Title: The Harry Potters
Pairing/Threesome: Harry/Draco
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: graphic sexual situations between consenting adults, counter!sex, rimming, semi-public sex, language, drug references, brief Harry/Zacharias Smith (VERY brief)
Word count: 6,000
Summary: The Harry Potters are playing Beltane Fest 2010. Draco's there to sign them to his record label. Harry's just there for the music.
Disclaimer: Characters are the property of JK Rowling, et al. This was created for fun, not for profit.
Author's Note: A huge THANK YOU to my betas, songquake and kristan1.
60 Days
"The Harry Potters are playing at Beltane Fest."
Harry's eye flicked up from the arse he'd been watching to look at Seamus. "What?" he asked, grabbing for his beer as if needing a hand-hold.
"Your band's playing at Beltane. Heard it from Nancy," he said, simply, before gulping down the rest of his pint and waving the barman over for another.
Harry stared down into his own, half-full beer. Nancy worked at Oslow's, the Wizarding bank in Dublin where Seamus worked. Harry knew that she had a cousin who was dating Alfred Tennton, the lead singer of the Harry Potters. Normally, this sort of chain of information would not have inspired confidence, but Seamus' friend had been right about two other surprise shows.
"How sure is she?" he asked after a moment of thought.
"Very. Her cousin made plans with her to meet there."
Well then, that was a definite yes. "I'll get tickets." Seamus nodded, grinning at the barman who was just setting a fresh pint in front of him. Harry bought the tickets the next day, too excited to wait even though the concert was two months away.
When Harry had first heard that there was a Wizarding band named after him, he had been both embarrassed and angry. How dare people use his name to sing songs about his life without even asking if he was all right with it? He had refused to listen to them, even when they opened for Merlin's Hairy Balls at the Palisade, and Harry had been waiting to see Merlin's Hairy Balls for months. But then one day, when he was flipping through stations on his wireless while getting dressed, he stumbled upon the best song he had ever heard. He sat, starkers, on his bed and listened until the song was over, transfixed by the genius combination of guitar and zylethon bass with the twisting cadence of the singer's voice. He barely heard the words, and it was only later that he realized the song was about his break-up with Ginny; at the time he could do nothing but listen.
When the DJ announced that the song was the latest single from The Harry Potters, Harry had been floored. He hadn't known the band was good. He'd gone out and bought their album that day, then sat, listening, on the floor of his living room, transfixed by the music for over an hour. Since then, he'd been hooked.
And now he was going to see them live at Beltane! The official line-up hadn't been posted yet, but he'd heard rumors that the Howlers, the Tartan Curse, Grindelow's Grindhouse, the Gargoyle Rebellion, and Blonds Make Better Potions were all going to be there. The festival was two months away, but Harry could already feel the excitement building. He loved concerts: the push of the crowd, the smell of smoke that hung in a cloud above their heads, the buzz of the music moving through his veins, getting lost in the sounds. It was always good, even if the band was rubbish, and even that one time when a really fit bloke retched all over his brand new Converse trainers and his cleaning charms had not kept them from smelling rancid for months. The blokes he pulled afterwards in loo stalls and back alleys were nice, too. And there should be plenty of that at a concert this big. Only two more months!
30 Days
Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy did not understand their son. Draco knew this, had known for years, but it was just beginning to be a major problem. They were both of the opinion that, at thirty-one, it was time for him to settle down with a nice Pureblood girl and make little Malfoys. He knew their opinion because they insisted on bringing their Plan up at every opportunity. Unfortunately for Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, their son had no interest in settling down or making little Malfoys. And even if he had wanted to do any such thing, he most certainly would not be doing it with a woman of any pedigree.
Draco had a Plan of his own. He was using his trust fund gold to start his own record label. He had always loved music and had wanted to work in music, but it had only been recently that the idea of his own record company began to make sense. Previously, the only music that was actually recorded onto magical records was the sort always played on the WWN, mostly Celestina Warbeck and the like, that older mums liked to listen to. Home phonographs were rare and very expensive, and personal music players did not exist. The types of bands that Draco liked to listen to, anything fast and loud, just were not being recorded, and even if they had been, they would never have made it on the WWN, and most certainly wouldn't have been bought by the types of people who could afford their own phonograph.
