With sortofgowithit | Christmas Morning
[Follows THIS]
Harry had managed to get to Draco's by half past seven, but Scorpius had been tucked in an hour earlier. Despite the prospect of Santa coming to deliver presents was actually more than the little boy could bear, but according to Draco, he'd managed to get the kid to behave by promising him a visit from Harry Potter in the morning. Only Harry wouldn't come unless Scorpius went to sleep.
Harry didn't know what to think. Apparently he was even better than Santa to a six-year-old, and the idea both made Harry feel oddly proud, and also scared. What if Scorpius didn't really like Harry? What if the little boy really did catch him and his father practicing Quiddith moves? Harry had been a nervous wreck by the time he and Draco had finished some initial small talk, but the nerves vanished the moment Draco's lips were on his, and Harry forgot everything but the other wizard.
He could deconstruct their relationship for hours, but there was no denying chemistry. Every time they were together, Harry was sure his skin was on fire. And part of him might have even suspected a small hex on Draco's part, but the idea was always dismissed. Tonight was different than the day before when they'd shared a drink and a good, hard fuck. It was Christmas, and Harry had wanted it to mean something. Draco didn't seem to want to stop him, and so the rhythm was slower than any of their other encounters.
There was no rush, no urgency. Just the knowledge that they would be together for the whole night, and for once, Harry wouldn't be running off back to his place. People knew. His friends knew, even if they weren't happy. Draco's friends knew, even if they would want Harry's blood. But his life wouldn't be the same if at least one Slytherin didn't want to kill him. Neither of them ever really submitted, a constant battle for dominance part of their being together. They both took turns giving and receiving, they both tried to share control.
After the second orgasm, Harry had slumped down on Draco's bed spent, rolling onto his side as Draco curled around him, the blond slipping his arm possessively around Harry's middle. Nothing was said, but Harry still knew something had changed. Neither of them wanted to be with anyone else, and Harry was spending Christmas with Malfoy so they could share the holiday together, and so that Harry could finally meet his son. It was huge, but Harry didn't run.
He was still there when the morning light started to shine between Draco's curtains, and was surprised to find them both in the same position they'd fallen asleep in. Draco's arm was still wrapped tighly around him, only this time his morning wood was poking at Harry's back. Harry smirked, tempted just to roll over and start shagging Draco awake. Instead he stayed, only moving enough to stretch his legs.
Draco didn't realise how knackered he was until he started to wake up. He hated waking up when he wasn't ready, and he definitely wasn't ready. He was warm, warmer than usual for some reason, and he didn't realise at first that he wasn't alone in the bed, fighting desperately not to wake up. It didn't work, but the small silver lining was that when he did gradually regain a little more awareness of his surrounding, horny was the first thing he began to feel and he rolled his hips forward automatically, ready to indulge in a luxurious morning wank. But he didn't have to. Cock met soft warm flesh, and this caused Draco's eyes to open in surprise and he got an eyeful of the back of a head covered in messy dark hair. Was he snuggling Potter? He had to freeze for a long few moments as he let his brain analyse this situation. Only, his cock wasn't really letting his brain do much of anything. It was leading the show and all it was letting his brain think was naked Potter, easy access, five inches lower and he could drive home free in that very nice arse and-
"CHRISTMASSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!" The shrill declaration ate up the cosy quietness of the trendy bendroom right before the door was flung open and a tiny blond boy seemed to fly through the air and land on top of Draco with an excited shriek of, "DADDY!" But that only lasted all of a few seconds before he realised his Daddy wasn't alone in bed and he jumped in fright and buried his face in Draco's back to hide.
That was enough to wake Draco up and pretty much deal with any potential morning fuck. His boner was gone in a heartbeat and he opened his eyes again to look at Harry, unable to stop a small sigh of frustration falling from his lips. There was also the added complication that they were both very naked under the sheets, which Scorpius was trying to pull off to hide under. Draco kept a firm grip around the edge of the sheets, luckily having more strength than a six year old. At least for the moment.
