Work Text:
The scene in the cleaning supplies aisle shouldn’t have gotten to him.
And yet, there was Draco ‐back at the flat, perched on the kitchen counter with a loaf of bread tucked under his arm, staring off into space, still thinking about it.
Four children. All blond. One on their father’s back, two stuffed into the trolley, and another toddling beside their mother, whose thick braid and exhausted expression told the whole story. They were all talking at once. Shouting. Laughing. One even burst into tears when denied more sugar.
Draco hadn’t stopped watching them.
“What are you doing?” Harry asked, raising a brow as he pulled the milk from the fridge. He was wearing one of Draco’s old shirts ‐the kind he always stole to sleep in‐ and hadn’t even bothered with trousers. Draco’s eyes followed him every time he bent or stretched.
“Thinking”. Draco replied, and Harry turned briefly, flashing him a mocking smile.
“Again?”
“I saw a family at the supermarket”, Draco said, ignoring the tone. “Four children… all blond".
He hopped off the counter, walking slowly until he was close enough to take the milk from Harry’s hands and set it on the counter. Then he wrapped his arms around him, pressing his forehead against Harry’s temple.
“Just imagine”, he murmured. “You, walking down the street with four little monsters trailing after you. One glued to your leg. The rest running ahead. And of course, all of them with my eyes".
Harry chuckled under his breath, tilting his head.
“Your eyes? And what about my genes? Are they all going to be blond?”
“Maybe one of them will have your face. And be just as annoying".
“You’re insane”.
“I’m thinking of putting you on your knees and giving you a child right now”, he whispered against his ear, sliding a hand beneath his shirt. “Or two".
Harry went still.
Draco smiled, brushing a wet kiss against his neck, teeth grazing lightly.
“You’d look so good pregnant. Wandering around the house, all sensitive, full. I’ve said it before, haven’t I?”
“You’ve said it plenty of times".
"And I never get tired of it. Just picture it, Harry. One sleeping on your chest. Another calling you daddy with that silly little voice. One running to me when I get home from work and telling me to take care of you. I want children".
Harry closed his eyes, breathing deeply, leaning back against the counter. Draco held him tighter.
"Are you hinting at something?"
"I’m about to fuck you against this counter if you don’t say yes".
"...Yes to what?"
"To letting me do it right. Deep. Slow. And so that maybe, next time we go to the supermarket, the ones carrying a baby in our arms are us".
Harry swallowed hard and glanced over his shoulder, lips damp. Draco stroked his side.
"So?"
A smile began to curl on Harry’s lips.
Draco growled low. And right after, he leaned in to start undressing him: tugging Harry’s shirt up along his back with eager fingers, tracing every lean muscle, every faint curve, and when the fabric bunched at his neck, he pulled it off. Then he bent him over the counter with one hand steady at the base of his neck, firm but not pressing. Harry braced himself on his elbows, panting.
"You’re a damn pervert", he muttered, voice tight and high, tripping over the words.
Draco chuckled under his breath. In one swift motion, he yanked down his briefs, baring his freshly showered ass.
"Ah, so soft".
"Shut up!" Harry snapped without turning. "I showered fifteen minutes ago, you bastard".
"And you're perfect. Freshly washed, all soft, smelling like you", Draco whispered, crouching slightly. "Do you know what you do to me, every time you walk around the house like that?"
Harry clenched his teeth but gripped the edge of the counter when Draco spread his legs wider.
Damn Malfoy, he thought. Bloody Malfoy.
"Does your back hurt, love?" Draco asked with false sweetness, and just as Harry turned with a grimace, he felt the hot, shameless tongue sliding slowly right down the center.
The moan that escaped was a strangled growl. Harry squirmed, but Draco held one cheek, spreading him open with his palm.
"Bastard!" Harry spat, between short gasps. "Don't you dare... to‐ Draco!"
"To what?" Draco rasped, before diving in again, licking firmly, precisely, with a rhythm that left Harry breathless.
Harry tried to lift his hips, but only managed to have Draco shove him back down against the marble, one hand pressing his lower back.
"You're trembling", Draco said, without stopping his tongue.
"Because you're a fucking ‐ahh‐ son of a bitch, that's why".
"And you're dripping".
"Because I showered, idiot".
Draco let out a laugh and went back to licking, giving him no respite. Each thrust of his tongue made Harry curl his toes, lift his hips, and slam his fists against the marble.
"I swear on your gifts, on you, and on your fucking blond children".
"Does that mean I can keep going".
Harry let out a strangled cry. And didn’t answer.
Draco smirked, rubbing the hollow his mouth had left with his thumb, then sliding his hand lower, touching with intent.
"I’m going to leave you so open you’ll have to sit down carefully tomorrow".
