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“For fuck’s sake, why is this so fucking hard?”
Harry groaned, rolling over in his bed. He grabbed a pillow and shoved it over his face, trying desperately to drown out the sounds of his incompetent neighbour. He’d been cursing a blue streak for hours, accompanied by various thuds and crashes that had successfully been keeping Harry awake all night.
And, from the sounds coming from the other side of his wall, it didn’t sound like it was going to die down anytime soon.
Grudgingly, Harry removed his fluffy barrier and glanced at his clock. Bright red numbers stared back at him, blinding in the dark night. 3am, it read. He collapsed back against the bed, staring blearily at the roof. What was his neighbour trying to do exactly? It was three in the fucking morning! Who even does anything then? What sane person would be up and about, doing something at this ungodly hour that required-
“Fuck IKEA!” The loud shout penetrated his flimsy wall, interrupting his train of thought. “Fuck them, fuck these instructions, fuck this stupid bed!”
Ah. The curse of IKEA furniture.
Harry sighed. It didn’t sound like his neighbour was going to let him sleep all night. A loud bang from next door confirmed his suspicions. Ignoring him wouldn't work; Harry had been unsuccessfully trying to for hours already.
“All right, I’ve had enough of this,” Harry grumbled, dragging himself out of his warm bed. Drained of his energy, he stumbled through his flat, pulling his glasses on as he went. He yanked open his door, the lights blinding his eyes after so long spent in the dark. Angrily, he pounded on his neighbour’s door, wanting to put an end to his noisy endeavours.
“Hello?” his neighbour asked, opening his door.
Oh shit. He was cute.
He had white blonde hair that fell slightly over his slate grey right eye. He was tall; well, taller than Harry, with incredibly long legs highlighted by the frankly alarmingly orange Ninja Turtles boxers he was wearing. His pink cupid bow lips were parted ever-so-slightly. Harry wanted to feel them against his. He could just see the outline of the other man’s abs through the light grey shirt he was wearing, and they looked pretty damn good. Who was this guy?
“Can I help you?” he asked, eyebrow raised expectantly.
Whoops. Harry forgot that he actually wanted an answer.
“Hi, I’m Harry,” he introduced himself, sticking his hand out. “I live next door to you and you sounded like you needed some help.”
“Draco,” the other man replied, shaking his hand firmly. God, he had really soft hands. “Yeah, my mate bought me this bed from IKEA, but the instructions make no bloody sense!”
Harry laughed. “We’ve all been there,” he smirked. “Do you need some help? It’s just, it sounded like you were… struggling.”
“Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to keep you from your sleep.” Draco’s words betrayed his actions, as he held the door open in invitation while speaking.
‘You already were,’ Harry thought inwardly. “No, it’s no problem,” he insisted, stepping into the flat. “I couldn’t sleep anyway.”
Draco’s smile faltered as he shut the door behind Harry. “It… It wasn’t because of me was it?”
“Um, maybe a little,” Harry said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “It was a little loud.”
“Shit,” Draco murmured, leading him into his bedroom. He ran a hand through his light hair, messing up the strands. “I’m sorry. This bed was just giving me so grief and I was just getting so angry and I guess I let it get the better of me.” His voice rose in the middle of his rant before falling down to a soft, embarrassed tone. Twin spots of red appeared high on his cheekbones and he smiled gently.
“Well, I’m here now,” Harry smirked, looking down at the half assembled bed frame in the centre of the room. “And I’m basically an expert at IKEA furniture. You’re in good hands.” He winked at Draco, amplifying the blush on his cheeks. Harry smirked to himself before reaching down to grab the instructions.
“We’ll see,” Draco replied, joining him on the floor. “I was up to step 5.”
***********************
“I’m following the instructions! Why won’t it fucking fit in here?” Harry raged, wondering when IKEA got so damn complicated.
“An expert huh?” Draco teased, humour evident in his voice.
“I am!” Harry insisted, looking back and forth between the instructions and the materials in front of him. “Just… maybe not with beds… I swear, these things have gotten harder to build since I was a kid.” He tried to screw in what he thought was the right piece, only to get even more frustrated when it didn't fit. "I don't understand! This is the piece you're telling me to put in!" he yelled at the instructions.
Draco laughed, a light musical tone that hung in the air for seconds after he was done. Harry turned his head, looking at Draco. His eyes were shimmering with amusement and he had a light smile on his face. The light of the sunrise hit him just right, illuminating the strands of his hair and casting shadows on his face. They made eye contact, and the tension in the room grew. Draco’s smile slowly slipped away and his eyes flickered down to Harry’s lips. Driven by instinct, Harry leaned forward and captured Draco’s lips with his own.
He didn’t move for a second, and Harry started to draw back, terrified that he had ruined everything. But just as he started to pull away, Draco’s hand settled on his cheek, reassuring him that it was okay. He kissed back gently, just a light press of lips against his before pulling away and resting his forehead against Harry’s.
“That was nice,” Draco murmured, eyes still closed.
“Mmm,” Harry hummed in agreement, threading a hand through Draco’s silky hair. “Wanna do it again?”
“Yeah,” Draco breathed, leaning forward to connect their lips again. They kissed gently for a few minutes, only drawing apart when Harry’s stomach growled, thoroughly destroying the atmosphere. Draco chuckled, standing up. “Do you want to get breakfast with me?” He offered a hand to Harry to help him up.
“Yeah,” Harry smiled, taking the hand and hauling himself up. “I’d love too.”