I know Thanksgiving was a few days ago, but whatever, I'm going to subject you all to a list of things I am thankful for:

-The number of people who got the Drapple reference and laughed at hallucinatory Draco

-The people who felt bad for Cho (I always felt bad for her in the books, even if I was glad that she and Harry never really happened)

-All of the great reviews I've gotten

-The awesome Drarry moment that was supposed to be in the last movie, even if it didn't get put in (If any of you are interested, I wrote a drabble on it that will serve as the foundation of the story I'm planning after Synthetic Bonds….don't worry though, there's still some ways to go here.)

-Tumblr! That's how I found the Drarry clip, as well as people who have been reading this story. I freaked out when I found a quote from the last chapter in the drarry tag. Thank you to somanylivestoshare for also making a graphic out of it. My fangirl heart nearly exploded from delight.

-All of you who are reading this story. I hope you all are enjoying it so far!

As he headed home, Harry found himself entrenched in a moral dilemma regarding Draco Malfoy, a concept so utterly foreign to him that he was tempted to forego the whole process and just punch Malfoy in the face so that everything could return to normal. After all, they were engaged, but that didn't really mean they were in a relationship, right? He didn't have to tell Malfoy that Cho had kissed him. He didn't owe Malfoy any sort of explanation. He wasn't required to hear Malfoy's arrogant voice express the sentiment everyone dreads to hear: "I told you so."

Besides, Malfoy probably wouldn't even care. Harry had ended the kiss almost as soon as it started, so it wasn't exactly a big deal. And since the likelihood that Malfoy was emotionally invested in who Harry kissed was approximately zero, there was no real need to keep him up to date.

This thought had just occurred to Harry when Hermione's voice started sounding reason in his head. This wasn't a surprising occurrence; if Hermione had a super power, it was the ability to interject her voice into any moral quandary. She might not actually know that Harry was currently debating whether he was required to tell his fiancé that another person had just kissed him, but that didn't mean that Hermione couldn't exert her influence.

"Harry," inner-voice-Hermione started in a voice full of reproach, "you have to tell him."

"I don't want to!" Harry felt infantile as he thought it, but without the presence of an audience, the childish thoughts flowed freely in his mind.

"Stop being petulant," Hermione's voice scolded, "You are a grown adult, and you need to act your age."

"But it's not like Malfoy even cares who I kiss. He'll probably be relieved."

"Perfect," she countered, "That means that you have no reason to not tell him."

"Yeah, but he's going to make fun of me," Harry pleaded. "He said this was going to happen, and now he's going to tell me that he was right."

"Harry James Potter, how old are you? Five? Grow the fuck up." Harry was starting to think that his mind was having a difficult time replicating the typical eloquence of his friend. "And what are you?" the voice continued in a harsh tone, "Chicken? Afraid of the big bad Draco making a little fun of you?" And with that, it was official: Harry's subconscious had no sympathy for his plight.

Harry groaned, shutting his eyes in a desperate attempt to shut out Hermione's voice. The plan was successful, mostly because he leaned his head back suddenly enough to hit it hard against the headrest, the soft pain offering a brief reprieve. Still, the internal debate raged on until the taxi reached his apartment. As he paid the driver, Harry still couldn't figure out what he was going to say to Draco, if he said anything at all. Each step to the apartment seemed to punctuate his indecision.

He should tell Draco.

Step.

No, that's a dumb idea.

Step.

But it's the right thing to do.

Step.

But is it really?

Step.

Yes.

Step.

Fine, but did Malfoy really deserve the right thing?

Step.

Maybe not, but that's no excuse.

Step.

Shit, the doors only a few feet away. There's still time to run away.

Step.

But then the Hermione voice in your head is going to call you a chicken for the rest of your life.

Step.

When he finally managed to get ahold of himself and open the door to the apartment like a normal functioning person, the sight of Draco reading a book with his back against the arm of the couch while the TV was on almost inspired him to run quickly in the opposite direction. Instead, he quickly walked over to the kitchen and grabbed a beer.

"Have you just been sitting here all night?" he asked when finally felt his nerves calm down.