But recently all that had begun to change, and Draco wanted to be on the forefront of that change. A wonderful Muggleborn wizard named Thomas Crowley had invented a device that could absorb the sound waves from records, and then play them back at the flick of a wand. This invention was closely followed by that of the Sound Bubble Charm, a charm that worked like the muffliato charm, in that a wizard could play his personal sound absorber (PSA for short) in a public place and the charm would act as a shield around the wizard, holding the music in a bubble around his head. The wizard standing next to him wouldn't be able to hear a note of the music, unless of course that wizard was in snogging distance of the first wizard. Needless to say, it provided brilliant and fantastic new ways for Draco to pull men. And he loved it.
All of it was brilliant and had Draco so hungry for music that he practically breathed guitar riffs. Unfortunately, since most of the music he liked to listen to was limited to live performances, he had quickly become frustrated with the limited selections available for absorption. His frustration led him to his Plan, and he had been working furiously at it ever since.
He had started by building a recording studio, using all the latest technology and the best technicians galleons could buy. Dark Arts, Limited was going to sign all the best bands, the ones who played back-room shows all over London and Manchester, but never made it on the WWN because they were 'too alternative' and the older crowd couldn't stand them. He was making it a personal goal to make sure that not only did their records get made, but that they made it onto the WWN, finally. They were going to dominate the WWN when Draco was finished with them. And it was all going to start at Beltane Fest 2010.
3 Days
"Sir, I understand your concerns, but I can assure you that I am not interested in performing any terrorist acts before, during, or after the festivities. I am only looking to promote my record label and to take on new musicians. You wouldn't want to block these fine young musicians from reaching their full potentials, would you?" Draco smiled his most persuasive smile at the man in charge of security for Beltane Fest. He had known coming into this situation that he would be met with resistance. He was only just rebuilding his reputation, and the only weapon he had to fight the prejudice of his Dark Mark was Potter's sincere testimony at his trial. And even that hadn't been particularly winning.
"How do I know that's what you want to do? All you've given me is some paperwork. I've never heard of this Dark Arts, Limited. How do I know you aren't lying to me? Name's a bit dodgy, don't you think?"
Draco kept the smile on his face, even though it was a fight. "The name is meant to be ironic, sir. You haven't heard of my company before because I've only just finished construction on the studio. I intend to use the wonderful opportunity that Beltane Fest provides to begin signing bands. I can't do that if you won't let me backstage."
"And I'm not going to let a criminal backstage to do mischief to the talent. Prove to me that you aren't going to."
Draco looked the man up and down, calculating what it was going to take to make this man acquiesce. "What can I do to inspire your confidence?"
The man glared at him and crossed his arms over his chest, making his already imposing figure that much more so, "You could suck my cock."
Draco sensed that the man was being sarcastic, but he was determined enough to try anyway. "All right, if that's what it takes." He motioned towards the man's trousers and moved to kneel down. The man's eyes went as large as saucers.
"You've got to be joking! I didn't mean it, you poof!" His voice was incredulous, but his eyes said he'd take it if Draco was offering. So to his knees Draco dropped, and a short five minutes later, he had his backstage pass.
20 Minutes
"Fuck it, Finnegan! Are you coming or not?" Harry shouted through the bathroom door. Seamus had been taking his sweet time in the shower, and Harry was about to leave him. "The show starts in twenty minutes, and I don't want to be late."
"Patience, Harry. It takes a lot of effort to look as good as this, you know," Seamus responded, finally emerging fully dressed and ready. Harry rolled his eyes and pulled a face. "Well, I guess you wouldn't, not with that face."
"Very funny. I was about to leave your pretty arse," Harry snapped back.
Seamus gave him a cocky grin. "Shall we, then?"
