Author's Note: 'Ello lovelies, I had the idea for this story bouncing around for a while, and could never really write it until the other night, when I just started writing, and this is what appeared. It was most definitely influenced by the song "Easy" by Rascal Flatts ft. Natasha Bedingfield. You should definitely check it out. Also, this isn't beta'd, so all mistakes are mine. Let me know if you find any.

Disclaimer: As always, Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling—I'm just having some fun with a few original characters of my own.

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The truth is
That I miss lyin' in those arms of his
But I don't ever let it show
I laugh and I act like
I'm having the time of my life
as far as he knows

It's easy goin' out on a Friday night
Easy, everytime I see him out
I can smile, live it up
The way a single girl does
But, what he, what he don't know
is how hard it is to make it look so
Easy

~from "Easy" by Rascal Flatts ft. Natasha Bedingfield

Chapter 1: Draco

Throwing back his head, Draco downed another shot a fire whiskey. Ignoring the chatter from his friends around him, his eyes settled on a large group across the room. His steely gaze sought out one man in particular—the jet black hair as unruly as ever, Harry's eyes were closed as he lost himself in the rhythmic beat of the music, and the body of the stranger grinding up against him.

Draco's whole body tensed as anger towards the nameless man coursed through his veins. In his mind, Draco knew this anger was unjustified—Harry wasn't his anymore, and hadn't been for a while now, and whatever feelings he still had for Harry were clearly not reciprocated. Harry seemed to be getting along just fine without him, as evident in the way he was running his hands over his unknown dance partner.

Draco wished he had another glass of alcohol. It wasn't fair; how could he still be so hung up on Harry while Harry had successfully moved on? How could it be so easy for Harry but so bloody difficult for him?

Sensing her friend's inner turmoil, and knowing instinctively where Draco's hate-filled stare was aimed, Pansy turned and focused her attention on Draco, hoping to distract him, at least momentarily.

"Draco, darling, why don't we dance? Maybe you'll attract some fit, attractive bloke." In her mind, she added who will make you forget all about Potter, but not being a total idiot, she didn't vocalize this thought, although she didn't need to—Draco knew exactly what she was thinking which only added to his already foul mood.

Draco cast Pansy an exasperated glance, effectively giving an answer to what he felt was a ridiculous suggestion. Instead, Draco stood up and shouldered he was past Blaise and his new muse, both of whom were too distracted to notice anything. Draco made his way over to the bar, people moving out of his way as he went, all of them sensing he was a man not to be messed with. Arriving at his destination, Draco took a seat at the far end, facing away from the dance floor, though this did nothing to help him forget that someone was currently kissing and licking their way up a neck that used to be, and still should be, his. Just as Draco was starting to get impatient for his drink, the bartender appeared, placing a double in front of Draco.

"This one's on the house, mate." The bartender smirked a little, as Draco raised an eyebrow, "you look like you could use it." With that, the bartender was gone, leaving Draco essentially alone as those around him had picked up the vibes he was giving off, and promptly left the general area—which suited Draco just fine. He was halfway through his drink when he registered someone sliding onto the stool next to him.

"Draco."

"Granger." Draco barely made any movement to acknowledge Hermione's presence, and when she didn't attempt to engage him in further conversation, he asked, "Is there something I can do for you?"

Hermione was unfazed by Draco's snarky question, having become used to his moods. Instead she turned on her stool to face him directly. "Are you all right Draco?" she asked bluntly, seeing no reason to beat around the bush.

Taking another sip of his drink, Draco eyed her suspiciously. "I'm fine, but if you don't mind me asking, why the hell do you care?"

Hermione didn't answer, but the intensity of her gaze had Draco shifting uncomfortably. As the silence continued between them, Draco turned so that he was facing Hermione directly so he could tell her to go away, but in the process caught sight of Harry looking in their direction. Realization dawned on Draco as he looked back to Hermione.

