Summary: Harry comes home from a mission

A/N: Slight mentions of a sexual nature, otherwise this is a fluffy, over-emotional Draco fic

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

"Not now, Honey," Draco murmured as he added some salt and pepper to the vegetables cooking on the stove. "I'm almost done with dinner."

"Dad," Albus whined, pulling at the blond's shirt. "Dad," he tugged harder.

Huffing and puffing, Draco set the peppershaker on the counter and glanced at the clock—Harry would be home in less than fifteen minutes. It had been a long week for Draco, a long week without Harry and only a cold bed for company.

Draco hated when Harry had to leave for long missions. It always took them longer than the time he was gone to get back into the swing of things.

"What is it, Alby?" he asked on a heavy sigh.

The four-year-old replica of Harry fidgeted, looking down at the kitchen tiles as if they held all the answers in the world. He sniffled and rubbed his nose with the back of his hand.

Forgetting about dinner preparations, Draco dropped to his knees and tried to capture his son's attention. He gently touched his index finger to the bottom of the boy's chin and tilted his face toward him. "Alby?"

The moment Al's tear-lined emerald eyes met his, Draco felt his own heart break. Drawing his son into a fierce hug, Draco kissed Alby's temple as the little boy cried into his shoulder. "I'm so sorry," he whispered. "It's a little tough without Daddy," he explained honestly.

"I miss Daddy," Albus whimpered and buried his wet face into Draco's neck.

"I know, love," the blond responded while rubbing soothing circles into his son's back. "I miss him too."

"Do you think he still loves us?"

The question caught Draco so off guard that he almost cursed. He'd be lying if he hadn't thought about that a few times during his ten-year relationship with the other man. It's not like Harry didn't have gorgeous young men throwing themselves at him, letting Draco know that he could have anyone he wanted.

And who was to say if Harry did slip-up that Draco would ever know? Despite being on friendly terms with most of Harry's inner-circle, they would easily hide something like that from him.

He scanned the room around him and noted the drawings all over the refrigerator, the breakfast nook garnished with a vase that Jamie had made as an art project, the tiny fingerprints on every surface from Lily's constantly sticky hands, the magical stain on the curtains from Scorp's potions experiment gone awry, and the ever leaky faucet in the sink. Would Harry meet someone with less baggage and history and leave the house and family they'd made together?

"Of course I do," a haggard voice, dripping with exhaustion and emotion responded from behind them.

Before Draco had the chance to turn around, strong arms wrapped around the blond and little Albus, pulling them both against an equally strong chest. "I will always love you," Harry whispered and Draco didn't need to look to know his better half had tears in his eyes.

"Daddy!" Scorpius shrieked from the living room, his heavy steps coming closer as he raced into the kitchen and tackled the three people on the floor.

"Daddy's home?" Jamie thundered down the stairs and plopped right in the middle of the reunion.

Amidst the chaos that was the Malfoy-Potter clan, Draco turned to soak in the presence of the man still clinging to him. He had dark rings under his eyes, stubble on his chin, and his hair looked like a bird's next, but his eyes were bright with joy and love. Harry kissed each of the boys and held onto them tightly, not once letting his arm slip from the blond's waist.

Absently trailing his fingers over Draco's hipbone, the blond shuddered—it had been too damn long since his husband had last touched him and a wave of want and need coiled low in his belly almost overwhelming him.

Leaning as close to the former Gryffindor as possible, Draco kissed his shoulder before their children pounced on them, knocking them flat on their backs. Harry's laughter rolled over Draco as he pulled him flush against his side and kissed him soundly on the mouth.

Draco squirmed against his husband, fighting the moan that threatened to tear from his chest. The kids were still piled on top of them and Harry's hand grazing his hip and upper thighs was not helping the situation.

"Alright," Draco broke free from Harry's spectacular lips—hiding the whimper at the loss of his husband's mouth against his.

Draco forgot what he was going to say when he looked into the endless pools of green that were Harry's eyes. The longing and want hidden in their depths was enough for Draco to melt into a puddle. He wished he were alone with Harry, writhing underneath him, and screaming in ecstasy. God, the things that man could do to him.

Harry's eyes darkened with lust, mirroring Draco's own expression.

The timer for the oven interrupted the chaos of the reunion. Harry clambered to his feet and pulled Draco up with him.

"Okay, kiddos," he spoke like he was leading a team of Aurors in the field, "time for dinner. Jamie, set the plates, Scorpius and Albus, you are on napkin and cup duty."

Three heads bobbed in unison and Harry smiled fondly at his sons. "Ready? Go," he clapped and cheered them on as they moved as fast as their bodies would let them.

With the children properly distracted, Harry turned on his husband, his dark gaze sweeping over his favorite bits of Draco's anatomy. He crowded Draco until the blond was pushed against the back of the counter, and closed the small gap between them.

"I saw your face, Dray," he whispered.

"What are you talking about?"

"Don't give me that," Harry pleaded. "I'm talking about Alby's question."

Draco stared at a fixed spot over his husband's shoulder and chewed on his bottom lip. "It's hard," he whispered so softly that Draco wasn't sure Harry had heard him.

"I know," Harry responded, taking Draco's hand in his and placing it on his chest. "I will never leave, Dray," Harry promised. "This is my home."

"It's just a building," Draco drawled and blinked back the tears that always threatened to spill when Harry saw through his persona, making him feel vulnerable.

"That's not what I'm talking about. This," Harry patted Draco's hand over his heart, "you, are my home. I can't live without you, love."

Before Draco could argue with his idiot, Gryffindor, over-emotional husband, his lips were busy doing something other than talking.

If the boys' chorused "Ewws," and Lily's crying from her crib went ignored for a beat too long, no one could blame them.

"Welcome home, love," Draco whispered against Harry's lips.

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