A/N: Hi guys! This is my first ever fic on this site. I originally sat down to write some very serious big person work, and this came out instead. Ah, to have even a modicum of self control!
This is unbeta'd (how do you even spell that?), so any typos/mistakes are entirely my own. Feel free to point them out to me! I hope you enjoy! And yes, there are more chapters coming (but hopefully AFTER I've written my very serious big person work, so I don't get fired...).
As always, I am obviously not doing this for profit, these characters are not my own (except one) etc etc etc please don't sue me.
"Just a little bit more," Harry coaxed, flashing what he hoped was his most charming smile. Pansy snorted and turned away to hide it. Jason only raised his eyebrows.
"More? Good lord, you're serious. There's a whole fucking inch of chocolate on this thing already, Harry."
"I've had a bad day?" Harry offered.
"It's only 6:30 in the bloody morning, and it's Friday to boot." Jason grumbled with annoyance, but he acquiesced and attempted to empty the chocolate powder shaker all over Harry's coffee. "Why don't you just get a hot chocolate? You know, and be done with this," he made some exasperated flailing motions, "coffee charade."
"I genuinely think he gets more pleasure from forcing you to mutilate your hard work than he does actually drinking it." Pansy put it in helpfully before Harry had a chance to answer. Harry poked his tongue out at her. "I mean, that is truly excessive," she added, looking pointedly at his chocolate-powder-coffee monstrosity before throwing Jason a wink. "We should probably start charging him a little extra, hm?" Jason smiled hopefully, and then his face fell.
"I was hoping for a moment you were serious," he sighed in mock exasperation, but there was a smile fighting at the corners of his mouth, and Harry realised with a start just how much he liked these two. He'd be the first to admit that he and Pansy were one of the more unlikely friendships to have blossomed out of their Hogwarts crowd, but somehow it just worked. He could still remember the first time he'd walked into the muggle cafe and seen Pansy Parkinson with an apron around her waist, a pen behind her ear and a genuine smile on her face. To say he was shocked would have been the understatement of the whole millenium, but having just moved into the muggle area he'd found the sight of another magical person - albeit a Slytherin who'd hated him for six years - oddly comforting. That first meeting he'd meant to attempt friendliness, ignore their past, and say "I didn't expect to see you here," or maybe something wittier like "they always told me to expect the unexpected!" But to Harry's eternal chagrin, the first words to leave his mouth had been "I can't believe you tried to sell me out to Voldemort." He also remembered that far from getting a slap in the face or a public screaming match, Pansy had shocked him further by doubling over laughing and telling him to "please, fuck off". Nine months later he had done no such thing and he was, to both their amusement, a regular.
He turned back to her on his way out. "Are you two coming to Draco's tonight?"
"We weren't invited, for some unfathomable reason." She replied airily, with a definite twinkle in her eyes.
Harry barked out a laugh. This was a story he was looking forward to hearing. "So I'll see you at 8, yeah?"
"With bells on!"
Fortified by the combination of chocolate and coffee, Harry made his way back out into the miserable cold of early morning London and carefully tucked his scarf into his jacket to stop it whipping him in the face. He couldn't remember when he'd become an early riser, but now he just couldn't imagine sleeping in. He felt dirty if he slept past 8am, but quite apart from that he felt there was something special about being up and about before everyone else. It's like you're sharing a special secret with the world, he mused. Then paused, realising how utterly soppy that sounded, and you really need to get out more, he supposed tragically.
Cupping his hands around the warm cup and shaking his head with a smile, Harry made his way to work. Time to face the serpents.
Harry knocked on the door at 4:31 pm exactly. It opened to reveal Draco Malfoy in a soft grey jumper and worn jeans, holding an enormous jar of jelly snakes. "You'd better come in, Mr Punctuality-is-for-pussies," Draco provoked.
"One minute is not late!" protested Harry.
"Well, the credits have already started!" retorted a smiling Draco, who followed Harry into the lounge room where they collapsed onto one of Draco's huge comfortable couches in a chaotic tangle of limbs. The red fabric of the couch was faded with age, and some bits were worn through to reveal the sickly green stuffing within, but the couch was by the far the most comfortable Harry had ever had the pleasure of lounging in. And he and Draco certainly lounged in this one. Friday afternoon movie time was a weekly tradition between the two of them that began the first time Draco had figured out (with Harry's help) that investing in a DVD player and a television would not only keep up appearances of normalcy with his muggle neighbours, but would also mean that he could watch as many ridiculously soppy romantic comedies as he wanted. In private. These afternoons had started out as oddly formal affairs, back when their friendship was tentative. But a year of living across the hallway from each other and having Pansy as a mutual friend had morphed their carefully constructed civility into a truly comfortable friendship. Sure, they still snarked and prodded and irritated the hell out of each other, but that's just how they worked. And friday movies had become a feet-on-the-seats, swearing-is-mandatory, chuck-jelly-snakes-at-the-bad-guys-on-tv kind of affair. It was their wind-down time and they both loved it.