Harry hadn't even been able to process at first what all the shrieking was, his sleep-addled, and sex-addled brain still lost in the realms of pleasure as he'd felt Draco's hips rock forward. Only when it had sunk in did Harry yelp, and almost fall from the bed in an attempt to hide his shame from Scorpius. Only that didn't quite work and all Harry did was hit his wrist hard against the edge of the bedside table. He grunted in pain, biting his lip to stop himself from cursing. He supposed he should just be grateful the little Malfoy hadn't been two minutes later.
Harry kept his injured wrist close to his chest as he stayed still, not sure he was supposed to roll over to look at Scorpius or not. "Erm... Merry Christmas..."
Draco had no idea how he was supposed to deal with this situation. He had tried to prepare for it, think out every possible scenario and have a plan of action to cover it without scarring his son for life, but now it was in his face, and he had a naked Potter on one side, and his six year old on his other side, Draco was tempted to just pretend he was dead. But there were times when you were a father that you really just didn't know what the fuck you were supposed to do and flew by the seat of your pants. Only, he had no pants, did he? He looked over Harry briefly and then shifted onto his back, digging around in the covers to fish his son out of his hiding place. "Are you going to hide under there all day, kiddo, or do you want to see what Santa brought you?" he asked, his voice husky from waking up too abruptly and also the fact he spent a good portion of the night before deep-throating Harry. But if he kept on with thoughts like that, the only presents Draco would want to open was Harry's arse. "He had to work overtime finding a sack big enough to fit Harry Potter in, but what do you think, did he do a good job?"
The little messy blond head appeared out from under the sheets, and the pyjamas two sizes two big for him with Golden Snitches all over them had ridden up his legs. Draco fixed his son's pyjama pants and sat up in the bed, pulling the little boy into his lap but making sure the sheets were well in place. Scorpius' pale grey eyes, which were identical to his father's, were wide and he was breathing heavily probably from a mix of fear and excitement. He was clearly analysing whether Harry Potter really was there like his Dad had promised, or wondering whether the other man was an imposter. His little hand was clutched around Draco's arm like he was using it as a lifeline, knowing his Daddy would protect him if it turned out to be the latter. "Daddy," he said in hushed voice, leaning in close to Draco, even if his eyes were locked on Harry. "Santa forgot his clothes."
Harry's cheeks flushed, and he cleared his throat to as he raised his good hand up to try and comb his hair. Apparently the fact that his hair was neat was more important than the fact he had no clothes on. "Erm..." he started again, still trying to get his brain into gear so that he could come across as slightly more intelligent than a kneazle. He rolled his wrist to make sure it wasn't broken before he reached down blindly to get pick up his boxers from the floor and quickly pulled them on under the covers so he didn't feel so exposed. He also reached over to get his glasses off the nightstand and put them on.
Harry blinked, realising just how much Scorpius did look like Draco. Only more... innocent. "Hullo, Scorpius. I'm, erm, I'm Harry." He wasn't far off wanting to hide under the covers himself, or just beating his head with one of Draco's pillows. His green eyes flicked to Draco, as if willing the other man to put words in his mouth and not let him sit there floundering like an idiot.
Draco did actually have intentions of letting Harry flounder, at least for a few moments. This was a massive step for him, letting any one he had been fucking meet his son. It wasn't just massive, it was epic. And even though he had known Harry since they were eleven years old, Draco still felt himself reflexively tucking his arms protectively around his son. It was nothing against Harry, it was just going to take some time for Draco to know he really could relax in this situation. He also needed to know Harry was going to be okay interacting with Scorpius. He wouldn't admit it out loud, but it was extremely important to him that Scorpius trusted Harry, maybe came to see him as someone he could go to if Draco couldn't be there. Not necessarily a parental figure, but maybe something along those lines... if anything between Harry and Draco were going to be on that side of not casual. Scorpius, on the other hand, seemed to be hit with a wave of shyness and buried his head in against Draco's shoulder, but still watched Harry, eyes moving up to Harry's forehead now the glasses were in place. The scar was there. That clearly made everything all better in the mind of a six year old who worshipped Harry since he was old enough to know who he was. "Hi," was the tiny answer.
