Harry Potter - a bedroom scene
a bedroom scene
*
Harry was asleep on his stomach when the light woke him. He heard a rustling from somewhere at the foot of the bed, and then Draco came into view, his face gaunt in the dim light.
"How was it?" Harry mumbled into the pillow.
Draco slid an arm around his waist and crawled into the foot of space between Harry and a hard knock on the floor. The brunet shifted a bit to accommodate his lover and hummed his question again.
"Oh, the party?" The blond buried his head between Harry's shoulder blades. "Well, I met the Wyrd Sisters..."
"That's excellent!" Harry's eyelids were growing heavy again.
"And the Minister asked if you were sick."
"I hope you lied to him."
"Of course I did. Told him you caught something."
"Wind of his party, more like."
Draco snuffled a laugh into Harry's bare skin.
Silence.
Draco's stomach rose and fell comfortably against Harry's back. The blond's hand went slack. Outside it was dark and starry. "How were the Sisters? Nice, I hope."
"...They were good fun...a bit flighty, the youngest was."
"Mm." More silence. Harry turned his head with effort. Draco was a blond sweep growing from his left shoulder. "Draco?" He shifted his shoulder when he got no answer.
"What?"
"Hadn't you better change? Come to bed?"
"...I am in bed." As if to prove it, he clasped Harry tighter round the waist. Harry sighed and asked again.
"Draco." The brunet wiggled purposefully. His lover groaned. "Change your clothes. You'll get your nice robes wrinkled."
"But I'm so comfortable," he whined into Harry's neck.
Thirty minutes later Draco still hadn't budged. "I think I'll just sleep here," he said at length, and crawled under the covers.
Harry smiled. His arm was falling asleep under the pillow, Draco's snores were sounding right beneath his ear, and the Boy Who Lived really couldn't imagine being happier.
*
Harry was asleep on his stomach when the light woke him. He heard a rustling from somewhere at the foot of the bed, and then Draco came into view, his face gaunt in the dim light.
"How was it?" Harry mumbled into the pillow.
Draco slid an arm around his waist and crawled into the foot of space between Harry and a hard knock on the floor. The brunet shifted a bit to accommodate his lover and hummed his question again.
"Oh, the party?" The blond buried his head between Harry's shoulder blades. "Well, I met the Wyrd Sisters..."
"That's excellent!" Harry's eyelids were growing heavy again.
"And the Minister asked if you were sick."
"I hope you lied to him."
"Of course I did. Told him you caught something."
"Wind of his party, more like."
Draco snuffled a laugh into Harry's bare skin.
Silence.
Draco's stomach rose and fell comfortably against Harry's back. The blond's hand went slack. Outside it was dark and starry. "How were the Sisters? Nice, I hope."
"...They were good fun...a bit flighty, the youngest was."
"Mm." More silence. Harry turned his head with effort. Draco was a blond sweep growing from his left shoulder. "Draco?" He shifted his shoulder when he got no answer.
"What?"
"Hadn't you better change? Come to bed?"
"...I am in bed." As if to prove it, he clasped Harry tighter round the waist. Harry sighed and asked again.
"Draco." The brunet wiggled purposefully. His lover groaned. "Change your clothes. You'll get your nice robes wrinkled."
"But I'm so comfortable," he whined into Harry's neck.
Thirty minutes later Draco still hadn't budged. "I think I'll just sleep here," he said at length, and crawled under the covers.
Harry smiled. His arm was falling asleep under the pillow, Draco's snores were sounding right beneath his ear, and the Boy Who Lived really couldn't imagine being happier.