AN: I know, I always make you guys wait forever, but at least I do update, right? ….right? ….here, have cookies with this chapter^^; btw, thanks for everyone who reviewed, it really keeps me going! Love you guys!
Chapter Seven
Draco uncorked the bottle the second the floo turned green. He took a swig of the wine before pouring it into a glass and then another from the bottle just for extra measure.
Normally he didn't drink to get drunk but if he had to think for one more moment he was pretty sure he would jump right out of the tenth story window and not really care until he was hitting the ground.
"I'm a grown man, how can you give me ultimatums?" He kicked at the empty fireplace and downed the glass.
He had been a good boy. Not only had he put up with his mother's ridiculous dinner invitation, he had even listened to her absurd speculations on his life without so much as raising his voice but today…
He poured another glass and brought it to his lips trying to erase from his memory the way she'd marched into his apartment, and imposed her views on all of the semi-stable things in his life. His home, his job, his lifestyle, nothing was to her satisfaction and she didn't plan to let him continue living this way it would seem.
Draco swallowed and looked at the clock. It was still early but he had to get out of here. He wanted his mind off of things whether it be with drinking, dancing, a muggle boy, hell he didn't even care if it was that bloke from the prophet that Draco had gone out with.
He stumbled into a joint about a half hour later. He couldn't remember the name but the music was okay. It had a beat which was all that mattered.
Draco ordered a drink and drank it on the dance floor, swaying his hips to the beat. The lights began to daze him and he shut his eyes as a moment later someone's hands rested on him from the back, urging him against a hard body.
He sighed and leaned against it. If he didn't look he could pretend it was anyone. He could pretend it was Harry.
If he had been sober he probably would have reprimanded himself for that, but not now, not when he was being honest with himself.
He liked Harry. Liked that way that he gestured when he spoke and avoided eye contact when something made him uncomfortable, the way he bit those damn lips.
He smiled a little thinking about it and found himself biting his own lips, wondering if that was how it felt for Harry.
The man behind him gripped his hips hard, pulling Draco's ass tight against him. He could feel the hot breaths in his ear and moaned softly despite himself.
Harry was probably at home right now, moping about something. About Ron most likely. Draco tried not to let that annoy him. He turned his face to the man against him and his lips met Draco's eagerly. When they pulled apart Draco belatedly realized that he had been trying to avoid looking at the guy. He was far too different. His hair was too light, his eyes too dark, his muscular build should have been a giveaway against Draco's back but really it was the face that bothered him.
For a moment Draco had genuinely been expecting to see Harry's face.
"What's wrong?" he asked.
Draco didn't know how to answer that.
Harry waited anxiously, half hiding behind a lamp post, waiting to see if Ron would respond to the equivalent of a schoolyard note that Harry had sent him.
After about twenty minutes leaning against the cold steel Harry figured he probably should have written a little more than 'Ron, meet me out front. Don't tell Hermione.'
His stomach twisted as he accepted the fact that Ron didn't want anything to do with him anymore. He thought back to fourth year, their only other big fight. Making up with his friend had made all of the other horrors he had yet to face seem easy to conquer… and Hermione…. Harry really didn't know how to live without the two of them.
He turned and apparated away from their home, the thought ringing in his ears. He would try again tomorrow. If he apologized then they would have to forgive him.
It was sort of funny. Harry had always known that he was a bit of a recluse. He liked his privacy and he never had many friends. He had a routine and a set of people allowed into that routine and now that he had lost three of those people it was glaringly obvious how sheltered he kept himself.
It was a Thursday night. Going out crossed his mind but he didn't want to go anywhere alone. He never had before, not even to pick up because, well, he'd been with Ginny since before school ended. Also, right now he wasn't sure who he would end up coming home with and that confused the hell out of him.
An image of Malfoy leaned over the office desk shot into Harry's mind and his pants suddenly felt a little tight.
He shut his eyes and took a deep breath. Wanking to the thought of a guy. He didn't think he was at that stage yet.
He sank into the couch but didn't turn the TV on.
Somehow he felt like a liar. He had told Malfoy that he was straight and then minutes later decided quite firmly that he wasn't.
In fact he was so not straight that thinking of Malfoy was giving him a hard on. He dropped a hand over his crotch but didn't do anything. It would be wrong to jerk off and think about his doctor… although Malfoy had told him to try to figure it out.
'Look at men and see if you're attracted to them,' that was pretty much an invitation actually.
Harry undid the top button of his jeans and slid his hand into them. He shut his eyes, enjoying the pressure. He bet it would feel good with a guy. Blow jobs and hand jobs would at least still feel the same. And sex. Being on top would feel good. He knew it would. He imagined squeezing into a tight ass and squeezed himself with a shudder.
Why hadn't he thought about it before?
He unzipped his pants for more room and a loud rushing sound filled his ears.
The Floo.
Harry jolted upright and spun in his seat to look at the fire place behind him as the green smoke dissipated. His mouth went dry when Draco Malfoy climbed unsteadily out of it.
He was seeing things. Or dreaming. Yes. Dreaming made sense because why would Draco Malfoy be in his living room while Harry still had a hand wrapped around his cock.
Malfoy stumbled a little and then looked up, his eyes landing on Harry and brightening.
"Harry!"