"It's been a long week," Draco replied defensively. "Sometimes you just want to spend your Friday night at home reading and watching TV with a beer to keep you company."

"Isn't drinking by yourself considered a sign of alcoholism?"

Draco looked over at Harry. "I'm unusually grateful for your presence then," he said, raising his glass in acknowledgment.

Harry joined Draco on the couch, watching as three attractive men on the screen worked to battle some supernatural crisis.

"You've never seen this show before, have you," Draco noted, laughing at Harry's perplexed expression as one of the men used salt to draw a circle on the ground.

"No, I'm trying to figure out what's going on. Something about the end of the world?"

"Well, those two are brothers," Draco explained, pointing at two of the men. And then pointing at a man in a trench coat he added, "The other one is an angel."

"An angel? But didn't he just say something about defying god?"

"Yeah, he does that."

"Is it because he's in love with that older brother guy?" Harry asked, waving a finger vaguely at the TV.

"Excellent, Potter," Draco said. "I never thought you would be so good at picking up subtext."

Harry pretended to not hear Draco's back-handed compliment. "Is it really subtext if they obviously want to make out with each other?"

"I guess it is when the writers refuse to acknowledge their undying love for each other."

"And you still watch the show?"

"The guys are pretty." Harry nodded, acknowledging the validity of this point. "Plus, I always hope that if I watch long enough, the writers will come around and realize that they've effectively written one of the greatest romances of all time."

"And is there any sign that will happen?"

"No. This is an older episode, but the longer the show goes, the more they fuck it up."

Harry continued watching the show, unsure of how anyone could argue that there was no love between the angel and the older brother. He was so lost in thought that he had almost completely forgotten what it was he was supposed to be telling Draco. It was only when Draco casually asked him, "So, how was dinner?" in a taunting tone that Harry froze up, remembering the dilemma he should have settled by now.

"It was good," he replied, covering his anxiety with a hurried sip of his beer.

"Good? Is that all?" Draco barely looked up from his book as he asked the question.

"Um…the food was really good." Harry hoped that Draco couldn't see the heat that was rushing to his cheeks.

"Yes, Potter," Draco sighed, "We've already established that things were good."
"And…um…she cried about breaking up with Cedric."

Malfoy briefly glanced up, an eyebrow arched in surprise. "That sounds less good."

"And then she kissed me." Harry mumbled the last sentence, hoping that the words would only just slip into Malfoy's awareness.

Malfoy's reply was a very succinct, "Oh." Harry considered accepting that response and moving on, but his personality was not trained to ignore an obvious provocation.

"'Oh'? Is that it?"

"I'm filled with an all-consuming jealousy, Potter," Draco replied blandly. "I will now proceed to rage incoherently about how you have violated the purity of our blessed union." He turned the page and continued reading.

Harry rolled his eyes. He was just starting to get off the couch when Draco quickly threw his book aside. Before he could process what was happening, Harry found himself back on the couch. Draco was now straddling him, his arms planted firmly on the couch so that Harry was trapped. "So," Draco asked, a cruel grin playing across his face, "how was it?"

Harry tried to push Draco aside, but this only caused Draco to further settle down into his hips. The sudden friction between their groins inflamed Harry as he collapsed back into the couch. "I thought you weren't jealous," he replied irritably.

"I'm not," Draco answered coolly. "But you just got kissed by a woman you've had a crush on since puberty and who happens to be on the rebound. I want to know how you managed to fuck it all up."

"What makes you think I fucked anything up?"

"A firm belief that you have been placed in this world for my entertainment." When Harry went silent and refused to make eye contact, Draco's grin grew even larger. "You DID fuck it up, didn't you!"

"No!" Harry insisted. "I didn't do anything."

"Come on, tell me. I won't tell anyone," Draco promised. "Well, I might start a blog just to announce to the world, but I won't actually tell anyone. So tell me, what was it? Did you eat too many onions at dinner? Did you use too much tongue? Because I'm fine with your tongue-to-kiss ratio, but I could see a person of a more delicate constitution finding it a bit overwhelming. Oh! I have it!" Draco paused dramatically, "Did you fart?"

