A/N: This is a one shot, written for Lily. Rated M for MMMMMature, so look out if you're just a small child. I could corrupt your innocence. I've already corrupted Lily's. ;)

Of course, by the end of writing it, I might just decide to throw it into my Drarry homomance. Yummy :) That's my most popular story... so far :)

You should also note that all the chapters in that particular story are mostly stand alone, with some scenes following HBP and DH specifically.

In fact, maybe I'll throw this in there just for Audrey H's sake, since she wanted to read more before she told me what scenes I should do.

Also, the room Draco is in at the beginning is based on the Nursery in the short story "The Veldt," by Ray Bradbury. I had to read that in Language Arts all three years of middle school, and I love it more than I could ever tell you. See if you can find the reference to 21 Letters to the Order of the Phoenix, or whatever that story is called. It's in my favorites. Also try and notice how I make fun of Harry's naming of his children- especially Albus Severus. Seriously? Do you have to name EVERYTHING after someone? It's like you're the royal family, or something!

I can't be grateful enough to you if you are reading my fanfics. Maybe someday when you see my name on a bookshelf you'll buy it and help me get on a bestseller list.

Yeah, like I'd ever get on published, let alone on a bestseller list.

Okay, okay, I'll get to the story now!

Draco Malfoy was pacing the length of a small white room, fidgeting with his clothing and glancing at the clock every now and then, unable to contain his excitement. It felt as though his twenty three year old body was too small to contain it, as though he would burst with it. Harry came home from an extended trip today. As the room read his thoughts, Harry was projected onto its walls and ceiling, as Draco had often pictured him those days. Ever since Draco had deserted his family, joined up with Harry, Ron, and Hermione (much to Ron's dislike), and helped win the war six years earlier, this had been how he pictured Harry Potter.

Stark Naked.

The Harry on the walls began speaking to Draco, and Draco felt as though he were speaking to the real Harry. They carried on a pointless conversation about Crumple Horned Snorkacks, which Harry kept referring to, much to Draco's confusion, as Hubert, until Draco heard the front door slam open. He smoothed off his dark green Wizard's robes (Harry's favorite color), and trotted into the front room, the Harry on the walls in the white room looking a little peeved before disappearing altogether, some parts of him more reluctantly than others.

"Draco." Harry said warmly, smiling his Harry smile and holding out his arms, swathed in brown wool, to Draco. They hugged each other tightly. It had been nearly a month since Harry had left, and the house was lonely without him. Harry was dressed in Muggle clothes, his last duty on the trip had been to visit the Muggle Prime Minister, and he always found that it got the Prime Minister in a better mood when he wore clothes that fit in more with his setting. When in Rome, do as the Romans do.

Right then all Harry wanted to do was rip Draco's clothes off and show him exactly how much he had missed him. Draco was thinking things of a similar nature.

"How's everything?" Harry asked, suppressing his desires for the time being. Draco hid his disappointment by smiling.

"Perfect. Nymph just got back with a letter for you," Draco said, pointing to the kitchen, where they kept Nymph's cage. Nymph, named for Nymphadora Tonks, who was the first person to support their relationship (she had reason to, seeing as she had her fair share of forbidden love as well), was an Eagle Owl, the offspring of Draco's first owl, Killer. Harry had a personal owl as well, who was named James, for his father. Since Harry had the desire to name something in his life after everyone he had ever known, the oven was named Albus, the toaster Sirius, and the couch in the drawing room Neville. Then there was the bedroom furniture. Draco personally felt bad for the people those objects had been named after, but had let Harry name them anyway, because let's face it, Draco had no chance in a fight against Harry.

They were in the kitchen then. Harry was reading the lengthy letter sent to him by Hermione while Draco cursed at Sirius for not toasting the bread properly. When he had magicked the bread to a proper level of toasted-ness, he placed a platter of it in the center of the kitchen table and conjured some butterbeers for Harry and himself. Harry helped himself to some toast and jam, and took a gulp of the butterbeer. When they had finished eating and Harry had shared with Draco the finer points of his trip, and Hermione's letter, Harry smiled mischievously.

"Draco-Cake, let's say you and I go on up to Severus and you can show me everything I've been missing while I've been away," Harry said, winking. Draco smiled. This was what he wanted. They made out relentlessly on the way to the bedroom, Harry seemingly a lot less excited than Draco. He couldn't help it. He had to pee.

