What if Harry and Draco had been together for a while and one of them had to go away for a while and they are on the phone and then one of them says "turn around" and there they are!!! Did this make any sense
Draco hated muggle devices.
He hated the ridiculously loud telly vision, he abhorred everything that had to do with the terrifying things called vacuum cleaners, and telly phones were no different.
They were small to hold, blindingly bright and too loud for Draco’s taste.
(That, and they didn’t exactly look pretty.)
(Yes, Harry did buy him a silver one, which was fine, but still.)
He never understood muggle devices, either. He just let Harry deal with that stuff, watching his boyfriend wave around with a duster, apparently persistent on using the stuff he’d grown up with rather than using his wand.
(Harry had always been stubborn, after all. It’s why Draco had fallen for him in the first place. Well, that, and of course his magnificent arse.)
The only times he liked to use phones was when his boyfriend - his stupidly successful and famous boyfriend - was out on a mission for work, unable to use magic to avoid getting his location known. Because then they could call, Draco standing in the dark of his bedroom, trying to keep his voice even and far from worried (Harry away on a mission always made him go crazy, but Harry didn’t need to know that.) Because then they could talk and talk and talk, Draco helping Harry to stay awake and focused, ending up falling asleep with each other’s breathing in their ears, a calming reminder that the other was still there, still alive.
Draco was standing in their bedroom right now, the blasted muggle device against his ear, Harry’s voice rumbling through the speaker.
And Draco was trying hard not to cry.
(Harry had been gone for almost two weeks now, and it didn’t seem as if the mission would be done very soon. He knew Harry’s job was important, he knew that the ‘bad guys’ needed to get caught, but goddamnit couldn’t the criminals give his poor boyfriend a break? Give him a break? He needed his boyfriend, he needed to hold his hand, he needed to kiss him until his lips were swollen and almost painful.)
“I miss you,” Draco whispered, not quite succeeding in keeping his voice even.
“I miss you too,” Harry murmured back, soft but not any less sincere. “I’ll be back before you know it.”
Draco snorted - half a laugh, half a sob. “You better, you prick. I need someone to make a mess of the kitchen, it’s almost scary how clean it is nowadays.”
Harry laughed, and something twisted in Draco’s chest.
“I need someone to never turn off the light when they leave the room,” Draco continued, wanting to hear that laugh again and again and again - “I need someone to forget to close the fridge, I need someone who always leaves their glasses on their nightstand.”
“Someone to yell at you when you use up all the hot water again,” Harry chipped in, and Draco scoffed.
“As if you’ve never heard of warming spells, Potter.” When Harry didn’t answer, Draco sighed. “Just… Come back, alright? It’s boring here without your annoying face.”
“Hey, Draco,” Harry suddenly said, his voice sounding a bit off, “could you turn around?”
“Why would I -”
“Just do it.”
Half thinking his boyfriend had gone mad, Draco turned on his heels.
And promptly dropped his phone.
The loud crack it made when it connected with the floor didn’t bother Draco in the slightest - because oh, Harry was standing there, a stupid grin on his face and his eyebrows knitted together, ridiculously cute, his hair standing in every possible direction and holding his phone against his ear - such a unexpected sight that Draco had difficulty finding his breath.
“Uh, hi,” Harry said, waving sheepishly. “Surprise?”
“Harry,” he breathed, and he didn’t wait for Harry to say something - and jumped towards him, kissing him full on the mouth, his hands immediately in Harry’s hair, tugging at the strands so hard it must’ve been painful but he didn’t care because Harry was with him, Harry was home -
Harry’s phone dropped to the floor, too, when he automatically wrapped his arms around a crying Draco.
okay so yuri and otabek have been friends for a while and otabek has really wanted to look Cool™ in yuri’s eyes so obviously he’s taken him around clubs and played him music he’s mixed by himself, shown yuri around with his motorcycle, worn his most umcomfortable pair of jeans all the time just because they look great, things like that.
but otabek is actually not cool or exciting and trying to act like that is tiring him, so one friday evening he stands yuri up saying that he’s a little ill with cold.
it’s the first friday night in ages he’s spent at home, so naturally he goes straight to ‘treat yoself’ mood. he takes a long bath, wears his fluffiest bathrobe and soft slippers. he puts on a clay facial mask and watches friends on netflix. he’s ordered a pizza too so he doesn’t suspect anything when the doorbell rings, and he goes to open the door with the facial mask still on, bathrobe tied tightly.
but it’s not the pizza guy, it’s yuri behind the door and otabek can fucking almost see the image he’s built for himself slipping through his fingers and yuri’s interest deflating.
but, in reality, yuri barely blinks an eye at the sight of otabek, just leans in really close to his face and goes “yo beka, that looks bomb af, what’s it made of? can i try too?” before inviting himself in and putting a takeaway bag of chicken soup on his dining table. when otabek remembers how to talk, he asks yuri why’s he here.
yuri turns around and smiles a little shyly.
“well, you said you were sick so i thought you might some company and food. besides, i’m too old to run around clubs all weekend long but i still wanted to spend time with you, so”