Chapter 9

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Wax Without a Candle


Draco winced as his sore backside came into contact with the mattress. He bit his lip so as not to cry out and rolled onto his side so he could run his hand through the thick, unruly mane of his lover. He kept his movements soft but persistent, garnering nothing more than a slight noise of contentment. He lowered his mouth next to a tan ear and whispered softly, "Harry?" His hand momentarily stopping as his entire body tensed for what type of response he would receive. If Draco had pleased him tonight then perhaps it would be... loving.

Harry rolled over onto his back, which moved Draco's hand to his forehead before he brought it down, pausing at his lips, and rested it upon his chest. Draco didn't dare move his hand or smile too widely as Harry encouraged him to continue with a small, "Mmm..."

Draco wanted to run his hand over every inch of the muscular chest he could reach but sometimes that annoyed Harry and he didn't want to ruin the raven-haired man's good mood. He bit his lip, trying to think of how to phrase this so that he wouldn't seem to be supporting the idea. He exhaled and said tentatively, "Should I — Should I go?"

Harry turned his face to look at him and his eyes seemed so bright and knowing. He truly was beautiful and he seemed amused by Draco's hesitance as he said perspicaciously, "Do you want to go?"

Draco shook his head frantically for a moment before asserting firmly, "I want to stay with you."

Harry's face frowned in confusion and he seemed curious, "Then why would you ask?" Harry smoothed his hand over Draco's and Draco boldly upturned it so that Harry would lace their fingers together. He did and Draco's heart felt like it might burst.

Draco was trying to think of the best way to phrase his answer, but he really only wanted to concentrate on their linked hands. Harry almost never let them do this, only after a really good fuck would he allow Draco to get this close, or feel this loved. This was how Draco knew the marks, scratches, bruises, aches, and pains were all worth it. Because it got him, fleetingly, into Harry's heart. It didn't matter that he felt like an intruder because, for as long as Harry would allow it, he was complete.

He looked down at Harry's face blissfully when he realized he was still waiting for an answer. He smiled sheepishly and said slowly and submissively, "Sometimes... after, you ask me to leave. I just wanted to do what you'd want."

To Draco's surprise, Harry's confusion only seemed to deepen. He twisted his face and asked incredulously, "Why?"

Draco hunkered down against the bed but didn't try to withdraw his hand from Harry's. He wanted his hand there, he just wanted the rest of his body further away. He hadn't meant to upset Harry and said honestly in a squeaky voice, "I only want you to be happy."

Harry rolled over to him and his eyes were half-lidded with what looked like concern, but Draco figured it was a trick of the low moonlight, which was currently crawling across Harry's bedroom floor. Draco shook his head to himself, he had been fooled too many times before. Harry reached out his free hand and caressed the hair back from Draco's cheek before saying apprehensively, "What about you?"

Draco couldn't understand why Harry cared. What kind of test was this? He didn't know what the right answer was and he was scared all the caring gestures would disappear forever if he answered wrongly. He decided on the truth and hoped it was benign enough that it wouldn't provoke anything, "Making you happy, I don't know, it... well, it makes me happy."

Harry was silent for a long time and his face was impassive. Draco just knew something bad was coming and he scrunched his eyes tight to avoid having to see that serene face become a furious mask of hatred. He gasped when he felt soft lips pressed against his. Harry waited for Draco to fall into the rhythm of kissing him before slipping his tongue inside. It was a short tour before he withdrew and left a lingering kiss on Draco's forehead and whispered, "Go to sleep, Draco."

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