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There’s an unofficial tradition for professional Quidditch players and their significant others. There have been revelations and celebrations for some. For others, fights have broken out, reflecting very poorly on the Quidditch player caught in the middle. The fans loved the tradition and when Harry became an official Quidditch player, the fans were excited to see him partake in this tradition. What tradition is this? The wearing of the jersey. Not just any jersey, of course, like the ones sold at games or in Quidditch shops. Actual official player jerseys.
Harry, as usual, served to both keep in suspense and disappoint. At first, the majority assumed Ginny Weasley would be wearing the colors of his team while Harry would wear her colors from her team. That was not to be, since they had never gotten back together after the war. They were just very good friends, practically family, with a friendly rivalry.
Gossip rags speculated about every person who was spotted out with him. Thank Merlin for their teams personal PR manager. He had it on good authority that he was one of the favorites for PR because he was, as his team’s manager put it, a “triple threat.” He was already a celebrity, he was an actual skilled flyer, and, even though there were crimes committed during the war, he actually kept to himself and caused no trouble. It helped that he didn’t date. Been there, tried that, and been traumatized each time.
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Harry breathed in deeply as he mounted his broom. It was the first game of the season, this being Harry’s fifth. It was especially special for Harry for a few reasons. Last year, about halfway through the season, his dumb luck had abandoned him and he had gotten injured during a game pretty badly. After he had woken up several days later his coach, team manager, and team healer had all banned and benched him from practices and games, since they were used to his ‘I-feel-no-pain-‘tis-but-a-scratch’ attitude.
Once he healed and was discharged from the hospital, he had immediately hired the best physiotherapist. This man was renowned throughout Europe, mainly mainland Europe. Injured players clambered for this doctor’s attention. Harry knew he paid a small fortune for this guy but he felt restless and useless when not flying. Imagine his shock at having Draco Malfoy appear at his home and tell him he was his physiotherapist. The blond had given him a raised eyebrow and told him he could refund him most of his money but he’d take a small stipend for travel expenses. Harry had quickly shut that idea down and invited Malfoy in.
The physical therapy had been terrible at first. He was expecting the pain so it wasn’t that. It was because he hadn’t been listening to an extremely professional Malfoy, which was disconcerting. It wasn’t until Harry almost landed himself back in the hospital barely a week later due to his own stupidity that Malfoy gave him an ultimatum. Either he gets with the program or Malfoy leaves. Well, it was yelled with bigger words and with more swearing but that was the gist of it.
Harry reluctantly conceded after Malfoy explained how he’d never fly again. That reaction wasn’t good enough for the blond, who let it be known in the fiercest scowl Harry’s ever seen. He ended up full heartedly conceding when Malfoy threatened to call Ginny, Hermione, Mrs. Weasley, and even his own mother, Narcissa Malfoy. Two of them together was bad enough but all four actually put fear in him.
Malfoy usually did hourly sessions with his clients but since he didn’t trust Harry on his own he actually moved in for the duration of Harry’s recovery. Harry had been so angry about that but when Malfoy casually mentioned what Harry had done without any supervision suddenly all his friends were pro-Malfoy. It was annoying because Malfoy verbally treated him the same like they were back in school but his actions contradicted him. He’d be making fun of his hair while preparing his food and nutrition potions, or he’d sneer at him while helping him go through stretches as gently as possible to minimize pain.
Harry was getting mixed signals and it was confusing him. He had always felt confused around the blond though. It finally dawned on him when he reacted like a jealous lover when he saw a picture in the newspaper of Malfoy with another Quidditch player sitting next to each other and looking cozy in a restaurant. He had a crush on Malfoy. Probably had one back in school if he thought about it hard enough.
Harry was full of confidence and had molded himself to be as cool as a cucumber over the years of being a Quidditch star. Emotions made him act like a fool. Specifically romantic and sexual emotions. Malfoy definitely picked up on it considering he had been around Harry daily for a few months. Harry was glad Malfoy kept it professional but now he was extremely conscious of how much the blond actually had to touch him.
It had been embarrassing when Malfoy suggested he should invite a partner to “help with his needs.” Translation: You’re pent up and need a shag. Harry had blurted out that he didn’t have anyone, which seemed to astonish Malfoy. He then couldn’t seem to stop because he then suggested Malfoy give him a hand. The look on the blond’s face would have been funny if Harry hadn’t felt such humiliation and was hiding his face in his hands.
Malfoy had been more gentle than Harry thought he would be when he told Harry that he did not date nor fraternize with his clients. He also said that if Harry was still interested after his therapy and recovery were completed then to ask again. Harry had still kept his face hidden but he was grinning. Malfoy had then lightly smacked him and barked at him to get back to exercising.
