Disclaimer: All characters and the HP universe belong to J.K. Rowling. The lyrics for "Quicksand" and the inspiration for this fic comes from the band Incubus, from their recent album "Light Grenades." No offense or copyright infringement is meant. Thank you. Please enjoy this work of fiction.
-Quicksand-
Ok...now the monster is awake
It won't rest until there's nothing left
Maybe ever and anon
I forget about the pain
Someone bending light comes along
and flowers lean towards the sun
Some people fall in love and touch the sky
Some people fall in love and find Quicksand
I hover somewhere in between...I swear...
I can't make up my mind
"Quicksand," Incubus, Light Grenades
Part I
Oil and Water
Harry and Draco were making dinner: fettuccini Alfredo with a few mushrooms on the side. It was Draco's favorite, and possibly the only reason he had consented to manual labor. It was two weeks before Draco's 25th birthday, which meant it was two weeks until the one year anniversary of their…well, whatever it was. Their intense rivalry had ended after Hogwarts and Harry's final defeat of Lord Voldemort at the end of what would have been his seventh year.
Draco's 24th birthday party had been the event of the season, and naturally the Weasley Twins had seen to it that they, and everyone that they knew, crashed the party; if only to drink up all Malfoy's ridiculously expensive French champagne, of course. At least a dozen glasses later on both their parts had turned Harry and Draco into drunken lightweight fools. That is to say, handsome, wealthy, famous, horny, gay drunken fools with extremely good taste. And that good taste had led them to each other.
The next morning, when both men woke up together in bed naked and with blinding headaches, they quickly found a way to ease their pain. They had very little in common, except for the enjoyment of consistent occurrences of mind-blowing sex with each other, but that seemed to be enough. They weren't committed. They never decided to be exclusive, though if there were others, neither Harry nor Draco were aware. They weren't in a relationship, they were just….something. Something other than what they had been before. And so it began.
The duo had caused a large stir the first time they had stepped out in public together, but then, that was always the case with the Boy Who Lived and the Malfoy heir. They had caused an even larger stir with their first public fight, which if Harry remembered correctly had been about him wanting to keep a drawer at Draco's place, and Draco refusing to understand why he should give up one square inch of closet space. It hadn't been their biggest fight, and it certainly hadn't been their last.
At the moment though, they were enjoying each other's company and Draco, at least, was enjoying the fuss made over the two of them whenever they stepped out together. Harry felt more comfortable back at his small flat, where they were now, as opposed to the sometimes ostentatious Malfoy Manor.
"Draco?" Harry tried again. His first attempt at catching Draco's attention had been brushed off in favor of adjusting the temperature of the stove so that the cream sauce might simmer a bit more.
"Yes?" Draco finally answered, checking on the garlic bread.
"Could we sit down a minute? I need to talk to you about something. It's…important."
Draco stopped what he was doing and turned away from the oven to face his lover. Harry couldn't read his expression. "Oh, Harry."
Draco's eyes looked a bit funny, and he came over and wrapped his arms around Harry. The Gryffindor froze, not sure what was going on. This wasn't the way things were supposed to happen. And besides, Draco didn't do reassuring hugs.
"Um, Draco?"
"It's alright, Harry, it's alright. I know you really wanted that position, and I'm sorry those idiots at the Ministry are too bloody thick to see how perfect you are for the job."
Realization dawned.
"Oh! No! Draco, I got the job, that wasn't what I wanted to--"
"You did! Harry, that's wonderful! We have to celebrate. Where's the champagne?"
And Draco was off again before Harry could utter another word. "But I--"
Draco rushed back in from the pantry, carrying a large bottle of champagne and grinning like a fool.
"Here we are. Now where is that fucking…" Draco trailed off, searching for the bottle opener.
Harry floundered for a moment, thrown off by the way the conversation had headed, but he knew that if he didn't say it now, he never would.
"Draco, I can't see you anymore," Harry exhaled quickly, the words coming out in a rush.
The blond once again stopped what he was doing and turned to face Harry. "What?"
