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He'd first seen it on the window of a kid's toy store.
Walking past with armfuls of grocery bags, Harry was intent on getting home as soon as possible with making minimal stops. But a gleaming gold that glinted off the shop's window caught his peripheral vision.
Not exactly stopping but slowing down nonetheless, Harry curiously turned his head and was met with a stuffed dragon toy coloured in the most obnoxious gold and yellow.
The brightness of the thing made him snort but he found himself slowing to a stop, wanting to get a better look at the toy. It looked soft, stuffed to the brim, and was smiling. The smile displayed a set of razor-sharp teeth undoubtedly just as soft as the rest of the toy.
It looked almost like a caricature dragon but not as comical. It wasn't bad, actually. If you overlooked the distasteful colouring, it was quite cute despite its shortcomings. Would probably also make for a good cuddle toy with its bulging body.
Harry grinned as the toy reminded him of his boyfriend with its bright colours. His boyfriend who was now at home–most likely sulking and pouting away because he was sick–awaiting Harry's arrival.
The grin was quick to go as Harry remembered why he'd gone out in the first place. The memory of promising Draco just a quick come and go visit to the grocery store flashing his mind.
Shaking his head, Harry shot one last look at the dragon and rushed off to tend to his sick and sullen boyfriend.
~~~
The second time Harry sees it, he's with Draco.
It'd been a few weeks since his last encounter with the dragon and he'd almost forgotten the existence of it. Until of course, he walks past the store with Draco.
The familiar glint catches his peripheral again and this time, Harry halts completely. Turning to the shop window, Harry finds the dragon stuffy still right where he'd last seen it, a wide grin unconsciously lighting up his face.
Draco, who had been on an ongoing tangent about a certain cretin of a student who purposefully fucks all his potions up just to spend more time with him, is effectively stopped in his tracks.
Harry doesn't notice Draco's confused frown and furrowed brows. Amusedly occupied with the dragon toy that seemed to have gotten even more obnoxiously radiant–if that was even possible.
Redirecting his eyes from Harry to following Harry's line of sight, Draco has no luck in alleviating his flummoxed state. Harry was maniacally smiling at a...stuffed dragon toy?
Harry, on the other hand, had started racking his brain. Lost in his own little world for a hot minute, contemplating the pros and cons of buying the adequately large sized luminous dragon for his boyfriend.
It's a sudden thought that'd occurred to him. Nothing he's pondered upon for hours, just a spontaneous decision Harry wanted to make for the fuck of it.
Despite the pros and cons not exactly being balanced, Harry set his mind on getting the stuffy because why the fuck not? If anything, it'd be hilarious watching Draco be all befuddled but all the while try to act grateful for the toy. Harry's grin got impossibly wider, eyes crinkling, starting to uncannily resemble the one Cheshire Cat sports.
At this point, Draco's started to get worried. Harry smiling like that never meant good news. Maybe sometimes but mostly; no.
"Harry?", Draco cautiously prodded.
No response. Continued maniacal grinning.
"...Harry!", Draco practically shouts, this time
punctuating by shaking Harry by his shoulders.
Jerking, breaking out of his stupor, Harry blinks. Then he starts blinking quickly as if having gotten an eyelash stuck in his eye, all the while being warily eyed by Draco. Finally, looking at Draco as if just noticing his presence, Harry breaks out into a blindingly beautiful smile, teeth and all.
Draco blinks and stares.
"Are you okay?" A very skeptical question, filled with caution and enunciated slowly.
The blinding smile doesn't drop and a cheery answer comes, "Of course. We should get going, don't you think?"
Extremely on edge now, Draco couldn't help but prod.
"You're sure you're good? There's nothing I have to be worried about?"
"Yeah, 'course, why would you have to be worried?" Spoken with too much innocence lying in his tone.
Still eyeing him suspiciously, Draco decides to drop it. He's come to learn that sometimes the best–and most–he can do, is leave Harry be and let him continue with whatever insane and reckless Gryffindor plotting he's got going on in his head.
