Two Cats and a Collar
Title: Two Cats and a Collar
Rating: R
Word Count: 2,500
Warning(s): Mentions of collars in the naughty sense
Summary: Harry didn't notice it until a few weeks after Draco moved in.
Author's notes: Birthday gift #3 for enchanted_jae. Also written for the delightful harry_draco_cat comm. I have now officially posted to five of the comms in the birthday list as promised! Score! And a very happy birthday, darling.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. This was written for fun, not profit.
To tell the truth, Harry didn’t even notice it until a few weeks after Draco moved in. Up until three weeks ago, he had been living in a state of blissful ignorance; in a world where his cat and his flatmate were two very different and completely separate individuals. To be fair, Harry would admit- if only to himself- that he held a certain degree of fondness and affection for both of them. But he would have liked to think that his interactions with his pet were at least a little bit different from his associations with his flatmate.
Vladimir was a handsome Russian Blue whom Harry had adopted from the local shelter. He had bright green eyes and bluish grey fur and he was quite a good looking devil. He was also aloof and extremely demanding, although he had been known to bunt against Harry’s legs and gift him a lizard when in a good mood.
Draco was a handsome Malfoy whom Harry had adopted from the local Manor. He had silver grey eyes and soft blond hair and he was a rather stunning specimen himself. He was haughty and disdainful, although he had been known to wash the dishes and relinquish the remote on the rare occasion.
So yes, Harry acquiesced that in theory they were completely different. But frankly, that line was starting to blur a bit. Harry was starting to see things. Things he couldn’t unsee.
It started one morning at breakfast.
****
Harry, as per usual was the first out of bed and thus, he got stuck with the cooking. He was just done with the eggs and had started on frying up the bacon when Vlad sauntered in.
“Morning, handsome,” Harry greeted.
Vlad favoured him with a yawn and an ear twitch before meandering his way over and looking up at Harry with an enquiring meow.
“Sorry, but no,” Harry told him firmly. “Bacon is bad for you. We do have cat food for a reason, you know.”
Vlad hissed indignantly and swatted at his ankle.
“Ouch!” Harry yelped. “Okay, okay! Just a little though, yeah? And just this once.”
Vlad didn’t dignify that with a response. He merely accepted the proffered bacon, treated Harry to haughty look and took off again.
Seconds later, a sleep rumpled Draco stumbled in. Harry suppressed a smile at the sight of his rumpled pyjamas and sleep tousled hair. As nice as Draco was to look at when he was immaculate and perfectly groomed, he looked rather cute like this too.
“Good morning, handsome,” Harry cooed, ruffling his hair fondly.
Draco scowled at him and shuffled over, peering suspiciously into the frying pan. His grey eyes lit up speculatively at the sight of bacon.
“Givvit,” he groused, trying to dig a fork in.
“No,” Harry replied, fending him off easily. “You can have some when I put it on the table. Like a normal person who wasn’t raised in a barn. Not before.”
Draco’s eyes narrowed at the challenge. He jabbed Harry with the fork. Hard.
“Ouch!” Harry yelped. “Draco, no. Stop that!”
“Gimme it,” Draco hissed, jabbing him again.
“Ow! Okay, okay! Here. But just this once, you hear me?”
Draco swiped up the bacon strip and sauntered off, with one last reproachful scowl in Harry’s general direction.
Harry shook his head in exasperation, even as a fond smile pulled at his lips. It wasn’t until a few minutes later when he replayed that entire scene in his head again, that his smile faded.
****
A few days passed and Harry had chalked the breakfast incident up to an odd if somewhat amusing coincidence. So, when he was reading on his sofa one weekend and he felt a paw bat at his head, he didn’t think much of it.
“Hello there,” Harry mumbled distractedly.
Vlad rumbled in response and continued his grooming, batting and kneading at Harry’s scalp in a futile effort to pat his hair down. Apparently, his unsuccessful attempts were starting to frustrate him because he hissed in displeasure.
