For Keeps
Harry/Draco [PG-13, 2562 words]
Disclaimer: JK Rowling and co own everything. I'm writing for fun and not for profit.
A/N: Unbeta'd and I don't even know what this is, other than it started out as 800 words of a dialogue-only fic. Here's hoping some people like it, even if I'm iffy about the writing. Warnings for mood shifts, invented use of Polyjuice Potion, misuse of canon material and magic, and most terribly, repeated use of the word sex without any actually being in the fic. Written for the prompt: marriage proposal. I tried to give this a Quidditch-themed title, so I hope it works.
Summary: Having sex when they are both grey and old is certainly not something that has crossed Harry's mind, until Draco mentions he has a plan to make sex as fantastic at age seventy as it is right now.

For Keeps

Harry turns his head to watch Draco from where they had both sprawled out on the grass after the Quidditch game. Draco is staring at the sky with his arm tucked behind his head, his lips curved into a smile, while the Snitch flutters in the air above them. That can only mean one thing: he's in a fantastic mood at the moment. And it's all Harry's fault.

"Draco, you won one match, a pick-up game at that. One match out of how many we've played against each other since we were twelve? Besides, we used your Snitch-"

"If you're implying that I cheated, let me remind you that you were the one who checked the Snitch over for Dark spells and deemed it alright to use." The wicked grin that spreads on Draco's face sends a shiver down Harry's spine. "As for your winning streak, that was at Hogwarts when we were schoolboys and amateurs. Now that we're older and you're a professional Quidditch player, I have a right to gloat. I caught the Snitch in under a minute. Youngest Seeker in a century, my arse."

"You must be so proud," Harry mutters under his breath, but really, he has no one to blame but himself for losing the match. He had been too distracted by Draco's long legs gripping the broomstick, his calf muscles emphasized by the tight trousers he wore. Which led to noticing Draco's fit arse hovering just above, and not to mention his blond hair flowing freely in the wind. Really, with that vision in front of him, how was Harry to notice that the game was over before it had really begun?

"Of course. Do you know what this means?" Draco says, turning at last to look at Harry, his grey eyes sparkling with mischief. "When you're old and grey, Potter, I'll still kick your arse in Quidditch."

Amused at Draco's declaration, Harry feels his irritation at the earlier Quidditch match fade away. After all, for Draco to make a grand statement like that and actually mean it, it's hard to stay mad at him for long. Instead of replying with a sharp comment, Harry waggles his eyebrows in a poor attempt at flirting and says, "Seems like such a terrible thing to do to my arse. Wouldn't you rather do something else with it instead?"

Perhaps Harry should have said an insult instead because Draco shivers with his entire body and a look of disgust appears on his face. "No."

Harry frowns at the drastic response. Draco never says no to sex, and to be honest, Harry never does, either. "What do you mean, no?"

"You'll be old," he says simply, as if that explained everything. Which in Draco's mind, it probably did.

"What? What's wrong with that?" Out of everything that it could possibly be, Harry is surprised that age is the one thing that would prevent Draco from enjoying sex.

Draco frowns, opening and closing his mouth several times before saying, "Having sex at that age, well, it's not pleasant to think about."

Harry's eyes widen and he laughs, the sound a sharp relief to the dreadful feeling he had gotten ever since hearing Draco's 'no'. "I hate to be the bearer of bad news, Draco, but you're older than I am. If you think being with me when I'm old is that awful-"

"No!" Draco interrupts, "It's not that at all. I know I'll be old. It's just…"

"Well, then, what do you mean?" Harry turns over on his side to stare at his boyfriend. Draco is usually not at a loss for words, always having some witty remark for everything, both good and bad, thrown his way. Even so, Harry doesn't expect the next words that come out of Draco's mouth.

"I fucking love sex."

Harry snorts and rolls his eyes, earning a puzzled look from Draco. "Draco, I think you love every word in that sentence, no matter what order it's in."

"What?" Draco says, grinning. "It's the truth. You love sex, and me, too."

"Well, yeah, I do, but you don't have to say it like that."

"What's wrong with saying we'd rather fuck than die?"

"Draco! We're in public." Harry sits up and looks around them to see if there are people who may have heard, but it's just the two of them lying in the shade of an oak tree. "Our sex life is private."

