A Throne of Blood and Stars

Chapter Forty-Four

Draco wakes.

He's actually really warm, which is unusual, but not alarming because when he takes his first wakening breath he inhales the sweet scent of his mate. He blinks his eyes open, startling when he's met with bright green irises that twinkle from the morning sun.

"Good morning. You look like shit."

And Draco's eyes squint. "I appreciate the compliment, Potter."

Harry just grins in that boyish way he does, and he runs his eyes down Draco's face. "You really did a number on yourself yesterday."

The Slytherin's eyes widen in recognition and he scrambles to lift his arm, to see it for himself. But he's being pushed back into the mattress and pressed into his bedding.

"Potter," he says warningly.

"I need you to promise me you'll never do anything as brainless as you did yesterday."

"It was not brainless," he says, twisting his body to try and get out. "I had something to prove."

"And you proved it idiotically. Which was not very Slytherin of you."

"Excuse my thoughtless Gryffindor antics, I must be getting them from you."

Harry hums, and a slow smirk splays itself on his red lips. "Good morning, indeed."

"Potter, unhand me. I may have agreed to be near you, that does not mean I will tolerate your ridiculous larks."

"Ridiculous larks," Harry repeats. He stares at Draco for a few seconds, that stupid smirk still on his face. And very slowly, holding Draco's eyes, rolls his hips down. "Gryffindor antics."

"Potter," Draco gasps, his eyes flitting everywhere but Harry.

"You forget I'm a part of you, now. Which means you're part Gryffindor, and I'm part Slytherin. Although, that's not much of a difference from before."

You cunning, evil bastard, Draco thinks, squeezing his eyes shut when Harry's laugh filters through his ears.

"I've prepared the bath for you, my liege," Harry says. His smile is soft and the way he's looking at him makes Draco want to paint him.

Or, maybe punch him.

Harry moves off, pulling his hand to lift him off the bed, and leads him to the conjoined bathroom. The rising vapor from the tub makes it even warmer, which makes Harry's glasses fog up. He folds them away from his face, places them on the counter next to all of Draco's hair products and turns to him.

"Do you want to test the temperature of the water?"

Draco looks at him weird.

"I didn't know if you liked it warmer or cooler," Harry explains, sparing a glance at the large tub.

"I am sure the temperature is perfect," Draco says. "I trust you."

The quickness in Harry's reaction makes him almost flinch, but he doesn't. He stares at Harry, who stares at him, and steps closer.

"I trust you."

Harry's eyes widen in realization, and he slowly inches his hands up to unbutton Draco's sleeping top, his fingers deftly passing over the thin material on his chest. Draco shivers, despite the high temperature in the bathroom.

Draco sleeps without pants and Harry finds this enlightening, humming when he moves to push his trousers down and finds no material underneath. He stands, unashamed, and looks appreciatively as Harry's body is revealed from underneath his Muggle clothes.