Harry lifted his face, a line of sweat running down his forehead. And he muttered through his teeth:
"I’m going to strangle you when this is over". But his voice came out broken. And what he was doing with his hips betrayed him.
Draco straightened a little, lowering his zipper with one hand while keeping his grip on Harry’s waist with the other. He teased with his thumb, slow, provocative, pressing a little more before replacing it with his cock.
"You drive me crazy", he murmured, pushing in slowly with the tip, just enough for Harry to feel him there.
Harry turned his face, still flushed, lips shining.
"Just put it in and shut up".
Draco chuckled with that deep voice of his that always seemed to sharpen words.
"Yeah? Don’t you want me to tell you how much I missed you".
"You only went to the supermarket".
Draco arched a brow. Then he leaned down to kiss the back of his neck, right where Harry always got chills. He pushed in further, slow, filling him without warning. Harry let out a low, deep groan, almost pained.
"That’s it", Draco whispered, sliding a hand to Harry’s cock, stroking with precision. "Look at everything you give me".
"Shut up", Harry rasped. "You’re so in love with yourself that even while you’re fucking me you make speeches.
Draco let out a laugh, thrusting a little harder, just to hear that sound Harry made when he was hit just right, that mix between a gasp and a growl.
"And you’re not?", he asked, gripping Harry’s chin, forcing him to tilt his face up. "Aren’t you in love with me?"
"I’m in love with your cock", Harry blurted without thinking.
Draco laughed again, a soft laugh that Harry felt all through his body.
"Liar. You’re in love with me and my cock".
Harry moaned when Draco really started to move. Faster. With a steady rhythm, his body pressed tight against him, every thrust accompanied by gentle touches on his back, his sides, his stomach, while he whispered things in his ear between groans and filthy words.
"You’re so tight…"
Harry squeezed his eyes shut. It was hard to form a single coherent word when all he could feel was Draco’s cock pounding into him. Filling him.
"You’re mine, yeah?" Draco murmured, leaning further over him, "You’re mine, and you’re going to come for me.
And Harry, mouth open, fingers clawing at the marble, nodded once, eyes closed, legs shaking.
Draco felt him shudder, right before his whole body contracted and heat pulsed everywhere.
That was when he slowed down, caressing him again with that tenderness that didn’t fit with everything else, as if he were in some kind of trance, kissing his shoulder gently, sliding his hand between Harry’s legs again.
"Shh", he murmured, still moving inside him, deep and slow. "We’re not done yet".
And Harry let out a little sigh that was neither protest, nor surrender.
It was something else.
Draco kept going, and Harry couldn’t do anything but come. Again and again.
★
The steam filled the bathroom like a warm cloud, wrapping the tiles and fogging the mirror. Draco turned off the tap with one hand while holding Harry with the other, helping him dry off as he sat on the edge of the tub. His body still trembled a little, exhausted, his thighs glistening, marked by the fingers that had held him, guided him, worshipped him.
“Are you okay?”, Draco murmured, his eyes tracing his face with tenderness. He knelt in front of him, taking his knees and gently parting them.
Harry nodded, letting his head fall back, his eyes half-closed. The skin of his neck was damp, his chest rose and fell slowly, still vulnerable in that calm that followed the chaos.
Draco wet a small towel and ran it carefully along his legs, cleaning the traces, unhurried, massaging with the tips of his fingers as if he were touching something sacred.
“You did so well”, he whispered, pressing a kiss to the inside of his thigh. “You’re beautiful”.
Harry let out a low groan, opening his eyes to look at him with that mix of tenderness and annoyance only he could manage.
“Are you going to talk like that all the time now?”
“Yes”, Draco answered, sliding his hand up to his warm, flat stomach, tracing the gentle curve with his palm in a possessive, proud gesture. “Because just look at you. Look at what you did. What you’re going to give me.”
Harry frowned, confused.
Draco didn’t explain. He kept touching him, cleaning carefully, caressing as if he wanted that moment carved into his skin, into his memory, into every fiber of them both.
He helped him stand, wrapped him in a large towel, and held him for a few more seconds, breathing against his neck, leaving a soft bite there, right where he knew Harry melted.
“Come on, let’s go to bed, baby”, he said at last. “I want to sleep with you tonight".
Harry muttered a “idiot”, but let himself be guided, leaning on him, already half-asleep.
And that night, without either of them knowing it yet, the knot Draco tied with so much desire, with so much devotion, with that love he always disguised between sarcasm and firm hands, bore fruit.
Nine months later, chaos returned in the form of two identical babies, with wide curious eyes and black tufts of hair like a starless sky.
Draco always said it was because of that day.
Harry never contradicted him.