Standard Disclaimer here. JK Rowling owns the characters. Lyrics from Clay Aiken's The Way. I own my imagination, and that's it.
The summer rain pattered softly on the windowsill of a brownstone flat near Diagon Alley; the quiet noise beat a steady tempo in the bedroom. Draco blinked and yawned, the soft snores tickled the hair lying across his neck and the peaceful warmth of the body behind him drifted over and around him. He glanced at the clock on the bed stand. Just a little past one o'clock, he thought, willing himself to drift off again. He reached back and pulled Harry's arm over his side until he had his hand resting comfortably on his stomach and pressed it against his skin. He loved Harry's hands on his stomach, especially when the lightly-callused fingers rubbed random patterns there.
Harry had looked exceptionally fine yesterday, even in that horrid Muggle suit, his mind's eye playing back the vision. Tousled haired and grinning, he had taken Draco's breath away. He smiled and shifted under the covers, feeling Harry shift towards him. Gods he'd wanted to do more than just feel him up at the wedding; he'd wanted to do so much more than slide his hands around that warm, inviting skin and to suckle the neck that just begged for his touch. He'd hidden his excitement when he'd caught that silly garter. It was just what he needed to get through to Harry.
He felt himself harden just at the thought of what he'd done to Harry. The longing look that Harry had given him as he'd slithered his hand up his leg at the reception and his tongue darting out of his slightly parted lips before he'd tried to drink his wine. God's he'd wanted to kiss him there so badly, he thought he might just die.
There's something 'bout the way you look tonight,
There's something 'bout the way that I can't take my eyes off you.
There's something 'bout the way your lips invite,
Maybe it's the way that I get nervous when you're around,
And I want you to be mine,
and if you need a reason why,
Releasing Harry's hand, he reached up and rubbed the back of his head absently, still able to feel the small, tender knot there. Harry had surprised him by pushing him into the wall and kissing him savagely. He could still feel Harry's hands all over his arse. Draco's hand brushed his swollen, tender lips on its way back under the covers to Harry's hand.
It's in the way that you move me,
And the way that you tease me,
The way I want you tonight,
It's in the way that you hold me,
And the way that you know me
Damn, I'm glad Harry didn't push me away. I was a real prick last night. Heh, thought the mother Weasel was going to shite her pants when she caught us. Draco snickeredinwardly at the image of Harry's face when the garter was wrapped around him. Really glad Harry knows that I won't hide our relationship. Wonder what was going on between the Weasel and his brother? Draco mused, his thoughts coming randomly as he drifted closer and closer to the edge of sleep.
When I can't find the right words to say,
You feel it in the way, you feel it in the way.
Draco scooted back little further until he was pressed firmly against his boyfriend. He felt Harry's soft breath caress his shoulder and heard his sleepily whispered, "Draco." Smiling, he wrapped his foot around Harry's ankle and closed his eyes, tightening his grasp on Harry's hand. And then, it hit.
The pooling of juices in Draco's mouth first made him gag, and then a burning started in his throat. Scrambling to get out of the bed, he slung Harry's arm off of him and untangled his feet from Harry's. Dizzily, he stood up and tripped over the covers in his mad rush for the bathroom, his hand held tightly over his mouth.
Draco fumbled with the switch and then sank down in front of the toilet. He managed to get his head close enough before he retched. Grasping the edges of the commode, he heaved again, his stomach clenching and twisting. He sat there on his knees trembling, awaiting the next rush of sickness to hit.
A solid arm wrapped itself around his shoulders and he felt his hair being brushed back and tucked behind his ear as Harry knelt down beside him.
"Draco, you alright?" Harry asked, concern coloring his voice, as he reached for the box of tissues on the commode lid. He set it on the floor and pulled one out, wiping Draco's mouth. "I woke up and heard you in here."
Draco looked up, his eyes bloodshot and huge. "I'm so sick, Harry. I've never felt this bad before," he said, his voice dropping to a rough whisper.
Harry shook his head sadly. "I told you not to get that take-out. Last time I ate there, I got sick too," Harry said as he stroked Draco's tangled hair.
"Remind me next time we're by there to hex them to oblivion," the blond said shakily before leaning forward again.
Harry stifled a snort and reached up and pulled the rest of Draco's hair back as the blond threw up again.
Leaving his lover braced on the toilet for another onslaught of sickness, Harry twisted around and pulled a washcloth off of the towel rack. He leaned over and wet it with cool water from the tap. He wrung it out and then wiped off Draco's paler than pale face. Gently, he washed off the blond's neck and traced a path down to his stomach with the cool cloth. Letting the cloth slide out of his hand, he tenderly rubbed the pale stomach. His hand traced a small path of gooseflesh along the fair hair disappearing under the waistband of Draco's pants.
