Disclaimer: Everything recogniseable belongs to J.K. Rowling... The rest is from my own imagination.
October and the impending wedding drew nearer, and though Harry had already told Draco that he would be more than willing to move in with him, he was still in two minds about actually doing it.
Living together meant that several things would have to change. Harry was not the type of person who enjoyed being dependent on other people to provide for him, nor did he like to intrude on others' privacy. Though he and Draco had discussed that they would both pay for groceries and anything else they needed, it was still Draco's house, Draco's bed and Draco's things. Harry consoled himself slightly that even if he didn't like sharing a house with Draco, he didn't have to stay there for long. Conflicting views were bound to come up between them, just like in any relationship, and Harry was ready to tackle them when the time came, if the time came.
What was really bothering him was that he'd have to say farewell to his best friend, the one constant in his life, sooner rather than later, and get ready to greet a new chapter with only a part of Ron left. The two had mended their friendship again on Harry's twenty-third birthday, very awkwardly, when Ron and Hermione arrived for dinner at Malfoy Manor (Draco's idea), causing Hermione to cry and Draco to roll his eyes, but it definitely removed one more stress from their lives and vastly improved their teamwork.
Harry knew that he was probably being a little bit selfish, but he couldn't help but worry that his "new" life would entail much more time by himself than he was used to. Though he supposed he was growing used to the idea, he knew it was going to be extremely difficult for him when Ron moved out permanently after the wedding.
Both Ron and Hermione were getting more and more excited about their plans, talking about their honeymoon and arguing over the guest list. ("You have to invite Percy!" Hermione had exclaimed upon looking at Ron's provisional list. "No fucking way!" Ron screamed back. "Do you honestly think that any of us have ever properly gotten over his treason to our family? No! Besides, Fred and George would hex him the moment he set foot in the place!") Harry personally felt that Ron was quite right, but chose not to openly defend him – Hermione was often rather hysterical when her plans were changed abruptly, no matter how slightly. They then found out towards the end of August that Molly Weasley had already owled Percy to tell him of the upcoming nuptials, and he replied saying that he was very sorry he couldn't make it, for he had a previous political engagement. He sent them a gift of very expensive bed linens (chosen by his personal assistant), which seemed to put both Ron and Hermione in a better mood.
A few weeks before the Big Day, Harry and Ron had arrived from work one day to find their flat upholstered in flowers, wedding dress material, colour swatches and invitation samples. This was followed nearly every day by something else required for the wedding party, not to mention hordes of women who were being fitted for their dresses by the designer, who had apparently taken up residence.
Then, one day in the beginning of September, Harry returned home from a particularly hard week of training and reporting to find his bed covered in drying parchment invitations, and decided that he'd had enough. After scribbling a quick note to Ron, telling him where he was going, Harry slipped out of the flat and down the stairwell and Apparated to Draco's front door to seek solace from the madhouse.
"Mmm, that feels good," Harry murmured.
He and Draco lay in the bath, glasses of their favourite Pinot Grigio resting on the outside rim of the tub in the bathroom, soft music playing, candles gently burning, while Draco gave him a long-promised and well-deserved massage. He groaned in pleasure as Draco kneaded and soothed the aching muscles of his neck and back with firm strokes of his fingers and palms.
"What did I do to deserve you?" Harry sighed thankfully fifteen minutes later when Draco stopped.
"You're just a lucky bloke, I suppose," said Draco, handing him his glass, charmed to stay cold even in the warmth of the room. He slipped his hands below the water and rested them lightly on Harry's belly, letting his fingers sweep gently over the skin.
Harry dropped his head back on Draco's shoulder, closing his eyes, allowing his body to fully relax.
Draco wrapped his arms closer around Harry and kissed his face softly, breathing in the light scent of the bubble bath on his skin.
"I could really use nights like this more often. It's amazing that I'm not even playing an enormous part in planning this wedding and already I feel completely saturated by it," Harry said in a tired voice.
"Don't you worry, sweets – a few more weeks and you can have me every night for a whole month," Draco said.
"I'll believe it when I see it."
"Ye of little faith. You don't think I'll treat you well?"
Harry snorted. "Not every night."
"Well, I suppose that's true. I expect to have at least one night a week of pampering."
"Yeah, you can have Sundays."
Draco chuckled and took a slug of wine. "Do you think we'll kill each other before the month is over?" he asked thoughtfully.