"Hold on," He said when they arrived at the bedroom, "I have to use Ronald and Minerva first," Draco suppressed a snigger. He especially felt bad for Professor McGonnagal, the namesake for the shower, and Ron Weasley Toilet, Senior.

Well, maybe he didn't feel so bad for Ron. After all, he was horribly rude whenever Draco was around. Draco did feel a little uncomfortable that Harry wanted to be halfway naked on something named after Ron, though, and that he wanted to be all the way naked in something named Minerva. Trying to banish this from his mind, he made Harry a different offer.

"How about we start things off in... Minerva... and then finish in... Severus..." He purred, slightly reluctant to use the objects' given names, but knowing Harry would throw a fit if he didn't. Harry grinned, starting to pull off the ugly brown sweater.

"Okay," He agreed, waltzing into Mad-Eye, the official name for the bathroom. When Draco heard the Transfiguration-teacher-turned-shower start, he pulled off his robes and his shirt, charging into the bathroom excitedly. Harry was already halfway done showering by the time Malfoy was completely naked, and had hopped into Minerva next to him. Harry didn't seem to notice, and Malfoy began to kiss his neck, being careful to use teeth. Harry moaned, enjoying the combination of Draco's soft lips against his skin and the hot water from the shower pounding against the bite marks made. Harry, his hair snow tipped with shampoo, turned to join Malfoy, moving his hands up and down his wet body. Harry being in the main stream of the hot shower, was considerably wetter, and he felt goosebumps rising on Draco's pale skin, which was expected, seeing as Draco was only partway in the hot water, and the cool air from the adjacent room was sending shivers up the exposed part of him. As their lips moved in harmony against each other's bodies, Draco traced scars on Harry's, long healed, most made by a master Draco had never wanted to follow. Harry's hands habitually found the long scar on Malfoy's arm that had been caused by a hippogriff attack in their third year, then the long gash down the centre of his torso, off color, caused by a curse Harry had set off. Harry bent down and kissed it, muttering his apologies to it for the thousandth time. Draco felt himself rising as Harry's lips got close, so close... and moved back up again, searching blindly for his face. Malfoy fooled around between Harry's legs, finding that he, too, had risen. Harry was still kissing Draco's face, his neck, his chest, tracing each beautiful man nipple with his tongue, to which Draco responded appropriately- by squeezing Harry. Hard. By then the shampoo had rinsed out of Harry's hair, and he and Draco slowly made their way over to Severus, where they collapsed, Harry still doing the majority of the work. When Harry paused, expecting Draco to flip over and allow him to finish the job, Draco surprised him by instead taking Harry over, flipping their positions so that he was on top, their legs entwined. Draco took over, doing things to Harry that Harry had never felt before. Draco, though he didn't plan on telling Harry, had learned these things with Vincent Crabbe, and had saved them for a night like tonight, a night where he was well practiced, where he knew he could do it. Harry was a much better partner than Vincent.

When the couple finally woke up the following morning, or, rather, afternoon, they were surprised at the mess they had made. Moving throughout the night from place to place in their bedroom (the couch, whose name was Luna, the top of the dresser, whose name was Hermione, up against the closet, Percy, and the door, Fred, and finally to the bed in the guest bedroom, George), they had caused a path of destruction. Lamps (Charlie, Bill, and Arthur), chairs (Dean, Seamus, Lavender, and Parvati), and a rather unfortunate bookcase (Remus), had been knocked over, toiletries and clean sheets (which Draco had put on Hermione for this specific reason) had been shoved off of Hermione, Ronald was completely demolished (Draco didn't plan on telling Harry how this had happened, and was hoping severely the new toilet would merit a different name), and for some reason, James and Nymphs' feathers were all over the floor.

Draco, having spent a month without all this, had completely forgotten all the devastation it caused their home. Harry, not planning on informing Malfoy why, had not forgotten, and was already beginning to clean up while Draco was still observing the demolition site.

A/N: So what did you think? I had a lot of fun writing it, I hope whoever is unfortunate enough to read it has bad taste and liked it, too. Sigh, how I wish I could write like S. Wolf.