XXI.

When he awoke, Harry sat straight up in bed.

Messy blond hair was splayed out on the pillow beside him, an innocent face, relaxed. Harry breathed again, like a hand that had been around his neck had just loosened its grip.

Draco stirred, rolling his head to the side before opening one eye to squint at Harry in the semi-darkness.

"What time is it?" Harry smiled at the sleep-thick voice.

"I dunno," Harry answered. He blinked. Draco blinked back, lifting his head off the pillow. "Am I in your bed?"

Draco dropped his head back to the pillow, mumbling into the fabric, "Yes."

Harry was silent for a second, thinking through everything he remembered.

"Did you… jump through the fire for me?"

"I want to sleep, Potter," Draco groaned, turning his face into the pillow even more. "They took you and I just followed in the f-fire."

"You saved me."

"Don't sound so surprised," Draco said. "But yes, I guess we're even."

The world shifted as Harry lay down again, knocking an arm against Draco. "It wasn't a competition, but I can't believe it."

"I channeled my best Harry Potter," Draco said, warm breath puffing against Harry's cheek. "You got expelliarmus, but I defeated these neo-Death Eaters with wingardium-fucking-leviosa."

"Here's a reward for that," Harry said, half-joking and half-annoyed, landing a kiss on Draco's cheek.

"Fuck off, Potter," Draco said lightheartedly. "You're the one who nearly got captured and tortured by teenagers."

That, somehow, struck Harry right in the chest. "They were so young?"

Evil did breed evil, but Harry couldn't believe that there were people who had lived through the war, who could have been directly involved and who would want to start that again. It was just—chilling, perhaps, to think about. Harry knew so many people who had sacrificed so much, and it was almost inconceivable that there were people out there who could threaten the peace so soon after it had been established.

Harry was startled from his spiralling thoughts by a kiss on his mouth. He looked to Draco, who had a sheepish expression on.

"You needed a distraction," he said, "and I wanted to ask if you're in any pain. You were cut up pretty badly, actually."

Harry raised his eyebrows at the news, though he leaned in for another quick kiss.

"No pain," he said.

Draco nodded firmly. "Good. My magic was shaky, but I patched you up and brought you here. You're probably still healing. You're lucky I had healing salve. Let me show you."

Harry met Draco's eyes, watching them flicker down to Harry's chest. Draco's arms slid out from under the covers, a light touch that moved to unbutton Harry's shirt.

"When did I put this on?" Harry whispered, noting that his shirt did not actually belong to him.

"I helped you change into it," Draco said. "You came to a few times and listened to me."

"Ah."

Harry watched as Draco pulled back the fabric, revealing his chest. The light smattering of hair did not hide the three discoloured trails that cut along his chest. Draco traced them slowly, but as Harry watched, he did not feel the touch.

"Do you recognize the spell, Harry?" Draco said, lifting himself up so that he could easily meet Harry's eyes.

"No."

"It's a healing spell that they used to hurt you. One woman was from your department at the hospital—I knew it! I couldn't allow them…" He didn't finish the sentence, though he lowered his lips to Harry's three scars. As Harry watched, the skin was slowly mending itself, though he fancied that it was the effect of Draco's kisses.

"Draco, are you all right after what happened?" Harry asked as Draco moved up closer to his neck.

Whispering right against his chin, Draco said, "It felt good. At least now I know why you fought Voldemort so many times."

"Ha! Thank you," Harry said, and then Draco was on top of him, torso centimetres away from Harry's but lips pushed against his. They moved together for a second, tongues meeting and twisting together, their lips working to mould against the other's.

They broke apart.

"Draco, would you…?" Harry asked, fatigue heavy in his bones and embarrassment flooding his mind.

"Make love to you?" Draco mocked, though he smiled as he spoke. "I knew you were a romantic at heart."

Harry gasped as Draco lowered his lips to Harry's neck, sucking and biting for a moment before moving, covers abandoned and cool air a juxtaposition beside Draco's searing heat.

