Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by J. K. Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books and Warner Brothers, Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Author's note: This fic is written in honour of Veritas03's birthday. This is just my little way of saying thanks for her encouragement and friendship. Happy birthday, darling! You'll notice that I used one of the drabble prompts that I sent you. This was what I had in my mind as a response, albeit it a tad longer. LOL. *hugs*

Thank you also to Alisanne for her encouragement and support as well, not to mention the all-important beta. *hugs you, too*

I am truly blessed with wonderful friends.

Better Out than In

Draco had never kissed a boy. But it wasn't for lack of want. Oh no, the desire had always been there, or so it seemed to Draco. The real reason that he had not acted upon his natural instincts was that, as a Malfoy, it simply wasn't done. Lucius' hatred of homosexuality had been ingrained in Draco's psyche at a very young age, and so he was very careful to be the perfect 'Malfoy' at all times. When he was older, Draco always found it ironic that his father was perfectly willing to let him follow the Dark Lord and commit all sorts of unspeakable, heinous acts, but Merlin forbid that he should be, in Lucius' words, a perverted, disgusting faggot.

Lucius did his job well, and so his true-to-the-name Malfoy son took a pure-blood wife and sired a pure-blood Malfoy heir to carry on the family name. His father was as proud as one of the peacocks that used to grace the lawns of the manor; his mother doted upon her grandson, relishing in her new role as grand-mère. And Draco was utterly miserable, Scorpius being the one and only bright spot in his existence.

The years went by and Draco played the part of dutiful son and husband, going through the motions and doing what was expected of him, always being that perfect Malfoy. Until one day, soon after Scorpius left Hogwarts, he could take it no more. Draco announced to his wife, then his son, and finally his parents that he wanted out of the marriage. His declaration was met with tears and much pleading for him to stay, but Draco would have none of it. His mind was made up. However, when asked for the reasons why he was leaving, he still could not face his father and speak the truth.

Even living on his own, Draco was still reluctant to come out. He kept telling himself that tomorrow would be the day, but tomorrow never seemed to arrive. Each night he promised himself that he would go to a club and attempt to meet another wizard, and each night he found himself in his local, nursing a pint or two instead.

One evening, Draco was shocked to see Harry Potter slide into a booth. He watched him order, down his drink, and then order another, making short work of that one as well. Potter then left, never noticing Draco studying him from across the pub. The same scenario played out for four nights in a row. On the fifth night, Draco decided that he would sit in a different spot, one where Potter would be sure to see him. And sure enough, Potter did, a look of surprise gracing his face before he nodded a greeting, which Draco promptly returned.

Draco fully expected never to see Potter again, but the former Gryffindor showed up at the same time every, nodded his usual hello, drank and then left. It became a routine, one during which Draco couldn't help but notice how good Potter looked. He had aged well, his salt-and-pepper hair suiting him nicely. He was muscular, but not overly so, and wore well-tailored Muggle clothing in lieu of robes. Potter's appearance pleased Draco immensely, and it wasn't long before Draco found himself looking forward to his almost-encounters with Potter with great anticipation.

One such evening, Potter arrived and took up his usual place, giving Draco the nodded greeting. However, this time, he varied from the routine. When Potter left, he murmured, "Malfoy."

Draco quickly said, "Potter," and then watched him beat a hasty retreat out the door.

Draco found himself oddly pleased with the exchange. The reason for his pleasure escaped him, though. After all, two words hardly counted as a conversation. Shaking his head, he finished his pint and went home, falling asleep that night with a smile on his lips.

As time went by, Draco realised that he had developed a serious crush on Potter. And a crush was all that it was, Draco was sure. He felt quite foolish over it, too, but shrugged it off as being caused by loneliness. There was no way in hell that he had any chance for more with the man – Head Auror Harry Potter was straight as an arrow, not bent like him. Draco sighed and vowed to check out the new club that had opened up in Diagon Alley the following night. He needed to get a life.

In spite of his resolution, Draco yet again found himself all but ogling the object of his affections in the pub. Potter seemed a bit off that night, fidgety and restless. As Draco was pondering the possible cause for this, Potter took a swig of his drink, rose from his seat and headed towards him. Draco's heartbeat quickened.

"Mal…Draco," said Potter, "I was wondering if I might join you tonight? I mean, we're both in here almost every night and it seems a shame to sit alone."

He called me Draco! Draco gestured to the seat opposite him. "Please, Harry."

Sitting down, Harry signalled for another round. There was an awkward silence in which the two men smiled and played with their glasses. Harry cleared his throat.

"I, erm, read about your divorce in the Prophet. I'm sorry," said Harry.

"Don't be," replied Draco. "Neither of us was happy. It's for the best."

Harry nodded.

"And what about you?" inquired Draco. "Why is the illustrious Head Auror, Harry Potter, spending his evenings in a backstreet pub? Isn't the wife on your case about it?"

"You don't know? It was in all the papers."

"Papers? I don't read those rags!" said Draco with disdain.

"Ah, that explains it. Ginny and I are divorced as well. And before you say it, it was for the best, same as you."

"In that case, I propose a toast. To our ex-wives, may they find happiness." Draco held up his glass to Harry.

Harry did the same. "Hear, hear. May we as well."

"May we as well," echoed Draco, smiling. After a beat, he said, "So tell me all about the exciting life of an Auror…"

And with that, they lapsed deep into conversation, Harry regaling Draco with Auror tales, and Draco sharing the inner workings of Gringotts. The conversation was easy, flowing as freely as the drinks. Anyone listening in would have taken the men for lifelong friends, not for two people who had never been cordial.

