Body And Soul

seven

AN: Hi everyone! I'm back on wattpad now. I just need to finish another project that is due soon and then I'll look into finishing this fic. I was never meaning to leave it unfinished 🤦‍♀️ I'll make an announcement about it once I start rewriting so be sure to follow me to get notice!

~

Draco stood in the silence of the manor for several minutes, still in front of the fireplace.

Potter's flat had only been filled with the two of them and yet somehow it seemed more alive. Maybe Potter's very presence filled the place, made it buzz with energy and light.

In contrast, the manor felt like a void. The silence was so insistent that it felt, as always, like someone was listening to him, and it was quiet enough that he was sure-if someone wanted to-they could hear his every breath.

And so Draco didn't make a single sound.

He held it all in, letting the quiet press him in on all sides, trapping him.

As smoothly as he could, Draco took one step, then another, until he was all the way in his bedroom, quietly sealing the door behind him.

It was silly, Draco knew, but coming from Potter's place straight here made it more noticeable. Still, he preferred the silence to the types of noises that had filled the Manor a few short years ago. Back then every creek and moan had set Draco on edge and he'd wished for quiet like this.

With a small shudder, Draco shook the thoughts away and sat on the edge of his bed, feeling more lost than usual.

He hadn't wanted to come home. He still wanted to be back at Potter's flat, drinking decent wine and hearing ridiculous stories. All while eating hand cooked food and marveling at the turn of the universe.

A small grin pulled at Draco's cheeks and he couldn't stop it, nor did he want to.

Potter was a terrible host.

He hadn't done anything right aside from making decent food to serve but that did seem mostly to be out of nerves.

For which Draco thought the reason was fairly obvious; he was the only guest.

There was that smile again, pulling at Draco's lips. It was such a foreign feeling, wanting to laugh, and yet he had spent all night doing it, a strange bubbling sensation forming in his chest, making him feel lighter and lighter.

He had thought it a few times by now, a gentle what if, that whispered through his thoughts on occasion. What if Harry potter did like him? What if he was attracted to him? What if he wanted to be with Draco?

What would it be like?

He'd glimpsed moments, since starting their appointments, of what it would be like to be touched or held by those strong hands. He'd felt, almost like an instinct, how Potter's loved ones must feel; secure and protected.

But what were fleeting thoughts that Draco always pushed away before they became legitimate desires, became full-fledged possibilities tonight.

Potter only invited him.

He'd cooked for him, been so nervous he'd barely managed to look at Draco for the first few minutes. And then, then, the way he'd smiled at Draco...

Draco's stomach fluttered, just the way it had when Potter's generous grin first landed on him.

At first he hadn't even been sure, but by the end, Draco knew. Potter's eagerness to make a connection, his botched attempt at asking Draco over, the way he pretended others were coming, it all pointed to one thing; Potter was interested in him.