"Potter put you up to this, didn't he? Did he want to make sure I'm okay so he can keep his bloody savior complex in check; if I said I wasn't okay was he going to swoop in and save the day?" Draco shook his head angrily, like hell he would, he thought to himself before continuing "You can tell him that I'm fine, damn it, I've never been better. And the next time any of you are curious as to my wellbeing, don't bother asking because it sure as hell isn't any of your concern."

Draco turned away from her, aware enough to realize that he was dangerously close to losing it completely. Draco gripped his glass tighter, the pounding of blood in his ears so loud that he almost missed what Hermione said next.

"He misses you."

Draco snorted, and took a sip of his drink. Honestly, did Granger really expect him to believe that a man who currently had his tongue down another man's throat missed him?

Hermione, knowing exactly what Draco was thinking, pressed on. "Why don't you talk to him?"

The sheer absurdity of the question had Draco turning to face her once more. "What purpose would that serve exactly? Don't forget Granger, he left me, not the other way around." Draco paused, waiting for Hermione to say something, and when she didn't, he continued, his voice full of self-deprivation, hurt, and anger "If he really misses me, and that's a big if, it's his own damn fault. So if he happens to ask you how I am, tell him to stay the hell away from me because I am fine. Now run on back to the rest of the Golden Trio before they think I've hexed you."

They lapsed back into silence, and when Hermione got up to leave, Draco could see in her face that she wasn't fooled by anything he had said—she knew he wasn't fine, far from it, and concern was clear in her face, but why she cared so much was beyond Draco.

Unless she was telling the truth, a small voice in the back of Draco's mind said with just the smallest glimmer of hope. Looking over his shoulder, Draco scanned the room, looking for Harry, and finding him sitting the lap of the unknown man, he turned back to his drink, calling himself every kind of idiot for allowing that brief moment of hope to cross his mind.

(XXXXX)

Draco was just finishing up his drink when he was interrupted again, this time by Pansy, who was being followed by an undeniably gorgeous man Draco didn't recognize. But after knowing Pansy for as long as he could remember, Draco didn't need to know this man was following her—Pansy's intentions were clear.

"Draco, darling, I wanted to introduce you to someone." Pansy's voice cut through the string of curses going through Draco's mind for letting Pansy talk him into going out with her.

Shooting Pansy another one of his deadly looks, Draco was all set to ignore her, but Pansy wasn't going to take it. Reaching out, she grabbed Draco's shoulder, and spun the stool around so that he was facing her directly. She leaned in so that her face was inches from Draco's and spoke, her voice sickeningly sweet, but underlined with a razor sharp tone warning Draco not to cross her this time.

"I've had enough of you being miserable Draco. Now, I had to call in a few favours to arrange this tonight, so you will not ruin it by being rude, and unsociable. Got it—good."

Before Draco could do or saying anything, Pansy had turned around, an impish smiled plastered in place. Draco sighed and stood up to follow Pansy the few feet to where the mystery man stood, looking somewhat unsure of himself.

"Haiden, this is my friend Draco. Draco, this is Haiden—his sister and I work together." And with basic introductions done, Pansy turned a walked away, leaving the two men standing there awkwardly, and wondering what they got themselves into.

Turning to face Draco, Haiden smiled. "How long have been friends with her?"

"Far too long" was Draco's dry response, and not knowing what else to say, he added, "You want a drink?"

"Sure" and so the two men made their way back to the bar and the place Draco had occupied only moments before.

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Half an hour later, Draco had to hand it to Pansy. Haiden was intelligence, charismatic, quick witted, and incredibly nice to look at. His presence had put Draco in a slightly better mood—in fact, he was in a good enough of a mood that when Haiden suggested they dance, Draco could hardly say no.

Draco led the way to the middle of the dance floor, and fitted himself up against Haiden, whose slightly taller frame spooned Draco perfectly. Draco closed his eyes, and allowed the heat of the bodies around him and the beat of the music to take over, and when he felt hot lips tracing the shell of his left ear, he turned around, grasping tightly to the arms surrounding him, and sought out the lips that were sending shivers down his spine.