"How were the snakes today?" Draco asked, prodding Harry gently with his foot.
"Yeah, good." Harry replied with a tired smile, "Herbie sends his best wishes, Jemima thinks you should start to think about settling down, and Smokey is having a mid-life crisis, I think."
Draco laughed. "How exactly does a snake have a mid-life crisis?"
"Oh, you know," Harry began vaguely, and Draco shook his head to indicate that no, actually, he didn't know. "He keeps wishing he were a prettier snake, a thinner snake, a faster snake. If he could get a tattoo, buy a fast car and sign up for those early morning bootcamps targeted at the middle-aged I'm convinced he would. Classic mid-life crisis," Harry snorted.
Draco had always understood that parseltongue meant being able to communicate with snakes, but before befriending Harry he'd never quite grasped that snakes actually had things to communicate. And before Harry's job as a reptile keeper at the local reptile park, he'd never even considered that he might grow quite fond of a few of the nuttier ones.
"You can tell Jemima that I'll settle down when I damn well feel like it," Draco replied lazily, "and please don't let Smokey start driving," he added with a touch of concern. Harry laughed, but it turned into a groan when he saw the title screen of the movie.
"We're not really watching Must Love Dogs again, are we?" he asked. Draco just gave him a prim look. "I really need to get you some more material," Harry muttered.
"Well for now, shut up, it's already started." Draco replied, and regardless of the prior protests, Harry settled in to watch with a smile on his face.
Having seen the movie at least twice before, Harry found his attention wandering from the screen and inevitably settling on the man beside him. Draco had grown up since the war. It seemed an obvious thing to say, but it was definitely of note. The most obvious change was his physical appearance; while he was still pale and angular, Draco had filled his face beautifully. His whole face lit up in the most incredible way when he smiled, which he now did surprisingly often. His fine blonde hair was no longer slicked back, but it remained perfectly styled even without hair gel - artfully framing his features - which irritated and impressed Harry in equal parts. Draco was still thin, but it was a toned, fit kind of slender rather than the awkward lanky of his school days. He had a relaxed confidence about him that was vastly removed from the uptight arrogance of his former self. He was also living in muggle London and loving it, despite working under a potions professor in a Medicinal Potions apprenticeship and having been offered a residence on Diagon Alley. He was the same man, yet he was completely different, and Harry couldn't help but be fascinated.
Unfortunately, Draco was totally straight. Not that Harry had ever really had the courage to ask, but Pansy assured him it was true. Besides, Harry hadn't even told Draco he was gay. It wasn't as if he was actively trying to keep it a secret, he'd just never really known how to bring it up and he didn't want to jeopardise their comfortable friendship. Normally Draco would have found out anyway through Pansy's big fat no-secrets mouth, but for once in her life Pansy had decided that this was Harry's business to tell. Fuck, he's beautiful, thought Harry, unable to take his eyes off the other man. He shuddered slightly as he imagined telling Pansy that particular piece of information. As long as I'm not too obvious when I ogle his arse, no-one should find out. Or so he hoped. God, but it is a nice arse. Harry nearly groaned.
Harry felt the man in question stretch languidly beside him, and tried valiantly to get his heartbeat back under control. He felt sure the other man could hear it, it was so loud. Harry was fighting to banish his increasingly inappropriate thoughts when he felt Draco reach out and place a hand on his knee.
"Coffee?" the blonde asked.
"Merlin, yes please," Harry responded quickly as they made their way to the kitchen. Harry leant against the counter as he watched Draco rummage around for the coffee and the plunger. His eyes definitely did not linger on the stretch of pale skin revealed just above the waistline of his jeans as Draco reached for the mugs on the top shelf. "So," Harry began casually, "is Pansy coming over tonight?"
"I certainly didn't invite her, or her meddling barista boyfriend." Draco responded tartly, but the smile was evident in his voice.
"What did they do this time? Was it another barmaid?" Harry asked with a grin, helping spoon the coffee grind into the plunger while Draco attended to the kettle.
"Worse," Draco grimaced, turning back to face Harry. "She was a proud prostitute, and while I have nothing against prostitutes as people, I don't appreciate having my junk squeezed before we've even said hello." Harry forced a laugh, even as his gut twisted thinking about other people's hands on Draco Malfoy's junk. He did his best to ignore it.
"Remind me to refuse all of Pansy's attempts at set ups." Harry chuckled.
"A wise move," nodded Draco sagely. "And Jason is even worse. I don't want to even imagine where they find these people, or how those conversations go." Draco looked genuinely traumatised, and a sincere laugh escaped Harry.