Harry had only slipped up once with his crush in a physical capacity, which Malfoy didn’t discourage but didn’t encourage either. It wasn’t until the blond explained why the no romantic relationships rule was in place. He had had a few clients in the past try to wine and dine him. A few turned out to be in committed relationships and one just outright tried to assault him. Harry had been so angry when he was told about that incident. Malfoy asked him if he wanted to attack the guy and Harry said yes. The blond just laughed and told him the guy was in jail when Malfoy brought legal action against him, which caused a domino effect of all his past victims stepping up. Harry remembered the case because he’d met that Quidditch player and wished he never had.
Harry kept it extremely casual but couldn’t stop himself from little things like physically being close to Malfoy. The blond let him, which made him extremely happy. They had casually gone out a few times, making the gossip mill speculate on whether they were going out or not. Malfoy would sneer at the more pushy reporters while politely telling the nicer reporters that they were just checking Harry’s progress to see if he could physically be around people. He then plugged his physiotherapy business, which was not what the reporters wanted. There was always still a tiny write up about it but it wasn’t front page news.
When Harry was well enough to not need Malfoy around daily he was dreading the day the blond would move out. He tried to hide how he felt but of course the blond could read him like a book. Instead of calling him out on it, Malfoy mentioned how convenient it was to have a place that felt centralized to all the locations he tended to frequent. He had side eyed Harry as he said something about finding living accommodations in the area. Harry tried not to show his eagerness when he said there was more than enough room and the blond was welcome to stay. Malfoy had eyed the decor disdainfully, like he often did ever since he had moved in, so Harry said he could furnish however he wanted. The blond’s eyes practically glittered in delight. Harry’s legs felt like jelly at the grin he got. He had been glad he was sitting.
After months of healing he was back in tip top shape. He had actually done his therapy faster than anticipated. His coach, team manager, and team healer put him through rigorous tests to make sure he was actually healed. It had felt like tryouts all over again but he passed with flying colors. He was scheduled to practice the week after but wouldn’t play in any games until the new season.
Harry had been so ecstatic to be back that when he got home and saw Malfoy he hugged the blond, asked him out to dinner, and then kissed him all in the span of two minutes. He abruptly pulled away when he felt the blond shaking and was worried he had just ruined everything. It turned out Malfoy was laughing. The blond just said yes to dinner and pulled him back into their second kiss.
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Harry nodded at all his teammates as the announcer started listing players. He knew his name being called last was due to being a seeker but it felt more dramatic when the announcer gave a longer pause than usual. He shook his head amused and kicked off to do a circuit of the pitch as the crowd went wild. He didn’t even try to hide his joyful grin at being back. He flew to his starting position after completing the circuit and looked over to the family area where a certain blond was. He had enough time to roll his eyes at the fact that Malfoy was still wearing his jacket instead of showing off Harry’s jersey. When the snitch was released his entire focus shifted. The whistle blew.
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“You were looking awfully smug.” Harry said as he lounged on the bed, waiting for Draco to come out of the bathroom.
“There’s certain attention I like, especially attention that I dictate.” Draco said from inside the bathroom. “Did you see their faces?”
“I was too busy snogging you in victory.” Harry said smiling at the memory of catching the snitch, flying over to the family stands where Draco had walked over to the edge while casually taking off his jacket, and then grabbing him to snog him in excitement. He was excited for his victory and seeing Draco in his jersey did things to him.
“I can see why you would be distracted.” Draco said finally coming out of the bathroom.
Harry felt dizzy as all his blood rushed south. Draco was standing in the doorway wearing his jersey. The blond smirked and did a spin for him. The jersey was a little on the broad side for the blond but only enough for the collar to be loose. Jerseys were made long to be tucked comfortably in Quidditch trousers. The length was just barely enough to cover Draco. And apparently that was all Draco was wearing.
“Are you waiting for an invitation?” Harry asked breathlessly as Draco leaned against the doorway.
“Embossed and in calligraphy.” Draco deadpanned.
“Get your smug arse over here, Malfoy.” Harry said after snorting.
“Make me.” Draco said airily.
“With pleasure.” Harry said as he got off the bed and walked over to the blond. He then hefted Draco over his shoulder, getting an undignified squawk, walked back over to the bed, and gently dropped the blond on the bed. Draco looked at him so disgruntled.
“You’re a barbarian.” Draco said and inhaled sharply when Harry straddled him.
“All you had to do was walk over to the bed.” Harry pointed out as he ran a hand through the blond’s hair.
“Why would I make things easy for you?” Draco asked as he let out a pleased sigh. Harry just hummed amused.
“I hope you have no appointments tomorrow.” Harry said conversationally.
“Why’s that?” Draco asked, seemingly innocently except the dilated eyes gave him away. Harry just smirked and kissed his blond deeply.