My little corner of the internet where I can share my little dreamscapes with anyone who is interested. Drarry and Wolfstar mostly, feel free to send prompts but please don’t repost to other sites without asking x
In their room with the radio playing gently in the background, Draco sits in the middle of their bed with his kneazle curled at his feet.
He has been staring at the messy scrawl of this letter for the past half hour even though he has long since remembered it’s contents.
Harry had sent it about a week and a half ago when he had finally found a safe place to write from. He has been away for three weeks and Draco has only received this one letter; slowly he is going mad.
Harry is on missions for weeks at a time and although Draco is now used to the set up, it’s still painfully stressful to wait around for word on his husbands safety. Sometimes he doesn’t receive any letters at all. Sometimes it just isn’t safe enough for Harry to write until the whole thing is over, and then he is coming home anyway and so there is no real need to send anything.
As for now, when Harry has already been away for three weeks, his letter is just a cause for pain. Draco has re-read it six times just today. He read it multiple times yesterday too, and the day before.
It is the only thing tying him to Harry at the moment and therefore the only thing to hold dear. He even took it to work this morning and pulled it out in his breaks just to read it once more.
It doesn’t even contain anything special, just a brief outline of the teams situation and a rough, definitely wrong estimation of when they would be finished.
Harry’s guesses are never correct, he has been an auror for six years and he has never once guessed right. They always finish much later than he says and yet Draco always counts on that day being right. He always pins his hopes on it and then it passes and anxiety settles with dread.
It’s only after the date passes that he thinks something might have gone wrong. Maybe this time Harry will be hurt. Maybe this time is unlucky.
Harry thought he would be home four days ago, hence Draco’s unhealthy obsession with the letter.
If he checks it often enough maybe his fears will go away, or a least lessen slightly.
It never works and now, at eleven o’clock, when he should be getting ready for bed he is biting his nails and resisting the urge to pace. Fi, their kneazle, sensing his nerves hops up from the end of the bed and plops herself down on his lap instead, butting her head against his arm for attention.
He is forced to put the letter aside and pet her instead. Her soft white fur slipping through his fingers rhythmically. As she probably intended, he does begin to relax and after a while he is once again calm enough to slide under the duvet and settle for the night. Fi follows him and perches herself on the pillow beside his head. She looks at him for a few elongated seconds as if trying to make sure he is alright before she too settles down.
They both close their eyes to sleep.
Hours later he wakes to sound of the front door closing. He’s immediately on high alert thinking through the prospect of someone having broken in. He doesn’t move from the bed, he just sits up and listens for now, fishing loosely for his wand on the nightstand.
There’s a soft groan that drops into a heavy sigh and then the creaky stair gives off a squeak as the person puts their weight on it. But they don’t move other than that.
After a few minutes of waiting for them to do something Draco realises it isn’t an intruder at all. They didn’t break in, they unlocked he door, the alarms didn’t go off so it’s someone tied into the wards.
Harry.
He is out of bed in seconds, tearing across the hall landing like a child on Christmas morning.
He halts at the top of the stairs, looking down into the shadows to see a figure slumped against the wall. His heart warming instantly at the sight as he makes his way down.
Stopping to sit on the step behind him he sets his knees around Harry’s sides and leans down against his back looping his arms around his neck loosely and pressing his face to his hair, greasy from being away for so long.
They don’t speak a word. Harry just takes Draco’s hand and presses a kiss to his palm then seals it by folding their hands together and linking their fingers.
Who knows how long they sit there, holding hands and leaning against one another but eventually Harry’s head falls back slightly into Draco’s shoulder with a soft thump and a drowsy sigh.
It wouldn’t do for him to fall asleep here so whilst brushing a light kiss to his forehead, Draco stands and begins to gently pull him up.
He protests lightly, a soft groan rumbling up from his chest but he follows nonetheless and trudges up the stairs behind Draco who still has a hold of his hand.
The reach their bedroom and Harry is simply dead on his feet. He sways slightly leading Draco to push him down on the edge of the bed and start undoing all of the buttons on the front of his auror robes, slowly making his way through all nine of them before pulling the dark red robe from his shoulders.
Then come the undershirt and trousers. When Harry is sitting in just his boxers and socks Draco stands and pulls him up once more. The sheets pull themselves back with a wandless spell and Draco is guiding Harry under them.
He makes a soft noise of protest and half heartedly pushes Draco’s hands away. “M’dirty. I need t‘shower.” His words are no more than a mumble and hard to distinguish from each other. When he manages to make sense of them Draco nearly laughs.
Shaking his head and kissing Harry temple he manoeuvres him gently back to the mattress edge “I’ll clean the sheets in the morning. Come on, you’re tired. Get in.”
It doesn’t take much more than that and he‘s in and under the duvet watching mutely as Draco turns out the lamps and climbs in beside him.
Fi has long since left the bed in favour of the armchair in the corner, her favourite place to be, so the pillows are free of obstruction.
