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“Cuddles.”
Draco blinked and looked over his shoulder to see Harry standing behind him. He had a tumbler of what Draco suspected was whiskey and he was glaring at Draco like he’d stolen his favorite quill. “Pardon?”
“Cuddles,” Harry demanded, lower lip protruding in a pout that Harry knew damn well that Draco had no defense against.
He glanced around the bar to see if anyone had noticed, hoping that perhaps no one had seen Harry approach him. No one knew about them, no one knew that they’d been seeing each other for the past four and a half months. “You’re drunk, Potter.”
Hurt flashed across Harry’s face and Draco wanted to slice out his own heart and hand it over. “M’not,” he mumbled. “Just want some cuddles.”
“It’s late,” Draco said desperately, glancing around and wondering who was listening. You could never be too careful when it came to the press. “You’re probably just tired.”
“Why won’t you give me cuddles?” Harry asked, eyes looking suspiciously wet. “Why are you ashamed of me?”
“Ashamed of you?” Draco asked, at this point he was sure half the bar was listening. “What-”
“I’d be good to you,” he said, pouting again at Draco. “If you wanted to tell people about us.” He shook his head, “I’ll be good to you no matter what,” he clarified, as though Draco didn’t already know that. “Please? Cuddles?”
And he didn’t know what to do or to say. He’d been keeping everything a secret for Harry’s sake.
“Oh go on, Malfoy!” Ron Weasley shouted at him from across the bar. “Everyone knows about the two of you already. Neither of you are as sneaky as you think you are, and Harry won’t shut the fuck up about you.”
He looked at Harry, “you told them about me?”
“He’s obsessed with you,” Ron supplied.
“And you’re obsessed with him,” Pansy called from where she was leaning by the pool table.
“Cuddles?” Harry asked, pulling Draco’s attention back to him.
“Oh, come here,” Draco said, pulling him into his arms and pressing a kiss to his lips.
Harry’s body melted against him, arms wrapping around Draco’s waist as he kissed him back. There was a smattering of good natured applause and wolf-whistling but Draco could hardly hear it, too distracted by the elation inside his chest.
After a moment, Harry pulled back, “take me home?”
And how could Draco refuse?