#even funnier if the kid holds off on voicing their suspicions immediately

[aerois]

I need a BG3 AU where shortly before turning vampire and losing most of his memories, Astarion fathers a child but never finds out (because, yknow, memory loss).

200 odd years later he’s just barely resisted slitting the throat of some poor youth outside a Nautiloid ship crash only to have said youth, upon hearing his name, practically screech:

“Astarion? Wait… Astarion Acunin? …YOU’RE MY DAD?!”

[its-nebula]

V3 Boys x Pregnant S/O in the Killing Game

Warning: DRV3 Spoilers

“S/O is what?!”

He panics and freaks out.

Calms down as soon as you tell him that you’ll get through it with him. It’s just all the more reason to survive.

“But Gonta… no can put child in this hell!”

He has a fire in his eyes that you honestly wouldn’t expect from him. You have to try your hardest to convince him not to fight Monokuma, out of fear of him being punished.

“Gonta will try to survive…for Gonta and S/O’s kid.”

He carries you everywhere from now on, not wanting you to strain yourself. If you ask, he puts you down, but will hold you and keep you close by.

During Class Trials, he immediately shuts any suspicion down.

“S/O can’t be culprit! Was with Gonta!”

You tell him to be wary of Kokichi, as you think Kokichi doesn’t have good intentions with your boyfriend. He just gives you a smile.

“Kokichi wants to end killing game just as much as Gonta!”

When all of you go in the simulation, Gonta makes sure you’re okay and that the baby’s okay. You don’t exactly look pregnant in the simulation, but he still makes sure. After that, he goes off to watch Kokichi, and you’re left to explore on your own.

To make a long story short, when Miu was killed, you noticed Kokichi giving you the side-eye, but didn’t say anything to him. You could tell he knew something that you didn’t.

During the Class Trial, the “Killing Game Busters” were revealed. You didn’t want to believe it was Gonta. You really didn’t. He would never hurt someone like that without a purpose…

“S/O, take care of Gonta’s baby. Gonta will be watching over you and baby!”

You sobbed as you watched his execution. The father of your child was burned alive, and he was never coming back.

Instantly, you unleashed all your rage onto Kokichi and his crocodile tears. Several people had to pull you off of him, claiming that the stress wouldn’t be good for the baby.

Besides, you could hit Kokichi with all the punches in the world, but nothing would bring him back…

 Laughs when you tell him about it.

Laughs the second time you tell him about it.

“It is even funnier the second time!”

Doesn’t laugh the third time.

“Wait a minute. You can’t be serious-?!”

Hope you valued your alone time while it lasted, because that is now a thing of the past!

MINE! MINE! MINE! MINE!

Lets everyone know that they’re not even allowed near you. He keeps you in his room at all times, you barely even get to sleep in your own bed anymore.

He only really lets you out during Class Trials, and even then he convinces Monokuma to put his podium next to yours.

Constantly talks about how happy he is that he’s going to be a father, to the point everybody knows. Even the Monokubs are a little bit annoyed.  So much for keeping it a secret.

“Hmm, nope! It can’t be me, sorry! I was too busy spending time with my child and my girlfriend~”

His logic is that since you’re pregnant, maybe nobody would kill you because they would feel too bad, so he doesn’t really mind screaming it to the world.

The longer the game goes on, though, the more fucked up things he feels compelled to do, in his efforts to try and stop the killing game.

You practically scream at him when he pretends to be dead.

“Aw, don’t worry your pretty little head! I’m alright, aren’t I?”

Maki keeps sending her threats for him to you.

“If you want to raise the child with a stable 2-Parent family, I suggest you calm your boyfriend down.”

During the fifth trial, things are very tense. Either way, your boyfriend was either dead or going to die. You knew it was all a part of his scheme, but you still thought this was a step too far.

When Kaito was revealed in the Exisal, you bawled your eyes out.

Even as Shuichi explained Kokichi’s thought process, it made nothing better.

You didn’t even get to say goodbye…

And your child would never meet his father.

Wait, you’re what?

Oh no.

In a killing game?!

Oh no.

And he’s the father???

Oh NO.

You’re surprised that he doesn’t faint, by the way he’s acting.

“S/O, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to, really!”

You tell him that it’s okay, because you know he’ll make a great parent. You’ve made him a little more confident, but not by a lot.

“We should probably keep this a secret for now. You can never really be too careful in these circumstances.”

Everyone can tell something’s off with him, because he gets really bad Couvade syndrome.

He still tries to help you as much as he can. If you’re craving something he brings you it almost immediately.

If your stomach moves even a tiny bit, he assumes the baby is coming even though he knows better. You have to tell him that it’s only a kick and he needs to take it down a couple of notches.

“Heh…sorry.”

His anxiety is through the ROOF.

Still tries to work on it. He’s got to be strong for you.

Trains with Kaito to help him become stronger, and brings you along with him.

“Hey Shuichi, don’t you think S/O might want to train with us?”

“It’s okay Kaito, S/O gets really sleepy during this time.”

Tries his hardest during class trials. He can’t afford to take shit from anybody and risk getting you killed. Hits the killers with the hard facts and evidence.

Investigates with you by his side.

“Now the baby can see his father in action!”

At the 6th Trial, he reveals your pregnancy, even though Tsumugi already knew.

Nobody else did. How? Guess they weren’t paying attention to your ever-increasing stomach.

When everyone ducks under rocks, Shuichi shields you with his body for extra protection. After the two of you make it out alive, along with Maki and Himiko, the 4 of you go off to start a new life together.

“WHAAAATTTT?!”

Thinks you cheated on him.

He’s very hurt.

You spend almost an hour convincing him that he’s the only one you’ve ever been with. He still doesn’t really believe it, but there’s only one thing to do.

The two of you consult Miu to figure out what in the hell is going on.

“Miu! I never wanted to actually have sperm and be able to create life! Now our child is going to be born in such horrible conditions!”

“Well, be more fuckin’ clear next time, and wrap it up when you get your dick wet, why don’t you?!”

Looks on the bright side.

He was able to get you pregnant, something no other robot was able to do before! That’s a complete win!

You’re still stuck in this school, though, and this was no place to raise a child.

“Robots aren’t allowed to hurt humans, and I can’t risk you killing someone and losing the trial…”

He helps you the best that he can. He gives you any medicine that he can find, and he lets you use him as a heating pad.

Scans daily to see your state of health. Sometimes more than necessary…

“I just did this scan 5 minutes ago? Oh, I hadn’t noticed…”

Takes pictures of your stomach every day to monitor your growth.

Kokichi always makes fun of the two of you.

“Well, I guess that answers my question! Robots do have dicks! Hey S/O, was it all cold and metallic?”

“…that’s not funny.”

