4.

It must've been the poshest, most luxurious bed Neville has ever woken up in. He felt the comfortable mattress, the satin sheets, the snow goose-down duvet and probably same quality pillow – it was nothing he was very familiar with, apart maybe from that one time he was given the luxury suite by way of compensation in a swank hotel in Paris, when he went there with Orlando, and the room he'd booked had been given to someone else. But even that bed was not a patch on the one he was in now. Also, that room had been tidy, and the place he just now cast his eyes over was all but. Draco was a messy pup, that was clear… Funny, he thought. Wouldn't have guessed by looking at him. But then, he thought, people wouldn't probably guess that he himself was a bit of neat-freak… He had to be, he felt, living in his gran's house. She was very untidy, and in order for him to be able to find anything, he had to be on top of at least his own stuff. Which he was, to the point of obsessive.

The curtains were drawn, with enough of a gap for him to see the sun was shining, and he heard gulls in the distance, like he'd had in the past few days since he was teleported here by Ron and Draco, to aid his convalescing. He liked to hear the birds making their noises. It reminded him of the last time he had been to the South-West coast, with Luna. They'd booked a B&B together (separate rooms), and spent a week walking, and looking for seashells, and eating ice-cream, dodging seagulls who tried to nick their chips, and going to the Muggle amusement arcades, just to watch. It had been the summer after Orlando had left him and Luna was afraid he may do 'something silly', as she'd dubbed it. He had thought about it, doing something very silly while he was having a bad spell with the nightmares, but he actually felt a bit relieved. Orlando was a darling, and strong in ways that Neville never thought he was, but he was also very dominant and forceful, and Neville found himself starting to resent him slightly towards the end. His therapist had said that this was something he'd have to address, this need to fall in love with strong personalities, or else he's keep repeating the same pattern over and over. And then there was Draco Malfoy…

Draco was not in the bed with him, which saddened Neville, having felt on cloud nine when he realised where he was upon waking earlier. The realisation that he was in Draco's bed, had felt his arms around him when he woke up in the night, felt his breath in his neck, his stomach going in and out against his back as he breathed… He'd been kissed, and caressed, and made love to, and it had been wonderful…

He had been feeling so much better already last night, after the upset of the weeks before, when he hadn't really been aware of much more than his surroundings (albeit vaguely), the nurses and healers fussing over his wellbeing, and that of the others in the room, and of course the almost constant presence of Draco. It had comforted him a lot - he had been near despair a few times, feeling trapped inside his body, and then he'd feel his presence… He'd heard him talk, to him, or to the healers, and is voice had become a kind of beacon to Neville. His lovely voice… His, and that of the angel that appeared to be with him most of the time. Although that spoke rarely.

He heard a door open and close, footsteps on the boards outside. He was getting familiar with the sounds of the house, having heard them while he was in his bed the first days, resting. The day before yesterday he was feeling much better, and planted himself on the big velvet-covered dark-grey sofa after Draco had brought him breakfast in his bedroom, and he enjoyed the calm of the house. The quiet inside, and the crushing of the waves outside, the dogs that barked as they walked by with their owners, the seabirds, the odd car driving past, and Draco walking on the wooden boards of the veranda. It was all so different than his place in Yorkshire. The old Victorian house that was collapsing and he had no idea where to start with repairs, who to ask, when to fit it in… He could have just booked someone, people that Ron had recommended – Henry Brackett & Co. Timberwizards – but Neville just couldn't make his mind up. As organised as he was with his personal affairs, this kind of thing threw him. He'd always left it to his gran, and courage escaped him as soon as he thought about calling Ron's timberwizards… So he left it, and saw his house fall apart, slowly…

He closed his eyes for a second, willing himself to think of the night before, stopping the agony over the demise of his gran's house from overtaking his happiness, and as soon as he pictured Draco's face he noticed all gloom dissipating. He had touched that face, run his hands gently over the skin, run a thumb along his cheeks, his temple, felt his hair, grabbed it, tenderly, to pull him towards him for a blistering kiss. And he had been happy… No, happy wasn't it… Blissful came much closer…

