Harry chuckled when he walked into his bedroom after coming home from work.
Draco was sitting on the bed, cross-legged and completely at ease. Books were lying all around him in various states of disarray and his hair was mussed up as if he'd been running his fingers through it repeatedly.
Everything about the scene was endearing to Harry, but the one thing that never failed to make his heart beat faster was Draco wearing his clothes, especially his Weasley jumpers.
Harry felt like Draco wearing them integrated him even more into his life and he loved seeing Draco in the alarming shade of orange with the big, green 'H' on it (courtesy of Molly the year before). Even though they'd been dating for three years, he was still overcome with the sense of wonder at Draco's presence in his life.
At the sound of his laughter, Draco looked up with a small crease appearing between his brows.
Draco relaxed visibly when he saw Harry standing in the doorway and smiled, leafing through one of his books.
“Something funny, Potter?”
Harry shook his head softly and started taking his jacket off.
“No,” he mumbled, amusement clear in his voice.
“No,” Draco parroted back at him mockingly.
Harry's head snapped back up at the tone and mischief twinkled in his eye when he walked towards his partner.
“Let's see how cocky you are when you're coming to the Burrow for Christmas this year.”
That shut Draco up. In fact, it did not only seem to shut him up, but he started squirming.
“Do I really have to?”
Harry said nothing and gently shoved a few books off his side of the bed to lie down.
He knew that Draco was on the fence about going to the Burrow. He hadn't seen any of the Weasley's since the two of them had gotten together and Harry – and Ron, Hermione and the rest of the family for that matter – thought that his behaviour was absolutely ridiculous.
In the end, it was Ron's heartfelt invitation (“Just come for Christmas, you idiot ferret. If Harry likes you enough to share a bed with you, that more than qualifies you for joining the Christmas madness.”) that finally made him agree to come. Harry didn’t actually know who was more nervous about their first Christmas together - him or Draco. Until then, he’d kept his family and his partner separate but he was desperate for them to become one entity. For Draco to become his family.
If he was being honest though, he was a little scared that Draco either wouldn’t like the bustling warm Burrow that came with so many cousins that even Harry lost count sometimes, or that the Weasley’s wouldn’t like his boyfriend.
Without realising it, he ground his teeth together in nervousness.
“Relax,” Draco’s voice cut through his thoughts.
“It’s going to be fine. I am going to behave.”
Harry smiled but didn’t look at Draco.
“I know it will, everybody is going to love you.”
On December 31st, Harry stopped in his tracks when he walked past their bedroom door.
“What the fuck are you wearing?” he asked, a little too irritated to his own ears and immediately smiled to cover his tone up.
Draco’s gaze snapped up to meet Harry’s and then down his own front to tug at the emerald green jumper with a red ‘D’ on it.
“Er, my Christmas sweater?” he shot Harry a quizzical look.
Harry blinked. When Draco had received the package from Molly, Harry thought he might cry. Nothing shouted being accepted to the family as much as a self-knit jumper by her after all. Now though? Seeing Draco lounging about in his own jumper instead of Harry’s? He didn’t like it.
Harry ground his teeth and shook his head.
“Nevermind, I just… uhm, nevermind.”
Draco got up from the bed and made his way over to Harry, the wool hanging off of him in every direction as it could accommodate Draco’s body at least three times.
“Do you not want me to wear it?” he asked and Harry was horrified to detect a note of hurt in his partner’s voice.
“No, of course I want you to wear it,” he said quickly, running his hands nervously through his hair.
“I just quite like seeing you in… mine,” he mumbled, his cheeks reddening slightly. Even after three years, admissions like these hadn’t gotten any easier for Harry.
When he finally looked back at Draco, his boyfriend was searching his face intently.
“Will you wear mine if I wear yours?” he asked after what seemed like a moment of consideration.
Harry nodded eagerly, already thinking about putting the piece of clothing on himself. Looking at himself in the mirror and seeing the giant ‘D’ on it, knowing who the jumper belonged to, who he belonged to.
“Yes,” he breathed. He would like nothing more than to articulate what sharing their clothes meant to him, that it made him feel like he belonged. But he couldn’t, his throat just wouldn’t let the words through.
Draco nodded sincerely before a small smile formed on his face.
“I cannot wait to see you in it,” he full on grinned.
And in that moment, Harry knew that he didn’t need words because Draco would understand. Like he’d always understood, even when both of them pretended like they didn’t.
Harry leaned forward and crashed their lips together in the only way he knew how to express the intense feelings that he sometimes feared he’d someday drown in. All the love he held for Draco. The safety he felt with him, the challenge, the tenderness.
“I love you, Draco Malfoy,” he whispered against Draco’s lips without ever opening his eyes.
He heard Draco chuckle before he felt his hands in his hair, insistently tugging.
“I love you, too, you sappy idiot,” he mumbled and tightened his grip.
“I would love you even more if we were doing this in a more… horizontal position, though.”
And of course, Harry loved the moments neither of them required a jumper, too.