"You remember the coordinates or do you need my arm?" Harry held his arm out, knowing that even if Seamus remembered, he'd never be able to get there without help. Harry loved Seamus like a brother, but he was shit at directions. Seamus gave him a two-fingered salute, but grabbed onto his arm anyway, and off they went.
They arrived a few moments later in the heart of Hope Woodlands, east of Manchester and well out of the way of any Muggles. Which was a good thing, since they landed smack in the middle of a sea of wizards, mostly dressed in vague approximations of Muggle clothing, and clearly staggering towards drunk already. Harry grinned and tugged Seamus into the throng. The noise was already a force unto itself, and the press of bodies had his blood pumping faster. God, he loved this!
"Harry!" a voice called from a distance away. Harry turned and spied a blond head bobbing closer and groaned.
"Save me," he muttered to Seamus, who grinned mischievously.
"Don't want to see your boyfriend?"
"He isn't—" But Harry was cut off before he could finish his protest by an armful of Zacharias Smith, who had barreled into him and taken possession of his mouth. Harry tried to extricate himself with little success. The kiss was wet, and Zach was tugging too hard on his hair and biting his bottom lip, and Harry just wasn't into that sort of thing. Well, he was, just not when Zacharias Smith was doing it.
"Hey, Zach," Harry muttered, trying to pull further away. He had really been hoping to avoid Zach ever since his misguided venture into the other man's bed, which had been awful and was not going to be repeated, thank you.
"You are an incredibly difficult man to find. I've stopped by the shop three times in the last three weeks looking for you, but you were always out. I was thinking we could get together and…" He attempted a leer, but it was more of a grimace and Harry wasn't moved.
"I've been busy, sorry. You know Seamus, right?" He turned to point Seamus out, only to find him flirting with some silly pink-haired girl, ten feet away from them. Abandoned by his mate: not good. "Looks like Seamus's a bit busy, sorry. You know, I should probably go and get us something to drink. We've only just arrived and I know Seamus won't like being stone cold sober for much longer." He tried to walk away, but Zach wasn't having it, and hurried after him.
Harry tried to put as much distance between them as possible, so that people wouldn't think they were together, but he failed. When he finally reached a bar, Zach was right at his back. "Are you avoiding me? I don't like being avoided, Potter. It makes me unhappy." He pressed himself flush against Harry's back and gripped his side rather harder than Harry liked.
Harry was about to protest when he caught sight of the fittest bum he'd ever laid eyes on and was struck momentarily dumb. It was moving away from him, muscles clenching beneath a snug pair of jeans, and Harry only had a second to spy a white-blond head attached to the body the bum belonged to before it—and the gorgeous bum—disappeared into the crowd. He turned and growled at Zach. "Look, you're okay and all, but we've only had one night, and it's going to stay that way, so leave me alone. I'm not interested anymore."
Zacharias looked both stunned and furious at Harry's announcement, and reached out to pull Harry close again, but Harry stepped out of his reach. He hurried back into the throng in the direction of that fantastic bum. Zach could fuck off for all he cared. He wasn't going to be man-handled by a twat like him. He caught another glimpse of the white-blond hair and began to follow it through the crowd. Suddenly, he heard a chord struck from the direction of the stage; the crowd surged forward, blocking off Harry's path. A frustrated growl left his lips, but he quickly relaxed when he realized that the music was about to begin. He made his way to the bar and got two pints, then set a tiny golden light to lead him in Seamus' direction. He would find the blond later; right now there was music to lose himself in.
minus 2 hours
Draco was incredibly pleased with himself. He had already managed to sign three bands, including his favorite, The Harry Potters, which had taken quite a bit of underhanded tactics as they were one of the few bands already signed to one of his rivals. And now he was about to see them live, not five feet from the stage at one of the largest music festivals he'd ever been to. The music was thrumming in his blood and making him want to move. He had a pint in one hand and three blokes vying for his attention. This was a glorious evening.
