Muggle Technology and Heroism

TommyLane

Chapters: 16/16 Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter Characters: Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, Pansy Parkinson Additional Tags: Slow Burn, Roommates, Pining, Squirt Gun Fights, James Bond Fanboy!Draco Malfoy, Sharing a Bed, Explicit Sexual Content, Drinking and Dancing, A Five Step Plan of Seduction, A Mysterious Absence Of Plot Outside Of Their Relationship, Dialogue Heavy, Angst and Humor Summary:

Draco Malfoy wasn’t exactly the best roommate Harry’s ever had. The man tended to watch way too much James Bond and his obsession with muggle technology not only rivaled Arthur Weasley’s but more often than not ended with Harry trying to assure him that the appliances weren’t out to get him. Then there was the little fact that Harry was hopelessly in love with him while Draco remained completely unaware, bringing nameless men home night after night.

But Harry loved his life and was somewhat (as long as he doesn’t actually think about it) content enough in the way things were going. That is until Draco’s old boyfriend comes sweeping back into town – making Draco breakfast and fixing the remote control before Harry can and forcing him to realize that if he doesn’t do something soon, that he might lose the man he loves before he even gets a chance to ever actually have him.

Excerpt:  

It was odd to think that maybe he had learned the most about the other man by watching him watch James Bond. Learned the most by the things he purchased and how he used them to relate to Harry… “Draco, the thing is…you’re a bit difficult to understand, you know. You always have been, you were always good at keeping me guessing. Even when we were young, but I think it’s worse now. Harder…to really know what you’re thinking.” Draco frowned at his drink, a deep line carved into his forehead. “It’s called having decorum Potter.” Harry shrugged. “Maybe. Or maybe you just don’t know how to say what you’re thinking…what your feeling.” The blonde shifted before pulling his bottom lip between his teeth for a second, a muscle in his jaw twitching. “Is this about me fucking around again? Your odd roundabout way of telling me I’m a slut with some sort of emotional complex?” “No.” “Good. I don’t much care for that word.” “Slut?” “Complex, makes me think of fucking shrinks and their idiot views on the way my mind turns.” Draco flicked the cap he had been rolling absentmindedly between his fingers into the grass, a sneer on his lips that hinted that maybe there had been psychiatrists in his past - making him lay on leather couches and trying to analyze him as he glared and told them to fuck off in a number of different languages. The mental image lurched both painful and humorous in his stomach, a small smile contending on his lips as he pictured a younger Draco with his snarky mouth and petulant air. He never would have put himself in therapy, it had to have been a part of his parole after the war. God, Harry almost felt sorry for the men and women who had been assigned to his case. But he was getting sidetracked with his hands sweating against his leg, his heart pounding in his chest, and he needed to stop mentally stalling and gather his courage and do what he should have done days ago. Weeks ago. Months ago. Years ago… He fidgeted as he fingered the bottle and cleared his throat. “Well in any case I’m not talking about all the men. Or about Ethan. I’m talking about you and…and me.” Draco silently shifted his gaze to meet Harry’s, his lips wet from the beer and his eyes heavy, his jaw sliding forward like he was physically blocking his mouth from forming any audible words. He looked determined and lost, confused and uncertain all at the same time. Harry smiled softly, his fingers reaching to lightly touch Draco’s jaw, his courage pumping stronger, pulling him deeper when the other man didn’t pull away - didn’t even look away, not for a second, his gray eyes darkening and drowning out the sound of nature around them. “Harry -” His voice quivered with uncertainly, his eyes darting down as Harry brushed his thumb along the outer swell of the other man’s bottom lip. “I still remember where we were when things changed for me. We were at Pansy’s, I think it was her birthday and you were wearing those navy robes -” “I don’t wear navy.” Draco interjected and Harry grinned as he felt his body tip nearer, his blood pumping hot through his veins and in his ears and he wondered if Draco could hear it. If he could hear the beat of his heart, the thrum in his blood. He wondered if Draco felt it rushing through his own body in a matching rush of nerves and excited anticipation. They were a match in so many things, opposites in everything else, aligning perfectly, complementing wonderfully. Where Harry lacked Draco stood strong and the same was true for the other way around….and in this, Merlin, Harry could only pray they matched. “You did. They were new, you kept tugging at