Harry chuckled in amusement and stretched a hand behind to scratch the cat’s ears. “Give it up, mate. It’s a lost battle.”
Vlad wasn’t so easily deterred. Harry tolerated the grooming until Vlad started gnawing at his hair, at which point he swept an arm across and brushed him off the couch. Vlad hissed and padded off with one last baleful look at his hair.
Harry grinned and returned to the Quibbler, intending to read about the latest Nargle sightings in Nova Scotia when...
“For Merlin’s sake, Potter! Are you still lounging around?”
Harry’s eyes flicked from the magazine to a frowning Draco. “It’s Saturday,” he protested.
Draco smirked. “Exactly my point. And don’t you have a lunch date with Weasley and Granger every second Saturday of the month?”
Harry’s eyes widened in alarm and he bolted off the couch. “I forgot!” he blurted, dashing off to find his jacket. “Mione’s going to kill me!”
Draco just grinned smugly as he watched him run around in frantic circles. “Oh, that never gets old,” he snickered happily.
“Oh, ha ha!” Harry snapped. “Have you seen my shoes?”
Draco rolled his eyes and flicked his wand obligingly. “Accio Potter’s shoes.”
A pair of trainers zipped out from under the bed and smacked Harry in the head. From Draco’s shameless grin, it was quite clear that he’d done that on purpose but Harry had no time to argue. He pulled his shoes on and headed for the door. “Okay, I’m set. I’ll see you at dinner, yeah?”
“Wait!”
Harry whirled around and staggered to a halt at the sight of Draco’s horrified expression. “What?” he demanded.
Draco gaped incredulously and pointed at Harry’s unruly hair. “You can’t seriously tell me you plan to go out looking like that!” he said, sounding appalled at the very thought.
Harry huffed impatiently. “Draco, it always looks like this. Now, I really have to get going or...”
“It will only take a second, Potter,” Draco cut in firmly. Then he was there right in front of Harry, smoothing and patting and fussing at the dark locks.
“Draco, come on!” Harry whined, trying to brush him off.
“No!” Draco snapped. “You look like a Knockturn Alley reject. Now hold still...”
Harry suffered the grooming for as long as he could before finally prying Draco’s hands off. “It’s fine,” he protested as Draco geared up to argue again.
Draco pursed his lips, looking entirely unconvinced but there was no time to placate him. Instead, Harry just ruffled his hair fondly and bolted out the door, ignoring Draco’s outraged gasp at the sheer audacity.
He Apparated to the Leaky Cauldron in record time, only to suffer Hermione’s disapproving frown.
“Harry, you’re late again,” she scolded. She looked him up and down and shook her head in exasperation. “And your hair is a fright.”
“It was fine until Draco got his paws on it,” Harry grumbled, settling in the chair next to Ron. “Well to be fair, Vlad got his paws on it first and... why are you looking at me like that?”
Hermione and Ron were both staring at him, looking somewhat flummoxed. Finally, it was Ron who broke the stunned silence. “Why don’t you start from the beginning, mate? Sounds like a story we all want to hear.”
So Harry told them about his morning and the impromptu grooming sessions he’d been subject to. By the time he was finished, Ron’s lips were twitching and Hermione wasn’t even bothering to stifle her giggling.
“What?” Harry demanded suspiciously.
“Nothing,” Ron supplied. He took a deep breath and looked away, evidently trying to hide a smile.
“Nothing at all,” Hermione agreed.
Harry wasn’t buying it. “What is it?” he demanded.
Hermione broke first. She turned to him, evidently still fighting for a straight face. “You have two cats.”
Harry gaped at her. “Excuse me?”
“You have two cats,” Ron agreed. “And apparently, they’re both very fond of you.”
Harry scoffed incredulously. “That’s ridiculous,” he protested. “Why on earth would you...what gave you the idea that...” He trailed off as the incident replayed in his head. The rest of Harry’s argument faded and his jaw dropped.
“Oh no,” he mumbled.
