This Had No Right To Be So Beautiful - Tumblr Posts
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.”