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draco stood at the counter, splashing water onto his face just as everybody started to leave the locker room.
some threw small goodbyes — others, a little more loud. some were cheering as they walked, gossiping about the afterparty in the slytherin dormorites.
slytherin had just won the most important game of the season — the game against gryffindor — so of course there was going to be an afterparty.
“hey, you coming?” he heard someone say as he wiped the water from his eyes. that was a stupid question. of course he was going — well, he kinda had to if he wanted to go to sleep that night.
he opened them slowly, looking up to see blaise. he just shrugged, looking back to the counter. “i’ll catch you there later.”
blaise nodded and grabbed his bag. “you better actually party this time. y’know, you’re the reason we won.”
draco laughed and waved blaise off. “i’ll see,” the older boy just scoffed and grabbed his bag, waving to draco as he left.
when the door slammed behind blaise, the locker room became eerily quiet. not the kind of quiet where no one else was there — the kind of silence when someone else was there.
“it was a foul.”
draco turned his head to look behind him where the voice had came from.
“you know it was a foul,” it continued.
when he swung around — there he was. the one and only harry potter stood in front of his eyes, arms crossed. he looked mad, really mad. how’d he even get behind him without him noticing?
draco smirked at him. of course he was angry, he just lost to his worst enemy on the most important game to date.
“i didn’t know you’d become such a sore loser, potter,” he sighed, teasing harry as he turned back around to look back to the counter.
he heard harry take a step forward behind him. he looked up at the mirror, scanning harry as he stepped closer behind him. “i’m not a sore loser, you’re a cheater.”
draco turned around fully, facing him. suddenly, he realized how close they actually were. “how is it my fault they didn’t call it?” he asked, crossing his arms.
“so you admit it! it was a foul. you did it on purpose!”
draco rolled his eyes and turned back around, placing his quidditch boots back into his bag. harry stepped next to him, placing his bag on the counter forcefully.
harry was still in his quidditch uniform, just like draco was — except harry’s was a little dirtier and more beat up. the smell of sweat, anger, and the grass of the quidditch field floated throughout the room.
draco looked over at harry, who was staring right back at him.
“you’re still here?” draco asked slyly, a small smirk evident on his face.
harry scoffed, turning around and leaning his back on the counter and looking ahead of them. “you are infuriating, you know that?”
“so i’ve been told,” he squinted at the side of harry’s face, who was looking angrier by the second.
there was a silence between them. draco smacked his lips in annoyance. slowly, he eyed harry up and down out of his peripheral — damn, he looked so good today.
… okay, draco. not the point. why was harry still here anyway? what did he even want?
“so… what do you want, potter?” draco asked, breaking their silence. ”we can’t do anything about it, the game’s done.”
harry said firmly, looking back over at draco. “i want you to admit you slammed into me on purpose.”
draco was starting to get fed up. harry just wanted draco to admit it for his ego — and draco would feed anything but harry’s ego. “merlin, we’re playing quidditch, it’s bound to happen.”
“you nearly knocked me off my broom!”
“i almost fell off too! not everything is about you! get over yourself potter.”
harry scoffed. “says you,” harry pushed himself off the counter to face draco, who was stepping closer as he argued.
“stop complaining! you’re lucky we didn’t get subbed out!” harry looked furious at that last comment, and the only thing it did was make draco smirk even more.
“admit it! admit that the only way you win games is by cheating!” harry exclaimed, yelling into draco’s face. neither of them realized how close they really were — maybe because they were angry. or maybe because they simply didn’t care.
draco could feel his face heating up, as well as his chest. he clenched his fists tightly beside him.
“and if i don’t?” draco chuckled. “what’re you gonna do, huh?”
harry huffed, and brought his fist up, connecting it with draco’s face. the punch stung like venom — but draco was a little used to the sting, especially after how many times they’ve fought like this before.
draco lunged onto him, fighting back. draco didn’t even know what was happening. all he knew is that they were scrambling against each other, getting pushed against the counter, and then the wall, and then back on the counter.
he couldn’t quite tell who was winning, but all he knew was that his jaw was killing him.
harry had draco pushed against the wall, another punch going to draco’s torso. draco tried to push him off, punching him in his chest while he was resisting. “get off of me!”