"Nothing. Right, let's go. I'm tired and someone promised me a foot massage. I'm expecting a complete pamper session, mind you."
Not having lost the smile though softer and more affectionate now, Harry rolls his eyes. Intertwining their hands, he moves them along forward and past the toy store.
"Sometimes I question why exactly you still keep me around."
"Why, for your money and fame, of course! What, you thought I actually had feelings for you?", an exaggerated bodily shudder, "Honestly, Potter, the ridiculous sap you bloody Gryffindors come up with."
An elbow to the ribs successfully shuts Draco up as he heaves over in breathless laughter while Harry giggles himself.
"Prat."
~~~
The day he finally finds time to buy it, Harry's giddy with elation and excitement, plus the slightest bit of nervousness.
It's not that it'd be a completely unwelcome gift. If he's being honest, Harry thinks Draco might actually enjoy his impromptu gift more than he'd let on. Sure, the childishness of it would throw him off a bit but he'd secretly love it, Harry believed.
It isn't an unknown fact to Harry that Draco's an avid cuddler–though he'd most definitely get his balls hexed off if he were to ever voice out said fact.
Draco had his fair share of stuffies during his childhood and though he no longer cuddles them to sleep like he would as a child and teen, he's still incredibly fond of his stuffies. Harry noticed that fond and longing look in Draco's eyes when they stayed over in his childhood bedroom in the Manor.
It's hard not to catch onto the most subliminal details about your partner when it's your former rival whom you spent 8 (mostly) academic years obsessing over, 3 years on an apprenticeship with and another 4 years dating.
There's also the absolute irony of giving Draco a stuffy that vaguely and oddly resembles him.
Harry chuckles, glancing down at the gift bag holding the toy. It's not a bad idea at all.
He knows Draco misses cuddling his stuffies. Or at least having them close to him maybe. Harry's seemed to have been proved eligible as a reliable and favoured cuddle buddy–of which Harry has no complaints at all, by the way–but Draco would never in a million years buy one for himself no matter how much he wants it.
Damned prideful Slytherins.
Hell, Draco wouldn't even admit he's a big cuddler, let alone admit to wanting a stuffed toy. Harry smiles fondly, his expression having gone all dopey and soft, no doubt.
So as it is, Harry being the good boyfriend he's always been, will have to take initiative once again; something he's more than used to and never opposed to. Any minor feeling of uncertainty of Draco not liking the gift subsiding for now, having flown out the window.
Draco will love his gift. It's not a bad idea at all, quite possibly one of the best he's ever had.
~~~
"What's all this about, Harry?"
Harry rolls his eyes at the paranoid concern in Draco's tone but replies nonetheless,
"It's a gift, baby. See what it is for yourself–and stop looking at it like that! Merlin, you're staring at it as if it'll jump you."
"Wouldn't be surprised if it did."
"Shut up."
"Okay but what's it for? Is it a special occasion I've forgotten? But I'm sure there's nothing marked down in my calendar. Oh no, was I supposed to get you something too? Shit I-"
Harry cuts off his panicked rambling in the only way he can think of right now, pulling Draco into a passionate and almost sensual kiss, easily doing the job of shutting him up.
By the time Harry pulls away, Draco's lips are red and swollen, glistening slightly with spit. His eyes seem to have fogged up as well, expression a tad bit dazed already as he stares up at Harry.
He looks absolutely delectable.
Draco's gorgeous, it's just a plain fact that no one can deny or be unaware of, Harry especially. His boyfriend looks flawless and heavenly doing anything and everything–unfairly so–always leaving people in his path fawning and doing double takes. Including Harry.
Draco's beauty was just unmatched like that.
But it's times like these that completely blow Harry away. The pure beauty and allurement that emanated from his boyfriend taking him off his feet and body slamming Harry to the floor, rendering him breathless and gasping for air.
Harry is so fucking lucky.
