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Warm in Your Embrace

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Draco’s heart jumps into his throat as Harry breaks through the ice and disappears into the frozen lake. He acts immediately and casts the spell to pull Harry from the water.

Harry is underwater for less than two minutes, yet it feels so much longer. Time seems to stretch on impossibly long as Draco concentrates on bringing Harry to safety.

Once Harry is safely out, Draco feels able to breathe again, but a bone-deep chill has consumed Harry, and Draco is forced into action again.

He casts a warming spell, but it isn’t enough to cut through the hypothermia. The wet clothes are no help -- the winter chill cuts right through them.

Draco could use a drying spell, but they don't work fast enough. It’s more efficient to get Harry inside and out of his wet clothes first, then they can focus on getting him warm.

Draco grabs hold of Harry and Apparates them directly into his rooms at Malfoy Manor. He releases him just long enough so they can regain their balance, then he latches onto Harry’s arm and drags him towards the ensuite.

Harry is wet from head to toe, his wild hair lies flat against his head. He’s shivering violently, lips gone blue from the cold. Water drips steadily from his Auror uniform onto the plush rug under their feet and seeps through to the hardwood floor below.

“I know the Manor isn’t your favorite place, but it was the first place that came to mind under the circumstances -- circumstances which are entirely your fault, I might remind you.”

“S’fine,” Harry nods, quivering from the cold.

Draco is furious -- seething mad at the unnecessary risks that Harry frequently takes.

“I swear, Potter, one of these days your Gryffindor heroics are going to get you killed.”

Harry stopped being Potter a long time ago, but when Harry does something especially stupid, Draco finds himself slipping back into calling him by his surname. It’s an old habit that he can’t seem to break.

Draco reaches out to touch him, concerned to find Harry shaking hard and still positively frigid to the touch. His body temperature isn’t recovering after being submerged in the icy water.

“Quick, get this off.” Draco tugs at Harry’s Auror robes as he heads for the bathroom. “I’ll start the water.”

“Uh huh,” Harry stammers, as he fiddles with the buttons of his uniform.

Draco turns the shower on warm, but not too hot. When he returns, he finds Harry still struggling with his outer robes.

“Dammit, Harry, what were you thinking?” Draco runs his hands through his hair. “You could have been killed.”

He forces himself not to think about what could have happened and lets his fear fuel his anger instead. “Bloody idiot.”

“I, the… um…” Harry can’t even form a complete sentence in his current state.

Draco pulls his wand and makes quick work of the buttons on Harry’s robes.

“Nevermind,” he grumbles as he yanks the heavy material away from Harry’s skin and drops it on the floor to be dealt with later. “Let’s just focus on getting you out of these clothes.”

“I can think of lots…” Harry says slowly, still shivering, “...of people in the department who wish you’d say that to them,”

“Very funny.” Draco attempts to suppress the little grin he feels tugging at the corner of his mouth. ”I should think that people who can’t undo buttons shouldn’t give such sass.”

“You know it’s true,” Harry says, teeth clattering.

“Of course it’s true,” Draco scoffs. “Now, shut up, and take off your shirt. You’re still bloody freezing. We’ve got to get you warm.”

Harry’s fingers fumble over the top button of his dress shirt, struggling with the small buttons. The white material clings to him, nicely complimenting his defined abs and showing off his peaked nipples. Draco averts his eyes and focuses on the task at hand.

He shoves Harry’s hands away, and deftly undoes the buttons himself -- first down Harry's chest, then at his cuffs. He pushes the long-sleeved shirt off Harry’s broad shoulders, letting it slip down his arms to join the pile of wet clothes gathering on the floor at their feet.

“The water’s ready. Can you get out of your trousers yourself?” Draco asks, as he ushers Harry into the steam-filled bathroom and towards the shower.

“Um, sure, yeah.”

Harry reaches for his waistband and Draco’s eyes track his movement.

“But are you really going to stand there and watch me strip completely naked?”

“Yes, actually.” Draco shoots him a pointed look. “I’m not leaving you until I know that your body temperature has gone back to normal. Besides, it’s not the first time I’ve seen you naked, Harry.”

“Does everyone you’ve seen naked get such special treatment,” Harry asks, his teeth still chattering, “or is it just me?”

“I guess you’re just lucky.”

“Did you say something about getting lucky?” Harry quips.

