Before It's Too Late (H/D, PG)
To my darlin' Sweets, I'm sorry that this is so incredibly late ... just think of it as the birthday that keeps on giving. ♥
Title: Before It's Too Late
Author: sesheta_66
Rating: PG
Word Count: 845
Challenges: A belated birthday gift for softly_sweetly.
Summary: When is it really too late?
Disclaimer: The characters contained herein are not mine. They belong to JK Rowling and her publishers. No money is being made from this fiction, which is presented for entertainment purposes only.
A/N: A big thanks to alaana_fair for her support and for helping me settle on a title and summary. *hugs*
Before It's Too Late
Weary from his week at work, but reluctant to go home, Draco had stayed well past his usual quitting time at Gringotts. He just couldn't face more of the same.
He and Harry had been drifting apart lately, their days made up of the same-old, same-old, and it was draining. He had tried to speak to Harry about it last weekend, but as usual, Harry's stubborn side kicked in, and he became defensive. Their conversation, meant to open up the lines of communication, quickly deteriorated into a war of wills neither of them was willing to concede.
The week was spent sleeping as far apart from each other as possible without resorting to separate beds, the chasm between them palpable, even when they were in the same room or same bed together. Only the most basic of conversations had taken place for five days running, and the situation threatened to worsen with time.
Now it was the weekend, and Draco dreaded the days of nothing that lay ahead. At least all week he had his office as a refuge, but now ... now he couldn't bury himself in his work, and he no longer knew how to talk to Harry, how to get through to him. He had a sinking feeling that this was the beginning of the end, something he had always feared would eventually happen. But that thought ... well, that was just too painful to imagine.
Breathing a deep sigh, he left the comfort of his desk behind, and Flooed home. The silence of their flat echoed in Draco's ears, as his eyes were assaulted by the darkness before him. His senses were on high alert as he felt something was very wrong.
"Lumos," he muttered, holding his wand out in front of him. Too late he noticed something on the floor. Tripping over it, he reached out to grasp the table in front of him to prevent his fall. As his hand made contact with an unfamiliar vase atop the table, the tugging behind his navel told Draco he was being transported elsewhere.
Draco landed on a surface that was uneven and soft, one that, coupled with the disarming feeling resulting from being Portkeyed without preparation, threw his equilibrium into chaos. As he struggled to right himself, he felt strong arms encircle him from behind.
Just as he was about to struggle for freedom, he felt warm, soothing lips against his neck. "I thought you'd never get here," Harry's deep voice reverberated, his breath caressing Draco's skin.
"Y-you did this?"
"Mm-hmm. How do you like it?" Harry asked.
Draco took in his surroundings; they were on a beach - that explained the soft ground - and a warm ocean breeze wafted over them. There was a gazebo with a candlelight dinner set for two, complete with a bottle of champagne chilling at the centre. Draco closed his eyes and leaned back into Harry's embrace, breathing in the sea air as though it were a lifeline.
Harry's arms pulled Draco closer as he pressed soft kisses along Draco's jaw, and began to nibble at his ear. "You were right," he whispered. "I'm sorry I was too thick to listen."
Draco blinked and turned to face Harry, his palms resting against Harry's chest. He could feel Harry's heart beating as strongly as his own. He looked into the familiar green eyes, full of apprehension, hope and love. "It's my fault too," he replied. "I think we both just ... let it happen."
"We can't do that, Draco. Never again," Harry said desperately, taking Draco's face in his hands. "I can't imagine my life without you." Harry pressed his lips to Draco's, almost chastely, then looked at him with such love that Draco knew he could never live without this, without Harry.
Draco breathed a sigh of relief and smiled. "You'll have to do worse than that to get rid of me, Potter."
Harry's smile lit up his eyes, something Draco hadn't seen for far too long. Then the smile faded, and he looked serious. "Don't ever let me," Harry said.
Draco narrowed his eyes in a feeble attempt at scolding Harry. "Count on it!"
Harry took Draco by the hand, and led him for a walk along the beach. They stopped to kiss every few steps, as though they couldn't get enough of each other. It felt just like it had in the early days - perfect.
Draco didn't know how long they spent walking up and down the beach, quietly enjoying each other's company, holding hands and kissing like teenagers, when suddenly his stomach reminded him that he hadn't eaten.
"So, what's for dinner?" he asked.
Harry looked guiltily at Draco.
"Harry?"
"Um ... whatever Narcissa had the house-elves pack for us," he replied sheepishly.
Draco's indignation warred with the knowledge that Harry would go to his mother to ensure everything was perfect. His heart swelled with love for the man before him, as a snort of laughter escaped him.
