They lay there a little while longer, until Harry felt Draco relaxing again into the mattress, and Harry risked leaning over for another slow kiss, his hand still firmly pressed against Draco's warm stomach.

"How do you normally sleep?" he asked after a time. "What do you wear?"

Draco debated with himself for a while, not meeting Harry's eye. "Boxers and t-shirt," he admitted eventually.

"Me too," Harry assured him, finally removing his hand to sweep Draco's hair from where it had fallen into his face. "Look, it's dark now." And it was, the sun had completely stet. "And I really want you to be comfortable here. How about I turn my back whilst you change?"

Draco took a shaky breath, and held it a moment. "No," he blurted, perhaps before he could change his mind. "It's okay, if you wanted...if you wanted to..." He was stammering, but the way he pulled at the hem of his hoodie again Harry got the idea.

"Come here," he murmured. He helped Draco sit on the edge of the bed, and then, very carefully slipped his hands underneath the bottom of the jumper. He held Draco's eye contact as he slowly rolled the thick cotton up, and Draco obediently raised his arms to let Harry pull it deftly over his head.

Underneath he wore a well fitted t-shirt, but Harry could still see the outline of his body, and just like he thought, it looked like the kind of body he wanted to spend the whole night wrapped up against.

Now they were both of them clad in jeans, t-shirts and shoes. Harry dropped the hoodie to the floor, and tentatively rested his hand on Draco's shoulder. "You're gorgeous," he couldn't help but say.

Even in the faint moonlight, he felt like he could see Draco's blush spreading over his cheeks. He didn't tell him to shut up though, so Harry counted that as progress, but he did stare pointedly at the Dark Mark tattoo now visible on his left forearm. So Harry let his hand slide down his arm, caressing the skin as he went, before coming to rest over the blemish.

It was a black, ugly thing, Harry couldn't deny it. But he wasn't afraid of it, no more than he had been of saying Voldemort's name. It reminded them of their difficult history, of things that would probably still give them both nightmares for years to come, but Harry had no wish to erase that. Their past was hard and at times brutal, but it had made them who they were, and had brought them to this moment. He wasn't going to ignore it, but he would help Draco as much as he could to come to terms with it, of that he was sure.

"All of you," he added with determination. "All of you is gorgeous."

Draco's lip trembled, so Harry pulled him close again. "I'm sorry," Draco apologised shakily into Harry's neck. "I'd get rid of it if I could."

But Harry shook his head. "It doesn't bother me," he said quickly. "What bothers me is the way you look at it, but that's something I can try and help with."

Draco breathed in and out for a while against him. "How?" he asked tentatively.

Harry had to laugh a little. "No idea," he admitted. "But you look at it like it's a constant reminder of...I don't know." He suddenly didn't want to put words in Draco's mouth.

"Of how I failed," he supplied ruefully for him. "Of how I let myself get tricked into following a maniac."

Harry rubbed his fingers against the skin of his wrist, surprised he couldn't really feel any texture under the tattoo. "Maybe it's a reminder of what you survived, how you did the right thing in the end?"

Draco sighed. "You are such a bloody sap," he grumbled, but Harry sensed he'd made some headway.

"Come here," he urged. He stood, bringing Draco to his feet as well, and swallowed his own nerves as he reached down and slowly undid Draco's belt buckle. Draco didn't move or say anything, he just watched Harry work, sliding the leather out from the denim loops. He then carefully got to work on the button and zip, searching Draco's face for any sign of distress, but he was breathing steadily in and out, calmer than he'd been for most of their time together that day.

Harry eased his fingers between the jeans and Draco's underwear, not wanting to pull on anything he'd promised not to, and inched the jeans down to the floor. Draco let him unlace his trainers, and then he was standing in nothing but his boxers and shirt.

The t-shirt rested on the slight curve of his belly, and Harry longed to run his hand along that swell of skin just above the elastic band of the boxers. But he needed to get on equal footing with Draco first, so he hastily kicked off his shoes, not caring where they landed.

Draco surprised him though by stepping forward and raising trembling fingers to the button of Harry's own jeans. Harry stilled immediately, heart leaping in his chest at Draco's boldness. Something flared in his stomach, a sensation that fizzed up and down his spine as Draco carefully lowered Harry's fly. He had no idea it felt like this to have someone else take your clothes off, the level of trust and intimacy that was involved, it was electric. He wondered idly if they could possibly do this every night.

Every night. He had no doubt in his mind that they would be doing this as often as possible, that now he had Draco he didn't ever want to let him go, and the realisation of this combined with Draco's touch was enough to give him a head rush.

Draco's fingers were long and cool as they eased Harry's trousers down and helped him to step out of the legs. When he stood again he was trembling all over, but he was finally able to look up again and meet Harry's eye with the barest hint of a smile.

Harry slid his hands up his arms, feeling the goose bumps before he reached the cotton of his sleeves, and pulled him into another embrace. I'm proud of you, he tired to say without words. That was incredible.

The covers were stripped back, and Harry slipped into bed for the first time with somebody else. Draco followed him naturally, letting Harry spoon against him as he lay on his back. They snuggled down under the duvet, and Harry's head found itself most comfortably tucked into the hollow below Draco's shoulder. Draco's arm came over and rested on the curve of Harry's hip, and he couldn't help but sigh in deep contentment.

He'd had no idea this was where his day would take him when he'd run into Draco in the library earlier, in fact he'd never imagined any day would ever lead him into a night cuddled up against someone he used to hate, but was now inordinately fond of. Draco felt just perfect under him, his firm body weighing down his mattress pleasantly beside him.

As he fell into the sway of sleep, he gently rubbed Draco's tummy, and breathed in his distinctive scent. They had a long way to go, he was sure, but the sense of rightness he felt in that moment couldn't be denied. He was happy, and he hoped one day soon, Draco could say the same.

What more could he really ask for?

The End

(Be sure and read the follow up "Together, We Can Soar"!)

Thank you for reading, please review! To discover more of my writing, visit www.hjwelch.com and www.helenjuliet.com