Reviews –
InuLorien – Aha, I agree. Thank you very much! I'm glad you enjoyed :)
Author's Note – I don't know why, but I just had to write about snow. I guess I am just in a weird mood lately. I hope you like it.
Beta's Note – Aw. I love Harry and Draco. Mhmm. I have a song stuck in my head. Stupid Deftones. DropDeadLlama.
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One-Shot Snow Days
Harry is always thankful for snow, mostly on Draco's behalf. He loves Draco when it snows.
And Draco loves the snow. He dresses up for it, or at least that's how Harry sees it. He likes watching Draco pick out the right sweater, undershirt, jacket, scarf, and mittens. He layers. He colour coordinates. Sometimes he'll put back a sweater he just pulled out so he can wear a different jacket. Harry gets dressed in five minutes and waits another ten for Draco to finish.
Harry doesn't say anything, just grins, lies on the bed, and watches Draco dress up for the snow. When he's done picking things out, Draco starts to dress, humming under his breath and sometimes singing softly. Warm woollen socks, big brown snow-boots, and a cheerful… "Let's go!"
If the plows haven't come through, they'll trudge through the snow to the small park on campus, but if the streets are good to drive on, they'll get into their automobile and drive to the really big park five minutes away. Harry likes that best, he'll admit. There's something about driving with Draco next to him, one hand on the wheel and the other resting on gearshift, sneaking glances at Draco. Draco will never stop looking out the windows. He'll talk happily if Harry brings something up, but otherwise he is content to quietly admire the snow. Something about it feels warm, homey, right. It's all Harry has ever wanted: a car that's working, someplace to crash afterwards, and the one he loves most in the passenger seat.
And Draco bounces. It's adorable. Harry will park and Draco will wriggle in his seat, big grin on his face like a kid. Harry will tease him some.
"Blaise isn't out there, love."
"Dumbfuck," Draco replies, without malice. "Let's go."
They'll walk through the park until they hit a Good Spot. Draco has a philosophy of 'Good Spots.'
"It's the place where there's snow everywhere, enough to build a snowman or have a snowball fight. But there have to be enough bushes and stuff to hide behind."
"For said snowball fight, right?"
"Exactly."
Sometimes they'll have snowball fights. Laughing sorts of battles that always seem to end with wrestling in the snow and Draco letting Harry pin him down--making it clear that he is letting Harry pin him down.
"Right," Harry says, and lets it slide, because Draco will then tilt his head up for a kiss.
Sometimes they'll just walk quietly, talking about whatever's on their mind. Shallow things, deep things, whatever things. Harry doesn't mind. He puts an arm around his boy's waist and follows him through the snow.
There was this one time when the snow came down while they were there. And Draco laughed out loud, pure delight and it was beautiful. Harry grinned and watched him stick his tongue out to catch snowflakes.
"Taste good?" he had asked.
"Tastes clean," Draco said, grinning. The snow landed on his lashes and caught the sunlight, glimmering like magic on his boy.
When he takes Draco home, they make love. Not sex or fucking--there'll be time for that later. Post-snow is the time for soft strokes; brushing his boy with the gentlest kisses Harry can think to give him. Build them both up nice and slow and carry through smoothly, make Draco gasp and shiver and yes…
They'll stay in bed together afterwards, curled up under the covers. Draco purrs like some big cat. Just a rumble in his throat is low and very clearly content. Harry plays into it. He strokes Draco's back and hair afterwards and tells him how lovely he is. Praises him with the most lavish comparisons he can think of. He compares his boy to the wonders of the world. Draco never knows how to reply, but it's alright. It's all said with the blush on his cheeks and the way he wriggles in closer to Harry, kisses Harry's neck.
Harry loves the snow.