"Nothing!" Harry practically yelled in Draco's face. "I didn't do anything."

"Well, that's good," Draco's voice becoming meaner, "Because the more I think about it, the more I think this works for everyone. Cho gets her rebound, and if you ever knock her up, we can adopt the kid."

"Malfoy—"

"I mean, we don't usually let bastards into the family, but clearly we've started making exceptions."

"Do you really enjoy being an asshole, Malfoy?" Harry countered furiously, "Or am I just a special case?"

"You know what I find fascinating about you, Potter?" Draco spat out as he leaned forward. "No matter what you do, you're never in the wrong."

"That's not true," Harry replied, trying to avoid staring at Draco's lips as they got closer.

"Really?" Draco played loosely with Harry's tie, his eyes zeroing in on a small piece of lint. "Because let's run down tonight's events. You went to dinner with a woman you've had a crush on since you were in high school. This dinner took place at one of the most romantic restaurants in the city, and yet you had naiveté to think you weren't on a date. And when the dinner turns into a date and you kiss her, but your fiancé has the gall to not respond with enthusiastic applause, I'm the asshole. Not you. Me. But wait," Draco paused, a hint of venom permeating the momentary silence, "Let me guess. There's something missing from the story that somehow makes you the good guy after all."

Harry wasn't sure if he should take such satisfaction in the truth. "…I didn't kiss her."

Draco stared sharply at Harry. "What?"

"I didn't kiss her. She kissed me, but I backed off."

The sight of complete shock on Draco's face was priceless. "You…you didn't kiss her?"

Harry was sure that his cheeks were bright red in embarrassment. "Er…no."

"Well, why not?"

"…I don't know. I just didn't want to."

"I hope you didn't do it out of some great dedication to this marriage," Draco declared. "I would hate to be at the root of your gallantry." Harry didn't reply, avoiding Draco's stare by looking off in the distance. Draco leaned closer, his mouth brushing Harry's ear. "Tell me, Potter," his lips forming the words along the ridge, "what the fuck were you thinking about when you decided to not kiss Cho?"

Harry tensed beneath Draco. "You," he answered, not sure why he had decided to answer so honestly.

Draco bit down hard on his lobe in response, eliciting a loud gasp from Harry. "Liar," he sneered harshly.

Draco pushed himself up, but before he could remove himself from his straddling position, Harry reached out with one arm and wrapped it around Draco's back, pulling him back down. Draco just barely managed to get his arms around Potter, preventing him from completely collapsing. "Malfoy," Harry began brutally, "Don't try to pretend that you know what I'm thinking or who I'm thinking about."

"Geesh, Potter," Draco tried to sound unperturbed, "you don't need to get so hurt when someone calls you a liar. I get called a liar all the time—even when I'm telling the truth."

Harry responded by pushing Draco harder against his lap and using his free hand to pull Draco towards him by his t-shirt. "Do you want to know what I'm thinking about now?" The hand around Draco's back reached underneath the shirt. He began to run his index finger down, putting pressure with his nail so that he was scratching a thin line down Draco's spine. Draco closed his eyes; the pain seemed to only enhance the pleasure of Harry's touch.

"No," Draco tried to reply, only to find his voice muffled by his own gasps for air. Harry deepened the pressure of his nail in response, digging deeper as he reached the middle of Draco's back. The sharp sensation forced Draco to arch forward so that he almost fell entirely on the dark-haired man beneath him. "Yes," he cried out in a combination of arousal and defeat. "Fine, yes!"

"You," Harry replied calmly, only the lustful gleam in his eye offering any hint at what he felt about the man currently squirming in his lap. He continued to scrape down Draco's back, taking in the way Draco throw his head back and shut his eyes as a moan worked down his throat. He reached down and unbuckled Draco's belt, a small smirk appearing on his face as he worked the zipper down and realized that Draco was hard from his coarse touch.