"I don't think about such things. It's not as though we'll be spending every living moment together; one of us is bound to have to work late a night or two a week, and I'm sure I'm going to be called out to a mission at some point – we're a little short-staffed lately, so no, I don't think we'll kill each other before I get my new flat."
"Well, we've only been together for five months; I'm just worried that we don't know enough about each other."
"We don't, but that's the fun part, isn't it? Getting to know everything, or mostly everything?"
"Yes, I suppose you're right. I'm sorry I brought it up."
"Don't be, I understand. I mean, what if you find out something you don't like and can't bear to deal with it?" Harry said matter-of-factly. "But don't concern yourself too much. We're only forced together for a month, and then we can continue proper relationship-building without the co-habitation, like normal people."
His tone, though light, had certain stiffness about it.
"I just want to avoid major conflict that could turn ugly," Draco said, trying to explain himself without making Harry feel like it was a chore for Draco to share his house.
"Why do you automatically think that we're going to encounter such great conflict? We get along alright, don't we?"
"Yes, we do, but I'm only looking for faults in the design."
Harry paused, his eyebrow raised, "'Faults in the design'? Who says that?"
"I do. What are we supposed to do if something goes really, really wrong and we can't fix it? I would hate for us to have to suffer."
"Draco, this isn't one of your potions that you have to spend hours on looking for mistakes in the ingredient list. We're bound to fight occasionally. Hogwarts was a long time ago. I don't hate you, you don't hate me. We grew up, now get over it and at least pretend to be happy that we're playing house for a little while." Harry stood up and grabbed his towel before getting out of the bath. Draco's negativity was really getting to him.
"I didn't mean it like that, Harry."
"Didn't mean it like what, Draco? Like you're having doubts about us living together? You can tell me now, and I'll go and stay with Remus and Tonks if you'd prefer."
Bugger!
"Harry, I'm sorry. I'm just… worried that we're going to find something too big to handle and I'll – I'll…"
His last words were too quiet for Harry to hear. "Sorry? I missed that."
Draco raised bruised eyes to Harry. "I'll have to let you go."
"Why are you worrying about that now, you dolt? We haven't even begun properly living together, and this is what's doing you in?"
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I just worry too much; blame my mother. It's something I have to work on," Draco said, dropping his eyes and feeling heat rise in his face. You're such an idiot, Draco.
"I'd say so. Now, come along, Mr. Malfoy, I've got something to take your mind off your worries."
"Have you?"
"Yes. It involves your ultimate undoing at the many talents of my tongue."
"Full of yourself, aren't you?"
"Marginally, but I can guarantee that I'll be full of you once you get out of the bath."
"Sounds exciting, Mr. Potter." Draco grinned at Harry and climbed out of the tub to display his body, hot and wet, his cock half-hard already.
Harry unfolded a towel and began to dry his lover off slowly, leaving his penis for last. Getting to his knees in front of Draco, Harry inhaled deeply and began to blow lightly on the wet flesh, drying it with his breath, smiling delightedly at the twitch he got in response.
"Hmm, I don't think this part of you is properly clean," Harry said, his fingertips drawing slow, teasing circles over Draco's groin.
"Please, be my guest and see if you can do a better job then," Draco replied, his voice mildly unsteady.
"Happily." Harry's hands slipped around Draco's back to cup his arse-cheeks, his lips pressing warm little kisses to Draco's navel, darting his tongue out for a taste.
A gravelly moan of pleasure escaped Draco as Harry's hot mouth came into contact with his swollen sex, and his hand moved to Harry's head, following the bobbing motion. Talented tongue indeed!
"Oh, fuck." Draco almost lost his balance when Harry sucked him all the way in, and he could feel the head of his cock at the back of Harry's throat, feel the muscles pulling him closer to the edge.
When Draco's knees began to shake, Harry released him with a popping noise, unwilling to let him come just yet.
"Bastard!" Draco growled through gritted teeth. He lunged at Harry, nearly sending him flying back into the tub. They both toppled to the floor in a tangle of arms and legs, hands reaching, both fighting for dominance. Draco, being taller, stretched out over a struggling Harry, pinning his arms on either side of his head.
"Serves you right," he snarled. But Harry smiled and relaxed into submission as Draco's lips claimed his, tongues dancing over and around each other, fingers caressing and preparing.
Draco Summoned lube from the bedroom and covered his aching cock with liberal amounts, before slipping some inside of Harry, kissing him as he squirmed in mild discomfort. Taking himself in hand, he pushed against Harry's entrance, moaning in delight as he breached the muscle.
