“Is it morning?” Draco murmured. His hair hung dishevelled, all over his face. Harry stared at him. Malfoy’s eyes were sweet and grave, this close. “Not yet,” Harry said, and swallowed. “Sorry.” “Mm?” “For - waking you up,” Harry said. “I don’t know. I’m sorry, I don’t know why I came back--” “I’m glad you did,” Draco mumbled, and put his head against Harry’s shoulder. Harry went very still. “I thought maybe you’d finally buggered off.” “Are you always like this in the mornings?” Harry said, overly jocular. “I - maybe I should come by more often--” “Mm,” Draco said, yawning, breath warm against Harry’s neck. “If you like.” “Okay,” Harry said, and shook his head. “Okay, then.” He shifted, until he was half sprawled back against the dragon’s leg, and Draco followed him, holding onto his wrist, until he was lying next to Harry. Then he rolled and rested his cheek against Harry’s shoulder again, and Harry closed his eyes. He hadn’t slept yet tonight. It was cold in the barn, but Malfoy was warm, half-resting on him. “Are you going back to sleep?” Harry mumbled, shy, and Draco made a quiet, agreeable noise. Something like gravity sunk into Harry’s chest, inevitable and aching. He turned his head; he opened his eyes. Malfoy made a tiny noise and shifted up, and their mouths brushed, light and cool with the dark valley quiet outside. Harry’s breath came short, and Draco mumbled something he couldn’t catch, patted clumsily at Harry’s chest. “Sleep,” he said, “it’s still dark out.” “Yeah,” Harry said. After a moment he brought his arm up around Draco’s shoulders, holding him there. “Okay.”
Such Great Heights by @dddraconis