Draco began to run his lips down Harry's neck, biting down just hard enough to elicit a soft groan when he reached the base. "You know what else I've been thinking about?" Harry continued, his voice becoming uneven as he tried to talk through Draco's ministrations. This time, he didn't wait for Draco to reply. "I've been thinking about how nice it would be to bend you over my desk and fuck you. I've been thinking about how great it would be to have my hand wrapped around your cock as I come inside of you. I've been thinking of how much I want to hear your voice screaming my name."

As Harry kept talking, Draco's mouth had become rougher, his teeth decidedly less gentle as it latched on to the soft skin so that Harry's words devolved into a series of groans. "So what's keeping you, Potter?" he challenged after releasing his neck. "Are you scared?"

Harry replied true to form, pulling Draco's head back and crushing their lips together. When he broke apart, Draco almost cried out in disappointment, willing to beg for more, dignity be damned. But then he saw Harry spit onto his fingers, and suddenly the room was much too hot as his own anticipation grew. He hastily removed his shirt, enjoying the way Potter eyes skimmed down his now naked torso.

Harry pulled Draco even closer to him, both men breathing deeper as their erections rubbed against each other. Harry's wet fingers were now trailing down Draco's lower back before dipping underneath the fabric of his jeans and boxers. Draco began to undo Harry's tie and shirt, running his hands up and down the bare chest as Harry teased one of his fingers around Draco's entrance.

Draco captured Harry's lips in his own, gasping into the kiss as the slick digit entered him. He relaxed his body, letting Harry slowly insert his finger further before beginning a measured rhythm, setting a deliberate pace that had Draco clinging to him for support. As he became accustomed to the feeling inside of him, Draco began to grind his hips against Harry, stopping only when Harry found the spot that made Draco cry out for more.

The TV was still blaring, but an explosion could have taken place on screen and neither of them would have known. Finally, Draco couldn't take it. "Bedroom! Now," he ordered.

"Which one?" Harry moaned back.

"Yours," Draco replied assertively. "It's closer."

Harry could have easily argued that Draco's room was only three feet past his own, but he could see the man's point. An extra three feet seemed like it would take an eternity to cross. As it was, it took the two a long time just to reach Harry's room. This was likely the result of their attempts to walk while stripping each other naked. The fact that they were refusing to break the contact between their lips probably only complicated matters. And of course, Potter had insisted on pushing Draco against a wall, letting his fingers rake down Draco's chest as he thrust hard so that their erections were rubbing against each other. Draco would have objected so that they could hurry their path to the bedroom, but the lust-driven naked Potter was a sight he had never beheld and was finding very hard to resist.

When they finally reached his room, Draco broke apart. He walked over to Harry's nightstand, opening drawers until found what he was looking for. Harry was going to protest at this intrusion into his private property, but then he saw the bottle of lube that he had stashed after moving now casually dangling from one of Malfoy's hands. The gray eyes were glittering as Draco edged onto the bed, squirting some of the lube onto his hand. Malfoy was now spread before him with the slippery substance around his fingers, running his hand down his body and inserted his finger where Harry's had been. He immediately let out a loud moan, his eyes closing and his back arching as he continued to touch himself. Harry had never thought of what it would look like to see Malfoy like this, but it was unlikely that he be able to forget the image.

"Staring is fine, Potter," Malfoy teased, "But surely you had something more direct in mind?"

Harry snapped out of his reverie, climbing onto the bed. The sight of Malfoy touching himself was driving him crazy, taunting him as thoughts of everything he wanted to do to the other man seemed to become one mass fantasy in his head. He licked a slow trail from Malfoy's groin to the base of his neck before returning to the lips he found so entrancing. Malfoy grabbed Harry's ass, effectively pushing him up Draco's body until Harry had his hands against the wall, his knees straddling Draco's shoulders. With his free hand, Malfoy ran his thumb down Harry's length and caressed the tip with his tongue. He moved his tongue down, lightly massaging the balls with his lips before working his way back up and taking the full length of the erection in his mouth.

From his vantage point, Harry could see Malfoy working his mouth as he continued to thrust his fingers inside himself. As his hips bucked forward, causing him to thrust into the hot mouth below him, Harry continued to stare at the erotic sight beneath him. "God, Malfoy," he moaned, his breathing becoming even more ragged. Draco opened his eyes, desire swimming in their depths. Harry didn't know what it was about Malfoy, but he couldn't remember the last time he had wanted one person so badly.

