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Wake me

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The worst part about loneliness is that most people don’t realize that it has crept up upon them until they wake up one morning and wonder when the last time was that someone, other than a family member, touched them.

It is not even sex that is missing from the life of a lonely person. It’s the simple everyday touches, like a hand brushing against theirs, the hugs one gets from friends, and the simple comfort of someone sitting close enough to lean against. All that is missing, not really bothering them, until it is unbearable and they feel starved for simple human contact.

When family consists only of his mother and her estranged sister, and all of the old friends have abandoned Draco in favour of fleeing postwar Britain to the continent. Well, loneliness becomes his friend for a while. He wraps it around himself like an Invisibility Cloak and revels in it, just because it helps to heal, at least at the beginning.

He goes about his daily business, keeping the interaction with his colleagues to a minimum. After all, all they can spare him are dark looks and halfhearted mutters about the fact that if he steps one toe out of line they will have Draco carted off to Azkaban far quicker that he would know. So Draco does his job quietly and goes about his business, until the bruises on his soul have healed, to a point, that his open wounds have scarred.

He does this so well that when he raises his head a little he realizes that he really has become invisible. But now he is missing the strength to fight against the feeling of loneliness. So all he does is shrug his shoulders, straighten his back, and tell himself that it is better this way and trudges on. He does so for years and nobody cares, for all he knows.

The only time, that Draco wishes for someone to see him is when the Holidays draw near and even the Ministry is infused with warmth and laughter. Then he secretly longs for someone to be there for him as well, to share laughter and secrets with…

But for Draco Malfoy it probably will never happen.

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It is warm. So warm in bed with your lover, and you revel in the gentle movement of his chest rising and falling with sleep. His arm is wrapped tightly around your waist and even if you wanted to - which you don’t - you wouldn’t be able to get away from him without waking him. He touches you from your neck to your arse, as if he is starved for contact, still after all of your years together. Coming awake in his arms like this is your favorite part of the day. You stay where you are, simply soaking up his warmth and listening to the soft sounds of his breathing.

The sun has only just begun to rise, and the fire in the crate has been restocked with a couple logs. You don’t have to get up just yet and thus the luxury of simply feeling is still yours.

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Just when Draco has come to accept that life for him will never be truly warm again, something changes.

A simple cup of tea, steaming hot just like he likes it, with the right amount of milk and sugar, has appeared on his desk. To add to his surprise, a bright red and white candy cane has been tucked against it. Of course Draco checks the cup thoroughly for any curses, but the only thing that he finds is a gentle pulsing warming charm. Just when he has finished casting all of the revealing and anti-jinx spells that he can think of, a note materializes.

“Draco,
the tea is not cursed. I just thought you needed a little warmth to start your day.”

It is not signed so Draco wonders who it might be from. But then he chooses not to dwell on it and takes a cautious sip. The warmth that spreads through him makes his cheeks twitch a little, and he knows that there is a smile on his face. Once Draco finishes the tea, he begins to suck on the candy cane and continues to do so until it is gone. While his sweet tooth has lessened somewhat throughout the years, this small treat tastes better than anything he had in a long time.

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Even though you have lain still in your lover’s arms, the moment when he slowly comes awake arrives far sooner than you would have liked. But instead of removing his arm from your waist, he draws you closer, kissing your nape as his hands begin a torturous journey over your body, mapping all of your tender spots until you are squirming under his touch. Ever since he realized just how starved for touch you have been, he makes sure to let you know just how much you mean to him.

And if that means reducing you to a quivering bundle of nerves, who are you to deny him? Knowing that he himself has not known the loving touch of a family for so long.

His kisses mark your skin and you long to feel them on your mouth as well, but he is not done with you by far, and just for a second you feel your thoughts drift off…

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On the next day, Draco finds another cup of tea and a candy cane along with another note.

“You should smile more often. It suits you.”

