A little thing that presented itself to me on my morning dog walk and wouldnât leave me alone until it was written. Iâll put it on AO3 later, but for now, please enjoy.
Thank you to @purplehotmess for a wonderful betaing job on this â¤ď¸
A Thousand Miles Apart (and I know I love you)
Harry laughed as he leaned back against Dracoâs chest. Theyâd not been back long from a night out and everything was funny.
âI canât believe youâre going on the international tour tomorrow,â Draco sighed, one hand absently combing through Harryâs hair. âWho will come out on wild nights with me while youâre gone?â
Harry laughed again. âI know. Itâll be over with before you know it, though.â
âI can only hope you donât miss me too much to concentrate on the Snitch,â Draco deadpanned before laughing.
âYou could come with me if you wanted,â Harry suggested, sitting up to look at Draco, who shook his head. âFriends are allowed to come.â
âI canât. Just because Iâm free of house arrest, doesnât mean Iâm free. I canât leave the country for another six months.â
âOh yeah,â Harry said with a frown, resuming his previous position and putting his head back on Dracoâs chest. âI forgot about that.â
âLucky you,â Draco muttered.
Harryâs frown deepened. Since Dracoâs house arrest had finished three months ago, and he had turned up on Harryâs doorstep to both thank him and apologise to him, theyâd slowly but surely become firm friends. In fact, they probably spent more time together than they did apart, now that their friends were busy starting their families (or in Pansyâs case, had moved to France).
At first it surprised Harry how easily they got on with one another now that all of the issues from their past had gone. He hadnât felt animosity towards Draco for a long time.
Rolling onto his side, Harry looked at Draco. âIâm sorry. I will fire call you and send you owls every day Iâm away if it helps.â
Draco snorted, a look of amusement passing across his face. âLike youâd have time.â
âIâd make time. Really, I would,â Harry replied. âYou know I would.â
Draco sighed again. âYouâre right. I do know you would. Listen, Iâm getting tired now. Do you mind if we turn in?â
âNot at all. Letâs sleep.â
And sleep they did. Right there on the sofa because neither of them could be bothered to move. It wasnât the first time theyâd fallen asleep together and Harry was sure it wouldnât be the last. There was an odd sort of comfort that came from having a warm body next to him, whether it was in bed or on the sofa, and he suspected that Draco felt the same.
Three weeks later, Harry found himself in the middle of an international Quidditch tour with Puddlemere United. Theyâd been through Europe and were now somewhere in Asia - Singapore, he thought - playing against some of the top teams in the world. He should have been happy. He loved nothing more than flying freely, and catching the Snitch, but every night after his team mates had left him in the bar of whatever pub theyâd found that day, he couldnât shake the feeling of loneliness and sadness that settled over him.
He had spoken to Draco a couple of times, but the time difference made it hard to schedule a call. The calls he had managed to make, though, had brought a smile to his face like no other. Heâd been able to hear Dracoâs mood lifting too as soon as he realised it was Harry on the other end.
On his third night in Singapore, while he was sleeping, Harry awoke with a start, sitting bolt upright in bed. His skin was warm and clammy, glistening in the moonlight from the same sweat that was sticking his hair to his neck and forehead. His chest was heaving, his boxer shorts and the bedsheets were damp. Heâd dreamed about Draco before, of course, but never like that. That had been something different. Something, he realised, he wanted more of and next time, he wanted it for real.
The next day, after securing himself an international Portkey, Harry stood on Dracoâs doorstep. Heâd waited for what felt like an eternity before the door was thrown open. Draco stood in front of him, bleary-eyed and his hair standing on end. Harry smiled.
âWhat the bloody hell are you doing here?â
Harry didnât answer straight away. Heâd rehearsed what he wanted to say the whole time he was travelling, but now that he was here with Draco in front of him, heâd forgotten what words were. Instead, not caring who saw them, he stepped forward and kissed Draco. It was more than a peck on the lips, but he stopped himself from taking it too far, and then he was gazing at Draco once more with his lower lip caught between his teeth.
Draco, who had definitely kissed back, was looking back at him with an open mouth. They were both breathing hard.
âIâm sorry,â Harry said, finally. âIâve⌠been doing some thinking while Iâve been away.â
âSo I see,â Draco replied faintly. âDo you want to come in?â
Harry nodded and followed Draco inside.
âUpstairs,â Draco said as he closed the door behind Harry. âLiving room is too cold.â
Harry laughed softly and headed up the stairs to Dracoâs room, kicking off his shoes as he went. Theyâd had many talks in the confines of Dracoâs room, usually snuggled together under the duvet for warmth. This was not the Manor that Draco had lived in for most of his childhood, but a small terraced house in London itself. There was a small fireplace in the living room, but it couldnât heat the whole house.
Settling themselves on the bed, Draco wrapped in his duvet, they looked at each other once more.
âExplain,â Draco said, softly. He sounded almost hopeful.
âI realised something. Last night, when I was in my hotel room in Singapore,â Harry began, frowning as he tried to put his thoughts into words. âFor the last however many months, you and I have spent pretty much every waking minute together where we can. You occupy more of my thoughts than I ever knew. These last three weeks have been torture because you werenât there. Thatâs not all. I had a dream last night. That you and I were⌠intimate.â
âDraco⌠I liked it. I immediately wanted more of those feelings that⌠well, that I imagined I felt with you.â
Harry frowned, a look of hurt crossing his features. âN-no?â
âNo! I mean, yes. But no, that⌠Harry. I fell asleep on the sofa and I had the same dream. But I donât think it was a dream. It felt too real, I think we⌠somehow connected last night.â
Harry drew in a shaky breath. âAre you serious?â
Draco nodded, his cheeks turning pinker. âYes. Iâve heard of it happening but itâs usually a mutual thing between a couple separated by distance. Not⌠two people who are supposed to be friends.â
âFriends isnât enough,â Harry whispered, realising how close together they were. âI want more. I want you, all the time. Forever.â
âI want that too,â Draco replied softly. âBut you⌠IâmâŚâ
âDonât. Donât even think that,â Harry interrupted, recognising the look in Dracoâs eyes. âWhat happened is in the past. Itâs over. Youâre moving on, youâre making amends. You deserve to be happy.â
âWhat about your reputation?â
Harry snorted. âSince when do I care what the papers think? They know weâre friends. They donât have to like it, but they canât expect me to care what they think. We have something special, Draco. If we didnât, we wouldnât be here in the first place.â
Draco smiled. âI suppose youâre right.â
âI know Iâm right. So⌠should we give this a try?â
Dracoâs smile turned into a smirk. âOnly if we can have a replay of the âdreamâ. Iâd like to see you come undone.â
Harry grinned. âI think that can be arranged,â he said, closing the gap between them and kissing Draco fiercely as he pushed him back onto the mattress.
