He's just a coworker
Draco was lounging on the couch, his arm still a bit stiff from their last mission. He had a book balanced on his lap and a steaming cup of tea on the table beside him. The flat was quiet, save for the occasional crackle of the fire in the hearth.
The sudden knock at the door startled him. He frowned, glancing at the clock. It was nearly ten—hardly a time for visitors.
With a sigh, Draco set the book down and made his way to the door. When he opened it, Orion stood there, holding a pizza box in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other, his trademark grin firmly in place.
“Veyne,” Draco said, raising an eyebrow. “Do you even know how to knock at a reasonable hour?”
“Nope,” Orion said cheerfully, stepping inside uninvited. “Thought you might need some company. Or at least some decent food.”
Draco closed the door, watching as Orion made himself at home, setting the pizza and wine on the coffee table.
“I wasn’t aware I invited you,” Draco muttered, though there was no real heat in his tone.
“You didn’t,” Orion replied, shrugging off his jacket and tossing it over a chair. “But I figured you’d be here sulking, and I couldn’t let that happen.”
“I wasn’t sulking,” Draco said defensively, following him back to the living room.
“Sure you weren’t,” Orion said, opening the pizza box and grabbing a slice. He gestured to the wine. “Grab some glasses, will you?”
Draco huffed but went to fetch two wine glasses. When he returned, Orion was already halfway through his first slice, his boots kicked up on the edge of the coffee table.
“You’re impossible,” Draco muttered, pouring the wine and handing a glass to Orion.
“I prefer ‘charmingly persistent,’” Orion said with a wink.
They ate in comfortable silence for a while, the smell of pizza mingling with the warmth of the fire. Draco found himself relaxing more than he expected, the tension of the day easing away.
“You know,” Orion said, breaking the quiet, “your place is weirdly cozy for someone who acts like they’ve got a broomstick permanently stuck up their—”
“Careful,” Draco warned, though his lips twitched in amusement.
Orion laughed, leaning back against the couch. “I mean it. You’ve got good taste, Malfoy. Didn’t expect that.”
“Why does everyone assume I have terrible taste?” Draco asked, exasperated.
“Because you have resting snob face,” Orion said matter-of-factly. “And you used to walk around Hogwarts like you were better than everyone else.”
Draco rolled his eyes. “That was years ago.”
“Doesn’t matter. First impressions stick.”
Draco sipped his wine, shaking his head. “And what’s my impression of you, then?”
Orion grinned. “Ruggedly handsome, undeniably charming, with just the right amount of mystery.”
Draco snorted into his glass. “You’re insufferable.”
“And yet, here I am,” Orion said, his tone teasing but his eyes warm.
Draco didn’t respond right away, focusing instead on the fire crackling in the hearth. Despite Orion’s relentless energy, there was something grounding about his presence.
“Thanks,” Draco said quietly, surprising even himself.
Orion raised an eyebrow. “For the pizza? Or just for being me?”
Draco smirked, shaking his head. “For this. For showing up.”
Orion’s grin softened into something more genuine. “Anytime, Malfoy. Anytime.”
~
The soft light of dawn filtered through the curtains, casting a golden glow over Draco’s living room. Draco stood in the kitchen, sipping his tea as he watched Orion sprawled on his couch, still asleep. The remnants of their impromptu pizza and wine night lay scattered on the coffee table, a bottle tipped slightly but unspilled.
Orion looked entirely at ease, one arm draped over his face while the other rested on his chest, rising and falling steadily with his breaths. His shirt was slightly rumpled, the top two buttons undone, revealing just a hint of a well-toned chest. His hair, which usually seemed perfectly tousled in that maddening way, was now genuinely messy, strands falling into his face.
Draco frowned, forcing himself to look away and focus on his tea.
It’s just Orion, he thought. He’s always like this. Overly confident, endlessly irritating…
But the thought didn’t stick. He glanced back at the couch, and his frown deepened. In the stillness of the morning, without the usual smirk or biting wit, Orion looked different. Softer, somehow.
Draco’s gaze lingered on the way the light caught in Orion’s dark hair, the faint glow of his skin, the sharp line of his jaw. His lips, slightly parted in sleep, looked surprisingly…
Draco swallowed hard and turned away again, gripping the edge of the counter as though it could ground him.
Merlin’s beard, what is wrong with me?
The sound of movement behind him made him stiffen. A groggy voice broke the silence. “You’re staring, Malfoy.”
Draco nearly dropped his tea. He turned quickly, schooling his features into a scowl. “I wasn’t staring,” he snapped.
Orion sat up, his hair even messier than before, rubbing at his eyes. His shirt had slipped further open, and Draco had to work very hard not to notice.
“Sure you weren’t,” Orion said with a smirk, though his voice was still thick with sleep. “What time is it?”
“Too early for your nonsense,” Draco muttered, turning back to the counter and focusing on pouring himself more tea.
Orion stretched, the movement drawing Draco’s unwilling gaze again. His arms were lean but strong, his shirt riding up slightly to reveal a strip of skin above his waistband.
“You always this grumpy in the morning, or is that just for me?” Orion asked, his voice teasing.
“Only for you,” Draco replied sharply, though the edge in his tone was weaker than he’d intended.
Orion chuckled, standing and making his way to the kitchen. He leaned casually against the counter, far too close for Draco’s comfort.
“Tea for two?” Orion asked, peering into the pot.
Draco glared at him but handed over a cup. Orion accepted it with a grin, their fingers brushing briefly in the exchange. Draco pulled his hand back quickly, trying to ignore the warmth that lingered.
Orion took a sip, watching Draco over the rim of the cup. “You’re acting weird this morning.”
“I’m not,” Draco said quickly, avoiding his gaze.
“Hmm.” Orion didn’t press the issue, but his smirk said he wasn’t convinced.
Draco busied himself with tidying up the counter, trying to ignore the way Orion’s presence seemed to fill the room.
He’s just a coworker, Draco told himself firmly. An irritating, smug, infuriating coworker. And that’s all.
But deep down, he wasn’t so sure anymore.