Jam!porn is ... indecipherable. But I wanted frotting. And fluff. And I WANTED TO WRITE! So, this is what happens when I'm needy and sitting outside in my mother's orchard. And the day is all sunny and warm. I'm ONE with nature, man! I'm also a sap. So here's quite pointless sap. (I was writing this the entire day. O.O *collapses* I'm actually very happy with it, but I am, you know, extra sappy and woozy. /a lame attempt at justification) All typos are intentional. (Okay, okay, they're not.)

Fandom: Harry Potter
Disclaimer: Harry Potter is owned by J.K. Rowling and Warner Brothers. No copyright infringement intended.
Title: Worshipped
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: ~900
Status: Complete
Summary: Harry wonders whether Draco knows how Harry feels. Draco is kinda silly like that too. They're both silly and sappy, and that is, at least, an accurate summary if not a very enticing one.
Warnings: FLUFF, FLUFF, FLUFF. Also, sap.
Note: Written for awdt's prompt Shut, key, red, ocean, sour.

Harry never expected this.

He never thought he would be worshipped like this while he lay down on the soft blanket that was placed carefully on the still damp grass — freshly mowed and filling the air with the sweet scent, as the warmth of the morning sun struggled to dry it.

The air was humid, but an occasional breeze swayed the tree branches above him, making stray sprinkles of water, left strewed upon the trees by the night's rain, shimmer on the leaves; like precious gems gleaming white amidst the green. Harry shivered with them, not so much from the cold that was cooling the exposed skin of his chest, but more from the touch of soft fingers that trailed lazy circles over his stomach.

The sparkling leaves had nothing on the glimmer of bright blond hair that framed the face that Harry grew to love. The long strands softened the sharp features, making the pale skin shine with it; or perhaps that was a simple illusion. Perhaps it was merely the adoring look in the grey eyes that made Harry feel like he was looking straight into the sun.

The fingertips on his stomach moved upwards, over muscle and skin, pausing at the sensitive brown peak that hardened immediately underneath the soft touch. Full lips followed the progress of teasing fingers, the gentle kisses audible and wet; making Harry dig his heels into the ground, so he could raise his hips in a silent plea, though he was hardly aware he was doing so.

The light became too bright and Harry shut his eyes as hot mouth closed around one of his nipples, sucking lightly, but with increasing intensity. Sensations ran through him — a powerful mix of wishing this would rush forward to its completion and hoping that the feeling would linger and never end. The lips moved to deliver scorching kisses over Harry's neck — open-mouthed kisses, combined with a sharp edge of teeth and skilful swipes of a wicked tongue, as eager to entice Harry as they were intent on marking his skin. Soft hair tickled Harry's jaw, and he inhaled deeply — the alluring whiff of pine-scented shampoo assaulting Harry's senses, making him feel like he was somewhere near the ocean. He even thought that he could feel the waves crashing as weight settled between his thighs, pressing down firmly and then easing off; but they were waves of pleasure, threatening to take him away and make him lose himself as they drove him towards his peak.

Harry wanted this to last, so he stilled his hips, capturing the body above him with his legs in attempt to slow things down. But his treacherous hands sneaked lower to slide beneath the soft fabric and touch the sweat-slicked skin of the delicately curved spine. The panting man above him shuddered, speeding up his moments; hips circling and pressing unceasingly. Harry reached even lower to cup and knead hard mounds of the man's buttocks, still clad in trousers; but a faint moan told Harry his touch was appreciated nonetheless. It became too much and Harry pressed the man closer too him, holding the warm, trembling body in a desperate grip, as his toes curled and pleasure spread through him, wrenching a cry from his lips.

He lay still, trying to catch his breath, gasping and shivering from aftershocks that continued to send sparks of pleasure through his body. When he opened his eyes, the sky was still clear and blue above him; an occasional maple key spinning like a helicopter on the wind, graciously evading them and falling somewhere beyond Harry's sight, as though unwilling to disturb the peace of the two motionless figures lying on the grass.

The blond head rose and grey eyes looked down on him, and Harry again wondered at this change. Long gone was the sour-tempered, insolent youth, only to be replaced by a man with loving eyes and easy smiles. But as he stared up at the flushed cheeks and lips — almost looking red after their dedicated adoration of Harry's body — he couldn't care less about why this happened, he could only feel grateful it had.

Harry reached up to tuck away a stray lock of hair behind an ear, but the motion turned out to be in vain because Draco leaned in to press his lips to Harry's, and the disobedient lock fell on Harry's cheek, tickling him mercilessly. The slow kiss still felt like a wondrous exploration, even though this was hardly their first, and it still made the feeling of absolute contentment settle deep within Harry, reminding him that he had never expected this. Never expected to lie down to be teased with endless kisses and caresses, until he forgot where he was and forgot that the sun was the one giving light. Harry wondered whether Draco knew what he was doing to him. Did he know that every touch and every kiss felt like worship? Felt like love?

Draco lifted his head again and looked down with a smile.

The wind dried the sweat of their bodies, and Harry's hearing returned though he didn't remember losing it, but the rustling of leaves seemed louder and Draco's breathing seemed more like gasping, and Harry thought he could hear Draco's heart beating against his chest.

"What?" Harry asked, after Draco showed no intention of letting his smile slip, but continued to gaze down with an indecipherable expression.

"You," Draco said reverently, leaning for another long, more passionate kiss, startling Harry with the sudden intensity, leaving him breathless like a teenager after his first kiss. "You make me feel ..." Draco paused and considered, and then, looking amazed and grateful, concluded, "Worshipped."