another drarry one-shot

The Space Between

They were just roommates.

That was the arrangement. That was the word they told people when they signed the lease on the flat overlooking the quiet side of Diagon Alley. Roommates.

Never mind the way Harry always made extra tea in the morning because he knew Draco liked two sugars and only one drop of milk.

Never mind the way Draco left the lights on when Harry worked late, a blanket folded neatly on the couch.

Never mind the way they never dated anyone else.

Just roommates.

The nightmare came like a tidal wave.

It didn't matter that the war was over. That Voldemort was gone. That life was quieter now, softer, duller in the best kind of way.

Sometimes the echoes came back screaming.

Harry woke up choking on a scream, soaked in sweat, his hands curled into fists against his chest like he could hold his heart in place.

It was three in the morning.

The flat was silent.

He sat up, blinking into the dark, gasping.

He didn't think. He didn't light his wand. He just moved.

Barefoot and half-asleep, he padded down the hall and opened the door to Draco's room without knocking.

Draco stirred instantly. "Harry?"

Harry's silhouette hovered in the doorway, small and tense and wordless.

Draco sat up. "What happened?"

"I..." Harry swallowed. "Can I—?"

Draco didn't ask. He just pulled the blanket back.

Harry crawled in.

The bed was warm. Draco's sheets smelled like bergamot and whatever fancy laundry soap he used. It was still. Safe.

They lay in silence for a long moment.

"I'm sorry," Harry whispered.

"Don't be."

"I just... I didn't want to be alone."

"You aren't."

Harry closed his eyes. His breathing slowed. He felt Draco's fingers, hesitant at first, then firmer, pressing lightly into his back. A grounding touch.

Draco didn't say much. But then again, he rarely needed to.

He was just there.

And that was more than enough.

When Harry woke again, it was morning. Pale light spilled in through the window, casting soft shadows across Draco's sheets.

Draco was still asleep beside him, one arm curled around Harry's waist, face pressed into his shoulder.

Harry didn't move.

He stared at the ceiling, heart oddly calm. Stillness wrapped around them like a second blanket.

Then Draco stirred, blinked blearily at him, and said, voice rough with sleep, "Did you stay?"

"Yeah."

"...Good."

Harry looked over. "You don't mind?"

Draco's fingers tightened slightly against his side. "Shut up, Potter."

Harry smiled.

And then, because there was no war anymore, no rules, and nothing stopping him—he reached over, brushed a strand of pale hair off Draco's forehead, and whispered, "Thank you."

Draco flushed.

But he didn't pull away.

Instead, he tilted his head up, gaze locked on Harry's mouth, and said, "You could kiss me, you know."

Harry's breath caught.

He wanted to, he really wanted to...

So, He did.

Slowly, softly, like testing the waters of something that had always been waiting under the surface.

When they broke apart, Draco's eyes fluttered open.

"Still just roommates?" he asked.

Harry smiled into his hair. "Eh...Not anymore."

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words: 519