“why do i get struggles instead of snuggles?”
“Is this a cry for help, Potter?” Draco asks lowly from his position pillowed beside the other; hair slightly askew. Voice rough with sleep. Daylight has yet to break, and yet, there they lay -- whispering like school boys attempting not to get caught as they enjoy their last few moments truly alone. Draco smirks devilishly at Harry as his fingertips trail suggestively across the boy’s naked back. “I could call Weasley in, if you’d prefer?” He goes onto question; tone alight with humor. “I take it he’s quite keen on snuggles from what I’ve heard. --- Is that how the two of you stayed warm on the run, all those years ago?” It’s a difficult subject, he’s aware; though he can’t help but tease all the same. “I suppose the two of you became quite ... friendly out there in the woods.”
