Kik Me \\ Drarry Modern Day Muggle AU

I fell asleep in your bed and now I'm gayer than usual

    A/N: Hey there! This might be a bit short, sorrrryyyyyyyy~ ~~Sail

Harry's eyes fluttered open. He looked around. Where the hell is--Oh. He's at Draco's. He felt a slight bit of weight on his shoulder.

         He shuffled a bit, and his head was now on Draco's chest again. Draco's breathing was even and slow, Harry was almost lulled to sleep by it. His eyes shut slowly, and he felt Draco begin to rub circles on his shoulder blades. Harry let out a sleepy breathe.

"Morning," Draco said. He didn't sound tired. He must've woken up earlier.

Harry made some sort of noise that could've been 'rrgh' or 'mngg'. Draco chuckled very lightly.

"Wanna get breakfast or coffee or something?"

Harry made another illegible noise. "That a yes?" Draco questioned.

Harry nodded against Draco's shirt. "Well then," Draco replied, "you have to get up."

          Harry groaned and rolled over off Draco's chest. He looked up at Draco, who was grabbing Harry's glasses. He slid them on Harry's face and began to get up. Harry sat up and adjusted his glasses. He slipped off the bed and looked at Draco, who was standing in a closet, which was across from the 'snake room' as Harry was going to call it.
         Draco turned and threw a pair of black jeans that would've been a bit big on him at Harry. They would fit Harry rather well. They'd fit like skinny jeans would. Harry thanked Draco and went to Draco's bathroom, which was a little way down the hall. He went in and changed his pants. He padded out of the bathroom and went back into Draco's room to get his shoes. Draco was shirtless and looking in his closet. Harry felt his eyes widen and his cheeks heat up. His back was bony and knobby, with pasty skin. It wasn't an ugly pasty, no, it was a lovely white. A glowing white. If the sunlight would hit his skin, it would glow and reflect. It was fucking beautiful.
            Much to Harry's dismay, Draco reached for a dark green shirt. Harry quickly tore his eyes away, his face still burning. He grabbed his red converse and stood, awkwardly adjusting his red shirt and his glasses. He sat on the bed and slipped on his shoes. It took everything he had not to look at Draco again, to not glance. He tied his shoelaces as quickly as he could. What the fuck was he doing? Just because they slept in the same bed doesn't mean he can just stare at him. Just forget last night ever happened. It's that simple.
          

It wasn't that simple.

          They went out to a different cafe than the one they met in to get breakfast. Draco ordered them two blueberry muffins and got them both coffee. Harry felt inclined to pay, but Draco had insisted because, 'Guests don't pay for food, Harry.' They left, taking their food to-go, and walked to a park. Fall was everywhere. Everything was a warm red-orange. The leaves were all over the ground, a bright mix of warm reds, oranges, and bright yellows. Fall was Harry's favorite season, it was always so warm and cozy. It made Harry feel warm and cozy, too.
           Once they sat on a green park bench, Harry couldn't help but stare. Draco's slightly bony, pale fingers tore parts of his muffin off and brought them up to his mouth. Harry looked at his lips. They were even prettier than the first time he saw them, it seemed. They weren't chapped or windblown, in fact, they were a little shiny. His lips were a bright pale pink, and they looked so...kissable. Dammit, Harry stop that. He tore his eyes away and began to eat his muffin.

Nowhere near that simple.

          They walked back to Draco's apartment (they hadn't brought the car, it wasn't that far), and Harry felt the urge to hold Draco's hand. He had to resist it, as he didn't want to seem weird. He wanted to seem like he had his shit together, but, honestly, he didn't. Did he ever?
          After a few minutes of walking, Harry felt Draco's hand brush against his and it sent shivers down his spine. What the fuck. Draco then reached for his hand, threading his fingers through Harry's. Harry closed his fingers, their hands now being held, their fingers laced together. Harry, oddly, felt a few red flags go off. What are you doing? We were forgetting, and doing it well! He was just overthinking. We shouldn't be getting attached to him, this won't end well. It never does. Just overthinking.
           Apparently, his panic was showing through, because Draco gave him a fretful look and squeezed his hand reassuringly. Harry looked over at his soft expression and smiled thankfully.

Maybe he didn't need to. Did he?