It was the type of night one only saw in horror movies. The one where the wind is thrashing the tree branches about and the rain is pouring down and being a hindrance to your sight, but somehow the moon is still visible. Of course, Draco Malfoy had never seen a horror movie, seeing as they were muggle means of entertainment, but he still had an idea of what the scene would look like. The thing that shocked him however, was the fact that it was occurring at Malfoy Manor, where there was never a day of bad weather…at least there was never weather like this. And it was this weather that tore apart houses, Draco thought, whether they be muggle or wizard-built. Letting this thought race through his mind, he crept deeper still into the plush covers of his bed, as if that would protect him better than the enchanted walls that surrounded him. In doing this, he jostled an arm that had been sitting quite limply under the covers.
"Mm-Draco? What are you doing up so late?" came the inquiry from the sleep-hoarse voice that belonged to Draco's husband.
"It's the storm, Potter, can't you see it?" Draco asked, voice quiet with fear and unintentionally reverting back to the habit of calling his spouse by his last name, though Harry had been a Malfoy since age 18, 3 years ago. A chuckle of laughter came from the lump under the covers, which moved upwards to reveal a messy, dark haired young man with emerald eyes and a noticeable scar that had caused many problems throughout his 21 years on the planet. Reaching out with a leanly muscled arm, Harry grasped the cold metal of his glasses, shoving them onto his now-grinning face. Bright eyes now took in the blond haired man laying by his side, half hidden by the ridiculously large covers that adorned their shared bed. Sighing, Harry leaned over and pecked the exposed forehead of his husband in a pitiful attempt to calm him. "Did that help?" he asked, earning only a sullen pout as an answer. "You know Harry, it might help if you comforted me a little-," Draco's speech was cut off as a mouth fitted over his. His silver eyes closed of their own accord as he leaned upwards into the kiss, hand finding its way to the back of Harry's neck and pressing their bodies flush against each other's. The kiss lasted a long time, a dance of sorts, with breath mingling together and soft moan escaping Draco's mouth.
As they pulled apart, said Malfoy whined piteously, white hands pulling Harry closer so that Draco's head rested under Harry's chin and so that their bodies fit snugly together. "I take it you're all right now?" Harry asked, a smirk quite like his husband's settling into place. "Oh shut up," came the mumbled reply as a blushing blonde buried his face deeper into the crook of Harry's neck. Harry chuckled, pressing a kiss to the soft strands of hair that belonged to the now sleeping boy nuzzling into him. "I love you," came the soft words before the speaker himself fell asleep, listening to the storm outside.