Tennton came on stage to a mass of enthusiastic cheers from the crowd. At the same moment, a fourth bloke came up from behind and tucked his hands in the front pockets of Draco's jeans, pulling him into the strong body behind him. "You have the fittest arse I've ever seen."
"Is that so?" Draco asked, trying to turn around but being held fast by the hands in his pockets. He turned his head enough to see his captor's face and was shocked to be assaulted with the smiling face of Harry Potter. "Potter?"
"Malfoy?" The arms around him froze for a moment before relaxing once more. "Wow, never would have thought this would happen."
Draco stiffened himself and glared. "Wishing you'd kept your hands to yourself now, are you?" he growled, turning as far as he could. Potter still held him by the front pockets.
Harry snorted. "Doesn't make your arse any less fuck-able." Draco continued to glare, causing Harry to roll his eyes. "Look, I don't know about you, but I've had quite a few beers and a couple of hits off some really nice Gillyweed. I don't really wanna fight, if you don't mind." He nudged Draco back around. "Relax. Drink your beer. Enjoy the music. They're about to start." He finished speaking just as the first chords of Draco's favorite song began to drown out the noise of the crowd around them. Draco was tense for a lingering minute, but then he glanced back at Potter, grinning and swaying to the music, and looking just as enthusiastic as Draco felt. He let the tension go, deciding to leave it for later and enjoy what was happening in front of him. He grinned, too, and began to dance. He could feel Potter's body pressed close to his, dancing as well, and Potter's voice was in his ear, singing along.
minus 3:30 hours
Draco was so exhilarated from the thrill of the show that he momentarily lost his sense. Or at least that's what he would tell himself later; at the moment he was too excited to care that he'd grabbed Potter's hand and was dragging him towards the backstage area. He flashed his pass and made a gesture towards Potter's famous face, and the security team let them through. Up a flight of stairs and they were in the bustling back stage area, surrounded by technicians and drunk groupies and sweaty musicians. He flashed a grin at the bassist for the Tartan Curse (he'd signed them before the festival even started), and tugged Potter towards the dressing room that housed the Harry Potters.
He knocked on the door and was let in by the drummer, dripping sweat and grinning from ear-to-ear. "Draco! Hey, come on in!" He caught sight of Potter behind Draco and stared, clearly speechless. Draco glanced back at Potter, whose grin matched his own, and tugged him in past Marcus.
"Marcus, this is Harry Potter. Potter, this is Marcus Vein—"
"Drummer, yeah, I know. You guys were fucking fantastic!" Potter exclaimed.
The other members of the group had perked up from their positions draped across various pieces of furniture. They looked at Harry as though he were a specimen in a jar, or as though they couldn't believe that he was real. "Are you really Harry Potter?" Tennton asked hesitantly. It suddenly occurred to Draco that, even though Potter was clearly a fan of their music, as he knew the words to every one of their songs, they had probably never met each other before. Draco himself had only just met them for the first time in person earlier that day, though he had been corresponding with them through owl post for weeks now.
"Are you really the Harry Potters?" Potter asked back, still grinning. He didn't look fazed, but of course Potter wouldn't. There was an awkward pause, but then the room erupted in a flurry of voices and movement as all the members hurried to shake Potter's hand and introduce themselves and ask him more questions than Draco could keep track of. Potter looked thrilled to be speaking with them, and they easily gravitated into positions on a bare sofa, chatting rapidly about this song or that story. Draco managed to tear their publicist away from the group to talk business, but he kept one eye on Potter as he spoke. He was beginning to really like what he saw.
minus 5 hours
Harry was fairly twitching from the heady mix of adrenaline and alcohol running through him. He was certain this night was going to go down in history as one of his favorites. Not only had he seen his favorite band play an amazing show, he'd been pulled backstage and actually got to meet them, and talk to them about their music and his life and how the two intertwined. He'd had a lovely time talking to all of them and their entourage and drinking their alcohol. But now all he wanted to do was have his wicked way with the gorgeous blond who had made it all possible.
