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Draco Malfoy had a very particular dream once. A dream about a boy draped on top of him.In the dream, their bodies were naked and they were completely, beautifully at ease. Their legs were entangled, their chests and tummies flush against each other, and the boy had his palm pressed against his cheek as he stared down at Draco, elbow sinking into the bed.It was one of those dreams that you feel deep within your skin — the kind that take a few minutes to wake up from. The kind that make you perfectly aware of every single little movement, every blink, and every smile.They were looking at each other. Nothing else happened, so it really shouldn't have been interesting. But Draco Malfoy found himself lost in it — in the creases and indents and the infinite green of the irises he was locking eyes with; in the soft, easy smile that ever so gently pulled at the corner of those plump lips; in the solitary mole right above that sharp cheekbone.He found himself lost in the gentle press of fingers against his temple, tracing the shape of his jaw, feeling the softness of his cheek, then searching for the silky warmth of his hair, caressing, scratching right behind his ear. In the way the boy would sometimes lean forward a bit, his hand pressing his cheek and tussling his fringe as he graced Draco's lips with his, a loving, tender gesture that sometimes ended in a flash, and sometimes turned into an easy, open-mouthed kiss where he could taste the wet space right between the boy's teeth and lower lip.He knew — like you just do in dreams sometimes — that they had just had sex. He could feel it in the soft pull his muscles gave when he moved, and in the length of his breaths, and in the sated shivers that tickled his skin here and there, all of them travelling toward his groin, doing nothing but making him sleepy.Funnily enough, he woke up when his dream self fell asleep under the boy's weight, lulled by short breaths brushing his cheeks and nose.He never told anyone about his dream, and he never had the dream again. But one day, when the darkness of hopelessness had long taken control of his being and an aggressive, impatient hand grabbed his arm to shove him toward a bulging face, he remembered. He remembered those eyes silently showing him all the ways a person could be loved; those lips, now wounded and swollen, tasting his own as though they'd known each other forever.He remembered."I can't be sure," he murmured, and retreated.