With the duvet up at his chin, Draco curls into Harry’s side, absorbing the warmth and presence that can only ever come from Harry Potter. Settling in for the night he whispers three soft words of relief into Harry’s skin and closes his eyes.
He doesn’t believe he’ll get an answer as Harry’s breathing is already deep and even, so nearly cries when a pair of arms wrap around his torso and the words are repeated back to him followed by a lingering kiss.
He drifts off to the musky smell of battle, the sound of an even heartbeat and the whispered words of “I love you too” swimming in his head.
The folded letter sits forgotten on the table because Harry is home. Alive and safe once more.
hey! could you write a tiktok fic where someone leaves the house and their SO lets them leave without saying love you? I don't mind which pairing!
Super cute! Coops credit goes to @lumosinlove
“Keys?” Sirius asked without looking up from his book.
A faint jingling noise came from offscreen before Remus appeared with his hand in the pocket of his running shorts. “Gottem.”
“Stay on the sidewalk.”
“Will do, love you.” Sirius hummed in agreement; Remus made it halfway to the front door before he paused, rocking his weight back. “I love you, I’m heading out now.”
“Remember to drink water,” Sirius said absently, though a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
“…on my run.”
“Ouais, and try to stay in the shade, il fait chaud.”
Remus blinked, looking between Sirius and the door. “I’ll be gone for, like, an hour, just so you know. Love you.”
Sirius let his head fall back against the armrest with a soft smile. “Have a good time, mon coeur.”
Remus continued staring at him in utter bewilderment for several seconds after Sirius straightened up, then bit his lower lip and edged over to the couch. He bent slightly and pressed a quick kiss to Sirius’ cheek. “I’m making lasagna for dinner.”
“That sounds amazing,” Sirius said, turning for a proper kiss. “I can put the sauce on while you’re out.”
“Uh-huh.” Remus tentatively ran a hand through Sirius’ hair and kissed the top of his head. “You feeling okay?”
“Of course, mon loup.” Sirius nuzzled their noses together, still smiling. “Pet any dogs you see for me.”
“Always do. Love you.” He glanced down at Sirius expectantly and got a kiss on the tip of his nose, which left him even more baffled than before when Sirius went back to his book. “Do you—do you want a cuddle before I go?”
“You’ve been looking forward to this all day, don’t worry about me,” Sirius laughed with a playful poke to his chest. “Go, before it starts to rain.”
Remus stood, casting looks over his shoulder as he headed back toward the front door. “How’s the book?”
“C’est bien, I like it.” Out of Remus’ view, Sirius’ cheeks were pink from holding down his amusement.
“I love you. Baby,” he tacked on at the end with a lingering glance from the porch. “Are you gonna say it back, or do I have to kiss you again?”
Sirius’ grin broke through as he shuffled onto his stomach; Remus abandoned his left shoelace to hurry inside with a spring in his step, his face bright with anticipation. “Je t’aime, mon choupinet.”
Remus playfully bonked their foreheads together before pulling away with a last brush of his lips to Sirius’ own. “There it is.”
TW; swearing and vague references to small motorbike injuries but nothing grim :)
“No way.”
“Oh come on Re, it’s perfectly safe. I’ve charmed it and everything.”
Remus just shakes his head and throws him a look, crossing his arms and taking a large step back from the shiny bike. “You also charmed the stove the other day and look how that worked out. My faith in your wandwork has significantly decreased.”
“Okay no, the pancakes were perfectly edible. It was only the stove that blew up. Also, you’ve seen me on this bike a million times and never once has anything gone wrong. I’ve got you leathers and a helmet, both of which have also been charmed. There literally isn’t a safer way to do this.”
“Yes there is! Not to go on it.”
“Moons.”
Still shaking his head Remus inches further back from the bike up the front path to the front door. “No, your way with pancakes was disastrous and I don’t fancy becoming one splattered to the road with the engine oil being the syrup. Thanks awfully so.”
Sirius doesn’t get the chance to argue further as Remus makes it inside and shuts the door leaving him standing there with a clear message of ‘go out alone or put it back in the shed’.
With a huffing sigh he rolls it back down the drive.
***
“It’s either this or you walk. The floo is broken and you hate apparating.”
“I’d rather apparating right now.”
“Remus, what is it. What is it you don’t like? It isn’t my charmwork, as much as you like to use that as an excuse, because you trust my magic other than this. It isn’t the fact that it’s on two wheels or the fact that it’s a vehicle, you’ve been in cars before and we were on a Vespa the entire time we were in Italy and you didn’t once complain. I also drove then so it can’t be my driving skills that you doubt either.”
Remus throws his hands up. “Do you know how many deaths there are due to motorcycle accidents? It’s crazy! It’s a flying death trap and you want me to go on it. No it’s not any of those things you listed, I trust you implicitly. You know that. It’s other people I don’t trust. You might drive fine but if someone else is a dickwad were both fucked!”
“Moons, we won’t be with other people. Not even other wizards. I don’t take the roads; it flies for a reason. There is no one else up there. I promise you it’s safe, I wouldn’t offer it otherwise. Just give it a chance. If you try it and we get to Prongs’ and you never want to go again then that’s fine. I’m not going to make you. But right now you haven’t even touched it and you’re saying no.”