the sleeve when you thought no one was looking and you unbuttoned the top collar as we were talking. You were complaining about the increased price of Chinese chomping cabbage.” The sun had been shining hot, Draco’s face had been flushed a lovely pink, his tone an exasperated huff as he batted at invisible insects and tried to not pull on the collar of his robes that Harry was pretty sure had been a gift from someone. The back garden had been crowded with few people he knew and dozens that Draco did but still the blonde sequestered himself against a tree and chose to lament his potion sells because of the damn fucking cabbage to Harry. They had ended up drinking too much and Draco had smiled sloppily over at him as they snuck round the house and into the wine cellar - where Draco preceded to unburden Pansy’s family of various bottles of prestigious vintage. It was the night Draco vowed to turn Harry into a wine aficionado (or at least not such of an uncultured plebeian who thought wine from a box was quite good). The night Harry had tasted his first Merlot that he actually liked and the night he had shown Draco his first film (Dr. No…which in hindsight probably wasn’t the wisest move). The night he finally admitted to himself as he listened to Draco huff and rant and swat at flies that he had fallen for the other man. “Chomping cabbage?” Draco murmured and Harry could have sworn that the other man’s breath was a little shallower, his cheeks just a little pinker. “That…that was years ago.” Harry nodded and lifted his gaze from Draco’s lips to his eyes. “Yes.” Draco sucked in a breath and blinked quickly, the sun sinking beneath the horizon in one last splash of dying color around them. “You’re being rather enigmatic, Potter. It’s highly unnerving.” He whispered. “No, it’s simply really.” Harry leaned closer as he repeated his words from earlier at the tailors, his thumb brushing along the blondes jaw before slipping his hand down to curve possessively around the back of the man’s neck. He tipped his head, bringing them close enough that their breath mingled and warmed the space between them as he visually traced the sharp angles of his cheeks, the slightly parted fullness of his lips, his impossible gray eyes - the flecks of blue and gold bright up close. “Don’t be with Ethan. Because things have changed. For a long time…I’ve wanted…” He trailed off and swallowed, his courage faltering even though there was no turning back - not with his hand holding his face, his gaze full of the words that weren’t coming off his tongue but with the half confession ringing loud and clear between them anyway. Not with their lips nearly brushing and Draco’s eyelashes fluttering like he couldn’t decide if he should close them or stare wide eyed at him until he inevitably went crossed eyed. “What do you want?” Draco breathed and there was nothing hard or needled about his tone - his voice flayed open and making Harry’s heart constrict as something fluttered in his stomach. “You know. You have to know already…” He murmured in a breathy gush that pushed out of him and before he could ruin it with his own fumbling stutters, Harry breathed deep and did what he’d been dying to do for years now - he leaned in and kissed him, slanting his lips over Draco’s whose parted in a breath of surprise that got muffled and lost inside him. He distantly heard and felt Draco’s drink clatter to the ground as his grip slipped and spilled beer over the ground, his pale hand pressing flat against Harry’s chest like he was going to push him away for all but a moment before his fingers curled tight into his shirt - scratching his skin and heightening his senses further. Using his free hand, Harry’s fingers found their way into Draco’s hair, twisting in the silky locks and pulling gently, his mouth opening wider as Draco’s nails sank deeper, his heart soaring with the feel and taste and reality that he wasn’t being shoved away. He pressed closer, savored Draco’s quiet gasp, his tongue sneaking out to press against his as he kissed him harder, deeper, closer - his hands trying to tug him ever nearer as Draco let out a strangled broken sound. “Harry…” He whispered in a dizzy sort of manner, his hand that wasn’t squished between them coming up to rest tentatively against Harry’s cheek - first one finger, then two, the third tapping in an offbeat rhythm. Trembling. “Don’t be with him. Or anyone else.” Harry muttered between kisses with Draco’s eyes squeezed tightly closed, his lashes dusting his cheeks. “Be with me.” There were more words on his tongue, things that needed to be said, that needed to be made clear, but the man’s lips were like a drug and he was instantly addicted - every nerve in his body catching fire as the other man tensed, let out another soft sound that cracked in the middle, and pressed closer on his own accord. Kissing him. Draco Malfoy was kissing him and for once Harry wasn’t dreaming.

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