After a lull, Harry asked, "So, are you seeing anyone at the moment?"

"No, I'm afraid not."

"Just haven't found the right woman yet, eh?"

Normally, Draco would have evaded answering such a question. But he was so relaxed and having such a good time, the drink also having loosened his tongue, that he replied, "It's a bit difficult finding one with a pair of bollocks and a cock."

Harry's eyes widened as realisation apparently hit him. "You…you mean to tell me that you're gay?"

"Keep your voice down, and yes, yes I am."

Harry burst out laughing. "Sweet Merlin, that's rich. I can't believe it!"

Draco stiffened and stood, making to leave. "I won't be ridiculed, Potter," he spat.

Harry's hand grabbed Draco's arm, and a frisson of energy shot through him. "Wait. Sit back down; you don't understand," pleaded Harry.

"I understand enough to know you're making fun of me."

"That's not why I was laughing, Draco. I'm hardly in a position to —" Harry stopped short. "But of course! You wouldn't know since you don't read the papers!"

"Get to the point, Potter, so that I may leave."

"I'm gay, too. Caused a right scandal when I came out, it did."

Draco sank slowly into his seat, a world of possibilities coming to life at Harry's words. All of his fantasies, his dreams were no longer so far-fetched. There was a chance!

"That still doesn't explain why you were laughing."

"Don't you see it? What are the odds that both you and I end up leaving our wives because we're gay? They're astronomical is what they are. That's why I was laughing – the situation is so improbable and yet here we are."

"It is quite something, isn't it?" Draco agreed.

"So, tell me, Draco, have you met Mr Right?"

"No," Draco lied. "What about you?"

"Nope. But my eyes are always wide open."

"Have you been… on many dates?"

"Some," answered Harry.

Draco nodded, somewhat envious.

"And you, Draco?"

"I've never been out with another wizard, never even been kissed." As soon as the words left his mouth, Draco was horrified. How could he just have admitted that, and to Harry Potter of all people? Idiot, he chastised himself.

"But why not? I don't understand, a good-looking man such as yourself would have no trouble at all finding companionship."

Draco blushed at Harry's compliment, hating his body for betraying him. He sighed and replied, "It's a very long story."

"I have the time, if you'd like to share it with me."

Draco gazed at Harry, who was smiling at him encouragingly, and began to speak, opening his heart and telling his sad tale.

"But that's not fair!" cried Harry when Draco had finished. "Me, I've only recently figured out that I'm gay, but you, you've always known and have had to deny your true self all your life. I won't say what I'm thinking about your father right now."

"Probably all the things that I think from time to time," Draco said. "Anyway, that explains my lack of…experience."

Harry was silent for a moment and then looked over at Draco, his mouth quirked in a wry smile. "I'd like to remedy that situation."

"Pardon?" he asked, not believing his ears.

Sliding his hand across the table, Harry grasped Draco's fingers gently. "I'd like to give you your first kiss, if you'll let me."

Draco's heart leapt, the blood pounding in his ears. "W-what? Right here in the middle of the Claw and Dragon? People will see us!"

"Not a problem," said Harry, waving his hand. "Notice-Me-Not Charm, no one will pay us any mind. What do you say, Draco?"

Swallowing hard, Draco replied, "I think I'd like that very much."

Harry stood, pulling Draco up with him. He reached out and caressed Draco's jaw gently, smiling when Draco shivered. The embrace began slowly, tentatively at first, quickly becoming a deeper, true soul kiss. Draco's world shrunk and the only two people in it were he and Harry, nothing else existed, nothing else mattered, nothing else could compare to the sensations he was feeling at the moment. Only the need to breathe caused them to separate.

"I have a confession to make," said Harry.

"Oh?" asked Draco, suddenly concerned.

"Don't worry, it's nothing bad." His voice dropping to a whisper, Harry murmured, "I've been wanting to do that since the first moment I saw you here."

Draco sighed in relief, closing his eyes and placing his forehead against Harry's. "So have I."

Harry answered Draco's own confession with another kiss, and then said, "So come back to my flat with me. Let me be your first everything."

Draco didn't have to think twice. "Yes!"

After cancelling the Notice-Me-Not Charm and paying the bill, Harry Side-Along-Apparated them both back to his place, where he spent the night and a good part of the next day making love to Draco, patiently showing him the pleasures his body had to offer. It was all so much more than Draco had ever imagined.

They fell fast and hard for one another, quickly becoming inseparable. For him to be truly free to be with Harry, Draco knew that the time had come for him to come out to his family. With great determination and a good amount of trepidation as well, he told first Scorpius, who took the news in his stride, followed by his ex-wife, Astoria. She listened and then wished Draco well, saying that his confession explained much, making her realise that her failed marriage had not been her fault after all. Naturally, Narcissa and Lucius were the hardest to tell. When Draco had said all that he had to say, Lucius calmly rose, stated that he had no son, and then left the room, a sobbing Narcissa trailing after.

Harry consoled Draco, holding him tight and whispering soft words of comfort. His parents' actions had hurt immensely, there was no denying that. However, at the same time, Draco felt a tremendous relief. He was at long last free to be who and what he was. He had done his family duty and now it was his turn to be happy, to love and be loved. He had found his soul mate and the future looked bright. It was a new Draco Malfoy that Harry Potter held that night.

Draco had never kissed a boy, but he had kissed a man, and oh, it was glorious.

Fin