"I can't see you…romantically…sexually…anymore." Harry blushed horribly, feeling miserable, but then met Draco's eyes as they looked at him in shock.
"What?"
He couldn't. "Please don't make me say it again."
"You're leaving me? Now?"
"I didn't mean to do it now," Harry tried to explain helplessly. "I mean with your birthday and our--" Harry cut himself off. "Ok, let me try this again…You and I are like…oil and water. And we've been trying to come together--"
"I don't know, Harry, I'd say we come together quite often," Draco smirked briefly.
"Draco! I'm trying to talk to you about something serious."
"No, you're trying to break up with me and act like it isn't your fault," Draco pointed out, his previous playful tone gone. "You're trying to act like you're still the honorable Gryffindor, even when you're leaving me for no reason."
Harry sighed, trying to find the words to say.
"We've been trying to make this work, and it just isn't. We," Harry gestured between himself and Draco, "aren't working. I've been lying to myself, lying to you. We've been lying to each other; this can't possibly work! I know we -- wanted it to, but Draco, we're not exactly what anyone would call compatible, so let's just call this what it is--"
"And what is this, exactly?" Draco asked, angry suddenly. "What am I to you? Some guy you just wanted to fuck? And now that you're tired of me you're just going to get rid of me like all your other whores before?"
A loud crash punctuated his last words. Harry distantly registered that the celebratory champagne bottle was now a heap of broken glass and fizzy alcohol on his kitchen floor.
Oh, shit, Harry thought. Draco was hurt. And when a Malfoy was hurt, he got revenge. Harry had been dancing on a volcano, and that volcano was getting ready to erupt.
"How long has this been going on?"
Harry was startled by the calmness of the question. After that violent display, he was sure Draco was going to go into one of his rages. Usually Harry didn't mind, because in the past it had inevitably ended up with them having really rough, hot sex against the kitchen counter or some other undiscovered erotic location. But he knew that wouldn't be the result of this fight.
"What?"
"This can't have been just a whim," Draco insisted. "You must have thought about this before. You didn't just suddenly decide that tonight, two weeks before our anni-- our whatever -- that you didn't want to be with me anymore!"
"But I'm not with you!" Harry shouted. "We never said we were a couple. We never talked about it. We just fucked. We would fuck, and have some small talk, and have dinner, and then fuck some more! This isn't a relationship, Draco! This is having benefits without actually being friends! We're too different to be friends, to ever make this be more than what it is."
"And what is this exactly? I need some clarification here, because all you've said is that this isn't what you want. So what is this?"
"It's nothing!" Harry burst out.
Draco stared at him, not saying a word. A few moments of awkward silence passed before Harry felt he could speak again.
"This is nothing, Draco. We don't mean anything to each other. And it's not enough. I want more than nothing. I want to be with someone I care about, and who cares about me."
"You don't care about me," Draco said flatly. "And you don't think that I care about you."
"Well, it's the truth isn't it?" Harry asked, needing to know that he was making the right decision. He was just striking first; protecting himself, that was all. He knew Draco didn't care about him, because if Draco did, then he would have expressed some desire for something more.
But all Draco ever wanted to do was fuck. And go out to ridiculously expensive restaurants and parade Harry around his pureblood friends and coworkers, but that was beside the point. That wasn't real, that was Draco lording over everyone else that he was 'dating' Harry Potter. Harry didn't feel like Draco cared about him, since he never let Harry know otherwise; in fact, while Harry had been expecting an adverse reaction, he hadn't thought that Draco would have gotten this upset over their…well, break up was the only term he could think of. But they weren't in a relationship, they never talked about anything really important, and Harry was tired of feeling unconnected to the one person who had gotten closer to him than anyone else, and he just couldn't do it anymore.
Harry stopped his rationalizing and snapped back into the conversation in time to hear Draco's response.
"I thought this was a relationship, Potter," the blonde was saying quietly.
Harry winced at the surname. "We never said it was offi--"
"I thought," Draco said loudly over Harry's voice, "that when you told me you loved me ---but oh, wait! You never did say it, did you? That's right. Nearly a year of our lives wasted. In fact, I don't think you've ever even said that you liked me. Since you don't even like me, this past year doesn't count, right? Guess you're off the hook then, huh?"
