IMPORTANT: Smut and lemon galore. This is a one-shot done in two parts. If people end up liking it I might have to write a spin off or something similar to it. Takes place in fifth year, but it doesn't really matter. I'm not trying to fit this into Rowling's plot line.

Draco was leering at some third years as he practiced the art of seduction so he might actually get laid this semester. He'd been so busy pestering the Gryffindor dream team he hadn't had time to focus on his own needs. Primal and otherwise. He made a mental note to buff up more before Christmas.

A seemingly willing Ravenclaw was batting her eyes at Draco when he heard the huff and puff of a runner loping past the cluster of trees they were taking cover under. The Ravenclaw immediately stuttered her sentence and followed the runner with her eyes wide and jaw hanging in silence. Draco spun only to find Harry shirtless and dripping sweat, no doubt training for the Quidditch season fast approaching. The sunlight seemed to glint off his damp skin so the eye was teased into thinking it was just for you.

Draco's stomach twisted into knots and his fists clenched against his crossed arms. The confusing emotion led directly into rage and a strange form of envy to whoever else got to see this godly sight. There was only one thing he could do.

"Hey Potter, don't bother training," A sneer distorted Draco's features, "No workout could ever help you beat me as Seeker."

The only sign Harry could hear him was the furrowing of his perfect browline as he jogged past. Draco's animosity was satisfied for now, but he always felt strangely depressed after a good belittling. Without speaking to the Ravenclaw whose name he never bothered getting, he stormed to the dungeons to find Crabbe and Goyle. A good bullying would cheer him up.

Malfoy muttered the password and strolled into the common room. The goons were spread out between two tables looking frantic and confused as they stared at their nearly blank parchments.

"'Ey, you two. Get up. We're going to the Great Hall to pick on some first years."

The two looked up simultaneously with the same dumbfounded look covering their faces.

"Oh but we can't Draco," Goyle exclaimed, "This potions essay is due in the morning. Three feet of parchment and we barely have a paragraph!"

Crabbe chimed in, "Yeah, we already had to skip part of dinner." His face deflated as if this was the worst news of the year.

Draco grumbled about bloody buggers to himself as he turned tail and stomped off the way he had come. His destination was unknown, but he still had a good hour and a half till curfew. His legs led him to the design of stones just outside the school over looking the Forbidden Forest and Hagrid's Hut. He shed his school robes and discarded his tie in a pile next to one of the higher rocks. Sleeves rolled and sans shoes, Draco climbed easily up to the peak of the stone to get a better view of the fading sun. The usual unpleasantness that clouded his features had morphed into a half lidded look of contentment.

As Draco daydreamt, a sudden comotion below his feet caught his attention. He leaned over just in time to see Harry blasted Potter sprinting away with his stuff, green and silver tie trailing behind the Gryffindor. The Slytherin bounded from his perch and hit the ground running at full speed after Potter. Although Harry had been training hard lately and Draco was without shoes, Draco had two things working in his favor: the anger induced adrenaline pumping through his veins, and the fact that carrying loose articles is always awkward for someone trying to run away.

Nearing the edge of the grounds, Draco was steadily gaining on Harry with no signs of slowing down. Harry abandoned the clothing and began to leap in and out of the boundaries of the forest. Malfoy followed religiously; his feet danced over broken twigs careful not to stab himself and weaved through trees. It wasn't about the clothes anymore, those were long gone. It was about the principle. He couldn't let this ungrateful Gryffindor get away with pulling a stunt like this. His reputation would go right out the window.

Draco was barely two feet away from his prey now and was itching to strike. When Harry slowed after tripping over a gnarled tree root, Draco saw his chance. With both feet he launched forward on to the still stumbling boy and laced a hand through his thick hair. Draco's free arm ensnared Harry and there was no escape. They hit the ground hard and slid on a layer of dead leaves until their momentum brought them to a little nook made by three especially ancient looking trees.

Dirt and other unpleasantires covered the two boys as each struggled for the upper hand. Many forest creatures watched incredulously from the shadows at the ridiculous show. The scuffle stopped with Harry lying flat on his bare stomach, with arms pinned above him by Draco's white knuckled hands. Each boy felt comfortable in the fact that this position wasn't going to change for awhile. For a long time, the only sound that could be heard was labored breathing as both took the opportunity to rest up for the inevitable fight that was going to ensue.

But instead of a flurry of punches, a flurry of laughter erupted. It started off as a muffled chuckle from Harry's mouth full of debris. Draco's anger spiked when he heard this, but as Harry's chest shook with uncontrollable laughter, Draco could do nothing but shake with him. Rolling beside him, the two boys guffawed together until their stomachs hurt. Then eye contact would follow, and a crescendo of laughter would resound again.

When tears streamed down their faces and their voices were hoarse from laughing, they both stood up to collect themselves. The awkward silence was broken by Harry's now raspy, but still so sexy voice.

"I always thought I would've ended up on top in these types of situations." A sideways glance was given to emphasize his statement.

This comment caught the Slytherin unawares. Blonde hair rose slowly from being bent over to grab a renegade sock. Some unknown emotion twisted Draco's features and rallied his feet into movement. Sock forgotten, Malfoy stomped towards Harry with a purpose. His hands grasped Harry's still unprepared shoulders and slammed him up against a tree so hard his head would have a nice new bruise on it the following day. The fear playing in Harry's emerald pools only egged Draco on further.

Draco spat words in his face through clenched teeth, "God I hate you so much." He reiterated with a hearty shake of Harry's torso. "I hate you so fucking much for making me like you, you bastard."

Their lips were smashed together by Draco, finally able to release his inner desire.

Author's Note: I hope you liked the first part! Please review and let me know if you liked it or not. I'm new to FanFiction and a bit rusty as I haven't written in awhile. (: