The wind was howling, and that made trying to light a cigarette a pain in the arse, the blond thought. A stubborn strand was getting in his eye, pising him off further. Damn it all, he was late. Again.
Draco took a deep drag, feeling the smoke fill his lungs and the sweet relief of the nicotine quiet his erratic heartbeat. He narrowed his eyes when he recognized the wild haired figure sprinting in his direction. Harry came to a stop in front of him, gasping, one hand in his knee and the other grasping his right side, grimacing in pain.
“You're late.” Draco grumbled.
“I know, I know.” Harry panted. “But they caught me in another one of those bloody counseling sessions”
“It's the third time this week!”
“I know.” he raised his eyes, a shy smile on his lips. “I'm so sorry, Dray. I really am.”
Draco felt his anger melting away hearing the endearing nickname, and his mouth twitched minutely. He dropped the cigarette, stomped it and threw his arms around Harry, resting his head in the other's shoulder.
“I don't know why and how I put up with it all. But you always managed to win me out with those sad puppy eyes…” he kissed the tip of Harry's nose. “Come on, Jean Pierre said he would try to hold our reservation for a little while, but we need to hurry up. Dinner is on you tonight, and you better make it a really good one.”
Harry buried his hair on the pale, soft locks, breathing in the soft scent of lemongrass mixed with smoke, hiding a mischievous grin. He knew exactly where Draco's snappish mood would lead them.
“Haarryyyy…” the voice whispered in his ear, in a sing-song way. “Haaaarryyyyy… you owe me somethiiiing…”
Harry kept pretending he was asleep, just to see how far he would be able to keep up the charade. He felt warm breath tickling his neck, and a soft, almost nonexistent touch of lips to his ear. He held his breath, swallowing a moan. A cold hand snaked down his body, and started to slip through his underwear’ elastic waistband.
“Harry… if you keep on sleeping, you’re going to miss all the fun ...” Harry felt a light nip in his earlobe, while that cold hand went further and further down, suddenly gripping his already hardening cock. “Maybe not” the voice giggled.
Harry wasn’t able to resist longer, and flipped the slender body in a fluid motion, pinning him to the mattress. Silvery grey eyes looked up to him, pupils blown wide, amusement mixing with arousal in the quirk of the thin lips.
“Look who’s decided to finally play along...”
“Draco…” Harry groaned. “You’re asking for it...”
“I am, indeed. Am I gonna get it?”
Harry launched himself, attacking the pale throat laid down under him with bites. Draco would see if he was gonna get it or not.
“You’re crushing me.”
“Harry! Are you calling me fat ?”
“No. I’m saying that your lovely pointy chin is digging into a kind of sensitive anatomical area.”
“Uuf. Much better. Come up here, lay your head on my shoulder.”
“Huuum… you’re so warm , Harry. I love it.”
“I know. Let me warm you up, my little blond icicle.”
“I want french toast.”
“Hum, good idea...”
“And some tea.”
“With milk and two sugars.”
“Why haven’t you got up to grab us some food already?”
“Hum?” Harry pured himself a cup of coffee, while fiddling with the collar of his Ministry robes.
“Are you happy?” He turned to look at Draco, who was gazing at his own cup of tea, as if the liquid held all the answers.
“What do you mean?”
“...with me. Are you happy with me?”. Harry sighed deeply and sat down, grasping the hand that was reaching for the toast.
“Draco… you have the worst temper known to mankind. You’re sarcastic, paranoid, obsessed with cleaning, never admits when you’re wrong… and you’re passionate, possessive, positively nymphomaniac and carry a past as heavy and as dark as my own.”
Draco kept quiet, tears starting to blur his vision. Harry squeezed his hand.
“ Of course I’m happy with you.”