"Shake Harry's hand, Scorpius," Draco prompted quietly. He was pureblood, afterall. He had been raised with proper ettiquette and his son was going to be afforded the same.
Scorpius hesitated, but soon leaned over and took Harry's hand with his much small one. "It's nice to meet you, Mr Potter," he told him, his eyes unable to get anymore wider than they were now.
Harry's eyes were wide as well, still trying to come to terms with the fact the kid in Draco's lap really was Draco's kid. He gave Scorpius' hand a gentle shake as he managed a crooked smile. "Very nice to meet you too, Scorpius. I've... I've heard a lot about you. And please, just, erm, call me Harry. If it's alright with your Dad," he added breathlessly, wetting his lips out of nervous habit. He was still holding the boy's hand and quickly let it go.
Scorpius wasn't going to let Harry off that easy, though. Before Harry could pull his hand away, Scorpius took it again, giving it a small tug. "I asked Santa for a Gryffindor scarf just like yours," he told him, now beaming with excitement. "If Santa brought you here, he will have brought your presents, too. You have to come and see our tree. It has the Hogwarts Express!" He was still tugging on Harry's hand, trying to get him to move.
Draco met Harry's eyes over the top of Scorpius' head and smiled faintly at him with a small nod. "Why don't you go ahead, kiddo, make sure Santa put everything in the right place before he left. Daddy and Harry will be there in a few minutes," he told his son. Scorpius was satisfied with that suggestion, but only left after wrapping his arms around Harry in a hug and telling him he was the best Christmas present ever. Once Draco heard his son's little feet running off in the distance, he pressed his lips together and cleared his throat. "If you're going to run, do it now while I can still pass you off as a mistake of the fat bastard in red."
Harry had been staring after Scorpius, his mouth hanging open as he just gaped. He'd never been someone's best Christmas present ever before. Even Ginny's. He started to shake his head, and looked over at Draco. "He's... It wasn't a mistake." He reached out to grab the back of Draco's neck to give him a deep kiss, actions succeeding where his words always seemed to fail. "I'm not running," he told him after the kiss eased off. "So you better put some trousers on so we can go see what the fat bastard got us. He's wonderful, Draco. I just don't want to fuck up."
Draco smirked a little and pushed the sheets back. "You can't really fuck up, Potter. Not unless you go out of your way to hurt him. I have thousands of pounds of gifts out under that tree for him, but guaranteed he won't stick on them for more than a few minutes before he's wanting to spend more time with you. I'm not saying it's going to be easy, and I know you're probably thinking it's fucking weird seeing Draco Malfoy with a kid like this, but shit happens. He was conceived as an heir, but has become the most important thing in my life. He's my world. If you want in my world, Potter, he comes with the package. I don't doubt for a minute that you can actually pull it off. You took out Voldemort, you can play Lego with my six year old kid and tuck him into bed at night."
Harry's gaze dropped to contemplate Draco's generous package before he blinked and snapped his head back up above Draco's waist. "You want me to tuck him into bed at night?" He scratched at the back of his head before reaching down to readjust himself in his boxers. "Does that mean... I mean, we're more than... what are we? I don't have a problem taking him as part of the package. You've warned me repeatedly. I know meeting him is a huge thing. It's not lost on me. I'm also sorry I've incidently upstaged your gifts."
Draco rose up off the bed, making no attempt to hide it when he scratched himself lethargically and stretched. "I hate the term 'dating'," he offered, in some sort of form of an answer. He pulled on his boxers and shuffled over to collect his bathrobe. "He's going to get used to having you around, if you're around. I thought maybe some times when I'm working at night, you can stay here with him instead of me taking him to Pansy's," he suggested, watching Harry's face for his reaction.