"Draco, stop overreacting. You're acting like a child," Harry said angrily.
Draco stared at him for a moment, and Harry took a moment in the middle of his anger to curse his thoughtless mouth.
"Don't you dare try and pin this one on me, Potter."
Harry had never heard a voice sound so cold.
"Don't you dare try to make this my fault. And don't you dare try and tell me that I'm overreacting; that I have no right to be upset when the person I've been seeing for nearly a year says that this has meant nothing to him, and that I'm just someone he likes to fuck."
Harry wondered how things had gotten so misconstrued. "No! That isn't what I was trying to say, you're twisting my words. I just meant--"
"No, you didn't just mean something else. That was exactly what you meant. And you know what, I don't want to listen to this fucking bullshit any longer."
"Well, you have to Draco, because you've never listened before!"
"When?" Draco demanded immediately. "When have I not listened before? Exact time and place, too, if you please, so I don't twist your words and make it sound like something else."
Harry floundered. "I can't--Draco, I can't think while you're glaring at me like that. God! I'm trying to tell you that I've been dying here and I feel like this thing is just blackening my soul while on the outside I'm still trying to smile. I can't stand it and now you want me to list a time and a place--"
"Get. Out." Draco interrupted him. No, Harry had been wrong before. Now he knew what true coldness was. "Go back to the Weaselette, to Granger, to some whore at the local pub. To bloody women! See if I care. I've had enough. You wanted out of this relationship? You got it. You're out! So get out of my sight before I remember all the Dark spells my father taught me!" Draco yelled, two bright spots of rouge coloring his angry face.
"Draco?"
"WHAT?!?!"
"This is my flat."
Draco glared a look of death in Harry's general vicinity, since he was currently refusing to look at the brunet, no doubt restraining himself from doing unspeakable things to his idiot of a boy-- ex-boyfriend. Harry shuddered, nevertheless. Without another word, Draco grabbed his wand and Apparated from Harry's flat.
Harry slumped down into the chair behind him and leaned over onto the table. Holy flying fuck, he was suddenly exhausted. He'd never had an experience like that before. With Ginny, she'd just accepted their break up. She'd taken it as an act of sacrifice. Which it was really, though if Harry was completely honest with himself, which he rarely was, he would see that it was more than the potentiality of danger that had spurred his decision.
He'd gotten what he'd wanted. He wasn't in a relationship with Draco Malfoy anymore. He wasn't in a relationship that made him feel like he was in quicksand, struggling to float on the surface but doomed to drown, sinking into the depths below. He was trapped with someone whom he was sure would never be able to reciprocate the feelings that had begun to grow in the pit of his stomach. He'd gotten exactly what he asked for.
But as Harry looked around his messy and very empty kitchen, the dinner they had so painstakingly been preparing only twenty minutes ago completely ruined, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong, and that he might have just possibly done something very, very stupid. Harry stared down at the broken glass on the floor, and wondered why he suddenly felt a little bit colder than before.
Part II
Diamonds And Coal
Draco glared at his midmorning tea. He liked to take a cup of Earl Grey with lemon and one buttered scone every morning at 10 o'clock, three hours after breakfast and two hours before lunch. It was an ancient Malfoy tradition to help settle the anxiety of dealing with imbeciles at the Ministry of Magic. It was comforting and calming, and now it wasn't working. He had gotten so used to a bespectacled git sitting across from him, dropping crumbs and specks of clotted cream all over his expensive table cloth, that now when he was suddenly facing nothing at all but a quivering, whimpering mass of crying House Elf, exclaiming that it would punish itself for bringing out one too many cups of tea and an extra plate of scones, Draco found himself irrationally angry at all human and elf life in general. And this of course had nothing to do with the fact that today was his 25th birthday and he was forced to go to his own gala reception without an escort because his boy---lover, had chickened out two weeks before the day.