“You wish. Now come on, you idiot, before you freeze to death. If you die, I swear I’ll kill you. You of all people should know that I have neither the time nor the patience to train a new partner.”

“That’s definitely true -- especially the lack of patience.” Harry rubs his hands together, blowing warm breath over his frozen fingers.

“Don’t get cheeky, Potter.” Draco motions at Harry’s trousers. “Off. Now. Unless you need help with those, too?”

“I think I can manage to take off my own trousers.” Harry rolls his eyes.

“Are you sure about that?” Draco watches as Harry tugs helplessly at the button with numb fingers.

“Oh, for Salazar’s sake!” Draco steps closer.

Harry looks up as Draco moves towards him.

“Here. Let me.” Draco feels a spike of desire as he steps into Harry’s space. He hopes Harry doesn’t notice his hands are shaking as he reaches for him.

He keeps his eyes on Harry’s face, not daring to look lower as he slowly undoes the button and lowers the zip on his trousers. The room feels too small all of a sudden. Draco tries not to think about the unspoken tension that fills the room as he lets the trousers fall to the bathroom floor.

He takes Harry’s freezing hands in his, squeezing them, hoping to impart some of his own warmth. Harry squeezes Draco’s hands back and Draco has a sudden urge to pull him close.

Instead, he pushes down his traitorous thoughts and chastises himself for even considering such feelings while his partner is half-dead with hypothermia.

“Now,” Draco says breathlessly, nudging Harry towards the shower. “In you go.”

Harry turns and somehow manages to wriggle out of his pants. If Draco stares at Harry’s bare arse and shapely, thick thighs as he steps into the water, no one ever has to know.

“Wait --” Just as Draco’s about to close the shower door, Harry catches Draco’s hand again. “Draco?”

“Yes, Harry?” Draco asks, unsure where this is going.

“Will you join me?”

“I said you were lucky -- not that you were going to get lucky, remember?” Draco slips easily into their normal banter, but the joke falls flat under Harry’s intense gaze.

“Please?” Harry asks again. He sounds so sincere and the way he stares at Draco with a look of pure want shakes Draco to the core. There’s a hint of desperation there -- like he thinks Draco will say no, like he doesn’t realize that Draco could never refuse him.

“Okay.”

“Really?”

“Just let me get undressed.” Draco points Harry towards the warmth of the shower again. “You go on in and start warming up.”

Harry smiles, turns, and finally slips under the stream of water.

Draco unfastens his cloak, He reverently runs his fingers over the DMLE patch on his chest.

Auror Partners share a bond unlike anything Draco ever thought he would experience… let alone have with Harry Potter. They’ve worked together for five years now, and they’ve grown to trust and respect one another -- but this is all new territory. His partnership with Harry has already been more than he could have ever hoped for. He hasn’t dared to wish for more, yet here he is, standing naked in his bathroom, preparing himself to join Harry in the shower.

Carefully and meticulously, Draco removes each piece of his uniform. He uses his wand to cast cleaning and folding charms, then Levitates the clothes into his bedroom to rest atop his dresser.

Finally he reopens the shower door and slides in behind Harry.

Harry turns and greets him with a smile. Draco reaches out to touch him, surprised by the chill still clinging to Harry’s soft skin.

“You’re still much too cold,” he says.

Harry takes a step closer. “Why don’t you warm me up then?”

“Are you really doing this right now? While you’re still shivering?”

“No time like the present.” Harry grins, then wraps his arms around Draco and pulls him close.

Draco shoves him further under the warm stream of water. Steam floats up all around them as he reaches to adjust the temperature to an even warmer setting.

He takes advantage of their close position, pressing his body to Harry’s, hoping to share some of his own body heat.

Draco’s hands glide over Harry’s back in determined strokes, vigorously rubbing at his skin, trying to force even more warmth into him.

Harry occupies himself with wandering hands of his own, and Draco feels him caress the dip in his spine, just above his arse.

“Do you want to know what was going through my mind when I fell into that lake?”

“What?” Draco's still distracted by his attempt to rub more warmth into Harry’s icy-cold skin.

“I thought that I didn’t want to die before I got a chance to kiss you.”

Harry leans in, and Draco feels Harry’s lips gently press against his own. It starts slow, chaste, and lingering. Draco draws back, gasping in a breath before he pushes forward and Harry’s lips part under the pressure. He groans at the first slide of Harry’s tongue; his mouth is hot even if the rest of him is cold.

