Harry woke up wincing.
Having spent the vast majority of his life sleeping alone, at some point in the night his body had rejected the presence surrounding him and moved away. Or tried to. At the same time, his body had recognized the warmth as Draco and tried to cuddle closer. As a result, Harry's legs were intertwined with Draco's and one hand was trapped between the mattress and Draco's stomach. His torso was twisted painfully, his head and left hand over the side of the mattress and nearly grazing the floor, his blood undecided over whether or not it should pool in his head or his groin. Harry opened his eyes, analyzed the aches in his body, and groaned.
Draco twitched in his sleep. With an irritated sleepy mumble he reached out and gripped Harry under his left arm and hauled him back onto the bed; shifting onto his back as Harry found himself slightly dizzy and draped across Draco's chest. He thought about protesting, moving, doing something other than simply lying there; but then Draco's arm wrapped possessively around his waist. "Stop moving you cheese head," he grumbled; "it's too early to wake up." Harry relaxed instantly when a hand came down and began rubbing the back of his neck, and promptly went back to sleep.
The second time, Harry woke up slowly. Regaining consciousness before he acknowledged he was. With his eyes still closed, he gradually became aware of the soft cloth of the pillow under his head, the silky warmth under the palm of his hand, the thick inviting aroma of coffee and sugar, and the strong arms wrapped around him; one behind his neck and one on his thigh just below his bum. Green eyes flew wide open as consciousness slammed into him with a bang. He was in bed. With Draco. In bed with Draco Malfoy. And while his mind may have been relaxed and sleepy, his body processed that information in less than a second and came awake with a vengeance.
Bug. Ger.
It was painful, Harry decided, to squash that impulsive Gryffindor nature burning inside him that made him want to leap out of bed and run shrieking out the door and to the relative safety of the tower. But he forced himself to think, to relax his tense muscles, to bite his lip until he nearly screamed in order to choke back a moan as Draco shifted slightly in his sleep. Forcing himself to take slow deep breaths, he analyzed his situation. His pillow wasn't a pillow, it was Draco. Harry closed his eyes and very nearly whimpered as he realized his head was tucked into the crook of Draco's neck, and the silky warmth under his palm was the flesh on Draco's ribcage; since, apparently, his traitorous body hated him and had slid his hand under Draco's shirt in the night without informing his brain.
Slowly, so slowly, Harry slid his hand down Draco's chest to extract his hand. It was great that they loved each other and were comfortable enough around each other to share a bed, but Harry was certainly not ready for stupid things like reality to intrude upon their happy little bubble. His hair was worse than usual in the morning, his mouth felt like he had recently swallowed a dirty sock, his skin smelt like – he sniffed cautiously – musk and sweat and fabric softener. Draco, he noted, smelled amazing. That bastard. Harry jerked his head out of Draco's neck, utterly mortified at the way he had been sniffing the blond. Sniffing! What the f*ck was wrong with him?!
Cautiously, keeping his pelvis from coming in contact with any part of Draco's body, he managed to untangle their limbs and slide slowly out of bed. Finally standing, he heaved a quiet sigh of relief that Draco slept on unaware, and turned to go to the bathroom. Pansy was sitting propped up against the headboard of Harry's bed holding a cup of coffee and smirking. "That," she began, pausing to take a delicate sip, "was hand's down the most entertaining thing I have ever witnessed."
"Really Harry." Hermione shook her head, exchanging amused glances with Pansy from the safety of Blaise's bed. "Nocturnal penile tumescence is a perfectly healthy physiological response that most men experience." She grinned, taking a sip of her own coffee. "Most researchers believe it is a result of REM sleep." She smiled innocently. "I really think Draco wouldn't mind knowing you had sweet dreams while in bed with him."