Ron snickered and patted his back. “Just let us know when Malfoy starts leaving dead birds on your doorstep, yeah?”
****
By the time Harry got home that evening, he was feeling a bit out of sorts. Hermione and Ron had been more amused than anything at the new developments in his life, but Harry couldn’t say he shared the sentiment. Now that he thought about it, he was starting to see a lot of similarities between Draco and Vlad. They both hated the toaster, for example. And Draco’s obsession for shiny baubles was only rivalled by Vlad’s fascination with Harry’s collection of Snitches.
Harry groaned inwardly. How did he get himself into these situations?
Still shaking his head, he entered the flat...and promptly skidded to a halt.
Draco and Vlad were sitting across from each other. Harry eyed them warily. Neither acknowledged his presence, nor did they make any move to. They didn’t even bother to turn and look at him. Instead, they just continued staring at each other, unblinking and unwavering. Draco’s eyes narrowed and Vlad’s ear twitched. Draco cocked his head and Vlad swished his tail.
Harry cleared his throat uncomfortably. “Um, Draco? What...”
“Shh,” Draco hissed and waved him off, still caught up in the unrelenting staring contest. “I’m winning.”
Harry bit down a groan of despair. He really shouldn’t ask. He really shouldn’t. “What are you winning, exactly?”
“I don’t know,” Draco replied with a distracted shrug. “Glory, I think.”
Harry retired to his bedroom without a word.
****
By this time next week, Harry had all but accepted it. He was, in fact sharing his home with two felines. It could be worse, he supposed.
At least there were no dead birds yet.
It was evening when Vlad made his presence felt again. Harry jumped slightly as he felt a soft, furry something rub against his leg. Vlad bunted against him, purring like a well oiled traction motor.
“Hey, you,” Harry murmured, reaching down to stroke him. Vlad looked up at him and warbled mournfully. He bunted against Harry again, evidently demanding immediate attention to his petting needs. Harry chuckled and resumed his stroking. “Rough day, eh?”
Vlad meowed in agreement so Harry sighed and tapped his leg. In seconds, he had a lapful of cat. Vlad made himself at home, reclining luxuriously on Harry as he was stroked and petted and made much of. “Who’s my handsome boy?” Harry cooed, scratching behind his ears. “Such a magnificent bloke you are. Who’s my best...”
“Worst day ever!”
The door slammed and Harry jumped in alarm, displacing Vlad. The cat hissed and leapt to the floor before sprinting away. Draco stormed in right on cue, threw his briefcase in a corner and slumped on the sofa next to Harry. He ran a hand through his hair and scowled at the wall.
“What’s the matter?” Harry asked, reaching out to pat his back soothingly.
Draco huffed in displeasure and slumped over, sliding in to rest his head on Harry’s lap. “Awful day,” he whined. “Just bloody awful.”
He fixed a mournful gaze on Harry, who had to suppress an amused chuckle at the imploring expression in those big, grey eyes. Instead, he clicked his tongue in sympathy and ran a soothing hand through Draco’s hair. “There there,” he murmured. “It will get better.”
“Won’t,” Draco mumbled sulkily, pushing into Harry’s hand a bit.
Harry really did his best not to laugh out loud. It took some effort, but he managed it. Draco didn’t seem to notice. He just pushed against Harry’s hands, trying to get his fingers working in the right places. “I hate everything,” he announced sulkily. “I hate everything and everyone and I’m never moving from this spot again.”
Harry tried not to think about how absolutely fine he was with the idea of a lapful of Draco for all eternity. Now wasn’t the time. Draco was clearly upset and he needed some fussing to make him feel better. So, Harry just sat there, stroking and petting him with some cooing thrown in for good measure.
“Poor thing,” he murmured affectionately. “My poor, handsome boy.”
Draco hummed in approval, snuggling in further. “Keep going,” he mumbled sleepily, nudging into Harry’s palm again.
Harry chuckled and accioed the Quibbler, browsing through it as he petted Draco to his heart’s content.