"Fine," Draco huffs, "but that still doesn't change the fact that we would both rather stay in bed than get out of it. Will that change as we get older?"

Harry can't help it; he stares at Draco in disbelief. "Yeah, that's true, but Draco, why are you even worried about this? We're not even thirty yet, and I think our sex life is great."

"Yes, for right now, but what about later on? It's good to think about these things just to make sure we both know what we're getting into. Since we're wizards, our natural sex drive should last us until we're about seventy-"

That is news to Harry. "A wizard's sex drive lasts that long? Isn't that Hagrid's age?" Which is a mistake to point out because Hagrid is his friend and he doesn't want to have those kinds of thoughts about family or friends. Even Harry wouldn't think about Ron that way, and they were the same age.

Draco gives him a wry smile as if he can tell what's going through Harry's mind. "Enjoying those thoughts, Potter? Here's something else to think about: who's the only other famous gay wizard you know?"

The answer immediately springs out of Harry's mouth before he can stop himself. "Dumbledore."

"Exactly," Draco says, wincing. "Now imagine being Dumbledore's age and having a regular sex life. How would our cocks even look like at that age?"

They both shiver, despite it being a sunny day, at both the prospect of their former Headmaster's love life and the state of their bodies at that age. Thankfully, it's Harry's question that chases those images away.

"Okay, when you say 'natural sex drive', what exactly do you mean by that?"

"Well, Potter," Draco says, smirking, "it'll go 'up' by itself until we're seventy and after that, there's no amount of potions or spells that'll help us once we can't do that anymore."

Harry's cheeks flush pink and his voice shakes when he asks the next question. "Not even if we use Muggle supplements, like the little blue pill?"

Draco raises an eyebrow. "Please, Potter, you know those things don't work no matter how much Muggles swear by them." Then his face goes serious as he says, "The problem for me is not just the lack of sex drive we'll have at that age."

"Then what is it?"

"It's how we'll look at that age. Seventy years does change a lot in a person and I'm just worried about what happens to us if we grow old- I mean, take a look at how- What if you change your mind and decide- I can't-" For the second time that day, Draco closes his mouth instead of finishing his sentence.

This time, Harry doesn't even tease his boyfriend about being speechless. Harry's never really thought about his future. The most he's planned out anything months in advance is a holiday, but even that could change at the last possible moment. It's hard for him to imagine that far into the future, when only ten years ago, Harry was more worried about surviving to see the next day. But to see Draco struggle to find the right words to explain how he feels, just reaffirms how much Harry loves the man next to him. The problem is not that Harry wouldn't stay, but rather it was more likely that Draco would leave. Sometimes it was hard to know for sure.

Would they stay together until they are old and grey?

"Draco, you know that I don't care how both of us would look at any age, right?

"Oh, right, that's good to know," Draco says, and if Harry wasn't carefully looking at Draco at that moment, he would have missed the look of gratitude and relief that passed over his face. "However, that doesn't mean I don't have two things that will help us with that little problem. You know, just to make sure everything is perfect."

"Oh, are you saying it's not perfect now?" Harry says, teasing. "What did you do, find a way to make us stay young forever?"

"Of course not," Draco says, "that would be ridiculous. The way I see it, we either need a Time-Turner or we need to use Polyjuice Potion."

"That's not much of a choice since all the Time-Turners were destroyed in the war."

"Thank Merlin I'm such a renowned Potions Master," Draco says, "so it shouldn't be a problem."

"Let me get this straight," Harry says, ignoring Draco's laughter at that word. "You want us to use Polyjuice Potion when we have sex at that age? " Although intrigued at first, Harry still can't wrap his mind around what Draco proposes. Polyjuice wouldn't make them be younger, unless… Harry's eyes widen when he comes up with the only explanation that would work. "You want us to Polyjuice as someone else, someone younger? Is this some kind of kink thing?"

Draco snorts and it seems he's regained his confidence once Harry hasn't outright prohibited using Polyjuice. "Of course not. This," he says, waving a hand down his body, "is perfection." Without even pausing a beat, he adds, "And you come in at a very close second. So it would be a shame to use other people when we've got each other."