There’s a long moments hesitation in which neither of them say a word. Sirius can see Remus mulling it over and to breathe a word would break his thought process, forcing his wall of a pride back up. He would never consider it again. It’s a mistake Sirius has made before. He knows now to leave it alone and stay quiet until Remus has come to a conclusion on his own. He doesn’t need any more convincing.
“All right. Just this once and if the engine so much as stutters I’m out, yes?”
Sirius doesn’t even try to hide his grin. “Deal. Go get your leathers.”
Shaking his head, as if wondering what he’d just agreed to Remus goes inside. The leather outfit Sirius had bought cost a fortune, more than he’d spent on his own but he knew that Remus would never have even looked at the bike if he hadn’t went all out. Andy, the man who had done the spell work didn’t come cheap either. But looking at Remus as he steps back outside, leather trousers and jacket zipped up, helmet under his arm, Sirius can’t think of anything he’d have rather spent the money on.
“Jesus. I don’t know if I’ll be able to focus on driving after all.” He mutters to himself, leaning back against the bike in a daze.
Remus, with his overly powerful wolfy hearing, turns and smirks casting a spell at the door to lock it. “Just as well you’ll be facing the front then isn’t it. You won’t see me, in all my glory, from behind.”
“Mm, I might just have to teach you to drive.”
Remus just smiles and holds out his helmet. “Can you help? I can’t work the clip when I can’t see it.”
One of the only rules Remus had laid out in their relationship came when Sirius bought the bike in sixth year. He’d told him at the time that if he didn’t wear a helmet and protective gear he wouldn’t want him to be going out on it, and if he didn’t want to do so then he wouldn’t be able to talk to him on days when he went out.
James had been there in the dorm that day and had kicked up a fuss. “Come on, Remus.” He’d said loudly. “That’s hardly fair, it’s his bike and his life. He’s fixed it up and got the license, he deserves to do what he wants.”
Remus of course had shut them both up quickly and made them realise he wasn’t doing it to be a control freak and stop Sirius from doing what he wanted, he actually just wanted him to do what he wanted safely. “I know what he’s done with the bike, Prongs. I know how hard he’s worked. But he isn’t going out on it in a pair of shorts so that he can skid along the road and tear his flesh down to bone. I’m not stopping him from going out or enjoying it. But I don’t think it’s a bad thing to want him to survive the run of it. At least with a protective layer of clothing, if something does go wrong he has a better chance of living through it and I don’t have to sit here worrying for every hour that he’s out. That’s why leather outfits and helmets were fucking created.”
Sirius didn’t think that was an unfair argument and decided that maybe a set of leathers wouldn’t be a bad idea after all. The helmet he had bought later, after he’d skidded into a rock and split his head just above his left ear. Remus had simply sighed.
And now he’s wearing one of his own, his ashy curls poking out at the visor.
“I love you.” He says factually as he pushes them back underneath.
Remus’ response is muffled from the mouth guard but easy to understand. ‘Don’t speak too soon.’ Sirius just smiles and pulls his own helmet on. Before helping Remus swing a leg over the bike and sit down, far back enough that there was room for him to get on in front. As soon as he is seated he pulls Remus’ arms round his waist, laughing as he grips the front of his jacket tightly.
Then he kickstarts the engine.
“Shit!”
“Hold tight.”
And they’re off. Remus scrambles for something better to hold on to, eventually coming to grip the hem of the jacket in one hand and the buckle of his belt in the other. The muscles under the leathers go taught and Sirius feels himself being squeezed just a little too tightly, the werewolf strength flashing through in Remus’ panic.
Reaching the first set of traffic lights, Sirius casts the first disillusionment spell and waits for the muggles to be distracted before he skirts round those waiting and edges onto the main road right behind the last car moving. With a second charm he makes the bike lighter and casts another muggle repellent charm before finally racing down the straight and narrow.
Remus tenses more and more as they speed through, almost cutting of Sirius’ airway when they reach touching distance of the car in front.
But they never even scrape it, with a quick hard turn to the left, they’re surging down a tighter country road with no one else in sight, allowing Sirius to gain the last fraction of speed needed to take off.
The moment they’re in the air, Remus relaxes; as Sirius had known he would. True to his word, it was trusting other road users that made him tense. There was a time, many years ago, when Sirius would have felt daunted by the errant faith Remus had with him when he didn’t with anyone else. But now it’s more of an honour that he will allow nothing to jeopardise.
And every time something like this happens, where it’s so obviously clear how much Remus believes in him and his abilities to keep them both safe, he feels his heart swell very close to it’s bursting capacity.
And right now it just about pops as Remus has settled his arms loosely around Sirius waist once more with his chest pressed lightly against his back. In the mirror he can see the outline of his helmet looking down at the cars and houses below them.
He’s been dreaming of this moment for months and regardless of the fact no one can see him behind the visor of his helmet, he grins into the night.