Suddenly remembering the gift beside them, the bag fallen over and forgotten, Harry leans forward and rubs his nose against Draco's. His eyes had closed at some point, only blinking open as Harry whispers against his lips.
"Open your gift, darling."
Expression still tender and open as he pulls away, Draco keeps his eyes locked with Harry's, his grey irises full of love and adoration. A look that never fails to lodge a breath in Harry's throat.
He breathes out shakily.
Fuck, he was so in love.
The giddiness he'd previously felt after buying the toy returns steadily as Draco reaches for the bag with nimble fingers and places it on his lap. A little glimmer of uncertainty rises too but Harry stamps it down immediately, focusing solely on Draco and his reaction, eyes still locked together.
Finally breaking eye contact with Harry, Draco opens the bag and looks in. Face that was once soft and relaxed morphing into one of puzzlement.
Harry purses his lips to keep himself from laughing.
Going exactly as he'd imagined then.
Slowly pulling out the contents of the bag, Draco clutches onto the stuffed dragon toy. Eyebrows knitted together and mouth downturned, Draco looks adorable so confused.
Harry could practically see the gears turning in his head, trying to figure something out. Until his features finally fill out with recognition.
"Wait, this is the toy you were staring at the other day! At the toy store. Rather maniacally, might I add."
Barely managing to get away with a chuckle for that, Harry nods.
"...okay and? This is the gift?"
Draco's totally bemused state finally gave way to Harry's cackling laughter.
"Oh Christ," Draco didn't know who that was but okay, "yes, darling, that's your gift. Adorable, isn't it?"
"Is this a joke?"
"Nope."
"Oh."
"Yup."
"You're absolutely sure there hasn't been a mishap? This isn't a gift you bought for Teddy?"
"Absolutely sure, Draco. I wouldn't even have given it to you if it were, baby."
"Oh."
Yet again stifling his laughter, Harry watches.
"Well, d'you like it then?"
"What? Oh! Oh yes, of course, Harry. It's lovely, very...flamboyant but yes it's lovely."
Harry's heart swelled even as his chest filled with laughter. At last deciding he's had Draco on enough.
"Okay, okay so; I know it's pretty odd and I suppose you could say childish," the smooth raise of a blond brow brought out a giggle from him, "but I know you love stuffies–"
"Yeah, when I was like, five–"
"–and I know you're too stuck up to admit to still wanting one–"
"I am not stuck up, excuse you–"
"–so because I'm the best boyfriend ever–"
Draco snorts.
"–I got you a cute little dragon stuffy that also conveniently resembles you!" Harry finally finishes.
Instantly flaring up in indignation, ready to go off about how the atrocious looking thing most definitely doesn't resemble him in any way shape or form.
'What kind of a fucking blind idiot are you, Potter?!', is almost out but before he can begin, Harry blurts out:
"So d'you really not like it then?"
Not realizing he'd let a hint of insecurity creep into his voice, meaning to sound nonchalant, Harry fidgets lightly, waiting for Draco's answer.
—
"D'you really not like it then?"
Draco falters and looks into Harry's eyes, discovering that he's actually afraid Draco would shun him or throw the stuffy back into his face or something.
He softens considerably, and looks down at the stuffy still clutched in his hands. It was an odd little thing, indeed. Horrendous choice of colouring with its glimmering gold and yellow (Gryffindor colours too, Draco notes with an inward shudder), for a stuffed toy of all things.
Although he had to admit, it was rather cute. Probably also one of the most thoughtful gifts anyone's ever gotten him.
He didn't think Harry had noticed his admittedly childish fondness for stuffies. Harry most likely also knew of his penchant for cuddling–of course he would, they've been dating for 4 years.
Doesn't mean Draco would ever admit to it though.
The gift really just echoes Harry's considerateness and understanding of Draco.
His heart warms. Suddenly seeming to overflow with love for his boyfriend, Draco cracks a small smile. Bold of Harry to assume he'd ever not love any gift Harry gets for him.
Leaning forward to press a chaste kiss on Harry's cheek, lips twitching with the threat of widening his smile.
