It's kinda hard to talk right now//
The near scream of the telephone woke both blondes out of a deep sleep. Draco, on his side of the bed and closest to it, fumbled around for the receiver. When he managed to place it to his ear, he mumbled a sleepy hello. A moment later, an all-too-familiar, much beloved, and terribly missed voiced sounded and the twenty-five year old man sat up.
"Who is it?" mumbled Aida, Draco's bedmate for nearly six months now.
"Nobody, Aida," Draco assured her comfortingly and smoothed her mess of hair. "Just go back to sleep."
"Mmhmm…" she said as he rose from the bed and left the room, closing the door as quietly as he could.
He padded on bare feet into the living room and didn't speak again until he was settled on the ratty couch. He and Aida really needed to buy a new one-- He'd had this couch for ages. The blonde hated to give it up; he had too many good memories on it. As he rested his arm on the arm rest, he searched his brain for reasons that could explain this two a.m. phone call.
"Honey," said Draco gently, "Why are you calling so late?"
"I'm sorry--" began the voice at the other end. "Is this a bad time?"
"No, not really, but…It's kind of hard to talk right now, Harry."
Is everything okay?
I gotta whisper cuz I can't be too loud//
Draco heard Harry take in an unsteady breath. The blonde could almost imagine his ex counting to ten, even though he heard a whispered "seven" in his ear. Harry didn't sound angry, so if the raven-haired man was counting, it could only mean one thing: He was crying.
"Honey?" Draco asked. "Honey, why are you crying?" A million thoughts ran through his mind. Harry would never call unless something was wrong. Was he hurt? He asked his next question worriedly, wondering if he could feasibly leave in the middle of the night without Aida asking questions. "Is everything okay?"
"Yeah, it's just…I missed you." Harry let out a shaky laugh. "Actually, I missed you a lot. More than usual…You see, I dreamed about you- A nightmare actually, and when I woke up, I was upset. And I missed you then. I missed you an hour later. And I miss you now, even though I'm talking to you."
Draco closed his eyes. Oh, why was it so easy for them to say what they felt now? Dammit! He cursed hindsight and distance and a hundred other things.
Softly, he said, "I miss you now, too."
"What?" asked Harry. "I couldn't hear you."
"I miss you now, too," Draco repeated, a tiny bit louder than a moment ago and then apologized. "I have to whisper, because if I'm too loud, Aida'll wake up."
Harry was quiet, but was aching to say something, Draco could tell. Aida's name, a new name to Harry (the last name had been Isabella), but the other man wasn't surprised. It had been over a year since they'd spoken.
"What happened in the nightmare?" The blonde's whisper was even, and somehow held depth in, along with his presence. He tried to send comfort to Harry, over the miles of wires between them, comfort for a man he had spent five years of his life with.
"It wasn't a nightmare until I woke up," said Harry, crying quietly, but openly now. "You were in bed with me and I was waking you up to go to work. We kissed and then…I don't even know what happened next, okay? But, you were there and I was there and we were together. That was the important part."
"Harry…" The blonde knew the next words out of his mouth would open up a can of worms, yet he was unable to stop them. "That sounds like a dream I'd like to have," he said. "It sounds like a good dream."
"You know what the problem with dreams like that is, Draco?"
"Tell me, honey."
"Sooner or later, you have to wake up."
Draco exhaled weakly. The words felt like a punch to the gut. "I'm sorry, Harry."
"Yeah," said Harry. "So am I."
Sometimes I wish she was you//
Again, Draco let his eyelids fall over his silver-blue orbs. He leaned his head against the back of the couch, pinching the bridge of his nose. Inside his chest, his heart beat heavily. He wasn't sure what to say, and apparently, neither did Harry, because both men were silent for awhile.
A soft hand in the darkness, soothing away old hurts…Calluses running next to smooth skin…A strong back decorated with scars…Muscular arms wrapped tightly about him…A pair of green eyes deeper than the ocean… Harry.
"How have you been?" Draco asked at last.
Harry seemed to shrug over the phone. "I'm okay. On vacation right now, so I'm spending lots of time at home with Bram. I'm learning to cook."
"You cook?"
"I try."
Draco let out a small laugh. "You like spending time in the kitchen, honey?"
"It makes me think of you."
The blonde sighed. He could imagine the kitchen did make Harry think of him. In their five years together, he had done most of the cooking. But, where was all this honesty two years ago?
"Christ, Harry. Like a pick ax."
"Can I ask you a question?"
"Yeah," said Draco, worried by what Harry's next question would be.
