Empty Spaces

Chapter 33

Harry was pretty sure he was awake for good now, although to be honest, it was admittedly difficult to tell where his dreams ended and where reality began. By his side, Malfoy was still sleeping, arm thrown across his face, shielding his eyes from the advancing sunshine.

Not wanting to wake his boyfriend, Harry managed to untangle himself from the sheets, pulled on the first thing he could find, and quietly made his way to the kitchenette. Making breakfast was out of the question, there was no way Harry would be able to put together anything edible, but he could at least make coffee. Navigating the shelves and drawers was easy enough– Malfoy was so impeccably organized , Harry thought to himself, the cupboard was like a picture from a damn Potions textbook.

"Mmm... good morning, darling..." Malfoy murmured sleepily from the doorway, wrapped in a robe, "Smells good... My shirt looks good too on you, by the way."

"Look who's finally awake," Harry teased, pouring a cup of espresso and handing it over. First thing in the morning was the only time Harry ever saw Malfoy looking anything other than shiningly put-together, and for some reason, it was incredibly endearing. "Good morning... and Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas, darling," Malfoy replied, leaning over and laying a kiss in Harry's hair.

Feeling emboldened, or maybe it was the sight of his half-awake boyfriend dressed in a robe, Harry responded by kissing the spot he'd found on Malfoy's neck last night.

"Mmm... guten morgen mein schatz..." Malfoy murmured affectionately, "Glad you're feeling better..."

"I've never felt better in my whole damn life," Harry replied, enjoying the feeling of Malfoy melting in his arms.

"Good," Malfoy managed to get out. It was such a small word, such a simple little word, but it was all Harry needed to hear to know what was coming next. They made their way back into the bedroom and Harry was secretly glad they'd waited until morning to do this. He'd had all night to discover what Malfoy liked, what made him fall apart and what made him switch languages because such words were too vulgar for English but apparently okay in German. And yet, despite being considerably more confident this second time around, Harry was still keenly aware that Malfoy's last boyfriend had been indisputably more experienced. Harry wasn't entirely new to all this, but he also wasn't fresh out of a relationship with an older man either. What if he didn't live up to Malfoy's expectations?

But Draco was patient and caring; passionate and affectionate; just as vulnerable as Harry felt while also just as trusting. Sure, there were awkward moments, but they were endearing rather than off-putting, and at the end of it all, Harry couldn't even remember why he'd been nervous in the first place. Draco pulled Harry into his arms afterwards, sleepy and satisfied and a million other things they couldn't name... well... maybe it did have a name, but for now, it could remain nameless...

Harry must have actually dropped off to sleep, because he woke to an empty bed– well, not quite empty, he realized, reaching over for his glasses. Draco was leaning up against the headboard, espresso in hand, looking more relaxed than Harry had ever seen him before. Barriers gone, walls down, just simple contentment.

"Sleep well?" Draco smiled.

"You have no idea," Harry nuzzled into his lover's bare chest.

Draco shivered beneath the touch, withdrawing ever so slightly. He'd been open and confident earlier, under cover of bedsheets and the spell of desire, but now in clear daylight, the tension crept back in: Who could overlook his past? Was that really something Harry would be willing– and able– to do...?

"You're beautiful," Harry whispered, moving his lips across Draco's scars. There were a lot of them– some put there by Harry himself, others... who knows. Draco made a noise of disbelief, so Harry continued. "No, really. You're a survivor... You're strong and you're smart and you don't take anyone's shit... You rise above and come out on top... I don't know how you do it... That's what all this says to me..." Harry traced a faint white line just below Draco's collarbone. It was one Harry didn't recognize– who put this there? But did it matter now? What mattered now was that they were here, together...