Rating: PG-13 for Enthusiastic Snogging
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters herein are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended.
Media: Pencil, Pen, and Photoshop
Notes: This started as just a strong desire to draw somewhat old school H/D, including Harry in Dudley's old hand-me-downs, and when the art was completed, I just felt like it needed writing to go with it. So my thanks (as the artist) go out to the bonus mystery writer for providing just what I was looking for. And much, much love to Sherant as well, as her art never ceases to provide inspiration.
Harry feels the fine weave of Draco's shirt under his fingertips, and knows his own clothes are rough, by comparison. Dudley's old jumper is hardly poor quality; Petunia would never clothe her precious boy in cheap things. Still, it's not like Draco's clothing, and Harry smiles because he doesn't care about Draco's wardrobe, but Draco does.
He steps forward again as Draco steps back, maintaining contact with the soft shirt and softer wealthy skin, and three more steps have them at the wall, hard against Draco's back. Harry hears the fabric rip as he brings Draco's legs around him, as he presses upward against the vee of Draco's legs, as he leans forward for the kiss.
The wall holds them up as they kiss, ignoring the loose sag of Harry's second-hand jeans, ignoring the fog forming on Harry's glasses, ignoring the way the brick is surely scraping Draco's skin. Harry will kiss that, later, too, but now, he's busy. Draco's fingers are in his hair, urging him closer; his hands are on the perfect curve of Draco's arse; and there is nothing that could be important enough to stop.
The sun goes behind a cloud, and neither of them notice.