****
Not surprisingly, he woke up on the couch the next morning with Draco firmly tucked under his arm and Vlad slumbering on his leg. Harry yawned and scrubbed at his eyes, taking care not to disturb the sleeping blond in his arms as he shifted over.
“Morning, mate,” he murmured, jostling his thigh. Vlad cracked one eye open and yawned at him. Harry jerked his leg again. “Off you go,” he mumbled. “Come on.”
Vlad twitched a reproachful ear, swatted at him and took off while Harry busied himself with trying to extricate himself from an armful of blond. “Draco,” he murmured softly. “Hey, it’s time to get up now...”
Draco mumbled sleepily and nuzzled into the crook of his neck. Harry smiled fondly and kissed his forehead on impulse. A sleepy, grey eye cracked open to observe him, not unlike Vladimir at all. Harry grinned and jostled him a bit. “Morning, sleepy head,” he said softly. “Up for some breakfast?”
“Later,” Draco mumbled, shifting in his arms.
The next second, Harry’s eyes widened in surprise as Draco leaned in for a kiss. Soft, warm lips brushed against his and Harry moaned in response. It seemed to encourage Draco because he swiped his tongue against Harry’s bottom lip, suckling gently.
Oh yes.
It was all the encouragement Harry needed. He gripped Draco by the hips and manhandled him into position, until Draco was sprawled under him, still addled and sleepy but definitely interested. Harry grinned and nuzzled against his throat, delighting in the purr that elicited.
“More,” Draco moaned, arching into his touch and wrapping a long leg around him to hold him in place. His body twisted under Harry’s regard, sinuous and unsurprisingly feline.
Of course.
“Harry,” Draco hissed impatiently, digging a heel into his back. His eyes were narrowed and Harry had no doubt that if he'd been in possession of a pair of pointed ears, they'd be laid flat against his head. Draco tightened his hold on Harry's waist and lifted his chin in stubborn demand. “Now.”
Harry just grinned and resumed his ministrations. At the back of his mind, he made a note to get his new kitten a collar first thing tomorrow.
Rating: R
Word Count: 2,500
Warning(s): Mentions of collars in the naughty sense
Summary: Harry didn't notice it until a few weeks after Draco moved in.
Author's notes: Birthday gift #3 for enchanted_jae. Also written for the delightful harry_draco_cat comm. I have now officially posted to five of the comms in the birthday list as promised! Score! And a very happy birthday, darling.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. This was written for fun, not profit.
To tell the truth, Harry didn’t even notice it until a few weeks after Draco moved in. Up until three weeks ago, he had been living in a state of blissful ignorance; in a world where his cat and his flatmate were two very different and completely separate individuals. To be fair, Harry would admit- if only to himself- that he held a certain degree of fondness and affection for both of them. But he would have liked to think that his interactions with his pet were at least a little bit different from his associations with his flatmate.
Vladimir was a handsome Russian Blue whom Harry had adopted from the local shelter. He had bright green eyes and bluish grey fur and he was quite a good looking devil. He was also aloof and extremely demanding, although he had been known to bunt against Harry’s legs and gift him a lizard when in a good mood.
Draco was a handsome Malfoy whom Harry had adopted from the local Manor. He had silver grey eyes and soft blond hair and he was a rather stunning specimen himself. He was haughty and disdainful, although he had been known to wash the dishes and relinquish the remote on the rare occasion.
So yes, Harry acquiesced that in theory they were completely different. But frankly, that line was starting to blur a bit. Harry was starting to see things. Things he couldn’t unsee.
It started one morning at breakfast.
****
Harry, as per usual was the first out of bed and thus, he got stuck with the cooking. He was just done with the eggs and had started on frying up the bacon when Vlad sauntered in.
“Morning, handsome,” Harry greeted.
Vlad favoured him with a yawn and an ear twitch before meandering his way over and looking up at Harry with an enquiring meow.
“Sorry, but no,” Harry told him firmly. “Bacon is bad for you. We do have cat food for a reason, you know.”