harry pushed him harder, trapping him between the wall and harry. which made draco push his body against him, trying to free himself. eventually, draco pushed hard enough, knocking them both to the ground.
now draco had the upper hand. he landed upright on harry’s chest, making harry let out an involuntary noise.
harry was completely on the ground looking up at draco, he scrambled to push draco off — but to no avail. “get off, malfoy!”
draco brought his fist back, about to bring it down and connect it with harry’s nose.
that was until harry looked up at him through his eyelashes. harry looked… helpless. he was trapped by draco’s legs, and couldn’t seem to get free.
then reality hit. instead of connecting his fist, draco just stood frozen, breathing heavily as he tried to catch his breath. harry did the same, heaving as he looked up.
draco brought his fist down, making harry let out a sigh of relief. draco just sighed along with him, eyes shutting tightly as he ran a hand through his hair.
they both were breathing heavily, the locker room filling with the sounds of their heaving breaths. “are you done?” harry asked. “can i at least sit up now?”
draco shot a look at him, complying and moving off of his chest, down to in between his legs. he was still out of breath, he didn’t even want to try standing up right now.
harry lifted himself up with his arms, his chest falling up and down quickly.
nothing was exchanged between the two. they just sat there, seemingly soaking it all in. slowly, their eyes met — draco didn’t even know how, or when.
they just stared at each other, the air between them getting thicker by the second. draco didn’t move, he couldn’t move. it felt like his body wouldn’t let him, like he was trapped.
and soon enough, draco noticed how the distance between them started to close, and close, and close. before eventually he could feel harry’s ragged breath on his lips.
and he couldn’t take it.
draco lunged his head forward and locked their lips, letting out a breath as he did. harry's head bumped back slightly as draco brought their lips together in a soft kiss. he just kissed harry’s mouth — and soon enough, he realized — harry wasn’t kissing back.
shit, did he read that wrong?
just as he was about to pull back, get up, run away from hogwarts and get a whole new identity — harry pressed back into him, moving his lips along draco’s.
okay — draco was not used to this kind of… fighting. but, still — it felt like heaven. it felt like everything draco never had. everything he wanted. and fuck draco liked it.
draco licked into his mouth, gaining a raspy groan from back of harry’s throat. he moaned into his mouth as he pushed closer to him. harry’s back hit the wall, making him gasp softly. he hesitated for half a second before lifting himself, slowly swinging one leg over harry’s hips until he was properly straddling him — knees pressed into the floor.
as they kissed, draco couldn’t help but notice the growing pain in his jaw. he knew it was going to be sore — especially with all the making out they were doing right now — but currently, that was the least of his concerns.
harry gasped again when draco kissed down to his jaw, his hands gripping the hem of draco’s shirt like he didn’t even realize he was doing it. everything was fast and slow all at once — every breath they took sounded too loud, every touch felt like fire.
draco bit down softly at the edge of harry’s jaw, pulling a shuddered breath from him.
“fuck,” harry whispered. “i hate you.”
draco laughed, breathless. “sure doesn’t feel like it.”
harry pulled back just slightly, just enough to look him in the eye. his pupils were blown wide, hair a mess, a bruise already darkening near his cheekbone — but merlin, he was beautiful like this.
harry licked his lips slowly, catching his breath quietly. his eyes flicked from draco’s mouth to his eyes, then back again.
“that wasn’t—” harry started, but his voice cracked. he cleared it. “that wasn’t part of the plan.”
draco let out a short laugh — sharp, quiet. “there was a plan?”
draco shifted, barely, and harry’s hands flew to his thighs — maybe to steady him. maybe to keep him there incase he was trying to get off (which, he wasn’t). maybe just to touch.
“potter,” draco breathed out softly — a tone he had never used before around harry.
“don’t do that,” harry muttered, avoiding draco’s eye-contact.
“do what?” draco asked, voice low.
harry’s fingers tightened around his thighs, slowly snaking up to grip his hips. “that thing. with your voice.”