They had woken up together, about an hour and a half before. Neville had opened his eyes to see Draco stare at him, watching as he must've slept, with a sweet smile on his face. His hair was all mussed, Neville remembered gleefully. He was slightly self-conscious of his own appearance, but that faded when he saw Draco move to touch his face, stroke it carefully and draw near to kiss him, hear him say 'Good morning, my sweet', which sounded so fantastic to Neville. He had smiled back, unable to say anything. He had placed a hand on Draco's chest for a while, and felt his heart beating fast, obviously as excited as he himself had been feeling. They had talked for a while, about what they might do later today, and cuddled and gazed at each other, smiling, and Draco had then told him to go back to sleep, he would go and see if the bakers' was open yet, and he'd get them croissants, and make some coffee. He had kissed him again and got himself dressed. He put on a pair of worn-out jeans, a white t-shirt (which should be forbidden, Neville told him, for the obscene thoughts that came into his mind when he saw Draco in it) and Neville saw him leave the room, after turning to grab a long sleeved shirt off the chair that was near the door, then smile and air-kiss him, and then Neville was alone again. He'd fallen asleep almost immediately, as he was still easily tired, and now that he was awake again, he was keen to have that gorgeous body nearby.

The spray of the ocean felt invigorating, if not a bit chilly. This must've been the coldest August to memory, Draco thought, as he walked along the shoreline which was in view of his house. But it would do for the mood he had found himself in as soon as he'd left the bedroom, with a slumbering Neville still in his bed.

He hadn't wanted to leave him there, he had been very keen to repeat some of the stuff they'd done the night before – kissing him, and holding him in his arms, and feeling Neville's skin on his body, making each other reach a climax in the beautiful game that making love was becoming. But something made him go. He needed to think, and with Neville in his arms that was impossible.

These feelings were new to Draco. Feelings of exhilaration, and bliss, caused by being with another man, feeling that the world was okay, now that this man, this lovely, sweet, wonderful man was in his life, in his bed, in his arms, in his heart, and he wasn't sure what to make of that. Nobody had made him feel this way before. He wouldn't let them…

Was this normal? Was this what people were supposed to feel? This great? But what if that stopped? This kind of bliss surely wouldn't last forever? Would he be feeling lonely again, and distant, and cold? What if he'd hurt Neville? Break his heart with stuff that came way more natural to Draco than all of this lovey-dovey stuff? Would he be alright? He knew Neville was made of sterner stuff, he'd seen him in action during the war… He'd been quite amazed at the heroism of this unassuming guy, this guy who wouldn't hurt a fly under normal circumstances… He'd taken on Death Eaters… The fuck…

That last thought made him smile – Neville the slayer…

His Neville…

A dog approached him, barking and looking delighted to be allowed off the leash. He knew the dog well, and the woman who owned him, and saw her in the distance, smiling at him, calling for her dog, knowing it had no effect when Draco was in sight.

'Hey, Barney!' Draco yelled when the dog almost reached him. 'How nice to see you, buddy… Come here.' Draco rubbed his fleece as the dog jumped up to greet him. About once a week he'd be doing this, and Barney was so far the only dog he allowed near him. Mainly cos Barney was incredibly tenacious, friendly to match.

'Hey Draco,' the woman said when she'd caught up with her dog. 'Cold this morning, isn't it?'

'Jeez, yeah, hard to think it's summer…' Draco smiled.

'Well, you know – Scotland…' Kiera, as the woman was called, sniggered. 'You okay? Haven't seen you here for a while… Holiday?'

Draco realised that he had indeed not been out onto the beach for a week or two, due to his devotion to Neville's recovery.

'Not quite, no. Long story…' he knew she was a witch, and had most likely heard of the Infatio curse, but he wasn't sure that he'd want her to know. He would probably tell her about Neville, and he wasn't sure if he wanted to yet.

'Is it to do with that curse that took that poor guy's life?'

Right… She knew then.

'Partly, yeah. I had to look into it, make sure that… You know…' he found himself stumbling along. 'Also, a friend of mine was cursed, and I wanted to stay near him…'

'Friend? Boyfriend?' Kiera smiled.

'No! Not rea-… Well… Sort of, yeah.'

'Well, is he or isn't he?'

