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One of the things Harrison discovers about Drew is that he doesn’t just read books. In retrospect, maybe it should have been obvious. Each one is an experience, and he’s not one to just casually brush off the thrall of a good story.
Harrison wakes up one night, knowing instinctively that it’s very, very early. It’s brighter through his closed eyes than it should be though, and he opens them blearily to work out why. It’s Drew’s bedside lamp, illuminating the man himself, still sat up, hunched over his book.
“Drew?” He asks, voice still full of sleep. Drew blinks at him, coming out of what Harrison will one day term his Reading Trance.
“It’s late, love. You should go back to sleep.”
Harrison isn’t awake enough to dispute that.
“You, too?”
“When I’ve finished this.” Harrison nods, satisfied, and rolls himself in closer. (He doesn’t think to look how much of the book Drew has left.) He wraps an arm across his legs, burying his face in Drew’s hip. He falls back to sleep to the sound of Drew softly turning pages.
*****
Another night, another book. It’s earlier, this evening, and they’re both sprawled on the couch, Harrison’s legs resting on Drew’s lap, Drew’s book on top of his knees. Drew turns the pages with one hand, the other tracing patterns onto Harrison’s ankle.
Harrison doesn’t think he’s aware of it, and he’s certainly not aware of how much Harrison loves it - this quiet, gentle affection.
He’s reading too, so he doesn’t really notice Drew slowly sitting up, until the traces patterns suddenly change to a grip on his ankle, and he realises Drew is bolt upright, the book having finally captured his attention entirely.
Drew like this is his favourite. He watches his face, so often closed off, and sees the emotions flying past, sees the concern and the worry and the care and finally - elation.
“Holy shit,” Drew whispers, as he finishes the chapter, and Harrison can’t help but laugh. Drew looks up at him, and in his grin Harrison can see the child-like delight, a brightness illuminating his whole face.
“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me!” He says, joyful, because Harrison had finished that one the other day and had been trying desperately to keep the secrets.
They fall over themselves to talk about it, and Drew goes back to stroking his fingers across Harrison’s ankle, and Harrison knows this is his Happily Ever After.
*****
“Have you finished it yet?” Harrison calls, as soon as he walks through the door.
“No,” Drew replies, not even bothering to drag his eyes away from the book. Harrison laughs, leaning over the side of the sofa to kiss Drew’s cheekbone.
He leaves him well enough alone for the next few hours, despite how much he wants to know how Drew’s finding it. He gets some of his work done, and cooks dinner for them both. He leaves it in the pan when he’s done, instead going back to Drew. He sits on the arm of the sofa, dropping his head into Drew’s shoulder. Drew shifts just enough to kiss the corner of his lips, then turns back again. Harrison smiles, reading the pages too. He gives Drew a couple more pages, just to the end of the chapter, then interrupts.
“This is a good place to stop.”
Drew makes a noise of dissent. “Come eat dinner, you nerd,” Harrison tells him with impossible fondness.
They talk about the book between mouthfuls, and Harrison grows more and more excited for Drew to read the end. As soon as they’ve eaten their last mouthfuls, he pulls their plates away.
“Go read.” He instructs, and Drew laughs. He follows orders, but not before pulling Harrison back so he can kiss him.
He potters around the house all evening, and Drew throws him amused looks when he can’t sit still. Eventually, when he decides he’s too close to disturbing Drew, he wanders upstairs to their bedroom. He tries to make a dent in the sizeable amounts of mess they have around, but he only lasts so long. He’s sprawled on the bed on his phone when Drew finally comes up, and Harrison kneels up to greet him. He’s been crying, the tear tracks still visible on his face, but his smile is brilliant. Harrison cups his face with his hands, thumbing away the tears, replacing them with kisses.
“It was so good ,” Drew says, and he’s grinning too hard to kiss Harrison back properly, so Harrison peppers a kiss to every inch of his face instead.
*****
“Drew, honey?” Harrison asks, and Drew looks up at him with a soft sound. “How good is that book?”
“It’s okay, I guess.”
“Good.” Harrison says, and he picks the book up, marks Drew’s place in it, and then places himself in Drew’s lap in its stead.
*****
“Would you read to me?” Harrison asks, voice small. It’s not even close to evening yet, but they’re cuddled in bed together. Harrison had come back exhausted, and Drew had taken one look at him and announced that it was a pyjama-only evening, and that it was imperative that he be wrapped in a blanket immediately.
“Of course,” Drew tells him, voice as gentle as the hand stroking his back. “Which book?”
Harrison shrinks into himself a little, and it’s a while before he responds in a whisper, “Can I not make the decision?”
Drew kisses his hairline, and uncurls himself. They have bookshelves all over the house, but their current favourites live in this room, a row of them on top of the chest of drawers. Drew looks back at Harrison, then smiles and picks out a book.
He climbs back into bed, and lets Harrison mold himself back into his side.
“Harry Potter was a highly unusual boy in many ways.” He begins.
Before they're even a chapter in, Harrison is sound asleep. Drew will have to wake him later, but for now, he reads, and lets him rest.
*****
Drew’s stopped reading, Harrison realises belatedly. He looks up, and finds that Drew is looking back at him, smile on his face, eyes full of warmth.
