Prompt:

"I keep yanking people's faces to mine and I think they're all misinterpreting it as some sort of abrupt nearly-kiss, but really I just broke my glasses and am trying to make sure they're human. I don't know how I'm going to explain this to anyone, so for now I think I'll just enjoy the excuse to stare into various people's eyes."

Pinned

The first time it happened, Draco was left shaken. 

"What the fuck—" his high pitched squawk rang through the hallway as he was whirled around with a sudden pull of his robes. Before he could even comprehend what in Salazar's name was going on, he found himself pinned snugly against an enormous window, staring widely at a set of blazing green eyes as students passed them by, or, judging by the complete silence that had fallen around them, stood and stared openly at the sudden development.

"Who are you?" the person in front of him asked, finally deciding to speak while taking a dangerous step closer towards Draco, and while Draco's brain did recognise who those vivid eyes belonged to, the sudden lack of personal space between their bodies had left him quite, well, disoriented . He watched dumbfounded as the green eyes squinted back at him, as if Draco had some sort of dirt on his face that needed to be examined further  — which was highly unlikely, really! He kept his person neat and clean, thank you very much — before moving in even closer; just a couple more inches and they would be kissing for Sala —

"The fuck, Potter ?!" The sudden mental image of them indulging in all sorts of inappropriate behaviours seemed to finally break Draco out from his sudden dysfunctional state, and he tried and failed miserably to stumble away from the bastard. He was pinned to a fucking window. And Potter had also somehow gotten his hand around Draco's neck without him noticing and was refusing to let go . 

He watched Potter's face break into a look of pure innocent confusion, "Malfoy?" the git asked like he was seeing him for the first time in his life.

"Yes, Malfoy! What in Godric's hell do you think you're doing?!" Draco hissed as he yanked himself away from his grip, stepping sideways to get himself out of the inappropriate position as gracefully as he could muster. 

"Ohh, it is you, Malfoy," Potter spoke as he took another bumbly step towards him, his face breaking into a sheepish smile that made Draco flinch, "I couldn’t tell ." 

"You couldn’t — what?" Draco enquired while trying to gather his sanity, which had no doubt fallen out of him the second this shitshow had started; his face still aflame from their recent.... contact.

"I couldn’t tell if it was you ," Potter explained while staring at him with the same stupid smile, "I lost my glasses, you see," he said pointing at his face. And it was only then that Draco noticed the absence of the hideous round framed disgrace on top of Potter's nose. 

The lack of the wonky frames made Potter's face look, different , Draco noted. His eyes appeared to have turned a shade brighter without the sheen of glass to cover them up, and with shock Draco noticed that the righteous bastard actually had long, long lashes that framed his green orbs rather beautifully. With every flutter, the eyelashes seemed to skim over the top of his cheeks, casting a thin shadow that made hi — 

"C-can't you just accio them?" Draco forced himself to sputter out, bringing an end to his train of thought that was taking an alarming turn. He took another step back from the glasses-less idiot just for safety. 

"You do realise that you are, in fact, a bloody wizard , Potter? Who defeated a dark lord? With a wand?" he conducted, still trying his best to recover. What in the name of Merlin was he doing, thinking of Potter's eyes like that in his presence? Those were strictly his personal night time thoughts that had no right to come out in daylight. He must still be in shock from the surprise Potter gave him. Yes, that must be it. 

While Draco drilled and scolded his brain for failing him as it did, Potter, the fool , seemed to be completely unaffected by the whole situation; shrugging halfheartedly at Draco's comment, "I tried. They never showed up." 

"Then buy a pair of new ones, you plank!" Draco said, the look of exasperation on his face. 

"I would've, but Hogsmeade weekend is still 6 days away. I was thinking about getting a new frame, you know. Change up the look a bit," Potter conversed while motioning towards his face. It wasn’t like they were still on the bitter nemesis phase — the war did change that between them — but watching Potter talk to him like Draco was his friend was still something the blonde wasn't quite used to, even if it had been months since Potter had started doing it.

Draco, again being too lost in his inner monologue, missed the way Potter stumbled forward while talking, steading himself with a hand on Draco's shoulder at the last minute.  