"I think I can make do, Potter," feigning indifference and failing miserably as Harry sees right through him. It doesn't matter though, because the gorgeous uplifting grin that takes over Harry's features is more than enough of a redemption.
Heart feeling as though it's close to combusting, Draco feels his cheeks flush slightly. Entirely endeared and in love with the man in front of him.
Draco is so fucking lucky.
"That'll do just fine, sweetheart," the grin still firmly in place. "Although I do hope you don't forgo cuddling with me now that you've got a fit cuddle toy."
Eyes twinkling with tease and mischief, Harry seems infinitely pleased with himself.
Draco snorts and rolls his eyes, "As if you're not the cuddler in this relationship, Potter," lying with his whole chest.
Harry barks out a laugh at that, fondly shaking his head.
Perhaps this was one of the best ideas Harry's ever had.
~~~
Okay so maybe it wasn't one of his best ideas.
Draco, unsurprisingly, loves the stuffy. Despite his half-assed and not at all serious attempts at trying to conceal the fact, Harry knows him too well and sees right through the act.
Harry might have shit eyesight but he wasn't blind.
He'd seen the way how the stuffy always ends up cuddled in Draco's arms even though he's sure as fuck its last whereabout was on the chaise lounge across from their bed. Not on it.
While he pretends not to notice the little imbroglio, Harry doesn't bother pretending his heart doesn't melt completely when he finds Draco sleeping with the dragon tucked into his arms.
It's an adorable sight and Harry is a weak man.
Harry feigns ignorance at how he often walks in on Draco reading on the sofa with the stuffy propped up beside him. He doesn't, however, bother disguising the smugness that practically radiates off him, far too pleased with himself.
That's something Draco pointedly ignores.
The stuffy also finds itself on the kitchen countertops ever so often, just sitting there while Draco busies himself with cooking or making tea.
Harry pretends he doesn't see that either, much to Draco's gratitude apparently, since he stops trying to hide the stuffy from Harry's sight after the first few times he walked in.
All in all, Draco's gotten dearly attached to the stuffy in the short span of a few weeks.
His behaviour has been heart-stoppingly endearing.
Complacency might be oozing out of Harry's being every time he catches Draco with the stuffy but that doesn't mean he isn't genuinely elated and captivated by how the stuffy means so much to Draco already.
It's a testament to his will and love for Draco how Harry hasn't teased him once, just because making Draco feel insecure or uncomfortable is the last thing Harry wants to achieve.
He's more than content with just observing the little events from afar.
That's where the problem begins.
Now, Harry feels way too far from Draco. Namely when they're cuddling–or supposed to be.
Draco's taken to cuddling his stuffy to sleep every night. Which shouldn't be a problem in and of itself, but taking into account the large size of the stuffy, Harry's been missing out on his own share of cuddles.
The sheer size of it means it acts as an extremely unwanted plush barrier between him and Draco; something Harry loathes with his entire soul and being. All attempts to pull Draco closer end up futile.
If there's anything that vexes Harry, it's not being able to sleep well. And given the fact that cuddling Draco to sleep every night for the past few years has given Harry the best sleep he's had in his entire life, it's been an incredibly unfortunate few weeks for him.
Not being able to have Draco's body perfectly slotted into his own with not an inch of space between them because of the goddamned stuffy now taking Harry's place, he's rightfully in a snit.
So Harry's near-constant grumpiness and sharpened sassy remarks are totally justified, in his opinion. Though they have gotten him scathing glares from Hermione and McGonagall as well as concerned questioning looks from Ron and Hermione (again).
He gets away with it for a few more days before getting cornered by his best friends in an empty classroom while tidying up after the last class of the day.
Harry doesn't know whether it was his problem or whether the students were particularly irksome during class, but it had taken all of his will alongside some strength from the Gods above to not lose his shit and explode on the poor, unsuspecting teens.
