Harry worried. He worried about the dark lord. He worried about his friends. He worried about a lot of things, far to many for an eighteen year old boy, but he worried all the same. He especially worried about his lover. He worried he would say the wrong thing, grab the wrong cup, or sleep on the wrong side of the bed.
Harry worried that he would pull to hard or push to slow.
He worried he would finish to fast or take to long.
He even worried that he wouldn't hold Draco right, that Draco would finally have enough and leave all because his hand was on the wrong hip or that he had placed a kiss on the wrong shoulder.
And so he asked. He asked everything. This morning while he was getting coffee, he asked.
"Draco, may I use this mug?" Draco had looked at him a moment, causing small ripples of panic to race through him, but then...
"Yes, Harry, you may." The blonde then turned back to the morning paper and Harry let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding.
He asked later that day when Draco appeared in his dorm with a smirk on his face, dressed in pig tails and a skirt, making his left hand twitch slightly toward him.
"Draco, may I touch you?" Draco's smile wavered slightly and Harry was afraid, but then...
"Yes, Harry, you may." And he did, he touched Draco everywhere.
He asked that evening when Ron was practically tearing out his now green hair.
"Draco, may I turn his hair back?" Draco sighed and Harry was quick to apologize, but then...
"Yes, Harry, you may." This was how it was. Harry would ask and Draco would reply. For two years now this was how it was.
"Draco, may I.."
"Yes, Harry, you may." But then...
"Draco, may I-" He was cut off in the middle of asking if he could join his lover in playing hide and seek with the spirits of Westchester Graveyard.
"Yes, Harry, you may!" Draco gave him and intense look and started to walk toward the frowning Gryffindor. Harry took an unconcious step back.
"Wha-" Harry was desperately trying to figure out what he had done wrong, and as Draco took another step toward him, he found himself backed up against one of the cold stone mosoleums.
"You may play with me. You may! You may hold me when I sleep! You may! You may! You may!" Draco was yelling now, wild eyes frantically searching Harry's, arms waving around manically. Harry tried to step in, but Draco was not finished yet.
"You may play with my hair when your bored! You may touch me whenever you like! You may call me Dragon, or Drake, or yours! You may yell at me when you get mad!" Slim, pale fingers had twisted themselved into the front of Harry's shirt and Drace was now only whispering.
"You may have the last roll. You may drink out of any cup in the whole fucking house! You may kiss me and hold me and devour me! Please! You may!" Harry's arms had wrapped themselves around Draco and were holding tight around the smaller blondes waist. The green-eyed boy gingerly wiped tears from his lovers eyes and listened as he whispered more.
"You may invite whoever you wish to our flat. You may give me gifts for no reason. You may disagree with. Yes, Harry, you may... you may... but Harry.." And now Draco looked up, looking into smiling green eyes, "You may not ask me if you can, anymore. Not again." Harry beamed and crushed his lips to the blonde boy before him.
"Draco, may I love you?" Harry asked, his lips brushing against the blondes.
"Yes, Harry, you may."
Silence: whoot whoot! SEQUEL!
Draco:... I don't think she's ever going to get over HP6
Harry: ... she made ma and insecure freak
Draco: but a hot dominant insecure freak
Harry:...