Fic: Soft Sundays
Title: Soft Sundays
Author: bleedforyou1
Pairing: Harry/Draco (do I ever write anything else?!)
Rating: PG-13
Beta: vanessawolfie
Summary: Sunday mornings are Harry & Draco's favourite.
Word count: 400
Warnings: The fluffiest bit of fluff ever. slash. mentions of sex.
Note: Um. My brain is a giant cloud of fluff on Sunday mornings. Inspired by Sunday Mornings by Maroon 5. Epic song of epicness.
Sunday mornings were Harry’s favourite.
He’d sleep in and all the aches and pains from the week of Auror training would seem to fade away by the time he’d wake up. The bruises and cuts would disappear and he’d blink his eyes open to a hazy soft light coming in through the window. Draco would be sitting next to him, reading a book in bed and sipping his tea.
Harry would lean over and put an arm around Draco’s waist, silently telling him that he was awake. His boyfriend would then lean down, blond hair spilling over and tickling Harry’s cheek as he gave him his customary morning kiss. It’d be a soft, lazy kiss and taste like Earl Grey and buttered scones.
“Morning, sleepyhead,” Draco would whisper through a small, sweet smile that he used only for Harry Potter.
“Mornin’,” Harry would yawn. He’d pull Draco down further and the tea and book were forgotten as blankets would be thrown to the floor and they’d sway back and forth like branches in the storm. The soft London rain would fall on the window panels and Harry would swear that Draco was the only thing he needed in this world.
~*~
Sunday mornings were Draco’s favourite.
He’d wake up early, like every morning and softly pad to the kitchens in his fluffy white robe and ask the house elves to make him some tea and scones. Then, he’d trail over to the library at the end of his and Harry’s flat and pick up a book-something to pass the time until Harry woke up.
Stripping away his robe when he got back to their room, Draco would open the curtains but keep the blinds down so that Harry could wake to a dim light. Curling the blankets around Harry, Draco always would lean down and trace his fingertips down Harry’s outline, painting pictures against the soft skin of his broad shoulders. Feather light kisses that Harry wouldn’t even feel.
By the time Harry woke, Draco would be pretty much through with the book when his lover’s arm would wrap around his waist softly. It was all Draco could do to open his whole heart to Harry, and he felt like melting there.
Sometimes, they’d spend the day there, just resting their bones together and listening to Harry’s jazz records and made plans for their future. Those moments were Draco’s lifeline.