The dribble that had come from Harry's mouth was quite possibly the biggest piece of bullshit that Draco had ever heard. It was completely unreasonable, had no logical coherence, and only a mentally challenged ass-clown would even suggest those things to a Malfoy! Draco refused to pander down to Harry's expectations of him. Harry had essentially spelled out what he thought of Draco's character, what he really thought of him as a person, and apparently, Harry didn't think too highly of him. Either that, or Harry didn't really know him at all. And if Harry didn't know him, then he obviously wasn't the right person to be with Draco. So really, Draco reasoned, he was winning here, by getting rid of someone who would have eventually dragged him down. Yes. Everything would now be for the better.
But then why did he hurt so much?
Draco's musings were interrupted by two large brown owls swooping into his dining room and depositing a rather large package in front of him. There wasn't a name on the outside, but Malfoy Manor had wards that prevented anything dangerous to a member of the bloodline from getting in, so that wasn't an issue. Draco studied the package a moment before shrugging to himself and ripping it open. It was probably just an early birthday present from…he stopped as the last of the wrapping fell away and he could fully see his gift.
It was magnificent. It was a miniature replica of Hogwarts, everything from the castle to the lake to Whomping Willow to the edges of the Forbidden Forest. The detail was incredible; there were even a few students flying around on their brooms on the Quidditch Pitch and ripples on the Black Lake from an invisible wind.
Draco spied a small note tucked into the space between two close spires of the Astronomy Tower. Upon opening it only contained one word. Draco read the Latin word aloud, confused.
"Aperio."
The moment his lips finished the word, the roofs of the castle disappeared and Draco found himself looking at the inside the Great Hall, the dormitories in Gryffindor tower, the moving staircases between the corridors of classrooms, the observation deck of the Astronomy Tower, and all the rest of Hogwarts.
The blonde looked up as a second owl flew into the room, landing to the side of the castle. Draco detached the note from her leg, fingers trembling a bit as he looked at her unmistakable snowy coloring.
Draco,
Happy birthday. I commissioned this for you weeks ago. I guess it isn't really appropriate now, but that doesn't matter. It's not like I could give it to anyone else. It's yours.
For what it's worth, I'm sorry. About everything. But I really think it was for the best. We can be happy now. That's what I want for you, to be happy, and I don't think I was doing that…I hope you find someone that makes you content in all the ways I couldn't.
Have a great birthday,
Harry
Draco stared at the page until the black ink and creamy parchment started to bleed together. That idiot!
He swiftly got up from the table and headed toward the study. It was where he usually did his thinking and planning, and right now, Draco needed to think of his most brilliant plan yet. He was going to get that stupid Gryffindor to admit his feelings or his name wasn't Draco Lucius Malfoy.
Draco smiled brightly at the entire room as he made the rounds among his guests. He stole a glance at the large grandfather clock to the right of him near the foyer as he chatted amiably with Blaise Zabini and some of the other boys from his year at Hogwarts.
Just ten more minutes. Ten more minutes before I bear my soul, he told himself nervously, laughing a little too loudly at whatever comment Blaise had made. Once Millicent Bulstrode joined their conversation, Draco excused himself politely and then moved on to some of the other guests, shaking hands and exchanging pleasantries as quickly as he could without seeming rude. Though leaving his own birthday party early was a gesture of good will (and a slight tool of manipulation) for Harry, it didn't mean that Draco had to drop all of his decorum and class.
Draco double checked that all of his guests were happy, drunk and distracted enough to not miss his presence for a quick twenty minutes or so, and then slowly made his way to the Apparition room, intending to Apparate directly to Harry's flat. If he knew Harry, Draco was certain that the brunet hadn't yet dismantled the settings that allowed Draco easy passage through the wards around the flat. He was five steps away from his goal when a bushy haired annoyance barged into his way.
"Malfoy," Hermione said, tilting her head slightly as she looked at him.
"Granger," he nodded back, hiding his impatience with a slight smile. "I trust you're enjoying the festivities?"
"Of course," she said, taking a sip from her champagne flute. "The best food, the best music, the best service, and all of the most influential people in Wizarding London as your honored guests. Well, all but one, I suppose. What more could a young man want for his birthday party?"