When it was revealed during the 6th Trial about Danganronpa, he was conflicted.

The voices in his head– the audience– told him all different things. He was tired, he just wanted to be free. He didn’t want your child to grow up in a world like this.

“S/O, if this continues, and the kid we created joins a future season, I’d never forgive myself. It’s time to end this. Please, when you see them, let them know their father loves them so.”

He sacrificed himself by blowing up the school. As he saw his friends and his significant other huddled beneath a rock, he grinned, knowing they were going to be okay.

Scoffs.

“Well, that’s just my luck that I would cause you to have to bring a new life into this horrible world.”

He’s honestly pretty upset over the whole thing for at least a couple days.

But then he realizes it; he can raise them to be better than he ever was or had a chance at being. He can teach them to do better.

This makes him happy, and he apologizes for being so stand-offish.

“Looks like… we’ve still got a ways to go.”

When the two of you lay down together, he always lays down in a way that his ear is directly pressed against you stomach.

He talks to the child a lot.

“Don’t worry, little one. We’ll get you and everyone else out of here and to safety. I love you so much.”

Truth be told, he’s a little scared that he’s a  threat to the kid. After what happened in his past, what happened to his family, what happened to his lover…

You tell him to try to not think about it, and you know that he’s learned from the past.

The two of you only tell a couple people that you trust; namely, Shuichi and Kirumi. They’re both really happy for you!

Kirumi helps out a lot by getting you whatever you need for the day. She doesn’t get at all bothered by your morning sickness, and even offers to clean.

After the motive videos come out, Ryoma watches his and though he’s a little hurt, it doesn’t stop his determination to leave.

While she’s cleaning Ryoma’s room, Ryoma confides in her for advice.

“I feel like…I won’t be enough for our kid. Look at me now, I’m nothing more than an empty shell. I just… want to be enough for our family.”

SLAM!

Ryoma fell to the ground with a light thud, and that was the last anybody ever heard from him.

Crying out as you saw the piranhas tear away his flesh, you fainted on the spot.

You didn’t even have time to investigate, because the Class Trial had started.

You appreciated how seriously Kirumi was taking this trial. She kept making glances at you, but you assumed it was because she felt bad that your child would have to be without a father.

Until…

No, it couldn’t be. She’d gained your trust, only to betray you in the end? What kind of sick joke was this?!

As she was executed, you looked down at your stomach, rubbing it.

“Looks like we’ve still got a ways to go, kid…”

Wildly switching between happy, sad, and terrified.

On the one hand, he’s happy to be a father to your child. You were the love of his life, and he wanted to do his part and take care of the kid.

On the other hand, when you tell him the news, he paces back and forth, trying to find a way to get you to be as safe as possible. He already survived one killing game, how hard could it be to let the two of you be the last survivors again?

He asked Monokuma to see if you could have the easy way out.

“Monokuma, I know you probably want me to still participate, but my girlfriend, she’s pregnant now, so can you please just-”

“Puhuhuhu~! All applications made are final, buddy! It looks like we may just have another member in a short 9 months! Well, the more the merrier!”

Shit.

After that “lovely” conversation, Rantaro was more determined than ever to find a way out of the game.

He’d already lost his sisters, and he wouldn’t dream of losing you and the child too.

When the countdown motive for the first murder is introduced, he parts with you for just a few minutes, to record the videos that you and your other classmates would later find. He wanders in the library in order to do something, but he’s distracted when a shot put ball falls behind him. As he goes to pick it up, he’s struck in the back of the head.

Finding his body, you wanted to throw up, and not from morning sickness. 

Nobody knew of your pregnancy yet, so nobody really knew how deep into despair you’d fallen.

Though, they still felt sorry for you, because it was obvious the two of you were together.

You didn’t feel right being angry at Kaede when she was revealed as the culprit, especially as she showed deep remorse.

“I didn’t mean it, S/O. I’m so sorry…”

Tears pricked your eyes as she was snatched back by the chains.

You forgive her.

Over the moon at first.

Yes, that’s a pun. Shut up, I know it’s bad.

This man is DANCING while he’s celebrating.

“WOO! I”M GONNA BE A FATHER!”

He’s loud enough that everyone knows within 10 minutes of you telling him.

Well.

When he has some alone time, he frowns to himself. He’s sick, What if he doesn’t live long enough to see their smiling face for the first time? Hear their first laugh?

These invasive thoughts clouded his mind, as he started to cough up blood.

“D-Damn it…”

Kaito decided not to tell you, not just because he’s an idiot, but he doesn’t want you to stress and possibly cause damage to the child.

He talks to your stomach everyday.

“What’s up, my little star!”

He’s extremely proud and isn’t afraid to show you off.

The more ill he gets, the more hope he has that you’ll be just fine. You have to be!

After he’s locked in the bathroom, he tries to find a way out. Any way out, he needed to make sure you were safe. Kokichi couldn’t keep him locked up forever! 

When he and Kokichi make their deal, he does it in your interest.

“If Monokuma can’t solve the murder, I’ll finally get to walk out of here and start my family! Right?!”

But their plan failed. As you watched his execution, you screamed, pounding on the screen, begging Monokuma to let him go, please. You’d do anything! Soon, his coughing got worse, and he was soon on the ground, pink all around him. He’d died of his own accord.

You smiled happily at the bittersweet moment. He died of his own accord, no longer a part of Monokuma’s twisted game.

You knew he was above, watching you from the stars.

“Did you say you’re pregnant…? My, what an interesting turn of events!”

Did this man just say it was interesting?

You told him that this was serious, and that you needed to find a way out of here now.

“Keheehee... you don’t really think I’d let anything happen to you, do you? It’s clear Monokuma won’t let us go, even under these circumstances. Besides, I have my own kin developing inside your body, you need extra attention now!”

He will literally give you a tsunami of compliments everyday about how your body seems to be handling the pregnancy.

“S/O, your body is just so radiant today!”

Tells you stories about motherhood in other cultures.

Knows the best herbal remedies to calm symptoms such as headaches or nausea.

Nervous that you keep having to go to the bathroom, guides you there and back.

You really don’t know why he completely lost his shit by killing Angie and Tenko.

You convinced yourself that it was because of the oppressive student council, but why Tenko?

As he revealed his true self, you were horrified. He...was a serial killer?

The Korekiyo you came to love was a serial killer?

You were thrown into despair as you came to terms with his true colors. Nothing made sense anymore. Not only was your boyfriend and father of your first-born child dead, but he’d been batshit insane this entire time?

Maybe the next time you see red rope and hear a promise of “pleasure like you’ve never experienced”, you’ll politely decline.

[takemedancingmaine]

Brunch and Bonding

“Ruby!”

