Harry sleeps fitfully, waking up from jumbled dreams filled with images of Draco looming over him and phantom touches, flashing hot when the slightest touch wakes up his dick again and panting in frustration when he wills it to go down. But it's okay, because every time, Draco is there. Either wrapped around him, or only inches away, rolling over immediately to thread her fingers through his, kiss the everlasting flush on his cheeks and whisper sweet nothings to him that he won't remember the next time he wakes up. 