Title: Relearning How to Touch
Author: elfflame
Characters/Pairings: Blaise/Draco (Miles)
Rating: R
Kinks/Themes Chosen: Touch
Other Warnings: Implication of rape
Word Count: 1269
Summary/Description: Blaise waits for Draco to Heal.
Author's Notes: Sequel to The Replacement (warning for dub-con), A New Beginning and The Meaning of Love. Though all that really needs to be known is that this takes place a few years after the end of the war, and that Miles and Blaise have been together since the end of Sixth Year. Draco’s torments come mostly from after the war, though I didn’t name them in the fic itself. There’s no non-con in the story itself, or even dub-con for those who shy away from that sort of thing. Just a little hurt/comfort fluff. Thank you to wolfish cat for helping me with this one. Hugs and loves to wolfish_cat for the hand-holding and Betaing.



Draco still doesn’t like to be touched most days, even though he’s been here in Naples with Blaise and Miles for over a month now. Sometimes he comes to Blaise in the night, though. Usually the nights when Miles is away. The two still aren’t sure what to make of each other, even if Miles is okay with sharing Blaise. Blaise has to be careful when Draco comes to him. One wrong touch can send Draco running from the room.

He’s learning. He’s learned that Draco doesn’t like to be touched on the cheeks any longer. Any time he sees Blaise’s hand near his face, he immediately shies away. But there’s a spot on Draco’s neck two fingers space below his ear that will make him melt if he kisses it just so. There’s another just above the curve of his shoulder that will make him go rigid with fear no matter how Blaise touches it. He’s learned the difference between a gasp of pleasure and a gasp that means he’s pushed Draco too far. That sort tends to end up with Draco rolling away and running from the room once more. Blaise hates that. But he always lets him go.

Blaise has been teaching him to bake. He knows how Draco hates feeling useless, and this is something he’s sure his friend can learn, if he just gives himself time. After all, Draco was always good at the mixing and measuring aspects of Potions. The problem is, Draco’s no longer used to learning. He has no patience for his own mistakes, and when he gets into a tizzy about failing once more, Blaise has to just stand back, watching as Draco rages at himself.

Sometimes, he refuses to even leave his own room the next day. He does that for a lot of reasons; not just because of baking. Sometimes it’s because he can’t manage to get out of bed. Other times it’s because of a glancing comment Blaise or Miles made unintentionally that will set off a rage in him that scares Blaise. Some days he wonders if Draco will kill them. Or himself. The fear of it almost strangles him. And then the next morning, he wakes to find the door to Draco’s room locked, and no answer from him. Sometimes he doesn’t come out for days.

Blaise makes sure to bring him food then. On those days when he can’t even get Draco to open the door, he leaves a tray by his door. Sometimes, the food on the tray even gets eaten. Usually, it depends on how long he’s locked himself in the room, and when his last meal was.

Draco’s getting better about eating, but Blaise knows he hoards food sometimes. And there are days when he can’t manage to get Draco to eat at all. Between that and how Draco reacts to his touch, it’s hard to keep himself from hunting down the men who hurt Draco this way. He blames himself for it. That he wasn’t there to protect Draco from all of this. That he hadn’t insisted that Draco stop his foolish task for the Dark Lord and come away with him before that fateful night when Dumbledore died.

The thing that usually finally draws Draco from his room isn’t food or company. It’s Blaise himself. Always when Miles is gone. That’s when Draco appears. Blaise doesn’t know how Draco knows, but he does—somehow. One moment Blaise is alone, and the next, Draco is standing there watching him.

No matter what Blaise is doing, or where he is, his world stops in that moment. It’s like suddenly noticing a wild animal nearby. Blaise is terrified that any word or movement will make Draco flee back to his room. So he always waits for Draco to make the first move.

Sometimes Draco just talks. Not about why he hid in his room, nor about his real reasons for hiding. Not even about the past. Just inconsequential things. The weather. What they’re going to do for supper tonight. The book Blaise is currently reading. It’s not perfect, but at least Blaise can relax enough to talk to him, and knows that this current crisis is past.

Other times, though, Draco allows more. Needs more. He’s always tentative about it. Terrified. Of how Blaise will react. And Blaise thinks, possibly, of his own need for what he wants. Those are the times Blaise gets to relearn him. Learns how to kiss Draco all over again when Draco perches in his lap as though about to flee at any moment, his hands tentative on Blaise’s arms or chest, then leans in for a kiss.

Blaise always lets Draco lead the way. He’s scared to make the wrong move. But after a few kisses, most times Draco relaxes enough to let Blaise touch him, though Blaise doesn’t do more than kiss and touch him through his clothes until Draco begins to push up Blaise’s shirt.

Though they have managed to get to this point at least a half-dozen times since Draco’s arrival, they’ve not gotten beyond undressing. At first, it was Draco’s shame at how he looked. He had been horrifyingly skinny, the lines of his bones prominent through his skin. Blaise had tried to reassure him, but it hadn’t been enough to keep him from pulling on his shirt once more and scurrying back to his room. The first time, he’d locked himself in his room for two more days before reappearing. But it didn’t stop Blaise from trying again. He knew shying away from the subject would only make it worse—make Draco worse.

Tonight is the first time they’ve managed to undress completely since the shower Draco took after his arrival without Draco wincing or pulling away entirely. His ribs are still far too prominent, but he no longer hides himself, leaning in once he’s naked to kiss Blaise once more.

Blaise lets go another sliver of his control and strokes down Draco’s back, hoping his own relaxation will help Draco feel the same. He wants this so much, but he’s had to be cautious. Draco is fragile as spun glass. The wrong touch could shatter him. Blaise can’t let that happen. Draco is his. To protect. To hold. To love. If Draco will only let him.

The feel of naked flesh against naked flesh is enough to take Blaise’s breath away as they kiss and touch. Pressed together on the sofa where Draco found him, hands relearning bodies thought long-lost years before, it’s enough to make Blaise’s head spin, even without the knowledge that Draco is possibly learning to trust him once more. They move together, hands stroking over sensitive spots until Draco shudders in his arms, coming with a soft gasp, and finally Blaise lets go as well, letting himself forget everything else as his own body arches in climax.

After, they lay together, still and sated, their skin damp with sweat, Draco’s fingers tracing patterns on Blaise’s chest. The fear of hurting Draco returns with Blaise’s breath, and he feels himself hug Draco closer. It’s on the tip of his tongue to tell him he would wait decades for Draco to heal, but he knows the words will shatter the spell of the moment, and Draco will hate himself once more for being unable, and no amount of reassuring words will convince him the fault is not his own. So Blaise tells him instead with kisses and soft touches.

It is enough for now. And Blaise will wait for Draco to be ready for more as long as it takes.