Beautiful World ~ 𝑫𝑹𝑨𝑹𝑹𝒀

Chapter 29

It was like losing his mind. Like something had blown up in his mind and he was waiting for all the pieces to fall back down again and they were taking their sweet time.

Draco was holding him, stroking his hair and talking to him, his voice soft and soothing, and warm with amusement. It would take too much effort for Harry to concentrate on what exactly he was saying, so Harry just let Draco's voice wash over him as he struggled to catch his breath.

Finally, though it took more effort than anything Harry could remember, he tilted his head and pressed his lips to Draco's. Then, he drew back and blinked.

"You're crying," he whispered shakily.

"I'm not."

"I can taste it."

"It's the sea salt." Draco rubbed the back of his hand over his face and Harry felt his stomach drop a little bit. He was crying, no matter how Draco tried to deny it. He looked terrified, and Harry wondered tenderly how stupid Draco thought he was.

Feverish promises of thousands of dark spells? Please. But he'd play along, because he wasn't scared anymore. After all, he'd promised that he wouldn't be scared, wouldn't be angry, if only Draco came for him. And Draco had.

Draco, however, looked terrified, and Harry took his face in his hands and kissed him gently. His body felt lazy, slow, and very heavy, and he stretched a bit, his eyes fluttering. "Mmm," he breathed, kissing Draco again. Then he lowered his head on Draco's shoulder. "Everything's gonna be alright."

Though he didn't say anything, Draco's chest shuddered a bit, and Harry sighed, slipping his hand into Draco's. "Don't be scared," he murmured, a bit incoherent and not quite recovered from the strange almost painful (though in a hot, sweet sort of way) sensation of coming in Draco's mouth.

"I'm not scared."

"Liar."

"Harry, I lied, there aren't any -"

Harry kissed him firmly, muffling the words with his lips. He did not want to deal with that, he did not want to hear it. "C'mon," he said suddenly, pulling away.

"Where?"

"Shower. We're covered in salt."

"Shower," Draco repeated, his tone rather dull.

"Of course."

"You go first then. I'm sorta tired..."

Harry grinned, rolling his eyes, and tugging his hands. "Together."

"Excuse me?"

"'Malfoys do not shower with others'," Harry recited, his grin becoming even more impish. He tugged on Draco's hand.

It didn't take much convincing, really, and Harry was glad. He needed to distract Draco somehow, and it seemed only fair that he distract the other boy in nearly the same way he had been distracted moments before.

It was certainly the longest shower he'd ever had, though it seemed to be over too fast, with more splashing and giggling than any other he remembered. It was also the most erotic shower he'd ever taken, with the streaming water, the whimpering moans, the way Draco whispered his name, barely heard over the pounding water. It was strange, and very dreamlike, the details burned into his memory, every moan and whisper and kiss, and afterwards, when they lay together tangled up on the bed and still damp from the shower, Harry was so exhausted that he fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

***

Harry was sleeping. Draco studied his face carefully in the moonlight spilling through the window, and then slipped from the bed. His clothes were scattered all over the floor and he dressed silently before leaving the room.