Harry nodded absently as he got out of bed to pull on his t-shirt which had also been thrown onto the floor when they'd gotten into bed. It was a long moment before he even reacted to Draco's suggestion. Even then, all he did was look awed at being asked. He was going to get a chance to look after Draco's kid. "I don't like 'dating' either," he mumbled, his brain apparently ahead of his mouth slightly. "Erm, I mean, yes. okay. I can do that. Not like you'd want him near my place."
Draco paused in pulling on his bathrobe. "Only because his own bed his here," he admitted. "I don't mind if you take him to your place, Potter. I wouldn't mind if you wanted to take him to the park, or out shopping. I just expect if you do, you protect him with your life."
Harry held Draco's gaze. He didn't hesitate in his answer. "Of course. Draco, he's your son. I would do it whether you expected it, or not."
Draco slowly tied the robe's sash at his waist, processing Harry's words briefly. He was extremely aware that as soon as he let Scorpius bond with Harry, there would be a massive potential risk of hurt in all directions. If the whatever it was they were doing here together failed, Scorpius would be the one to hurt the most, and that made Draco nervous. And scared, maybe even terrified. There was also the fact that if Harry did start doing things like taking Scorpius out to the park, et cetera, it was going to raise a lot of questions in the Wizarding World. He suddenly felt like he was standing at the edge of a cliff deciding whether to jump and wondering if he had something to fall on at the bottom. Years ago, he would have invested a lot in making Harry's life miserable, but now, when they were both grown up and adults, was he willing to invest a lot in letting Harry into his life? Isn't it what he wanted, just what he was never willing to admit?
He took a few slow steps towards Harry, closing the gap between them as his eyes remained on Harry's. "Would you make sacrifices for him?" he found himself asking, not even sure if he was still talking about Scorpius anymore.
Harry was tempted to ask Draco if he wanted him to make an Unbreakable Vow, but he remembered all too well that the last one hadn't worked out too well for Draco. Or rather the one that Snape had made. Harry also didn't need one to know what his answer was, whether Draco was asking about his son, or not. He didn't really know when things had changed, but they had, and Malfoy was no longer the snivelling little git he'd hated so much at Hogwarts. "Yes."
Draco caught the back of Harry's head with his hand and leaned in, kissing him deeply and pressing his body up against Harry's. Draco had housekeepers he employed who all were happy to help out with Scorpius when needed, so he knew the little boy wouldn't be alone. He would also be well occupied making sure everything was in the right place, he definitely got that anal streak from his father. Which meant, Draco wasn't the slightest bit concerned about sticking his tongue down Harry's throat for the moment. It was Christmas, afterall.
Harry kissed him back, definitely not about to argue about the sudden embrace. It occurred to him that perhaps he should have asked Draco to make a promise, but all Harry wanted to know was that Draco wouldn't leave him; that he wouldn't die. That he wouldn't lose the blond, or his son. Something in Harry's throat caught, and he almost choked as he kept back a sob. He didn't stop kissing Draco until breathing really was an issue, and even when they broke apart, Harry held him tightly.
Draco did feel something was... not wrong, per se, just different about the embrace. He couldn't put his finger on it. He was scared to analyse it too closely. He never coped well in situations that he didn't have total control of, hence why he ended up getting into a lot of trouble in his early days in London before he became a successful entrepreneur and owner of a string of clubs worth a small fortune each. A life he didn't want his son to have anything to do with. He didn't even know why he was letting Harry so close so quickly except that it felt right. He could overanalyse it later when both of them would likely get cold feet anyway. They were Potter and Malfoy. It wasn't going to go smoothly. They were too used to battling each other, just lately, it had come out in the bedroom. He pulled back just a little with his typical casual smirk. "Merry Christmas, Potter," he murmured.
Harry let out a low chuckle, and reached down to give Draco's arse a squeeze. He really was going to have a sore head if he tried to stop and analyse anything. Draco was still teaching him how to go with the moment. He returned the smirk with a crooked smile of his own, dark hair falling back in his eyes. "Merry Christmas, Malfoy."