Liam called my name as soon as I opened the cafe door. I didn't even have a second to look around or judge how busy the place was. I was still half out of the building when I looked over and spotted him and Louis and Niall holding down a table for us.

“Hi!” I smiled wide at the sight of them and shrugged off my coat as I made my way over to the table they'd chosen. Louis has placed himself next to Liam, so I sat down next to Niall.

“Cleo is going to be a little late, but Ana and Harry are on their way,” Liam said as he passed me a menu. He had his glasses on again. I think he was starting to do it more now as a style choice rather than just always wearing contacts. They looked nice, despite the teasing Harry had done the first time he’d seen them.

I smiled at him in thanks and then looked from him to Louis, who had this ridiculous smug look pulled onto his face. I wanted to knock it off his face but I restrained myself. Barely.

“Did you have any trouble with the train?” Louis asked with a nod toward a couple at the counter of the cafe who were decked out in Cubs gear and were grabbing their coffees to go.

“The platform was miserable,” I shook my head at the thought of just how packed it was. Platform foot traffic was being controlled by police it was so bad. Hordes of people waiting for the elevator and what looked like a funnel effect of people trying to squeeze down the stairs made the trip up the stairs all the more horrific.

“If I didn’t love the Cubs so much… They’re playing the Red Sox today, and I kind of wanted to deck one of their fans,” I shrugged

It could be worse. I was getting on the train where everyone else was getting off. The train cars were relatively empty for me. For everyone else in either direction though, the cars were packed worse than they could get during rush hour and that probably explained why Cleo, Ana, and Harry weren’t here yet. Some trains didn’t even bother stopping at some of the stations because they were too full.

I reached across Niall to steal Louis’ orange juice and managed a sip before he yanked the glass from my hand as I was taking a second sip.

I got orange juice up my nose. Immediately, I started coughing and tried to cover my face with my hands as fast as possible.

“Oh, come on, Ruby! You’re in public,” Louis chastised me with a glint of humour in his eyes while Niall worked quickly to hand me his napkin that had been spread across his lap. Liam just giggled, the crinkles at the corners of his eyes popping out, very much used to mine and Louis’ endless banter.

“Thank you,” I said to Niall as I wiped the orange juice off my face and hand. I then swapped his dirty napkin for my clean one.

“No problem,” he said. He smiled and unfolded my clean napkin across his lap as I left his used one bunched on the table beside me.

“I can’t take you two anywhere,” Liam shook his head while using his teacher voice. Louis and I rolled our eyes together at him.

Niall laughed at that. “Two peas from the same pod,” he looked between me and Louis.

I shrugged and Louis raised his glass of orange juice to me in a mock toast before taking a sip. I flipped him the bird.

“So you’re a baseball fan then?” Niall asked me as Louis went back to his menu and Liam started typing on his phone that had chirped a few times throughout the ordeal.

“I’m a Cubs fan, yeah,” I nodded. “I didn’t pay attention to baseball at all until I got to college and went to baseball games, and Cleo’s a massive Cubs fan so I became one by association. Now that I’m here I’m always going. I never can watch it on TV though,” I explained. “I can sit all day and watch it when I’m in a stadium, but I get bored after five minutes if I’m watching on television.”

“It must be great then living that close to the stadium,” he said and took a drink from his mug. I couldn’t tell if it was coffee or tea. Although I had a suspicion he drank tea because of his European roots, he also struck me as someone that would drink multiple cups of coffee a day.

“I love it,” I told him and smiled, thinking about how much I loved Wrigley Field. It was like a second home. More often than not I’d go to games alone. Weeknight games and early in the day weekend games when my friends were busy… I’d just go, get a beer (for a jacked up price, to be fair), and sit and watch and relax. For me, baseball was about the atmosphere. I would breathe it in whenever I could.

“It’s the one sport I don’t understand,” he shook his head now. “I’ve been to a few games, but I just never really got it.”

I had to bite back my gasp. I couldn’t really be the one to say anything because I didn’t care about it for the first eighteen years of my life, but I also cared so much now that it was odd to me that he didn’t.

Louis gave Niall a look over his menu. I saw it because I had glanced at Louis when Niall said he didn’t understand baseball. Louis looked from Niall to me with amusement written all over his features. I quirked an eyebrow but Louis just shook his head. Niall, who’d been looking at his own menu, has missed mine and Louis’ silent exchange.

“Well, the Cubs have made the National League Championship series, and we might be going as a group to one of the games,” I said to Niall now. “So if that happens, you’ll have to pretend to enjoy it for a few hours.”

“Or I could pretend to be sick,” he smiled and then laughed when I gave him a look of surprise. “I’m totally kidding. Sitting out in the cold with my mates drinking pints is something I’m always up for, even if baseball is involved.”

“Good,” I gave him a look and he smiled at me, his blue eyes flashing with delight before we both turned back to our menus.

“Can I get you something to drink?” The waitress had come up beside me and scared me half to death. With the cafe being full of people I hadn’t heard her approach and suddenly she was speaking to me from less than a foot away.

Quickly I ordered a cup of green tea as my heart rate slowed back down. When the waitress walked away I could see Niall smirking as he looked studiously down at his menu and ignored my gaze.

Just as I was about to call him out for it, Harry sat down beside me with a bright green and yellow Packers jersey on over his sweater.

I just laughed at his audacity as everyone else looked up and noticed his and Ana’s arrival. ��

“Before anyone says anything,” Ana said in a tired voice as she sat down next to Liam on the opposite side of the table, “I told him not to wear it.” She poured herself a glass of water and smiled at us all.

“They’re my team!” Harry defended himself as he leaned in and gave me a one armed hug. I hugged him back and fluffed his curly hair a bit before righting myself and handing him my menu. I’d made my choice.

“You’re from Ohio!” Liam groaned. “I cannot believe I have to be seen in public with you while you’re wearing that thing.” He was looked around us in hopes that no one in the cafe was giving us dirty looks for Harry’s attire choice. I doubted anyone here would say anything, but Liam’s cheeks flamed as he surveilled.

“No one in my family likes football,” Harry shrugged. “I just chose a team when I was younger and went with it.”

“We’ve heard all of your excuses before,” Louis waved his hand flippantly. “How was your dancing class?”

Harry’s cheeks turned the brightest shade of pink at the mention of the dancing class that he and Ana were in so that they could get ready for their wedding reception.

Harry was embarrassed, but Ana thought they were a good idea. Not just for their first dance--she knew Harry would be able to manage their first dance fine, it’s a basic step--but for the rest of the reception. Knowing Ana and Harry, they’d pick some absolutely ridiculous songs to play and Harry would undoubtedly show his true colours when they came on.

