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Harry laid over the bed, his legs hanging off the side and arms stretched high above his head with his back arched. He was wearing a smile that Draco couldn't see but he could hear it, he heard it when Harry mouthed off about his wardrobe choice.
"Potter!" He snapped, gathering his attention and Harry glanced over propping up just slightly to see that he had changed his button up.
He rolled his eyes at his boyfriend, tilting his head with it, "all you did was change the color.."
Draco glared, his hands on his hips, "I'm going to kill you, if you say one more thing about my bloody shirt."
Harry sighed, rolling his eyes again, "I'm just pointing it out." Draco jerked his shirt off before throwing it at their shared closet. "What are you doing?!" Harry would have laughed at the annoyed response he got if Draco hadn't been stomping away to the bathroom.
"I'm not going!"
Harry hurried off the bed and after him, catching the door before it was slammed in his face, "ah, c'mon Malfoy, we're already running late… let's have a row when we get back."
"I'm not going." His tone was even and he made to shove Harry from the door, "so just go on without me."
"And what, risk The Prophet dragging our names through the mud?" He held fast, pushing the door open, "I can see it now," he continued, "Trouble in Paradise? Harry Potter out on the town without his boyfriend?"
Draco scoffed letting the door fall open and Harry tumbled into the bathroom before he moved to step around him as he caught himself.
"Ok, I'm sorry. You look lovely in anything you wear and you most certainly don't wear too much black."
"You don't mean it!" Draco fussed, heading out the door now. He just wanted to get away.
But before he could get to the door, Harry had his wand in hand and the door shut so Draco couldn't get away. "Malfoy, put the shirt on. We're leaving."
"I'm not going. Don't make me say it again."
"Good, because if you do say it again I really will leave without you." Harry warned, not quite sure if he actually meant it but it gave him the desired response he wanted. Draco looked at him with a lifted brow, arms crossed against his chest and a glare in his eyes. "Now that I have your attention," Harry was across the room now, Draco just within his grasp, "put a shirt on, let's go." He checked his watch, "we're about ten minutes too late, rather than fashionably."
Draco didn't answer, or respond, just stared.
"I'll get something out for you," Harry continued, and without turning around he gave a flick of his wand and a shirt came flying form the open closet. It was neither black nor a button up. "Here."
"That's rather informal…."
"I don't care," Harry held out the maroon sweater - clearly one of his, "it looks good on you, love."
Draco sighed taking the shirt from Harry and pulling it over his head, "fine."
"I knew you couldn't resist me…." Harry wrapped him in his arms, "what is it? My good looks or my sweet talking?"
"Couldn't have you showing up alone The Prophet would have a hay-day with that." Draco muttered, turning from his hold, "we should get on our way, Potter, us being too much later The Prophet will make us front page."
Harry groaned, "I'm not living that down am I?"
"Give us another one," Draco demanded as he made his way through their house, Harry close behind him. "C'mon Potter, dying to hear it."
"Draco Malfoy death by waiting for Harry Potter to wise up!"
"I think you've missed your calling, Potter," Draco laughed, turning around at the door, he rolled the sleeve of the dark red sweater just once and leaned in to give Harry a kiss, "you're forgiven."
"This just in, Harry Po-."
Draco slid his hand over his mouth, "that is quite enough Potter."