"You are going to have to address me at some point, you know. You can't stay angry with me forever. Granted, you have succeeded admirably these past two days."
Harry looked up from the book he was reading and quite deliberately set his glass of juice down on the side table. His foot stopped rocking the cradle next to him. He spared a glare at Draco standing in the doorway and then went back to rocking and reading.
"Harry, this is ridiculous. Fine, you're angry. I understand that. But this silent treatment is childish."
"So are you."
Draco blinked. "That's your comeback? I expected at least something a bit stronger or clever, having given you two days to think it up."
"Draco, you are an utter pig. You are a bully and a self-absorbed, manipulative, mean, autocratic, bastard!"
"That's better. You had me a bit worried there." The blond flopped down in the armchair across from Harry's and eyed the rocking cradle. "Although I believe our daughter will have a blue streak in her hair from that." Harry glared. "And I expect she'll need to get her land legs back if you don't slow down the rocking."
Harry glared harder but the cradle slowed from its violent tossing.
"I was thinking that we might take Maia up on a broom, now that you are no longer encumbered with her inside you."
"Draco, are you even going to apologize?" Harry said with an unbelieving shake of his head.
"Apologize for what? Protecting you and Maia. No, I will not be apologizing for that."
"Protecting?"
"Yes, protecting." Draco leaned forward and pierced Harry with a look. "I have every right to do so. I also have every right to identify what I believe is a threat. Just as I allowed you to avoid the ball and do anything else you believe is in the baby's interest."
"You think you are doing this in our best interest?" Harry asked in shock. "You think we're in danger?"
"I told you I didn't like that bastard," Draco said.
"But I thought it was because he was American, or not invited, or that he called you by your given name, or any other thing you might have found offensive, or even your jealousy. But you were protecting?"
"Well, he is quite repugnant for all of those reasons, but yes. In general, I don't trust him and I'm not about to let someone I don't trust around you and the baby." Draco said, not understanding why Harry looked so thunderstruck. Suddenly, Harry shut his book, tossed it down, and walked to Draco's chair. Draco was shocked when he climbed into his lap.
"I didn't know," Harry said, almost in awe. "I'm sorry. I thought you were just being a prick." And then he kissed Draco. Hard. Not questioning his luck, Draco eagerly kissed Harry back, their mouths feasting on each other. Harry's hands roamed up and down Draco's chest, finding the hardening nubs underneath, flicking and pulling at them.
Draco was in a surprised state of lust. Harry rarely initiated. He wasn't ever disagreeable to it, but it was almost always Draco who started to heat things up. But here was the brunet happily tweaking his nipples and kissing him as if he were a trained brothel worker. And after the many risqué positions and toys Draco had brought to their bed, it wasn't really a surprise he knew how to do it. A hand on his belt brought the blond's attention back to the matter at hand. Or in his lap, rather.
Harry tossed the belt on the floor and began working at the fly. Draco's hands ran up Harry's back, dragging his shirt up with it. The shirt followed the belt only seconds before Harry had his hand around Draco's quickly firming flesh. A couple of strokes with his fingers, then the brunet was slithering out of the lap and onto the floor. Draco had a moment to raise an eyebrow in surprise before the wet and kiss-reddened mouth wrapped around him. Hot heat enveloped him.
