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“Shit,” Harry murmured, rummaging through the packs of pads that were sitting in the front row of the shelf. They’d ran out of the ones Draco normally used, and that petrol station store was the only one that opened twenty four hours for miles around. Frustrated, Harry pulled his phone from his pocket and dialed his boyfriend’s number.
Even though Harry had handed him his phone before leaving, Draco didn’t answer immediately. When he did, his voice sounded weak and more high-pitched than what he knew Draco was comfortable with.
“Yeah?”
“Sorry for calling… they don’t have any maxi size pads with wings left at the store.”
He heard a long, broken sigh, and then a low murmur. “Tell me what they have.”
“Um, okay. There are some pads with wings here, but they’re the ones with only one drop. Those are too small, right?” Draco hummed, and Harry went on. “There’s a medium size pack, but it’s all damp and dirty… who knows how long it’s been in here. And then there’s a pack with five drops on it, but these don’t have wings.”
He waited, but Draco didn’t reply. A choppy sound startled him a moment later.
“Draco?”
“ Ffffjshfsh…”
Harry heard a loud beep, and checked the notification bar. “Shit, okay, I’m out of range,” he said, bringing his phone back to his ear and hoping Draco could hear him. He returned the packs to the shelf and walked out of the store. The owner of the shop seemed deeply offended by that, but he couldn’t have cared less. “Draco?” he repeated, zipping his jacket with one hand to protect himself from the cold.
“What happened?”
“Phew,” he murmured, relieved, “thought I’d lost you. I was out of range. Do you want the maxi size ones with no wings, then?”
“Yeah… Hurry up. Hurts a lot.”
“I know, love. I’ll pay for these, go to the chemist’s and be there in no time, ‘kay?”
“Thanks,” Draco muttered. A sob escaped him, and Harry imagined him cowering in the sofa and covering himself with the electric blanket, his face buried in the cushions, just as he had left him.
“No problem,” Harry answered. He walked back into the store and strode towards the shelf to pick up the pack of pads. “I love you.”
“Love y-- sfhfhs…”
Harry couldn’t hear what Draco had said, but he didn't need to. Smiling, he ended the call and approached the bald guy that was glancing suspiciously at him from behind the counter.
***
Harry walked into the flat and quickly closed the door, rubbing his hands to rid himself of some of the cold that had seeped through his body.
Then he entered the living. Draco was still lying on the sofa, and had hid his face under a blanket. He was all curled up, knees against his chest and hair sprawled all over the cushions.
Harry left the bag on the desk beside the sofa, and practically flew to the kitchen to fill Draco’s glass with water. Back at the living, he opened the box of pills he’d just bought and gently brushed his boyfriend’s shoulder. Draco hadn’t moved at all since Harry had arrived.
“Here, Draco,” he murmured. Draco turned slowly with a pained grunt, and Harry helped him sit up, pulling the blanket back up to cover Draco's stomach.
Draco silently accepted the pill and brought it to his mouth. He drank some water and, while he handed the glass back to Harry, pressed at his belly and closed his eyes. Harry waited in silence, still crouching beside him while Draco took several deep breaths. He knew it was almost impossible for Draco to talk when the period cramps took him by surprise.
“I’m going to the loo,” Draco said suddenly. He stood up and grabbed the pack of pads.
“D’you want me to put on the TV while you're there?”
“Okay,” Draco muttered while he slowly walked towards the bathroom door.
Harry searched through more than twenty channels, and the only watchable thing he found was Coco, the Disney and Pixar film that had come out that year. Draco never admitted it out loud, but Harry knew he loved animated films, so he left it playing while he relocated the cushions and stretched out the blankets.
When Draco came back to the living, he slouched on the pile of cushions and lied back on the sofa, resting his feet on Harry’s thighs. Harry waited for Draco to cover his stomach with the electric blanket before asking, “Can I hug you?”
Draco nodded, and moved a bit to leave some room between his back and the sofa. Harry quickly snuggled inside, piling the cushions under his head so that he could see the film from atop Draco’s head. He wrapped his boyfriend in a hug, sighing when Draco slid one of his legs in between Harry’s and covered Harry’s hand with his.
