Archive of Our Own ^beta

And you're kissin' on my neck
I'm like, "Oh"
Got your hands up on my chest
I'm like, "Oh"
Kiss me 'til there's nothin' left
Oh my god, oh my god
You could really tear me apart, but

I love you like that
Everything you do just turns me on
I love you like that
Body on my mind like all night long
Six o'clock in the mornin', babe
Want you more than yesterday
Used to judge myself, now I don't care

-Lauv

Drunk in the rain. What a joke. The universe clearly has it out for me. 

My first week back in London and I’m standing outside this muggle club, drunk off my arse, ruining my new Louboutins. All because I saw him . 

Those green eyes that still haunt my dreams, staring into me with so much fire I’m shocked I didn’t combust on the spot. 

But Merlin he’s just as gorgeous as always. In the decade I’ve been gone, he’s only become more devastating, more gut-wrenchingly beautiful. And I hate him for it. 

So I left the stupid club. Potter and his wrathful stare can fuck right off. Sanctimonious prick. 

“Malfoy.” 

Oh great.

I turn, plastering on my most casual look of indifference. “It’s fine, Potter,” I say, adjusting my jacket as a raindrop pelts me square in the eye. “I was just leaving. Places to be, you know.” I flap my hand back and forth in his general direction. I actually have nowhere to be. Pansy and Theo have taken their spawn to the coast this weekend. Yes, the weekend I happen to return. I hope it’s drowning out their family time, too. 

“Wait,” he calls after me as I try to scurry to the closest alleyway to Apparate. Of course, my fleeing does nothing to stop him and he grabs my arm, spinning me around to face him.

I scowl. “Was I not clear before? Was the fact that I left the second I saw your stupid scar—” I say as I jab him on the forehead to which he glares right back. “—not indication enough that I don’t want to talk to you?” 

“Christ, Malfoy. I just wanted to buy you a drink.” 

The absolute audacity of this man. 

I narrow my eyes. “Buy me a drink ?” 

He shrugs. “I haven’t seen you in over a decade. I thought—Gods can we please go inside?” His wild curls are plastered to his forehead, making him look—

“You look like a drowned rat,” I say as I shove past him, heading back towards the club. 

He huffs as he follows. “Like you look any better.” 

“Lies and slander. I always look better than you,” I say as I push open the door, my shoes squishing with every step. I hear Potter mutter something under his breath and all the water seems to evaporate from my body. I flash him a glare—though I am secretly thankful, and not at all bitter that he can do wandless magic.

The electronic thrum of the music pulses through my body as I reach the bartop, Potter scooting up next to me. 

“What’re you having?” A pretty bartender asks as she shakes a steel mixer. 

“A gin and tonic. Whatever top-shelf gin you have, a slice of lime to garnish,” I pause, deciding I needed more alcohol for this conversation. “Make it a double.” 

Potter chuckles next to me. “So fussy. I’ll just have whatever IPA is on tap.” 

“So pedestrian,” I snip back as he hands her his credit card. 

“Whatever,” he shakes his head, amusement dancing across his features. “Let’s find somewhere to sit.” 

“You said you wanted to buy me a drink , not sit and talk about our feelings,” I say as we make our way through the crowd, finding a small vacant table towards the back.

“Who said anything about feelings? I just wanted to, I don't know, see what you’ve been up to.” He sits, staring up at me expectantly until I relent with a sigh and sit. “Like I said, I haven’t seen you in years.” 

“It’s not like it’s a secret. Plus, I know Pansy is good friends with Granger, and you all, I don’t know—” I struggle to find the proper term. “ hang out occasionally.”

Potter laughs and takes a sip of his beer. “Occasionally.” 

As far as I’m concerned Pansy is nothing but a bloody traitor, which I’ve told her. 

“By that logic, you know I’ve been in France working on my Potions mastery.” 

Potter leans back in his chair, lacing his fingers behind his neck. “Yes, I suppose I did know that. So, I take it you found a job here in London? Or are you just here visiting?” 

“I was just hired on a St. Mungo’s, actually. I am their new Healing Potions expert.” I was entirely shocked when I got the owl asking if I would like to take over. I knew word had gotten back to London about my skills with potions and how well I had done on my Mastery, but I didn’t think I was hireable there after… everything . I am overwhelmed with gratitude, though no one will see me admit it. 

