Work Text:
Draco had a tiring day at work. The minute he came home, he took off his shoes and entered their living room.
Harry lifted his head from the magazine he was reading, sprawled out on the couch with a soft, thick blanket draped over him.
“Someone had a long day,” Harry teased.
“Well, I see you're as nice as ever,” Draco replied, running a hand through his hair. It had been styled and combed neatly that morning, but after all the ruckus in the lab—and the plants going rogue because of Longbottom's incompetence—he looked like he’d just gotten out of a catfight.
Harry gave him a sympathetic smile. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“God, no. I'm tired. I'm going to take a shower.”
“Do you want me to join?” Harry teased again.
Draco didn’t need to do more than give Harry a sharp glare before he hid his face back behind the pages of his magazine.
Draco came out of the shower to see Harry was no longer on the couch, which was great—more space for him. He sprawled himself out, reaching for the pillow behind him. Too far away. He was frustrated but too lazy to get up. It didn’t matter; he’d fall asleep either way, uncomfortable or not. His head began to grow lighter, and he was nearly asleep when—
Whump.
A pillow hit him in the face.
Draco groaned, moving the pillow off and throwing a glare at Harry.“What?” Harry said, amused. “It looked like you needed one.” He sat down at the other end of the sofa, next to Draco’s feet, placing two cups of tea on the table. Draco turned his head, debating whether to take a sip or just fall asleep. Then Harry grabbed his foot, massaging it. God, yes, this was what he needed. It hurt, but the pain began to fade as Harry rubbed warmth back into him.
“God, you’re ice cold,” Harry muttered.
“Well, it was snowing outside, and my shoes weren’t exactly waterproof,” Draco replied. “There was three inches of snow. My socks were completely soaked. I was convinced my toes were about to fall off.”
Harry chuckled. But Draco was still freezing and grabbed Harry’s arm, pulling him on top of him. Harry shifted easily, hooking his arms around Draco’s shoulders and resting his chin in the nook of his neck.
“I’m cold. Warm me up,” Draco demanded. “So that’s all I am to you? A heater?” Harry smirked.
“It is one of your duties as my boyfriend to keep me warm.” Harry lifted his head from Draco’s shoulder, grinning as he opened his mouth and blew a gust of hot air right into Draco’s face. Draco recoiled. “What in the world did you eat?”
“What? I thought you wanted me to warm you up.” “Get back down—or brush your teeth. I just showered and I don’t want to smell like whatever garbage you’re putting into your body.” Harry collapsed back down, still chuckling into Draco’s neck. Draco huffed. He felt like he should retaliate. “God, Harry, when did you get so heavy?” he muttered. “I can leave if your frail little body can’t handle it.”
Draco shoved him in the side. “Ow! How dare you.” They chuckled. Harry moved his head, kissing him on the side of his neck, then near his ear, moving toward his nose. They stared at each other a second longer before Draco said, “You’re such an ass, you know.” He pulled Harry back into his arms. Their legs tangled together as Draco tried to leech off Harry’s body heat. They were only going to stay there for a bit. They still needed to make dinner. And do laundry.
Just a bit longer.
But God—Harry’s breath was so calming, his hair tickling Draco's chin. The way his cold breath passed over Draco’s neck, again and again...
They laid there for a couple of hours.
Or well—
The whole night.