“Your hand’s cold.” Draco smoothed out Harry’s fingers delicately and pressed Harry’s palm against the blanket.
“It was cold outside,” he answered. The warmth the blanked radiated seemed to reach his heart, and Harry smooched Draco’s head lightly.
Draco sighed, relaxing between his arms. “Thanks for going out for me.”
***
While they watched Coco, Draco winced and shuddered in Harry’s arms. The pills usually took a long time to take effect, and often didn’t completely ease the pain, but Harry knew that wasn’t the only reason Draco was having such a bad time. Being on his period always worsened his dysphoria, partly because it was a constant reminder that his body wasn’t like he wanted it to be, and partly because he couldn’t wear his binder when his breasts were so sensitive.
As much as he wanted to, Harry knew he couldn’t make all of Draco’s pain magically disappear. But he did know a few ways to soothe him. When Draco trembled, Harry caressed his back in slow circles. When he cowered, Harry enveloped him strongly and put pressure on his belly. When he sighed, Harry kissed his hair and neck and whispered in his ear that he loved him.
An add interrupted the film. Harry had started to doze off, but came to his senses when Draco turned and buried his head in Harry’s neck. Their knees pressed together, and a broken sigh caressed Harry’s throat.
“I hate this,” Draco murmured.
Harry brought him closer to himself, and took off his glasses so he could press his head in his boyfriend’s hair. “I know, love. It’ll be over soon, okay? Just two more months and you’ll be on T.”
“Yeah, but even then it’s gonna take a while for the period to disappear.” Draco was practically clinging to him, so Harry put his arm under Draco’s body to cradle him.
“I know,” he repeated. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” Draco said, so low Harry could barely hear him. “I used to think I’d never make it this far.”
Hearing that made Harry’s heart ache; made him want to do so much more than just hug Draco. He wanted to cover Draco’s face in kisses, to hide Draco between his arms, to bury Draco under his own skin.
Draco didn’t usually talk about what had happened in his parents’ home, and Harry never did either unless Draco brought it up first. But it was always present in their lives. The Malfoys were the reason Draco and Harry were living together despite being nineteen, in a rented flat that Harry was paying with the money his parents had left him when they’d died. The Malfoys, who had insulted and threatened Draco for years for dating Harry, and not one of the white sons of their work peers. The Malfoys, who had kicked out their own son when they discovered he was transgender.
That day, Harry had ran away from the Dursleys’ home to be with his boyfriend. He’d wanted to get away from there his whole life, and he and Draco had been planning their escape for years. They’d decided to move out of their homes as soon as Harry was of age and had access to his parents’ inheritance, so Draco’s parents had only sped up the process. Thankfully, Molly had taken them in for the months previous to Harry’s eighteenth birthday.
Draco turned in his arms, almost lying atop him. Harry moved so he was lying on his back while Draco brought a hand to his cheek.
“Stop thinking about it,” he said. He was studying Harry’s face, and Harry knew he’d be reading in his eyes the surge of troubled thoughts that had just come back to his mind. The bruises on Draco’s body, their first night together and away from their homes, the fear, the hopelessness…
Harry didn’t want to hurt Draco by making him remember, but he knew he couldn’t hide his thoughts even if he tried to. Draco had always been so good at reading him; even before they started meaning something to each other. Even when they were two stupid kids who hated each other, Draco had used that advantage to throw words at Harry that he knew would pierce Harry’s chest like knives, would knock down every one of his walls and destroy Harry’s sanity.
Harry stared into Draco’s eyes. “Sorry,” he muttered, caressing Draco’s cheekbone with a thumb while he let his fingertips sink in Draco’s blond strands. “I’m really proud of you, you know?”
The pill must have taken effect, because a subtle smile graced Draco’s lips. Harry smiled back, and Draco leaned forward and pressed their lips together in a tender kiss.
“Sap,” he muttered against Harry’s mouth. Harry’s smile widened. As soon as Draco rested his head under his chin, Harry hugged him with all the strength he was capable of.
“You love it and you know it.”