Day 23

Harry couldn't stop glancing at Draco. 

The other boy was sitting on the couch right next to Harry, immersed in his book. He was using their conjoined hand to hold the book, and his free one to turn the pages. 

His hair was glowing a slightly darker shade of blonde in the sunset's fading light. He hadn't put gel in it in weeks, and it looked so warm, so soft, and Harry wanted nothing more than to run his fingers through it. 

"Draco?" he asked, scared to disturb the tentative peace. 

Draco calmly looked up from his book. The sunset's warm light hit his eyes at just the right angle, causing the normally steely grey orbs to flash a fiery orange for a brief second.

"Yes?" he replied gently. 

"Can- can I- I mean, if it's okay with you-"

"Spit it out, Potter," Draco said, but there was no malice in his voice, only veiled amusement. 

"Can I touch your hair?" he blurted out. 

Draco's face turned to one of surprise, and Harry was immediately horrified. 

Shit, what have I done, why would I ask him that, fuck I made things weird-

"Why?" Draco asked, sounding genuinely curious. 

"It- it just looks really soft, an I wanted to feel it, and- oh never mind, I'm obviously making an idiot of myself," Harry finished, putting his head in his one free hand. 

"No!" Draco said quickly. "I mean- you can touch it, if you want, I don't mind."

Harry smiled at him. "Really?"

Draco nodded, reciprocating the smile. 

Harry reached across his body with his free hand, and gently ran his fingers through Draco's hair. 

It was soft. Softer even than it looked. Silky smooth and so amazingly soft that Harry was conflicted between wanting to run his fingers through it for eternity and wanting to wrap the strands around his fingers and pull until Draco was left moaning his name. 

"Whoa," he whispered. 

Draco glanced at him. "What?"

"It's really, really soft. Shit, Draco, what do you put in your hair?"

"Shampoo and conditioner, obviously."

Harry ignored him and continued to run his fingers through his hair, staring in wonder at the silky strands between his fingers. 

Draco hummed in contentment and returned to his book. 

The warm moment of peace was shattered in an instant. 

The instant Harry pulled Draco's hair. 

He hadn't meant to, really. But running his fingers through Draco's hair was starting to turn him on, and no matter how much his brain screamed at him to pull his damn hand away, he kept running his fingers through it. 

Then his fingers got a mind of their own, and in Harry's slight buzz of hormones, he didn't have the mind to stop them from tugging Draco's hair gently. 

And then Draco moaned. 

Draco fucking moaned. 

And damn it if it wasn't the sexiest thing Harry had ever heard. 

But in Harry's sudden rush of blood to his cock at the small sound Draco had made, his hand had stilled completely. 

Draco went rigid. Frozen in his seat, and both boys were completely silent. 

Draco closed his eyes tightly. "I fucked up, didn't I?" he whispered. 

Harry's mouth wouldn't move to tell Draco that no, he hadn't fucked up and shit, that was the hottest thing Harry ever heard. 

Draco put his head in his one free hand, groaning. "Fuck, I'm sorry Harry. I should have known better, letting you touch my hair when I knew that hair pulling was my kink, fuck, I'm so sorry. Please say something."

"I'm not," Harry whispered hoarsely. 

Draco's head whipped toward him. "What?"

Harry blushed. "I'm not sorry."

Draco's eyes widened. "Why not?"

Harry looked down at his hands before his eyes fluttered up to meet Draco's. 

"Maybe I liked it."

Draco's eyes were glowing with what looked an awful lot like lust. 

"So, that was the last one. The third kink. Exhibitionism, Parseltongue, hair-pulling," Harry said softly.

Draco smiled shyly. "Yeah. Anytime we ever did... something, it took everything in me to not beg you to pull my hair."

"Are you serious?" Harry asked, shocked. "Anytime we did something, it took everything in me not to pull your hair!"

Draco laughed in shock.

Harry noticed his fingers were still in Draco's hair, and experimentally tugged it again.

Draco's head fell back with a moan.

That sound set Harry off. He pulled Draco up onto his feet, shoving him on the bed and straddling his hips.

"Fuck, that was fucking hot," he whispered. "Please tell me I can kiss you."

Draco answered by sitting up halfway and kissing Harry hard.

Harry slowly leaned forward into the kiss, laying Draco down before pulling away with a grin on his face.

Draco looked breathless.

"I think we can officially say us doing things isn't just for convenience anymore," he said hoarsely.

Harry laughed softly. "I don't think it ever was."

Draco moaned in agreement as Harry tugged his hair again and moved to kissing his neck.

"Fuck, Harry, fuck me."

"You sure?" Harry murmured into his throat.

"God, fuck, yes please."

Harry smiled and kissed him again, and they spent the rest of the night lost in each other.