Rating:
R
House:
The Dark Arts
Characters:
Draco Malfoy Harry Potter
Genres:
Slash Romance
Era:
Multiple Eras
Stats:
Published: 10/15/2003
Updated: 10/15/2003
Words: 1,120
Chapters: 1
Hits: 509

Scared

les

Story Summary:
Harry slips out of Draco's bed in the wee small hours of the morning, determined to end it. Will he be able to stay away?

Posted:
10/15/2003
Hits:
509

If there was one thing Harry Potter knew, it was that this had to stop.

Harry walked across the room, slipped into the trousers he had discarded the previous evening and chanced a quick glance at the bed. Draco Malfoy was still asleep, hogging the covers as usual. The blond looked peaceful when he was sleeping. Harry ‘humpf-ed’ silently at the image of a peaceful Draco and walked out the door, closing it quietly.

The brisk morning air brought Harry out of his reverie as he left Draco’s apartment. How did he get into this mess? He ran a hand through his dark hair and squinted up at the morning sun. He knew Ginny, his fiancée, would wonder where he had spent the night, and he knew he didn’t have an answer for her. Well, he did have an answer, just not one he could speak aloud.

He had begun dating Ginny Weasley during his sixth year at school, more because everyone expected it than because he wanted to. The reason he kept dating her, though, was altogether different. It was safe. Being with Ginny was easy and comfortable. No raging passion, no gut-wrenching constant fear, no terror of losing her. Not like with Draco. He shushed his inner voice and sighed audibly. He wanted a trouble-free life. He’d had enough heartache to last him well into old age, and he didn’t want to add any more to the tally sheet.

And if Draco Malfoy was anything at all, he was heartache.

------------

Draco awoke with a start, absently running his hand over the empty side of the bed, feeling for his lover’s warmth. Upon finding Harry annoyingly absent, he stormed around the room and got dressed, then made a beeline for the door. Harry was not going to pull this shit again. Not this time.

Draco knew which route Harry took back home. Harry was so damned predictable at times. Even this habit Harry had of sneaking out of Draco’s bed in the morning. Well, Draco was tired of it. He knew Harry was running scared and knew he himself was partially to blame, as much as he hated to admit such a thing.

Draco may have been the one to fall first, but Harry was the one who had closed the deal. The blond ran a hand absently through his hair, wondering how he’d allowed Harry to get away with this fucking idiocy for three years.

It all started in seventh year. Draco noticed, all of a sudden, that he quite liked watching Harry Potter. Liked watching him all the time. He figured nothing would come of it. Wanted nothing to come of it, really. But then Harry, being a prat, had ruined Draco’s perfect unrequited staring sessions by staring back. Draco, being the very antithesis of a saint, had decided to up the ante. He’d moved from staring to random, innocent touches. A hand brush here, a foot nudge there. Harry, being a stupidly impulsive Gryffindor, had catapulted straight from casual contact, to slamming Draco up against an empty corridor wall. So while Draco may have wanted to devour Harry first, it was Harry who’d sent them plumetting past the point of no return.

Draco shook his head to stave off the memories and quickened his pace, not knowing how much of a head start Harry had gotten. He didn’t know what he was going to say once he found the stubborn brunet. But he did know that was tired of sharing Harry with that stupid Weasley girl. He was tired of waking to an empty bed. And most of all, he was tired of Harry acting like a scared git.

Harry loved him. Draco knew it. And he figured Harry knew it, too. And therein lay the problem.

------------

“Running away, Potter?”

Harry stopped dead at the sound of Draco’s angry drawl. He steeled himself and turned around to face the other man. Draco was panting, out of breath, looking like an avenging angel with his pale hair whipping around his face, his cheeks flushed with anger.

“Well? Forgotten how to speak have you, Potter?” Draco closed the gap between them. Harry’s Adam’s apple bobbed madly, drawing Draco’s gaze.

Harry remained silent, and Draco lifted a single finger to trace down the front of Harry’s neck. Barely touching. Harry sighed and tilted his neck, allowing Draco to slip a finger inside his collar.

“Harry, I don’t want you to leave in the mornings.” Draco’s voice was barely a whisper. Keeping his gaze on the top button of Harry’s shirt, Draco slightly ran his finger back and forth above the opening. “We aren’t doing anything wrong, Harry. There’s no need to keep up this little charade. We aren’t in school anymore.”

Harry swallowed, looked down and took a step back. “No, we aren’t in school anymore. In school this was a game, you and I. And we’re all grown up now. No time for games anymore.”

“What?” Draco stared in disbelief for a second, before composing himself enough to speak. Fists clenched at his sides, he closed the gap between them again. “You are a fool, Potter. This isn’t a fucking game. What you have with that Weasley girl, that’s a game. A stupid, scared little boy’s game.”

“Draco, don’t …” Harry began.

Draco interrupted, jerking Harry’s chin up with his hand. “At least look at me when you say this shit, Harry.”

Harry looked up into Draco’s eyes and blinked. Once. Twice.

“You were saying, Potter?” Draco unclenched one of his fists and ran his hand over Harry’s side. Brushing lightly, encouragingly. Hoping against hope that Potter would stop being such an idiot.

Draco’s hand snaked around to Harry’s stomach, just above his belt buckle. Harry closed his eyes, and Draco ran his fingertips underneath the waistband of the other man’s trousers. Harry’s breath hitched, and Draco leaned slightly forward, barely brushing his lips against Harry’s. “Harry. We can do this. Together.”

Harry’s eyes flew open and he backed up two, three, four paces. Leaving Draco shocked and alone. “I’m not doing this anymore Draco. I’m not”

Draco moved forward, but Harry kept backing up. “Potter, what the hell are you afraid of?” Draco watched Harry backing further and further away and realized just how out of his hands this situation was. He felt himself begin to tremble, shake.

“I’m not afraid of anything. I just don't want to do this anymore. I just don’t want you anymore, Draco.” The look in his eyes belied his words. “Just let me go.”

Harry turned away from Draco, walking at first then breaking into a run.

Draco watched until Harry became a dark-haired speck in the distance. "Coward."