Passion and lust filled Draco as tongues dueled for supremacy, and hands roamed freely over bodies, wanting and needing to feel more. Pulling away for the briefest moment, Draco simply nodded when a husky voice whispered "let's get out of here."

Draco hardly noticed the twisting of disapparition, and really wasn't all that concerned where he landed—he trusted the other man to take care of him. All he knew was that he wanted—no, he needed—to feel those lips on his again, he needed to feel hands on bare skin, and the explosion of heat between two bodies.

Draco felt the slight tingle of magic as his clothes slowly disappeared from his body, glad that the other man was apparently just as desperate to continue as he was. Draco walked forward, pushing the other man towards the bed he instinctively knew would be close by, and when the other man fell backwards onto the bedding, Draco let himself be pulled down too.

Rolling over so he was on the bottom, Draco sunk into the mattress and dug his nails into the shoulder blades of the man who was kissing, biting, and sucking his way down Draco's chest, making his way to a far more important piece of anatomy. And when the man reached his prize, Draco's eyes rolled to the back of his head. Oh god, it has been way too long since we've done this Draco thought to himself; out loud, desire and lust permeating every word, he said "I want you now, oh god, I am so ready for you."

And as if on command, Draco felt slight pressure, the briefest moment of pain, and then all-consuming pleasure as the man fully seated himself in Draco. Gasping out his pleasure and his desire for more, Draco made no effort to control his body or his mind as he gave himself over to the fire building inside him. Draco arched up as the fire inside him reached it pinnacle, and he cried out his completion, completely unaware of the man on top of him doing the same, as his orgasm rocked through his body with force that momentarily blinded him.

Breathing heavily, and doing his best to regain control of his body, Draco absent mindedly ran his hands up and down the back of the man collapsed on his chest. Pulling the man up for a drawn out kiss, Draco rolled them over, and once again fitted himself into the man, grasping the hand that was looped around his waist with his own. Draco sighed contently as he felt warm kisses being trailed up his neck.

"God, Dray that was amazing."

Draco's eyes popped open—nobody called him Dray but Harry, and that was definitely not Harry's voice. And all of a sudden, reality hit Draco like the Hogwart's Express—he didn't recognize this bedroom or this bed, it wasn't his or Harry's, and it sure as hell wasn't Harry's arm wrapped tightly around him. Oh shit. Draco squeezed his eyes closed again, hoping that this wasn't happening—not now, not to him. But realizing pretty quickly that it was happening, Draco did his best to control the emotions welling up inside, telling himself that to run out now would make him a complete asshole. Instead, Draco told himself to breathe while mentally berating himself for being so stupid and Pansy for thinking she could make him all better.

(XXXXX)

Draco laid there until he was positive the other man had fallen asleep, and then very slowly extricated himself from the man's grasp. Getting up slowly, Draco looked around for his clothes, and locating them near the door, made his way over to retrieve his wand from his pant pocket. Casting a quick cleaning charm on himself, Draco slipped back into his clothes, not bothering to do up his shirt or put his shoes back on. That done, he turned back towards the bed where the man was still, thankfully, asleep.

Pointing his wand at the man, Draco closed his eyes and concentrated before whispering "Obliviate", ensuring the other man would remember meeting him and having drinks with him, but nothing else. In Haiden's mind, Draco will have left the club alone after their third round of drinks. With that done, Draco turned on the spot, apparating himself to his own flat.

Upon arriving in his bedroom, Draco unceremoniously dropped the things he had been carrying, shrugged off his shirt and made his way towards his bathroom. Stepping out of his trousers, Draco turned the shower on hotter than necessary and stepped in, hissing as the water hit his skin. As the steam billowed up around him, Draco gave himself over to the emotion he had been holding in thus far. His shoulder's shaking, Draco sank to his knees, wrapping his arms protectively around himself, and wishing desperately that another set of arms would appear, pull him close and tell him everything was going to be okay. But Draco knew that those arms were mostly likely holding somebody else close tonight, and so, alone in his shower, Draco let himself cry.