"Do you ever think of me?"
"Yes, Harry. Of course I do."
"You miss me too?"
"Hell, yes. Why would you ask that?"
"I wanted to know."
Draco sighed. "Let me put it this way. My girlfriend of half a year is laying in bed in the next room. She's beautiful, smart- has a wicked sense of humor too. She even likes to cook."
"Sounds perfect for you," said Harry, his voice somewhat strangled.
"Yeah, just about," Draco replied. "Except, most times, I wish she was you."
And yes, I've dreamt of you too//
Once more, silence at both ends. Draco smiled and let out an almost contented groan. He heard Harry chuckle.
"All I know to say," Harry told him, almost laughing, "Is that I'm sure she has trouble being me."
"She's missing certain qualities, yes."
Harry did laugh outright then, albeit muffled. "I'm sure."
The humor seemed to lighten the tension and it was in the early days, before they'd moved in together. Draco could remember mornings much like this from the past. Often, he and Harry had stayed up late, talking on the phone and laughing. Usually, the memories made his chest tight and heavy with a love that just would not fucking die. Thing was, if he was honest with himself, he didn't want it to die. Earlier in the evening, he had dozed off on this very same couch and dreamed a memory. He'd woken with a pain and nausea. But tonight…Tonight, right now, the memory-dream only made him smile.
"It's funny that you're calling me tonight."
Harry's voice had the lilt of a smile in it. "Oh?"
"Yeah…I dreamed about you too."
A whoosh of air sounded over the phone, but no words were spoken. Draco took this as a sign to continue.
"Do you…" After a slight hesitation, the blonde continued. "Do you remember that day? When it rained so hard and the lights cut out?"
"Oh…"
"It was the middle of the summer…Usually, hot as hell. But the rain cooled it off and we opened almost every window…But not the blinds…" Draco's eyes turned a perfect shade of pale blue as he reminisced. "We lit every candle we could find and drank beer from those awful wineglasses Hermione gave us for Christmas. And then…" He swallowed, no longer able to talk.
"And then we made love on the living room floor," Harry finished.
"Yeah," Draco confirmed. "Yeah, we sure as hell did, didn't we?"
"I don't dream in memories," Harry stated abruptly.
"Never?" asked Draco, truly curious.
"I remember them, but no, I don't dream them. I more…I pick up where we left off. The way I wish it ended, the way I wish Rhett and Scarlett got together at the end."
Draco laughed. "Could you be any gayer?"
"Probably not." By Harry's voice, Draco could tell he was grinning. "But then again, I haven't ever tried to be gay. Besides, you know how I feel about that."
And indeed, Draco did. Harry had never once labeled himself gay. He was attracted to Draco, pure and simple, and now, it would appear, he was attracted to Bram…Bram? Another new name. A thought entered his brain, a question, but before he could ask, Harry was speaking again.
"You know what I think the problem is, Draco?"
"Hmm?"
"I dream about what I want life to be like now…And you dream about the good times…Right?"
"Yeah. So?"
"Maybe if we dreamed about what life was like…during the bad times…We could stop missing one another."
Will it start a fight?
No, I don't think she has a clue//
"That hurts, Harry."
"Harsh, wasn't it? But it's true, Draco. Don't tell me you don't remember the bad times."
Draco didn't speak. Harry was right. The bad times had been every bit as bad as the good times had been good. Toward the end, the good times were more than few and far between-- They were practically nonexistent.
Finally, Draco said, "Yes. I remember the bad times, Harry." He paused, and then let out a soft breath. "Thing is, I always thought if we both got our shit together, somehow we could make it work."
"I don't even know what shit we needed to get together," said Harry.
"I don't know what went wrong either."
"You can't fix something if you can't find the problem."
"You think about this a lot don't you?"
"It's obvious, isn't it?" asked Harry, then continued with, "Yes. I do. I wonder when our fate was sealed. Was it the day I made you go to dinner alone with your parents?"
"…Or was it the day I stopped calling when I headed home from work? I wonder about it too." Then, the word 'wonder' brought Draco's question to the front of his mind again. "Does he know you're talking to me? I mean, will it start a fight?"
"I don't think it will," said Harry, meaning quite obviously No, he doesn't know and I don't have the slightest intention or inclination to tell him.
Draco chuckled. Harry was a master at lying by omission.
"Does Aida know you wish she was me? I know you told her I was nobody when I called."
"No," Draco told him. "She doesn't know. I don't think she has a clue."
It sounds so sweet coming from the lips of an angel//
"You were always good at hiding things, Draco. Maybe too good."