“That’s awesome, Malfoy, really,” Potter leans forward, grinning. Has he always had dimples? 

I clear my throat, feeling awkward and off balance by his genuine praise. “Yes. I’m looking forward to it.” 

“Did you move back in with your parents? To the, er—”

“The Manor? No, I think I’d rather stab myself in the eye with the Elder Wand.” 

Potter chokes on his beer, spewing it all over the table. I cringe as I attempt to wipe the drops away with my handkerchief. “Gross, Potter.” 

“Sorry,” he chokes out. “Sorry, I just—okay,” he takes a breath and another swig of beer. “Where are you living?” 

“Presumptuous, much?” I tease. 

Oh shit, am I flirting? 

“No.” He smirks. “Just curious. Is your new place as opulent as I expect?”

My flat is nice, but nowhere near opulent. It’s small and tidy, with big windows overlooking the city. I have a good-sized kitchen and enough space to brew. It’s very different from my childhood luxury, but I like it that way. “Nicer than yours, I’m sure.” 

“Of that, I have no doubt.” He smiles as he glances around the club. “So, what brings you here tonight?” 

“Same thing as you, I assume.” 

“Oh? Were you supposed to be meeting with Dean and Seamus, too? I’ll be sure to pass along our mutual displeasure at being stood up,” he says, grinning as I roll my eyes at him.

“Actually, I’m here to dance and get laid.” 

He stills, stopping himself from taking another drink, his lips resting on the edge of his glass. Lowering it a bit, he asks, “I take it you don’t have somebody waiting for you back in France, then?” 

I scoff. “No. I definitely do not have somebody waiting for me.” Not that I’ll tell Potter this, but I did leave someone special behind in France. I’d been seeing Matheo for three years before I very embarrassingly and uncharacteristically begged him to come to London with me. He refused, told me if I loved him I’d stay. Guess I didn’t love him enough. 

Doesn’t stop me from wanting to forget the taste of his lips. 

We fall into an awkward sort of silence. I begin to people-watch, my mind drifting to avoid the tension I can feel rising between us. I really don’t want him to bring up that night. A different club. A different flat. Those same green eyes that keep sneaking glances at me. 

I can still taste his desperation— Oh my Gods, Draco, as he ripped off my shirt. I can still feel his breath on my neck— You’re so fucking gorgeous, as he pressed kisses down my spine. I can still see his fingers lacing through mine— Baby you feel so good , as he pressed himself inside of me. 

And I can still hear the laughter in his sex-drunk voice— Can you imagine if Ron and Hermione saw us right now, as he ran his fingers through my hair. 

And I knew right then that one night was all we could ever have. He could never, would never allow himself to be seen with me by his side. And I didn’t blame him. 

Potter clicks his tongue, drumming his fingers on the table. He rubs a hand over his face before sighing. “Okay, I have to ask—”

I tsk and hold up a hand. “Nope. You said we weren’t doing feelings.”

He huffs. “I just—” he circles the rim of his glass with his finger. “You didn’t tell anyone you were leaving.” 

“I told the people who needed to know.” 

At that, he scoffs and shoots me a glare. “You don’t think I needed to know? After everything we—”

“Everything we what?” I interrupt. I knew he was going to bring this up. Knew when I first locked gazes with him tonight that we were going to end up here. “We spent one night together, Potter. One night over ten years ago. Why are you bringing this up, now?”

“Because you never let me bring it up then,” he shouts, luckily not pulling much attention to us due to the music. “I sent you owls and they always came back unopened. I tried Draco, and you ignored me for months until I finally stopped trying.” 

I sit back in my chair, crossing my arms. “It’s not like we were friends or anything. I didn’t even think you cared.” I look up to see a defeated look flash across his face. 

“I considered you my friend,” he whispers, dejectedly. 

What am I supposed to do with that? Had he been as hung up on me as I was on him? Not possible. I left because I was catching feelings—real feelings. We had spent the weeks after the war finding a truce. We spent the months during our eighth year forging a…somewhat friendly acquaintanceship over chess and too much Firewhiskey. And sometime after all that, we spent one night together where we gave into the desires and tensions we’d been fighting for years. 

Oh . Maybe we had been friends. And I’m a Grade-A arsehole.

I never pretended I was anything different. 