As a result of a few nights out, we all knew that Harry’s dancing fit into one of two categories. The first was dirty; he could be cheeky and crude despite his angelic looks. The second of which was much funnier: it was dad dancing. This second category included quite a bit of finger pointing and hip shimmying. He could make any night out entertaining for all of us no matter which category he was choosing his dance moves from at the time.  

Ana’s face took on a devious look though and as Harry hid his face in his hands she started to tell a story from their class. Liam and Louis leaned forward in anticipation.

“He was like a baby giraffe,” she laughed and I heard him groan from beside me.

I smirked and listened along with everyone else as the waitress came by and dropped off my tea. We all ordered food quickly--Liam telling us Cleo said not to wait last he had checked the group chat--and Ana went back into the story.

“So we’re alone in this studio waiting for everyone else in the class to show up--because in typical Harry fashion we’d gotten there awkwardly early--and I’m trying to act like everything is fine, but Harry is stood in front of the mirrors just pulling out all these old man dance moves and a group of firefighters all dressed up in their gear walks by the big glass windows in the back of the room and they start cheering him on and I’m mortified! But Harry here kept going. He was enjoying it!”

One glance at the man beside me shows me that he’s not enjoying the retelling, even if he did enjoy it at the time. We’re all in a fit of hysterics when Ana pulls out her phone and shows us some video evidence of the incident. I can feel my sides aching by the time our food arrives and we all settle down enough to eat and talk about the music trivia night Cleo had sent to us last night.

When she finally arrived, she looked radiant as she sat down beside Ana and settled into our conversation. Cleo had put makeup on and was wearing a sweater that I was positive covered up a cute blouse. She was wearing her cleanest pair of loafers and nicest pair of black skinny jeans.

She had a date later.

I raised my eyebrow at her as I took a sip of my newly refreshed tea. She gave me a smirk and a nod in return while she listened to Liam talk about plans for trivia night. It wasn’t for around three weeks, but if anyone knows anything about Liam it’s that he’s a planner.

So I was right. She did have a date after this.

It was when Liam was asking Niall a question about his music knowledge that my ears perked up.

“Basically anything after 1960 is fair game for me,” he answered Liam. “My dad was big on oldies when I was growing up, but me mum made sure to introduce me to anything that was big currently.”

“Niall was also a music minor,” Louis said before stuffing a bit of blueberry muffin into his mouth. He made a face before looking down at the muffin. I just knew he was thinking through the ingredients and trying to pinpoint the tastes he was experiencing. “He’s literally always listening to music or playing it. D’you still have your guitar?”

“I’m not always listening to it,” Niall blushed and hid his face for a moment behind his mug. “And yeah, I still have my guitar. Just use it for messing about though, nothing serious.”

“This is so good,” Louis looked down at the blueberry muffin he still had in his hand. Harry laughed at him.

“It’s literally all he thinks about,” Harry laughed more. Louis flipped him off, but he didn’t look quite so upset, just went back to eating and listening to Liam.

I turned to Niall. “What kind of music did your dad listen to?” I asked.

“Oh,” Niall smiled and ran a hand through his hair. “All sorts,” he said. “We used to go on long drives and he’d always have a cassette tape playing.”

I laughed at that. “I remember my mom’s cassettes all over our car when I was younger, too.”

Niall brightened at that common ground between us. “We’d just go out and it might be five minutes or three hours to visit his family and we’d be singing along to The Eagles and Fleetwood Mac. He loved Bruce Springsteen and Elton John. Billy Joel was big, too. But he had different stuff too, like Warren Zevon and even some boppy 80s stuff like Naked Eyes and all of the really big one hit wonder stuff from that era too.”

“He sounds a lot like my dad,” I told him with a soft smile. “When my dad came to the States he was young, and even though his parents tried to instil as much of their culture in him as they could, he found he could assimilate himself best, learn the language best, by listening to the popular music of the time.”

“Doing chores with my dad like washing the cars and cleaning out the garage meant we’d be listening to the Beatles and the big 70s and 80s rock bands,” I picked up my mug and held it in my hands, warming them. “He wanted us to know that he found himself in America with the help of the music that was popular when he was growing up. So even though he’d rather listen to oldies, he’d sometimes switch the radio to top 40 when we’d be driving to school.”

“Oh sick,” Niall turned a little bit more to face me. “What was your favourite?” he asked.

I thought for a moment, my face scrunching up as I tried to sort through memories and songs. In the span of a few seconds I had flashbacks of doing homework in my room as my dad did the dishes after dinner while listening to The Beatles and of my sister and I getting driven to school with The Who playing in the background or The Eagles playing while he read the newspaper in his office, the sounds floating under the closed door. I kept seeing memory after memory, hearing song after song.

“I don’t think I can choose,” I admitted. “It’s a cop-out, I know, but… When I hear a song from when I was growing up I just fill up with memories from when I first heard it. I mean, every time I hear Video Killed the Radio Star and Crocodile Rock I think of my sister and the two of us dancing in the back seat of the van we had. Each song is a memory. I couldn’t possibly choose.”

Niall doesn’t say anything for a long time. He stayed silent as he watched me, his eyes searching my face for something. He looked excited, but also curious. It gave me time to look him over for the first time during the meal.

His hair wasn’t styled up like it was all of the other times I'd seen him, rather it was kind of flopping into his face and he’d had to keep pushing it aside. He was wearing his glasses as well. These rounded tortoiseshell things that sat perched on his perfectly straight nose--not that I’d studied his profile or anything in the few times we’d been together. He didn’t look tired either, and I’d assumed he would be after moving time zones and going back to work full time. To put it simply, he looked good.

I refused to look at Louis after that thought crossed my mind. I knew he'd be able to read my face and I wasn't giving him the satisfaction of thinking he was right: he wasn't. I could think that Niall looked good. It didn't mean anything.

“How is it that you just described my thoughts on music exactly?” he asked finally. His voice was soft, almost as if he spoke louder it might disturb whatever he was thinking about, and his eyes were wide with what I assumed was amazement.

I shook my head and took a breath.

“I don't know,” I told him truthfully.

“Isn't it crazy how music can do that, though?”

He looks so into the conversation, so passionate about music and our similar experiences with it. My mind kept rolling and rolling over the fact that we'd had completely different upbringings and yet here we were sitting beside each other in a cafe in Chicago discussing how similar we were at the same time.

“I guess what they say is true,” he said now, his voice conveying the amazement. “Music really is a universal language.”

“It must be.”

“What are we doing here?”

Eventually, Cleo had left to go to her date--which she had promised to tell us all about--so the six of us had decided that we’d just wander around the Magnificent Mile shops before heading our separate ways. Liam and Louis wanted to go to TopShop because they think they are hip and cool, and Ana and I were excited because it was right next to a chocolate shop where they were always giving out free samples.

