It felt clumsy to be pressing the blade against someone else's skin. He had done this on himself a hundred thousand million times, but this was different. How was he to know how much pressure to apply, how deep to go, how wide to cut, when to stop? How did one come to trust another with their blade? He looked up at Harry.
"Sure?" he murmured.
"Sure," Harry swallowed. "I trust you."
Draco looked back down. Harry trusted him, and there was nothing else to it. Here in this dark, crammed cupboard with its musty smell and dust bunnies, Harry trusted him. Here, sitting on their knees with their noses almost touching, Harry trusted him. Here, where they were one big breathing machine, Harry breathing out a breath and Draco breathing it in, Harry trusted him. They were connected. No one else understood how pointless everything was. No one else noticed the little things in life that actually mattered. No one else enjoyed tip toeing the line of safety and danger. It was him and Harry and no one else.
"Jesus, Draco, Just do it," Harry breathed out.
"You say it like I'm slicing a cake or something," he mumbled.
"With cranberry filling," Harry giggled softly.
Draco smiled at him, eyes sparkling.
"You want me to go first?" Harry offered reluctantly.
Draco shook his head and took a deep breath. Trying to imagine he was doing it to himself was useless. Without the pain reflex, what if he really hurt Harry and didn't stop in time? He looked at Harry's left upper arm where the blade was hovering. The skin there was unmarred; but not for long.
"Remember, if you make it too shallow, you have to do it a second time cause it won't leave a scar," Harry rambled on anxiously. "But don't make it too deep either, Okay?"
Draco glared at Harry and after a split second decision made the cut without breaking eye contact. He slid the blade down and lifted it up smoothly, letting go of the breath he'd been holding when Harry jumped and bit his lip a moment later. Draco was almost too scared to look down. It had felt deep enough, but what if it hadn't been? Following Harry's line of sight, he finally looked down at his work. There was now a vertical line, about half an inch, on the soft skin below Harry's shoulder. It turned red in the blink of an eye and a big drop of blood gathered at the bottom. Draco lifted a tissue to dab at it, but Harry pushed it back with his other hand and stared down at where Draco had marked him.
He lowered the tissue and stared at Harry staring at his hand, and fell in love with him all over again. Every bit of Harry's awareness was devoted to that half an inch, and the scar that would stay there forever would always remind him of Draco. The warmness that filled him in that moment was greater than when he sat by his window and drank hot chocolate, talking to Harry on the phone, watching snow fall outside. It was greater than when Harry smiled the private smile that he only shared with him. It was even greater than when Harry had first told him those three magical words.
"My turn," Draco sighed.
"Give me the blade," Harry muttered dreamily.
Draco flipped the blade and passed it over carefully, grinning all the while. The soft pink warming Harry's cheeks brightened. He was grinning too.
"Sure?" Harry asked, rolling back Draco's left sleeve.
"Sure," Draco echoed. "I trust you."
Harry's grin widened and he bent over Draco in concentration. He cut faster and surer than Draco had, and the sting didn't come for a few seconds. Draco intertwined their fingers as they watched the half-an-inch redden and gather blood. After that, they looked at each other for what felt like an eternity, sitting quietly in the overcrowded cupboard, feeling the hurt and the wetness trickling down their arms and not caring. They were here together, feeling the hurt in the exact same way in the exact same spot. Draco's permanent signature shone on Harry's skin as he felt Harry's on his own. The thrill of it was wonderful. Harry's eyes, alive with so many emotions, etched into Draco's memory forever, were the brightest stars in his universe. They were all that mattered, now and forever. From here on out they were connected, connected in a secret way that they themselves would know and no one else.
He could hear the soft breeze blowing through a window outside, rustling some papers. It was peaceful here. It was always peaceful with Harry, and they would be together forever, he just knew it. He leaned in to kiss Harry, and wished that he could capture this moment and relive it forever.
They fell asleep in the cupboard, Draco leaning against boxes stacked high and Harry leaning against him. When he woke up it was to the sound of a knock somewhere outside, and his mother's voice announcing dinner. He looked down on Harry's sleeping form and raised his hand to brush away the hair from tickling his nose. The sting in his hand reminded him of what they'd done, and he softly shook Harry awake with a satisfied smile on his face. Harry woke up slowly, rubbing his eye groggily, and stretched against him.
"Nice dreams?" Draco asked after clearing his throat.
"Mm," Harry replied. "What time 'sit?"
"Time for dinner," Draco pushed the door of the cupboard open with a foot. "Don't forget the blade."
"Mm," said Harry, picking up the blade and squinting at the world outside.
Draco turned and offered his hand to Harry sitting in the crowded mess, and waited until he took it to pull him to his feet.
"Dust bunny," he announced, picking up a rather big one from Harry's hair.
Harry "Mm"ed again and went over to the desk to put the blade down. He went to the mirror to try and straighten his hair, and Draco went to stand behind him and help. Being somewhat taller, he could see how messy his own hair was, and abandoned Harry's to work on getting the dust bunnies out of his own. Harry looked down on Draco's left hand and smiled, brushing a finger against it. Draco turned Harry around to look at his left hand, and bent to place a kiss on the fresh cut there. They trudged to the bathroom to wash the dried trails of blood before leaving the room and going downstairs for dinner. Draco's sleeve was covering his scar, and Harry had worn a jacket to cover his, but they both knew that the scars were there, and would remain there. It was an assurance that no words or promises could give. It gave the kind of certainty that only big gestures ever give.
They sat down at the dinner table, listening to Draco's parents make conversation, giving one-worded answers or laughing in response, but holding hands below the table and thinking about the new bond between them. Maybe it was true that at fourteen they weren't supposed to have their lives figured out yet, but just knowing that they would always be in each other's lives was good enough to make them not worry for at least one night. There was always tomorrow to worry about what prestigious school his parents would expect him to get into. There was always tomorrow to worry about when they would finally figure out that he was gay and how they would react. There was always time to worry about consequences, but now was not it. Now was the time to feel contentment from having Harry by his side. Now was the time to watch his mother feed his father ice cream and feel like maybe for one night everything would be alright. Now was the time to lean into Harry's side and pretend to whisper something in his ear while actually softly kissing him, and hear his sweet laughter fill the air.
When dinner ended and they made their way back to his room, he could hear his parents arguing again downstairs, and he knew that his perfect world was once again shattered. He closed the door behind him, but that didn't help with muffling the argument.
"Hey," Harry held Draco, breathing in his ear. "Don't worry about them. You know they always argue, but nothing ever happens."
"What if this time it does?"
Harry's fingers found their way below his sleeve and they traced the wound. "It won't."
"O-okay," Draco stammered.
Harry lifted his head back and leaned in to kiss him. Draco let his eyes fall shut and lost himself in the comfort that those soft lips offered him. He was here, and Harry was here, and they understood each other, and that was all that mattered.
For now.