Draco stiffened slightly, though his smile remained in place. "I assure you, Granger, there is nothing which I desire that I could not have."
"Is that so? Would that include a certain war hero who is missing tonight?"
"I notice you're not letting his absence ruin your spirits," Draco replied.
"He said that he would prefer Ron and I have our fun and let him be for the evening."
"I see…and how is our famous Quidditch player these days?" Draco made a show of peering around Hermione to catch a glimpse of Ron Weasley, who was currently turning pale as his twin brothers pushed him toward a guest of Draco's who looked a little too much like a vampire to encourage any real feelings of romance during the evening. Pity, Draco thought. Aunt Hilda was such a fine conversationalist.
"You didn't answer my question, Malfoy."
Damnit. Nothing ever gets past Granger, Draco cursed.
"I would never presume to claim to possess something that did not wish to belong to me…however, sometimes what a person wants and what he thinks he wants are two completely different things. Tonight I intend to rectify my earlier mistakes and reclaim what is rightfully mine."
Granger scowled. "Harry isn't something you can own, Malfoy, like another addition to your art collection or some piece of property."
"Of course not, whoever said he was?" Draco replied, slightly amused. "While we're on the subject of Harry, though, am I to understand he's sitting alone at home right now?"
"I can't really say," she replied, clearly miffed by his earlier remarks.
"Well, I'll soon be finding out. If you'll excuse me, Granger. I have a lover to win back," Draco said as he swiftly sidestepped the woman and entered the Apparition room.
He was just about to leave when Granger stopped him once again.
"But how can you be sure this is what he wants?" she blurted out.
Draco grinned at her. "Whoever said this was about what he wants?"
Oh no, Draco thought as he Apparated out before Granger could form the protest waiting behind that frown.
He arrived in Harry's entryway, lightly dusted off invisible fuzz from his shoulder, and then made his way over to the living room where he could hear the sounds of the television blaring. The volume was turned up loud enough that the brunet sitting on the sofa sipping a glass of lager didn't notice that Draco was even there until he was about a foot away.
"Merlin, Draco!" Harry exclaimed, jumping into the air and nearly falling off his seat. "What are you doing here?" he asked once he regained his balance and stood up.
"Enjoying your clumsiness as usual," Draco said wryly.
Harry snorted. "Yes, I'm sure I'm much more entertaining than a ballroom full of guests."
"You'd be surprised," was the soft reply. Draco watched calmly as his remark threw Harry off for a moment.
"Er…Happy birthday," the brunet said in an attempt to make small talk. "You got my gift?"
"Yes. It was lovely. Thank you."
Harry twitched uncomfortably under the other man's gaze. Draco simply continued to stare, taking in Harry's rumpled clothing, the shadows under his eyes, the scruff slowly emerging around his jaw; Harry was not in good shape. Draco liked to think it had something to do with his absence, but he would hold his tongue until he was sure. The aim tonight was to keep Harry, not to catch him for a few moments before he escaped again. And in order to catch something wanting to flee, you had to make it trust you. And in order for a Gryffindor to trust you, you had to be honest first.
"Can I get you anything?"
"No, I'm fine. Thank you."
Don't lose your nerve, don't lose your nerve, don't--
"Draco, what are you doing here?"
Draco snapped into focus. Here goes. "It's my birthday."
"Yes, I believe we already covered that fact."
"So I should get what I want on my birthday."
Harry was silent. "Er…well, what does that have to do with--"
"You?" Draco interrupted. "It's quite simply really. It's my birthday, and while your present was absolutely splendid, it wasn't what I wanted." He ignored, with some difficulty, the hurt look that quickly crossed Harry's face.
"Okay…what do you want then?"
"You."
Draco watched silently as Harry blinked a few times.
"What?"
"I want you for my birthday, Harry."
Harry laughed nervously, before realizing Draco was serious. "Wha--wha--"
"Why?" Draco shrugged nonchalantly. "It worked out so well last year, I thought I'd repeat it and see how it turns out on the second go around."
"But--but--we broke up!" Harry frowned, looking adorably confused. He was such a Gryffindor, Draco thought.
