Drarry Oneshots

Burnt Toast

Posted: December 17, 2020 
AO3 Rating: Explicit
[Yeah...just skip this one too, if you don't like smut. It's brief, but you can't really skip it.]

Harry reached out and patted the bed beside him. The sheets were cold.

"Dray?"

He snapped his fingers and a Tempus Charm flashed the time— Red numbers and letters in the dark: 2:37 AM.

Harry rolled out of bed and wandlessly summoned his glasses, putting them on and padding out into the hallway and down the stairs, dodging piles of moving boxes as he went.

"Draco?"

He was seated at the kitchen table, slumped over a textbook, his face squished against the page. Harry grinned. He approached him and gently rubbed his back, waking him up slowly. "Dray?"

"Hm?"

"Come to bed, love."

"Wha...oh. I fell asleep. What time is it?"

"Nearly three. Come on. You can study more tomorrow. Let's get you to bed."

"Mhm. Too sleepy to move."

"Come on, you'll be more comfortable in our bed." He tugged on Draco's arm, and he reluctantly stood, immediately slumping against Harry's shoulder.

"You're warm."

Harry chuckled, unbuttoning Draco's shirt for him and tossing it over the back of his chair. Draco's trousers joined it a moment later, their owner still leaning heavily against Harry for support.

"Carry me," he whined.

Harry rolled his eyes and picked him up, carrying him the short distance to the bedroom, where he helped him under the sheets and crawled in after him.

Draco cuddled up against him, nuzzling his face against Harry's chest. "Mm. So warm. 'S nice. Thanks, love."

Harry wrapped his arms around him and kissed his forehead, already drifting off again himself.

•••••

Draco woke up to bright sunlight shafting through the curtains and Harry breathing deeply beside him.

Harry. Sleeping on his back. One arm tucked behind his head, the other thrown out to the side, fingers dangling off the edge of the mattress. He'd kicked the sheet down off of him, overheated in the sweltering summer air, leaving him exposed but for his Slytherin-green boxers. They suit him—match his eyes, Draco thought with a smile.

Harry. Who came home late last night, covered in sweat and grime after dueling and arresting the dark wizard he'd been after for weeks. He'd had no energy for anything but a quick shower and to fall into bed.

Normally he'd have joined him, both in the shower and in bed, but Draco had been caught up preparing for his Potions Mastery Examinations next week. He vaguely remembers tilting his face up for a kiss, running his fingers over the stubble on Harry's chin, telling him he'd come to bed soon.

He remembers carrying on studying even as his eyelids grew heavy, until... Harry came to fetch him and helped get him to bed.

Draco slowly climbed out of the bed, careful not to wake his sleeping boyfriend, and made his way into the kitchen. The sight of his discarded clothes and potions texts littering the table made him smile.

Knowing Harry, he'd missed dinner and would wake up ravenous. Draco wasn't much of a cook, but surely he could manage eggs, bacon, and a bit of toast?