I push my chair back from the table and stand, not able to look at Potter’s sad puppy dog eyes any longer. “I’m going to go. Maybe we can…meet up again. After I’m settled.” 

Potter stands, too, shaking his head, seemingly shaking his sads away as well. “No—well, yes I do want to meet again.” He flashes me a sly grin. “But you came here to dance. Let’s dance.” He takes my hand and tugs me towards the mass of moving bodies in the middle of the club. 

His grip is like an iron vice as he drags me behind him (as if I’d try to leave, honestly ). The crowd smells like sweat and liquor and I’m starting to feel electricity coursing through my veins that I haven’t felt in ages, haven’t felt since the last time I was inside Potter’s orbit. He finds the smallest gap in the crowd to haul my back against his broad chest. The beat of the music is quick, matching the beat of my heart as Potter drags his fingers up my sides, pulling my arms up to wrap around his neck. He grips one of my hips, dragging me even closer until my ass is pressing firmly against him. 

He runs the back of his other hand down my cheek, down my jaw, until his palm is pressing against my neck, his grip soft but possessive. Our hips sway together as we become lost in the headiness of the atmosphere surrounding us. 

Potter leans in, his nose moving up and down the back of my neck, leaving goosebumps in its wake. “You’re right, Draco. We weren’t friends,” he murmurs next to my ear, his breath warm and sweet. “We were more than that. I wanted you and I know you wanted me too.” 

I shudder at the overwhelming sensations—his breath, his touch, his very essence taking control of my brain. “Even so—it would have never worked. It will never work.”

“Mmm,” he hums, nipping at my earlobe. “Tell me why you think that. After all this time, all the life that’s happened while we were apart, we still have this… thing between us. I know you feel it, too.” 

“Of course I fucking feel it, Harry,” I snap, gripping his hair tightly, making him hiss. 

“Then why did you run?” 

I sigh heavily. “Your friends. I could hear it in your voice after we…well, after. You acted like they’d think the sky fell and I couldn’t handle more rejection.” 

Harry freezes, stopping our movements. I twist my head to look at him, to see the truth in his eyes. Instead, he’s looking at me rather like he wants to throttle me. 

“Right,” he states, before spinning me around to face him, grabbing my wrist and tugging me along after him again. 

“You don’t have to manhandle me, you fucking brute,” I shout above the music. 

“Nah,” he shouts back, gripping tighter as I fling my arm back and forth in an attempt to escape. “You already slipped through my fingers once. Not happening again.” He continues to pull me until we are in a darkened back corner of the club. 

“Oh so now you’re just going to lure me t— mmmph ,” he cuts off my bitching with a harsh kiss, pressing me into the wall behind us. I am lost in sensation, my brain doing nothing to help as it just keeps replaying the word Harry Harry Harry Harry on repeat as warmth of his body surrounds me. 

“Merlin , do you ever shut up?” He says as he kisses me again. I try, I really try to make sure he knows that no, I don’t ever shut up, but he’s  pressing his tongue against my lips and I can’t help but groan, giving him the opening he needs.  

This seems to light a fire under him because suddenly my hands are slammed against the wall above my head as Harry brushes his tongue against mine. I taste the bitterness of his horrible IPA, a subtle sweetness, and something else I can't quite define—and it’s the most delicious combination of flavours. He shoves a thigh between my legs, pressing his hardness against my own. We both gasp into eachothers mouths as Harry grinds himself down against me. 

“I need to make one thing crystal clear , Draco,” Harry pants against my cheek. “I don’t give a shit what Ron says.” A nip on my ear. “And I don’t care what Hermione thinks.” A lick over my jaw. “In fact,” Harry murmurs, kissing his way back to my lips, “they can both shove any judgements right up their arse.” His mouth descends upon my lips once more, fierce and demanding, like he’s devouring me whole. I can’t help but rise to meet him. I caress his tongue with my own, burning from every nerve ending, pouring that heat into every brush of my lips against his. 

I whimper into his mouth, overtaken by lust and emotion. “I thought—” I moan as he rolls his hips again, throwing my head back against the wall. “I thought that we weren’t going to do feelings tonight.” 

He chuckles as he kisses his way down my neck. “Yeah, stupid thing for me to say, really. Impossible not to do feelings when it comes to you. Always been that way.” I suppose he’s right. I am not going to take a deep dive into what exactly those feelings started as and have morphed into, but he and I have always had them. 

