Okay, I honestly hope there are no spelling mistakes, but I'm not promising...it's something that's been in my head for quite a while, but I keep forgettting to write down. If the format's a little crazy, it's because I've been typing on my laptop, which is a Mac, so hey...I'm FAAAR from a techology genius. Okay, finished with the excuses (almost). I hope you like it, but as said at the bottom, it's not as chldishly sweet as before. As in, they are slightly more libidinous in their activities now, but still sweetly in love. No lemons, as usual.
Again, dedicated to my betas, especially Grace who's about to leave the school(TRAITOR...not...just don't stop writing or betaing my fics) and also Wendiesz's baby sis/bro...(cute thing), her mom (go MOMMIES! ESP. MINE! I LOVE HER SO MUCH!)and Sugar Pie herself, because big sister-ing needs a heck of a lot of work.
Forbidden Fruit
Cherries.
It was really a rather remarkable find, Harry thought, as he looked at the tree with mild interest. After all, one didn't really expect to find a muggle plant in a magical forest.
He stared at the plant, sunlight glinting off the fruit. The cherries, Harry thought, were not really the somewhat dusty pink many people acknowledged as 'cherry red'. These cherries were wine red, a tinge of purple brushing the surface, giving the fruit an almost...
...wanton attraction.
He smiled, a dreamy smile, one that led people to almost believe that the boy was in a trance. Almost as if he was in another world, he reached out, reaching for the 'forbidden fruit'.
A hand stopped him.
Calmly, Harry turned around.
"Malfoy."
There was no hatred in his tone. Said blonde nodded.
"Potter."
They stared at each other, thinking.
Harry looked at the Dragon. Pale blond strands framed a pale, angular face. Grey eyes watching him with...interest? He watched, waiting.
In turn, the blonde looked at him, his mind contemplating. Black, black hair curled around a tanned face, making it look even more fragile than it already was. Smoky eyelashes dusted golden cheeks, forest green eyes peeking from beneath their depths.
It seemed that the Phoenix had tired of his staring, for he'd picked a cherry -another one- from one of the lower branches. Slowly, he placed the cherry between his teeth –eyelashes still lowered.
Draco watched, captivated, as Harry bit his teeth into the cherry. Red liquid coloured his lips, gleaming ruby in the sunlight. Green eyes closed momentarily, as an errant tongue swept over swollen lips.
Vaguely, Draco wondered if the forest was an imitation of Eden.
Forbidden fruit had never looked so alluring.
Harry looked at Draco. His head leaning back against the tree, a small moan emitting from his lips. He stared, bewitched, as a single drop of crystal red escaped the demon of a tongue.
Not thinking, only acting, he reached forward, capturing the lower lip of the tempter before him. Securing his prize, he proceeded to suck on his treasure -softly at first, than not at all softly.
Tongues ran over tongues. Slippery, coated, sliding over one another. Rushes of red, so crimson, they almost resembled blood. But they resembled wine, so intoxicating, soothing to their nerves, yet tortuous in their dances on their tongues. Stained lips sucked each other clean, as tongues brushed against each other, teasingly, fleetingly, coated in sweet, sticky fluid.
Harry pulled back, breathing fast and harsh. He watched as silver eyes skimmed over his lips, meeting his eyes and staying there.
Magnetic attraction pulled them together again, as they brushed lips once more. Slowly they played against each other, the lazy summer heat somehow dragging the entire experience out. Pale hands dragged tanned wrists above a wild mop of raven hair, rasping slightly against the hard ridges of the tree behind them. A moan escaped from rakish lips, as the two chests pressed closer to each other.
Rampant mouths played with the single stem of a ravished cherry, twisting, curling, knotting. They pulled apart, gasping, the knotted stem falling to the floor. Harry's arms descended, wrapping around the Slytherin's neck, as long fingers closed delicately on his hips. Draco sends a seductive whisper into Harry's ear.
"You know what they say about people who can tie cherry stems into knots with their tongues."
He smiled, an idle smile, tugging his lips upwards, eyes seeming also to sparkle with a lascivious shine. Draco smirked, opening his lips into an errant 'o', a faint breath of air escaping and blowing gently onto his victim's nose. Hands slipped down from neck, gliding to shoulders, then chest, pulling at the soft cotton shirt that Draco was wearing. A sigh, then a mop of midnight hair rested on Draco's shoulder.
Cheek pillowed onto skin -blocked by a single layer- Harry's cheek flushed slightly, at the seemingly romantic position they were in. Draco watched him, amused –yet strangely satisfied at the same time. One of his hands went up and wrapped around Harry's left shoulder.
Harry looked up at him, puzzled, then shyly put up his hand, to graze his fingers against Draco's cheek. Catching his lover's fingers, Draco kissed each one tenderly, watching as a blush tainted his puer carus. Smiling, the glow of their love reaching his eyes, he entwined their fingers together.
There are no thoughts of darkness; of spite and betrayal. There is nothing but the love they hold for each other in each other's eyes, as clear as the grass is in the sunset's brilliant glory. For now, the sands of time have stopped. For now, the war is distant, far away across the seas of the future. The past is the past and the castles built in the air of the warm summer evening have pavestones and pathways that seem not impossible to build.
They slide down to the grass, Draco's arms wrapped around Harry's body, their hands resting on Harry's washboard stomach. Watching the myriad of colours in the sky die down to a dark, deep violet that tinted the clouds.
Then Draco would kiss his love's fingers again, caressing his lips against the silky skin. Another kiss on the back of the tanned palm, as he pulled them up again. Harry would tiptoe a little, than brush his lips at the corner of his lover's mouth, affectionate -a contrast to the passionate clashing of mouths that had taken place only just that morning. Then they would leave, each heading separate directions, to meet again some other day.
Perhaps forbidden fruit wasn't so hard to get after all.
A/N: Not too sure about the Latin, but I meant it to say beloved boy. Like? Review...lol, it's not my usual sweet pieces, but it just went into my mind and stayed there, so please don't blame me!