Drinking Buddies

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

A/N: I have worked on this story forever. This is the longest I have ever spent on a one-shot. I've written and rewritten this story a ridiculous amount of times.

Epilogue? What Epilogue? (EWE) Takes place 10 years after the final battle. Harry and Ginny are married, no kids. Draco did have Scorpius.

He sat heavily in his armchair, watching the fire dance, while he nursed his fourth tumbler of firewhiskey. One in the morning and Ginny still wasn't home. 'She's never home...' He closed his eyes and frowned as he fought back the unpleasant thoughts beginning to push on the edges of his mind. The depressing atmosphere in the study of Number Twelve Grimmauld Place refused to lift and seemed steeped in loneliness. Wasn't the loneliness supposed to have gone away when he got married?

Harry jumped out of his seat and started pacing, refusing to follow his normal routine. Tonight he refused to stare at the fire thinking about things that made him nauseous, until he finally gave up on waiting for Ginny to get home and went to bed alone. Tonight was going to be different.

Ginny was cheating on him. He knew it; he felt it in his gut, not to mention the signs that were getting harder and harder to deny. So, why should he stay here? Why shouldn't he go out and have his fun too? He had known she was cheating for longer than he was willing to admit, but had always found a way to reason it away.

Ginny was late because she was working.

Ginny smelled like another man's cologne because she had stood too close to them in the elevator.

Ginny wasn't sleeping next to him because she was dedicated to her job.

Ginny didn't have love bites on her throat, those were bruises. 'Tripped at work love'

...

Ginny was fucking cheating on him.

Harry stormed from his study and made his way to his front door. Slamming it open and storming across his walkway and down the sidewalk, he didn't even turn around as he used wandless magic to shut and relock his door.

He walked blindly down the street ignoring the odd looks he got from his mostly muggle neighbors.

Were wizarding robes really that strange?

He walked with purpose, even if he lacked a destination, head held high and eyes blazing. When he finally stopped to take in his surroundings he was standing in front of a bar. He entered it and made straight for an empty table. An hour later found him in a decidedly better mood as he continued his binge drinking.

Draco Malfoy sat on a bar stool pleasantly buzzed. His only son, Scorpius, was with Draco's parents spending the night. Another of his parents', mostly his mother's, attempts at encouraging him to start dating again. His wife had died almost six years ago giving birth to Scorpius. It had been an arranged marriage and there had been little more than tolerating acceptance between them. Still, it pained him that Scorpius would not know a mother's love. It was one of the things as a grown man he cherished most about his own childhood.

Much to his mother's displeasure he remained single. He simply had no want for a relationship; they were too much work with too little gain. Draco would much rather spend his free time with his baby boy over some boring witch or wizard. Although a break, like now, was enjoyable every now and then. He was already beginning to miss Scorpius though. He had only left Malfoy Manor an hour ago, and already he had enough "adult time" and wanted to be back with his child.

After finishing his drink in one, naturally completely graceful, big gulp, he stood and began to make his way out of the bar. While walking his eyes landed on a corner table near the front of the bar, and Draco had to wonder, "Did someone slip something into my drink?" There was no way that was the Golden Boy over there chugging whiskey like water. It had to be Scarhead though; Draco was far too smart to be drugged. Smirking at the thought of taunting a Gryffindor and feeling smugness swallowing him at the sight of the raven haired man's obvious misery, Draco Malfoy sauntered over to the-Boy-Who-Lived's table.

As he walked, Draco began to imagine how Potter would take his sudden appearance. Openly angry and demand to know why he was there? Quietly furious, before storming out? Try to ignore him and pretend he wasn't there? How would Scarhead take his sudden presence?

When he reached the table he remained standing, towering over the sitting man, who had yet to acknowledge him.

He quickly grew bored of just standing there and attempted to draw Potter's attention to him by clearing his throat. No good, Potter was still solely focused on his drink. After coughing quite loudly several times and still was, what seemed to be sincerely, unnoticed, Draco had had enough and sat in front of Potter uninvited. He was a bloody Malfoy anyways he had only been waiting for an invitation as an empty social gesture; he could do as he pleased.

Potter, finally, looked up at him then. It gave Draco the same thrill it always did to have the other man's attention focused on him. He had to fight the temptation to bite his lip in anticipation of Potter's reaction. He knew he was slightly more excited than he should be but shrugged the thought off. He kept still, waiting for the fire to enter the dark haired man's eyes. It didn't matter that they hadn't seen each other in years; nobody could piss Potter off like he could.

The fire never came to his eyes. Instead Potter's eyes brightened and a boyish smile slowly started to form on his lips.

"Do I know you?" His voice was half friendly and half hesitant, but completely honest. Potter wasn't messing with him. He really didn't recognize Draco.

Draco's jaw ached to drop open in scandalized disbelief, he was fuming. How could Potter forget him?! He was Draco Malfoy for Merlin's sake. No one forgets a Malfoy. Draco then took in the empty glasses littering the table.

Correction, no sober person forgets a Malfoy. After counting the empty shot glasses, Draco was shocked the boy was not passed out, let alone speaking coherent sentences without slurring his speech.

Ignoring Potter's question, he asked one of his own. "Where's the wifey at tonight, Potter?"