Draco was leaning against the wall, drink in hand, talking to possibly the stiffest and most uninteresting man Harry could have ever imagined being at a music festival. Harry smiled politely at the man as he took Draco's drink from him and set it on the counter behind him, before dragging him out into the hall and away from the stuffy room.
"What are you—?" Draco began to ask, but Harry was too impatient to listen. He pressed Draco into the wall and kissed him hard, dragging his teeth against the blond's bottom lip and eliciting a moan from the other man. Further protests were forgotten as Draco's arms wrapped around Harry's neck, and his fingers buried themselves in Harry's thick hair. Their tongues fought for dominance, thrusting into each other's mouths and sparring against one another. Harry's hands traveled under Draco's shirt and began mapping out the ridges of his spine. Draco moaned and thrust his hips forward, rubbing his erection against Harry's.
They were starting to pant between kisses, the heat between them nearly unbearable. Harry wanted to rip all of Draco's clothes off and lick him from the tip of his nose to the bottoms of his feet, but he didn't want to stop kissing his mouth long enough to do it.
They were suddenly reminded that they were in the middle of a hallway backstage at the biggest concert of the year when a loud group of drunken girls came running past them, screeching at the tops of their lungs. Harry pulled away to glare after them, hands still hot on Draco's back. Draco tugged at his hair to get his attention and motioned down the hallway. "Let's find somewhere more private. Don't want to end up in the Prophet, do we?"
"Probably not." Harry grinned back at him before leaning over to suck Draco's bottom lip into his mouth, unable to help himself. Draco shivered in pleasure before pulling away and dragging Harry down the hallway by the hand. He knocked on several doors before he was able to find an empty room they could use.
Once inside, Harry manhandled Draco onto the dressing table and began kissing him again, pulling his hips to the very edge of the table to rub against his own. Their kisses deepened, intensified. Harry's hands wandered back beneath Draco's shirt and below the waistband of his jeans, only to discover that the blond wasn't wearing any pants. He growled and bit hard on Draco's bottom lip, almost to the point of drawing blood. He was unbelievably turned on at this new knowledge, and became determined to get the jeans off.
Draco must have had the same idea because his hands were already pulling at the button of Harry's own jeans. He pulled the zipper down and pushed them down far enough to cup the cheeks of Harry's arse, pulling him closer. He bit Harry's lip back, his teeth scraping against the back side of his lip and sending a sizzle of pain down Harry's spine. Harry's hips snapped into Draco's and his hands traveled around to the front of the jeans, only to be stopped by Draco's own hands. "Wait, we didn't lock the door," he rasped out, giving Harry a meaningful look.
Harry grumbled for a moment, arousal fading for the minute it took him to find his wand in the pocket of his sagging jeans. He flung locking and silencing charms at the door and did a quick protection spell before setting it down at Draco's hip and giving him a look of his own. "Can I get your fucking trousers off now?"
Draco grinned and pulled him close for another kiss, hand moving to his erection and giving a firm tug on it. Harry moaned and practically tore the offending jeans off of Draco, nearly pulling him off the counter in his haste to remove them. Draco laughed through their kiss at his enthusiasm and kicked to help him get them off. Harry wasted no time once the jeans were a pile on the floor, kneeling on top of them and lifting Draco's shirt to lick a long strip down his stomach. He licked and kissed the bare skin at the base of Draco's shaft before moving up to suck just the head into his mouth. Draco moaned and leaned back against the counter, one hand behind him for support while the other tangled in thick, black hair.
Harry continued to tease him, licking at and suckling the head, until fingernails scraped against his scalp and the blond snapped, "Just fucking suck it, won't you?" Draco didn't even finish the sentence before Harry had swallowed him whole. "Fuck!"
Harry answered him with a loud slurping noise as he sucked all the way back up before bobbing down again. He loved the noises that accompanied a blow job, almost as much as the blow job itself. He began to slurp loudly, sucking hard on the cock in front of him.
