Chapter 1

A one night stand.

Harry mumbled under his breath as he walked through the snow-covered streets of New York City. He had been banned from yet another bar. He had tried going to magical ones, but after several instances where he was recognized, he gave up on them and started going to the muggle ones. The only problem was, he couldn't get drunk. Or rather he could, it just took a lot more than it would for the average muggle. It was a sad thing, his own magic burned off the alcohol too quickly. So it took a lot to get him even buzzed. Unfortunately, the bartenders didn't know that fact and kept kicking him out. Probably didn't want to risk him falling over dead from alcohol poisoning. Even still, it was mildly inconvenient. There was still plenty of clubs he could go to. But they tended to be far louder than he typically cared for.

There were a few 'high class' clubs that he could still get into, but they rarely had anything strong on hand, and attempting to get pissed around a bunch of self-important upper crust snobs was a little… awkward. Thankfully, all hope of killing his sobriety was not lost. There was still Mauds' place.

That was the name of the bar. The guy who owned it named it after his mother. He was an old war veteran, but more importantly than that, he was a squib. He had alcohol from both worlds, not that anyone ever got something they shouldn't. He was very careful about that. Muggles who drank things like fire whiskey tended to end up in hospitals. Gilly water and other weak drinks would usually be fine. Just nothing too strong.

Harry walked into the bar and smiled. There was a couple of old timers sitting at a table in the corner sharing a beer and a few old war stories. Mitch, the owner, was behind the counter wiping off some shelves. At the far end of the bar was one of the most muscular men Harry had ever seen, in person anyway.

"Ah Harry, let me guess, you out drank another bartender am I right?"

"You got me, Mitch."

"Usual?"

"Make it a double would ya?"

Mitch gave him a look. "That good huh?"

Harry let out a sigh, he had some good days and some bad days. This just happened to be one of the ladders.

"Seems it's one-a-those nights," Mitch observed handing Harry his drink. "Old Andrew just found out his Grandson died overseas," he explained jerking a thumb towards the two old timers.

Harry winced. "buy their next round on me kay."

"Sure," Mitch said making a note next to his register. "Then you got Steve over there."

Harry looked at the man again seeing that he was just staring unblinkingly at his half-full bottle of beer. "Poor guy woke up from a coma, no family left and can't find any of his friends. With the way, he's been drinking he might be able to take your title."

"Fat chance," Harry snorted into his drink. "Do you think he'd mind some company?"

"Won't know unless you try right?" Harry only nodded before downing the rest of his drink and heading down the bar to sit next to the attractive blonde.

"Hi there," Harry said with a tiny wave.

"Um, hello…" Steve responded somewhat slowly, clearly not expecting a stranger to approach him.

"Mind if I sit here?"

"Oh, no, I mean yes, I mean… uh, just go ahead."

Harry chuckled a bit as he took the seat.

"So, this your first time in here?"

"What?"

"The bar? Have you ever been here before?"

"O-Oh, not really. I came in here briefly last week. But it was a little crowded."

"Really?" Harry asked surprised. Must have been an event for one of Mitch's regulars.

"Bernie was told he was in remission," Mitch said coming over and putting a fresh drink in front of the raven-haired man.

That would explain it. Bernie was one of those old timers that loved to tell you the same story a million times. But every time it was a little different. Poor sod had been diagnosed with lung cancer a few years back. Harry was happy to hear he was doing well.

As the night went on, Harry began buying Steve his drinks and Vice versa. At some point, Steve started taking swigs from Harry's glass. Of course, no one noticed this until they were both thoroughly trashed.

Harry led Steve out of the bar, both of them relying on each other to stay up.

"St-SSSteve...You're drunk." Harry said with a stupid loopy grin.

"Looook whoth talkn'..." Steve slurred back.

They both dissolved into giggles from there.

"Come on handthome, I have a, a, whath that word again?"

"Box?"

"Pshhh, no why would I have a box….room, thas wha I got. I gots a room nearby we can crash in."

Harry and Steve stumbled their way to the Hotel that Harry had a room in and made their way up stairs. It took the two of them five minutes to fumble the keycard into the door.

"Here we gooo." Harry said as they stepped inside. Steve went over and fell face first on the bed.