Draco jerks his hips forward, his hands roaming, touching Harry all over. Their dicks briefly brush against one another and Harry moans into his mouth. It’s everything Draco wants and at the same time not nearly enough .

Harry puts his hands to Draco’s sides, gripping him as their bodies press together from head to toe. Their cocks are completely lined up -- the perfect position for rutting against one another.

Draco grabs Harry’s pert arse and he feels the muscles flex under his hands as Harry thrusts against him with the perfect amount of friction. Harry grips Draco’s hips hard enough to bruise and they move under the warm spray of the shower, kissing and sliding their wet, slick cocks against each other until Draco can’t think -- can’t breathe.

Harry stops the movement of his hips. He pulls away from the kiss and just stares at Draco. He’s wide-eyed, pupils blown within bright green eyes, and for a moment, Draco worries.

“Is this okay?” he asks.

Harry nods. “I just... “ He looks pained. “Are you sure about this, Draco?”

“Of course I’m sure. Have I done anything to make you doubt that?”

“No, I -- I’ve just wanted this for a long time,” Harry admits. “I don’t want to mess it up -- mess us up.”

“Then, let me make my stance very clear for you --”

Draco crashes their lips together again and Harry meets him with shared enthusiasm. They kiss frantically and Draco rolls his hips against Harry as the shower rains down on them.

When they break apart again, panting for air, their eyes meet.

Draco places his hand on Harry’s cheek. “I want this too, Harry. I want everything you’re willing to give me.”

“Then it seems we want the same thing.” Harry draws him near again and Draco rocks against him. The friction sends a wave of pleasure up Draco’s spine.

Harry runs his hands down Draco’s back, his fingers sliding between Draco’s cheeks. Draco feels them circling his hole, teasing over his rim with barely-there pressure, and rubbing against him with small, teasing movements. One finger barely slips inside and Draco thrusts back for more.

“Please,” Draco begs, lost in pleasure.

When Harry presses against Draco’s prostate, it takes him by surprise. His spine arches and he fists his hands in Harry’s hair as his orgasm bursts out of him. He pants into Harry’s mouth as hot spurts spill between them and he covers Harry’s stomach with his release.

Draco’s still reeling when Harry spins him around. He bends Draco over -- leaning him against the shower wall -- and slides his cock smoothly between Draco’s legs. Draco tightens his thighs around him as Harry fucks his dick between them. With each slow and measured thrust, he nudges up against the underside of Draco’s balls.

“Fuck,” Harry groans. “You feel perfect. I want to do everything with you. I never want this to end.”

“Me either,” Draco agrees. “There’s so much more I want to do with you. This doesn’t end here. I want so much more.” He reaches back to grab Harry’s arse again, guiding his thrusts until Harry climaxes. He moans loud and long as he paints Draco’s thighs and balls with come.

Draco turns and kisses him again, slow and deep. Eventually they pull apart to wash up.

They spend a few more minutes under the warm spray, sharing small sweet kisses until Draco deems Harry warm enough to exit the shower.

“Come to bed?” Draco asks. He steps out of the shower and passes Harry a fluffy, green towel. “I’ve heard that shared body heat is very effective.”

Harry runs the towel over his head, ruffling his hair. “I think I’ve heard something like that as well.” A smile tugs at his mouth as he leans in to kiss Draco.

They dry themselves quickly. Harry wraps his towel around his waist and Draco drags him to the bed.

He arranges them both under the covers. Fingers entwined with Harry’s he sinks down, nestled in the luxurious comfort of his four-poster bed. They lean close to one another and drink the two steaming mugs of tea, provided courtesy of the Manor House Elves.

When they’ve both finished their tea, Draco pulls Harry closer, tucking him further under the covers and against his own chest. Harry is much warmer now, but he’s still too chilly for Draco’s liking.

“I can’t believe after all that, you’re still cold.” He tightens his arms, wraps himself around Harry, and tangles their legs together. He wants to be closer -- to touch him at every point possible. He lies there for what feels like hours, pressed close to Harry, sharing warmth.

Finally satisfied that Harry’s body is once again regulating itself, Draco drifts off to sleep, warm in Harry’s embrace.

When he wakes, Harry is a furnace beside him, snoring lightly, wrapped in his arms.

Nose buried in Harry’s nape, he takes a deep breath. It smells of home and tea and feels like perfection.