“Gods—” I say through gritted teeth, grinding myself harder against his strong thigh. “We need to find an apparition point before I get down on my knees and suck your cock right here.” 

“Fuck . Hold on tight,” Harry whispers in my ear, the sounds of the club spinning away from me before we land in what I can only assume is his bedroom. I don’t have much time to take in my surroundings as Harry immediately begins unbuttoning my shirt with fast, efficient fingers. Each button releasing is making that tense cord between us pull tighter, straining under the effort of keeping our bodies apart.

He leans in, claiming my lips with his own while he pushes my shirt over my shoulders and down my arms. He runs his hands all over my chest and torso, caressing my skin in a reverent sort of way, an act of worship. “You’re so fucking gorgeous,” he says, pulling away from my lips. “Ten years have gone by and you still look like you belong in a magazine. On a movie set.” He undoes my belt before reaching for the button on my trousers. 

“Wait,” I say as I steady his hand. “I want to see you, too.” 

He wastes no time as he pulls his shirt up and over his head, leaving his glasses crooked and his hair dishevelled— he’s absolutely adorable. I reach forward, fixing his glasses and press a soft kiss on his cheek. He’s breathing heavy, eyes wild and full of desire. I can tell it’s taking every bit of restraint to not throw me on the bed like a sack of flour, but I want to draw this out. 

I step back, drinking in his form. He’s put on weight since I saw him last, his body strong with a cushion of softness overlaying his stomach. I want to press my face into it, needing to smell him, feel his warmth. His tan skin glistens with a light sheen of sweat that I can’t wait to press my tongue against. I slowly run my index finger from the waist of his trousers, up over the softness of his belly, over the rise of each nipple. He groans, closing his eyes, his breathing becoming ragged and quick. 

“Look at you,” I murmur, dragging my finger over his Adam’s apple, over his jaw, resting it lightly on his lips. “You are perfect .” He parts his lips and I slowly press my finger inside the heat of his mouth. He opens his eyes to stare into mine as he sucks, sending me into a whole body shiver. He nips the tip of my finger gently as I pull it back, running it back down his body until it reaches the button on his trousers, going further to trace the outline of his cock. 

“You’re a sadist,” he huffs and I grin, slowly running my finger up and down his length until his resistance snaps. He lunges forward, pushing me backwards until my calves hit the bed and send me tumbling to the mattress. He makes quick work untying my shoes, pulling off my socks and divesting me of my trousers and pants. He tosses the latter aside before stroking my legs with his hands, fingers gently trailing over my knees, the soft hair on my thighs. 

“Gods I want you,” he breathes. “I want to touch you, taste you. I want to feel you inside of me,” he leans in, pressing a kiss to my inner thigh. “I want to show you how much you’ve tortured me over the last decade, Draco.” 

“You’ve always been a bit of a oh fuck—” I cry out as he licks the head of my cock. “ — masochist.” 

“Only when it comes to you,” he says as he begins kissing his way up my stomach, leaving my poor dick to wonder what just happened. 

  I scowl down at him, grabbing a handful of curls and yanking him to look up at me. “And you’re a tease.” He gives me his best I’m innocent look as he brushes his tongue over my nipple. “I really hate you,” I try to say, but it comes out as a very undignified whine and I release his hair. Harry continues kissing and nipping his way up, paying special attention to my collarbones, whispering something that sounds like Gods I’ve always been obsessed with these, before finally reaching my lips. 

He kisses and kisses and kisses me. Torturing me in the most delicious way with his mouth, his tongue, his teeth. I am left breathless, undone, feeling like I’m on the precipice of something life altering and all I want to do is jump, not caring about how far I might fall. 

He pulls his mouth away to straddle my hips, quickly undoing the clasp on his trousers. He very ungracefully, but every bit Harry shucks his trousers and pants off his legs. I begin to laugh at his clumsiness, but am left utterly frozen at the sight of him in front of me, over me. I place my hands on his bulky thighs, rubbing my thumbs in circles on his skin. He places his hands next to my head, tilting his head to kiss me as he grinds our bodies together, skin touching skin. I gasp at the feel of his length against mine and lift my hips to meet his. 

“You were fucking crazy for leaving this,” he groans into my mouth. “Us together is electric, it’s lightning in a storm and you left .” 

