Disclaimer: characters do not belong to me
Draco always knew he came as second best – he had his whole life. Second to his father, second in his classes, second to most of those he knew. Second in favour. So it didn't hurt too badly to be second best once again.
He supposed he ought to feel lucky. He had more than most – he'd survived the war, had a job, a house, a family. What did it matter if he was second best to the one he loved? He'd take second best, if it meant he could hold onto him.
But it did matter, it mattered a lot. Because Draco was second best to someone else, and he had to share his love. Someone already had first place – she had his name, and she was the one he ran home to see. She had his mornings, his daytimes, and sometimes…sometimes Draco had his nights.
So Draco hid behind a false family – a fake wife and a son he never meant to have – whilst his love had a real family, three children and a wife. A family he was happy in, one he stayed with, barring the infrequent nights that he snuck away to see Draco.
Draco was, in every sense, a dirty little secret. Something to hide from the missus, something the kids should never find out about. No one who mattered, no one who meant anything. Just a few nights in some hotel room when he could get away.
He'd never meant to end up like this, but it started with brief encounters back in school that somehow carried on. Something Draco needed but his lover seemingly did not. Because it didn't mean anything. It never had.
And when the days passed by, Draco tried not to think of him in her arms. And when he rushed away in the predawn light, Draco tried not to think of the person he was rushing home to.
Draco had tried to leave, tried to walk away, tried not to need him but it never worked. It always came down to the fact that he'd take a few brief hours of being second best, even with all the guilt and pain, than having none at all. Because Draco loved him, and he always had.
When they met in public, Draco couldn't meet her eyes. He was the stain on the marriage, the eventual break-up of their happy home. He was, if you will, the 'other woman'. He was pathetic and weak, breaking others apart for his own selfish needs.
And when he went home, he kissed his son on the head and tucked him in before going into his own room where he would think about his last encounter with Harry Potter.
And if he was second best, he knew, he should feel blessed to be any best at all.