"You could always say no, you realise," offered Harry with a smile. "You don't have to go to these horrifying attempts at dates. Tell Pansy you're tired, or busy, or that you don't like being fondled in public."
"Ah, but she knows that I do!" Draco winked at Harry and Harry nearly choked, causing Draco to laugh. Real smooth, Potter. "Besides, I can't just say no," said Draco matter-of-factly, turning back to pour the coffee. "Or I get accused of being too in love with you to want to experience the rest of the world." Harry was immensely grateful that Draco was no longer facing him, because he could feel the flush flooding his cheeks and he knew his willing it to go away was in vain. "Which is, of course, ridiculous," Draco added seemingly as an afterthought.
"Pretty ridiculous, yeah," said Harry faintly, suddenly finding the hem of his sleeve fascinating. He was going to kill Pansy.
They made their way back to the lounge room in silence, cradling their coffees. Harry had managed to locate the chocolate powder he'd bought for Draco - well, ostensibly bought for Draco - and had dowsed the top of his coffee with it. He smiled cheerily as he licked some of it off.
"Actually," Draco mused suddenly, "Why don't you get forced on blind dates?" Harry's smile froze.
"I've been forced on a few," Harry admitted.
"Really?" Draco looked genuinely surprised and... was that hurt? "When? You've never spoken to me about them. I complain about mine all the time."
Harry stared hard into his chocolate coated coffee. He couldn't bring himself to meet Malfoy's eyes. The real reason Harry had never spoken about his dates was because they were with men, and he had no idea how the other man would react to that.
Just tell him, thought Harry irritably. He's your friend because he genuinely enjoys your company. Surely that won't change just because he finds out you're gay. It's not like you'll tell him you have a crush the size of England on him and an overwhelming desire to remove his clothes. Harry looked to the ceiling while he tried to muster his courage, Besides, he has to find out some time, and it really should be from you. Harry had just prepared himself come straight out and say it when Draco resumed talking, obviously unaware of Harry's internal struggle.
"Unless you get all the good ones, and they send me off with all the ones they don't deem fit enough for you?" Draco was looking at him with an air of indignance. There was an pause.
"No, we definitely get the same sorts of people," Harry hedged eventually with a tight smile, remembering his last date's fascination with leather and ties. Merlin, that guy had been hot, Harry reminisced. If only he'd been blonde, too. Harry nearly groaned aloud at the images that forced their way to the front of his mind quite without his permission. Draco in leather. Draco tied up and begging. Oh fucking fuck. Harry shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He hoped to hell his crossed legs were cover enough for the growing bulge in his pants. Just tell him you're bent. As straight as a handbag full of fucking rainbows.
"Oh come on," frowned Draco. "Harry, we talk about everything. You're my best friend by a decent margin. I-..." Draco's cheeks reddened, shocking Harry. He didn't think he'd ever seen composed, confident Draco look embarrassed before. Draco huffed. "Merlin, this shouldn't be so hard. I love this," The blonde motioned between them, cheeks glowing brighter despite his obvious attempts at being casual. "I love that I can talk to you about almost anything. That we can spend friday nights watching stupid movies and eating food we should've grown out of 10 years ago." He held up a jelly snake and neatly bit off its head. "I tell you things I wouldn't dare tell anyone else. Maybe it's stupid, considering everything that's happened between us, but I trust you more than I trust anyone else in the world." Draco paused to take a deep breath, and Harry let go of the one he'd been holding in. They didn't do this. They'd never done this. They spoke about almost everything, including their feelings, but only ever in regards to other people. Never each other!
Draco was absolutely his best friend and his favourite person in the world, and Harry suspected it worked the other way around as well. But they'd never said it to each other's faces. It was just assumed, just like it was assumed that if they ever tried to actually talk about their feelings for each other - however platonic they may be - they'd probably say something stupid and fuck it all up.
"We should be able to talk about sex, too," Draco continued bluntly, and Harry nearly choked on his coffee. "We talk about everything else! And even I talk about sex," Draco said somewhat suspiciously after a moment's thought. "But you clam up the moment anyone says the word vagina. Why don't you want to talk to me about it? Are you really that embarrassed? We talk about wanking all the time, what's the difference? Do you just not trust me?" Draco looked hard at Harry, obviously upset. Just tell him, Harry chanted to himself, tell him tell him tell him tell him tell him.
"You've never really asked," he said instead. God damn it.
"I'm asking now," Draco replied evenly.
"There is a difference between the people Pansy sets you up with, and the people she sets me up with," Harry began slowly, heart in his mouth. "We both get the interesting ones, only you get the women and I get-" Harry trailed off, staring worriedly at Draco and waiting for him to fill in the obvious blank.
"Yes?" Draco prompted, oblivious.
"The men," Harry finished, holding his breath. "She sets me up with the men."