Draco grinned. "Yeah, probably."
Harry sighed, but there was mirth in the sound. "Draco, Draco. What will the world ever do with you?"
"I don't know, but I do know that your voice saying my name again is the sweetest thing I've heard in six months."
It makes me weak//
"I don't think Bram has a clue either. I think he knows we still talk, but I don't think he knows."
"Knows what, honey?"
Harry cleared his throat, and Draco heard him shift positions. A beat and then, "I don't think he knows…That I still love you, Draco."
Draco's heart did a dance of joy while the blonde's stomach plummeted fifteen stories in two seconds. He leaned over to place his head between his legs, an attempt to make the room stop spinning, the way it suddenly was.
"Oh…" breathed Draco. "Harry, I…"
"I know…I mean, you moved onto girls, right? You chase skirts now."
"Girls have a better chance with me now. No man could ever take your place," Draco squeezed out of his throat. "And girls can never make the grade, they're just better company. But goddamn you, Harry, for saying you still love me and saying I 'chase skirts' because…"
"Because why?"
He groaned, pulling at his hair, trying to relieve the pressure in his chest. "Those words, hearing what I've dreamed of you saying again for so long, it makes me weak. It makes me sick and strong all at once." He didn't say it back, couldn't. Draco wasn't worried; he had the feeling Harry understood.
But girl you make it hard to be faithful
With the lips of angel//
Draco glanced across the room to the VCR's clock. It was almost three-thirty in the morning.
"We should probably get off the phone," he said.
"I ruined it, didn't I?" asked Harry. "I only wanted to tell you the truth."
"You didn't ruin anything," said Draco. "I never want to say goodbye. I want this conversation to last the rest of my life. But damn, Harry."
"But what?….But what Draco?"
"You make it hard to be faithful."
"You always were faithful."
"You called me a dog there toward the end. I guess I decided to be a better mutt."
"Draco, I'm sorry for the things I-"
"I'm sorry too, for everything I-"
Both men paused. Too many words left unsaid for too long. A day late and a dollar short.
"Well, goodnight Harry."
"Yeah…" said Harry, and Draco could hear the tears in voice. "Good night, Draco."
Click.
Dial tone.
Draco laid his head and his hands and as silently as he could, began to sob.
"Hello?"
Harry's voice was groggy. The alarm clock's bright red numbers read out four-fifteen.
"Harry?" The familiar voice caused Harry's heart to miss a beat.
"Draco? Honey, why are you calling me so late?" Harry sat up in bed.
"I couldn't wait another second. Did I wake up Bram?"
"No," said the tousled raven-head. He glanced to the empty side of the bed. "Bram and I split up a few days after our conversation two months ago."
"I'm sorry."
"I'm not."
A beat passed between the two men.
"I'd really love to see you," said Draco at last.
"Sure," said Harry, feeling enthusiastic for the first time in over two years. "When?"
"Right now. Can you come open your front door? It's freezing outside."
Harry stared at the phone for a moment and then hung it up. He rushed to the front door and opened it. Live and in the flesh was Draco, who walked in and shut the door behind himself. The two men regarded each other with new eyes, eyes that hadn't seen each other for years.
"What are you doing here?" asked Harry.
"I'm coming to get back what I lost," said Draco. "I'm no good without you and you're not good without me. I want us to get back together. I found a good counselor and I want us to hash through whatever made us split in the first place. I want to cook for you again and I want you to wake me up in the morning for work. I want us to be us again, the way we were meant to be." He paused, breathing heavily and shaking hard. "I want you to take me back. Please." He took in a breath. "Will you? Please, Harry, will you be mine again?"
"Yes."
The absence of hesitation sealed the deal. They both stepped forward at the same time. Arms slipped around shoulders and waists. Two foreheads pressed together. Two whispered Iloveyous. The two men waited a moment, letting themselves revel in the sensation of being together again.
And then, Draco pressed his mouth against the lips of an angel.
* * * *
A/N: Okay, here's my longish author's note...This is my first new ficlet in almost a year. You see, I had a WIP in progress that I was working on that hopefully, I'll be able to begin posting soon. My younger sister (non-biological --only child) broke my heart toward the end of July, beginning of August because she disowned me, decided I wasn't a good enough person to be her friend. I have had chronic Writer's Block ever since. This is the first full-length story I have been able to complete since that time. It would mean more than any of you reading could ever possibly know if everyone of you would review and tell me what your honest opinion is. Feedback I think is most critical. I thank you in advance.
Love, Pri