Harry and Niall were hanging back from the group. They'd done a quick walk around the shop with Liam and Louis, neither of them having found anything. They then left them to their shopping and had come to find me and Ana. The two of us had just gotten our free samples and were meandering around the store when Harry and Niall came up behind us.

Ana rolled her eyes at Harry and shrugged.

“We are looking at all the things I would be indulging in if I didn't have to get fitted for a wedding dress in the very near future.”

Harry smiled and wrapped his arms around her waist from behind.

“You're perfect no matter what,” he said to her and she leaned back into him.

It was adorable to watch as they interacted, but I felt like I was watching something very personal and so I took a step back away from them, continuing to browse as if I would ever buy anything here.

Niall must’ve had the same idea about Ana and Harry and I felt him step up beside me.

He was close enough that I could smell him despite the overwhelming smell of chocolate products, a clean a mix of laundry detergent and whatever cologne he’d put on before he came out for brunch. I tried not to think too much about getting closer and having that scent drag me down.

It should be noted that Niall was currently donning a jean jacket to fight off the chill that had descended once the clouds came out and a wide brim hat, the latter of which explained his hair being much more floppy than usual before. The hat sat right above his ears and just covered his hairline.

It should have looked ridiculous.

It didn’t.

“D’you want my sample?” he asked now as he held up the chocolate to me.

“You don’t want it?” I asked.

“I can’t,” he shook his head, an almost longing look on his face. “I can’t have dairy.”

“You’re lactose intolerant?”

“I think I might be,” he nodded. “Dairy gives me acid reflux, so I stay away from it.”

“Well in that case,” I held my hand out and he placed his chocolate in my hand beside the one I already had. “If I’m helping you out I suppose I can look at it as a good deed.”

He laughed at that. I smiled at his laugh as I slipped both sweets into my coat pocket for later.

“You know one tiny piece of chocolate probably wouldn't kill you,” I said now.

He nodded. “Yeah, I know. But if I start cheating here and there then I'll open myself up to bigger cheats and then I'll be right back where I started.”

“Once you're in you're all in?”

“Oh, it's horrible,” he smiled. “First it's a seemingly harmless chocolate square, then it's some whole milk in my coffee, and then I'll be eating yoghurt and cheese quesadillas and doubled over in pain while desperately chugging down some antacids.”

“Vivid.”

“Thank you,” he gave me a smirk.

“So you drink coffee?”

“Yeah.”

“Not tea?”

“I only started drinking coffee when I was twenty-six,” he said. “I held out with tea for as long as I could but once I started on coffee I couldn't go back.”

“It’s so bitter,” I picked up a candy bar and looked at the nutrition facts on the back. I felt my eyes widen as I looked and then I gently placed the candy bar back down.

“I've gotten used to it,” he shrugged. “I only drink it for the caffeine and since I figured out my lactose thing I've started drinking black coffee.”

“You don't even put sugar in it, do you?”

He shook his head.

“Ew,” I made a face.

He laughed but shrugged off my disgust. “There are worse things.”

“Like getting orange juice up your nose because your friend is an insolent child?” I asked.

He wanted to laugh again, I could tell. He held back though.

“Well to be fair you did steal it,” he said.

I gasped. “You're on his side, then?”

“No no no,” he shook his head. “No, I was just presenting the other side of the argument. Making it a fair representation.”

I narrowed my eyes at him but don't say anything. A giggle did end up escaping him but he quickly moulded his face back to neutral before I turned to look.

I found myself throughout the morning enjoying multiple things about Niall.

The first of which was his laugh. Niall laughed loudly and without any inhibitions. He really didn't care who heard. He would throw his head back and close his eyes and just laugh. I'd never met someone who was so bright.

The second was his voice. I’d been around people from all over, grown up with parents that had accents thicker than curry paste itself, but something about Niall’s voice… his cadence and his timbre were all together working to draw me in.

I could quite literally listen to him talk for ages and not get tired of it. Even if he read me the Encyclopedia. I wouldn't get bored. I didn't think any deeper than that, just kept my liking his voice surface level.

“What I don't get,” Niall said now, “is why you didn't just order your own orange juice when you had the chance.”

I laughed. “I don't drink it. I just did it to get under Louis’ skin.”

“You don't drink orange juice?” Niall gave me a look.

“Growing up my parents never let us have juice; they weren't fans of the sugar in it and I just never buy it now. I don't know, I just never felt the need or the want to buy it.”

“You're weird,” he said finally.

I shoved his shoulder, but I didn't take any offence at his words. I got so much crap from my friends for my eating habits, Cleo especially, that I wasn't bothered.

He gave me a smile as we waited for Harry to get his hot chocolate and then we waited outside for Liam and Louis. They each had shopping bags hanging from their hands when they did eventually come up to us.

“Time do you call this?” Ana made a big show of looking at her watch. Liam and Louis started defending themselves, but we all know that they're massive divas about clothes and fashion and that they definitely did not cut their trip short, even knowing that we were waiting for them.

“Get yourself another jean jacket then?” I asked Louis.

“Oh, come off it, I've only got two,” he glared.

“Oh yeah?” I asked with an eyebrow raised.

“Fine. I've got three.”

“There it is. There's the truth,” I nudged him. He just glared at me some more.

“Well,” Ana sighed. “We’ve got to get home. Someone decided to make dinner last night and the mess has yet to be cleaned up. It's literally overtaking the whole apartment.”

“Yeah,” Liam nodded. “I've got an apartment showing later on that I've got to be ready for.”

“You and your side hustle,” Louis shook his head.

Liam had a real estate license and if he had spare time over the weekend when he wasn't working on lesson plans and grading papers, he would do showings, trying to make a bit of extra money. He invested everything, too. Liam was very big on planning ahead--the most recent example being the planning of our trivia night tactics.

“This is a nice apartment,” he said. “If I get the commission I'm finally going to buy a condo instead of renting.”

“Ayyy,” Harry hollered.

“Congratulations,” I jumped up.

“It's all dependent on if I get this sale, but I'm pretty stoked,” Liam beamed back at us all. “I've been looking at places for a few months now.”

“Good luck to you then, Liam,” Ana reached over and hugged him.

“I'll see you guys later then,” Louis nodded. He gave us each a hug and then gave me a pointed look before looking at Niall. He was very conspicuous about it. If Niall has been paying any attention to either of us, he would've definitely seen it. I flicked his ear and he just shrugged it off before walking off with a self-satisfied smile.

“You going to the train?” I asked Niall.

“I am.”

“Well then let's go,” I nodded toward where the station was a few blocks over.

We said our goodbyes the rest of the group and walked off together.

“So what's the deal with the hat?”

“It's because of the hair,” he reached up and adjusted his hat just a bit. “I didn't do anything with it today, so I just shoved a hat on before leaving my flat.”

“I thought your hair looked fine before.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” I nodded. “It looked floofy.”

