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Harry didn’t let people touch him.
At least not outside of the Weasleys, Hermione, and occasionally Luna because she doesn’t have any sense of personal boundaries.
It’s not that it was intentional, exactly. It’s just that he didn’t really trust people’s motives anymore. He'd gotten a bit jaded in the past two years following the war, people never seemed to be genuinely interested in him.
Until Draco Malfoy.
Harry had never done drugs but he imagined that it must feel similar to the way his entire body lit up whenever the other man touched him. Even something as simple as the way he slipped his fingers through Harry’s while they were walking down the sidewalk sent Harry's brain into a fizzle of ecstatic contentment.
“Are you even listening to me?” Draco asked, interrupting Harry’s musings.
“I want to say yes,” Harry replied, leaning his shoulder against Draco’s, “And I was, but then-”
“I bored you to death with my talk about potion’s theory,” Draco sighed.
“No,” he answered quickly. “No, I love to hear you talk about things you’re excited about, it’s just…” he trailed off, not quite sure how to say it.
“Just what?”
“Just,” he huffed at himself, “you started holding my hand.”
“I started holding your hand,” Draco repeated slowly like Harry had said something insane.
“I can’t think when you’re touching me,” Harry replied defensively as they arrived at Draco’s flat.
“Come inside with me,” he said, giving his hand a little squeeze.
Harry shook his head, tugging his hand out of Draco’s hand.
“Harry,” he murmured.
“You think I’m crazy,” Harry said.
“I don’t,” Draco replied steadily.
He narrowed his eyes, “You think it’s stupid.”
“I think it’s adorable,” Draco said with a self conscious little laugh. “Come inside?” he asked again.
“Okay,” Harry whispered, still feeling a little unsure.
When they got inside, Draco headed into the kitchen, “tea?” he called over his shoulder.
“Yes.” Harry followed him into the kitchen and watched Draco make tea. He used to do it with magic, when they started dating, but Harry had said something one night when they were both a little drunk about how tea never tasted quite right to him when it was made with magic. The other man had made it the muggle way ever since.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Draco asked, as he set a cup of tea in front of Harry.
“Do you?” he echoed, rubbing his thumb over the smooth handle of the mug in front of him and avoiding looking at his boyfriend.
“I want to know if it bothers you,” Draco said. “You can tell me as much or as little as you want but I just don’t want to be doing something casually that you don’t enjoy.”
He took a sip of his tea, “My therapist says I’m touched starved.”
Draco blinked at him.
“I know,” he said, shaking his head. “I didn’t think it was a real thing either, but it’s actually more common than you’d think. There are obviously a lot of other things wrong with me,” he told the other man, not quite able to meet his eye, “but she says that it’s a contributing factor.”
“Can I hold your hand now?” Draco asked softly, then he added, “I’d really like to hold your hand.”
Harry flipped his hand over and slid it across the table to Draco in silent offering. He really wanted Draco to hold his hand in fact. “I didn’t really believe her at first but then once we started dating I started feeling better. And I’m sure it’s other things too, it feels nice to be known and cared about, but when you touch me,” Harry shook his head and Draco’s fingers held his a little tighter, “I don’t know how to describe it.”
“Can I say something?” Draco asked after a moment.
He looked up and saw that Draco was already watching him, he nodded.
“I know we’ve only been together a few months but I think I’m in love with you.”
Harry’s breath caught in his chest.
“When I was little,” he continued, “my mother used to say that there’s nothing that a good hug couldn’t fix. She told me that there’s a sort of magic in loving someone that heals from the inside.”
Harry nodded, a bit at a loss for words.
“I didn’t ever think it was real before.”
He brought Draco’s hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to his knuckles, “The magic of love has saved me before,” Harry said softly. “It makes sense that it would do it again.”
Draco squeezed his hand.
“I love you, too, you know,” Harry confessed.
He smiled, “I know. You’ve been healing me, too.”