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The floo whooshes as he stepped into the house, brushing off the soot from his Auror uniform. In other cases, Harry would have apparated straight back home but this particular assignment required him to fill up some unnecessary paperwork before he could get back.
He heard a clanking sound coming from the direction of the kitchen and he knew he was in for hell. Rushed and angry footsteps came closer and closer to the living room until finally, his love was standing in front of him. Seething.
“Hey lo-”
“Fourteen days.” He ground out, fists clenching by his sides, “Fourteen fucking days.”
“I-”
“Shut up.” The blond raised a hand to cut him short. He looked to the heavens, probably praying for even an ounce of patience to deal with him but none of it mattered to Harry. He was just happy to hear his boyfriend’s voice again, even if it was only to shout at him.
“Tell me, Potter, is there a reason you keep running off from me for so long?” Draco asked, very much pissed off.
“Draco you know that’s not how it is.” Harry tried to reason.
“Is it not? Because it doesn’t feel like you live here with me anymore.” He took a step forward, “You're off to some part of the world for days after you’ve barely stayed here for a week.”
Draco’s neck had started to turn a shade of pink from the obvious strain he was putting on his voice so he wouldn’t yell.
“Two weeks Potter. Just got up one day, ‘Sorry love, I have to go’ and left for two whole weeks.” He repeated, “I didn’t even know you were coming back today! And of course, I couldn’t contact you and no one from your stupid department would tell me anything because obviously, the assignment was top secret!”
Draco looked ready to burst a vein. Harry knew better than anyone how hard it was for Draco to stay in an empty house for long durations. He had trouble sleeping even when Harry was in bed with him and he couldn’t imagine how Draco must have felt the past two weeks.
“I know baby, I’m so sorry,” Harry said knowing full well it wouldn't make a difference. He took a step forward, sighing internally when Draco turned away.
“Draco, I really had no idea it would take two weeks,” he continued, “And I promise this is the last one for a while.”
“For a while.” Draco chuckled humorlessly. Draco turned around to face him, arms folded across his chest, eyes spiteful. “How long is ‘a while’ Potter? Today? Tomorrow? How much time till you leave only to come back looking like this, every time?”
Harry knew he looked like shit. Though he had washed all the dirt before he came home, his face was still sunken and there were obvious cuts on his knuckles.
“But you know what's worse?” he continued and it looked like he was fighting the choke in his throat, “You’re gone so often, sometimes I think you’re not going on missions at all.”
“Draco!” Harry exclaimed horrified and rushed to Draco. Shit. He didn’t think it would get this bad. He knows Draco trusts him enough to never truly believe that Harry would ever cheat on him but there have been more days than one where Draco has tried to convince Harry to leave him because he thinks Harry deserves better.
He yanked Draco closer, who had his head hung, refusing to meet Harry’s eyes, and hugged him fiercely and Draco quite literally collapsed into his arms, unable to hold himself up anymore. And Harry knew, he knew Draco’s had an exhausting time trying to keep himself up these last couple of weeks.
“That’s not true. That’ll never be true. Tell me you know that.” He said firmly. He needed to hear it.
Draco nodded slightly but that wasn’t enough.
“Tell me Draco.” Harry’s voice was quieter but still demanding.
“I know.” He heard his boyfriend’s small voice reply.
Harry sighed and kissed the side of Draco’s head. For a while he just held him, letting Draco move around in his arms, hearing his shaky exhales and occasionally, a small sniffle.
“Did you get much sleep?” Harry asked, stroking Draco’s hair.
“What do you think?” Draco replied, his voice tired and muffled as he buried his face in the crook of his neck.
“Me either,” Harry admitted, “how about we go upstairs, I’ll change and then we can cuddle?”
He felt Draco nod against his shoulders and pressed a kiss to his nose. He reveled in the fact that he was the only one who could see Draco, the sharp-tongued and maybe sometimes rude posh git become a soft and delicate mess. But he didn’t want it at the expense of upsetting him.
Draco pulls away first and goes back to the kitchen to finish whatever he was doing there and Harry watches him walk away. The way Draco’s walking, like he’s tired, defeated by this argument makes something tighten in his chest. He’s going to have a long conversation with Robards when he goes back to work.
