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Damaged Pieces of the Same Puzzle

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Fear claws at Draco’s chest, strangling and overwhelming, stealing the breath from his lungs. His eyes shoot open, fingers gripping the sheets as he pants raggedly, gasping for air. His surroundings slowly sink in; the familiar bedroom cloaked in the dark of night, the clinging sheets twisted around his body, damp from sweat. It was just a nightmare, nothing more, but his heart still pounds rapidly in his chest, veins pulsing with fear and adrenaline. He rakes a trembling hand through his hair when he feels the bed shift, Harry mumbling softly as he turns to face Draco.

“Another bad dream?”

Draco nods abashedly; he hates when his violent nightmares wake Harry, even if his boyfriend has his fair share as well.

“Come here, love,” Harry murmurs, opening his arms.

Draco needs no further invitation, sliding between Harry’s arms and resting his cheek against that warm, solid chest. Harry embraces him, pressing a soft kiss on the top of Draco’s head, hands rubbing comforting circles over his back.

Draco used to feel weak in moments like these, as if he was exposing a part of himself he would never be able to take back, but all that has changed. Now, lying in the warmth of Harry’s arms and listening to his steady heartbeat, Draco only feels safety and comfort.

Draco closes his eyes, shutting out the soft glow of the street-lamps filtering through the window, and breaths a sigh of relief. Sleep slowly overtakes him and, nestled against Harry, he doesn’t dream again that night.


Harry was damaged after the war—how could he not be—but he was certainly not broken. Draco envied his strength, watching The Boy Who Lived Once Again face the world despite the grief and demons that must have clawed at him daily. He still fought for what was right—even if it wasn’t always easy—testifying at Draco’s trial despite the public’s feelings towards unredeemable Death Eaters. When Draco called him a fool after the hearing, asserting that he did deserve the Azkaban sentence, that he should pay for his crimes, Harry only replied with a sad smile.

Draco believed he put on a fairly strong facade but Harry saw past his fragile walls. Those owlish, bright green eyes pierced right through him, into the depths of his soul and it scared Draco more than any impossible task Voldemort had set for him. With one kiss, one gentle press of his lips against Draco’s, Harry found a way to shatter him completely, the delicate walls crumbling with a simple touch.


Harry fiercely held onto those broken pieces though, refusing to let go even as the sharp edges cut into his skin. Months of fighting, careless cruel words, mindless misunderstandings and Harry still wouldn’t leave. Harry wasn’t perfect himself, ragged around the edges as well, but still he managed to fit into Draco’s torn life. When Draco truly realized he was done for, completely and utterly gone, he knew he had to escape. Draco was terrified, angry even, as he raged and pulled his belongings from Harry’s bottom drawer, ready to flee as quickly as he could.

Harry always did beat him to the snitch though, swifter than Draco and with a much keener eye. He wrapped his arms around Draco’s waist, pulling them both to the floor, straddling Draco as he struggled to free himself. Harry kissed Draco brutally, with such fervor and force Draco had little choice but to return the kiss, his body betraying him as he arched into the embrace.

Their mouths slid wetly together, tongues dueling for dominance, hard cocks grinding together through thin layers of clothing. The sex was passionate that night; Harry rocked into Draco, fucking him hard and deep, placing reverent kisses along the back of his neck. Harry’s hand cupped his jaw, twisting Draco’s head to look over his shoulder and into those deep emerald eyes.

“I love you,” he whispered, fingers gripping fiercely when Draco tried to look away. “I love you.”

He repeated the words over and over again until he spilled himself inside of Draco, eyes finally fluttering closed as he released Draco’s jaw. Draco’s orgasm soon followed, rutting against Harry’s calloused hand, and tears of frustration streamed down his cheeks as the words he so longed to repeat back to Harry got stuck in his throat.

They laid there on the floor, catching their breath as cool autumn air blew in through the open window. Harry turned over to face Draco and, as he kissed the salty tears staining Draco’s cheeks, he murmured softly in his ear.

“It’s okay, I know. I know.”


Draco’s eyes open slowly as pink morning light floods in through the windows, filling the room with a warm glow. Draco always feels a bit groggy after a bad nightmare but this morning he feels more rested than he has in a long time.

Harry is already awake, watching Draco stretch his limbs, a sweet smile painted on his face.

“It’s rude to watch people while they sleep,” Draco mutters.

“Who says I was watching you?” Harry scoffs, a blush staining his cheeks. “I was just impatiently waiting for you to wake up. I’m hungry.”

“And you expect me to make you breakfast?” Draco smirks. “Besides, it looks like it’s not food you’re hungry for.”

Harry releases a low moan as Draco reaches over and grips his morning wood, giving it a hearty tug.

“Breakfast can wait,” Harry hisses, arching into Draco’s touch.

Harry is meticulous that morning as he stretches Draco, using copious amounts of lube, taking his time and whispering sweet nothings in his ear. Draco nearly rolls his eyes and tells Harry to just get on with it, but it feels different today, special, and Draco doesn’t want to ruin the moment.

When Harry presses against his tight hole, mutual groans of satisfaction filling the room, Draco isn’t sure he’s ever felt this full. The pressure is overwhelming and his chest aches as Harry continues to slowly thrust into him, eyes never leaving Draco’s as their bodies slide against one another. Draco’s rigid cock drags along Harry’s stomach with every move and his bollocks tighten as he feels his release approaching. Harry increases his speed, his lips parted and pupils blown wide, and Draco cries out as his prick pulses, sticky come shooting all over their stomachs. Harry gives an other few, rough thrusts and then he is coming as well, cock throbbing as his warm seed fills Draco.

Harry’s hair is wild, his eyes bright, and face flushed and Draco feels a rush of emotion spread through his veins and into his heart.

“I love you, Harry.” It’s taken nearly three years but Draco’s not sure he’s ever spoken truer words before. “I love you so fucking much.”

Harry grins, leaning forward to capture Draco’s lips in a passionate kiss.

“I know.” Harry rests his forehead against Draco’s. “I know.”