A little thing that presented itself to me on my morning dog walk and wouldn’t leave me alone until it was written. I’ll put it on AO3 later, but for now, please enjoy.
Thank you to @purplehotmess for a wonderful betaing job on this ❤️
A Thousand Miles Apart (and I know I love you)
Harry laughed as he leaned back against Draco’s chest. They’d not been back long from a night out and everything was funny.
“I can’t believe you’re going on the international tour tomorrow,” Draco sighed, one hand absently combing through Harry’s hair. “Who will come out on wild nights with me while you’re gone?”
Harry laughed again. “I know. It’ll be over with before you know it, though.”
“I can only hope you don’t miss me too much to concentrate on the Snitch,” Draco deadpanned before laughing.
“You could come with me if you wanted,” Harry suggested, sitting up to look at Draco, who shook his head. “Friends are allowed to come.”
“I can’t. Just because I’m free of house arrest, doesn’t mean I’m free. I can’t leave the country for another six months.”
“Oh yeah,” Harry said with a frown, resuming his previous position and putting his head back on Draco’s chest. “I forgot about that.”
“Lucky you,” Draco muttered.
Harry’s frown deepened. Since Draco’s house arrest had finished three months ago, and he had turned up on Harry’s doorstep to both thank him and apologise to him, they’d slowly but surely become firm friends. In fact, they probably spent more time together than they did apart, now that their friends were busy starting their families (or in Pansy’s case, had moved to France).
At first it surprised Harry how easily they got on with one another now that all of the issues from their past had gone. He hadn’t felt animosity towards Draco for a long time.
Rolling onto his side, Harry looked at Draco. “I’m sorry. I will fire call you and send you owls every day I’m away if it helps.”
Draco snorted, a look of amusement passing across his face. “Like you’d have time.”
“I’d make time. Really, I would,” Harry replied. “You know I would.”
Draco sighed again. “You’re right. I do know you would. Listen, I’m getting tired now. Do you mind if we turn in?”
“Not at all. Let’s sleep.”
And sleep they did. Right there on the sofa because neither of them could be bothered to move. It wasn’t the first time they’d fallen asleep together and Harry was sure it wouldn’t be the last. There was an odd sort of comfort that came from having a warm body next to him, whether it was in bed or on the sofa, and he suspected that Draco felt the same.
Three weeks later, Harry found himself in the middle of an international Quidditch tour with Puddlemere United. They’d been through Europe and were now somewhere in Asia - Singapore, he thought - playing against some of the top teams in the world. He should have been happy. He loved nothing more than flying freely, and catching the Snitch, but every night after his team mates had left him in the bar of whatever pub they’d found that day, he couldn’t shake the feeling of loneliness and sadness that settled over him.
He had spoken to Draco a couple of times, but the time difference made it hard to schedule a call. The calls he had managed to make, though, had brought a smile to his face like no other. He’d been able to hear Draco’s mood lifting too as soon as he realised it was Harry on the other end.
On his third night in Singapore, while he was sleeping, Harry awoke with a start, sitting bolt upright in bed. His skin was warm and clammy, glistening in the moonlight from the same sweat that was sticking his hair to his neck and forehead. His chest was heaving, his boxer shorts and the bedsheets were damp. He’d dreamed about Draco before, of course, but never like that. That had been something different. Something, he realised, he wanted more of and next time, he wanted it for real.
The next day, after securing himself an international Portkey, Harry stood on Draco’s doorstep. He’d waited for what felt like an eternity before the door was thrown open. Draco stood in front of him, bleary-eyed and his hair standing on end. Harry smiled.
“What the bloody hell are you doing here?”
Harry didn’t answer straight away. He’d rehearsed what he wanted to say the whole time he was travelling, but now that he was here with Draco in front of him, he’d forgotten what words were. Instead, not caring who saw them, he stepped forward and kissed Draco. It was more than a peck on the lips, but he stopped himself from taking it too far, and then he was gazing at Draco once more with his lower lip caught between his teeth.
Draco, who had definitely kissed back, was looking back at him with an open mouth. They were both breathing hard.
“I’m sorry,” Harry said, finally. “I’ve… been doing some thinking while I’ve been away.”
“So I see,” Draco replied faintly. “Do you want to come in?”
Harry nodded and followed Draco inside.
“Upstairs,” Draco said as he closed the door behind Harry. “Living room is too cold.”
Harry laughed softly and headed up the stairs to Draco’s room, kicking off his shoes as he went. They’d had many talks in the confines of Draco’s room, usually snuggled together under the duvet for warmth. This was not the Manor that Draco had lived in for most of his childhood, but a small terraced house in London itself. There was a small fireplace in the living room, but it couldn’t heat the whole house.
Settling themselves on the bed, Draco wrapped in his duvet, they looked at each other once more.
“Explain,” Draco said, softly. He sounded almost hopeful.
“I realised something. Last night, when I was in my hotel room in Singapore,” Harry began, frowning as he tried to put his thoughts into words. “For the last however many months, you and I have spent pretty much every waking minute together where we can. You occupy more of my thoughts than I ever knew. These last three weeks have been torture because you weren’t there. That’s not all. I had a dream last night. That you and I were… intimate.”
“Draco… I liked it. I immediately wanted more of those feelings that… well, that I imagined I felt with you.”
Harry frowned, a look of hurt crossing his features. “N-no?”
“No! I mean, yes. But no, that… Harry. I fell asleep on the sofa and I had the same dream. But I don’t think it was a dream. It felt too real, I think we… somehow connected last night.”
Harry drew in a shaky breath. “Are you serious?”
Draco nodded, his cheeks turning pinker. “Yes. I’ve heard of it happening but it’s usually a mutual thing between a couple separated by distance. Not… two people who are supposed to be friends.”
“Friends isn’t enough,” Harry whispered, realising how close together they were. “I want more. I want you, all the time. Forever.”
“I want that too,” Draco replied softly. “But you… I’m…”
“Don’t. Don’t even think that,” Harry interrupted, recognising the look in Draco’s eyes. “What happened is in the past. It’s over. You’re moving on, you’re making amends. You deserve to be happy.”
“What about your reputation?”
Harry snorted. “Since when do I care what the papers think? They know we’re friends. They don’t have to like it, but they can’t expect me to care what they think. We have something special, Draco. If we didn’t, we wouldn’t be here in the first place.”
Draco smiled. “I suppose you’re right.”
“I know I’m right. So… should we give this a try?”
Draco’s smile turned into a smirk. “Only if we can have a replay of the ‘dream’. I’d like to see you come undone.”
Harry grinned. “I think that can be arranged,” he said, closing the gap between them and kissing Draco fiercely as he pushed him back onto the mattress.