Word Count | 3,513
Harry had managed to get to Draco's by half past seven, but Scorpius had been tucked in an hour earlier. Despite the prospect of Santa coming to deliver presents was actually more than the little boy could bear, but according to Draco, he'd managed to get the kid to behave by promising him a visit from Harry Potter in the morning. Only Harry wouldn't come unless Scorpius went to sleep.
Harry didn't know what to think. Apparently he was even better than Santa to a six-year-old, and the idea both made Harry feel oddly proud, and also scared. What if Scorpius didn't really like Harry? What if the little boy really did catch him and his father practicing Quiddith moves? Harry had been a nervous wreck by the time he and Draco had finished some initial small talk, but the nerves vanished the moment Draco's lips were on his, and Harry forgot everything but the other wizard.
He could deconstruct their relationship for hours, but there was no denying chemistry. Every time they were together, Harry was sure his skin was on fire. And part of him might have even suspected a small hex on Draco's part, but the idea was always dismissed. Tonight was different than the day before when they'd shared a drink and a good, hard fuck. It was Christmas, and Harry had wanted it to mean something. Draco didn't seem to want to stop him, and so the rhythm was slower than any of their other encounters.
There was no rush, no urgency. Just the knowledge that they would be together for the whole night, and for once, Harry wouldn't be running off back to his place. People knew. His friends knew, even if they weren't happy. Draco's friends knew, even if they would want Harry's blood. But his life wouldn't be the same if at least one Slytherin didn't want to kill him. Neither of them ever really submitted, a constant battle for dominance part of their being together. They both took turns giving and receiving, they both tried to share control.
After the second orgasm, Harry had slumped down on Draco's bed spent, rolling onto his side as Draco curled around him, the blond slipping his arm possessively around Harry's middle. Nothing was said, but Harry still knew something had changed. Neither of them wanted to be with anyone else, and Harry was spending Christmas with Malfoy so they could share the holiday together, and so that Harry could finally meet his son. It was huge, but Harry didn't run.
He was still there when the morning light started to shine between Draco's curtains, and was surprised to find them both in the same position they'd fallen asleep in. Draco's arm was still wrapped tighly around him, only this time his morning wood was poking at Harry's back. Harry smirked, tempted just to roll over and start shagging Draco awake. Instead he stayed, only moving enough to stretch his legs.
Draco didn't realise how knackered he was until he started to wake up. He hated waking up when he wasn't ready, and he definitely wasn't ready. He was warm, warmer than usual for some reason, and he didn't realise at first that he wasn't alone in the bed, fighting desperately not to wake up. It didn't work, but the small silver lining was that when he did gradually regain a little more awareness of his surrounding, horny was the first thing he began to feel and he rolled his hips forward automatically, ready to indulge in a luxurious morning wank. But he didn't have to. Cock met soft warm flesh, and this caused Draco's eyes to open in surprise and he got an eyeful of the back of a head covered in messy dark hair. Was he snuggling Potter? He had to freeze for a long few moments as he let his brain analyse this situation. Only, his cock wasn't really letting his brain do much of anything. It was leading the show and all it was letting his brain think was naked Potter, easy access, five inches lower and he could drive home free in that very nice arse and-
"CHRISTMASSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!" The shrill declaration ate up the cosy quietness of the trendy bendroom right before the door was flung open and a tiny blond boy seemed to fly through the air and land on top of Draco with an excited shriek of, "DADDY!" But that only lasted all of a few seconds before he realised his Daddy wasn't alone in bed and he jumped in fright and buried his face in Draco's back to hide.
That was enough to wake Draco up and pretty much deal with any potential morning fuck. His boner was gone in a heartbeat and he opened his eyes again to look at Harry, unable to stop a small sigh of frustration falling from his lips. There was also the added complication that they were both very naked under the sheets, which Scorpius was trying to pull off to hide under. Draco kept a firm grip around the edge of the sheets, luckily having more strength than a six year old. At least for the moment.
