About Two Boys: Twenty-Five
About Two Boys is a series of drabbles linking Harry and Draco's lives, a moment from each year starting with their births.
Previous parts: Birth - 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 - 11 - 12 - 13 - 14 - 15 - 16 - 17 - 18 - 19 - 20 - 21 - 22 - 22.5 - 23 - 24
This is the penultimate drabble. Tomorrow will be the final one.
Twenty-Five
Draco waited for Harry to climb into the bed and snuggle against his back.
They shared a bed most nights now, but nothing else. Nothing...intimate. They both liked the feel of skin-on-skin. Touching. Closeness.
“Dumbledore once told me,” Harry’s words turned into warm breath on his neck. “That killing rips the soul apart. My soul must be in tatters.”
“Voldemort once told me,” Draco felt an arm snake around his waist, Harry’s hand warm against his heart. “That killing makes the soul more powerful.” He clutched at the hand. “My soul must be the most powerful in the world.”
*
Harry tried to turn Draco around, but he wouldn’t budge. So he scrambled over him, tucking into the little space at the edge of the bed.
He saw why Draco hadn’t turned; saw tears on his face.
Gently he wiped one away. It tasted of salt and pain.
“I’ve been thinking.” Draco’s lip quirked and he waited for a snide remark that never came. “We’ve given them 25 years. We mustn’t let them take anymore.”
Taking a breath, Harry knew this would change everything...perhaps ruin what they had.
He kissed away a tear on the corner of Draco’s mouth.
---
Twenty-Six
Previous parts: Birth - 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 - 11 - 12 - 13 - 14 - 15 - 16 - 17 - 18 - 19 - 20 - 21 - 22 - 22.5 - 23 - 24
This is the penultimate drabble. Tomorrow will be the final one.
Twenty-Five
Draco waited for Harry to climb into the bed and snuggle against his back.
They shared a bed most nights now, but nothing else. Nothing...intimate. They both liked the feel of skin-on-skin. Touching. Closeness.
“Dumbledore once told me,” Harry’s words turned into warm breath on his neck. “That killing rips the soul apart. My soul must be in tatters.”
“Voldemort once told me,” Draco felt an arm snake around his waist, Harry’s hand warm against his heart. “That killing makes the soul more powerful.” He clutched at the hand. “My soul must be the most powerful in the world.”
*
Harry tried to turn Draco around, but he wouldn’t budge. So he scrambled over him, tucking into the little space at the edge of the bed.
He saw why Draco hadn’t turned; saw tears on his face.
Gently he wiped one away. It tasted of salt and pain.
“I’ve been thinking.” Draco’s lip quirked and he waited for a snide remark that never came. “We’ve given them 25 years. We mustn’t let them take anymore.”
Taking a breath, Harry knew this would change everything...perhaps ruin what they had.
He kissed away a tear on the corner of Draco’s mouth.
---
Twenty-Six