"Sorry," he grinned. "My eyesight is terrible ."

"No kidding," Draco muttered, staring at him blankly. "You do know that you are allowed to leave the castle grounds at reasonable hours, being an eighth year, yes?"

"I do, but what's the fun in that?" Potter shrugged again, "I want to go when everyone else is going." 

"Of course," Draco stated. "But, pray tell, why did you yank me back just now?"

" Oh ," Potter seemed to brighten up another notch at the question, giving him a blistering smile. "I thought you were someone else."

"You thought I was someone else?" Draco repeated.

"Yes," Potter nodded solemnly. "I thought you were Luna," he explained.

"You thought I was Lovegood?" Draco questioned, sounding equally confused and scandalized at the prospect. "You do realise Lovegood is a female?"  

"Yes, I am aware of that." 

"And you do realise that I am, in fact, a male? With a different body structure and form?" 

"I also know that, yes."

"She is, like, this tall," Draco said, raising his hand up to his chest.

"I know that too."

"Then how the fuc — never mind!" Draco sputtered before pinching his nose. "Next time, please try to ask the person of their identity before smashing them across a hard surface," he stated irritatingly as a new blush found its way to his cheeks, remembering the position they were in a couple of seconds ago. His back was sure to bruise. 

"While most may be thrilled at the prospect, some of us like their personal space, Potter," he sniffed, looking away from the man.

"Sorry, Malfoy," Potter apologised sheepishly. "You have nice eyes though! Very grey!" 

Potter's sudden offhand comment made all the blood rush towards his face once more, making him sputter while the man smiled at him. 

He stared at Potter for a good two seconds before whirling himself away, "G-goodbye, Potter," he said, leaving before he could embarrass himself any further.

Potter, the idiotic prat , actually waved him farewell. 

The second time it happened , Draco was scared shitless. 

The potions class for the returning eight years was nothing if not boring for him; mostly repeating potions from their earlier years — which Draco had mastered when he was like a baby , really — that held zero excitement. He always finished his work early, but instead of getting the permission to be excused, Slughorn always held him back, so that he could 'assist' the professor in helping the rest of the class. He was tired of trying to deal with the same sets of mistakes made by everyone, everytime — Longbottom had yet to understand that fluttering his pretty eyelashes apologetically at his ruined cauldron isn’t going to make it right any day — and it was getting on his nerves. 

At least the class was Potter free for the time being. 

Potter had seen fit to sit beside Draco in potions since the start of the year, claiming that the rest of his friends were already paired up . It was a critical test on his nerves; dealing with the continuous babbling of the raven haired man while concentrating on the work at hand, but Draco managed. He had begrudgingly admitted to himself after a point that, when Potter was not being a total nuisance, he could be somewhat okay company. His voice was just soothing like that. Helped Draco focus when he let it. 

But now with the glasses gone and the git refusing any sort of temporary sight enhancing potions or spells given to him — saying 'they make my eyes twitchy!' — he was excused from potions for the rest of the week. 

If anyone asked Draco, he would say that Potter was only looking for an excuse to skip classes, and when the opportunity struck, the git grabbed it with glee . Draco didn’t understand why he needed to do such a thing in the first place, with the whole school being half in love with his golden ass after the war. If he so much as asked, little Sluggy would've given him a free period without even blinking. Potter was an idiot .  

Muttering obscene insults towards the formerly specky git, Draco decided to take the longer, more subdued way towards the library. The school wasn’t yet used to his or any of the other handful of returning Slytherins' presence in the castle, so Draco mostly avoided crowded areas whenever he could. He would prefer to not get a stinging hex on his back every time he walked the grounds. 

He had kept his head low after the war. He even made some sort of peace — if you could call it that — with most of the returning eighth years. He had a good, civilized talk with Granger and even a stiff little conversation with Weasley that had ended with an understanding nod from both sides. Hell, he even apologised to Longbottom for everything he had done in the past. Draco was half sure he was going to be sent to Azkaban with his family before, so it was a surprise when Potter spoke for them at his and his mother's trial, saving both of them from that horrible sickly place. 

