It was like the clichéd ending of a bad romance novel, but as far as Harry was concerned, it didn't matter.

(And no, he hadn't been reading bad romance novels. It was just based on listening to what he'd heard Hermione and Ginny talking about.

He was telling the truth.

Honestly.)

He'd and Draco had been Auror partners ever since they joined the programme, and working so closely had inevitable led to them becoming friends.

Had someone questioned Harry about that a few hours ago, he would have assured them that yes, he and Draco were friends, and no, they were not any closer than that. Now however, things were different.

It was supposed to be a routine case. Go catch the bad guy and return to the Ministry with him in custody.

Unfortunately, the bad guy had gotten lucky, and managed to hit Draco with an unknown spell. Draco had gone down like a rock, and Harry had panicked. He'd subdued the criminal quickly – when faced with a furious Harry Potter, most people just found it easier to give up.

He'd immediately tried to revive Draco once the danger was taken care of. Only, Draco wouldn't wake. No matter how many spells or Muggle techniques Harry tried, he still remained unconscious.

So, after portkeying the man to the Ministry, with a note attached to him explaining the circumstance, Harry had quickly activated the emergency portkey to Saint Mungo's that all Aurors carried with them. When the two of them had landed in the middle of the waiting room, the Healers had quickly whisked Draco away for surgery, leaving Harry to wait.

That had been three hours ago, and there was still no news on Draco. The past few hours had given Harry some perspective. When your partner was possibly dying, it was hard to remain in denial. And faced with the prospect of not having Draco by his side every day, Harry had finally admitted, at least to himself, that he was in love with Draco.

All he wanted now was for Draco to survive so that he could tell him.

When the Chief Healer finally came to tell him that Draco was fine, had been shifted to a room, and would wake up any second, Harry breathed a sigh of relief. Sure, figuring out how to tell Draco about his newly realised feelings wasn't going to be easy, but at least the other man was alive.

"Hey," he murmured when he walked into Draco's room.

"Hey," Draco replied, sounding groggy. "What happened?"

"You got hit by some mystery spell," Harry said, sitting by Draco's bed and squeezing his hand.

"On my head?" Draco asked, considering Harry's answer.

"Apparently the angle was off. Most of it bounced off of your head, so you'll be okay."

Draco smiled, that adorable smile Harry hadn't even been aware that he'd fallen in love with. "Well, at least that thick skull you always joke about came in handy."

Harry had planned on actually telling Draco about how he felt, really, but looking at Draco lying there, looking paler than normal against the white sheets of the hospital bed, head wrapped in bandages and a bruise that spells and potions hadn't been able erase, still making his bad jokes…it was all too much for him.

Leaning forward, Harry placed his free hand on Draco's cheek and leaned over him, pressing a gentle kiss to Draco's lips.

The moment he did so, he mentally slapped himself. He definitely hadn't planned on revealing his feelings in this way. He was about to pull away, but then he felt Draco respond, a hand wrapping gently around his shoulder.

When they broke apart, they stared at each other wide-eyed, before Draco tentatively managed to ask, "Uh, that was…I mean, I've apparently got a concussion, so did you…?"

"Yeah," Harry replied, knowing that it was useless to lie. "Yeah, yeah I did. Is that okay?"

Draco blinked those gorgeous grey eyes at him (again, how had he not noticed them before?) and said, "Yeah…as long as it'll happen again, preferably when there aren't two of you present. Not that that's a bad thing or anything…"

Harry just laughed, squeezing Draco's hand.

So yeah, the entire thing from the revelation of feelings when Draco was near death to the bedside kiss was a complete cliché, but…well, there was a reason they were called clichés.

Hope you liked it! :)

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For:

The If You Dare Challenge, Prompt 611. Hospital

OTP Bootcamp, Prompt 12. Fear

Colors Competition, White (negative)

Girl Scout Cookies Competition, Mango Cremes