"Hey, thath my bed." Harry said stupidly trying to pull the muscular man off by his foot. Of course, he wasn't even remotely successful. Steve stood up suddenly and looked at Harry for a moment. Then, before Harry could say anything, he picked him up and tossed him on the bed. Harry was surprised for a second but quickly came to his senses when Steve had successfully straddled his hips and was looking at him with lust filled eyes.

"Tell me to stop," Steve asked almost pleading, he was surprisingly coherent for a moment, as he leaned in closer to Harry's face.

Harry reached up and wrapped his arms around Steve's beefy neck and met the man's lips halfway muttering a single word as he did so.

"Never."

-oOlllOo-

Harry awoke the next morning with a pounding headache. It didn't take him long to notice he wasn't in his own house. He must have ended up staying in the hotel after drinking. It wouldn't have been the first time. Getting up, He padded his way into the bathroom and splashed some water on his face to help clear his head. As the cold water trickled down his torso, he finally took note of his Nakedness.

Huh, I usually just crash when I'm drunk. The only times I've woken up Naked were when-

He cut that thought off as the realization hit him hard. He rushed back out and looked at the bed to see the sleeping form of Steve.

Oh, fuck me in the Alpes! He mentally screamed. Taking a deep breath he made his way over to the bed and gently lifted the sheets.

Please be wearing clothes, Please be wearing clothes, Please be wearing clothes, Steve was Naked, FUCK!

Harry took a deep breath and got dressed. He was just about to apparate out of there when guilt stopped him. Steve was a nice guy, he didn't want to just disappear without an explanation. If he were being completely honest, he wanted to get back in the bed and cuddle. But he knew that nothing could come of this. Steve was a Muggle. And Harry loved magic too much to give it up. Biting his lip, he made his way over to the desk and pulled over the complimentary stationery and wrote a quick note. Once that was done, he apparated out of the room and directly into his house in Staten Island.

-oOlllOo-

Steve awoke to what he first thought was gunfire, but soon attributed to his mind playing tricks on him. When he realized he was in the hotel room Harry had brought him to the night before. He couldn't help the goofy grin that spread over his face as he thought of all that had happened between them. Never had Steve connected with someone on so many levels. And certainly not so quickly. He and Harry just seemed to understand each other in some strange way. Looking over at the other side of the bed he noticed that Harry was gone.

Maybe he's in the bathroom? No, I can't hear the water. Did he leave? His clothes are gone too.

All these questions and others went through his mind as he examined the room. It didn't take him long to stumble upon the note.

Dear Steve,

Last night was the most magical night I've ever had. And trust me, you will never know just how amazing that is. And I'm sorry that I'm not there with you now, I'm sorry that I left you with nothing but this stupid note, but I know we can't be together.

Please don't think me one of those people who sleep with others just to add another notch in their belt. I'm not. You are an amazing man, and if I weren't such a sack of Shite I would stay, but I can't.

I'm so sorry, but we are from different worlds. And, quite frankly, I am toxic. I refuse to drag you into the horror story that has become my life. It would be better if you just forgot about me and moved on.

With all the love I can give, Harry-

Steve wasn't sure how he was supposed to react. He was hurt, and he was confused, but most surprisingly, he was angry. Who was Harry to decide that on his own? Forget about him? How? Harry had been his first in so many things. They had connected in a way he didn't think he ever could with someone. Forget him? Not going to happen. And what was that nonsense about two different worlds, and his putting himself down. Did he think Steve was just going to let that slide? No, what he was going to do was find Harry and get a real explanation.

But it was at that moment that Steve realized, he didn't really know anything about Harry. He knew he was English, knew he lived on the east coast, and that he was in his twenties. But beyond that, nothing of any real substance. Nothing that would help him find him anyway. Scowling he walked over to his pants and pulled out his wallet. Inside was a piece of paper with a single phone number. They had given him a Cell phone, but he wasn't used to carrying one and so forgot it quite frequently.

He dialed it into the room phone and after a moment the call went through.

"Hello, you've reached the SHIELD direct line. How may I-"

"This is Captain Steve Rogers, I need to talk to Director Furry."