Pairing: Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy
Word Count: 1000
Written for: hp_may_madness 2017 Day 10: "There’s been a dream of mine for a while…I wish it would come true", fire, faith, food, voyeurism (mentioned)
Summary: Four times in which Draco fails in voicing his thoughts and one time in which he succeeds.
Notes: Late posting (life is hard in every sense), but still hoping you'll like what I wrote :)
Other links: DW/AO3
They’re by the fire, when Draco first tries to voice what had been messing with his mind for a few nights.
“There’s been a dream of mine for a while…” He loses track of his words, because Harry starts kissing the joint between his neck and his shoulder, murmuring low against Draco’s pale and smooth skin.
“Harry…” Draco really wants to talk about it, wants Harry’s full attention.
Raising his head, “Yes?” Harry asks, a quiet murmur in the room. Lights from the fire dances over the shape of his face, mixing perfectly with the brown colour of his skin.
“Can you pay attention?” Draco whispers, as if he’s not sure what he intends to say would come out in any other way. Harry’s hand move from Draco’s back to Draco’s hard cock in his pants, and, well, now Draco isn’t sure he will even remember how to talk.
“I am,” Harry nods against Draco’s neck, “paying attention. Isn’t it clear?” Saying so, he starts moving his hand, creating goosebumps on Draco’s back, making him moan into the living room, over the crackling sound of the fire.
Draco’s already too lost.
Their mornings are almost a ritual.
They wake up, and spend a lot of time kissing and arguing over the breakfast Harry has made – “The bacon is tasteless, Potter,” or “And you call this an egg? It’s more Finnegan’s face after he’s tried to brew a potion.”
In this mess, they also try to dress. Usually, this leads to complete failure and them being late for work, because no matter how much sex they have every day: they’re young, healthy and in love, and they’re allowed to be as restless as they want to be.
Draco alludes at it again while Harry is sucking his cock in the shower. “I’ve been thinking…”
However, Harry seems not to hear over the moans he’s making and the continuous sound of streaming water against Draco’s back. Draco huffs, but Harry sucks harder than before, nose against Draco’s public hair, inhaling the deep, musky scent of Draco’s sex.
Draco is nearly coming, but he knows after that he’ll be too zoned out to even remember his name, and Harry will already be gone to his Auror duties. There won’t be another chance.
“What do y-”
Harry traces the swell of Draco’s balls, and Draco comes.
“I can’t believe it,” Harry mutters, after having jumped into Pansy and Blaise’s pool and returned to the surface.
Draco raises an eyebrow from his chaise lounge, tasting the table beside him to grip at his cocktail. “Do you always complain?”
Harry huffs, approaching the side of the pool. Droplets of water shine between his black curls and beard, making him look as a god. Draco wants so much to kiss him.
“You would complain too, if they accused you of being a voyeurs.”
Draco snorts into his glass. “You are a voyeur.”
Harry waves a hand into the air, water spreading everywhere. “Touché.” A moment of silence passes, before “It’s not like I want to share my kinks with everyone.”
Draco hums. “Talking about kinks…”
“Yes, I’d like so much to fuck you. Right now. In this same pool.” Harry’s suggestion is as casual as anything coming from his mouth would be. It makes Draco squint in his seat in the best way.
“Pansy and Blaise though…”
“I’m not the only one who likes voyeurism,” Harry interrupts him, and with a single move he comes out of the pool, huge cock half hard already.
Draco isn’t going to object.
“I wish it would come true.”
“Are you praying?” Harry says from his side of the bed, tone hilarious. “Didn’t take you for a man of faith.”
“Shut the hell up, Potter,” Draco replies, rolling his eyes as much as he likes, since it’s dark in the room and Harry can’t see him.
“Ha,” Harry snorts, “definitely not praying, then.”
His light mood doesn’t affect Draco at all. He’s pissed and it’s night time, so he can feel pitiful for himself for as long as he wants.
“Should I be worried?” Harry asks, when Draco doesn’t say anything else. They’re about to sleep, Draco doesn’t fucking know where he’s still finding the energy to be such a pain.
“You should,” Draco simply murmurs, but doesn’t add anything else.
Then, he feels Harry moving behind him, and one arm coming up to curl around his chest. “May I know why?” Harry whispers over his shoulder, tone gentler than before.
Draco tries to shake him off of him. “No,” he spits, “but I’ll let you know the date of your murder.”
Harry snorts into his ear. “You need me alive, though,” he says.
They fall asleep like this.
As much as a cliché it could be, Draco shouts it out during an argument.
“I’ve been trying to tell you... this for days, but you and your perfect timing...!”
Harry has both his hands raised in front of his face, as if he’s expecting Draco to throw something at him.
“Is it why you’re being furious right now?” Harry asks him, tone careful. He certainly doesn’t want to screw up more than he did, and Draco almost feels good for making him feel guilty. Almost.
“Yes,” Draco reply without even knowing it. “No!” he corrects himself, but honestly, he doesn’t even remember why they started yelling at each other: he has an headache that could haunt him for weeks.
“Tell me,” Harry says, almost a plea. “Now.” And, well, Draco isn’t that strong.
“I want to fuck you,” he bursts out, and that’s it. Harry keeps looking at him for a whole minute.
“Really,” he comments in a whisper, weighing Draco’s words, as difficult as they could be. “Really?”
Draco nods. They’ve never tried it the other way around, but it’s all Draco have been thinking about for the past few weeks.
Harry burst out in a laugh and quickly approach him. “You’re incredible,” he giggles, before kissing him.