"Feel like getting back in bed, Love?" Harry asked, as he put Draco's arm around his shoulders.
"Yeah," Draco rasped back, his throat aching with just that one syllable.
Harry pulled him up, holding him up for the most part as they staggered back into the bedroom.
Setting the blond on the bed, Harry settled him in the bed, tucking the covers around him. He sat down next to him and brushed the pale hair from his face, his fingers carding through the tangles.
"Do you want something to drink? Flat ginger ale always seems to help me," Harry suggested, as he gently brushed the pale cheek.
Draco shifted into the caress. "I don't know, whatever you think is best."
Harry frowned at the remark. "Haven't you ever had ginger ale to settle your stomach before? Surely Narcissa didn't just give you a potion every time you were sick, did she?" Harry asked as he made to stand up, hitching up his baggy pajama bottoms.
An odd look of shame and sadness flickered across the blond's face before he looked up at Harry.
"Mother never took care of me when I was sick. She always had the house-elf do it. He was really quite nice, but a bit annoying at times." Draco sighed and sat up and pulled Harry back down to sit next to him. "Dobbins was very good with potions."
"Dobbins, eh?" Harry bit back a smile.
"Yeah, don't know what happened to him. He vanished at the end of second year. I guess he pissed off Father one time too many," the blond said, the sadness creeping back into his voice.
Harry loosely wrapped his arms around the blond and kissed him on the ear.
A tremor ran down Draco's back at that small, simple gesture. He looked at Harry, a tiny tear slipped from his eye and ran down his cheek. Draco tried to wipe it away before Harry noticed, but Harry shifted and kissed the spot where it had stopped.
Draco turned his head, embarrassed at being so emotional. Malfoy's were cold, cunning, and cruel even; they never cried.
"Don't… just don't," Harry whispered as he tightened his embrace.
In those few words, there it was; something so simple and pure, something that had been missing from his life for oh-so-long, something that he didn't know existed between them until now. Eyes shining with unshed tears, Draco looked into Harry's dark green eyes. Eyes that had given him looks of love and amusement since they had met in his shop.
Harry cleared his throat, and ran his fingertip down Draco's cheekbone until it came to rest upon his pale lips. He slid his hand down to the blond's chin and leaned into kiss him, his lips meeting softly with the moist pale lips of his lover.
Draco's lips started to part when Harry tentatively pressed his tongue forward. Suddenly, Draco jerked backwards, startling Harry.
"Ergh, no don't! I taste like a sewer!" Draco said, his hand coming up and covering his mouth.
Harry could only shake his head. Smiling fondly he asked, "Feeling a bit better then?" He patted the blond's thigh, and made to get up. "Look, brush your teeth. I'm going downstairs and get you a drink." Walking toward the door, he stopped and hitched up his pajamas that had dropped dangerously low about his hips. Seeing Draco watching him, he grinned.
"Stop perving on my arse, Malfoy."
Draco flashed Harry a brilliant smile, almost as bright as the sun breaking through the clouds on a gloomy day. He watched a moment longer until his boyfriend vanished down the stairs. He reached over for his wand on the bed stand, and a quietly spoken Scourgify later; he was snuggling back down in the bed, curling towards Harry's side.
Moments later Harry came back into the bedroom carrying a tumbler of flat ginger ale. He walked closer to the bed and snickered as he looked at the sleeping blond. "Little shite," he chuckled, setting the tumbler on Draco's bed stand, next to his wand.
He stood there and studied the peaceful features, and a small smile crossed his lips. Harry walked around the bed to his side and crawled under the covers. He laid his arm across Draco's hip, his hand resting in the small of the blond's back, and moved closer until their lips were almost touching.
something 'bout how you stay on my mind,
There's something 'bout the way
I whisper your name when I'm asleep
Maybe it's the look you get in your eyes.
Maybe it's the way that makes me feel to see you smile.
I'm a lucky man, Draco thought as he opened his eyes. His breath feathered across the lips so close to his. Draco shifted and closed his eyes, his lips moving across Harry's in a slow dance, stopping only when Harry's hand started tracing small circles across his back.
the reasons they may change
But what I'm feeling stays the same.
"Umm," came the quiet reply.
I can't put my fingers on just what it is
makes me love you, you baby.
So don't ask me to describe,
I get all choked up inside,
thinking bout the way.
Harry gazed steadily into the dark blue-grey eyes watching him. He pulled Draco closer, and dipped his head down to the little spot on his neck near his shoulder and brushed his lips across the creamy skin there, and murmured, "Love you too."
something 'bout the way you look tonight.
There's nothing more to say then,
I feel it in the way.