Draco sat on the far side of the lake in the dark, just breathing in... and out... in... and out...
“Draco!”
Blast.
Draco groaned as he saw Harry Potter doing some sort of ridiculous happy, bouncey, walk towards him.
“I’m busy Potter,” he drawled. “Go bother someone else.”
He felt his stomach clench with guilt at the kicked and wounded expression Potter gave him.
“Fine,” he sighed, needlessly scooting over a little. “Please, make yourself at home.”
He turned his gaze back towards the lake but he felt Potters smile aimed at him as he lay back in the spot beside him.
“Whatcha doin?”
Draco scoffed, what was he? A five year old? Even after the drinks he’d consumed surely he can speak more eloquently than that.
“What I am doing, Potter, is none of your business,” he said cooly.
The insufferable Gryffindor just rolled on to his side, propping his head up with his hand, and grinned at him.
Insufferable.
“Are you mad at me?”
“For me to be mad at you right now would mean I was ever not mad at you to start with,” Draco huffed. “So yes and no- I’m mad but I’m always mad at you so,” he shrugged for effect.
But Merlin, Potter could kill a man with those pathetic puppy eyes.
Perhaps he could have tried that on Voldemort- just saved them all ages of pain and scores of deaths. Looked at him with those big green eyes so sadly and watched the noseless bastard just disintegrate in to ashes.
“I don’t- I don’t know why,” Potter mumbled, staring at the grass by his empty hand. “I just- I guess I thought it was different between us now.”
“So did I!” Draco snapped. “But clearly I was wrong, wasn’t I?”
“Draco,” Harry whined, whined, “I don’t understand. Can you please just tell me what I did wrong?”
God he was oblivious.
“You! You and Blaise!” He burst angrily, tearing up a fistful of grass. “He was all over you and you were just laughing and touching him.”
He glared defiantly at the ground, embarrassed by how upset he was over it. He risked a peek over at Potter though when the silence went on too long.
He looked like a fish. A very unattractive fish. Not a cute green eyed one.
“Hey,” Harry said slowly. “Blaise and I are just friends. I was pushing him away when he was being gross. That’s it.”
Draco snorted.
“I’m so sure,” he drawled. “Why would you push him away? Blaise is fit, funny, smart, and a perfect fit for the famed hero of Britain.”
Harry sat up and hugged his knees to his chest.
“Are-are you breaking up with me?” He asked weakly. “Because I swear I don’t wanna be with Blaise. I want to be with you. I wanted to tell him that I’m yours but I didn’t want you to be mad.”
Draco’s stomach did that now-familiar flutter when Harry said ‘I’m yours’.
“We aren’t together Har-Potter, it’s just sex, remember? You’re free to ‘date’ whoever you want and I’m confident that you don’t want me.”
“Drake, why are you being like this?”
Draco very carefully did not pay attention to the heat that pooled in his stomach at Potters ridiculous nickname for him. And he did not think about the last time he heard him saying it- at the top of his lungs in the Room of Requirement.
He looked over at the stubborn, oblivious, Gryffindor prat and felt shame replace the previous heat.
Pot- Harry’s eyes were glassy and even as he stared at him he saw a single small tear stream down his cheek.
“Forget it,” Harry choked out. “I’m not gonna beg you for a relationship. I just thought- well, I guess I dunno what I thought. You didn’t promise me anything, right? Stupid me for thinking otherwise.”
He got to his feet, hastily wiping at his face, and turned to walk off when Draco quickly grabbed his arm.
“Hey, no, listen,” he stammered. “I didn’t mean to make you upset.”
Gods he hated seeing him cry.
“Stay, I’m sorry.”
Harry sat back down slowly, a little further away from Draco than he was before, and wrapped his arms around himself defensively.
“I’m not a charity case Drake, if you don’t want to be with me then you can go be with someone else.”
Harry tried to sound cool and uncaring, but Draco could see the defensive tightening in his eyes and the faint quiver in his lips.
He’d always been a terrible liar.
But Draco could make an effort to be honest with him.
“Harry, you shouldn’t be with me,” he said quietly, avoiding Harry’s intense gaze. “You should be with someone like fuckin’ Zabini. You deserve better than me.”
“Does it matter what I want?” Harry asked softly. “Because I want you.”
Draco looked at him and saw Harry was gazing at him in that earnest way he had. His emotions were always so easily read through his eyes.
“Why?” Draco asked him.
Even when he just thought Harry wanted him for a few shags, it didn’t make sense.
Harry was beautiful. Smart. Powerful. Kind. Charismatic. Brave. And wonderful.
He deserved the world and Draco was hardly a moss covered pebble in the bottom of an ocean.
“Because you’re amazing. You’re smart, and funny, and you work so hard to make up for things that you were made to do and I think that makes you courageous. You didn’t have to come back this year, but you did. You didn’t have to apologize to every student you came across, but you did. I just- I want to be with you.”
And here Draco thought Harry was ineloquent.
He lent towards Harry, wrapping his hand behind his head.
“I’m going to kiss you,” he murmured. “Stop me now.”
“Never,” Harry whispered back, surging forward to catch his mouth with his own.
And Merlin, kissing Harry could clear every thought in his head.
Harry moved his mouth from Draco’s mouth to his neck. He kissed down the side of it so softly, his breath leaving a hot trail that made Draco shudder.
“I’m going to put up privacy wards, tell me now if you want to move inside,” he whispered, his words hot against Dracos neck.
“Mm,” Draco whined, desire making him impulsive. “Do it.”
Harry flicked his wand and put the wards around them- ensuring they couldn’t be seen or heard.
Draco peeled Harry’s jumper off him, laying him on his back and admired his body.
Gods he was fit.
Harry grinned up at him and waved his hand towards him, vanishing his shirt and tie.
“Wandless magic, you’re cheating Potter,” he drawled around kissing his chest.
Harry arched his back up, letting out a breathy whine that went straight to Draco’s groin.
“Draaaake, please,” he cried, his voice breathy and sexy.
“What do you want darling?” Draco asked him, slowly pulling his trousers down. “Tell me what you want.”
Harry propped himself up with his elbows, his pupils blown wide as he watched Draco taking off his own trousers.
“Fuck,” Harry breathed.
Draco laid across Harry, rubbing their bodies against each other.
“That’s why we’re here, right?” he smirked.
***
Hours later, they lay together on the grass, wrapped up in each other’s bare arms, and Draco was completely at peace.
The sun was rising, Harry Potter was his boyfriend, and he could not possibly feel more content.
Which Harry immediately ruined when he asked, “Can I tell my friends about us now?”