When You're Beside Me...

Author's Notes: Many, many thanks to the lovely members of a certain facebook group who should be blamed for this story seeing the light of day :D

Um. When it says, "Harry closed his eyes..." or something to that effect, Harry is imagining. Then when it says, "...Harry opened his eyes," or something to that effect, Harry's waking up from his daydream. Does that make sense? >.< Read on...

Chapter 1

Harry lay awake in his cold bed at number twelve, Grimmauld Place and tried to fall asleep. It wasn't working. His thoughts drifted, as they usually did these days, to images of a reserved, stoic Draco Malfoy.

Draco had turned spy sometime during their sixth year, or so Harry had heard. The first Order meeting he had attended had been one to remember, Harry mused. A scene of panic and random hexes and spells with Dumbledore happily presiding over the mad tableau. That had been over three years ago. Since then, Draco had become Harry's obsession. His favorite foods (banana bread muffins for an early breakfast, turkey sandwiches for a hurried lunch, and chicken and ham pie for a lonely dinner), his favorite colors (black and blue), his clothes (usually a tight t-shirt and jeans), his moods (aloof and cool): nothing had escaped Harry's notice.

Harry rubbed his burning eyes and tried to stop thinking. It wasn't working. At first, Draco had been nothing more than an annoyance. A suspicious annoyance to be carefully watched. Harry didn't know when he crossed the line between suspicious hatred and... something else.

Draco was gay. Harry knew that for a fact. He had had discreet relationships with a few Order members, but it was nothing but a casual fuck. It couldn't possibly be anything more. Harry couldn't bear it if... But that didn't change anything. Harry Potter did not date reformed Death Eaters.

He shifted uncomfortably for a moment, then closed his eyes...

Suddenly, he felt a warm body pressed up behind him. An arm wound its way around his waist and tightened. Harry reveled in the feeling of being cocooned in warmth. He leaned back against the hard chest and stifled a sigh of utter contentment, twining his fingers around Draco's.

"Did I wake you?"

"You know I can't fall asleep without..."

"I didn't think you'd be waiting for me."

I love you.

Harry pulled away slightly and tried to will the words away from his lips. They were not true. They couldn't be.

The fingers that had been idly smoothing over Harry's bare waist stilled, then began to move downwards. Harry's breath caught in his throat.

It was perfect. Slow and sweet, just like every other time. Harry panted in relief and exhaustion and pushed the sheets off his fevered body. Next to him, Draco smirked and Harry couldn't resist a foolish grin. Then he stilled and looked earnestly at Draco.

I love you.

The words tripped over his tongue, so he bit his lip to keep them from escaping. Draco's smirk widened into a soft smile.

"I'm waiting for you."

...Harry opened his eyes. Then he sat up in the cold bed and wrapped his arms around his knees, digging his nails into his forearms until he began to feel the pain.

*****

Harry had been looking forward to being blessedly alone at breakfast for once. After a restless night, he had been up long before the sun had risen, and had jumped at the rare opportunity to enjoy a meal alone.

When he walked into the dining hall in the Order barracks, however, he was dismayed to find another occupant who had no doubt had the same wish for peace: Draco Malfoy. He was sitting ramrod straight at the far end of a table and looked up as Harry walked in. Harry desperately wondered whether he could still leave.

Draco gave him a nod and Harry cautiously nodded back, not wanting to break the safety of silence. Draco calmly returned to his perusal of the Daily Prophet. Suddenly not feeling hungry anymore, Harry grabbed a clean mug from the side table and prepared coffee for himself: sweet and milky, just like he liked it. Taking a small sip of the hot liquid, Harry felt some semblance of comfort after his uncomfortable night. He hesitated at the tables, trying to decide whether Draco would be offended if he sat at another table.

Telling himself he didn't care what Draco thought, Harry seated himself at the same table, facing Draco, but pretended to be utterly absorbed in his coffee when he felt Draco's quizzical gaze.

Harry leaned forward against the table, rested his chin on his hand and watched Draco through slitted eyes. Wearing a simple black t-shirt and jeans, with a lock of blond hair falling over his eyes, Draco looked like a mirror image of himself at Hogwarts. Same glacial eyes, same biting sarcasm, same regal bearing, but more subdued and... human. Harry's eyes fell shut...

A sudden warmth pressed against his side as Draco sat down beside him, his own mug of steaming, sweet black coffee in front of him. Harry smiled and handed him a sweet banana bread muffin. Draco scowled and set the uneaten muffin in front of him. Harry thought he looked adorable with the scowl and a small cowlick at his forehead.

I love you.

Harry opened his mouth to speak, but Draco interrupted. "How can you drink coffee like that?" he snapped crossly. Harry smiled and wrapped his arm around Draco's waist. He always seemed so irritable in the morning. Harry wanted to bring a smile to his face.

I love you.

But he wouldn't say it. He pulled away and pushed the Daily Prophet into Draco's hands. Draco pushed it aside and reached for Harry's wrist. Waiting till Harry looked at him, Draco wound his fingers through Harry's.

"I'm still waiting."

...Harry's eyes snapped open. Across the table, Draco roughly pushed his fingers through his hair and huffed in annoyance at an article in the Daily Prophet. Harry sat back on the bench and hunched forward, digging his nails into his palms until the pain outweighed that of disappointment.

"Potter, how can you drink coffee like that?" Draco's cup hovered halfway to his mouth, forgotten in disgust at Harry's drink.

Harry's head shot up, in that instant losing any mere memories of pain and replacing them with all the more painful slivers of hope.

*****

The water ran scalding hot, the strong spray striking his head and neck before sluicing down the rest of his body in rivulets. Harry needed it to be this hot. It was the only way he could get warm.

He turned his face towards the spray and tipped his head forward so that his forehead rested on the warm shower tiles of the communal bath. The burning water continued to stream over his head and back. Knowing he shouldn't, hating himself for it, Harry pressed his palms against the tiles and closed his eyes...

Draco's cool arms wrapped around him from behind, and Harry gasped and fought to wriggle away. He turned his head to one side and glared at a grinning Draco behind him.

"You've steamed up the whole bath! How can you take such hot showers?" Draco demanded, still not releasing Harry.

"I was cold!"

"I can keep you warm." Draco bent his head and nuzzled Harry's neck.

I love you.

Harry turned in Draco's arms and kissed him hungrily. He didn't have to say the words now. He would say them later.

Draco reached behind him and adjusted the water to a more comfortable temperature before pushing Harry to the wall. He leaned down and licked the drops of water glistening on Harry's throat, then roughly nipped the side of his neck. Harry allowed this for as long as he could bear before pushing Draco under the shower, molding himself to his body. Draco groaned and tilted his head back.

"I'm waiting. Please, Harry."

...Harry's opened his eyes to see Draco's pale face peering through the haze of steam from the hot shower.

"Potter, you've steamed up the whole bath! How can you take such hot showers?"

"I..."

I love you.

Author's Notes: This was supposed to be a one-shot, but the plot bunny became a wild hare and dragged me along, so there are two more chapters to come. Was that confusing? This is my first fic and I do not have a beta reader, so please keep that in mind and leave a review. Comments and (constructive) criticism are welcome!