"Come on then, Potter," he chuckled. "We mustn't disappoint Mother."
.
Title: Before It's Too Late
Author: sesheta_66
Rating: PG
Word Count: 845
Challenges: A belated birthday gift for softly_sweetly.
Summary: When is it really too late?
Disclaimer: The characters contained herein are not mine. They belong to JK Rowling and her publishers. No money is being made from this fiction, which is presented for entertainment purposes only.
A/N: A big thanks to alaana_fair for her support and for helping me settle on a title and summary. *hugs*
Before It's Too Late
Weary from his week at work, but reluctant to go home, Draco had stayed well past his usual quitting time at Gringotts. He just couldn't face more of the same.
He and Harry had been drifting apart lately, their days made up of the same-old, same-old, and it was draining. He had tried to speak to Harry about it last weekend, but as usual, Harry's stubborn side kicked in, and he became defensive. Their conversation, meant to open up the lines of communication, quickly deteriorated into a war of wills neither of them was willing to concede.
The week was spent sleeping as far apart from each other as possible without resorting to separate beds, the chasm between them palpable, even when they were in the same room or same bed together. Only the most basic of conversations had taken place for five days running, and the situation threatened to worsen with time.
Now it was the weekend, and Draco dreaded the days of nothing that lay ahead. At least all week he had his office as a refuge, but now ... now he couldn't bury himself in his work, and he no longer knew how to talk to Harry, how to get through to him. He had a sinking feeling that this was the beginning of the end, something he had always feared would eventually happen. But that thought ... well, that was just too painful to imagine.
Breathing a deep sigh, he left the comfort of his desk behind, and Flooed home. The silence of their flat echoed in Draco's ears, as his eyes were assaulted by the darkness before him. His senses were on high alert as he felt something was very wrong.
"Lumos," he muttered, holding his wand out in front of him. Too late he noticed something on the floor. Tripping over it, he reached out to grasp the table in front of him to prevent his fall. As his hand made contact with an unfamiliar vase atop the table, the tugging behind his navel told Draco he was being transported elsewhere.
Draco landed on a surface that was uneven and soft, one that, coupled with the disarming feeling resulting from being Portkeyed without preparation, threw his equilibrium into chaos. As he struggled to right himself, he felt strong arms encircle him from behind.
Just as he was about to struggle for freedom, he felt warm, soothing lips against his neck. "I thought you'd never get here," Harry's deep voice reverberated, his breath caressing Draco's skin.
"Y-you did this?"
"Mm-hmm. How do you like it?" Harry asked.
Draco took in his surroundings; they were on a beach - that explained the soft ground - and a warm ocean breeze wafted over them. There was a gazebo with a candlelight dinner set for two, complete with a bottle of champagne chilling at the centre. Draco closed his eyes and leaned back into Harry's embrace, breathing in the sea air as though it were a lifeline.
Harry's arms pulled Draco closer as he pressed soft kisses along Draco's jaw, and began to nibble at his ear. "You were right," he whispered. "I'm sorry I was too thick to listen."
Draco blinked and turned to face Harry, his palms resting against Harry's chest. He could feel Harry's heart beating as strongly as his own. He looked into the familiar green eyes, full of apprehension, hope and love. "It's my fault too," he replied. "I think we both just ... let it happen."
"We can't do that, Draco. Never again," Harry said desperately, taking Draco's face in his hands. "I can't imagine my life without you." Harry pressed his lips to Draco's, almost chastely, then looked at him with such love that Draco knew he could never live without this, without Harry.
Draco breathed a sigh of relief and smiled. "You'll have to do worse than that to get rid of me, Potter."
Harry's smile lit up his eyes, something Draco hadn't seen for far too long. Then the smile faded, and he looked serious. "Don't ever let me," Harry said.
Draco narrowed his eyes in a feeble attempt at scolding Harry. "Count on it!"
Harry took Draco by the hand, and led him for a walk along the beach. They stopped to kiss every few steps, as though they couldn't get enough of each other. It felt just like it had in the early days - perfect.
Draco didn't know how long they spent walking up and down the beach, quietly enjoying each other's company, holding hands and kissing like teenagers, when suddenly his stomach reminded him that he hadn't eaten.
"So, what's for dinner?" he asked.
Harry looked guiltily at Draco.
"Harry?"
"Um ... whatever Narcissa had the house-elves pack for us," he replied sheepishly.
Draco's indignation warred with the knowledge that Harry would go to his mother to ensure everything was perfect. His heart swelled with love for the man before him, as a snort of laughter escaped him.
"Come on then, Potter," he chuckled. "We mustn't disappoint Mother."
.