“Floofy?” He looked over and raised his eyebrow at me, it just about touched the brim of his hat.

“Floofy.”

“Is that good or bad?” He asked.

“Good,” I nodded. “It looked good.”

“I think it's getting too long,” he shook his head, dodging someone on a bike. Because some people like to pretend they're allowed to ride bikes on the sidewalk. Those people suck.

“I think you're worried over nothing,” I said.

“Probably,” he shrugged. “You don’t think the hat is dumb, though?”

“No,” I said. “I actually keep thinking it really shouldn’t work, but somehow it does.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment as well then.”

“It was one.”

We walked together in silence for a while until we got to the station. It was a comfortable silence. Niall beside me was a welcome presence and I was trying not to think about the fact that I could still smell him with each light breeze that blew past us. That clean smell mixed with whatever his cologne was was doing something to my senses. I ignored it. Or tried to.

“Oh,” I said once we got onto the platform, the wind sharper up here, the clouds seemingly more ominous. “How’s the new job?”

His face lit up. A thrill ran down my spine at the sight of his smile, his whole demeanour brightening.

“I love it,” he said now, shoving his hands in his jacket pockets.

“That’s brilliant!”

“I’m genuinely so happy there,” he said, shifting his weight from one foot to another, swaying a bit. “It’s like… I spent so long working such crappy jobs and I’ve got all this experience and knowledge and now I’ve got a job with people who seem nice enough and I’m back in Chicago. I’m doing the work I like. Everything seems like it’s falling into place and I’m just really happy with my job.”

“What’s your favourite part?”

“We have this break room, right?” He started as the train came rolling up. “It’s got a coffee machine, one of those pod ones, and a kettle for tea or whatever. The room is filled with all these fun colours and comfy chairs and books that just look so worn down and generously read and loved and I really just want to hole up in there with one of the books and a cup of coffee and just read and relax. The fact that I can relax at work, have a space to do that… It feels really good.”

“I’m really glad you’re enjoying it,” I told him. “It must be nice to be back here and have finally gotten a real job.”

“It’s been pretty great,” he nodded.

We sat down beside each other on the packed train car and eyed up the man who was in charge of three young girls sitting across from us. The man looked miserable, and the girls were using the bars a bit like a jungle gym. The man didn’t even bother to corral the girls, just looked on helplessly as they swung back and forth.

I smirked at Niall and he gave me the same look back and bumped his knee against mine.

“Have you got the song queued up?” he asked.

“Oh shirt!” I said pulling my phone out of my pocket quickly and slipping the head buds out, handing one to Niall and taking one for myself.

“Nice,” he smiled at me and we just sat there for a moment before the voiceover announced Fullerton as the next stop.

“Here we go,” I clicked play and for the next two minutes and forty seconds we sat together listening to the song. Occasionally, Niall’s knee would bump into mine and each time it happened, I’d blush and run a hand through my hair.

By the time the song ended and we arrived at Fullerton I was really rather red in the face, even with my darker complexion I was sure Niall noticed as he bid me farewell and stepped off the train.

Once he’d stepped off he threw me one last look over his shoulder and I waved, giving him a smile back before the train doors closed and I was carried off toward home where I knew I had grocery shopping and cleaning to do.

[cottonpadenthusiast]

Home

Word Count: 3434

A03: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14915576

The tension in Draco’s shoulders finally seeped away, as the smell of worn books and wood filled his nostrils. Thank Merlin for Muggle libraries, he thought, squeezing himself deeper into the old leather chair. Today had been a Bad Day. One of the worst in a while actually, and it wasn’t as if Draco’s daily life was all that great either. He had decided to venture out for food after he had realised that half a Chocolate Frog and a can of Butterbeer was the only food left in his two-bedroom apartment in London. Draco hadn’t left his house in four days, knowing that outside he would be met with hexes and curses and hatred, nothing unusual for Draco Malfoy. But this time he knew it would be worse. The Daily Prophet had published an image of a very drunk Draco making out behind a club with someone who was very much a man. And put on the front page. And used the headline, “EX-DEATH EATER, NOW ASS-EATER “. How imaginative. It wasn’t as if Draco was trying to hide his sexuality, he just wanted to tell Mother before every wizard and witch across the country knew he was gay. She had been extremely understanding of course, and Draco hated to admit the number of tears he had shed when she told him she still loved him, no matter whom he loved. If Father hadn’t died a year earlier the situation might have been slightly different, but Draco refused to think about that. Aside from the immense relief of his mother’s approval, Draco now knew that he was even more vulnerable to abuse. Abuse that he was met with immediately after entering Diagon Alley that day. Men spat at his feet, mothers steered their children away from him and not only was he now a “murderous bastard”, but a “disgusting faggot”. He didn’t even reach the shop before someone had punched him in the face; his left cheek was now a gruesome shade of purple due to the blow. Draco was used to guilt and shame and regret, but never before had he been punished for doing the only good thing in the world; loving someone.

Draco brought his thoughts back to the book he was holding in his pale hands. A Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde. It was in pristine condition (Draco hated bent spines and tattered covers) and he was over halfway through. His upbringing had prevented Draco from ever reading Muggle literature, but on a particularly stormy day a few months ago, he had run into this Muggle library, seeking shelter from the rain, but what he found was more than just a place to stay dry. This library had turned into Draco’s safe place, almost a second home. He was a nobody in here, not a criminal, or a Death Eater, just another reader, except with a slightly eccentric taste in fashion. Draco visited this library twice a week, and Marge, the elderly librarian, who always smelt of roses and rich tea biscuits, now even kept books for Draco that she thought he would like. She had recommended this particular book to Draco while providing information on Wilde’s background and “preference of men”. Draco was already enchanted with the story, while relating almost a little too much to Dorian’s wish to remain young and sinless. But Draco already had the scars. Draco wasn’t given a choice. It was too late for him.

Draco was just learning of Dorian’s desire to sell his soul when a mop of black unruly hair floated by in the corner of his eye. No. No, it couldn’t be. No way in hell. But as Draco jerked his head up to search for the blob of black between the shelves of paperbacks, piercing emerald eyes caught grey ones. You have got to be kidding me, Draco thought, as Harry Potter, the Saviour of Wizarding World, sauntered over to Draco.

Potter was wearing Muggle jeans and a white top that accentuated his broad shoulders and contrasted with his dark skin. Bloody Potter, Draco thought, tearing his eyes away from Potter’s abs. Draco swiftly set the book down and straightened himself up. Whatever insults Potter wanted to throw at him, Draco would be ready. He didn’t want to deal with Potter’s petty nonsense, today of all days. Potter finally reached Draco, looming over him with a wicked grin on his face.

“Hello, Malfoy.”

