Happy December!
*waves* Hi, all. If you haven't been reading my nano (*pimps shamelessly* go check it out at
katcollides) then you might think I haven't been writing. I have been writing though and not only my nano but I'm aiming to write 25 little fics during December to post one each day sort of like an Advent Calendar of sorts. True, my fics are not as good as chocolate but hopefully you'll like them nonetheless.
I'm attempting 25 different pairings/gen fics so I'll start you off easy & main-stream (and not too angsty)
Title: a non-thing
Pairing: Harry/Draco (yes, you read correctly)
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Draco is having trouble defining his relationship with Harry.
Time period: I'm thinking post-war, but I suppose it could be Hogwarts-era if you want it to be.
A/N: Many thanks to
kellygreen for the look over. *loves*
a non-thing
"This isn't, you know, it's not a - a thing," Draco whispers urgently into the darkness. Through the haze of his mind Harry thinks this is a strange thing to be say after sex and wonders if this is the sort of thing that normal people say after they finish shagging. He thinks not.
"Then what is it?" Harry asks with a sigh. He's tired, really. It's been weeks leading up to this. Weeks of playing cat and mouse, of leading and following and teasing and flirting and he really just wants to sleep next to the person who he is not having a thing with.
"It's a - a non-thing."
Harry has never heard Draco be quite so inarticulate and it should be amusing but it strangely isn't. Instead of amusement he's filled with this strange sort of dread in the pit of his stomach.
"A non-thing? As in nothing?" Harry supplies.
"No," Draco says slowly as if speaking to a small child and Harry wonders why he's the one being made out to be stupid.
"Well, it's either something or it's nothing, so make up your mind. I really don't care either way," Harry says and rolls over, his back to Draco.
"So that's it?"
Harry gives an annoyed sigh and rolls back over. "Look," he says. "It is what it is. Just stop thinking. Fuck."
Draco seems to accept this answer because there is shuffling on the bed and then silence. Harry can't see him but he can feel the indecision in the air. He rolls over again. He doesn't care. He doesn't.
Perhaps ten seconds pass before a cold hand rests on his side and then is removed a moment later. Harry stares into the darkness and waits. Another long moment and then the hand is back. The hand is taken away again and Harry rolls his eyes. He wonders vaguely if Draco is always this indecisive. He certainly wasn't a moment ago when they were… the hand is back. Exasperated, Harry takes Draco's wrist and yanks, wrapping the arm around his waist. There is a undignified noise from behind him before Draco relaxes and lets their fingers intertwine.
There's a soft breathing on the back of his neck that is bound to get irritating but for now Harry is strangely satisfied.
"A non-thing?" he says in a mocking tone.
"Shut up," Draco mumbles behind him and squeezes Harry around the middle. Harry smiles into the darkness before he closes his eyes and falls asleep to the rhythm of the breathing against the back of his neck.