"So good," Harry muttered, his legs tightening around his lover, angling his hips to receive the sweet burn of Draco's cock, gasping as he felt the head brush his prostate.
"Tell me how you want it, Harry," Draco said, pulling out of Harry up to the tip of his cock, dropping butterfly kisses along his jaw and chin.
Harry smiled, pulling his lower lip into his mouth, and releasing it, red and moist, a vision so enticing, it was all Draco could do not to attack his mouth any further. His green eyes sparkled, the dark flecks around his pupil particularly pronounced.
"Go slow."
Draco moaned, his fingers scrabbling to no avail for a hold on the tiles of the bathroom floor. All he wanted to do was plunge in with reckless abandon until he emptied his seed. Harry knew this and challenged him, and Draco couldn't resist. He pushed back in, burying himself deeply into Harry's core, feeling their bodies meld together as if they were whole.
Harry reached up and pulled Draco's head down, bringing their lips together, as Draco continued his slow, deliberate movements, pushing them both to the point of the ultimate pleasure.
Unable to refrain from more stimulation, Harry began to stroke himself between their bellies, and his moans caused Draco to forget that he was supposed to be slowly torturing his lover.
"You're such a tease," Draco snapped. Clenching his buttocks, he picked up speed, driving in and out with such force that he pushed Harry's body away from him. Balancing on one arm, he gripped Harry's waist, holding him down as best he could. Harry clung to him, fingernails scratching down Draco's back, his breathing hitching with each thrust. He lifted his hips higher off the floor, moaning louder still when Draco placed his hand over Harry's hips, pulling him to completion. Crying out with relief, Draco delivered his last thrust and collapsed against his partner.
"Seems like our first bath was in vain, doesn't it?" Draco said several minutes later.
They were still lying on the damp tiles, the fruit of Harry's orgasm between them, warm and sticky.
"Always time for another," Harry replied, his arm over his eyes.
"I'm exhausted. Why don't you give me a bath this time?"
"I would, but my body doesn't appear to be co-operating with what my mind is telling it."
"We can't stay here forever, Harry. Maybe we should, I dunno, roll in?"
Harry snorted with laughter. "My wand is around here somewhere, I can move you if you move me."
"We're arseholes, you know that, right?"
"I think 'lazy' is the more appropriate term." Harry groaned and sat up, reaching quickly for a washcloth to start cleaning up their mess.
Draco watched him through half-closed eyes, grinning goofily.
"Don't think I'm going to sit here all night and give you a sponge bath; we still have to crawl our way to bed."
"No, I was right, 'arseholes' is what we are," Draco said, pushing himself to sit up. "Oh, blimey, I'm tired."
After finally cleaning themselves up properly, the two men crawled into bed and curled naturally into each other's bodies.
"You know, for two people who hated each other's guts as kids, we certainly fit quite well together," Harry commented. "I don't know what you're so worried about."
"Oh, Potter, you know I could never have been with anyone who didn't challenge me beyond even my own expectations. You fit that bill better than anyone I've ever met."
"You know, you were actually really nice to me the first time we met, but then you brought on that bullshit about being pureblood, and I got scared that I'd never fit in at Hogwarts, my only refuge from my mother's family."
"Well, you know who to blame for the 'pureblood bullshit'; it's just what I was taught. Then, along the way, it seemed to matter less and less in the world, and I wondered who made it so important. Then, after everything that happened with Voldemort, Father managed to be cleared of all his charges, getting off with an enormous fine and under the condition that he remain under surveillance for fifteen years. Malfoy Manor was far too public. Even though it's warded, people can still find ways to infiltrate, so we moved to France. He still believes that everyone who isn't him is beneath him, though, including me."
"I'm bloody glad that you didn't turn out to be him. I really thought you were going to," Harry said, stroking his lover's arm where a Dark Mark could have been burned. He felt Draco shudder and stopped, moving his hand instead to caress his hair.
"I still get scared sometimes that there's someone else out there, chomping at the bit to carry on Voldemort's work."
"Hello? Auror," Harry said, trying to reassure him that at least in that department, things were under control.
"That's what scares me, Harry. You're still the Boy Who Lived; there will always be people there to persecute you for giving others the chance to live."
In the silence, Harry could feel Draco's rapidly beating heart and, so slight he almost missed it, a shiver.
In that moment, Harry vowed to himself that, no matter what, he'd never allow anything bad to befall his Slytherin prince.