there isn't even a tombstone yet (improved as of 08-04-14)
It was just another day.
***
Harry Potter storms into Draco's office. Even when all Potter does is sit in the chair opposite Draco, it’s as though his presence vibrates through the office. Draco hasn't seen Potter face to face since... It's been years.
Potter exclaims, makes demands, his voice is low and confident. Reasonable. Persuading. His steady gaze feels mesmerizing. Draco blinks and looks down at his neat piles of requests and applications.
“You have to agree that this is ridiculous. It’s not even anything dangerous. It’s only a dog!” Potter exclaims, while Draco sorts through his paperwork, half-heartedly looking for Potter's case.
Potter appears to be finished, sitting with his arms crossed and giving Draco an expectant look. Draco just smirks in reply. He’s not sure why Potter’s here.
***
There isn’t even a tombstone yet.
***
Potter is groping him - of all things! - pushing him back against a cold wall. Draco just tilts his head back and opens his mouth when Potter kisses him with a hot tongue and burning, insistent eyes. The world is spinning but Draco can't move.
***
His son, his wife, his home. Everything looks the same. His head is so filled with noise that he can’t think, but the world is slow, mute. Underwater.
Astoria makes the arrangements with his mother. Draco's never been so grateful for Malfoy Traditions in his life.
***
Draco's heart beats, beats, beats. Potter lies beside him, propped on his elbow. He's tracing a finger over Draco's lips, slowly, slowly, until there is no motion at all.
Potter climbs atop him, heavy, sweaty, staring down at him with solemn eyes. "We need to talk about our relationship," he says. Everything is quiet, Draco tries to be quiet, tries to make everything quiet, but Potter continues, "I know you're married."
And then Potter tilts his face close. His hair smells surprisingly sweet. Always so surprisingly sweet. "Draco..." Potter whispers, breathing into Draco's mouth. "We can't go on like this forever."
Draco squeezes his eyes shut. No. Please, please, please no.
"Draco. Look at me." Potter sounds intense. Draco doesn’t know why he listens. He feels caught. Caught in Harry's eyes. He can't escape Potter's voice when he continues.
"What do you want?"
***
Draco can’t breath in his mother’s presence.
***
He doesn’t know where to go. He doesn’t fucking know anything. And here Potter sits awkwardly clutching his shoulder, as if he - as if it was about him.
“Draco...” Potter says, finally letting go. Shuffling about. “I mean, I just mentioned... I mean - it’s been three months! I think - we need to discuss things.”
Draco just buries his face deeper in the bedding, crying harder.
***
Somewhere the noise is unbearable.