Harry only just resisted the urge to bury his face in the back of the couch, choosing instead to pick up his mug and stare so intently at the contents that anyone would've thought the coffee had personally offended him. There was silence. Harry finally mustered up an ounce of courage from somewhere, and glanced up at Draco.
Who staring at him incredulously.
"You're gay," the blonde said flatly. It wasn't a question, so Harry didn't answer. "You're gay?" Draco repeated, almost angrily, and this time it was definitely a question.
"Yes," snapped Harry defiantly. "I am." This was really, really not how he'd wanted it to go down.
"What the fuck, why didn't you tell me?!" Draco was standing now, fists balled at his sides as he paced the lounge room. The tension was palpable, and Harry couldn't believe they'd been so normal not ten minutes ago.
"Because I thought you'd react badly," Harry remarked pointedly, refusing to lose his cool.
"I can't believe this!" Draco threw his hands in the air, somehow still managing to look graceful as fuck. Harry wanted to punch him. "You're gay, and you decided to keep that from me? You decided that that was not a thing I should probably know?"
"I thought you'd react badly," Harry repeated. "And it seems I wasn't all that far off." He was surprised when he felt his eyes prickle hotly, and fought hard to keep himself under control. It was hard to admit how much he wanted Draco's approval.
Draco seemed to come back to himself, and slid down in front of the couch until he was sitting on the carpet, holding his knees. He turned to look at Harry, and they caught each other's stare. Harry realised that they were probably both close to tears. He still didn't feel better.
"I didn't-..." Draco started. Stopped. Took a deep breath. "This isn't what I-..." He broke off again. His head fell into his hands, and despite everything Harry still had the urge to run his fingers through the blonde hair that fell in disarray around the other man's now hidden face. Draco finally seemed to compose himself and turned to face Harry earnestly. "Harry, I don't care that you're gay." He was was looking at Harry as if he could stare the brunette into believing him. "To be honest, I'm just pleased you're not completely asexual," he smiled weakly, as if he'd made a joke. Harry couldn't help himself, he snorted. "I was getting worried, you know," Draco added with a wry smile.
"I'm sure you were."
"I just-... Why didn't you tell me? I feel like I've been completely left out of the loop that is your life, you bastard," Draco nudged him with his elbow, "Pansy knows, doesn't she?" Harry just nodded and Draco sighed ruefully. "Merlin, it all makes sense now. But you're my best friend, Potter; nothing in the world can change that. I just want you to trust me a little bit. I trust you, you know." He gave Harry the most beautiful lopsided smile and Harry almost forgot how to breathe.
"Come here," the brunette muttered roughly, grabbing Draco's hand and hauling him up onto the couch. "You mean a lot to me, and I'm sorry I kept it from you," he added as pulled Draco in for a hug. He felt the vibrations of Draco's relieved laughter through his chest, and Harry thought he might just burst.
Harry came out of his doze as he heard the key chink in the lock, accompanied by the unmistakeable sound of Pansy's laughter. He realised with confusion that the wonderfully warm weight on his chest was actually another person, and it eventually dawned on him that he and Draco had fallen asleep together on Draco's couch, still wrapped up awkwardly in each other's arms. Well, this is new. Harry felt his cock stir involuntarily, and prayed fervently to every lord he knew of that Draco was still unconscious. Harry barely had time to register that thought before Pansy's shriek broke the gentle silence of the flat.
"OH SWEET MERLIN'S -" was as far as she got before Jason muffled the rest of the sentence with his hand.
"It's not quite what it looks like!" Harry called groggily, by which time Draco had woken up, looked long at Harry, and pushing himself up to stand. The contact was immediately missed and Harry groaned, willing his erection away.
"I thought I said you weren't welcome," Draco remarked, hiding a yawn. Trying for casual.
"Well now I see why," Pansy wriggled her eyebrows. Draco rolled his eyes.
"Is that coffee I can smell?" Jason asked, completely unconcerned by the whole situation. "I'll have some of that. Where's your sugar, Draco?"
Harry caught Draco's gaze, worried that this was going to be weird and awkward, but Draco just smiled tentatively at him and Harry finally relaxed. They were okay. Draco knew he was gay, they'd just accidentally fallen asleep in each others' arms, and they were still okay. Harry felt like his happiness was probably contagious.
"A prostitute, Pansy? Really?" He called into the kitchen, and laughed as Draco rolled his eyes dramatically. "Apparently she tried to do the date backwards!" He heard Pansy cackle wickedly.
"Harry, dear," she replied, appearing in the doorway and winking saucily at him, "if you want a prostitute next time too, you only have to ask."
"You're both going to hell," Draco announced loudly, to the raucous laughter of the rest of the room.
Well that seemed to go down mighty well, eh? We'll have to wait and see what the next chapter holds ;)
Please review if you liked it! (Or didn't!). I'm new here, so any constructive advice is well needed! :)