Work Text:
Harry wakes up exactly one minute before the alarm, like clockwork.
He lies on his stomach, quiet and still, arms buried under his pillow. His entire body is lax, eyes adjusting to the pre-dawn glow one slow blink at a time. A blue-white hush blankets the room, ethereal and soft, a dream realm.
The curtains billow with crisp autumn air, and Harry burrows deeper into the blanket away from the chill. He sinks into a doze, only to be jolted awake by cold feet pressing into his calves.
“Fuck,” he grumbles, shifting his legs away. “Your feet are bloody cold.”
Beside him, Draco pulls the covers off his head. His hair fluffs and sticks up in platinum spikes. “Someone left the window open last night.” He disappears back under the blanket and digs cold toes into the arch of Harry’s foot.
Harry giggles and kicks Draco’s feet away. He grabs Draco and pulls him into a bear hug, burying his nose into the soft hair at Draco’s nape. Draco relaxes into Harry’s embrace, pliable and sleep warm, manna from heaven.
“I suppose we have to get up,” Draco says. As if on cue, the alarm blares.
Harry shifts to turn it off, frowning as a pocket of cold air infiltrates their warm cocoon. He pulls the covers close and Draco closer, nestling him back into place. “Five more minutes,” he begs.
Silence settles, pierced only by the sun’s rays peeking over the windowsill. A feline silhouette appears in the window, and a furry white cat face pushes aside the curtains and peers into the room.
“The mew is back,” Harry says softly.
Draco hums. “Not surprising. You keep luring him with that fancy kibble.”
The cat stretches lithely into the room and hops featherlight onto the bed. Draco scratches his chin and immediately retracts his arm back under the covers, shivering.
“You should close the window,” he grumbles.
“Rock, paper, scissors?”
Draco hums again. “You’ll only lose.”
“Wha?” Harry scoffs. “I will not!”
Draco sighs dramatically. “Fine.” He flaps his hand. “Rock, paper, scissors. You choose rock, like always, and I choose paper because I know you will choose rock, like always, and I win. Like always. Yay, me,” he says flatly. “Ergo, you close the window.”
Harry clings Draco tighter. “I don’t wanna,” he says, pouting. “You’re warm,” he nuzzles Draco’s ear, “and you smell like you.”
Draco scrunches his face. “I do not smell, Potter. It’s a natural bouquet.”
Harry nibbles behind Draco’s ear and slides his hand down Draco’s abdomen, fingertips trailing over hot skin under the waistband of Draco’s pants. “Mmmm, your natural bouquet is more potent in the morning.”
“My natural bouquet is delightful.” He cranes his neck and gives Harry a quick peck, a dismissal. “Our five minutes is up.”
“But Felix is already settled in!” Harry presses Draco into him, grinding into Draco’s arse. “We can’t disturb him. That would be rude.” The cat’s ears swivel, in approval, Harry decides.
Draco chuckles. “You named the cat.” He lifts his chin to rest the back of his head on Harry's shoulder, allowing Harry access to his neck, a small victory. Harry’s heart throbs, pushing heat through his veins and to regions south. “You’re a big softy,” Draco says.
Harry cants his hips with purpose. “Not for much longer.”
“We have to get up.” Draco arches back, pulling a moan from Harry. “We have… work, or something,” Draco continues. Harry’s fingers slip lower, grazing coarse hair. Draco twists and licks into Harry’s mouth, velvet smooth.
Harry’s phone buzzes, and Draco’s pings three times in quick succession. Draco slumps with a groan. He sighs. “Duty calls.”
Harry raises and rolls on top of Draco, pressing between his legs. Draco squawks in protest but Harry silences him with a nudge of his hips. “They can sod off. I’m duty bound to finish what I started.”
Draco dives his fingers in Harry’s hair and grins into Harry’s kiss.