He grinned and all the blood rushed from Harry's face. He yanked his hand free doing up his pants frantically as Malfoy stumbled around to the side of the couch. He seemed to slip over the arm and half fell against Harry's shoulder, giggling madly as he tried to right himself.
That was about when Harry realized what was going on. His eye brows shot up under his fringe as he helped Malfoy into a sitting position.
"Been drinking have you?" he asked.
The sheen to Malfoy's eyes was answer enough but he tried to reply anyway.
"I went out for a couple drinks," he slurred happily.
His arm suddenly dropped around Harry's shoulders and he leaned in close making Harry's whole body stiffen. If only Malfoy could know what Harry had been about to do only moments before.
He was still a little hard now and shifted awkwardly as Malfoy brought his lips close to Harry's ear.
"To get my mind off things," he whispered conspiratorially, although why, Harry had no clue.
"Is that so?"
He laughed awkwardly and abruptly choked on the noise as Malfoy began to stroke his hair.
Harry sat frozen until suddenly Malfoy whispered, his breath tickling Harry's ear.
"I like your hair," he said and suddenly Harry was on his feet his heart thundering against his ribs.
"Why are you here?" he demanded. Maybe a bit harsh but his nerves were too frazzled to tone it down. His heart was beating so hard that he almost couldn't hear Malfoy's next words over the sound.
"Well…" He thought for a moment, his face turned up toward Harry innocently. "I was going to go home with this guy but then I kept thinking of you so I came here instead."
He slumped over laying flat across the couch with a sigh his eyes drifting instantly shut while Harry gaped at him.
"Wait, you what?"
He had been about to go home with some guy and then—
"Malfoy?" When the blond didn't move Harry reached out a hand, alarmed, and shook him by the shoulder.
"Malfoy?"
"Draco," he mumbled.
"What?"
"No one calls me Malfoy anymore," he muttered without opening his eyes.
Harry sighed.
"Okay well, Draco…" That felt so weird when not immediately followed with 'Malfoy'. He cleared his throat. "Draco, you need to go home and take that anti-drunk stuff you make."
He grimaced and finally opened his eyes.
"No," he said shortly.
Harry raised a brow.
"Why not?" he demanded. "You're pissed!"
Malfoy frowned up at him persistently.
"That's the point," he said as though it were obvious.
Harry stared. "Oh, so you're allowed to get pissed alone but I'm not allowed to drink at all even with friends, is that how it works?"
"Yes," Malfoy answered at once. "Because you have problems…"
His eyes drifted shut so he missed the glare that Harry was instantly shooting him.
"Like you should talk," he muttered, then sighed.
He could let that remark go seeing as how wasted his doctor was but the rest of it….
He dropped down onto the couch next to Malfoy. Leaning over him to help him up but stilling as his hand dropped onto his shoulder, staring at his face.
With his eyes closed he looked so much younger. His hair was fanned out in disarray around him in a way Harry realized quite forcefully that Malfoy looked good in. He should mess himself up more often.
Harry felt his cheeks redden as he eyed the blond. He didn't know if he'd ever gotten this close before. His skin looked so soft. And warm. He knew it would be warm because he could feel the heat radiating off of Malfoy like a furnace.
Suddenly Malfoy's eyes fluttered open and he looked up hazily at Harry, prompting him back into motion.
He slid his arm down Malfoy's back, the other looping around his chest and pulled him up into a sitting position.
"Up you go," he muttered, but the motion seemed to be too much for the blond because he didn't stop at the upright sitting position but kept coming until he was sprawled rather ludicrously in Harry's arms.
Suddenly all of Harry's previous problems about being possibly attracted to Malfoy were very hard to recall.
His heart was pounding again and the way Malfoy's ear was pressed against his chest Harry knew he could hear it.
"Did you really almost go home with a guy?" he asked uneasily.
He nodded against Harry's chest seeming to get comfortable there before lifting his head marginally so that their eyes could meet.
"I wanted to," he started. "But then…" he frowned as though trying to understand a mystery of life, "the second he started touching me all I could think about was you."
Harry's hands began to shake so hard he couldn't move them from their spot, still clasped around Malfoy. There were about a zillion things to say to that but of course Harry chose the most insignificant one.
"So, you're gay then?"
Malfoy frowned, the insecurity in his eyes making Harry regret it at once.
"Does that bother you?" he asked.
"No," he said at once. "It doesn't bother me, not at all. In fact…"
How should he say this? How should he tell Malfoy that being gay didn't bother him. That having Malfoy in his arms was sort of frighteningly sexy. The way his body fit against Harry's, the feel of his strong body—hard but soft at the same time—like Harry could be rough with him and not have to worry about the consequences.
Malfoy could feel Harry's arousal Harry knew because he was moving now, pulling his but to sit closer to Harry and therefore higher so that their chests matched up, their faces at the same level.
His warm hands travelled up Harry's side finally settling on his jaw and Harry abruptly forgot how to breathe.
"Too bad you're straight," he said and then with a sudden moan he ducked over the side of the couch, puking his guts onto the floor—and yes—Harry's feet too.
AN: yes I know, that's a mean place to end but…. Hehehehehe. For their first out of office encounter I wanted it to be particularly awful. :P
As usual, please R&R! 3
Oh! Btw, would it be okay to plug my original fiction? http:/www(.)fictionpress(.)com/~rukaya the new stories are; The First Hill and Public Displays of Affection. :D