Ron and Hermione find him standing next to the Professor's desk with his eyes closed and fingertips pressing down onto the bridge of his nose, trying to push down a raging headache. Looking every bit ready to simultaneously implode and explode.
Harry's stance was practically exuding resistance and warning 'Don't fucking dare even breathe in my presence.'
They approach him anyway.
"Harry."
Whipping his head around in shock, just realizing their presence in the room. He first sees the owner of the firm but worry-laced voice, Hermione, and then looks at Ron standing next to her, face also giving off the crumpled signs of concern.
"What're you guys doing here?"
"No special reason. We actually wanted to talk to you," voiced Ron, his tone alone indicating to Harry what exactly it was that they were about to interrogate him on.
"I'm fine, guys. Just haven't been sleeping very well lately. Nothing to worry about."
Apparently not the right thing to say, if the look exchanged between the couple is anything to go by.
"Harry, what's wrong?"
"Yeah, mate. You haven't had problems sleeping in a while. Are the nightmares back?"
Harry sighs inwardly, how the fuck was he supposed to explain this ordeal to his best friends.
The nightmares weren't back though, and Ron's right, he's been sleeping fantastically for years–specifically ever since he got together with Draco.
It didn't take Hermione long to piece that together. Lucky him.
"Is everything alright with Draco? Ron's right, you haven't been sleeping badly for a while and it was ever since you started dating Draco. Are you guys okay?"
Bullseye.
Harry thinks he should probably be more grateful for having the most (at times annoyingly) observant and caring friends but he doesn't think he wants to fess up why he hasn't been sleeping well.
Especially if the reason is something as childish and stupid as a fucking dragon stuffy.
"No no, we're doing great," the sincerity in his voice was unmistakable, "just haven't been having the most comfortable sleep, I suppose."
The latter part wasn't as sincere.
"Mate, you know you can, er, tell us anything, right?"
"Yeah, we're just really worried. You look rather awful, Harry."
That brings out a snort, "Gee thanks 'Mione, just what I needed to hear."
Hermione grimaces but that determined expression isn't wiped off her face.
"Well you aren't telling us what's wrong so you can't expect much, can you."
Harry tiredly sighs out loud this time.
"Nothing's wrong," the skeptical gazes he's met with makes him rephrase, "per se."
"It's just that–ugh, I don't even know how to begin."
"It's alright, Harry, take your time," Ron offers him a reassuring smile and a hand on his shoulder.
Might as well get it over with.
"I can't cuddle Draco to sleep!" Finally blurting out.
The owlish blinking and disbelieving looks he got made him wish he'd never decided to get over with it.
"Erm…I mean–"
"What d'you mean you haven't been able to cuddle Draco to sleep?" Hermione seems to have gotten over the initial bewilderment at the revelation and his blunt wording. Ron looks a little pale.
"Er...well, Draco's been a bit...occupied and I haven't exactly been getting the chance to hold him like I want to, hence the shitty sleep I've been getting." Harry speaks slowly for easier digestion.
Ron gets paler and Harry thinks he's stopped breathing. Hermione fights to keep her face impassive.
"I don't know if I want to know what he's occupied with," Hermione says quickly, almost stumbling over her words, a blush creeping up her neck. Mind clearly having gone to the gutter.
"'Mione! Oh my God, it's nothing like that! For fuck's sake," Harry splutters and goes completely red.
Looking far more relieved, Hermione continues, "Well, I think you should confront him about it. If you're losing sleep over it, it's probably bad."
It really wasn't.
Hermione seems calm and collected, now that it's clear the issue is nothing raunchy. Ron looks a lot less pale and Harry thinks he's started breathing too.
All's well then.
"Yeah, yeah I'm going to. Soon," Harry nods. He knows that's what should be doing–except there's the tiny problem of him having not a single clue on how to start that conversation, let alone go through with it.
Hermione gives him a warm smile that he can't help reciprocating, "It's alright, Harry. We know you'll get this over with well enough and besides, it's Draco, what's the worst that could happen?"