Harry hadn't even been able to process at first what all the shrieking was, his sleep-addled, and sex-addled brain still lost in the realms of pleasure as he'd felt Draco's hips rock forward. Only when it had sunk in did Harry yelp, and almost fall from the bed in an attempt to hide his shame from Scorpius. Only that didn't quite work and all Harry did was hit his wrist hard against the edge of the bedside table. He grunted in pain, biting his lip to stop himself from cursing. He supposed he should just be grateful the little Malfoy hadn't been two minutes later.
Harry kept his injured wrist close to his chest as he stayed still, not sure he was supposed to roll over to look at Scorpius or not. "Erm... Merry Christmas..."
Draco had no idea how he was supposed to deal with this situation. He had tried to prepare for it, think out every possible scenario and have a plan of action to cover it without scarring his son for life, but now it was in his face, and he had a naked Potter on one side, and his six year old on his other side, Draco was tempted to just pretend he was dead. But there were times when you were a father that you really just didn't know what the fuck you were supposed to do and flew by the seat of your pants. Only, he had no pants, did he? He looked over Harry briefly and then shifted onto his back, digging around in the covers to fish his son out of his hiding place. "Are you going to hide under there all day, kiddo, or do you want to see what Santa brought you?" he asked, his voice husky from waking up too abruptly and also the fact he spent a good portion of the night before deep-throating Harry. But if he kept on with thoughts like that, the only presents Draco would want to open was Harry's arse. "He had to work overtime finding a sack big enough to fit Harry Potter in, but what do you think, did he do a good job?"
The little messy blond head appeared out from under the sheets, and the pyjamas two sizes two big for him with Golden Snitches all over them had ridden up his legs. Draco fixed his son's pyjama pants and sat up in the bed, pulling the little boy into his lap but making sure the sheets were well in place. Scorpius' pale grey eyes, which were identical to his father's, were wide and he was breathing heavily probably from a mix of fear and excitement. He was clearly analysing whether Harry Potter really was there like his Dad had promised, or wondering whether the other man was an imposter. His little hand was clutched around Draco's arm like he was using it as a lifeline, knowing his Daddy would protect him if it turned out to be the latter. "Daddy," he said in hushed voice, leaning in close to Draco, even if his eyes were locked on Harry. "Santa forgot his clothes."
Harry's cheeks flushed, and he cleared his throat to as he raised his good hand up to try and comb his hair. Apparently the fact that his hair was neat was more important than the fact he had no clothes on. "Erm..." he started again, still trying to get his brain into gear so that he could come across as slightly more intelligent than a kneazle. He rolled his wrist to make sure it wasn't broken before he reached down blindly to get pick up his boxers from the floor and quickly pulled them on under the covers so he didn't feel so exposed. He also reached over to get his glasses off the nightstand and put them on.
Harry blinked, realising just how much Scorpius did look like Draco. Only more... innocent. "Hullo, Scorpius. I'm, erm, I'm Harry." He wasn't far off wanting to hide under the covers himself, or just beating his head with one of Draco's pillows. His green eyes flicked to Draco, as if willing the other man to put words in his mouth and not let him sit there floundering like an idiot.
Draco did actually have intentions of letting Harry flounder, at least for a few moments. This was a massive step for him, letting any one he had been fucking meet his son. It wasn't just massive, it was epic. And even though he had known Harry since they were eleven years old, Draco still felt himself reflexively tucking his arms protectively around his son. It was nothing against Harry, it was just going to take some time for Draco to know he really could relax in this situation. He also needed to know Harry was going to be okay interacting with Scorpius. He wouldn't admit it out loud, but it was extremely important to him that Scorpius trusted Harry, maybe came to see him as someone he could go to if Draco couldn't be there. Not necessarily a parental figure, but maybe something along those lines... if anything between Harry and Draco were going to be on that side of not casual. Scorpius, on the other hand, seemed to be hit with a wave of shyness and buried his head in against Draco's shoulder, but still watched Harry, eyes moving up to Harry's forehead now the glasses were in place. The scar was there. That clearly made everything all better in the mind of a six year old who worshipped Harry since he was old enough to know who he was. "Hi," was the tiny answer.