“What?” Harrison says, laughter in his voice.
“I love you,” Drew tells him.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
Harrison tugs on his shirt to pull him down into a kiss, and Drew obliges happily. When it turns out Harrison is smiling too much to kiss back, Drew changes tack, kissing his dimples instead, the creases around his eyes, his nose, his chin, until Harrison is a giggling mess.
“I love you,” Drew tells him again.
“I love you, too.” Harrison replies, tilting to kiss Drew again. The laughter drops out of the kiss, and they shift against each other, deepening it.
There’s a thud as Drew’s book falls on the floor.
The laughter returns, and Drew pulls away to pick up his book, closing it moving it onto the table. He takes Harrison’s, too, placing it on top of his own.
He’s about to sit back down, but Harrison gets up too. Drew looks at him in askance, and Harrison’s returned smirk is wicked.
“We’re going upstairs.” He tells Drew, and drags him that way with another handful of his shirt. Drew lets him, but twists out of his grip when they get to their room. He pulls Harrison back in and turns them, pressing him back up against the closed door. There’s a moment where they just stare at each other, and then Harrison nips at Drew’s lips and Drew drops to his knees.
“I brought you to the bed room for a reason ,” Harrison tells him, but his complaints don’t last long, words turning to stuttered, gasping breaths as Drew gets his mouth on him. His hands clutch Drew’s hair, and Drew’s fingers draw lines across his hips.
Drew uses all his knowledge of Harrison, and it isn’t long before he comes, gasping out Drew’s name. He slumps down the wall, and it takes them both a long moment to get their breath back.
“You know, I was going to suggest we cuddled and napped,” Harrison says, primly.
“Complaints, complaints.” Drew’s kiss is hard, though his hand cradles Harrison’s head oh so gently. “Changed your mind yet?”
Harrison mutters something about him being incorrigible, and Drew laughs, and hauls them both up off the floor.
“As you wish,” He says, gesturing grandly to the bed.
The pace slows right down again now they’re lyingdown, the glide of their lips against each other almost lazy. Drew can tell the moment Harrison starts to come back to life. His hands, draped over his waist, start to move, and he draws ever widening circles on Drew’s hip.
Harrison makes a smug sounds as he feels Drew hardening against him, and Drew bites at his lip in retaliation before rolling them so he’s on top of Harrison.
“Oh, definitely not,” Harrison says, and rolls them again. He grinds down once, and Drew arches towards the friction. Harrison takes advantage of his exposed throat, kissing his way down it, nuzzling at his collar bone. He pulls Drew’s shirt off him and follows his path down, hands moving to hold Drew’s hips down as he bucks against him. Drew makes a sound deep in his throat, hand moving unerringly to grip Harrison’s hair. He mouths across Drew’s stomach, open-mouthed kisses across every inch of his skin. He touches the ticklish patch just above his hip, and Drew’s movement turns to squirming. They laugh, the moment broken, and Harrison presses an apologetic kiss to the spot before moving back up to focus his attentions on Drew’s mouth. He kisses deep, lowering his weight off his elbows to lie flat against him, well aware of how much Drew is enjoying this. He allows Drew to draw his t-shirt up, pausing the kiss to remove it entirely, and not admonishing Drew for throwing it away other than a sharp bite to the lip. Drew gasps into him, hands gripping tighter. He breaks the kiss for a moment to pant, and twining his legs around Harrison’s to pull him even closer still.
Harrison takes the hint, but he’s in no rush. He moves a hand to cup Drew’s cheek, smiling at how instinctively Drew turns into it, how he kisses his palm, then the base of each finger before Harrison moves his hand away. He traces a finger up Drew’s jaw, circling around the caress the shell of his ear. He pauses at his pulse point, the drags the flat of his hand down across Drew’s shoulder. He sweeps across his chest, teasing one nipple before moving on to the next, coaxing more sounds out of Drew before he moves down further still. He avoids Drew’s ticklish spot this time, and just barely traces the tips of his fingers above the waistband of his jeans.
“Harrison,” Drew says, though he barely has the air for it. Harrison strokes him once, teasingly, before moving his hand back up again, and Drew keens .
“Cuddles and naps, right?” He gets out, and Harrison laughs breathlessly, then undoes Drew’s fly and gets a hand on him. From there on, there’s no more words between the two of them, just soft sounds muffled into lips and panting breaths. Their rhythm picks up, Drew thrusting up into Harrison’s strokes, and Harrison presses his lips back to Drew’s just in time to muffle the sound he makes as he comes.
Harrison shifts off him, staying close enough that Drew can bury his face in his neck as he comes back down.
“Some cuddle,” he manages eventually, and he doesn’t need to look to know that Harrison is preening beside him. “I’m not sure I’ll be able to finish that book now,” he adds. “Gonna get distracted.”
“Whatever will you do,” Harrison replies, mock-solemn. Drew laughs into the crook of his neck.
“I guess I’ll manage.” He lifts his head finally, gazing into Harrison’s eyes.
“Love you,” Harrison tells him.
“You stole the words right out of my mouth,” he tells him, and leans back in to kiss him again.