“I know, I know,” I say as I turn my head, giving him access to attack my neck. I know by the way he's biting, kissing, and sucking my skin that there will be marks— evidence —of this night. And the worst part is that I don’t even feel indignant over it. I want his marks on me. I want the proof of his mouth on my skin. I bring my hands up, my arms wrapping around  his shoulders and grabbing the hair at the base of his neck. I lift my legs to wrap around his hips as he continues to slowly thrust against me. 

“I’m not—” He pants, breathlessly “—I'm not letting you go again. I can’t.” He wraps his arms under my shoulders and pulls up, flipping our positions so he’s under me. He drags his fingers down my arms, lacing his fingers through mine as I straddle his hips. “I knew it the moment I saw you in the club, tonight. I could feel you there, feel your presence radiating like a beacon to me.” 

“Always been that way…” I whisper back his earlier sentiment. We were always aware of each other, always in one anothers orbit. 

And Harry was always the sun.  

He unlaces one of his hands from mine, bringing it up to cup my face, gazing up at me with his emerald eyes. “Fuck me, Draco,” he whispers. “Please take me out of my misery and fuck me.” 

“Yes, Harry. Anything you want,” I hum as I begin my descent down his body, worshipping every inch of his skin with my lips. Each kiss an apology for leaving, a promise that I’m staying this time. 

He cries out my name, lacing his fingers through my hair as I take his cock in my mouth, slowly working my tongue up and down his shaft, tasting him, loving the sounds he makes as he lightly thrusts into my throat. “Yes sweetheart, that’s it,” he says, tugging on my hair as he moves his hips. “You take me so well, so deep. Fuck, your mouth feels like coming home, warm and mine.” 

I moan around his length, his words going in one ear and straight to my cock. I pull away from him, making sure to give him my most unimpressed look. “If you keep talking like that, this is going to be a very short, very disappointing reunion for us both.” 

He grins and shakes his head. “Nothing with you could ever be disappointing. And really, the thought of you coming from just having my cock in your mouth is very hot.” 

I roll my eyes and sit up, pulling on his legs so he’ll spread them out. “You can keep that thought for your wank bank, Potter, but I have other plans for tonight.” 

“Then hurry up and show me,” he goads, but the slight waver in his voice and the lust pooling in his eyes betray the challenge in his words. 

I climb over his body so I’m resting between his parted legs. He’s spread out, looking like a fucking masterpiece, art sculpted in praise of the Gods. I take a moment to soak in the man before me. I should never have left without saying goodbye. Regret claws at my stomach, rips open the Harry shaped wound in my heart, and I feel myself bleeding out the remorse that I wasted so much time. Time we could have had to make amends, make memories together. I hate that nineteen year old me was incapable of communicating. Thirty year old me isn’t much better, but I want to try—for Harry. 

As if reading my thoughts, Harry offers me a small smile. “We still have time, Draco. We are still so young.” 

I lift his right leg, bending it so his foot is flat on the bed next to me. I press a soft kiss to his knee before asking, “Do you have lube?” Harry murmurs a quiet Accio and a small bottle soars into his hand. “Your wandless magic turns me the fuck on, Harry,” I say, taking the bottle from him. I pour a generous amount of lube onto my fingers. 

“Oh yeah?” He smirks. “You should see what other wandless tricks I can— fuck.” He groans as I slowly push a finger inside, effectively cutting off whatever egotistical quip he was about to say. I thrust my finger in and out gently, caressing him, making sure he feels no pain at my hand. 

“Are you ready for a second?” I say, after a few moments, watching his face for any signs of discomfort. He nods, his body tense, his fingers gripping the blankets. “I’ve got you, darling. Relax. Let me in.” I feel him exhale, his body relaxing, the muscles around my finger releasing. I press in a second finger and he moans so softly, so sweetly it makes my heart hurt. Even after all this time, everything we’ve been through he trusts me, knows I won’t intentionally bring him harm. 

I continue to open him up for a few minutes. Absorbed by the feeling of his heat around my fingers, his harsh breathing filling my ears. “I’m ready, sweetheart,” he whispers. “Please. I need you.” 

I press one more kiss to his knee as I push myself up. I lift both of his strong legs up to wrap around my hips as I lean down, bracing myself on my forearms next to his head. I press myself against his entrance, press a kiss to his lips. The emotion I see swirling around in his eyes as I thrust inside almost undoes me. His eyes reflect such passion and longing, trust and care. It’s too much and I can't take it. I look away, pressing my face into the space between his neck and shoulder, letting his body adjust to me. 

