What He Wants
Title: What He Wants
Rating: PG
Genre: General
Length: 592
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Summary: Harry could never do something halfway.
Draco coiled contently around Harry's body. Their limbs tangled, hands caressed, and breath mingled. It was always like that after they had sex. Always comfort, fondness, sleepiness; something they never had any other time because that's all they were. Who knew sex with Harry would be so good that it reduced him, a dignified ex Death Eater on the rise in the Ministry, to some pile of mush that abstractly resembled his former self, if one squinted? Of course, that's the way Harry was. He could never do something halfway whether it was being a self-righteous prat, killing the Dark Lord, getting what he wanted, or having sex.
Harry buried his nose into Draco's slender shoulder, inhaling and murmuring, "I love you, Draco."
Or, apparently, taking something that meant nothing into more.
Silence and Harry pulled away slightly, looking into Draco's eyes. Draco wished the Muggle light Harry had was off so he couldn't see Harry's nervous look. It made him feel uncomfortable. But he liked being able to watch Harry's face during sex; it was orgasmic. Would it be rude to turn it off now?
"What?" snapped Draco defensively.
"Nothing." He pulled away completely, unraveling them, and turned his back.
Draco stared at the smooth skin before him, darker than his own. "You didn't honestly expect me to say it back, did you?" Harry didn't answer, opting instead to even his breathing. Draco wasn't fooled. Harry was probably wide awake, staring at the cream-coloured wall and wishing he'd never said anything in the first place.
"You know we're not together," Draco stressed, the desire to make Harry understand and relent overwhelming.
Harry sighed heavily. "I know. I get it. I didn't mean to say that. It slipped. Forget about it." But he didn't turn around. He didn't even try pretending to sleep. It never worked, but he always did it before.
The silence stretched between them, punctured only by their breathing. The air seemed to ring and it annoyed Draco to no end. Why couldn't everything about Harry be easy? He shifted onto his back, the bed shaking and creaking. Harry had money. He should buy a better bed. Or, better yet, remove everything Muggle in his house and replace it with wizard.
Harry sighed again, heavier this time, if that was possible. Draco wanted to strangle him. He wasn't going to give in. He wasn't going to tell Harry a lie just so Harry would feel better. No, he didn't care if Harry felt good or not. Unless that pertained to sex because he didn't want to be considered bad at sex.
He snatched his wand off the floor and waved it, muttering a spell to turn the light off. The dark engulfed them and Draco settled back down. He knew he could leave but he also knew that meant he was uncomfortable with what had just happened. Harry needed to know where they stood. Besides, walking away meant Harry had won, didn't it?
Carefully, because he couldn't see, he trailed a lone finger down Harry's back, sticky from cooling sweat. Harry protested and shifted away. "Why don't you just leave?" he suggested, still not turning around. Draco's stomach felt like lead. Harry had never told him to leave since they'd been doing this. But he didn't care. He didn't. He sat up but Harry's fingers snaked into his.
"I love you too," Draco caved. He could sense Harry grinning through the darkness and they entwined once more. It bothered him that it sounded true to his own ears.
Rating: PG
Genre: General
Length: 592
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Summary: Harry could never do something halfway.
Draco coiled contently around Harry's body. Their limbs tangled, hands caressed, and breath mingled. It was always like that after they had sex. Always comfort, fondness, sleepiness; something they never had any other time because that's all they were. Who knew sex with Harry would be so good that it reduced him, a dignified ex Death Eater on the rise in the Ministry, to some pile of mush that abstractly resembled his former self, if one squinted? Of course, that's the way Harry was. He could never do something halfway whether it was being a self-righteous prat, killing the Dark Lord, getting what he wanted, or having sex.
Harry buried his nose into Draco's slender shoulder, inhaling and murmuring, "I love you, Draco."
Or, apparently, taking something that meant nothing into more.
Silence and Harry pulled away slightly, looking into Draco's eyes. Draco wished the Muggle light Harry had was off so he couldn't see Harry's nervous look. It made him feel uncomfortable. But he liked being able to watch Harry's face during sex; it was orgasmic. Would it be rude to turn it off now?
"What?" snapped Draco defensively.
"Nothing." He pulled away completely, unraveling them, and turned his back.
Draco stared at the smooth skin before him, darker than his own. "You didn't honestly expect me to say it back, did you?" Harry didn't answer, opting instead to even his breathing. Draco wasn't fooled. Harry was probably wide awake, staring at the cream-coloured wall and wishing he'd never said anything in the first place.
"You know we're not together," Draco stressed, the desire to make Harry understand and relent overwhelming.
Harry sighed heavily. "I know. I get it. I didn't mean to say that. It slipped. Forget about it." But he didn't turn around. He didn't even try pretending to sleep. It never worked, but he always did it before.
The silence stretched between them, punctured only by their breathing. The air seemed to ring and it annoyed Draco to no end. Why couldn't everything about Harry be easy? He shifted onto his back, the bed shaking and creaking. Harry had money. He should buy a better bed. Or, better yet, remove everything Muggle in his house and replace it with wizard.
Harry sighed again, heavier this time, if that was possible. Draco wanted to strangle him. He wasn't going to give in. He wasn't going to tell Harry a lie just so Harry would feel better. No, he didn't care if Harry felt good or not. Unless that pertained to sex because he didn't want to be considered bad at sex.
He snatched his wand off the floor and waved it, muttering a spell to turn the light off. The dark engulfed them and Draco settled back down. He knew he could leave but he also knew that meant he was uncomfortable with what had just happened. Harry needed to know where they stood. Besides, walking away meant Harry had won, didn't it?
Carefully, because he couldn't see, he trailed a lone finger down Harry's back, sticky from cooling sweat. Harry protested and shifted away. "Why don't you just leave?" he suggested, still not turning around. Draco's stomach felt like lead. Harry had never told him to leave since they'd been doing this. But he didn't care. He didn't. He sat up but Harry's fingers snaked into his.
"I love you too," Draco caved. He could sense Harry grinning through the darkness and they entwined once more. It bothered him that it sounded true to his own ears.