He supposed he should've said a thank you to Potter as well, with an apology alongside it. But Draco's pride could only take so much after everything. And besides, Potter was alright with him not saying anything. The git already had his flock of fans showering him with gratitude wherever he went. He didn’t need Draco's thank you's or apologies. He didn’t. 

Thinking of such rubbish, he took a turn left to exit the dark empty hallway when he was suddenly pulled backwards with a hand on his elbow. The next thing he knew, he was being shoved roughly against the stone cold walls and being pinned there with two very strong hands at each side of his head. 

The bone shattering panic that seized his body began to melt slowly as he took in the familiar green eyes, just mere inches away from his face. Salazar they were standing close . 

"Po—" the words turned into mush in his mouth as the searing panic replaced itself with a blazing blush that ran through his body, and in the dark he was sure he saw a smirk graze Potter's lips. He could feel Potter's breath on his chin.

"Who are you?" Potter inquired just as before while taking a dangerous step towards him, flushing their bodies together from chest to toe. This was not good. 

"Me-Merlin's ars —" Draco sputtered while trying to steady his breathing, his heart hammering wildly in his chest. "Potter?!"  

Hearing his name Potter tilted his head, "Malfoy?" the man enquired, just as last time. He had yet to step away from Draco.

"W-who else, you blind hippogriff!" Draco squawked, his hands trembling at his sides.

"Ohh, it is you! Hi, again," Potter beamed at him. The blush Draco wore increased by a mile. 

"W-what the fuck is your problem?" Draco enquired, already knowing the answer Potter was going to give him.  

"I couldn’t tell if —"

"You couldn’t tell if it was me, yes. I had gathered as much the last time." Draco finished for him in irritation. 

"Well I had to make sure ," Potter grinned  again, and Draco had the sudden urge to smack him upside the head.

"Well, it's me. Now that you are done making sure, can you please, kindly, step away?" Draco bit out as he stared at the wall opposite him, avoiding Potter's gaze.

"Ohh," Potter said as if he had just realised he was pressed against Draco to the wall, taking a reluctant step back. "Sorry, Malfoy." 

"This is worse than deja-vu," Draco muttered as he straightened his robes and got his breathing back to normal. Potter kept on smiling at him the whole time.

"Where were you going?" Potter asked when Draco was thinking of leaving, and he stopped short to stare at the man. 

"To the library, of course. Some of us do need to study, Potter," he sniffed. "You would—"

"Great! Can I come with?"  

What?

"What?" Draco asked, flabbergasted.

"I said, can I come with you? To the library?" Potter asked again, his hands now nestled deep in his pockets.

"You want to come to the library?" Draco repeated. 

"Yes."

"With me? "

"I believe I said that already but, yes." 

Draco looked at him in exasperation. "But, why?"  

"To study, of course," was Potter's bland reply.

"You don't have your glasses. How do you even expec—" 

"You can just read stuff to me."  

Draco stared.

Potter, the slimy git , smiled. 

The third time it happened, Draco was left suspicious.

"What's your game, Potter?" he asked calmly as Potter's face floated an inch away from him. Draco was this time ambushed while taking a stroll around the grounds; Potter popping up out of nowhere and forcing himself onto Draco yet again in the most unnatural manner. It was mostly Draco's fault really, he had been so lost in his thoughts that he barely noticed the presence of the green eyed baboon behind him, and now he was facing the fate of being squished in between a Potter and a very very uncomfortable oak tree. 

But that was not the point of this inner monologue. Potter was up to something. After their second proximity incident, Draco had taken special care to note the specky git's whereabouts and behaviour; watching him with the corner of his eye whenever he could. And in his observation, he had noticed that while Potter did fumble around like a blind fool without his glasses, not once, once , did he pull anyone as close to his eye level to confirm their identity. It seemed that Potter  most of the time just ignored the face of anyone he was close to. He could even pick out which was the Weasel and which was the Weaslette, even with both of them sprouting the same sort of short, red hair. 

He had also taken to asking Pansy for help, because if anyone knew about the latest gossip surrounding Boy Wonder, she would be the one. And as it turned out, there were no rumours floating about the castle that Potter had smashed his face up with some miserable cow's. It was only Draco. Only him.

