And There Was Only One Bed || Drarry

good morning

The loud chirping of the birds is what pulled Draco from his blissful sleep the next morning. Grumbling under his breath, he wrapped his arms tighter around himself and shifted his head, pressing his face into his pillow in an attempt to muffle the sounds.

No-his arms weren't wrapped around himself, nor was his face buried in his pillow. The person he was holding must've felt him stiffen, because Draco could feel them chuckle.

"Hey, you," a voice spoke in his ear, "you're finally awake."

Draco lifted his head, blinking at the amused look on Harry's face. "Fuck!" he jerked backwards, sliding off the bed and landing on his arse.

Now that his hands were free, Harry took the opportunity to pick his glasses off the floor and shove them on his face.

"I-uh," Draco swallowed, "I probably got cold in my sleep, you see," he told Harry, though he hadn't asked Draco for an explanation. "And you were just a warm body, you know? I'm only human, after all-I know, I know, someone with my superior charm and intellect couldn't possibly be a mere human, but alas, it's true. I'll have you know that under any other circumstances, this-" he gestured frantically between them, "would have never, ever have happened-"

"You're so cute when you're mad at yourself," Harry laughed, reaching down to put his shoes on. "Almost as much as when you're asleep."

"Not in a million-excuse me?" Draco stared at him. "Alright, Potter. I can excuse cuddling-maybe-but I absolutely draw the line at you watching me sleep."

Harry rolled his eyes, walking over to a small mirror on the wall to comb his fingers through his hair. "It's not my fault you decided to snore directly into my ear until I was wide awake."

"I do not-I do not snore, Potter," he hissed.

"Sure, you don't," Harry smirked. "It was adorable, don't worry. So, am I really that cuddly?"

"I-no, Potter, you're not," Draco said haughtily. "If you must know, you're much too bony. It's like hugging a bloody Thestral."

Harry snorted. "Well, I think you are," he turned to look at Draco, "cuddly, I mean."

"I am?" Draco's voice raised into a squeak, and he shook his head quickly. "Whatever, we need to concentrate on our mission. Let's get going."

"I don't think I can," Harry answered in a small voice, "I don't think I'll be able to concentrate on anything other than you all day, if I'm honest."

Since when is Potter so open about his feelings? Draco opened his mouth, intending to speak, but a lump in his throat prevented any sound from coming out.

Draco's heart skipped a beat when Harry crossed the small cabin in three long steps-why the hell are his legs so bloody long? -stopping directly in front of him. He suddenly felt very vulnerable as Harry gazed down at him, and he reached up to brush two knuckles against Draco's cheekbone-oh Merlin, I'm going to faint.

"Last night meant something to me," Harry murmured.

"Don't-don't be stupid," Draco tried for an awkward laugh, "you were asleep."