None of your business, Draco wanted to say. I hardly know you… But Kiera had a pleasant way about her, and in the many times they'd met on the beach, they'd developed a quirky connection, purely based on coming across each other there, with Barney as a leaping, almost silent associate. Draco felt himself blush, and didn't look into Kiera's eyes.

'I think so,' he mumbled after a while.

'But you're not sure…' she put a hand on his arm. 'Oh pet… Love's first wonky steps…'

Draco laughed, feeling nervous. 'I like him… A lot. He's sweet, and kind, and I feel really weird when I'm near him… But I don't know how to…'

'Och, Draco dear…'

He looked at Kiera, who was all ears, and he knew that she'd listen to him for another hour, but he suddenly felt a bit daft, talking to this sixty-odd year old witch, who's dog was racing around the sand like it was chased by a flock of Dementors, so he stopped talking.

'I was with a guy once, years ago,' Kiera carried on, seeing the doubt in Draco's eyes. 'And he was the same as you… All proud and reserved and really good looking, and I loved being with him… I always felt safe, like he'd protect me against anything. And we were really good together, for a long time. The only thing that he had trouble with, and that was our downfall in the end, was that he would never tell me, or show me, that he loved me… He just couldn't… Too much happened in his childhood, I found out later, and I thought I could love for both of us… But you just can't keep that going…' she smiled at him again. 'Don't let your past get in the way of this guy, Draco…'

Draco smiled back, doubt still hanging around.

'Yes, but what if I hurt him, like your husband did to you?'

'Partner – we were never married…' Kiera looked out over the water for a while. 'But what if you don't?'

'I've never had a proper relationship before… Not felt anything like I do for Nevi-… For this guy…'

'This crazy thing called love…' Kiera sang.

'Yeah, that,' Draco smiled. 'What if I fuck it up?'

'Neville… Longbottom, you mean?' Kiera looked at Draco incessantly, who nodded, surprised, 'I knew his parents, well his mum, Alice… If he's anything like them, you've got a good one there, Draco Malfoy… He's brave, from what I heard… And he'll need to be if he's going to love you…'

The both laughed, and Draco made a facial expression of understanding what she meant.

'He'll be fine, he's a tough cookie, he's been loved plenty in his younger years… Now you be brave, and allow that heart of yours to melt a bit…' she moved her hand to put it on Draco's chest. 'Give it time. He'll help you, I'm sure…'

'Okay,' Draco croaked, ready to weep. 'Maybe you're right…'

'Maybe?!' she laughed out loud. Then she put an arm around him, squeezed him a bit. 'Stop thinking so much… That gets in the way of what you feel…'

Barney had by now calmed a bit, and Kiera whistled for him to go back to the car.

'Thanks, Kiera… I needed that…'

He waved as she wandered off to the place where she'd parked her car, gave Barney one last cuddle and slowly walked back to the house, allowing the spray of the crashing waves to make him get wet. Allow your heart to melt… Hm… How does that work then?

Stop thinking…

Okay… That was new…

He looked at the house, his house, which looked great as the morning sun shone on it.

'Croissants,' he said to himself. 'I promised him croissants…'

Neville had poured himself a third cup of tea from the big white teapot when he heard a car door slam in the distance. He was sitting on one of the high chairs by the big wooden table in the kitchen (which was surprisingly cosy, with lots of wooden features and postcards from all over the world stuck on cabinet doors and hanging from shelves), pensively running a finger over the rim of the cup. Draco had been gone for a long time, and he was starting to worry. He'd probably changed his mind about them, done a runner… It was stupid of him to think that Draco Malfoy was going to fall in love with him. Commit to him… He may have sat by his bed for a week, but that could well have been guilt, or some misplaced sense of obligation… What reason did he have to want more from Neville than a bit of fun, like last night?

Oh well. He should probably think about having a shower, wash off the sweat and the kisses, the invisible marks of the intimacy shared. Get himself dressed, and ready for a day of silence, of awkward glances, and maybe he should think of going back to his house in Yorkshire. He had been well enough for sex…

The back door opened, and in walked Draco with a paper bag from the local baker's, and a plastic bag with some other groceries in it. He took off his shoes and nudged them into the corner.