"Shake Harry's hand, Scorpius," Draco prompted quietly. He was pureblood, afterall. He had been raised with proper ettiquette and his son was going to be afforded the same.
Scorpius hesitated, but soon leaned over and took Harry's hand with his much small one. "It's nice to meet you, Mr Potter," he told him, his eyes unable to get anymore wider than they were now.
Harry's eyes were wide as well, still trying to come to terms with the fact the kid in Draco's lap really was Draco's kid. He gave Scorpius' hand a gentle shake as he managed a crooked smile. "Very nice to meet you too, Scorpius. I've... I've heard a lot about you. And please, just, erm, call me Harry. If it's alright with your Dad," he added breathlessly, wetting his lips out of nervous habit. He was still holding the boy's hand and quickly let it go.
Scorpius wasn't going to let Harry off that easy, though. Before Harry could pull his hand away, Scorpius took it again, giving it a small tug. "I asked Santa for a Gryffindor scarf just like yours," he told him, now beaming with excitement. "If Santa brought you here, he will have brought your presents, too. You have to come and see our tree. It has the Hogwarts Express!" He was still tugging on Harry's hand, trying to get him to move.
Draco met Harry's eyes over the top of Scorpius' head and smiled faintly at him with a small nod. "Why don't you go ahead, kiddo, make sure Santa put everything in the right place before he left. Daddy and Harry will be there in a few minutes," he told his son. Scorpius was satisfied with that suggestion, but only left after wrapping his arms around Harry in a hug and telling him he was the best Christmas present ever. Once Draco heard his son's little feet running off in the distance, he pressed his lips together and cleared his throat. "If you're going to run, do it now while I can still pass you off as a mistake of the fat bastard in red."
Harry had been staring after Scorpius, his mouth hanging open as he just gaped. He'd never been someone's best Christmas present ever before. Even Ginny's. He started to shake his head, and looked over at Draco. "He's... It wasn't a mistake." He reached out to grab the back of Draco's neck to give him a deep kiss, actions succeeding where his words always seemed to fail. "I'm not running," he told him after the kiss eased off. "So you better put some trousers on so we can go see what the fat bastard got us. He's wonderful, Draco. I just don't want to fuck up."
Draco smirked a little and pushed the sheets back. "You can't really fuck up, Potter. Not unless you go out of your way to hurt him. I have thousands of pounds of gifts out under that tree for him, but guaranteed he won't stick on them for more than a few minutes before he's wanting to spend more time with you. I'm not saying it's going to be easy, and I know you're probably thinking it's fucking weird seeing Draco Malfoy with a kid like this, but shit happens. He was conceived as an heir, but has become the most important thing in my life. He's my world. If you want in my world, Potter, he comes with the package. I don't doubt for a minute that you can actually pull it off. You took out Voldemort, you can play Lego with my six year old kid and tuck him into bed at night."
Harry's gaze dropped to contemplate Draco's generous package before he blinked and snapped his head back up above Draco's waist. "You want me to tuck him into bed at night?" He scratched at the back of his head before reaching down to readjust himself in his boxers. "Does that mean... I mean, we're more than... what are we? I don't have a problem taking him as part of the package. You've warned me repeatedly. I know meeting him is a huge thing. It's not lost on me. I'm also sorry I've incidently upstaged your gifts."
Draco rose up off the bed, making no attempt to hide it when he scratched himself lethargically and stretched. "I hate the term 'dating'," he offered, in some sort of form of an answer. He pulled on his boxers and shuffled over to collect his bathrobe. "He's going to get used to having you around, if you're around. I thought maybe some times when I'm working at night, you can stay here with him instead of me taking him to Pansy's," he suggested, watching Harry's face for his reaction.