Harry walks upstairs to their room and changes his clothes as fast as he could and gets into the comforter. Draco walks in through the door and eyes Harry, smiling and comfortable in his pajamas, waiting expectantly to hold him. He looks around the room before sitting on the edge of the bed.
“I don’t need you to hold me, Potter.” Draco states.
Harry maintains his smile even though he’s sighing internally. Even after almost a year of dating, Draco thinks he needs to show he's tough and composed after displaying even a shred of vulnerability. Like Harry might take advantage of it.
“I know,” Harry shifts to make place for him, “but I missed you and I need to be held.”
Draco rolls his eyes but reluctantly joins him. He’s already wearing his pajamas so there’s no way Harry’s going to let him get away now. Draco begrudgingly sits down next to him, carefully leaving some space between them, and sits up straighter, hands awkwardly folded over each other in his lap. He looks to the ceiling, then to the cupboards, avoiding Harry’s eyes, lest he shows how much he really really wants to fall in his arms.
And the thing is, they both know that Harry knows that. But it happens every time because Harry lets it happen. Because he likes to feel Draco struggle in his arms when he hugs him and then just melt.
Harry waits for a minute or two before speaking up.
“I missed you so much” and then ‘forcibly’ pulls Draco in his arms. Draco resists, just a little wriggle of his body, and whines a long ‘no’ but ends up sitting sideways between Harry's legs. He’s still trying to get out of his grasp which makes Harry fondly roll his eyes seeing as how easily he just climbed between his legs.
Harry wraps both his arms around his waist and squeezes and pulls him tighter against his chest till he knows Draco can’t possibly be comfortable and then murmurs into his forehead. “I’m really sorry Draco.”
And just like that, he feels Draco melt into him, bury his face in Harry’s chest and fist his T-shirt. His breath comes out in shaky huffs like he’s trying to control himself but fails and moves impossibly closer to him.
They stay silent for a few moments until Harry decides to start the conversation.
“Baby-“
“You're a terrible,” a light punch to his chest, “terrible,” another punch, “terrible person.” He finally lifts his head from his chest and glossy mercury eyes meet his and Harry falls in love again. Draco’s face is a little puffy and his lips wet and pouty. His cheeks have a slight colour to them, completely in contrast with his pale, milky skin and it looks like camellias in snow. He looks every bit an angel except his eyes. Those sharp eyes where Harry could see an archer looking for its next target.
“Are you even listening to me?” Draco scolds. “You’re a horrible person. Whoever said that you were selfless and noble could not be more wrong. You only think about yourself, and you're reckless and stupid and a right git.”
Harry keeps looking at the wall in front of him, taking the insults and trying not to laugh. “I agree”
“Good.” Draco huffs, crossing his arms and pushing himself further against Harry’s chest. “Because you are.”
“I know, I’m sorry.” Resting his cheek against the platinum hair, Harry finds himself smiling into it. He waits for a moment of silence, making sure the cuddly man-child in his arms doesn’t start his tantrum again. “I love you.”
He knows he doesn’t need Draco to say them back but he can’t deny how wonderful it feels to have Draco’s body ease into his own.
He hears a sniffle and a moment later, “I did too. But I don’t love you very much right now.”
Harry has to physically keep himself from laughing this time and schools his expression before replying. “I’m sorry to hear that. What can I do to win your heart back?”
Draco scoffs but plays along. “Well, when you’re quite done holding me like the touch starved child you are,” he turns to straddle him, “you could start by taking at least a week off, giving me shoulder rubs and having lots of sex.”
Harry places his hands on his boyfriend's back and pulls him closer until he's comfortably seated with his long fingers locked behind Harry’s neck. Harry moves forward to lightly brush his lips against the soft ones in front of him.
“I think that can be arranged.” He murmurs into his lips.
“Good.” Draco sounds a bit breathless but also like he's breathing fine after a long time. “Now cuddle me like you mean it.”
This time Harry laughs out and kisses the boy in his lap soundly. He pulls him impossibly closer and lies back on the bed. Draco’s breathing contently over him, nuzzling his jaw every now and then and Harry is stroking his back, placing loving kisses on his forehead. Because he knows that no matter what, they’ll be alright.
Especially because they’re going on a (surprise) holiday next week, Harry thinks and smiles to himself.
And especially because he hears a quiet ‘I do love you’ mumbled into his chest before falling asleep, arms full of the man that he loves.