'Hey! You're up!' Draco beamed when he noticed Neville sitting at the table. He put the bags on the worktop and walked up to him, his coat still on, the cold from outside hanging around him. He leaned forward and laid his lips on Neville's, all cool and tasting of the ocean. Neville let him, felt his own lips melt with Draco's, and he sighed with relief. No runner then, just this.

Just this… Nothing just this about this kiss… As none of Draco's kisses were just a kiss, so far.

After a bit he pulled away, and stroked Neville's face.

'I was going to surprise you with coffee and these croissants…' he said, pretending to be disappointed.

'Well, you were ages, and I was gasping for a drink…' Neville mocked being hacked off.

'I'm so sorry, Nev… I got chatting with Kiera, who walks her dog on the beach here…' Draco pulled a sulky lip, which made Neville laugh, and pull his host closer to him by the lapels of his jacket, 'can you forgive me?'

'Maybe…' Neville tried to look stern, then smiled and moved his lips closer to Draco's and when they touched, he had no idea what he was thinking any more, apart from how nice those lips tasted, how much he enjoyed letting his tongue lightly roam over Draco's lips, feel his teeth, and the warm, moist insides of his mouth. There was nothing better he could imagine at that exact moment…

He tasted Draco's yearning, or whatever he'd call it. He felt his tongue move gently inside his mouth, playful, deepening the kiss intensely. He groaned a bit, cos he couldn't help it, and that appeared to be a cue for Draco, who wrapped his arms around him, holding him tightly, and Neville felt the warmth of that, as his own body responded in kind. Draco took off his jacket, and dropped it on the chair next to them, never letting go of Neville's mouth, smiling through it. He parted his legs so that Draco could get closer and made sure he was holding on again, getting extremely aroused by the feel of those jeans erotically grinding against his groin. He felt a hand in his hair, other hand on his neck, sliding down to touch underneath his t-shirt, and after a few seconds Neville lifted his arms so that it would easily slide off his body. He then did the same with that wicked white shirt he'd seen Draco put on earlier, revealing that upper body again, and his kisses lead him downward, from Draco's neck to his chest, on to his stomach, and he revelled in the delights of his oversensitive mouth on warm skin. He heard Draco make little sounds, somewhere in the distance, and that set him off completely.

'Do you want to…' Draco's deep voice murmured, looking in the direction of his bedroom.

'No,' breathed Neville, not letting go of anything he was embracing.

'You mean here, in my kitchen…' Draco whispered, looking Neville in the eyes, grinning wickedly.

Neville nodded, gazing back, raising an eyebrow in the most suggestive way possible, which made Draco whimper, then latch back onto his lips, and Neville couldn't believe the eagerness he was kissed with.

He let his hand slide over the front of Draco's jeans, hell-bent on taking it off, which Draco was quite happy to help him with. He undid the button at the top and left Neville to do the zip, relishing the feeling of being helped out of his garments, one by one, in the meantime kissing and panting for breath. He moved a hand towards Neville's shorts, slid it inside, touching his behind, then moving his hand around and felt how ready he was for release.

Kneeling down in front of him, he set about relieving Neville, who had slipped off the chair, threw his head back in ecstasy, moaned like his life depended on it, holding Draco's head as he writhed and moved along in the slow rhythm that his lover was dictating. Draco couldn't believe the filthy groan he heard when he came, how that was probably heard by whoever was walking their dog on the shore right then.

Neville couldn't believe he was this unabashed, felt the beginning of shame well up from somewhere deep down, but at the same time loved the way it made him feel. Jesus Christ… If sex with Draco was going to be like this every time, they could scoop him up by next week…

He saw Draco move up and grin mischievously at him, then take him in his arms and hug him tightly.

'Oh man, that was worth everything I own, Neville Longbottom, hearing you come like that…' Draco whispered in his ear. Neville never felt so embarrassed before in his life.

The next couple of days were spent in much the same fashion, getting to know each other a bit better all the time, often in bed, but also going for long walks by the ocean, talking to each other over mealtimes, getting in some shopping in the nearby village, leaving each other be for amounts of time, and snuggling up on the sofa together, reading, or listening to music. Draco not really believing that he could feel this happy.