"A lot, actually–" An elbow to the ribs shuts Ron up and he smiles tentatively at Harry, "Yeah, mate, you'll do fine. Malfoy can't be that bad," he looked like he had trouble getting that out.
"Okay then, I guess we'd better get going now. See you on Sunday, Harry," a kiss on his cheek from Hermione followed by another round of grins exchanged between the trio.
"Hope it works out, mate. You really need the sleep," Ron teases goodheartedly.
Harry chuckles and surprisingly, he feels the burden slightly alleviated.
"Thanks, Ron."
After bidding them goodbye, Harry stands in the empty classroom feeling oddly empowered. Suddenly feeling like he could take this on like no biggie.
He's just been overreacting, he'll get this over with in a jiffy. Hell, maybe even tonight.
Motivated, Harry goes back to finish sorting his papers.
~~~
Harry was not going to get this over with in a jiffy.
Pacing outside of Draco's potions lab in their chambers, Harry wouldn't be surprised if he wears down the wood with a couple more paces. He's just that fucking nervous.
Which is honestly pretty ridiculous since they've been dating for 4 years. Nervousness to such an extent shouldn't even be a thing anymore–especially for trivial matters like Harry being at his wit's end because of sleep deprivation caused by not being able to cuddle Draco.
Really ridiculous.
Harry doesn't understand his anxiety, if he was being honest. It's not as if Draco would dismiss him or yell at him or do anything hurtful. He wasn't like that, they weren't like that.
But if he lets himself think, Harry thinks he does understand.
It's been years but there was still a part of him that'll never recover from the loveless, contactless and downright abusive life he'd had to endure for almost the entirety of his childhood and adolescence.
Wounds like that never truly heal all the way through. The fear, hurt, and trauma still sometimes manage to make his stomach clench, tighten his throat and labour his breathing.
The fear of rejection and being yelled at, of being belittled and locked away, of being hurt in more ways than one, all for the tiniest and most inconsequential things.
It never really left him and was still very much alive somewhere deep in Harry, no matter how dim the fear was now; it's still there. Unfortunately, always will be.
Harry doesn't want to think of his cursed and miserable childhood now. Not when he had more important matters to deal with. Namely regarding Draco.
Draco, his Draco. He knows Draco would never pull anything like the godforsaken Dursley's did. Not even unconsciously. He truly loved and cared for Harry. That was what set them light years apart.
So taking a deep breath and trying to subdue his rising anxiety, Harry ceases his pacing and gathers all his Gryffindor courage. And knocks on the lab door.
A muffled "Come in!" and another deep breath later, Harry enters the lab, bracing himself.
It was a good thing he did because the sight that greeted him completely knocked the air out of his lungs.
Draco was sitting at his desk which was overflowing with scrolls and several foot long pieces of parchment. Despite the clear stressful atmosphere that enveloped him, Draco was glowing.
With locks of white blonde hair falling onto his face, a beautiful dishevelled mess that was still much tidier than Harry's; the slightly flushed apples of his cheeks from the heat of the cauldron; the adorable little concentrated knit of his eyebrows and the barely there plush pout of his bitten baby pink lips. The quill in his hand was being worked furiously, most likely writing about a significant piece of research he'd excitedly mentioned to Harry earlier.
Draco Malfoy was a sight to behold.
Finally halting the vigorous movement of his hand, Draco huffs out a breath that displaces a lock of hair falling on his forehead and throws his head back lightly, letting out a sigh.
The unexpected but not unwelcome exposure of that creamy pale neck Harry was more than well acquainted with sends a want-laced shiver trickling down his spine.
Oh what Harry wouldn't do to be able to mark all that soft and sensitive unblemished skin with love bites and bruises right here, right now.
Alas, there were matters to be attended to and Harry–unfortunately–needed to concentrate on that.
As if hearing his thoughts, Draco brings his head down and looks at Harry, locking eyes with him immediately.
The way Draco's face lights up at once and beams with pure elation at merely seeing Harry makes a good load of that anxiety simply disappear. Just like that.
