Emotional Affair

emotional affair

written for the @drarrymicrofic prompt “savior complex” | M, 1.1k | thanks @moonstruckwytch for the beta 💕

“I’ll pick you up from the Portkey office,” Harry says quietly, “when you come back.”

Draco, still flushed pink from orgasm, pointedly rolls away from Harry and off the bed. “It’s just three days, for work. It’s not a big deal.”

“I’ll pick you up.”

“You’re not my boyfriend,” Draco spits, sharp and furious. “We’re fucking.”

Closing his eyes, Harry breathes around the ache in his chest.

“I’ll pick you up.”

~

Draco sits pale and tired, curled up in the passenger seat of Harry’s car. The radio plays softly, lyrics unintelligible, and Harry keeps both hands on the wheel.

“I could’ve Apparated,” Draco says, but his tone lacks conviction.

“Apparition sucks after an international Portkey.” Harry keeps his eyes on the pools of streetlight splashed across the dark road; if he looks over towards Draco the terrifying knot of his feelings will overwhelm him.

“I didn’t know you had a car,” Draco says softly after a few moments, shifting in his seat.

“You don’t bother to ask anything about me,” Harry replies levely, and Draco inhales sharply.

“Potter, I can’t–”

“Don’t,” Harry says quietly, suddenly exhausted. “Draco, just don’t, okay? We’re almost to your flat.”

Silence falls. Harry chances a glance across the car, the afterimage of Draco flashing on the back of his eyelids even once he looks away again; pale hair, dark undereye bags, crimson knit jumper.

“Can I come by tomorrow?” Draco asks softly once Harry puts the car in park outside of Draco’s run-down block of flats. Can I come by, the very prim way Draco asks Harry to fuck him. Harry doesn’t reply, staring straight ahead until Draco sighs. “You’re fucked up too, you know,” he says. His voice is flat, a surprising lack of venom behind the words, and for the first time Harry wonders if Draco is also exhausted by this. “I know why you never let me stay the night. Try convincing me to give you more of myself when you’re ready to let me in, too.”

When the car door slams, Harry lets his forehead thunk down on the steering wheel and breathes through the threat of tears.

~

He lasts three days before he’s standing on the threshold of Draco’s flat at midnight, knocking hard.

“What the fuck kind of time is– oh,” Draco says, swaying as he opens the door. “Harry.”

All of the words on Harry’s tongue die down at the way Draco says his name; curved and soft, as though it’s something precious, so unlike the sharp way he wields Potter as a weapon. It’s the way he says Harry’s name when he comes.

“Draco, can I– can I come in?”

“Why?” Draco asks, prickly once more, his expression closed off. “You wanna fuck?”

“No– well, yes, but not just–”

“Fine,” Draco says, trailing further into his tiny studio flat. His bed takes up an alcove off to the side, and he flops down on it, already shimmying out of his pyjama pants.

“Draco,” Harry says helplessly, coming to a stop next to the foot of the bed. There are long lengths of sheer fabric strung above the bed, pink and blue and green; something out of a dreamscape. He knows the sheets here, knows Draco’s body like his own. “Stop for a second.”

Draco cuts him a look but slides his fingers away from the waistband of his pants. “Why are you here if not for this?”

“To sleep,” Harry says before immediately flushing hot with panic. “I– I just wanted to sleep next to you.”

For a moment Draco is frozen, then he sits up and warily regards Harry. “You’re here to sleep?”

“I have bad dreams,” Harry says in a rush, looking down at his clenched fists. “I have– I have nightmares and I thought if I let you see that you wouldn’t want me anymore or worse you wouldn’t even care and I–”

“Stop,” Draco says quietly, reaching out to pull Harry onto the bed and into Draco’s arms. His hands are gentle, gentler than he’s ever been.

“I don’t want to lose you,” Harry whispers, and he didn’t want to say that because it’s too much and it will scare Draco away but he’s panicking. “And I don’t even have you.”

“Ah,” Draco says into Harry’s shoulder with a wry little laugh. “You do, more than you think.”

“Draco–”

“More than I let you see,” Draco amends quietly, and Harry goes silent, still trembling in Draco’s embrace. “Let’s sleep, then.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to fuck?” Harry asks, because he knows Draco, and Draco just laughs before rolling back and pulling Harry above him. His enthusiastic response is lost in Harry’s mouth, in the slide of their skin, in the rippling heat of Harry pushing in slow with his hands wrapped around Draco’s wrists. Draco comes first with a whimper, panting Harry’s name until Harry also shudders and stills, holding Draco tight to his chest. After a moment Draco casts a cleaning charm and they slip under the covers, facing each other, holding hands tightly as though this is a different life, one where they don’t have a war behind them.