“Draco,” he whines, “move .” 

I begin to move my hips slowly, gently, his tight heat pulling me in, my own strength pulling me out. My own body is thrumming with the force of my need and desire for the man below me, the man who has held my heart for over a decade. I bring my head back up, needing to see what this is doing to him. 

He looks wrecked, ruined in the best way. His hair a mess of dark sweaty curls, sticking to his forehead. His lips, swollen from my kisses, parted in bliss as he moans, taking me so deep inside. His eyes are closed, head thrown back as I continue to move, searching for the spot that will gift him the stars. 

“You feel so good,” he whispers. “I’ve waited so long to feel you like this.” He opens his eyes to find mine, leaning his head up to kiss my lips, my jaw. I push myself up on my hands, grabbing one of his to lace our fingers together against the mattress. I feel the familiar ache building, the tension increasing. “No one has ever felt like you,” he breathes, “nothing has ever felt like this.” 

“Harry,” I cry out. “I’m close.” I begin thrusting faster, harder, chasing the feelings of lust, regret, remorse, and something that feels damn well close to love. 

“That’s it baby,” he murmurs next to my ear. “Give it to me, let yourself go and fill me up.” 

I cry out as my body finds release. I thrust once, twice, before spilling deep inside of his body. I immediately pull my cock out, pushing myself down his body to take him back into my mouth. I push two fingers back inside, feeling a sense of satisfaction when he lifts his hips off the bed. I caress his prostate with my fingers as I suck him into the heat of my mouth while he writhes and babbles above me. 

Gods baby, yes. 

You feel so good.

Want this forever.

Love your mouth.

Love you—

He releases a few moments later with a cry, gripping my hair as I run my tongue over his sensitive cock. I make my way back up his body with the press of my lips against his skin until I’m nose to nose with him, feeling the heat of our shared breaths. 

I take his mouth in one last, languid kiss before I roll to the side, landing on my back next to him. He turns to curl himself up next to me, his head resting on my chest, leg thrown over mine. 

“You’re like a damn octopus,” I grumble, as he wriggles himself in closer, forcing me to wrap my arm around him. 

“I never got to learn if you like to cuddle.” He peers up at me, a questioning look on his face. “Do you like to cuddle?” 

I narrow my eyes as I run my fingers up and down his arm. “You’ll never get me to admit it.” 

He grins and pokes me in the side. “Loud and clear, Draco.” 

We lay there for a while, lost in thought. Or, at least I assume Harry’s thinking, but I never really know with him. “I should probably get cleaned up,” I say before pressing a kiss to the top of his head. 

“Stay,” he says against my skin. “Don’t leave again. Stay in my bed. Let me make you a greasy breakfast tomorrow while you insult the way I brew your tea,” I snort, but he lifts his head to look at me and continues. “Come with me to see Teddy, he’s just…he’s the coolest kid ever, okay? And I know you worry about Ron and Hermione but listen, Draco. They won’t care . Hermione is best friends with Pansy. I mean shit, Rose—” he smiles as he mentions her name. “Rose and Henry, that’s Pansy’s little boy, which of course  you know that already,” he babbles adorably as he waves his hands around. “They play together all the time. I think their mums are already planning the wedding.” He sucks a deep breath, collecting himself before continuing. “Anyway, all I’m trying to say is to please spend the day with me. And then come back here. Come back and bring your clothes and fill up my closet and just—” he looks down and shakes his head. “Just stay. ” 

My brain and my heart are at war, they always have been—since the day I took the mark, understood what it meant. My brain shouts danger , and my heart shouts love and I always take the cowards way out. But maybe…maybe I don’t have to this time. Because I feel a small part of my brain relenting, pushing back against the fear and uncertainty. 

“This is madness,” I whisper. 

He smiles, dimples soft in the moonlight. “No, it’s just us.” 

I let out a soft laugh, thinking how wholly right he is. Somehow I went from being drunk in the rain, lost and alone, to finding the place where I think I was always meant to be. With him.

“Yeah,” I say, relaxing back into the mattress, pulling him tighter against me. “Okay.” 

Harry’s eyes soften as he lays his head back on my chest, an aura of peace eminatting around us. Finally finding our orbit.