"Wait," Harry said, grabbing Draco's hair and pulling. "I want to suck you."

Draco's eyes fluttered shut before opening again. "Do you think you can?"

"A threat on my life has never stopped me before."

As Draco twisted, sitting again so that he was facing Harry's legs, his clothing disappeared. Magic was lovely, sometimes.

"Suck cock often, Potter?"

Harry couldn't answer, unable to stop himself from lifting his hands to cup Draco's arse, round and flawless in the dim light. He heard Draco inhale sharply when he squeezed and then pushed, exposing Draco's hole to Harry. Harry drew one thumb against it, watching the muscle squeeze in response, and then Draco was slowly inching up until Harry had a cock in his face, heavy against his lips.

Opening his mouth, Harry felt warm heat close over his cock, a pressure building there that told him Draco was going to make him suffer through it. Eagerness flooding through him, Harry allowed Draco's cock to slip into his mouth, keeping every touch light and the pressure at a minimum.

Zig-zags of pleasure shot through him as Draco worked his mouth against Harry's ever more firmly, decidedly, and Harry retaliated by sucking hard, taking in most of Draco's length. As he alternated between sucking and releasing, jaw working hard, throat squeezing when Draco's cock dipped low, Harry lost his mind.

The pressure was building for far too long, they were both far too close, their breaths coming jagged when they had a moment to breathe, sacrificing rhythm for gasps, hips thrusting as they both searched for some kind of release.

Harry's heart was held in a death grip, his lungs shouting, his senses assaulted by everything that was Draco.

Finally, when they stopped, both of them shaking, Harry only had a moment to prepare before Draco scrambled off of him, whispering some spells and pushing fingers inside of him.

Merlin, there was so much going on at the same time, emotion exploding in the air between them. The sun had come up, illuminating Draco from behind as he lowered his head to drop kisses along the insides of Harry's thighs.

Every muscle on Draco's body drew tight as he pushed, finally, after what felt like forever, into Harry. Harry threw his arms back, emotion ripping through him, feeling every part of him being shaken, his life taken apart and taken back together.

Draco's hips moved mechanically, though his hands smoothed over Harry's skin, pushing his legs farther back, farther apart, spreading him deliciously as he pounded into Harry.

His mouth was open, his jaw locked, tremors rising through him.

Harry could feel Draco jerk inside him, he could feel the stretch and the burn, the friction and the explosive pleasure when Draco found that spot inside of him that made him see stars.

Though Harry normally closed his eyes, he found himself unable to look away from the intense concentration on Draco's face. He felt every heartbeat, aware of the rush it caused in his ears. He wanted to sink his nails and his teeth into something—anything. He had to hold on, to be in control, but everything was being taken from him all at once.

Bare, lost, screaming with no idea who might be listening, unable to care, Harry gave everything away. All his compassion, all of his passion fusing together, twisting and sparkling. Draco's fingers closed around his cock, extracting something from deep inside Harry.

Throughout all of that, Draco somehow managed to keep existing.

Harry thought if he didn't hold on, he might drift away. The moment was elusive, fleeting, just beyond his grasp. He held onto Draco nonetheless, around his waist, pulling him closer as he screamed for it all to go faster. He wanted the perfect moment to last forever, the noise, the smell, the taste of it all to be part of him forever.

His body wanted more, more, more, and Draco was giving him everything he needed and more, more, more.

"Fuck," Draco whispered, finally breaking down as his release approached. "Fuck, Potter. Why are you like this? Why are you so good? Merlin—feels so good…"

"Perfect," Harry agreed, his voice hoarse and thin, head thrown back so that his throat was exposed, back arched.

His skin was on fire, sharp sparks darting underneath the surface, pushing and pulling until he couldn't remember what reality was. His breath was stolen, his voice another's. Draco's fingers traced the scars, scraped down the sides of his torso, grabbing hold of his hips to pull and demand.