“It’s not pretty,” Harry says quietly, feeling the need to warn Draco. “My nightmares. Before we broke up Ginny said it was– bad. If you need to tell me to leave I will, I just–”

“I have them too.” Without Harry’s glasses Draco’s face is slightly blurred, but his eyes are so impossibly bright. “If you want to be here, if you mean it, I’m going to stay.”

“I do mean it,” Harry says, seeing through Draco’s words to the question underneath. Without his usual harsh facade Draco seems so vulnerable, so young, and Harry shifts to wrap his arms around Draco’s slim waist. “I’m sorry I didn’t– that I couldn’t do this before–”

“I’m not easy to hold onto,” Draco says almost apologetically, tucking himself closer to Harry, and for a brief moment Harry can’t breathe because Draco is here, letting himself be held in Harry’s arms.

“I’m fucked up too,” Harry murmurs, echoing Draco’s own words. “I just want you.” He’s never said it so plainly before– Draco’s never let him– but he knows it all the way to his bones. He wants to hold onto Draco, through sex and nightmares and dawnbreak. He wants to keep Draco warm.

“Yeah,” Draco says softly, then more desperate: “Harry. Harry.”

“I’m here.” With a flick of his fingers Harry turns down the lights entirely, throwing the room into darkness. Draco’s breath is damp on his collarbone and he presses a kiss to the soft strands of Draco’s hair. “Just… stay.”

Draco hums tiredly. “As long as you want to stay, Harry, I’ll be right here.”

Ours

Summary: What’s big, sunny, and in the countryside? Harry have to guess it. Wordcount: 700 Tags: texting fic, domestic drarry

For @textrovert-01 for encouraging me to write it, even if it wasn’t your intention❤️ Thanks to mosroel for the beta❤️

You can read it on AO3

*

Today 10:35 AM

Hey, you there?

Yeah

did something happen?

I found it

You found what?

Today 10:40 AM

Draco??

What did you find!?

Guess

Something you lost? My old snitch? The T-shirt you said you’ve lost but know for a fact you threw in the trash because you hated it?

I DID NOT HATE IT, YOU PRAT! I lost it!

Sure

It was orange

I love orange

Sure

I do

Anyway, that’s not the point! Guess what I found!

I honestly have no idea of what it could be

You’re not fun at all

I’m pouting, by the way

You pouting isn’t going to make me guess what the hell you found

And btw I’m in a meeting, I shouldn’t be texting you right now

Oh, but you are!

Do you want to sext? I’d love to see you trying to keep a straight face there in front of McGonagall while I tell you what I want to do to you

OMG NO! Shut up!

I’m not answering you anymore if you do that

I want to touch your pine

My pine? You want to touch my pine?

penis*!!

So hot! I’ve always liked people touching my pine

People???

Are you going to be a dramatic git now over one word?

NO! I’m just jealous you let people touch your pine, but you make fun of me when I say it

Idiot

One hint! It’s big!

What?

Oh, we’re back at the guessing game

A dog?

No. We already have a wonderful and perfect dog

A fridge?

A fridge? That’s what you think makes me so excited? A fridge? Merlin, Potter. I’m not at that stage of adulthood yet

You spent TWO HOURS yesterday talking about supermarkets

SAINSBURY’S HAVE BETTER ICE-CREAM THAN TESCO AND THAT’S A FACT!

Easy there, supermarket’s expert

Fuck

McG is looking funny at me. I think she suspects something

Say hi to Minerva for me when she rips your limbs apart❤️

Today 11:05 AM

Did she kill you?

No, I’m still alive, but I had to hide the phone

I can text now, or talk if you want

Can’t. I’m at St Mungo’s. Baby guard, must be silent shhhh

How’s Scorpius?

Beautiful

You’re so cute when you talk about him

I know

SECOND HINT

It’s sunny

A beach?

Yes, Potter, I found a beach in ENGLAND that is sunny

Summer and climate change are things

It’s November, and it’s fucking freezing

Woah! Are you supposed to speak like that in the baby guard??

They can’t read

Okay, you’re thicker than I thought. Third hint: it’s in the countryside

Big, sunny, and countryside? A farm? But I don’t know why you of all people would be excited about a farm

Because I’m not. I don’t want to get dirty with pigs and cows and mud

You know what? I think you’re rubbish at giving hints

Wait, no

I KNOW you’re rubbish at it

THE TIME WE PLAYED THAT STUPID GAME AT GRANGER’S HAS BEEN WILDLY TWISTED!