He was caressing Neville, who's head was resting on his lap while he sat on the sofa, dozing off after a long walk in strong wind and some rain, holding his hand having studied it for minutes, pressing light kisses on it, now threading his fingers through them. Suddenly the words Kiera spoke to him a few days earlier floated into his mind, annoyingly clear, and he thought about things to make them go away. They weren't going to budge, he noticed. He closed his eyes for a second, brought Neville's hand back up to his mouth, and stroking his head, as it was lying on his legs. His silky dark hair fell languidly on the arm of the sofa, over his jeans, and Draco ran some fingers through it. God, he was beautiful, he thought. When did that happen? What did that matter, now that he here, snoozing? Now that life was so sweet…

He winced at the thought of how bored he had been getting with the dating scene, how shallow the hooking up with admittedly good looking blokes (and at times really average ones) was becoming, never getting to know more of each other than very superficial nothingness. He was ready to chuck in dating anybody at all, had he not found that even getting to know a bit of Neville in the past weeks was enough to restore his hopes…

He carried on looking at Neville sleeping, and felt a rush of warmth and affection course through his body. Uncontrollable, and with a force he'd never felt before. Care, tenderness – Draco was unaware of the tears that rolled down his cheeks, as if a vessel had been opened, and he just had to ride this one. Was this what he'd been missing all his life?

He closed his eyes again, aware of the tears now, and he let them come, roll down his face, into his shirt, and he saw that angel again, the one that spoke to him in the disused bathroom in St. Mungo's. He saw her smile, kindly, and Draco smiled back. Then she floated away, and he opened his eyes, ready for whatever came next.

He looked down, and saw Neville smile up at him.

'You okay?' he said, caring. 'Looks like you've cried…' He moved up to be able to touch Draco, comfort him.

'Yeah, I'm fine… you go back to sleep,' Draco answered, taken aback by the way Neville just looking up at him made him feel. How can a look be that intimate? How much has he missed out on in all these years…?

'Nah, I'm alright…' Neville was sitting up by now, looking at him, trying to figure him out. 'You've been crying… What's the matter?'

Draco felt slightly silly for having Neville run a thumb along his temple, looking him in the eyes, full of concern. Like his mother used to, twenty years ago… What should he do now? Show him that he wasn't in control? Surrender his autonomy?

'I'm fine, Nev… Just thinking about some stuff… Nothing important…' Draco smiled, apparently convincingly, cos Neville smiled back.

'Talk to me if there is something, Draco, yeah? If I can help…'

'There is nothing, really…' Draco needed to steer this conversation in another direction, he felt. 'Coffee? Or shall I make a start on dinner?'

'Nah I'm fine for now… Not hungry… For food anyway…'

Draco just smiled at what he was insinuation, but didn't go into it. He wasn't particularly in that mood. To his amazement…

'Were you thinking about your family?' Neville carried on after a short silence. He'd pulled his legs up in such a way that he was snuggled up close to Draco, and that felt really rather comfortable. His hand was in Draco's, and his head leaning on his shoulder. He could get used to this…

'No, not really. I do think about my mother quite a bit, but I don't worry so much about her. I told her the other day that I'd met someone that I'm feeling quite serious about and…' he stopped there for a bit. Had he just told Neville that he was serious about him?

He felt a kiss in his neck.

'You mean that?' he heard whispered, and his skin tickled.

'Uh-huh…' Draco couldn't see Neville's face, and was curious to see what the expression on it was. Neville was very easy to read.

'And was she okay with that? Did you tell her it was me?'

'I did, actually. She just wouldn't let up when I said I was seeing someone, and that I really liked this person, and she just wouldn't stop asking me until I told her a name,' Draco's voice had become quiet. Telling his mother had been a big deal for him, not because he worried about her views on him being gay (like most wizards he knew she wasn't bothered at all), but he was a little bit apprehensive about what she might have to say about Neville.

'And what did she say?'

'She said: 'Neville Longbottom? Wasn't he the one that challenged Lord Voldemort right at the end? And then went on to behead that hideous snake?'' he'd altered his voice a little to make it sound more feminine, and Neville sniggered at what he heard.

'Did she really say that?'

