Stuck With You / drarry

A Kick-Off

Harry was lying in the guest room bed. It wasn't hot inside, but his body felt like it was on fire. He had thrown the puffy blanket to the side, and was now just lying there, in his pants, staring at the ceiling. It was roughly midnight, and the only sound outside were the crickets, whose concerto could be heard incredibly loudly. While the day was brighter in Italy than in England, the night was darker, too. Without streetlights you couldn't see further than your own nose. When Harry turned his head to peer out the window to the side of the square, he only saw darkness.

Harry was worked up. Too agitated to sleep, too nervous to do anything about it. After him and Malfoy had returned to the house, the awkwardness that had briefly been broken at the fountain had made a grand return. When Malfoy had kissed him, Harry had been sure they'd spend the night together; the desperation of his touch was evident, he had missed Harry, too. But alas, once they were standing in front of the guest room, at the foot of the stairs leading to Malfoy's bedroom, neither of them had known what to say or do.

Harry had thought that it wasn't his place as Malfoy's guest to just invade his bedroom: if he wanted him there, he could just ask. Harry would have been very pleased to say yes. But when the moment came, they were both just standing there, staring just past the other. Harry couldn't think of one thing to say that could imply that he would very much like to join Malfoy upstairs, and after a few seconds too many, he muttered something like Well, good night, and quickly stumbled into the guest room. After closing the door behind him, he wanted to bang his head against it. This had happened too many times already. He knew that only when one of them made it painfully clear that something was happening, was it going to happen.

Now Harry turned to his side and stared at the wall. Was it going to be like this the whole time? Excruciatingly polite and distant, only sharing a moment or two, before Harry had to leave. This wasn't how he had imagined the trip to go. He had pretty much assumed that the scales were going to be tipped on one side or the other when they first saw each other. But there he was, still not sure where he was standing with Malfoy. The man had taken him on a date, and wrapped him in one of the most intense snogs Harry had ever experienced, and then let him slip away, just like that. Harry had tried to sleep, figure it out in the morning, but his heart was racing, and his limbs felt burning hot.

He was wondering if Malfoy was awake upstairs, or sound asleep. Was he as utterly distressed by the situation as Harry, or just seeing where the situation took them. Eventually, he would have to go to work, and Harry would be left alone to explore the streets of Italy, or to sit at his place, waiting for Malfoy to return, like a house elf awaiting his master. It was a horrible image Harry wished he hadn't had. He realized that anything ever happened between them, when one of them took a leap of faith. Technically, it was Malfoy's turn, since Harry had already showed up at his doorstep in another country, but fuck it, Harry was impatient. He was nervous, but brave enough to sit up in his bed, throw his legs on the ground, and stand up. He reached for his wand, and did a very thorough cleaning charm on himself, just in case.

Slowly and quietly, he opened the guest room door, and peered outside. His heart was pounding, was he being mad again? If he was, Malfoy would surely let him know, and the problem would, in any case, be solved. Now he carefully stepped outside on the cold red tiles, motions silent. The living room looked different in the dark, the only light coming from the outdoor lights on the outer wall. Harry navigated to the stairs, almost shaking. What if Malfoy was asleep? He couldn't wake him, Harry thought as he took a few careful steps upwards. If he was asleep, he thought, then he'd reconsider in the morning. But right now, Harry couldn't think about much else than taking the few steps towards the bedroom of the man he so desperately wanted to be around.

Harry reached the small platform that folded the stairs in the other direction, and he almost had a heart attack when he saw a dark figure nearly bump into him. Harry gasped silently, he was too agitated to not be startled by anything unexpected. In the scarce light of the night, Harry saw Malfoy's hair glow a bit in the dark. For a second, Harry was ashamed that he'd gotten caught trying to sneak into Malfoy's bed, that is, until the man spoke.