Harry nods slowly and his heart warms at those last words, but there's still something off about Draco's explanation. "You're forgetting something, Draco. We're still going to age. We'll get liver spots, and our teeth will fall out, and even if you think otherwise, there's still a chance our sex drive will go down before we've reached our prime. That's not even mentioning the fact that our bones will be brittle and might break if we have the same kind of sex at seventy like we do right now. Even if we use our own hair in the Polyjuice Potion, we'll still be old. I don't see how it'll work."

"That's where you're wrong," Draco says confidently, reaching over and plucking a strand of hair from Harry's head.

"What was that for?" Harry says, wincing at the pain.

"This," he says, holding up the single strand of hair, "is what you'll add to the Polyjuice Potion the first time we have sex at age seventy. We'll use the hair that's on our heads right now and that way you'll look exactly like this, instead of, well,-" Draco trails off, letting Harry think about how his appearance will be in four decades.

As far as theories go, that's far from the most far-fetched one Harry has every heard and it does have a chance that it might work. However, Harry has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing because if that was the solution, wouldn't everyone be using it? "That's your plan?" he asks as soon as he's able to keep a straight face, which is hard to do under his boyfriend's glare. "How do you know that it will work?"

"Do you have a better one?" Draco says, crossing his arms as if to dare Harry to try and contradict him. "I'd explain the magical theory to you, but I'm not sure you have the capacity to understand."

Harry stops laughing. "Are you calling me stupid?"

Draco smiles. "No, I would never say that. You're just pants at potions."

"Fine," Harry says, because there's no denying the truth. "If you're that sure-"

"Malfoys are never wrong," Draco says confidently, his tone leaving no room for argument.

"Whatever you say, Draco," Harry says, "as long as you know what you're doing." Draco nods and the peace between them only lasts long enough for Harry to watch a flock of birds fly across the sky until he looks back down at his boyfriend and says, "So, tell me, is that why your hairline's receding? You've been collecting your hair for future sex?"

In less than a second, Draco pulls Harry back to the ground and turns them over so that Harry's staring up at stormy grey eyes.

"Take that back, Potter!" Draco says. He's rather sensitive about his hair ever since Pansy mentioned it once when she and Draco were in the middle of an argument.

"I'm kidding," Harry says, reaching out to touch Draco's fringe to brush out the pieces of grass that have gotten stuck in his hair. Draco's hairline is not receding in the slightest and his hair is just as soft as when Harry first wove his fingers through them to pull Draco into an unexpected kiss three years ago. "You know I can never find anything wrong with you, right?

Instead of responding, Draco just brushes his fingers against Harry's jaw, smiling as he leans down to kiss him.

When they break apart, Harry can't resist asking the one question that's been on his mind since the beginning of their conversation. "I see you've put a lot of thought into ensuring sex at seventy is fantastic. Are you that confident we'll still be together when we're old and wrinkly?"

Harry knows he's said the wrong thing when Draco pulls away and flops back onto the grass, facing away from him. Looking over at Draco, Harry can see the rapid rise and fall of his chest that gets slower as time passes. It's a technique Draco uses when he wants to calm down so he doesn't say anything he might regret later and seeing that brings a twist in Harry's stomach.

For the next few minutes, there's silence as Harry stares at the clouds. The sky is so blue and it's such a perfect day and Harry hates to be the one to actually ruin what was supposed to be a fun day to themselves. If only he had kept his mouth shut, but after hearing all of Draco's plans, he wanted to make sure.

Harry's about to open his mouth to apologise and tell Draco to forget about the stupid question when Draco reaches up and grabs the Snitch, its wings fluttering madly as it tries to escape. With his other hand, Draco turns and reaches across the grass until Harry's hand is in his.

"Malfoys are never wrong," he says again and the intense look in his eyes takes Harry's breath away. "Marry me?"

Seconds pass, and in that time a whole range of emotions runs through Harry so fast that it's hard to process everything at the moment. It's unexpected, obviously, but nothing could be so right at the moment and he's absolutely thrilled beyond words. It opens up a world of possibilities for Harry and he has no problem in answering that particular question.

"Only you would turn a sex talk into a proposal," Harry says at last. But he's smiling and says yes, even more so when Draco drops the Snitch into his hands and both watch as it transforms back into its original shape, a simple gold ring.