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Draco’s internal alarm clock woke him up at 6AM, even though Harry had told him the night before that he wanted a lazy Sunday morning. His father believed that one of the most important qualities of a Malfoy was discipline, and made it evident through his 5AM morning routines all throughout childhood. Although, he supposed he was more relaxed now, having woken up an hour later than he used to.
The few far and in between times when Harry woke up before Draco only happened when Draco was truly, utterly exhausted. Harry cherished those moments dearly, while Draco feigned ignorance of their existence entirely. Usually, Draco was the one to wake up, kiss Harry on the forehead, and get ready for work. Harry would meander into the kitchen a bit after, oftentimes wrapping his arms around Draco eating breakfast while he fondly admonished Harry for wrinkling his clothes.
But now, it was Sunday. Nowhere to be, no owls calling for his attention and diverting it away from Harry. Sometimes he wondered how lucky he was that he got to wake up next to the literal Chosen One. Their relationship hadn’t been an easy one, of course, but he was proud that they had made it this far by always choosing each other no matter the circumstances.
The sheets rustled as Harry rolled around to face him, almost as if he was subconsciously getting closer to Draco. One of them (probably Harry) had left the top blinds open and the morning sunlight was beginning to stream in through the window. Draco watched as his lover’s chest slowly moved up and down. Harry was sleeping in a Chudley Cannons shirt, courtesy of Ron, and yet Draco thought that somehow the ugly orange color didn’t look too bad on Harry.
Sunlight eventually made its way to Harry’s face, starting with his nose which twitched almost as if he could feel the sunlight. It was in fact quite cute according to Draco, and he made a mental note to bring that up in conversation just to see Harry flustered. As the long ribbons of sunlight began to sweep over his cheeks, and then his eyes, Draco still couldn’t bring himself to draw the blinds. Even at the expense of Harry waking up, he couldn’t help but stare at the long, dark lashes that adorned his gorgeous eyes. Draco’s favorite color was green, which was obvious considering his love of all things Slytherin, but his favorite shade was never one that adorned the banners. It was the shade of Harry’s eyes, as stupid as it sounded. Now this was one little tidbit he’d never let on.
As much as one of his favorite pastimes was teasing Harry when they were out just to see his cheeks turn red, he couldn’t help but admire the gorgeous, honey glazed coffee color that they were now. He would never get tired of seeing Harry glisten in the sunlight. Oftentimes, Harry told him that HE glittered in sunlight, but Draco knew the truth. He was always a little bit astounded by the fact that someone could look so rugged and yet so beautiful at the same time. That was Harry Potter for you. Scarred, and made whole again. Unkempt and yet sharply observant (at least when it came to the field. Social cues were a different issue altogether).
It was truly in the moments like these, where Draco’s heart beat painfully in his chest, that he was most grateful for Harry being the ray of sunshine in his life. He grounded Draco from letting his anxieties carry him off. He was always the first to assure Draco that he wanted him, that he chose him, that he loved him. He would never back down to protect Draco, no matter how innocent and calm he looked right now, sleeping as if he didn’t have a care in the world. There used to be bad nights when he would wake up, shaking, but never screaming, after seeing someone he loved be tortured in his nightmares. Years of therapy and healthy relationships later, he was back to being peaceful and Draco couldn’t be happier.
Slowly, he leaned in to press his mouth to the edge of Harry’s scar. Seeing him lying there looking like a dream, it was somewhat of a miracle that he wasn’t already wrapped up in Draco’s arms. But it had been a stressful week, evident in the faint whisper of stubble across Harry’s face. He would never mention it to anyone, but Draco loved kissing Harry when he was just that tiny bit more unkempt. It made him feel more human, more alive. He would always cast a quick glamour before leaving work on the days they kissed (made love) early in the morning, but he would never heal the slight burn. He liked feeling the marks made on him, reminding him that he was wanted.
A few strands of silvery blond hair which had escaped his ponytail caressed Harry’s face, and as Draco leaned in to plant another kiss on his boyfriend he found himself staring into a pair of blindingly green eyes.
“Good morning, love”, said Harry, voice still gruff with sleep. “If you wanted a kiss, all you had to do was ask me”
He feigned a massive yawn, while making a big deal out of putting his glasses on and charming his mouth to be fresh before puckering up, batting his lashes at Draco.
He promptly received a pillow to the face from his unimpressed lover.
“Oh, so that’s how it’s going to be? Give me everything you’ve got, Malfoy”, teased Harry.
Draco lunged at him, resulting in a tussle that had both of them wrapped up in bedsheets in just a few seconds. Eventually, Draco had managed to climb on top of Harry and pinned his hands above his head. Of course, they both knew that Harry was letting him win but Draco pressed on.
“Well, Potter, looks like the great Chosen One isn’t so great after all”, panted Draco. “I won. It’s in your best interest to give up now.”
Harry hummed thoughtfully. “But Draco, what makes you think this isn’t exactly where I want to be?” he slyly asked.
In the moments of shock that followed, Draco merely sputtered a few insults, mostly punctuated by the word ‘Potter’. Harry took this opportunity to gently gather him in his arms, and claim his well-earned kiss.
“Since you’re so enthusiastically awake, Potter, we might as well go run some errands. I have a book I have to pick up from Hermione’s and you know we’re running dangerously low on garam masala. Unless you want to make some, in which case I don’t mind but I think the fumes might bother me a little. What do you think? Harry? HARRY!”
At this point, Harry had buried his face in Draco’s chest and gave a loud, rumbling groan. Spurring Draco into a fit of giggles, he said “and to think, all I wanted was a lazy Sunday.”
~fin~