever been for anyone in my life. And he knows about my food obsession.
I stare down at him as he sleeps, a small smile on my face as I recall the time he'd caught me stuffing chocolate frogs into my mouth during my supposed 'clean up'. He'd laughed long and hard at the look on my face when he caught me, then laughed some more at what he called my 'insatiable appetite', before taking my hand and showing me how to get into the kitchens. I'll never forget that night, ever. After that it became routine for us to head straight to the kitchens after every sexual encounter, where Harry would make playful grabs for my food and I would make as if to bite him if he got too close...I remember how his eyes would light up when we played like that, and how I knew during those times that no matter what happened with the war, whichever way I chose, I would always love only Harry Potter.
I let out a small sigh as I slip away from Harry to make that trek to the kitchens, this time alone. Even though ever fibre of my being wants to wake Harry up and relive those precious moments when nothing mattered except us and me eating to my heart's content, I can't. I need this time to think, to decide what just happened. To figure out what it means and what exactly I'm going to do about it...even though I'm pretty sure I know the answers to both questions.