Happy Birthday dracoluvah!!!
Title - While He Sleeps
Author - softly_sweetly
Beta - None, mistakes are mine alone
Rating - PG
Word Count - ~500
Characters/Pairings - Harry/Draco
Warnings - Slash, Fluff, First Person, Fluff
Disclaimer - I own nothing but the plot lines. I make no money from this, and mean no offence by any scene depicted within this story. All characters depicted in sexual situations herein are above the age of consent.
Summary - Harry watches over Draco while he sleeps
Author's Notes - For dracoluvah - Happy Birthday darlin'!
The first time, was back in the war when we were all sleeping in grotty little tents in the middle of nowhere. I could hear whimpering, like an animal had been hurt. Naturally, I followed the noise and I found Malfoy, trapped in a nightmare and trembling in his sleep.
We'd rescued him from the Manor, cleaned him up and healed him as best we could, then run for it. I don't know why we went back for him, but there was something in his eyes, something in the way he hung in the manacles that looked like he was just giving up. And I knew that I couldn't let him just give up.
To still his cries, I pulled his head into my lap, stroking through his hair softly and watching over him while he slept. It calmed him, and I felt something change that day, something break that wouldn't ever be fixed, nor would I want it to be. My anger broke, and reformed into steely determination that I would win, that I would save the people like Draco, the ones I'd thought were so dead-set on following their parents. But they weren't, they were just kids. I'd have followed my parents to the ends of the earth if they were alive, so why would Malfoy and his friends be any different.
Though he caught me a few times, I never stopped sneaking glances, stealing nights when I could watch him sleep. I'll never forget his sleep-heavy voice telling me that "If you're going to be here all night, you might as well lie down." Then, somehow, I ended up sleeping with him at night. I'd still watch over him, but I'd find some of my own rest too.
When the war was over, I prepared a whole speech on why we should carry on working together, living together, sleeping together. He shot it all to hell when he showed up at the Burrow and announced that he "can't sleep without someone watching."
And now, six years later, I'm still watching him sleep. Carefully, my fingers trace over the scars that bear witness to the horrors he endured. Slowly, I turn his left arm out and study the faded black of the Dark Mark. It was forced upon him, and of all his scars I know this one hurts him the most. But perversely, it's my favourite. The sharp contrast to the alabaster skin around it, the slight raise of it, all of it is special, cherished, memorised by teeth and tongue and lips. His Mark shows what he survived, just like my scar shows what I survived.
Bringing his arm up slowly, I trace the dark outline with my tongue, watching his face for that secret little smile to appear, the one he gives when he's floating just below consciousness and truly happy. When his eyes flutter open to find me, I nip the inside of his wrist, speaking of hidden promises and delight in the near future. I watch him sleep, and I help him wake. This life is perfect.
Author - softly_sweetly
Beta - None, mistakes are mine alone
Rating - PG
Word Count - ~500
Characters/Pairings - Harry/Draco
Warnings - Slash, Fluff, First Person, Fluff
Disclaimer - I own nothing but the plot lines. I make no money from this, and mean no offence by any scene depicted within this story. All characters depicted in sexual situations herein are above the age of consent.
Summary - Harry watches over Draco while he sleeps
Author's Notes - For dracoluvah - Happy Birthday darlin'!
The first time, was back in the war when we were all sleeping in grotty little tents in the middle of nowhere. I could hear whimpering, like an animal had been hurt. Naturally, I followed the noise and I found Malfoy, trapped in a nightmare and trembling in his sleep.
We'd rescued him from the Manor, cleaned him up and healed him as best we could, then run for it. I don't know why we went back for him, but there was something in his eyes, something in the way he hung in the manacles that looked like he was just giving up. And I knew that I couldn't let him just give up.
To still his cries, I pulled his head into my lap, stroking through his hair softly and watching over him while he slept. It calmed him, and I felt something change that day, something break that wouldn't ever be fixed, nor would I want it to be. My anger broke, and reformed into steely determination that I would win, that I would save the people like Draco, the ones I'd thought were so dead-set on following their parents. But they weren't, they were just kids. I'd have followed my parents to the ends of the earth if they were alive, so why would Malfoy and his friends be any different.
Though he caught me a few times, I never stopped sneaking glances, stealing nights when I could watch him sleep. I'll never forget his sleep-heavy voice telling me that "If you're going to be here all night, you might as well lie down." Then, somehow, I ended up sleeping with him at night. I'd still watch over him, but I'd find some of my own rest too.
When the war was over, I prepared a whole speech on why we should carry on working together, living together, sleeping together. He shot it all to hell when he showed up at the Burrow and announced that he "can't sleep without someone watching."
And now, six years later, I'm still watching him sleep. Carefully, my fingers trace over the scars that bear witness to the horrors he endured. Slowly, I turn his left arm out and study the faded black of the Dark Mark. It was forced upon him, and of all his scars I know this one hurts him the most. But perversely, it's my favourite. The sharp contrast to the alabaster skin around it, the slight raise of it, all of it is special, cherished, memorised by teeth and tongue and lips. His Mark shows what he survived, just like my scar shows what I survived.
Bringing his arm up slowly, I trace the dark outline with my tongue, watching his face for that secret little smile to appear, the one he gives when he's floating just below consciousness and truly happy. When his eyes flutter open to find me, I nip the inside of his wrist, speaking of hidden promises and delight in the near future. I watch him sleep, and I help him wake. This life is perfect.