Nowhere Else to Go

Chapter 9

Harry laid down in his bed, another sleepless night creeping up on him. He found himself drowning in thoughts of Draco Malfoy. He could still picture his body perfectly. Both from today as well as from having fucked him after quite a long night of drinking. He had notably changed since then. He seemed to have lost a bit of weight, which Harry realized was because Draco couldn't afford food in the past few weeks. The boy has also gained several scars since he last saw Draco shirtless.

Some, he recognized. There were a few that had been there since that night, and hadn't faded any further. The others all seemed fairly recent, and those were sure to scar. Draco looked like he'd been through hell and back, and he needed a damn break whether he'd admit it or not. Harry could see it, even if Draco couldn't.

He still couldn't figure out why Draco had shoved him away like that when he was cleaning up his face. He didn't think he'd done anything wrong. He honestly couldn't place it, but maybe Draco was just a bit defensive. Whatever the case, it wasn't worth dwelling on.

He continued to think, his whirring thoughts refusing to give him a moment of silence. He ached for sleep but it was far out of reach. He sat up in his bed and rubbed his eyes, letting out a soft sigh. He wondered if Draco was awake.

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He slipped out of bed and walked down to the kitchen. If he wasn't going to sleep, he might as well make a productive night out of it. He did of course check on Draco as he made his way downstairs, and saw him fast asleep in a tranquil bliss. He sat at the counter with his computer and a cup of tea, determined to finish his novel.

Time passed steadily by, word after word, chapter after chapter. Harry picked up his computer sometime around four in the morning and sat on the couch, continuing to write. Dark circles grew under his eyes and he began nodding off. Before he knew it, he had fallen asleep on the couch, letting the computer slip to the carpeted floor with a gentle tumble.

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Draco woke at around nine in the morning. He'd gotten some decent sleep, which was desperately needed. He walked down to the kitchen to get himself a bit of food for breakfast, but was startled to see Harry passed out on the couch. He walked over and saw his fallen computer and crooked glasses. He let out a soft sigh. Harry did look quite peaceful. Draco gently removed the glasses from Harry's face and set them down. He picked up the computer on the ground and set it on the small coffee table, and lifted a blanket up from the foot of the couch. He silently laid it over Harry, sure to keep him warm while he slept.

He figured Harry had spent the night writing. He wouldn't put it past him. And he of course wasn't just being kind for the hell of it; he was only trying to reciprocate Harry's hospitality towards him. He let Harry continue to sleep while he went to the kitchen and got himself a bowl of cereal.

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Harry woke at around eleven thirty that morning. He rubbed his eyes and tugged the blanket around himself a little more to keep warm. He hadn't remembered picking it up, but it was nice. Soft, comfortable, warm, everything he needed.

He would have fallen back asleep if he hadn't heard a thud from the bathroom across the hall. He furrowed his brows and tossed the blanket off  and grabbed his glasses, walking over to find out what the hell Draco was doing. He knocked on the door "Malfoy? Everything alright in there?" He asked, with a curious smile. There was no response.

Harry twisted the doorknob and pushed it open, only to find Draco struggling to rebandage his arm again. A roll of new bandages laid on the floor, probably what the noise was from, and the old ones were thrown in the trash. Meanwhile, Draco looked like a deer caught in the headlights. He was clearly embarrassed but Harry didn't want him to feel that way. He picked up the bandages and started on Draco's arm, and at the very least, Draco wasn't trying to resist so much this time.

He finished bandaging Draco's arm and moved on to his torso, working carefully and efficiently, sure to patch him up well. He's done this plenty of times for himself, it was practically second nature to him. He picked up a small cloth and began cleaning up Draco's face a little. His superficial wounds were making fast progress, but the bruises looked like they'd be sticking around for a while.

Once he had finished, he set the cloth down and looked at Draco, who was seemingly too distracted to be resisting Harry's help.

Harry gently stroked his cheek, finding Draco just absolutely gorgeous despite all the scars bruises and marks. He quickly let go when he saw Draco's fire return to his gaze, and he stepped back before he could receive a bitch slap from an angry Malfoy who wasn't used to being touched. He smirked a little "You're healing up just fine, have you eaten yet?" He asked, walking out of the room and to the kitchen to make himself a very late breakfast.

"Of course I've eaten you dipshit. It's almost fucking noon! You slept in for hours yet you still look sleep deprived. The hell were you even doing last night??" He crossed his arms and leaned back against the counter, watching Harry pull together some food for himself.

Harry scoffed and shook his head "I'm sorry Malfoy but I don't recall being obliged to answer you. You are in MY home after all. Show some respect would you?" He joked, giving Draco a small smirk. He did see a twinge of pain in Draco's expression when he mentioned that Draco was living under his roof. Maybe it was a bit too soon for that reminder.

"Shut up Potter" Draco replied, with not much else to say. No quippy remark or comeback. Harry continued slicing some fruit and watched Draco walk back up the stairs, probably to get some extra rest or something. The boy still did look awfully thin though. Maybe he'd offer him a bit more food.

Harry was so lost in thought, gazing at the stairs where Draco last was, he had accidentally nicked his finger with the knife. He cursed under his breath and turned to run it under cold water.