Sure, love. Anyone could have guessed that small, weird, and disgusting were describing a pear

Exactly. And don’t you forget that

Today 11:25 AM

A field

A tree

A cow

A house

Sorry, I was saying goodbye to my perfect son

A cow??? A cow???

Since when are cows sunny??

So it isn’t a cow

Pity

I’ve always wanted one

Liar

You’re scared of them

We agreed on not talking about that again!!!

You agreed on that. I took pictures of your scared arse running away from that little cow

It wasn’t little

It was tiny

COWS AREN’T TINY! THEY’RE GIANT BY DEFINITION!

That one had been alive for like 3 hours

And it was huge

You guessed it, by the way

What?? Which one was it??

A house???

You found us a house????

YES!

A big, sunny,  in the countryside house!

OMG, DRACO! Why didn’t you say so before??

I’m crying!

I’m so excited that I’m crying!

Don’t you want to see it first?

I trust you. I know it’s perfect

And it’ll be ours

Yes! Ours to spend the rest of our life in!

I love you

Don’t be such a sap❤️

life's like an hourglass glued to the table

Based on "Breathe (2am)" by Anna Nalick.

I really don't know how it got like this.

That's not true, yes I do. Of course I do. I was there, near the middle of it all; not the epicenter, not the periphery, but somewhere within the nebulous part in between. I was close enough to be scathed, to be one of the supporting characters—though I'm fairly certain my support was the problem—but I was neither protagonist nor antagonist.

And from my perch, my station, I got a perspective few can claim. I teetered on the edge: between Light and Dark, between Good and Evil, between Child and Adult, between Love and Hate. The line was razor-thin, sharp like my Aunt's blade, yet steady, like a firmly-clasped hand in mine.

My moment in the spotlight came and went, the luminous beam generally ignoring me in favor of making the dark hiss and cower, and letting the heroes bask in it, their skin shining. I neither cowered nor shone. I was lit by the brightness until I was not; it swung to another target.

I watch my father lose his mind in Azkaban, eventually being carted off to the Janus Thickey Ward. I watch my mother's hands grip her suitcase tightly, her knuckles white on the handle as she kisses my cheek. She tells me to "be good" and to visit her in the south of France. I watch the portkey take her.

I watch Pansy go on dates with men she doesn't care for, see her eyes linger a little too long on women in tight dresses. I watch her acquiesce to her parents' attempts to see her married and settled, and I watch her clench her jaw when her suitors' hands grip her waist a little too tight or their rough mouths attach to hers without warning. She always unfolds for them, lets her body go limp. It appears submissive; I know it's calculated.

I watch Greg stumble through the Floo when he has nowhere else to turn, a cheap ale on his breath and his t-shirt rumpled. I see him grin lazily at me before he staggers wordlessly to the guest bedroom that I don't bother to ask the house elves to make up. He'll just be back again, and I let him.

I watch Blaise pour himself into his work. I watch him gesture wildly into the Floo when he finishes work calls that delay our friendly dinners, his eyes bright and intense as he rants in complicated jargon. I watch him skirt sensitive topics in favor of discussing his job and his co-workers, and then shifting to mine, and then back to his when the subject dries up. I watch him politely send me off; he has work to do.

So here I still am, in the middle, somewhere, watching everyone else as they work out where they were and where they are.

Pansy calls late at night. I hold back my wince at the sight of her red-rimmed eyes and puffy cheeks. She makes up a story of some man who'd run from her bed, but I know she sheds tears over the nightmares that won't leave it.

I wish I could offer a stroll or a shopping trip through Diagon the next day, but we both know I won't, I can't. The kind ones stare, the bolder ones glare or hiss accusingly, and the angry ones wag their fingers and shout and slap.

The angry ones aren't always there, but a few encounters are enough to deter us, no matter what the Wizengamot said when it declared I was still allowed to walk the same streets as everyone else.

On one particular day I am bold enough to set foot on such a street, keeping my head low and eyes downcast, humble; so unlike what I was taught.

But then, I was taught a lot of things.

I walk, and when I bump into another rushing figure I am filled with dread, with anticipation. An apology is on my lips, first for the jostle, and then probably for crimes I didn't commit but witnessed and was too powerless to stop. Not that that matters, to them. With the actor not available to repent, an accomplice is the next best thing.

