Disclaimer: I do not now, nor ever will I own the Harry Potter Universe… unless this is an alternate universe where I am JKR. :)

WARNINGS: slash, mpreg, and language, mentions femslash, infidelity (not Harry or Draco) and sex toys.

This story was written for Kamerreon's 2010 Secret Santa Fic Exchange. I'm finally getting around to posting it. Enjoy! And Happy New Year!

There are some things that Malfoys, even reformed Malfoys like Draco, simply did not do. And sleeping on the couch was one of them. And yet, here he was, trying in vain to get comfortable on the couch in the living room, locked out of his bedroom by an enraged husband. He sighed and turned over once more, muttering as a spring in the damn thing poked his back. First thing in the morning, he was running to a furniture store and buying a new one!

It had started out innocently enough. Draco and Harry had been invited to Draco's parents' house for Lucius's birthday party. Harry had been feeling better for the first time in days and Narcissa had told them she would have Draco's old room ready if Harry needed to rest, so the couple had decided to go. The Malfoys had been rather cool to their son and his husband since their wedding five years before, Lucius saying Draco had turned his back on all the Malfoys had worked for for centuries by marrying a half-blood. However, Harry's pregnancy had changed all that.

Harry had not known he was able to bear children and Draco had not thought to look for signs, so the healer's gleeful declaration had floored them both. The news of a grandchild had gone a long ways towards healing the rift with the Malfoys, as had Harry's choice to take up the Black Lordship. Narcissa had taken the young Lord Potter-Black under her wing, often taking him out shopping or inviting him over for tea to discuss what was expected of him now that he was a proper pureblood Lord. After three months, Lucius had warmed to the naturally cheerful Harry as well, and was already buying up everything a child could ever want in anticipation of his unborn grandson. (It would be a son, of course, as firstborn Malfoys are always sons.)

The party had been in full-swing when the Malfoy-Potters had arrived. It was Harry's first time in the level of society that Draco had grown up in, and the young man had demanded that his husband stay near him to make sure he didn't make a fool of himself. Draco had intended to stay at his side, but moments after they arrived Narcissa swept in and took Harry by the arm, all but dragging him away from his husband to introduce him to her friends. By the time Harry had gotten away from the ladies, all of whom were enthralled with his baby-bump, wanting to touch it, ask him when he was due, how was he feeling, etc., etc., all of which was just a wee bit odd for Harry, he had not been able to find Draco.

Fortunately, Blaise Zabini, a fellow curse-breaker and a casual friend, had seen him looking around wildly and come to his rescue.

"All right there, Harry?" the Italian asked as he sidled up, a martini glass in his hand. Harry sighed, eyeing the alcohol longingly. He had never been a big drinker before his pregnancy, but he missed the idea of drinking. Just four more months, he told himself. As excited as he was for his child to be born, Harry was not happy with the pregnancy itself. He now understood why Hermione had been so whiny while she was pregnant with Rose. You need to apologize for being such a git then, he reminded himself. But for now, he had to concentrate on finding Draco.

"'Ello Blaise," he replied, grinning at the man. "Doing all right, you?" As he spoke, he searched the crowd, looking for his missing husband. Bloody hell, if he's left, I'll kill him.

"Can't complain. I heard about the kid, congratulations." Harry turned to look at his friend. Blaise had vied with Draco for Harry's hand seven years ago, and Harry had chosen Draco over Blaise, as Blaise had cheated on him with a French bint. But Harry knew Blaise still felt something for him and he was surprised the Italian was congratulating him.

"Thanks," he said quickly. He cast around for something to say before clearing his throat. "I heard you are seeing the Greengrass girl. Daphne, right?"

Blaise flashed him a smile. "Yeah. She's a lovely girl. She was in our year, do you remember?"

"I don't remember many Slytherins besides you, Draco, the Trolls and Parkinson." Harry laughed, taking a goblet of water from a waiter. "I was rather closed off in my friends back then."

"I blame the Weasel," Blaise said softly. "Him and that little red-headed bint. Jenny, right?"

"Ginny," Harry whispered. The Weasleys had turned their backs on him when he had come out to them. When he had refused Ginny for Draco, they had, almost to a person, rejected him. The only one he kept in contact with was Bill, the curse-breaker. A pang went through his heart at the thought of his former friends. Their betrayal had hurt much more than any wounds he had ever received at Voldemort's hands.

"Have you seen Draco, Blaise?" he asked quietly.

"Always Malfoy with you, isn't it, Potter?" he sighed. "Did I ever really have a chance?"

