Drarry Smut

Complaints- CapSparkleFingers1

(Word Count: 3324)

It was almost like he could feel his very existence shatter as he watched the only man he's loved for years walk out the front door. He could see the rain hit his wrinkle-less t-shirt before he slammed the door shut in front of Draco's face.

It was Draco's fault, of course. He just couldn't keep his mouth shut. He always had to complain about everything, nothing in the muggle world would or could be good enough for him. But Harry tried everything to make it just right for him. Tried to make it so Draco was happy the way he was living in the new world. But no, Draco wasn't having it.

First it was the noise, the busy automobiles buzzing about day in and day out. He could always hear them with his excellent hearing. Harry had just put a silencing charm on the house, that way Draco couldn't hear it while he was at home. That seemed to satisfy him for awhile until Harry had asked Draco to go grocery shopping before he got home from his muggle job. Draco soon came home with a new complaint. This one, however, Harry couldn't fix for him. Instead, he tried his best to comfort Draco about it, saying things like, "Not all muggles have horrible grammar." And, "Not all muggles talk like they own everything." Harry scoffed a little after that. But he didn't mind, after all, Draco had barely complained about anything. But as the time flew by, as their relationship grew, into weeks and then eventually months, Draco started complaining almost everyday.

Harry was sick of it. He didn't mind it at first, but after Draco kept coming home day after day having a new complaint, he snapped.

"Can't you just stop complaining for once?" He said, though it wasn't loud, but it intimidated Draco. Draco saw what the hero could do, saw the power he possessed, power Draco would never own, so of course he would feel a bit intimidated.

"What are you talking about?" He whispered, just as quietly as Harry had done.

"You come to our home everyday with a new complaint. First it was how it was too loud, no problem, silencing charm, then it was about the way the muggles talked, I didn't mind comforting you, then it was about the dirty streets. I put a scourgify on them, no problem, little bit more risky but as long as your happy right? Then it came to our own home, Draco, our home! Why complain about our home? What is so wrong with our home?" Harry was fuming now, he was on his feet, staring a little up at Draco. Since he was a bit shorter than the platinum blonde.

"I do not come home every day and complain." Draco just said stubbornly. But of course, he couldn't admit he was wrong, that wasn't very Malfoy of him.

Harry just scoffed, grabbing his car keys, since after all; they were living in the muggle world now, and stormed out. Draco didn't even try to stop him because he knew Harry was right, but he couldn't push his Malfoy pride out of the way.

So there he was, watching the raven haired boy walk out of their home angrily. Draco knew he wouldn't be mad at him forever, but he still felt bad. But he still didn't chase after him.

Instead, he felt the tears brim his eyes and he sulkily walked to their shared bedroom. It was a quite nice bedroom he had to admit, but he vividly remembered coming home one day and, I think you guessed it, complained about it.

So, the amazing boyfriend Harry was, let Draco design the room the way he wanted, even if Harry didn't like it, he didn't say anything. He just let Draco buy new things, like a bigger and more comfortable bed, even if their bed was big enough for the two of them, just as comfortable too. But it wasn't enough for Draco. How could it be?

He then walked to the bed he had gotten, he remembers he didn't even ask Harry if he liked it, he just bought it and rearranged the room.

More tears were now flowing as every complaint flooded his head. He was quickly coming to the realization that their home was truly beautiful, one they had shared many happy memories in, one they talked in, fought in, fucked in. They did everything in. But Draco was too blinded by the small kinks that set him off to see the big picture. The bigger picture was the family, the memories, everything they had done in the small flat.