“i’m literally just talking,” draco said with a smirk, leaning in slightly. “don’t tell me that’s all it takes.”
harry huffed a breath, annoyed. he looked back up at draco.
their eyes locked again — heavy, thick with something unspoken. the kind of look that makes your heart pound in your throat. harry’s grip on draco’s hips didn’t ease. in fact, it only got tighter. like he was anchoring himself there.
draco didn’t move. his face stayed close, his smirk faltering just slightly, like he was waiting. harry’s gaze dropped to his mouth again.
the air felt so charged, that this time — harry leaned in.
but just before their lips could touch — barely a breath between them — draco pulled back. slow. deliberate. then, just as casually, he climbed off harry’s lap and stood up like nothing had happened.
harry blinked up at him, flustered. “what—”
draco just rolled his neck, then offered a hand to pull harry up. “we should go.”
harry ignored the hand and pushed himself up on his own, jaw tight. “you’re unbelievable.”
draco didn’t reply. he walked over to the mirror by the sinks where their bags were placed and stared at his reflection. harry followed a moment later, coming to stand beside him — both of them looking rough.
draco’s usually gelled hair was very messy, now ruffled and disheveled. there was a dark bruise starting to form on his jaw, right where harry had punched him. his uniform shirt was also untucked, and his pants were a little… looser.
harry’s hair was naturally messy — so it really didn’t look any different. there was a dark bruise also forming on his cheekbone, but not has prominent as draco’s. his collar was stretched on one side, his lips matching the red color of his jersey.
they looked like they’d been in a fight.
well. they had. but now… it looked like something else entirely.
both their lips swollen, red, and wet? their hair practically twisting in every direction?
draco reached up, brushing his fingers across the darkening bruise on his jaw. harry just watched him in the mirror, lips parting like he wanted to say something — but didn’t.
the silence between them stretched. heavy. still buzzing with everything they weren’t saying.
draco just sighed, moving his hand up to run it through his hair again. “how do you except me to go to this afterparty looking like this?” he pointed at the bruise on his cheekbone, glaring at it in the mirror like it had personally offended him.
harry leaned against the sink, arms crossed. “i dunno. glamour it? say you fell. tell them i punched you. all of those would technically be true.”
draco scoffed. “you did not punch me hard enough to bruise.”
harry raised an eyebrow. “i literally had you against the wall, malfoy.”
“don’t remind me,” draco muttered, grabbing a paper towel and wetting it under the tap, pressing it lightly to the edge of the forming bruise. they didn’t talk about what happened when draco had him against the floor.
harry smirked at his reflection. “you’re welcome, by the way. most people would pay for that kind of attention from me.”
draco rolled his eyes, but didn’t argue. “right. because nothing screams luxury like getting decked by the chosen one in a locker room.”
there was a pause. then—
“... didn’t hear you complaining.”
draco froze slightly, then glanced over at harry, who was still looking smug. their eyes met in the mirror again. they just didn’t say anything, until draco looked away to toss the paper towel away.
harry tilted his head. “y’know, your hair looks better like that.”
draco turned from the mirror slowly, giving him a look.
harry shrugged, trying to seem casual, but failing miserably. “without all the gel. you look less like an uptight prefect and more like… i dunno. you.”
draco didn’t say anything for a second. Just looked at him. he rolled his eyes, but his hand drifted up to run through his hair again — like he was checking. “you really don’t know how to shut up, do you?”
“never have,” harry said with a grin, a little too proud of it.
draco smirked — just faintly — and turned to grab his bag off the counter. he slung it over his shoulder, sighing softly as he started to walk away.
but before he could walk out or even reach for the door — harry pushed himself from the counter, stepping closer to draco.
“wait,” he said, voice a little sharper than he intended, making draco freeze in his tracks. harry cleared his throat carefully. “we’re not gonna talk about… that?”
draco paused, his back still to harry. his fingers tightening around the strap of his bag.
then, over his shoulder, voice dry — but still, a little softer than usual. “maybe next time, potter.”
and with that, he quickly opened the door, and he slipped out — just… gone. like that.
harry stared after him for a second, the door swinging shut behind him, echoing against the walls. harry was left there — frozen — in his thoughts.
heart hammering, brain fried, standing in the middle of the locker room like an idiot.
he sighed hard, running a hand through his own mess of hair. "the fuck does that mean?” he muttered to no one.
he stared at the door, a million thoughts running through his mind at once. he just… let draco walk out the door. just like he let draco kiss him.
because apparently, a foul isn't the only thing draco malfoy can get away with.