Harry locked eyes with his friend, green meeting black and holding. "I love Draco, Blaise. You might have had a chance, a long time ago, but not after what you did. Draco has always been faithful, always been by my side. Can you say the same?"

"I might not be able to say the same, but I don't think your opinion of Draco is so clear," the former Slytherin sneered. "He looks pretty cozy with the Nott girl over there." Harry followed Blaise's raised arm and what he saw made his heart freeze.

Draco was standing in a corner of the ballroom, surrounded by former Slytherins, with Theodore Nott's older sister all but draped over him. Her lips were smashed against his, and he didn't look to be protesting. The goblet in Harry's hand slipped from his grip, clattering to the ground in a resounding crash. In the noise of the gathered crowd, it might have gone unheard, but Harry didn't stay still long enough to know if anyone noticed. He turned on his heel and stalked over to where Narcissa was standing, chatting with her friends.

"Narcissa," he hissed, laying a hand on her arm to catch her attention. The stately witch turned and gasped, reaching out to press her hand to his shoulder.

"Harry, are you all right?" she demanded. "You look like you've seen a ghost. Where is Draco?"

"I'm going home," he whispered. He struggled to keep tears from falling and cleared his throat. "Will you tell Draco? He seems to… be enjoying the party."

"Of course," the witch agreed, worry coloring her words. "Harry, is everything all right? Is something wrong with the baby?"

"I'm fine," he assured her, giving her his best smile. It felt forced, even to him. "I'm just tired."

"Of course. You only just recovered from the flu; this must have been a lot for you." She patted his arm, smiling up at him. "We'll have dinner later this week as a family. Go home and go to bed. I'll pass your good wishes on to Lucius."

Harry smiled and brushed a kiss across her cheek. In many ways, she had become like a mother to him over the past months. "Thanks."

Stalking out of the ballroom, he collected his cloak from the house-elf on duty and threw a handful of Floo powder into the fireplace.

"Corinth Place!" he stated and was off.

He had just thrown off his robes and was drawing a bath when the crack of Apparation echoed through the flat. He gritted his teeth and lowered himself into the hot water, steeling himself for the coming confrontation. The door to the bathroom flew open and a frantic Draco entered.

"Harry! It's not what it looked like."

"Funny," Harry drawled as he reached for his wand to adjust the temperature of the water, "it looked like you were sucking the face off Isabella Nott. What were you doing, then? Removing a bit of food with your tongue?"

"She threw herself at me!" Draco cried, falling to his knees by the tub's edge. "I was so startled, I froze!"

"Do I look like an idiot, Draco?" Harry growled, scooting to the far side of the mammoth tub when the blond reached for him. "Don't touch me!"

"Harry, I swear, I would never cheat on you!"

"Go away, Draco," Harry snarled. "Go away. I don't want to speak to you right now." He turned his attention from his distressed husband to the washcloth on the tub's rim. "And don't even think about getting into my bed tonight."

Draco stood up, knowing well the tone of finality in his husband's voice. "Can we talk about this when you have had time to cool off? Please?"

He sounded so forlorn and sad Harry had trouble remembering why he was angry with him. "I'll speak to you tomorrow," he snapped. "Now go away."

He didn't look up as the blond retreated, but as soon as the bathroom door closed, he released a ragged breath. He whimpered and wrapped his arms around himself, finally allowing himself the luxury of tears. He had thought Draco would never hurt him like Blaise had. He had thought himself in love with the handsome Italian when Gabrielle Delacour had appeared on his doorstep one day, in tears, with pictures of his boyfriend and her sister in bed.

She told him she had found them while she was looking for teabags in her sister's kitchen. She had thought they were old until that morning, when she had found Zabini and her sister going at it in the living room. Harry had been heartbroken and had immediately stopped seeing Zabini. Draco had been the one who helped him pick up the pieces again. And now it was happening all over again.

He soaked for a long time, allowing himself to luxuriate in the hot water and spreading the special oil the healer had given him for stretch marks over his belly. What would come of his unborn child if it turned out Draco had been cheating on him? Harry was not one to stay once his trust had been broken. He would not allow Draco to talk him into giving the blond a second chance. He had seen his Aunt Petunia do that to Vernon time and time again, and each time, Vernon had gone out and done it again. But what of his son or daughter? They would have to grow up in a broken home, passed from one father to the other like a toy.

After a while, even the spelled water lost most of its heat and Harry climbed out, pulling on the stretchy pair of sleeping pants he had laid out. He slipped out of the bathroom, scanning the bedroom to make sure Draco was nowhere in sight, before climbing into bed. He shifted around, trying to get comfortable. It was strange, not having Draco in the massive bed. The blond was a cuddler and the moment Harry got into bed, his husband would wrap himself around him, pressing every inch he could to his lover. It was uncomfortable to try to get to sleep without him.