"My game?" Potter's voice broke Draco out of his little trance, and Draco did his best to give the man a glare with the blush he was sprouting. It was unnatural, being this close to him. 

"Yes, your game , Potter. What is it? This is the third time it has happened. Surely you couldn’t have made the same mistake three times in four days? You surely can't be that blind." 

"I know, I didn’t think this would happen a third time either but, well, here we are," Potter said with a shrug of his shoulder. 

"What are you doing here?" Draco enquired, turning his face away; focusing his attention towards the falling leaves around them. If he let himself look too closely at the current position he was in, things would get hard. 

"I was just out for a walk," Potter replied.

"With eyesight like yours, shouldn’t you be staying indoors, Potter? We wouldn’t want the boy who lived to fall into the Great Lake." 

Potter cooed at him for that. "Are you worried about me, Malfoy?" he asked in a teasing manner, taking another dangerous step closer to him. Merlin's —  

"A-a-s if ! I am more w-worried about my eardrums! They won't be able to take the wails of your little fanclub after you drown to death." 

"Ohh, we can't have that now can we?"

"Shut up." 

"Your hair's gotten prettier," Potter said in a form of conversation, "I like how fluffy it is now. You should leave it like that more." His fingers skimmed over the edge of Draco's fringe as he talked.

Draco stared at him as if he had grown a second head. 

Potter, the insufferable bastard, actually laughed at him.

The fourth time it happened, Draco was speechless.  

Potter had now ambushed him in an empty bathroom. Draco was just about to leave after washing his hands when Potter barged in taking a look at Draco, and backing him up towards the sink in one swift motion. Draco tried to make a narrow escape this time, he truly did. But he had failed rather miserably — the git was really quick on his feet —  and was now stuck in a very horrifying position between Potter and the sink. Their whole lower bodies were touching. All of it.

"H-how could you p-possibly do this the fourth time Potter!?" Draco all but wailed. " Fourth time! Do you even see anything with those goddamn eyes of yours I—" 

"Well I had to make sure it was you, Malfoy," Potter said in his usual carefree drawl. The bastard surely had some sort of face fetish, Draco was sure of it. The way he was leaning over Draco suggested nothing but that. It had to be that. 

"Well, now that you've made sure it's me, kindly piss off?" Draco snapped at him as he tried to maintain every inch of distance as he could. This was not good for his mental state. He was already having dream after dream where Potter backed him up towards various hard objects before doing terrible, terrible things to him. Draco was going to lose his mind if this continued. 

"When are you getting your glasses?" he asked. 

"Tomorrow?" 

"Thank Merli —"

"Speaking of," Potter paused. "I wanted to ask you something. I need your help."

"What can you possibly ask of me?" Draco stared at him suspiciously. Maybe now Potter would go ahead and reveal the evil plan that he had spawned all along. Maybe he would say that he was actually doing this to get bac— 

"Come to Hogsmeade with me tomorrow?" 

It took a minute for the words to sink in. 

"What!?"

"Come to Hogsmeade with me tomorrow," Potter repeated, eyeing him patiently. 

"Are you on some sort of potion ?" Draco spoke slowly, taking a closer look at Potter's face. "Are you drunk? Someone spiked your food? Don't tell me you are on one of those weird muggle dru—" 

"No, no no ! God Draco!" Potter said, sounding exasperated, "I'm completely fine. So, Hogsmeade tomorrow?"

"But why?" Draco asked in utter confusion. 

"To help me pick out my glasses , you idiot," Potter replied, giving him a pointed look.

"D-don't you have friends for that, Potter?"

Potter still kept giving him that look, "I do." 

"Well then take them with you! I am sure your little group of birds can easily manag—" 

"You know, Malfoy," Potter spoke over him with a sigh of pure defeat, "for a person with clear eyesight, you sure are fucking blind!" he finished with a grunt while running a hand over his face.

Draco's eyes widened at the accusation.