Vlad hissed indignantly and swatted at his ankle.
“Ouch!” Harry yelped. “Okay, okay! Just a little though, yeah? And just this once.”
Vlad didn’t dignify that with a response. He merely accepted the proffered bacon, treated Harry to haughty look and took off again.
Seconds later, a sleep rumpled Draco stumbled in. Harry suppressed a smile at the sight of his rumpled pyjamas and sleep tousled hair. As nice as Draco was to look at when he was immaculate and perfectly groomed, he looked rather cute like this too.
“Good morning, handsome,” Harry cooed, ruffling his hair fondly.
Draco scowled at him and shuffled over, peering suspiciously into the frying pan. His grey eyes lit up speculatively at the sight of bacon.
“Givvit,” he groused, trying to dig a fork in.
“No,” Harry replied, fending him off easily. “You can have some when I put it on the table. Like a normal person who wasn’t raised in a barn. Not before.”
Draco’s eyes narrowed at the challenge. He jabbed Harry with the fork. Hard.
“Ouch!” Harry yelped. “Draco, no. Stop that!”
“Gimme it,” Draco hissed, jabbing him again.
“Ow! Okay, okay! Here. But just this once, you hear me?”
Draco swiped up the bacon strip and sauntered off, with one last reproachful scowl in Harry’s general direction.
Harry shook his head in exasperation, even as a fond smile pulled at his lips. It wasn’t until a few minutes later when he replayed that entire scene in his head again, that his smile faded.
****
A few days passed and Harry had chalked the breakfast incident up to an odd if somewhat amusing coincidence. So, when he was reading on his sofa one weekend and he felt a paw bat at his head, he didn’t think much of it.
“Hello there,” Harry mumbled distractedly.
Vlad rumbled in response and continued his grooming, batting and kneading at Harry’s scalp in a futile effort to pat his hair down. Apparently, his unsuccessful attempts were starting to frustrate him because he hissed in displeasure.
Harry chuckled in amusement and stretched a hand behind to scratch the cat’s ears. “Give it up, mate. It’s a lost battle.”
Vlad wasn’t so easily deterred. Harry tolerated the grooming until Vlad started gnawing at his hair, at which point he swept an arm across and brushed him off the couch. Vlad hissed and padded off with one last baleful look at his hair.
Harry grinned and returned to the Quibbler, intending to read about the latest Nargle sightings in Nova Scotia when...
“For Merlin’s sake, Potter! Are you still lounging around?”
Harry’s eyes flicked from the magazine to a frowning Draco. “It’s Saturday,” he protested.
Draco smirked. “Exactly my point. And don’t you have a lunch date with Weasley and Granger every second Saturday of the month?”
Harry’s eyes widened in alarm and he bolted off the couch. “I forgot!” he blurted, dashing off to find his jacket. “Mione’s going to kill me!”
Draco just grinned smugly as he watched him run around in frantic circles. “Oh, that never gets old,” he snickered happily.
“Oh, ha ha!” Harry snapped. “Have you seen my shoes?”
Draco rolled his eyes and flicked his wand obligingly. “Accio Potter’s shoes.”
A pair of trainers zipped out from under the bed and smacked Harry in the head. From Draco’s shameless grin, it was quite clear that he’d done that on purpose but Harry had no time to argue. He pulled his shoes on and headed for the door. “Okay, I’m set. I’ll see you at dinner, yeah?”
“Wait!”
Harry whirled around and staggered to a halt at the sight of Draco’s horrified expression. “What?” he demanded.
Draco gaped incredulously and pointed at Harry’s unruly hair. “You can’t seriously tell me you plan to go out looking like that!” he said, sounding appalled at the very thought.
Harry huffed impatiently. “Draco, it always looks like this. Now, I really have to get going or...”
“It will only take a second, Potter,” Draco cut in firmly. Then he was there right in front of Harry, smoothing and patting and fussing at the dark locks.
“Draco, come on!” Harry whined, trying to brush him off.