The victim of my clumsiness looks at me. He is not kind, nor bold, nor angry.

He is Potter.

And he smiles. Beautiful, beats my traitorous heart.

And he apologizes. Why? thinks my curious mind.

And he asks questions. What about you? wonders my stammering voice.

And he gives me his Floo address. Yes, nods my head.

And he walks away. Don't cry, blink my hopeful eyes.

I rush home, my errand forgotten, and all but collapse onto the couch as I breathe deeply, as my Mind Healer taught me. There are times when it feels as if my chest is being squeezed in a vise; my heart is shedding its skin as it is forged in a crucible, the present reckoning with the past. In these moments, I try to center myself. I find my body's equilibrium. I grasp for the middle I know rather than sit on the edge of insanity, of oblivion.

So I write. It's the only way to ensure my brain doesn't implode with the pressure of the thoughts that shoot white-hot inside. The pain and anxiety travel from my mind, down my shoulder, in the veins in my arm, to my fingers, through the quill, and drip from the ink I use to etch them into the parchment.

I glance and see the piece of paper with Potter's Floo address written in his scrawl. That one hastily torn scrap gives me more joy, more excitement than one word I've painstakingly written here.

That night, I dream of standing in the middle of a tunnel. Potter is on one side, extending a hand and beckoning me to his side. On the other side, there is familiar darkness waiting to fold me into its cool, misty arms.

I look between both ends of the cave. I know the darkness; I've cowered within it. Potter's smile shines with new promise.

I step away from my place in the middle.

Potter's grin widens.

Draco: to everyone who rejected me

Draco *sings* : what a shame, baby what a shame, could've been with me instead of what's her fucking name

Harry ( his husband ) : ..

Harry: what the fuck are you on about ? You're the one who rejected everyone, even me 3 times and then cried when I rejected you*rolls his eyes* I should be the one singing it.

Requests open !!!

( I didn't had to make it large, but anyways, the requests are open )

300 follower's appreciation

On the occasion of 300 followers, I will be accepting request from any of these prompts in any order, any time. I owe every single one of you who followed me and I love you all wholeheartedly.

1. “Did I enter an alternate universe or did you actually just smile at me?”

2. “Try not to die.”

3. “Don't sound so disappointed, I might think you don’t like me”

4. “On a scale from one to ten, how bad do you want to kill me right now?” “I’m hovering somewhere in the high thirties.”

5. “Why are you doing that?” “Doing what?” “Treating me like a person

6. “Sometimes memories are the worst form of torture.”

7. “You’re not my friend anymore, remember?

8. “If you bite your lip one more time, I’m going to do it for you.”

9.“Why are you still here?” “Because I care about you asshole!”

10. “Nobody’s seen you in days!”

11. “Holding everything in doesn’t help, you know.”

12. “If you don’t hug me right now I think I might fall apart.”

13. “Are you flirting with me?” “You finally noticed?”

14. “If I die, I’m haunting you first.”

15. “You couldn’t handle me even if I came with instructions."

16. “I love you ! Is that what you wanted to hear ?”

17. “wHY DO YOU KEEP LYING TO ME ?”

18. “We both know that I should walk away, but I can’t.”

19. “I lo—-” “No, please… Don’t say that. You love her/him, not me.”

20. “Could you just take this pain away ? It hurts, so much… Help me.”

21.“Don’t ask her out again, please… You’re killing me, every single time you ask that.”

22. “Look, he/she wants you, just make him/her happy.”

23. “If you go, I’ll know that you never loved me.”

24..“We never were just friends, and you know it.” “I know it, but you deserve someone better than me.”

25 "HE WAS CRYING BECAUSE OF YOU!!!”

26. “You love me like I’m the person who actually deserves your love.” “But you are the only one who deserves it.”

27. “What happened to us?”

28. “Nothing has changed!” “Yes it has, and you know it.”

29.“Love isn’t supposed to hurt this badly.”

30. “You said you needed space. You were 5,000 miles away for a year, and you’re still unsure. I’m starting to think that an entire universe apart wouldn’t be enough space for you.”

31. “I want you to list every lie you ever told me. Then I’ll forgive you.”

Au | Head auror Harry | business man Draco

Harry, trying to imitate Draco *spins around in his chair to face Draco* : Ah we meet again Mr.Malfoy. I’ve been expecting you.

Harry : *still spinning*

Draco :

Harry *trying to stop* : wait-

Harry *grabing at surfaces* : Fucking help Malfoy-

Draco :

Draco : should I wait or- ?