Beneath him was the soft mattress, bouncing under their frantic movements, inside him only heat, and everything else fell away. Nothing else mattered. This was everything and this was nothing. It was being ripped in half, into pieces, it was being turned inside out. He loved it. Reality had no more meaning when Draco was inside of him, frozen, pulsing, filling Harry, claiming him.

Harry would give him anything. Draco deserved everything. Happiness, experience, love. Harry wanted to give him everything.

Draco had saved him. He'd jumped into a fire to follow him. Harry thought to the first time they'd cast a spell together, the shiver that had run through him, the elation on Draco's face.

There was abandon. The carnal need to claim, remember, and experience. But he was nothing, he couldn't remember, and every nerve ending was burned out.

There was comfort in losing his mind.

He could only shut his eyes against everything else and scream. Harry came harder than he ever had, it could be said, and when the darkness receded from his field of vision, he saw Draco approach him, laying soft kisses all over the exposed skin of Harry's body, saying the spell that would clean them up. Even after the sweat was removed, their muscles sang and their bodies spilled heat into the space between them.

"You're quite fit, Potter," Draco whispered lazily.

Harry laughed. "I gathered as much, the way you lost it."

"I love you."

Silence froze everything around them, and then Harry curled closer to Draco. "And I love you, though I still hate you more than anyone else."

"Good. I'm also very thorough. The Occluded are currently being questioned at the Ministry. I'm a hero."

"Been there, done that."

Draco tweaked a nipple rather roughly, though even that managed to send a shot of pleasure through him.

"Come off your high horse and worship me, Potter."

"I already do, Malfoy. I think you've changed for the better and I love it."

"It must be my hair," Draco mused. "You were always staring back at… at Hogwarts."

"I wasn't!" Harry buried his face in the crook of Draco's neck, inhaling deeply. "You're deluded. I don't even like blonds."

"Really?"

Harry shrugged. "Maybe a little."

"Just a little. I'll get you to confess, Potter."

"I'd like to see you try," Harry said, rather breathlessly.

"I know that you've been obsessed with me since you met me. I'll make you say it."

"Don't flatter yourself," Harry said, but knew that Draco was right. Everyone had known it but he, it seemed, but none of it mattered now. "You're the one that will have to live in the spotlight with me."

"I was born for publicity, Potter." Draco's prim tone was immediately ruined by a snort of laughter. "We'll get through it, step by step, just like you showed me."

Harry groaned. "I can't believe we… in my office."

"I love that office," Draco said, tongue loose and body relaxed against Harry's. "We absolutely must do that again. Properly. With you screaming my name."

"And Hermione pounding the door down."

Draco waved a hand. "Doesn't bother me."

"Thanks, Malfoy," Harry said, feeling lethargic all of a sudden, like sleep was going to overtake him whether he wanted to or not. "For saving me."

"Thank you for saving me, Potter."

"Bet you're glad you didn't get Hermione," Harry's words slurred together, drunk off of the feeling of Draco beside him.

"I was always glad, Potter, don't be daft."

They were alone in Draco's bedroom, silence pushing down around them, sunlight warming them in strips. The outside world was probably in turmoil. Harry would have to make some speeches, talk to people, perhaps even attend a trial. It was possible that the ends wouldn't be wrapped up for months.

He would have to have a discussion with Draco, an honest one with no analyzing. Harry wanted to try his hardest, heart lurching with the thought that he and Draco had been pitted against one another for years and that they were finally being freed from that. Draco, in his pain and sadness, needed someone to care for him, but his wit and his eclectic energy would offer Harry the same freedom to be himself.

Merlin, he had to talk to the Weasleys.

He and Draco would have to introduce themselves to the world. That would probably take years, if they were even together for that long.

Though Harry knew it was possible that they would revert to their animosity, knowing that, at least for the moment, he was safe with Draco brought him strength and a smile as he drifted off to sleep. He was torn from sleep a few hours later.

The blue sky burned with a large, orange sun and there was a hand around his cock and Draco grinning into a kiss.

Harry found himself thinking that maybe he didn't always have the worst luck.