“No!” Draco snapped. “You look like a Knockturn Alley reject. Now hold still...”
Harry suffered the grooming for as long as he could before finally prying Draco’s hands off. “It’s fine,” he protested as Draco geared up to argue again.
Draco pursed his lips, looking entirely unconvinced but there was no time to placate him. Instead, Harry just ruffled his hair fondly and bolted out the door, ignoring Draco’s outraged gasp at the sheer audacity.
He Apparated to the Leaky Cauldron in record time, only to suffer Hermione’s disapproving frown.
“Harry, you’re late again,” she scolded. She looked him up and down and shook her head in exasperation. “And your hair is a fright.”
“It was fine until Draco got his paws on it,” Harry grumbled, settling in the chair next to Ron. “Well to be fair, Vlad got his paws on it first and... why are you looking at me like that?”
Hermione and Ron were both staring at him, looking somewhat flummoxed. Finally, it was Ron who broke the stunned silence. “Why don’t you start from the beginning, mate? Sounds like a story we all want to hear.”
So Harry told them about his morning and the impromptu grooming sessions he’d been subject to. By the time he was finished, Ron’s lips were twitching and Hermione wasn’t even bothering to stifle her giggling.
“What?” Harry demanded suspiciously.
“Nothing,” Ron supplied. He took a deep breath and looked away, evidently trying to hide a smile.
“Nothing at all,” Hermione agreed.
Harry wasn’t buying it. “What is it?” he demanded.
Hermione broke first. She turned to him, evidently still fighting for a straight face. “You have two cats.”
Harry gaped at her. “Excuse me?”
“You have two cats,” Ron agreed. “And apparently, they’re both very fond of you.”
Harry scoffed incredulously. “That’s ridiculous,” he protested. “Why on earth would you...what gave you the idea that...” He trailed off as the incident replayed in his head. The rest of Harry’s argument faded and his jaw dropped.
“Oh no,” he mumbled.
Ron snickered and patted his back. “Just let us know when Malfoy starts leaving dead birds on your doorstep, yeah?”
****
By the time Harry got home that evening, he was feeling a bit out of sorts. Hermione and Ron had been more amused than anything at the new developments in his life, but Harry couldn’t say he shared the sentiment. Now that he thought about it, he was starting to see a lot of similarities between Draco and Vlad. They both hated the toaster, for example. And Draco’s obsession for shiny baubles was only rivalled by Vlad’s fascination with Harry’s collection of Snitches.
Harry groaned inwardly. How did he get himself into these situations?
Still shaking his head, he entered the flat...and promptly skidded to a halt.
Draco and Vlad were sitting across from each other. Harry eyed them warily. Neither acknowledged his presence, nor did they make any move to. They didn’t even bother to turn and look at him. Instead, they just continued staring at each other, unblinking and unwavering. Draco’s eyes narrowed and Vlad’s ear twitched. Draco cocked his head and Vlad swished his tail.
Harry cleared his throat uncomfortably. “Um, Draco? What...”
“Shh,” Draco hissed and waved him off, still caught up in the unrelenting staring contest. “I’m winning.”
Harry bit down a groan of despair. He really shouldn’t ask. He really shouldn’t. “What are you winning, exactly?”
“I don’t know,” Draco replied with a distracted shrug. “Glory, I think.”
Harry retired to his bedroom without a word.
****
By this time next week, Harry had all but accepted it. He was, in fact sharing his home with two felines. It could be worse, he supposed.
At least there were no dead birds yet.
It was evening when Vlad made his presence felt again. Harry jumped slightly as he felt a soft, furry something rub against his leg. Vlad bunted against him, purring like a well oiled traction motor.
“Hey, you,” Harry murmured, reaching down to stroke him. Vlad looked up at him and warbled mournfully. He bunted against Harry again, evidently demanding immediate attention to his petting needs. Harry chuckled and resumed his stroking. “Rough day, eh?”
