Knots In Our Heartstrings [Dramione]

The No

Back home, Draco kicked off his shoes at the door and tucked them neatly into their space on the shoe rack.

The sun was almost fully set, with the last few glimmers of light barely seeping through the large windows.

His footsteps echoed softly on the wooden floors as he made his way over to the kitchen. The bottle of wine he picked up on the way back from work clinked as he placed it down on the counter.

Harry would be arriving home in just less than an hour's time, which was perfect. Dinner was already prepared, the fish just needed to be cooked and the pasta boiled, both things he planned to do after Harry arrived anyway. So Draco took the time to shower instead, deciding that freshening up wouldn't hurt.

After a hot shower, Draco slipped into a clean shirt and a fresh pair of grey trousers. He dried his hair, and applied a dash of the cologne Harry had got him last Christmas. It wasn't too overpowering, but had a subtle amber scent to it.

As if on cue, there was a quick knock at the door before the lock whirled.

"Hello, hello," Harry called playfully. "I don't smell food so I'm assuming you've got something else planned for supper."

With a final glance at the mirror, Draco undid the top button on his shirt, and hurried out into the kitchen.

"Dinner only takes a few minutes to cook, I figured you'd prefer it fresh."

Harry was already opening up the bottle of wine, with two glasses ready.

They met eyes from across the room with a smirk.

"Shame, can't say I wasn't disappointed by the idea of you for starters, mains, and dessert."

Draco sighed, used to Harry's fun-over-food attitude. "Why don't you tell me about your day while I cook?"

"Why should I? It was boring," Harry drawled, taking the first sip of his wine. "The highlight of my day was you showing up with what I can only hope was a taster for what I'm in for tonight."

Harry winked, and Draco felt the blood rush to his face.

"Well... The taster was more of your idea, but I'm not arguing. Anyway, first, dinner. Seeing as you didn't eat your lunch."

"You tease," Harry scoffed. "Making me wait like this is hardly fair."

"Tough luck, Potter. I'm hungry, so wait you shall. Now, do you want food or not?"

With a sigh, Harry slumped in line behind Draco as he fetched two tin-foil-covered plates from the fridge. His arms draped lazily around his waist. His head nestled in the crook of his neck between sips of wine. His feet nestled between Draco's as they moved about the kitchen as one.

"I suppose I'll settle for food first," Harry hummed, so close that Draco could feel the hollow echo of Harry's breath in his core.

This. Moments like this were why he carried that little blue box around as if his life depended on it.

"Settle?" Draco breathed. The gentle weight of Harry's hands on his chest her intoxicating. "No dessert for you."

"Okay, okay, dinner sounds lovely." Harry drawled. One hand slid up the side of Draco's throat, gently brushing his jaw to the side to make way for one chaste kiss. "Need a hand?"

"I need you to let go so I can actually cook." The words escaped Draco in a shallow exhale. "If you want to help you can set the table."

"Nah," Harry said, finally stepping back ever so slightly, before sliding his way around to the other side of the kitchen counter where two stools stood. He perched himself on one of them, taking a deep swig of his wine. "I'll just sit here and admire your chef skills."