'Yeah. She likes you, I bet… Wants to meet you…'

What?! She wants to meet me?' Neville sounded panicky. 'You are joking, right?'

'No, I'm not… She was dead serious… She said: I liked the cut of his jib back at Hogwarts, and I'm quite astonished he chose to be with you… I can't wait to meet this remarkable man…'

Neville had moved so that he could look Draco in the eye.

'Your mum wants to meet me? When?'

'I don't know, we haven't arranged a time yet. I said that I'd run it past you first…'

'Merlin, Draco…'

'It's only my mother…'

'Only your mother?! Only your mother…?!'

'Neville, you're not saying you're intimidated by my mother?' Draco turned to smile in astonishment at the man on his side.

'Um, I know she's your mum, and that you love her and all that, but she used to freak the sh-… I think I preferred some basilisks on some days…'

'My mother? Really?'

'Yes, really…' Neville looked at Draco earnestly. 'She and your dad… They were like some sort of wizard terror squad to me…'

Draco was laughing out loud now, gesturing to Neville that he really couldn't help himself. 'I'm so sorry, my darling… I didn't…' and he was laughing again… 'My mother…'

'Glad you think it was funny…'

'It is… And you'll see what i mean, once you get to know her… She's fine, Nev… She's a real darling… She's the reason I'm able to feel anything remotely resembling love…' again he stopped mid-sentence.

'Carry on…' Neville was looking into his eyes again, willing him to speak his feelings.

'No, it's alright…'

'Remotely resembling love… you were saying…'

Draco felt himself blush liberally, then felt Neville's hand on his face, making it turn his way, and he did all he could to not meet his eyes.

'It's okay, Draco… You won't be eaten by a Hungarian Horntail if you admit to those feelings… I've never heard of it happen thus far, anyway…'

He then glanced up and looked into Neville's hazel eyes, and he felt that jolt in his abdomen again. A warm glow followed, and he knew that there was no going back.

'You absolutely sure?' he tried to ease the tension he was feeling.

He saw Neville had put his head on the back of the sofa, still intently looking at him, smiling, and he smiled back.

'Neville Longbottom… Somehow you've managed to break my resolve never to become one of those soppy blokes that…'

Another smile… How did that smile make him feel so incredibly daft?

'Draco, I've never felt this way about anybody before, if that makes you feel any better…' Neville whispered, his head still askew, hazel eyes gazing into his own. His smile revealing a row of lovely teeth.

'I feel too self-conscious now...' Draco giggled. 'It's like you're making me say it, and I can't…'

'Maybe I can help you with that a bit,' Neville whispered, and moved his hand to grab his head, gently moving it so that his mouth could catch Draco's. The sensation of that was exquisite, and Draco relaxed into it some more. Neville's lips were soft, and moist, and they managed to undo him in seconds. He opened his mouth slightly, giving Neville's tongue the space to slide in, and he felt himself heat up quickly. How did a kiss like that make him feel so alive, so incredible? All he wanted was to touch Neville, to feel his naked body on his, his hands caressing him, his gaze comforting him… Nothing else would be enough. Not after this time with this wretched thing called love…

He slid his hand inside Neville's shirt, feeling the warm skin underneath, and carried on kissing him, no desire to do anything else for the next few days. That would be great – to be able to kiss Neville for ever… He couldn't stifle a laugh, and that broke the spell slightly.

'What?' Neville asked quietly, not moving his mouth very far away.

'Nothing… Just wondered what it would be like if I could just carry on snogging you like this… For ever…'

'Sounds good to me…' They kissed some more, until Draco moved back slightly, enough to catch Neville's eyes. He looked into them, mustering up the nerve to say what he was feeling, and just decided to throw caution to the wind.

'Neville… I feel… I need to…' he rubbed his eyes, for a bit more time, feeling Neville's hands squeeze the side of his body, where it'd been lying. 'Neville, I love you… So fucking much…'

Neville smiled, no beamed at him, and moved in for a searing kiss, which pushed Draco into the corner of the sofa.

'I know…' he heard a deep voice in his neck rumble. It sounded nothing like any kind of angel in heaven, but it delighted Draco more than anything he'd ever heard.

- end -