Although it should creep him out, that somebody has watched him this closely, Draco cannot help smiling again, as he sips his tea and sucks away at the candy cane. He has no doubt that this is probably a huge joke, and someone will spoil this little innocent fantasy soon enough. But he is determined to enjoy the illusion of someone caring, even just a little, and he works with a little more fervour, to get things done. The reminder that there are people who love him, even if they are far and few, is spurring him on. Suddenly Draco is determined to get his Christmas shopping done early this year, mother has mentioned that she would like a new scarf, and aunt Andromeda, to whom he has just carefully began to talk via owl, would surely like a little token as well. Which brings him to his second cousin, what would he like, Draco wonders? He gets quickly lost in thought and so remains completely unaware of green eyes watching him.

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His hands wander over your body, stroking every inch of bare skin until they have reached your aching length. Arousal has taken over and you find yourself pressing instinctively against his hand.

He chuckles softly into your ear: “Eager?”

You can only moan. He takes the hint and begins to move his fingers in the manner that drives you crazy. His thumb swipes over your sensitive glans and your body arches, as if electrified. When he turns you onto your back and kisses his way down your body, there is nothing left but to feel. His lips close gently around your length and your hand tightens in his hair. He sucks you just the way you like it, until you cannot hold it any longer and come into his mouth with a shout.

When you come down from your high, you pull him back up and kiss him softly.

“Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, love.”

He is still aroused and you turn onto your stomach, inviting him to slide into you. His fingers open you quickly with practiced ease, before he enters your body.

No matter how often you make love to him, it always feels like coming home.

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The cups of tea and candy canes keep showing up for a while, always with a sweet note and Draco begins to relax more and more. Later he will blame the long lack of human interaction for his inability to connect the dots earlier, but when Harry Potter begins to stop by at his desk, first with only a friendly nod and then a friendly word, he doesn’t think anything of it.

Draco catches himself smiling at the fact that Potter has developed a sweet tooth that rivals his own, always sucking on a candy cane or sugar quill.

Harry keeps showing up in his office, chatting with Draco. Sometimes Draco wonders if he is imagining it, as it seems to him, as if Harry is gathering his courage but nothing ever happens.

Until one day his hand brushes against Draco’s back.

It’s a casual touch, but it electrifies his body. Draco suddenly becomes acutely aware of every cell in his body, longing for it to return and still wondering if he hasn’t imagined it. But then why should Harry touch him deliberately? Nobody has done so in such a long time, it probably was an accident. Draco files it away and tries to forget about it, but then it happens again, a hand lingering a little longer than needed, a subtle touch to the small of his back. And his confusion grows. Shying away from Harry’s touch would be natural, would be what is expected from Draco, but he is so starved for human contact that he finds himself leaning into the gentle hand. He is ready for flight at any moment, heart in his throat because he keeps expecting the rebuff. None ever comes.

One day Harry smiles at Draco over the cup of tea in his hands. And that is when it clicks.

“It’s been you!”

Harry cocks his head and looks at Draco with that boyish smile that has never been directed at him before, at least not with such promises of intimacy.

“Mad?”

Draco takes a deep breath, not quite sure what will come out, but finds himself unable to be angry. Instead he finds himself smiling freely, and shakes his head.

“No, surprisingly not.”

“So if I were to ask you out for dinner, you wouldn’t bite my head of?”

Draco finds himself laughing out loud.

“Friday at 7 would be wonderful. But Harry, please, try to dress appropriately.”

 

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You stretch languidly, your body pliant as it only is directly after a thorough session of making love. Harry is wrapped firmly around you, his nose buried in your neck and inhaling deeply.

“I love the way you smell.” Harry whispers. “I don’t know if I ever told you, but at first I came to your office because it smelled like you. It was almost like hugging you, but I didn’t dare then.”

“I am glad you found your courage then.” You turn in his arms and hug him close. “I can’t believe this is our third Christmas together already.”

Harry kisses you softly, and you forget about the slight melancholy that had settled into your bones, for a bit.

Later your family will show up for Christmas lunch, as your lonely days are long gone.

But for now there is still enough time to revel in Harry’s touch and to return the favour.