Draco glared. “What do you want, Potter?”

“Well, I was just wondering what the hell you are doing in a Muggle library,” Potter replied, his voice full of amusement.

“I could ask you the same thing. I thought only read newspaper clippings retelling your remarkable acts of heroism,” Draco retorted. He was not going to be a source of entertainment for Potter’s sick humour.

Potter snorted. “I know it may seem surprising, but I actually do enjoy books other than textbooks and biographies about my life. I was more confused about the fact that Draco Malfoy is sitting curled up in a corner of a Muggle library, reading a Muggle book.”

“People change, Potter,” Draco replied, his chin raised indignantly.

“I know,” Potter murmured softly. The gentleness made Draco look, really look, into the scarred face. The last Potter had used that voice with him, which made Draco feel warm and fuzzy inside, was over a year ago. Potter had run up to him at the start of the eighth year, his breath ragged, and thanked him for not identifying him that day in the Manor. Potter’s soft, “thank you” had been the first time Draco had felt appreciated in a long time. Those two words, from that one person, often provided Draco with a source of comfort during the dark times of that year.

Potter must have noticed the foreign look on Draco’s face as he bent over to see what book Draco was reading, snapping the blonde back to reality.

“The Picture of Dorian Gray, Oscar Wilde?” Potter’s voice was questioning but there was a hint something Draco couldn’t quite catch.

“Yes… It is a highly enjoyable read. Wilde’s wit and humour really are-” Draco stopped. Oh shit, he thought, because Draco had just realised why Potter was looking at him like that. Oscar Wilde was gay. Draco Malfoy had been outed as gay less than a week ago. He has seen it. Oh Merlin, he’s seen the Daily Prophet. Draco’s brain had gone into panic mode. Harry Potter, his childhood enemy and crush, knew he was gay and had come over here to laugh at him. And the fact Draco had been reading The Picture of Dorian Gray had not helped matters. It was like Draco had been trying to achieve the world record for, “The Gayest Man on Earth.” He needed to leave. Right. Now.

Draco mumbled a quick, “Goodbye, Potter,” before leaping out of his chair, and bolting out of the library. He would not, could not stay to watch the look of disgust on Potter’s face that would appear when Draco’s sexuality was made evident. Draco knew Harry would never feel the same. He had dealt with the turmoil and heartbreak that was involved with being in love with Harry Potter, but he was beginning to accept the unrequited love, beginning to learn to live a life without Harry Potter in it. He had faced Potter’s hatred and suspicion and loathing, but Draco would not survive if he ever saw Harry look at him in repulsion. Draco may be gay, but he did not deserve to be treated like nothing.

“Malfoy, wait! Stop!” Draco was halfway down the stone steps when Potter’s shouts reached him. He quickened his pace, the cool summer’s breeze whipping across his face.

“Please Draco. I’m not angry about you being… gay. I just want to talk.”

“Leave me alone, Potter.” Draco tried not to let his emotions show who through his voice.

“Please, Draco.”

Draco slowed to a stop and glanced over his shoulder. Potter was standing a few feet away, shifting nervously on his feet. He ran a hand through the unruly black hair.

“I’m sorry for scaring you off. I just- I think we need to talk. About everything.” The green eyes were imploring Draco to stay. He seemed genuine. Draco’s heart clenched painfully at the sight of Potter, his shirt rippling in the wind. He sighed heavily.

“Ok, Potter,” he said reluctantly. The two trudged over to the wooden bench opposite in silence. The shadow of an oak tree provided them with shelter against the sun, and the only noises were the rustling of the leaves and the whirring of cars as they drove by. Draco closed his eyes, breathing in the smell of freshly cut grass.

“I’m sorry about the Daily Prophet article.” Draco opened his eyes and turned his head to face Potter. “It’s not right what they did.”

“It’s not your fault. I should have been more careful,” Draco replied. They stared at each other, something unknown passing between them, before Draco broke the gaze and glanced ahead.

“Draco… how did you get that bruise?” Potter asked carefully.

Draco reached up to touch the sensitive skin but swiftly pulled his hand away when a sharp pain spread across his cheek. “That is none of your concern, Potter.”

“It is my concern if someone I care-,” Potter paused. “If someone I know is getting hurt.” Draco could feel the tension rising.

“Well thank you for your concern, Potter, but I am very capable of looking after myself,” Draco retorted.

“Evidently not if you’ve got that on your face. Who was it, Malfoy?” Potter demanded.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Malfoy, would you just bloody tell me!”

“Just drop it, Potter. For Merlin’s sake!”

“No. I’m not dropping it. Who was it?”

Draco spun round to face the black-haired man. “It. Was. No. One.”

“Just tell me!”

“Fine, Potter! I’ll tell you. I was walking to the shop this morning when some stranger came up and punched me in the face. And do you wanna know why? Because I like men.” Draco laughed but there was no humour in the sound. “It’s funny, isn’t it? And it’s not even the first time. But you know what is even funnier? The fact that I’m gay means that I’m not only a “criminal” but also a “vile human being”. Fucking hilarious! I wonder if my life is yet horrendous enough to make up for all the lives my family has ruined. What do you think, Potter? Do you think I can ever make up for all the shitty things I’ve done? Or am I damned to live a life I deserve? A life of suffering and guilt and hurt.” Draco stopped abruptly when he saw the horrified look on Potter’s face. He felt tears prick behind his eyes as he leant back against the wooden bench. I’m going insane, Draco thought, closing his eyes and allowing the darkness to overcome the light of the evening. How did his life end up this way? It was his own fault, he supposed. He was never brave enough to do the right thing and now he had to pay the price. A single tear fell down his cheek, but he didn’t care about Potter seeing him cry. He had lost everything, so what would it matter if he lost Potter too?

Draco heard Potter rustling in his bag, probably getting ready to leave, but he refused to open his eyes, knowing that if he did, more tears would fall. However, his eyes shot open whenever he felt warm, calloused fingers spreading a jelly-like substance on his bruised cheek. Potter was so gentle, Draco could hardly feel him rubbing the cream into his skin.

“What are you doing?” Draco croaked. He could feel Potter’s hot breath fan across his face.

“It’s Hopkins’ Bruise Paste. I always carry some since I have a tendency to knock into things.” Potter chuckled. Green eyes met grey ones, and Draco could almost feel the warmth that passed between them.

“Thank you,” Draco said softly, as Potter pulled away. He could already feel the skin begin to heal, yet he craved the warmth of those rough hands on his face again.

The sky around the two was alive, pinks and oranges and purples spread like paint strokes. Draco wished he could stay here, in this moment, with this boy forever.