He didn't want to move from this position, but finally he knew that he couldn't hold on any longer. Mustering up the last vestiges of self-control he had left, he moved back down so that his chest was lined up with Draco's. Draco and Harry looked at each other, silently acknowledging that they were about to go past the point of no return. If either of them had any qualms about proceeding, they quickly forgot these issues as they assessed each other's bodies.

Draco removed his fingers, reaching out to guide Harry. As he entered, Harry let out an aroused growl as he felt the exquisite tightness around him. Draco exhaled, moving his hips slowly to get his body accustomed to the feeling of Potter moving inside of him. Harry began to move his hips in response, slowly increasing his speed until he and Draco were urgently thrusting against each other.

A layer of sweat began to form between their bodies as they both gave in to what was becoming an overwhelming need. Draco's arms were around Harry's back, his nails digging into hard muscle. "Please, Potter," Draco implored, trying to catalyze Harry to thrust harder and faster into him, a request that Potter happily acquiesced to. Their lips crashed into each other, their tongues waging an intense battle that matched the fury of their bodies' desires.

The idea that Potter was inside of him, driving Draco crazy with the sight of his taut body thrusting, was suddenly intoxicating. Malfoy never thought that he would be excited by the knowledge that Potter could do this to him, but right now, the idea of being fucked by Potter of all people seemed to make perfect sense. All of his resentment for the other man took a backseat to the incredibly sensation created by the friction of their bodies. With a great shudder, Draco came, his orgasm adding to the slick layer between his body and Potter's. Harry followed soon after, his breath coming in irregular gasps as he tried to catch his breath.

The two stared at each other, their chests heaving as they tried to make sense of what had just taken place. Harry removed himself, blushing slightly as he looked at the mess that had formed across the two of them. Walking over to his closet, he rummaged through a pile of clothes that were on the ground and tossed Draco a ratty t-shirt that was riddled with holes.

"Really, Potter?" Draco asked, skeptical that anyone would bother to keep such a useless piece of cloth in his closet.

Harry had managed to find another equally destroyed t-shirt. "You're free to get up and get your own towel," he answered as he wiped his torso with the shirt, "I just thought you might appreciate getting a little cleaned up before you head back to your room."

Draco had to acknowledge that Potter had a point and proceeded to try and remedy the situation on his own torso. He couldn't stop staring at the black-haired man, appreciating the sight of a completely naked Harry Potter. Blaise had a point—Potter really had grown into an attractive person. Looking at strength evinced by the muscles that made up his back and legs, it was hard to imagine that Potter had ever been the skinny little kid who barely filled out his uniform when he'd first started high school.

This was the first time Draco had been in Potter's room after Potter's move. He wasn't quite sure what he had expected out of it, but the room seemed to fit. There wasn't much in the way of decoration, just the basic furniture and some framed photos. On the nightstand was a picture of a red-haired woman with eyes so green they seemed to shine like jewels. Next to her was a black-haired man, a broad grin on his face. A small baby completed the photo, his hair shooting off in every direction as he giggled at something in the distance.

"These are your parents?" It was more of a statement really. There was no way that Potter's face and bright green eyes came from anyone other than these two individuals.

Harry walked over and picked up the photo. "Yeah." He sat down next to Draco, a wistful look filling his eyes. "According to Sirius, he was waving a stuffed owl behind the camera to get me to look in the right direction, but when he took the picture, I got distracted by a real bird."

"Sirius?"

"My godfather."

"Ah." Draco took the photo from Harry's hands, looking closer at the happy family. "You look so much like your dad—"

"—but with my mother's eyes," Harry completed for him. "Yeah," he laughed, "I get that a lot."

There was still a sad look in his eyes, and for a moment, Draco wished that he could somehow wipe it away. "Hey," he noticed suddenly, "you don't have that scar in this picture."

Harry instinctively reached up to touch his scar, his fingers remembering the shape of the lightning bolt that appeared on his forehead. "I got it in the accident. It's basically the only injury I got."