"Excuse me?!" he sputtered indignantly, pushing his nose up high. "I'll have you know that the Malfoy's ar— mmpph!"  the rest of the words died in his throat as Potter's lips crashed onto his own, causing all sorts of alarms to start ringing inside his head.

This felt way too much like the dreams he got. This surely was —

His thoughts were cut off as Potter's teeth sunk softly on his bottom lip, and Draco couldn’t help the pleased whimper that escaped his mouth at the sensation. And judging by the humming sound Potter made at the noise, he was quite pleased as well. 

Potter's hand slowly crept up to his neck as the man moved even closer, now almost tipping Draco over the sink, kissing him thoroughly as he went.

Salazar's arse, he was being kissed by Harry Potter. 

After a second, or an hour — Draco couldn't be bothered to tell — Potter finally seemed to have enough of him; stepping away from Draco with one final smooch on his lips, the sound of it echoing throughout the bathroom as he gave Draco a rather pleased look. 

"So, Hogsmeade tomorrow ?" he asked him once more as he looked at Draco with a shy smile. Potter looked thoroughly kissed; with swollen lips and messy raven hair. There was a drabble of spit running down the side of his chin that Draco couldn’t help but wipe away with his thumb.

Potter, in all his 'just kissed' glory, took that as a yes.

The fifth time it happened, Draco knew he was fucked.

They were at a muggle inspired spectacles shop that sold all sorts of magically enhanced glasses; the rave of such things starting after Potter became the poster boy of the wizarding world. Sight enhancing potions were put on the back shelves as the fashion world ate up the whole wonky disaster look that Potter sprouted, and now, everyone and anyone could be seen wearing those pitiful glasses up their nose. As if those would make them look like the golden git. 

The shop owner had been thrilled when he saw it was none other than Harry Potter stepping over his little threshold, swooning like a twelve year old girl at every word that left Potter's mouth. With the way his head was bobbing furiously at everything Potter said, Draco was sure the man was going to sprain his neck muscles at any given moment. Bloody fangirls. Draco grunted in irritation.

"What do you think of this one, Draco?" Potter said flashing him a devastating smile while sporting a thick square looking frame on top of his nose. And as much as Draco liked the sodding bastard, he scoffed.

"No! They look worse than the nightmares I have. Take them off at once ," he said as he held his nose high in the air. 

"This is the fifth pair you rejected, Draco," Potter eyed him in exasperation. 

"Well I can't help if your choice in attire is this bad," Draco sniffed. 

"I brought you along to help me pick a pair of glasses, Malfoy. Not to reject every single one I try!" 

"Ohh?" Draco said, turning towards the man who was smiling rather warmly at him. "Is this the only reason you bought me along then?" he asked while taking a step towards him, Potter's grin widening at the closing distance between. 

"You very well know it's not," Potter said, eying him fondly. "So, which one should I pick?" he held up two other horrific looking pairs of glasses in his hand that made Draco want to vomit. 

"None of those, that's for sure," Draco said wrinkling his nose. 

"Oh come on! We'll be here all day if you keep this up," Potter spoke with a grunt. 

"Well if you insist on picking out the worst possible choices, then surely we will. None of these suit you!" Draco countered, before looking away stiffly. "Maybe you should just, stick to the old pair you had," he mumbled as he eyed the simple black wired rims on the shelves, his face turning a soft shade of pink when he caught on to the devilish smirk spreading on Potter's lips. 

" You ," Potter said, taking a dangerous step towards him. "Like my old glasses." He poked a finger on Draco's chest.

"I said no such thing!" Draco sputtered, his chest hammering wildly again at their close proximity. They were in public for goodness sake. The shop owner was staring at them with wide eyes. 

"Admit it!" Potter prodded as he stepped even closer, his face an inch away from him, "or I'll buy that hideous square one."

"You will most certainly not!" Draco pronounced.  

"Then maybe you should tell the truth," Potter injected.

"Maybe you should just stop talking." Draco countered back.

"Maybe you should admit you like my old glasses."

"Maybe I just like you!" The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them.

Draco stared at Porter, horrified as the smirk on the idiot's face grew. 

And instead of laughing at Draco's face, the sodding bastard just kissed him on the spot.