Draco realized it was the wrong thing to say almost immediately. All the openness and friendliness was instantly missing from the green-eyed wonder's face, and Draco honestly feared the man sitting opposite of him was going to burst into tears. Draco didn't want him to. The thought somewhat shocked him, but then again not that much. If Potter was going to cry, Draco preferred himself to be the cause. He was, after all, a selfish person. It didn't matter if it was his son, his parents, or even bloody Harry Potter, whoever was in his presence should have all of their attention focused on him.

"Okay! Potter, merlin relax, we don't have to talk about her. In fact I would prefer we didn't. Weasels and the like just leave a bad taste in my mouth," Draco sneered, waiting for Potter's passionate defense of his wife and her family. He quickly realized though, that Potter had stopped paying attention to him and from the look on his face hadn't heard a word Draco had said.

Turning and trying to find what Potter was staring at, he found himself staring into the face of a man, if Draco was being completely honest with himself a quite attractive man, around their age whose attention was focused solely on Harry.

Oh, you had to be kidding.

Draco felt the anger in him rising. Harry Potter had managed to wound his pride again. Not only was Potter ignoring him. He was ignoring him to ogle a guy. If Potter in his drunken state suddenly found his own gender oh-so attractive, then the ultimate specimen was right in front of him! How dare he snub Draco by ogling boringly average, maybe slightly above average, random guy across the bar? He, Draco Malfoy, the unofficial sex god of the wizarding world was right in front of him, gracing him with his presence!

Draco felt his cheeks tint slightly with embarrassment, maybe he was a little bit more than buzzed. That had made no sense, even in his own head. But still! Potter should have at least had the decency to at least give him a once over.

Draco turned in his chair again and waited until the very much unappreciated distraction met his eye, and then leveled him with his coldest glare. The man looked slightly startled for a moment, but then rolled his eyes in annoyance and turned his head elsewhere. Feeling overly triumphant, Draco turned back to Potter with a smirk on his face. Harry was about to down more shots. Draco moved his hand to intervene but merely found another shot glass in his hand.

"Drink with me," the simple request was followed with a smile so sweet; Malfoy couldn't bring himself to deny it.

Even if it was against his better judgment.

An hour later, Draco found himself in a distinctly compromising position. As he stared down at Harry, he couldn't quite remember why this might be a bad idea. He was in an expensive (muggle, although he would deny it until the day he died) hotel and had a deliciously squirming body under him. Still, his conscience nagged at him for a moment.

"We shouldn't be doing this Potter," Draco whispered against the raven haired man's lips. Harry couldn't be bothered to give a verbal reply back. He cupped a hand behind Draco's head to drag him into another kiss. It tasted like whiskey and spice.

Harry pulled away slightly licking Draco's lips as he did, "I don't care. I want to forget. Make me forget."

Draco looked into the deep green eyes of the man below him and felt a fire flare in his belly. He wanted this man. Draco dipped his head to nip at Harry's jawline slowly working his way down. He stopped at the green eyed wonder's collar bone to pay extra attention when Harry made a particularly delicious sound. Draco slowly licked his way lower letting his tongue barely dipped into Harry's belly button, before heading further south. As Draco began to undo the-Boy-Who-Lived's trousers, he glanced up at the man's face.

Draco felt his jaw drop. Harry Fucking Potter was sound asleep. The bastard. Draco was tempted to hex Potter's ass out of bed or maybe just shove him off the bed. Draco began to lift himself off of Potter, still contemplating his course of action when arms locked around his waist. He was yanked down quickly and found himself being snuggled into like a human-sized teddy bear. Potter was obviously part octopus.

Draco stared at the man lying beside him. He knew normally he would have still been furious. Who would dare fall asleep while Draco was pleasuring him? But, Draco just couldn't summon the anger. Merlin help him, he almost found it cute. He felt a warmth light in his chest. It was similar to what he felt around Scorpius. He liked it. He liked Potter's attention on him, his hands on him. He liked Potter. He snorted to himself, while pulling Harry closer to him. He liked Harry.

Draco wasn't going to let this go, he wasn't going to let this man go. And why should he? He was a Malfoy after all. They always got what they wanted…in the end at least.

Harry felt guilt gnawing at his belly as he finally made it home, it was nearly dawn. He had left a snoozing Malfoy behind at the hotel. He had just cheated on his wife.

Well, not full-blown cheated. There had been no sex-sex,he wasn't even sure that they'd had oral sex. Maybe it was only partially cheating…were there stages to cheating? Harry stopped to shake his head. Sex-sex. Good lord, what was he a teenager? Cheating is cheating, intent is everything. He was going to have sex. He'd had every intention of having sex. He cheated. Merlin, he was a horrible human being. He had to tell her. He couldn't keep something like this from Ginny.

He made his way to their bedroom and was shocked to find Ginny waiting for him. She was sitting on the bed with her arms crossed and a sour look on her face. He wondered somewhat idly if she was aware that the love bites on her upper thighs were clearly visible in the short nightie.

"Where were you," Ginny demanded her voice laced with angry accusation.

Harry opened his mouth to tell her everything, before pausing to think. He stared at her and contemplated all the nights he sat up waiting for her, contemplated how much he used to love her, contemplated when 'I love her' became 'I loved her', contemplated how much it hurt the first time Ginny came home with a love bite he didn't put on her, he contemplated how many secrets she kept from him. Contemplated how many lies she told him straight to his face.

Harry smiled, "Out with a friend."