"Correction. You broke us up. I did nothing….I was 'nothing', I believe you said," Draco winced.
Harry's frown deepened. "Draco, I'm sorry for the things I said that night. I really am. But that doesn't make them any less true."
"To you, maybe. But not to me." Draco took a deep breath. "What you said that night was not true to me, because you have never meant nothing to me. It's quite the opposite, really."
Harry closed his eyes, wearily searching for patience. "I'm not talking about when we used to tear the mikey out of each other at Hogwarts--"
"And neither am I," the blond retorted. "I'm talking about the past year. It meant something to me, Harry. It meant a lot. You….you got under my skin somehow, just like you always do. You've seen parts of me that no one else has, that I wish no one ever would... You've seen me at my most vulnerable, Harry. Whether I was falling down drunk or yelling at some House Elf or…or crying into my pillow because in spite of being an evil Death Eater bastard, Lucius was my father and Merlin help me, I miss him!"
Harry was slowly backing away towards the door, probably in response to his shouting, but Draco wasn't letting him get off that easily. It was his birthday, damnit, and he was a Malfoy, and he was going to get what he came for.
"I know things haven't been as good as they should." Draco lowered his voice in an attempt to calm down, feeling better when Harry visibly relaxed and stopped his backward movement. "We've been going about this the wrong way. We're thinking instead of feeling. We think too much, and then we forget to appreciate all that's being left unsaid. We just focused on the fighting and snarling and, well, barking in your case," the blond said in reference to Harry's animagus form. At the look on Harry's face, he quickly added, "I'm not calling you an animal; I think we just fight too much. And that's probably my fault as much as yours….well, alright, it's equally both our faults."
Draco pulled a hand through his hair and sighed, unconsciously copying a habit of Harry's. He took another deep breath and fully implemented "The Plan." He wanted to date a Gryffindor. What did they respond to? Honesty; brave, blunt, brutal honesty. Well, fuck. That wasn't going to be easy. But he wanted this, he wanted Harry…and he was going to do whatever it took to get him.
"Look, Harry, it comes to this. That birthday gift you sent me was not something you just give to a fuck buddy. That was a gift meant for someone you care about. And the fact that you gave it me, even after our break up, tells me something. It tells me that you still care, whether you want to admit it or not. And you may be scared right now, but so am I. I'm looking you in the eye right at this moment, and I am fucking terrified. I want you, Harry. I want you, and I want you to want me. Not just as someone to fuck, but as someone you could love. I think I could love you, Harry, if you let me."
He walked up to stand right in front of Harry and let his words come out in a rush so Harry couldn't interrupt.
"Yes, we fight. Yes, we can never agree on anything. Yes, sometimes it feels like we have absolutely nothing in common. And yes, this is going to take a hell of a lot of work. But we have to give it some time, and we have to try, for real, or else this all really will have meant nothing…and I don't think I could stand having you think of me as nothing."
Draco lifted a hand to cradle Harry's face, hope blooming when the brunet made no attempt to stop him. "We can burn so brightly if we choose to. We can outshine them all." He softly kissed the man in front of him, a simple brush of lips, before he pulled away to look straight into those green eyes.
"Give us time to shine, Harry. Even diamonds start as coal."
He waited.
Draco stood silently and watched the possible love of his life stand in front him, judging him, deciding whether or not he was worthy, and Merlin help him, Draco had never wanted to prove himself more than he did at that moment. Nothing else ever seemed so important.
More seconds passed. Harry still hadn't moved, hadn't said anything. He just continued to stare at Draco, until the blond started to become uneasy.
I failed, he thought miserably. He doesn't want me. I really am nothing to him.
Draco stopped himself from reaching out to Harry in a desperate attempt to force the feelings he knew were true, at least to himself, into the other man's psyche. He swallowed hard, nodded once, and whispered, "Alright then," before slowly turning away and walking to the front door. He would at least have a dignified exit before he went home, sent all his guests away, and settled into bed for a good cry.
He had just grasped the handle when he felt a light touch on his shoulder. Draco turned to Harry, sunlight peaking a bit through the fog in his mind as he registered the warm hand gently encircling his wrist.
