Drarry AI Oneshots

A Closet Full of Emotions

It was supposed to be a routine Ministry gala. Just another boring, stuffy event where Harry Potter showed up, shook a few hands, nodded at politicians he didn't care about, and escaped as quickly as possible. Unfortunately, his plan went sideways when Draco Malfoy strolled in looking unfairly good in sleek, dark robes.

Harry tried not to look. He really did. But it was impossible to ignore Draco when he was standing across the room, sipping wine like he owned the place, his pale blond hair catching the light just right. Worse, every time Harry stole a glance, Draco smirked like he knew exactly what he was doing to Harry.

And that was how it happened: Harry, distracted and grumpy, tried to leave early-only to bump straight into Draco in a hallway.

"Well, well," Draco drawled, his smirk widening as Harry scowled. "Running off so soon, Potter?"

"I could ask you the same thing," Harry shot back.

Draco leaned casually against the wall, crossing his arms. "Tired of being a hero?"

Harry opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, the heavy door to a nearby storage closet swung open as a house-elf carrying a tray of champagne bottles waddled out. Harry stumbled, and somehow, in the chaos, Draco grabbed his arm-and the next thing they knew, both of them were unceremoniously shoved into the closet.

The door slammed shut behind them with an ominous click.

Harry fumbled for the handle, but it wouldn't budge. "Brilliant," he muttered, rattling it uselessly. "We're locked in."

"Perfect," Draco said dryly, the faint glow of his wand illuminating the cramped space. "This is exactly how I wanted to spend my evening-trapped in a broom closet with you."

"Oh, like I'm thrilled about it?" Harry huffed, crossing his arms to hide the fact that being this close to Draco was making his pulse race.

The space was impossibly small, forcing them to stand practically nose to nose. Harry could feel Draco's body heat, smell the faint scent of something expensive-like cinnamon and citrus-clinging to his robes. It was maddening.

For a moment, there was only the sound of their breathing, heavy in the quiet.

"You're fidgeting," Draco observed, his tone laced with amusement.

"I'm not fidgeting," Harry muttered, shifting uncomfortably.

"You are. What's the matter, Potter? Afraid to be alone with me?" Draco's smirk was audible.

Harry shot him a glare, though in the dim light it was more of a squint. "No. You're just irritating."

Draco chuckled softly, the sound vibrating in the tiny space between them. "You're as charming as ever."

Silence fell again, heavier this time. Harry could feel the tension building-like static electricity humming in the air. Every second spent in Draco's proximity made it harder to breathe, harder to think.

And then Draco whispered, "You know, you could just admit it."

Harry's heart stuttered in his chest. "Admit what?"

"That you like me." Draco's voice was low, his usual sarcasm giving way to something softer. Something vulnerable.

Harry blinked, his pulse hammering in his ears. "You're delusional."

"Am I?" Draco leaned in slightly, his breath warm against Harry's cheek. "Because if I'm wrong, why haven't you moved away?"

Harry's breath hitched, and suddenly it was impossible to ignore the truth that had been simmering between them for months-years, maybe. He hadn't moved away because he didn't want to.

Because, despite everything, being this close to Draco felt like the most natural thing in the world.

"Say it," Draco murmured, his voice barely more than a whisper.

Harry swallowed hard, his heart threatening to pound out of his chest. "You're insufferable."

Draco huffed a laugh, but before he could respond, Harry closed the distance between them, pressing his lips against Draco's in a kiss that felt like it had been waiting to happen forever.

For a moment, Draco went still-just long enough for Harry to panic. But then Draco kissed him back, and everything fell into place.

The kiss was slow and deliberate, Draco's hands curling into Harry's robes, pulling him closer. Harry sighed into it, his fingers tangling in Draco's hair, the world outside the tiny closet falling away until there was nothing but the two of them.

When they finally broke apart, both of them breathing hard, Draco's smirk returned-smug but softer this time, as if Harry's kiss had melted some of his sharp edges.

"Well," Draco murmured, "that took you long enough."

Harry chuckled, pressing his forehead against Draco's. "You're infuriating."

"And yet," Draco said, his voice laced with amusement, "here we are."

Harry grinned, feeling lighter than he had in years. "Yeah. Here we are."

They stayed like that for a moment, tangled together in the quiet, neither of them in any hurry to leave. Because, for the first time in a long time, being trapped didn't feel so bad at all.