𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆

The Move

Maybe Malfoy had had a point when he said Harry couldn’t handle him.

The rest of the week had gone well; Malfoy and Ron had come to a grudging truce, not shaking hands but looking like the idea wasn’t quite as revolting as it had been two weeks ago. They agreed to hold a civil silence, only speaking to one another when it was called for, but not throwing around glares and snarls quite as liberally either. It was a start, and Harry wasn’t going to push his luck with either of them, not when things were going so well.

Malfoy had agreed to move in with him. After Harry’s awkward outburst, which had been unexpected but to the point, Draco had seemed to debate it, finally flashing Harry a tentative smile that Harry took to mean yes. It was soon, they both knew it was soon, and Malfoy was by far the more rational of the two them, so he had the most reservations. Harry didn’t care. He wanted Draco in his space all the time, and he was unconcerned with how rational or otherwise it might be.

They had made love that night in Harry’s bed; it had been slow and gentle, and Draco had seemed tentative, like he was standing on some emotional precipice. His kisses held none of their normal teases, no sneering awareness of how sexy or appealing he was, and every time he had moved to kiss or touch Harry, he had looked up at him with clear grey eyes, each time seeking something. Harry wasn’t sure what it was that Draco was looking for, so he just kept meeting Draco’s gaze, trying to grasp the notion that they could be like this every night, that he would have Draco every day. When Draco had seemed satisfied with whatever expression Harry had made, he would lean forward to nip at Harry’s throat or wrap his tongue around Harry’s cock or guide Harry inside him.

Draco had Harry flat on his back, he was riding him with careful slowness, when he leaned forward, lips almost brushing Harry’s.

“How does it feel?” Draco whispered quietly.

Harry reached a hand up, fingers gentle in Draco’s hair, palm flat against his jaw, and told the truth.

“You feel like home.”

It must have been the right response, because Draco had arched back with a soft moan, taking Harry further inside him, driving them forward.

That had been at night. Now it was the day, the Saturday, that Draco was moving in. There had been an awkward moment where Harry had offered to help deliver things from the Manor and Draco had violently rejected, but Harry wasn’t sure if Draco was ready to explain that. He was also unsure of whether or not he even wanted to know.

And now Harry felt that maybe Draco was more than he could handle, at least in terms of garment acquisition.

He was certainly having a difficult time wrapping his mind around the sheer volume of belongings that came attached to having a Malfoy move in with you. There were the clothes, which were numerous and expensive, shoes of various brands and labels, all of which looked pretty much the same to Harry but which Malfoy vehemently insisted were different. He also looked at Harry like he was on the absolute brink of insanity when Harry implied that maybe Draco could live with only five pairs of black leather shoes.

“Five!?” Draco had yelped, looking over his neatly arranged landscape of footwear, which spanned from Harry’s closet until off in the middle horizon, “You cannot expect me to survive with less than ten. Five. How would I part with them? How could I choose?” He had walked away muttering about the scarcities of a Potter’s existence and left Harry to ponder if he really wanted a boyfriend that came with so many accessories.

But the shoes were nothing compared to the toiletries.

Harry had walked into his bathroom, that calm, familiar place, to find it completely ransacked and the grand majority of his soaps and shampoos replaced with high priced bottles. He stood, looking into his medicine cabinet which had formerly housed toothpaste and actual medicine, because that was what a medicine cabinet was made for, but which now boasted scented lotions aplenty, and felt a distinct sinking feeling. This was Malfoy, he had known this was Malfoy, but he had been unaware of exactly how….un-Potter Malfoy actually was.