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His hand tugged on the tie, loosening it almost immediately before pulling it off completely. Draco was already unbuttoning his shirt to save the embarrassment of Harry doing it for him, he wasn’t a child, after all. But Harry was watching him with serious eyes and as soon as the last button fell through the loop and separated, he was pushing the shirt back down his arms and discarding it on the bed.
His eyes scanned up and down frantically but not for long because he quickly noticed the deep red and blue and purple mark on Draco’s left side. It looked absolutely brutal. The purple part of the bruise was shaped like a half-circle, like the toe of a foot. Harry’s face fell even further if it was even possible.
“That bastard..” he whispered, fingers hovering but not touching anything. After a moment in which he seemed to be contemplating all the ways he could kill the said bastard, he lowered himself down onto his knees in front of Draco so he was almost eye-level with the middle of his torso. Draco fought the urge to jump or clear his throat and blushed impossibly hard as a strained sigh left his mouth. Harry, like always, was completely oblivious to this and carried on looking, like some kid at an aquarium. He pressed on the tender spots, asking questions like “how does this feel?” And “is this alright?” Draco looked anywhere but down.
Jesus he didn’t realize what he was doing to him, not one bit. He’s an absolute fool, Draco thought, and all at once he wanted to demand Harry get up and leave the room but he said nothing, occupied with struggle of keeping pained groans in his throat.
Finally gaining the courage needed to take a peek at what Harry was doing, he caught the boy just before he could press his fat little thumb into the darkest part of the bruise. Was he an idiot? Surely he was dropped as a child Draco thought because this was imbecile behavior.
“No.” Draco said suddenly, so loud and clarion that Harry looked up, stopping dead in his tracks.
Draco wasn’t ready for that picture.
He froze too, taking in every aspect of Harry’s position with slowly widening eyes. He couldn’t speak, no, not when Harry was looking up at him with those confusingly unnatural, stupid, annoying green eyes. Not when his mouth was hanging open just a little so he looked even more stupid. Not when his hair (which Draco swore he never brushed) stuck up in only two places, like a bird’s nest.
Merlin, Harry Potter was a fucking spectacle, though not in the way that everybody else thinks.
Draco let his mind wander far, relish in all the possibilities as something akin to a flirtatious mood settled over him. In that moment, Harry seemed to know all that was going on in his twisted little head and he stood at once, clearing his throat but not moving his hands from his waist.
“Are you uhh.. hurt, anywhere else?”
“Oh, I don’t know, you seem to like checking for me so go ahead.” Draco shrugged, eyes trained on the way red creeped onto the latter’s face. He looked like a kid again, 2nd year Harry with his, still shaggy, mop of hair, his glasses (which don’t look so big on him now), and his infuriating habit of looking away and biting his lip.
Again he cleared his voice and forced out,
“I’ll go get gauze and bandages and stuff..” before rushing out of the room and nearly slamming his fingers in the door. Draco breathed as soon as he stepped out of his personal space and nearly fell over from the lack of stability provided by the infamous Boy Who Lived, twice now. He gripped fiercely onto the head board behind him as blood rushed to his head, side, and groin all at once.
His headache trumped the feeling of arousal, especially now that Harry was gone, but then again the only thing he could think about was Harry on top of him, pressed against every inch of his body, kissing, and begging for—
Draco pancaked on his bed, relaxing in the feeling of the silk, it was comforting. Then Harry walked in, breathing hard, almost panting, honestly. He came close, sat next to Draco on the bed and poked him until he turned to face him. His hair and face were windswept, and his cheeks awfully red, lips puffy from biting, but the nurses office wasn’t that far, and he had been for a while.
‘Harry Potter, you sneaky little shit.’