Harry nodded absently as he got out of bed to pull on his t-shirt which had also been thrown onto the floor when they'd gotten into bed. It was a long moment before he even reacted to Draco's suggestion. Even then, all he did was look awed at being asked. He was going to get a chance to look after Draco's kid. "I don't like 'dating' either," he mumbled, his brain apparently ahead of his mouth slightly. "Erm, I mean, yes. okay. I can do that. Not like you'd want him near my place."
Draco paused in pulling on his bathrobe. "Only because his own bed his here," he admitted. "I don't mind if you take him to your place, Potter. I wouldn't mind if you wanted to take him to the park, or out shopping. I just expect if you do, you protect him with your life."
Harry held Draco's gaze. He didn't hesitate in his answer. "Of course. Draco, he's your son. I would do it whether you expected it, or not."
Draco slowly tied the robe's sash at his waist, processing Harry's words briefly. He was extremely aware that as soon as he let Scorpius bond with Harry, there would be a massive potential risk of hurt in all directions. If the whatever it was they were doing here together failed, Scorpius would be the one to hurt the most, and that made Draco nervous. And scared, maybe even terrified. There was also the fact that if Harry did start doing things like taking Scorpius out to the park, et cetera, it was going to raise a lot of questions in the Wizarding World. He suddenly felt like he was standing at the edge of a cliff deciding whether to jump and wondering if he had something to fall on at the bottom. Years ago, he would have invested a lot in making Harry's life miserable, but now, when they were both grown up and adults, was he willing to invest a lot in letting Harry into his life? Isn't it what he wanted, just what he was never willing to admit?
He took a few slow steps towards Harry, closing the gap between them as his eyes remained on Harry's. "Would you make sacrifices for him?" he found himself asking, not even sure if he was still talking about Scorpius anymore.
Harry was tempted to ask Draco if he wanted him to make an Unbreakable Vow, but he remembered all too well that the last one hadn't worked out too well for Draco. Or rather the one that Snape had made. Harry also didn't need one to know what his answer was, whether Draco was asking about his son, or not. He didn't really know when things had changed, but they had, and Malfoy was no longer the snivelling little git he'd hated so much at Hogwarts. "Yes."
Draco caught the back of Harry's head with his hand and leaned in, kissing him deeply and pressing his body up against Harry's. Draco had housekeepers he employed who all were happy to help out with Scorpius when needed, so he knew the little boy wouldn't be alone. He would also be well occupied making sure everything was in the right place, he definitely got that anal streak from his father. Which meant, Draco wasn't the slightest bit concerned about sticking his tongue down Harry's throat for the moment. It was Christmas, afterall.
Harry kissed him back, definitely not about to argue about the sudden embrace. It occurred to him that perhaps he should have asked Draco to make a promise, but all Harry wanted to know was that Draco wouldn't leave him; that he wouldn't die. That he wouldn't lose the blond, or his son. Something in Harry's throat caught, and he almost choked as he kept back a sob. He didn't stop kissing Draco until breathing really was an issue, and even when they broke apart, Harry held him tightly.
Draco did feel something was... not wrong, per se, just different about the embrace. He couldn't put his finger on it. He was scared to analyse it too closely. He never coped well in situations that he didn't have total control of, hence why he ended up getting into a lot of trouble in his early days in London before he became a successful entrepreneur and owner of a string of clubs worth a small fortune each. A life he didn't want his son to have anything to do with. He didn't even know why he was letting Harry so close so quickly except that it felt right. He could overanalyse it later when both of them would likely get cold feet anyway. They were Potter and Malfoy. It wasn't going to go smoothly. They were too used to battling each other, just lately, it had come out in the bedroom. He pulled back just a little with his typical casual smirk. "Merry Christmas, Potter," he murmured.
Harry let out a low chuckle, and reached down to give Draco's arse a squeeze. He really was going to have a sore head if he tried to stop and analyse anything. Draco was still teaching him how to go with the moment. He returned the smirk with a crooked smile of his own, dark hair falling back in his eyes. "Merry Christmas, Malfoy."
Word Count | 3,513