Draco is waiting on the sofa in front of the Floo.
Harry’s call is due in less than two minutes, and Draco, as foolishly impatient as he can only become when Harry is involved, keeps biting at his nails, a bad habit he’s picked up for when he’s stressed or agitated. He has nothing to worry about, per se: he just needs to hear Harry’s voice and see his face, even through green flames.
Finally, something lights up inside the Floo, and Harry’s floating face appears in a flash.
“Hi!” Draco lets slip out of his mouth. He didn’t want Harry to see how desperate he really was to talk to him – as if Harry didn’t know already – but now his reputation is already ruined – has been for a long time, actually.
“Hi, baby,” Harry smiles at him though the flames. Draco’s cheeks feel hot after he’s heard the pet name, but he decide to ignore it for the sake of his mental stability. Harry, however, does catch that. “Missing me?” he asks, still smiling like the perfect idiot he is.
“No, shut up,” Draco waves him off, trying to maintain a decent appearance. He’s terribly failing at it.
Harry giggles. “Yeah, I know,” he says, tone now a bit nostalgic, before sighing. “We should’ve used phones like I suggested.”
Draco’s head snaps at Harry flaming face. “Not that story again,” he hisses through his teeth, but with a smirk on his lips. Merlin, Harry is impossible.
“But I love that story,” Harry comments, almost casually and showing his teeth in a large grin. “I love telling it to all my friends - the ‘Tale of Draco Malfoy and the failed phone sex attempt.’”
Draco tsks, shaking his head. “You don’t go around telling people about your sex life,” he says, pinching his nose to contain the laugh he almost let slip out.
“Yes, I don’t,” Harry agrees. “Still, it’s fucking hilarious.”
“It’s the reason why I won’t use a phone ever again,” Draco adds, defending himself. It’s not his fault if he didn’t up Muggle. Technology is evil.
Silence fills the room for a brief minute. “I miss you,” Harry eventually admits, features going soft, eyes full of mixed feelings that Draco can describe one by one.
Eyeing Harry from under his fringe, “Floo sex is also banned,” Draco clears, chin up in that posture of him that, he’s been told, would remind everyone so much of his father.
“Why?” Harry whines loudly, eyes and mouth wide and all.
Draco looks at his green-ish floating head, wanting so much to distinguish Harry’s brown cheekbones, Harry’s rosy lips, Harry’s emerald eyes. “Because when you come home, sex will be even better.”