Chapter 1 – No Where Else
Another horrific night. Ron walked alone down a darkened street, shouts and fading music behind him as he shivered slightly, digging his hands further into his pockets. Why did he let himself get talked into these incredible misguided nights out with the twins? It was bad enough that they made the worst gay jokes imaginable and scared away any potential guys, but then they had to pair off and leave him without any company for the journey back.
A moan stopped him in his tracks. Turning to the source of the noise, he poked his head into an alley way and squinted in the twilight. It took him a while to recognise the heap against the alley wall, sliding slowly and hilariously drunkenly to the floor.
"Malfoy?" There was no reaction from the pile of robe and bones so the red-head shuffled closer, prodding inquisitively with his foot. A blond head lolled up into the dim light before drooping down again. Yep. Definitely Malfoy. Wow. He hadn't seen Draco that drunk since…well, the last time he'd been drunk had been at the Sixth Year Christmas Party, and he hadn't even been that far gone. Ron still remembered his firewhisky breath on his neck and face as they made out in an empty classroom, clumsy hands and messy kisses as they both swayed almost in time to the distant music penetrating through the door carelessly left ajar.
"Weaaasssaleee?" Pulled from his memories by a far-gone blond, something stirred in the red-head's gut and despite his sober logic warning him, he bent down and helped up the muttering heap. He hadn't been with the Slytherin since the end of sixth year, come to think of it, he hadn't seen the blond at all after the war ended six months ago. Is this where he'd been spending his time? With difficulty, they reached the street and Ron stopped them, venturing.
"Well, where to?" Laughing in a disturbingly uncharacteristically care-free way, almost giggling, Malfoy snorted a few times before leaning hard against his old fuckbuddy and tried to whisper seductively.
"Yours, sssexy!" Biting back a grin, thinking delightedly of how to blackmail the Slytherin later, Ron replied more steadily than he felt.
"No you silly thing," He couldn't resist the endearment Malfoy usually would have hexed him for, "you're way to drunk for-" But the mess had straightened up and half-leapt onto his moving lips, pressing hard as if trying to engulf his face. For a blissful few moments, the Gryffindor was lost in the electrical shocks making him shiver, he could faintly hear the distant music from that Sixth Year Party so long ago; but then the not-quite drunk part of his mind made him pull away. "No, come on-" This time he was slammed up against the wall, the drunk's hands everywhere at once, running through his hair and stroking his face, running down his neck and down his sides. Completely giving up on being sensible, the red-head joined in, pushing back with hungry lips, fingers rubbing against that smooth fabric across Malfoy's back. Turning his head slightly to gain a free corner of his mouth he breathed. "Long time no shag." Groaning, the blond stood even higher on his tiptoes to regain control of the taller's mouth, fingers in the red hair tightening.
"Yours." He repeated, determinedly. That time, the red-head didn't object.
The sun shone fiercely on his face.
"Oh sweet Merlin." His croak made the blond's eyes flicker under closed lids, soon he began groaning too. Gingerly, the ginger sat up, wincing at the pounding in his head as the other turned his face into the pillow away from the light protruding through the thin curtains.
"Turnofftheliii-g-ght." Looking down on his old…his old lover, Ron almost snorted, it was so like Malfoy to re-clothe himself after sex, even when blind drunk. Still, he got up shakily and pulled on some jeans himself, not wanting to be more vulnerable. He heard the bed springs creak and saw the blond stumbling over some discarded clothes, coughing and blinking. Based on the rare occasions they'd wake up together, Ron knew that the Slytherin desperately needed the bathroom.
"Urgh, is this where you live?" The unwanted guest snarled unpleasantly from the hall. Grunting, not even hurt by the remark, Ron sighed, rubbing his face as he pottered to the kitchen. He was so hungry. "Seriously weasel I think my old house elf had better accomo-" Half-throwing a saucepan on the hob, the red-head said forcefully through the stabbing pain in his head.
"Hey! As I remember it, it was you who insisted on coming here!" The blond sank into a chair at the table and almost sighed disdainfully, his voice dry but as venomous as usual.
"Yeah, because that sounds like something I'd do, kidnap you to your own stink-hole and-" Ron turned to glare as he growled warningly.
"I'm not in the mood Malfoy." The blond, eyes closed, merely made a face as he rubbed his forehead. Ron turned back to the stove and began heating up some oil.
"Got any potion?" The cook didn't reply as he rummaged through the fridge for eggs and bacon until a low whining noise forced him to sigh and snap.
"No, just drink some water and eat some eggs-."
"Potion!" If he wasn't so hung over and exhausted the red-head would have laughed at the childish shout. Lips twisting angrily the cook threw some ingredients into the pan, poured two glasses of water and set one down roughly in front of the moody blond. Arms crossed and forehead creased the faux-toddler looked like he was about to argue but the stressed mother-figure had already turned back to the hob and was now tossing the pan, which was smelling quite appetising. The two didn't speak as they ate, though Malfoy made a few disgusted faces as he picked at the food he did actually eat some of it.
"What's that?" Ron felt his shoulders tense as the blond spoke again, his voice having regained its usual strength. The Slytherin had spotted a delicate silver bracelet next to some keys on a little tray on the table and felt his stomach turn at the thought of sitting at the same table as that bushy-haired freak. "Tell me this isn't the mudblood's!" Cracking, the blue eyes flared as he stood abruptly, raising a shaking hand and pointing to the door and yelling.
"Get out!" The blond sat up straighter, genuinely stunned but the sudden order.
"What?"
"You heard me, get out!"
"No! No I won't leave!" This confused Ron more than any insult or attempt to undermine him. Draco never liked being told what to do, but he was insisting a bit too hard. Why did he even want to stay? He'd already got what he'd come for. The blond was going on, almost speaking to himself. "You can't make me!" Ron snarled, of course he could! It was his flat!
"Go! I-" He was stopped by the other's expression. Then the tears. Confusion and fear fought in his chest; Draco wasn't crying, he didn't cry, he never cried! He was withdrawn and depressed at times and there had been an occasion when he hadn't resisted Ron's attempt to hug him. But, this…there had never been anything like this. Clear droplets of pain were bubbling and arrowing down the blond's cheeks in quick succession as the voice, that familiar voice began to break.
"The thing is…I've, got, nowhere else to go." Ron couldn't forget everything that had come before, the insults and disregard for himself; he shouldn't…he couldn't just…Without even ordering it to, his body took him over to the collapsed figure and pulled it close. Wrapping his strong arms around the shaking man, Ron knew that he was probably making a big mistake. But fuck it; he just couldn't kick him out like this. He could help an old boyfr… an old lover out, if only for a while. He cooed in hushed tones as he rocked them slightly to and fro.
"It's ok, you can stay with me. Shhh, it's ok, you can stay with me. It's ok, sshhh, I'll let you stay…"