When his jaw began to ache, he decided it was time to move things along. He gave one loud, last suck before letting the cock go with a pop and licking his way along Draco's thigh. He pushed Draco's legs higher up and wider apart and began to lick his way down, past his perineum, to the puckered entrance he was so looking forward to fucking. He flattened his tongue over the wrinkled skin and felt a ripple go through Draco, who was holding one knee up while he steadied himself with his other hand. Harry grinned to himself and began to prod the hole with the stiffened tip of his tongue, slowing coaxing it open until he could easily thrust his tongue in and out. Draco made a small noise and moved his hips against the motion, his eyes shut tight. Harry watched his face scrunch up with every flick, enjoying the other man's undoing.
He replaced his tongue with a charm-slickened finger, and then two, but by the time he was ready for three, Draco had had enough of the teasing. "Would you just bloody fuck me, already?" he snapped, glaring down at Harry still crouched on the floor.
Harry chuckled and stood. "If you insist." A second lube charm and he was leaning over Draco, one hand resting behind him on the counter, the other guiding himself in. Draco's eyes were riveted to Harry's hips, watching them slowly thrust towards him. When Harry was all the way in, the gray eyes traveled up to his, and he took the opportunity to kiss him. A kiss that was meant to be light and carefree quickly turned hard and violent under the combined forces of their need. Harry had intended to start slow to accommodate the tightness around him, but the ferocity with which Draco kissed him had his hips snapping at a bruising pace. Draco groaned into his mouth and nearly bit clean-through his lip. Nails were embedded in the nape of Harry's neck. He could feel the blood mingling with the sweat and soaking the back of his t-shirt.
"Fuck," Harry muttered as he pulled away to get a better grip on Draco's hips. He was nearly blind with pleasure and was struggling to keep himself from coming too early. Draco gave him a vicious grin and pulled him back down, beginning to bite at his neck. Harry's knees began to tremble and the hand holding him up slipped from his own sweat. He knew he wasn't going to be able to stay up-right much longer. He glanced behind them to the black leather sofa and made a decision. He pulled Draco closer and got a good grip on his arse cheeks. "Hold on," he muttered into sweaty blond hair. Draco's arms wrapped tight around his neck and his knees squeezed into Harry's hips. Harry hefted him up and walked backwards until they both collapsed onto the sofa, Draco straddling him.
Draco snorted down at him and raised a patronizing eyebrow. "Pathetic weakling," he murmured, just before leaning over to kiss him again. Harry dug his fingers into Draco's hips in retaliation and began to thrust up into him, harder than he had before, slouching down so that his arse was nearly off the sofa to make the motion easier. Draco groaned and began to rock down to meet him. They fell into a hard and fast rhythm, kissing and biting at each other's skin.
Harry was just about to come, in what he was sure was about to be one of the most explosive orgasms of his life, when the door handle began to jiggle. He wouldn't have noticed, except that the locking ward he'd put in place was designed to send a pinch to him when someone tried to breech it. He felt the pinch then, and whipped his head around to see the handle jiggling violently. He cursed. "What?" Draco asked, disliking that Harry wasn't paying complete attention to him. Their movements had stopped, and with it the slapping noises they had made. In the panting quiet, Draco could hear the handle. His eyes grew to saucers and he clenched onto Harry's arm. "What are we going to do?"
Harry stared at the door for another second, then looked at Draco. "Get up. I'll meet you in the loo." He shoved Draco away and scrambled to collect their discarded clothing. Draco was already at the door to the loo, waiting impatiently for him, sweaty and naked from the waist-down. Harry's breath caught and he hurried Draco into the room and shut and warded the door, releasing the ward on the outside door at the same time.
"Merlin, I thought this was an empty room." Draco whispered, leaning against the closed door. They listened to the noise of people cursing and speculating at what had jammed the door, but it was soon clear that they were too high to focus on the obstruction for long. Draco recognized one of the voices as the manager for Merlin's Hairy Balls. Harry froze beside him, obviously recognizing the distinctive Welsh accent as well. They exchanged a look. "Should we Apparate out?"
"Can't. Wards in place to discourage drunks from splinching themselves. We're stuck here until they clear out or we're caught."
