Stockings
Harry found them in the back of the drawer. It’s not like he was snooping, but his gryffindor tie was missing again, and Draco had a habit of taking it with him when he went on long trips away.
The mesh felt itchy against his fingertips, but the ruffles on top looked soft and fluffy. He especially liked the bit of green that knotted on the front, a perfect little bow.
A younger Harry would have instantly assumed that these were from a past lover, one who’s memory had somehow infiltrated their home. A jealous rage and an angry floo call, accusations that were unfounded and unjust.
But they had been together for years, married for more than a decade, and Harry knew Draco better than the jagged scar above his eyebrow.
So close to his birthday, tucked behind jumpers and tattered shirts. This was a surprise, and one that already had his heart racing and his cock thickening.
He couldn’t wait to see Draco in nothing but these stockings, laced with green to perfectly match his lover’s eyes.