“You never did tell me why you were in a Muggle library,” Harry stated, a smile toying at his lips. So Draco told him of the rain, and his refuge from it, and the sweet Marge, and the comforting solitude he found in the library. They talked, and laughed, and Draco realised how much he adored the sound of Potter’s roaring laugh, and how much more he adored it when he was the one causing it. Draco was enchanted with the way Harry’s dark skin glowed in the golden rays of the evening, and the way his hands moved with a gentleness that contrasted with his strong build. Most of all, Draco remembered why he had fallen in love with Harry Potter in the first place, and found more reasons to fall deeper in love with him.

When the sky had transformed to lilacs and purples, Harry turned to Draco and asked him tenderly, “How did you realise you were gay?”

At first, Draco was taken aback by the question. He searched the face for any signs of cruelty but found none, only genuine curiosity and something in the emerald eyes Draco couldn’t quite place. How was he meant to answer this question? He could lie and tell Harry that he had just always known, but he didn’t want to do that. He knew that Harry deserved to know the truth, whatever the consequences.

“You,” Draco whispered. He studied the pavement, not daring to meet Potter’s gaze.

“What?” Potter replied, after moments of agonizing silence.

“You. You made me realise I was gay.” Draco paused, gathering all the courage he had. “I’ve had a crush on you since fourth year, just took me a while to realise that I would much rather be kissing you, than hexing you.”

“But how? How did you hide it? Why didn’t you tell me?”

Draco sniggered. “You are hardly the most observant, Potter. I could have worn a sign saying, “I AM IN LOVE WITH HARRY POTTER,” and you still would have been as oblivious as always. And I didn’t tell you because you hated me.”

“I never hated you, Draco. Maybe disliked you, but I never hated you.” Draco could hear the sincerity in Potter’s voice. He was silent for a few moments. “It’s just-well, I think I might be…”

“Yes, Potter?”

“I think I might be bisexual.” The tremor in Harry’s voice had Draco spinning his head around.

“What?!” Now it was Draco’s turn to be shocked and utterly confused. This had to be a joke. But the terrified look on Potter’s face proved otherwise. “You are… bisexual?” Draco said questioningly.

Harry nodded.

“And I’m guessing from the look on your face that I’m the first person you have told?”

Harry nodded again.

“Ok. Well, I’m proud of you for coming out I suppose. Congratulations.” Draco was not the best at giving emotional support. It seemed enough, however, as Harry sighed heavily in relief, as if a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders. It was a stark reminder to Draco of his own reaction when he told Pansy in sixth year.

“Thank you, Draco. It means a lot,” Potter said, his voice filled with gratitude. Draco gave him a small smile in return. The two sat in a comfortable silence, words seeming unnecessary and inadequate for the emotions they were feeling.

“Wait…” Draco arched his eyebrow at Harry, waiting for him to finish.

“You said you were in love with me. When you were talking about the crush. Do you… Are you in love with me?” Potter exclaimed. Oh shit. He did not mean to say that. At all. This was not good. He had only meant to tell Harry about the crush, not the fact he was head over heels in love with him.

“Fuck, I don’t- I can’t. Shit.” Draco didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t exactly deny it.

“Are you?” Potter persisted.

“Yes! Ok? For Merlin’s sake, I’m completely in love with you. Are you happy now? Do you know how hard it is to pretend I hate you? That I don’t care about you? It is one of the hardest things I have ever had to do. And I’m sorry. I’m sorry for ruining everything. ” Draco swallowed and breathed out heavily. “Sometimes the pain of watching you hate me was worse than any Crucio.” Draco’s voice was soft. He had lost everything. Even the joyful tune of the birds did little to console his aching heart. He had never felt so alone.

He had lost everything.

Potter’s face turned serious and he inched his body closer to Draco’s crouched form.

“Like I said before, I never hated you Draco. But how do you know I wasn’t pretending too?”

Draco’s heart lurched. What? A flutter of hope rippled across his chest.

“You see, for the past few years, I’ve been convincing myself that my obsession with you was just suspicion. That I thought you were up to something.” Harry’s voice was less than a whisper. “Until last year, when you obviously were not doing anything evil, and yet I still had a strong urge to be near you all the time. It seems we were both hiding the same thing.”  

Draco stopped breathing. Harry’s face was inches from his own, and those green eyes were staring at his lips. This can’t be real, Draco thought as he gradually brought his face closer and closer to Harry’s own, until their noses were touching.

“I love you,” Harry murmured, before slamming their lips together.

Draco raked his hands through Harry’s black curls, the way he had wanted to since he was fifteen. Potter’s lips were soft and hot, sending shivers down Draco’s spine while Harry gripped his hips, pulling their bodies against each other. Although the sun was setting, Draco felt as if the sun inside his chest was beaming brighter than ever before, casting away the shadows inside his heart. Finally, Draco thought as his tongue searched Potter’s mouth. Finally, Draco thought as Harry pulled away, trailing kisses down his neck. Finally, Draco thought as he rested his head on Harry’s shoulder and felt as if he had found his way home.

Draco looked up at the stars, the constellations vivid in the clear night. His long legs were draped across Harry’s and his head tucked under Harry’s own.

“I’ve always wanted to learn the constellations,” Harry said, breaking the silence. He was looking at the stars in awe, but when he turned to face Draco his expression didn’t change.

“I could teach you, if you like.”

Harry grinned. “Really? I would love that.”

“Come to my place tomorrow at eight. Although we will have to go somewhere where there is less light pollution, if you really wanna see the constellations. Maybe we could get dinner after,” Draco suggested. He smirked as a flush spread up Harry’s cheeks.

“Yeah, I’d love to. I mean, yeah, sounds good.” Draco sniggered at how flustered Harry seemed at even the mention of a date.

Draco lifted himself up, stretching his tired muscles. “I suppose I better be on my way. A man needs his beauty sleep after all.”

Harry swiftly got on his feet, and pulled Draco into a sweet, but deep kiss. “See you tomorrow. I love you” he whispered into the blonde’s ear. Before Draco had even responded, Harry had Apparated away.

“Cocky bastard,” Draco muttered, touching his lips. He Apparated into his own living room, the warm air closing around his body and a smile still plastered on his face.

As Draco’s mind whirred with thoughts that night in bed, unable to sleep, he knew with a shocking certainty that he had found a home in Harry Potter. Not long before, he had felt he belonged nowhere, his life destined to be one of isolation and solitude. But as he closed his eyes, finally drifting off, he realised he had more than one place to call home; his cosy flat, Pansy, his mother, the Muggle library and, most recently, in the arms of Harry Potter. And he would never let anyone take these away from him, not even a stupid, magical newspaper.

Thank you for reading this. It means the world! I have never actually read, “A Picture of Dorian Gray so I feel like a bit of a fake fan, but I freaking love Oscar Wilde. He’s a gay icon for this gay month. Anyway, hope you enjoyed xxx