He waited.
Slowly, ever so slowly, he was pulled into a hug that tightened with every breath, every second that passed between them. They stood there for long minutes, never moving, just breathing together.
"I was scared."
It was said softly, right at Draco's ear, the breath stirring a few pieces of his blond hair.
"Of what?"
"…Of needing you…when I didn't think that you needed me. So I pushed you away." Harry paused so that he could pull back and look Draco in the eye. "I'm sorry."
"No," Draco shook his head. "I'm sorry. Sorry for not showing you what you did mean to me; for not showing you what we meant to me."
The silence lingered for a few moments.
"Will you show me now?"
Draco broke out of his thoughts of the past, of things he might have done differently, what Harry might have done differently, and focused back on the man wrapped around him. The past ten minutes not withstanding, Draco had never been very good at saying what he actually meant, at least when feelings were involved. Harry was much the same, Draco was coming to realize. But there was something with which he had always been very good at using to express himself.
Draco leaned over and touched his lips to Harry's, sliding his tongue against the other man's lower lip and tasting the sweet sweat and roughened skin that came from Harry's habit of biting his lip when upset. Apparently, he'd been very upset recently. Draco soothed the broken skin, swallowing the low moan that Harry gave. Harry tried to deepen the kiss, thrusting his mouth into Draco's, and while the blond allowed the intimacy, he maintained the slow pace he had set. This wasn't about passion or sex or lust; this was about what they had meant to each other, and what they could mean to each other. They continued to kiss, with a slow burning fire that could easily burn with higher flames, but instead had a pooling intensity that bespoke of an eternity of heat and joy.
When they finally parted, neither could stop the grins spreading onto their faces.
"I'd show you a bit more, but there is a little something going on at the Manor that I should be attending to," Draco said.
"Right," Harry sighed. "That ridiculously formal party you insisted on having."
"Well, you'd better hurry up and get changed," the blond said lightly. "No boyfriend of mine is showing up to a black tie event in jeans and a jumper that looks like it hasn't been washed in a year."
"Oh?" Harry replied airily, disentangling himself from the other man and edging toward the bedroom. "And just who says I'm going to this thing?"
"You're going to regret that," Draco intoned, putting on a stern face and attempting to hide his smile as he chased Harry into his room, the Gryffindor laughing all the while. It wasn't long before two voices echoed laughter down the hall.
"Draco?"
The whisper cut softly through the dark and tickled the hair along his neck. It was late, or rather early, depending on one's perspective, and he and Harry had just settled into a post-coital cuddle in Draco's bed back at the Manor. His birthday party had gone on a for a few more hours (no doubt the rejuvenation of the party had occurred with Harry's entrance; Draco personally would never forget the look on the Weasel's face) before everyone had left and Harry and Draco had tumbled into some rather brilliant make-up sex.
"Yes?"
"Did you have a good birthday?"
Draco turned to face Harry, positioning their bodies so he could completely envelope the man in his arms. He placed a soft kiss on Harry's nose.
"Yes, I did."
"And…" Harry bit his lip, "you really enjoyed your present?"
"They were both spectacular."
Harry wrinkled his nose in confusion.
"But I only gave you one."
Draco chuckled. "No, Harry, you silly Gryffindor. You didn't just give me one. You gave me much more than that."
"I did?"
"You gave me everything."
Harry blinked adorably for a few seconds, trying to figure out Draco's meaning, before he found himself on the receiving end of a rather amazing kiss. No matter, he thought. I'm happy with being happy.
Similar thoughts of happiness were running through Draco's mind, though his centered more on idiotic Gryffindors and their susceptibility to cunning Slytherin plans.
"Happy birthday, Draco."
"Happy birthday indeed."
One last kiss, and the two men settled down to sleep, a smile playing on both their lips and warmth blooming in their chests. Harry had one last thought as he drifted off.
Quicksand isn't really all that troublesome, really. One just has to stop panicking, and learn how to float.
Finis.
Author's Notes: Thank you for reading. Please leave a review.