"Harry! I haven't seen you in ages!"
"We saw each other during lunch, angel," Harry couldn't help a fond chuckle.
"That was hours ago though. I missed you," the beseeching tone and glint in his silvery grey eyes signalled Harry exactly what he wanted.
Good thing Harry was exceptional at receiving and carrying out what Draco's signals demanded.
Crossing the space between them quickly with determined strides, Harry leans down and traps Draco in his chair once he reaches him, staring right at Draco with knowing eyes and a smirk that's equal parts soft and mischievous playing at his lips.
"Missed me, have you?" The rich huskiness of his voice causes Draco's breath to hitch audibly and Harry's smirk turns a tad bit victorious.
Apparently unable to form a verbal reply, Draco settles for a minute nod and waits with bated breath.
It's enough for Harry and he closes what little space there is between them, latching his lips onto Draco's and kissing him breathless.
Kissing each other almost feverishly, as if finally quenching an intense thirst, Draco sighs into the kiss in contentment. Harry takes this chance to nip at the silken lips, being careful not to be too harsh on the slightly tender lips, afterwards brushing his tongue along the places he nipped, soothing the sting. Draco lets out an assenting whimper that shoots that all too familiar heat of arousal coiling in Harry’s stomach.
Draco kisses back just as intensely with fervent enthusiasm, clearly happy to at long last be back in Harry’s arms, even though they’d barely been separated for an evening. He was just clingy and needy like that (in the best possible way) and Harry loves it to bits.
Stroking his tongue across Draco’s bottom lip, Harry silently demands entrance. To which Draco gladly obliges and grants, allowing his tongue to slip into Draco’s mouth, its velvety warmth encompassing him entirely and addictively, drawing out a low moan from Harry.
He’d never get tired of kissing Draco. Those soft, pillowy lips against his own feeling like utter heaven, their breaths mingling and slightly tickling his face, fingers carding through Draco’s hair, getting an odd sort of thrill from tousling his ever so perfectly styled hair.
Just as the kiss flourishes to get more heated, an incessant niggling at the back of his mind reminds Harry of the reason why he was here in the first place. Realizing he’s getting carried away, Harry very reluctantly pulls away, upsetting Draco in the process if his displeased whine is anything to go by.
Tempting as the string of saliva still connecting their lips is, Harry averts his eyes with a massive exertion of his will and looks back into Draco's. Which is increasingly seeming to be a mistake because the sheer lust that's overtaken his silver orbs and blown them out overwhelms Harry completely.
Panting breathlessly, Draco looks utterly enchanted by Harry despite the glimmer of disappointment on his face and it sends Harry's heart doing cartwheels and his stomach tangling in knots.
Closing his eyes and taking in a shuddering breath, Harry tries to compose himself and bring his mind back to the here and now, willing himself to ignore the heavy arousal infused air between them. He needed to talk to Draco right now or else he could kiss a good night's sleep goodbye–however dramatic that sounds.
Opening his eyes, Harry takes in Draco's appearance, already looking far-off despite them only having made out. Lips quirking into a genuine little smile, Harry can't take his eyes off Draco, still in disbelief of how lucky he's gotten.
"Why'd you stop?" Draco mutters out sotto voce.
"Sorry, baby, but I really need to talk to you about something. Promise I'll make it up to you later," Harry punctuates the promise with a kiss on Draco's cheek, nuzzling into it too. Despite his sharp aristocratic features, Draco's cheeks were unbelievably soft and Harry often finds himself kissing or touching them in one way or another.
They were too irresistible not to.
Seeming to sober up, Draco's eyes become vaguely clearer and he looks at Harry with that rapt attention, or at least as much as he can manage in his muddled state.
"What is it?" He sounds a little concerned and honestly, Harry doesn't blame him. It's not every day he stops a makeout session altogether just to convey a message.
Pulling away completely, Harry settles himself on the edge of Draco's mahogany desk, careful not to sit on anything lest Draco decides to throw a fit over crumpled papers.