Draco stared incredulously at him. "You cannot be serious. I am not being discovered shagging in a backstage dressing room loo. I'm trying to rebuild my reputation, here."
Harry rolled his eyes. "Draco, this is Wizard Rock. Getting caught shagging in a loo can do nothing but help your reputation. And since there's nothing we can do right now, can we continue where we left off? If I don't come soon, I'll go blind." He'd been staring at Draco's red-blotched, sweaty face as he spoke, and it was doing nothing to quell his hard-on.
Draco scoffed at Harry's one-track mind when they were clearly in a jam, but didn't object to being herded to the sink and unceremoniously bent over it. He gripped the sides with white-knuckled hands as his legs were nudged open and Harry pushed back in. They both groaned at the contact and fell right back into their rhythm, momentarily forgetting about their predicament. Harry sucked on the junction of neck and shoulder, leaving sloppy wet trails as his mouth traveled all over Draco's neck and shoulder. At this angle, his thrusts were shallower, but better-aimed at Draco's prostate, and had Draco calling out louder than he had before.
It didn't take long, not with how close they had both already been. Harry came first, shaking and nearly falling over and calling out Draco's name. Draco rode it out, waiting until Harry was a mess of endorphins, before pushing him away and forcing him onto his knees, where Harry got the fucking hint and proceeded to suck Draco's orgasm from him.
They were still afterwards; Harry on his knees with his cheek pressed to Draco's thigh, watching his erection slowly flag an inch from his nose, Draco using his grip on the sink as his only way of staying upright. The noises from outside were chaotic, music blaring from someone's Sonorused-PSA and loud voices shouting to one another. Harry took a deep breath and stood, his balance still a little off, and began to pull his pants back on. Draco watched him with glassy, unfocused eyes. He knew he should be dressing as well, but his brain was still not functioning the way it should. In his mind, a scrolling banner read in flashing letters: You've just been fucked by Potter. You've just been fucked by Potter. Over and over again it scrolled through his mind, making it hard for him to think. He shook off the repeating thought and reached for his trousers. By now, Harry was leaning down to tie the laces on his trainers. And he was talking. When had he started talking?
"—all probably too drunk to even notice. And if they do, who cares? Who's going to believe a bunch of pissed musicians?" He stood and looked at Draco as though he were expecting Draco to answer.
"Sorry? Wasn't listening there for a moment."
Harry rolled his eyes and began to smooth his hair down. "I was saying that we should just walk out of here. They're all too pissed to notice two people leaving the loo who didn't walk in with them. And if they do, no one important is going to believe the story. Especially if we deny it. And besides, we're bound to be discovered in here by the end of the night anyway, yeah? With all that alcohol, someone's bound to need a piss soon."
Draco blinked at him, stalled in buttoning his jeans. "You want us to just walk out together?"
"Yeah. Why not?"
"I…" Instinct told him that was a monumentally bad idea, but his brain could come up with no clear argument against it, so he nodded and finished dressing.
Harry gave him one more once-over, to make sure he was certain he wanted to walk into the crowd on the other side of the door, before undoing his locking charms and stepping out. Draco followed closely behind. There was only a brief pause from the group packed into the tiny dressing room. No one said anything. A few of the band members were already making out with groupies. Two were smoking Gillyweed in the corner. Harry weaved through the crowd, trying to act cool. This was one of his favorite bands, and he desperately wanted to talk to them, but he knew that Draco would be very angry if he drew attention to their presence. They escaped out the door and into the narrow hallway, busy with roadies and band members and promoters. Harry tugged Draco into a quiet alcove and pulled him close.
"Told you no one would care." He smirked. Draco glared back. He was certain the drummer had taken note of them. He was distracted by a kiss. "Shall we go back out into the fray or do you want to go back to mine?"
Draco stared into his green, green eyes, knowing that this had been a mistake and that if he went home with Potter, it would only end in disaster. Somehow, he didn't care.
"Yours," he said, and kissed him again.