Harry's dreams were fitful and broken that night. Every thirty minutes it seemed, he would wake up, crying into his pillow. More than once, he got out of bed, intent on going to Draco and telling him to come to bed, before he remembered he was angry with him. When the owl arrived early the next morning, he prayed it was his boss telling him to stay home. He was exhausted.

Mr. Potter, the letter began.

I am writing to, hopefully, correct any damage I drunkenly cause to your marriage. First off, may I say that last night was the first time I have ever kissed your husband, or any man for that matter. I am a lesbian and have had more than a few girlfriends that will attest to the fact that I do not even like vibrators or fake phalluses. That said, while I will admit that your husband is rather pretty, and even a lesbian in a committed relationship for two years can admit that, I am in no way attracted to him. If anything, I have always seen Draco as a younger, obnoxious brother who has an almost unnatural obsession with clothes and his hair. I am still not quite sure why I did what I did, but I'm sure my idiot brother had something to do with it.

I've known Draco Malfoy for many years, and I can say without a doubt that he is completely and totally head over heels for you. In school, he would obsess over every sentence you ever spoke to him, and when you agreed to go on a date with him seven years ago, he burst into my brother's home crowing with delight that you, Harry Potter, the beautiful boy he had admired and loved from afar for years, had agreed to go out with him, a former Death Eater.

Draco has always seen you for who you are, Harry, not the Boy Who Lived, or the Conqueror, but as the shy boy who was wide-eyed in wonder at all the Wizarding world had to offer. I can remember more than one occasion where he complained to me that you would never notice him.

Harry, I am sorry for what I did last night and I hope you can see that Draco would never, ever do anything to hurt you if he could help it. I know you might not want to take my word for it, but I swear on my magic, he would never cheat on you.

All the best,

Isabella Coralene Nott

Harry looked up from the letter and stared at the door. Was it possible what he had seen last night was a mistake? He stood and walked to the door, slowly opening it and walking down the hall. In the living room, he stopped by the couch. Draco's face was twisted in sleep, a pained expression painted across his handsome features. Harry's heart twisted at the sight. He laid a hand on his husband's shoulder and shook him awake.

"Wha…? Harry?" Draco mumbled, blinking the sleep away. He sat up and frowned. "What?"

"Is it true?" Harry asked softly, proffering the letter. "Have you loved me for as long as she says?"

Draco snatched the letter away and read it, eyes darting back and forth as he devoured the words. He looked up a moment later, a faint blush tinting his cheeks.

"I… I've loved you since the first time I saw you in Diagon Alley," he whispered. "And I didn't come down from the high when you said 'yes' the first time for days. Isabella is right; I was so happy I barged in on a meeting Theo was having at his house. The git wouldn't talk to me for weeks after wards."

Harry was silent for a moment, eyes searching his husband's face. He wanted, desperately wanted to believe him, wanted to believe the words in the letter.

"You've never even thought about anyone, have you?" he said at last.

Draco chuckled darkly. "Never. Blaise used to say I was obsessed, that someone must have put a love potion in my drink because it wasn't natural, what I felt for you. But I always knew differently."

A smile broke free and Harry threw his arms around his husband. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I should have believed you." He pressed his lips to his husband's and sighed when Draco returned the kiss.

"Didn't I ever tell you?" the blond whispered against his lips, pulling Harry down to straddle his legs. He laughed when the baby kept them from coming as close as he wanted, but he pulled his lover as close as he could. "Malfoys only ever have one mate; it's the veela blood in us. You're mine."

Harry laughed, pressing him back against the couch so he could lay on him, wiggling around until he got comfortable. Draco grunted and shifted until they were laying, Harry resting on him. "Are you going to go all primal animal on me and mark me as your property?" Harry asked cheekily, nuzzling his husband's neck. Draco chuckled and jerked his hips when Harry reached down to stroke him.

"If you keep doing that, I might have to," he groaned. Harry laughed and kissed him. "Harry?" Draco said when they pulled back for air.

"Hmmm?" was Harry's response as he reached into Draco's boxers. Draco struggled to remember what he was trying to say as Harry's talented fingers went to work.

"I… ummm… ouch!" The shifting they had done was pressing a spring right into his spine. He sat up and rubbed his back. "We need a new couch."

Harry's laughter rang through the flat until Draco's pouting lips silenced it.