Deciding to fuck all else and dive right into it, Harry blurts out, "I've been sleeping awfully and it's all because of that fucking dragon stuffy."
Draco blinks up at him, utterly perplexed but expression still exuding curiosity.
Sighing frustratedly, Harry continues, "Ever since I got you that wretched stuffy, it's been tailing you everywhere–which is completely fine, by the way," Draco's faintly mortified expression prompting Harry to add that last bit, "but the problem is, you've been cuddling it to sleep too!"
Harry looks at Draco with pleading eyes, hoping he'd get the message so Harry wouldn't have to say it outright. Alas, to no avail.
"...huh?"
"Oh for fuck’s sake–Draco, sweetheart, I don't know if you've noticed but I haven't been able to cuddle you at all because of it and I can't fucking sleep without cuddling you."
Realization and understanding finally dawn on Draco's face and Harry has never been so relieved, his shoulders feeling lighter than ever.
"You know I don't sleep well unless I have you in my arms, baby. And I haven't had that in ages, ergo my sleep schedule's gone down to shit too."
Guilt flickers across Draco's face and as he opens his mouth to say something, probably apologize, Harry beats him to it:
"I have nothing against you carrying that stuffy around everywhere, it's rather adorable, really, but I'd love to have my cuddle buddy back so I can finally sleep, angel."
Harry lets out a breath, finally having gotten everything out of his system and feeling better than he has in weeks.
Draco's face softens more than it already is and instead of apologizing like Harry thought he was going to, he smiles slightly up at Harry, looking at him with intense endearment and a little abashedness.
"I'm sorry, Harry. I really didn't realize how tough you were having it, which is pretty ignorant of me–" and before Harry can interrupt, looking offended on Draco's behalf, he continues, "–but you don't have to worry about it anymore. I'll be back in your arms tonight and you'll have the best sleep of your life," he finishes rather smugly.
Realizing the issue is at long last taken care of, Harry beams down at Draco and God bless, he's feeling more recharged right now than the past few weeks combined.
"Jesus fucking Christ, finally, that took way more effort than it should've."
Draco laughed, the melodic sound washing over Harry in waves and leaving him refreshed.
"Who knew all it'd take was a stuffed toy to get the Great Harry Potter in a snit and completely off his kilter," Draco snorted out, evidently finding the entire ordeal amusing now that it's been taken care of.
Rolling his eyes, Harry still doesn't lose his smile since he truly couldn't care less now. All he's thinking about is finally getting to cuddle Draco, he thinks he'll hold him extra tight as subtle payback but knowing Draco, it'd be no sort of punishment at all.
"It was a tough two weeks, okay. I'm practically incapable of progressing through life without you at this point," the volume of truth in that sentence should've scared Harry a little, however, he just feels his heart fill with affection and adoration for the man in front of him. He's well and truly, head over ass in love with Draco.
He voices as much, in turn receiving a rewarding flush on Draco's cheeks and low murmuring that sounds an awful lot like 'sappy Gryffindors, I can't even.'
"Sorry? I didn't hear you," Harry says, biting back a shit-eating grin.
"I suppose I love you too, Potter," Draco replies in a resigned tone, acting as if he's got no choice but to admit it and that brings a laugh out of Harry. However much Draco teased, he could never hide the grounding weight of sincerity in his words so Harry didn't need nor bother with much else.
"Prat."
~~~
That night Harry did finally get to cuddle Draco to sleep and have him back in his arms. If he held on too tight, Draco had no complaints whatsoever. And they fell back into their routine as smooth as ever. As if not a single thing had ever altered.
The dragon stuffy never disappeared though, it was still near Draco at all times in their chamber except for at night, when he kept it settled on the chaise lounge.
This time it didn't find its way back into Draco's arms, though. Because they were occupied now.
There was only room for Harry, which he'd made crystal clear, making sure to use that privilege thoroughly.
Harry hasn't had a shitty night's sleep since.