finding Malfoy facing away from him, fiddling with the kettle. “But it was urgent, and it was about work.” Surely this Harry worked too, right? Harry’s eyes widened slightly. What if he was a stay at home dad?

Malfoy sighed and turned around to face Harry, leaning back against the counter. “No, I’m sorry. You told me where you were going, and you were gone less than half an hour, it’s not a big deal, really.”

“Yeah but, I upset you,” Harry said hesitantly, not believing an apology was really all it took. The Malfoy he knew would be spitting mad at any perceived slight against him.

Malfoy smiled. “I was just really looking forward to spending the whole day with you, that’s all.” The kettle whistled and he turned around to begin making two cups of tea. “Work has been busy for both of us recently, and with Lissa waiting for us when we get home every night, it just feels like it’s been forever since we’ve had an entire day to ourselves, you know?”

Harry nodded and epted the tea Malfoy held out for him. He sipped at it in lieu of replying, and moaned aloud at the taste of it. “Mmm, this is perfect,” he said unthinkingly.

Malfoy snorted. “When is it not?” He raked his gaze over Harry as he drank some of his own tea. “We don’t have to be over at the Weasleys for a few more hours. Any idea how you want to spend the time?”

Harry went hot all over at the thoughts that inspired, his brain flashing images from earlier in the morning; sweaty, close, naked images. He cast his mind around for an innocuous activity they could do together without Harry raising too many suspicions. “The telly,” he burst out quickly, watching as Malfoy raised his eyebrows. “We could er, watch a film?”

Malfoy nodded slowly. “An afternoon on the sofa. How could I say no?”

Half an hour later, and Harry was beginning to regret his offer. He sat on one end of the sofa, Malfoy’s head in his lap and his hand wrapped around Harry’s thigh. The movie Malfoy had picked was set in space, a genre Harry usually loved, but he couldn’t concentrate on a single thing happening on the screen. Malfoy had drawn the curtains and left the lights off, and the room was dark and intimate, and he could feel Malfoy’s every exhale, hot and damp against his thigh. His hair was soft and smooth between Harry’s fingers, and it was only when he realised he’d been rubbing at Malfoy’s scalp that he yanked his hand away.

“Why’d you stop?” Malfoy pouted up at him and grabbed Harry’s wrist, forcing his hand back to his head. Harry tentatively moved his fingers again, and Malfoy arched his head into it like a cat, a contented humming sound rumbling deep in his throat. It startled a laugh out of Harry; it was just so like his Malfoy.

“Don’t laugh at me,” Malfoy said, turning away from the telly and looking up at Harry. His face was now a bit too close to a part of Harry that suddenly seemed rather interested in the new position. Harry held his breath and willed his erection away. Malfoy smirked and edged his face clos

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