Vlad meowed in agreement so Harry sighed and tapped his leg. In seconds, he had a lapful of cat. Vlad made himself at home, reclining luxuriously on Harry as he was stroked and petted and made much of. “Who’s my handsome boy?” Harry cooed, scratching behind his ears. “Such a magnificent bloke you are. Who’s my best...”
“Worst day ever!”
The door slammed and Harry jumped in alarm, displacing Vlad. The cat hissed and leapt to the floor before sprinting away. Draco stormed in right on cue, threw his briefcase in a corner and slumped on the sofa next to Harry. He ran a hand through his hair and scowled at the wall.
“What’s the matter?” Harry asked, reaching out to pat his back soothingly.
Draco huffed in displeasure and slumped over, sliding in to rest his head on Harry’s lap. “Awful day,” he whined. “Just bloody awful.”
He fixed a mournful gaze on Harry, who had to suppress an amused chuckle at the imploring expression in those big, grey eyes. Instead, he clicked his tongue in sympathy and ran a soothing hand through Draco’s hair. “There there,” he murmured. “It will get better.”
“Won’t,” Draco mumbled sulkily, pushing into Harry’s hand a bit.
Harry really did his best not to laugh out loud. It took some effort, but he managed it. Draco didn’t seem to notice. He just pushed against Harry’s hands, trying to get his fingers working in the right places. “I hate everything,” he announced sulkily. “I hate everything and everyone and I’m never moving from this spot again.”
Harry tried not to think about how absolutely fine he was with the idea of a lapful of Draco for all eternity. Now wasn’t the time. Draco was clearly upset and he needed some fussing to make him feel better. So, Harry just sat there, stroking and petting him with some cooing thrown in for good measure.
“Poor thing,” he murmured affectionately. “My poor, handsome boy.”
Draco hummed in approval, snuggling in further. “Keep going,” he mumbled sleepily, nudging into Harry’s palm again.
Harry chuckled and accioed the Quibbler, browsing through it as he petted Draco to his heart’s content.
****
Not surprisingly, he woke up on the couch the next morning with Draco firmly tucked under his arm and Vlad slumbering on his leg. Harry yawned and scrubbed at his eyes, taking care not to disturb the sleeping blond in his arms as he shifted over.
“Morning, mate,” he murmured, jostling his thigh. Vlad cracked one eye open and yawned at him. Harry jerked his leg again. “Off you go,” he mumbled. “Come on.”
Vlad twitched a reproachful ear, swatted at him and took off while Harry busied himself with trying to extricate himself from an armful of blond. “Draco,” he murmured softly. “Hey, it’s time to get up now...”
Draco mumbled sleepily and nuzzled into the crook of his neck. Harry smiled fondly and kissed his forehead on impulse. A sleepy, grey eye cracked open to observe him, not unlike Vladimir at all. Harry grinned and jostled him a bit. “Morning, sleepy head,” he said softly. “Up for some breakfast?”
“Later,” Draco mumbled, shifting in his arms.
The next second, Harry’s eyes widened in surprise as Draco leaned in for a kiss. Soft, warm lips brushed against his and Harry moaned in response. It seemed to encourage Draco because he swiped his tongue against Harry’s bottom lip, suckling gently.
Oh yes.
It was all the encouragement Harry needed. He gripped Draco by the hips and manhandled him into position, until Draco was sprawled under him, still addled and sleepy but definitely interested. Harry grinned and nuzzled against his throat, delighting in the purr that elicited.
“More,” Draco moaned, arching into his touch and wrapping a long leg around him to hold him in place. His body twisted under Harry’s regard, sinuous and unsurprisingly feline.
Of course.
“Harry,” Draco hissed impatiently, digging a heel into his back. His eyes were narrowed and Harry had no doubt that if he'd been in possession of a pair of pointed ears, they'd be laid flat against his head. Draco tightened his hold on Harry's waist and lifted his chin in stubborn demand. “Now.”
Harry just grinned and resumed his ministrations. At the back of his mind, he made a note to get his new kitten a collar first thing tomorrow.