"The accident? You mean, the one—"

"Yeah," Harry interrupted, not wanting to say the words out loud. He didn't usually talk about his parents with others; Hermione and Ron were among the few who knew what he had gone through. Still, it was strangely calming to sit here next to Malfoy, talking about his parents. "They were cops. Apparently, my mom hated my dad for a long time, but she told him that if he ever saved a baby from a burning building, she would consider going on a date with him."

"So he did?"

"No, of course not," a faint smile appeared on Harry's face. "But they got stuck on a case together, and he took a bullet for her. I guess that's the next best thing to saving a baby." Draco laughed with Harry. Their shoulders were touching, a strangely intimate contact for the two men, even with their recent activities. "It was a drunk driver," Harry continued. "He hit us straight on. Apparently, it was a miracle that I didn't get injured."

"Is Sirius the guy who would show up at all of our games?" Draco asked, recalling the wild black-haired man who always cheered vociferously for Harry.

"Yeah. My dad and him were practically brothers. He kind of went a little crazy after the accident, so I didn't get to go with him." Harry swallowed as he thought about the one person who had looked after him as a kid. "He cleaned up his act eventually, but he didn't have the money to raise me. He was the one whole told me to apply for the scholarship though, so I guess I owe a lot of where I am to him."

The urge to put his arm around Potter grew inside of Draco, if only to provide some semblance of comfort. "Where is he now?"

Harry waited a few seconds, swallowing back the lump that had formed in his throat before responding. "He passed away last year. Cancer."

"Oh," Draco replied softly, placing the photo gently back on the desk. "I'm sorry."

"Of all the things you should apologize for, Malfoy," Potter replied with a sardonic grin, "I don't think that's one of them."

The bed around them had sunk from the pressure of their bodies, causing their hands to brush against each other. Draco reached out with his other hand, lightly lifting Harry's chin. He leaned forward and swept his lips down Potter's forehead, tracing the thin lightning-shaped scar. Harry closed his eyes, sinking into the soft touch.

Draco gently placed a kiss on Potter's lips before breaking away. The two looked away from each other, confused about the sudden affection that had taken place. Fucking each other crazy was one thing, but any semblance of emotional closeness was just too much.

"So…um…I'm going to go take a shower now," Draco offered awkwardly, standing up and running his hand through his hair.

"Er…yeah…right."

"Okay then."

"Yeah."

The two men stared at each other, unsure of how to proceed after a moment of emotional catharsis. Finally, with an embarrassed, "Um…bye then…" Draco left the room, slapping himself mentally at the stupidity of saying "bye" to the roommate you just had sex with when all you're doing is going to the bathroom.

…..

Saturday morning managed to be only slightly less awkward than the night before. They grunted their good mornings to each other some time in the early afternoon, barely raising their heads from their breakfast. Neither of them wanted to admit that they had spent most of the night reliving the feeling of the other's body and debating the merits of just walking to the other room for another goo dfuck. Harry had almost completely forgotten about Cho as thoughts of Malfoy, slick with sweat beneath him, kept his blood hot through the night.

Their phones both rang at the same time. The interruption seemed welcome until they both looked down to read the message that had been sent to both of them. Harry set down the phone on the table, glaring at it as if it had just turned into a stinking pile of shit. "We could always tell them we planned a trip or something," Draco offered with a kindness Harry was starting to find comforting. "We don't have to go if you don't want to."

The text from Narcissa was still bright on the screen of Harry's phone, the message describing the dinner party the Dursleys had invited them to the next week still flashing at them both.

"No," Harry replied, his voice firm with resolve. "It's just a dinner party. What's the worst that can happen?"

Gah, first sex scene I've ever written. It took me so long because I had no idea what I was doing. I hope it wasn't a let down. For all the top!Draco fans, don't fret, his time will come.

Oh, for anyone who is wondering, yes, Draco and Harry are officially Destiel shippers in this story. It seemed only fitting. (For those who don't know what "Destiel" refers to, it's the name of the ship given for two characters-Dean/Castiel-from the show Supernatural. I highly recommend it, especially the first five seasons.)