If you're ready, I'm willing and able
Help me lay my cards out on the table
You're mine and I'm yours for the taking
Right now the rules we made are meant for breaking
What you get ain't always what you see
But satisfaction's guaranteed
They say what you give is always what you need
So if you want me to lay my hands on you
Lay your hands on me, lay your hands on me, lay your hands on me,
Lay your hands on me, lay your hands on me, lay your hands on me,
Lay your hands on me
Lay Your Hands On Me ~ Bon Jovi
Sitting at the kitchen table, Harry was enjoying his first Firewhisky of the evening. Despite Hermione's threats, he was, once again, drinking in the privacy of his own home. For the sake of all other human beings, he decided solitary confinement was best for him. Every time he had contact with another person it ended badly - for them.
Hermione, Andromeda, Draco: he'd hurt them all. He couldn't have a conversation with Hermione that didn't turn into a row and she only wanted to help. There was no way to describe the cruel things he's said to Andromeda. He was lucky she didn't punch him in the face. And then there was Draco - the worst of all. He'd bothered Draco when he was at his worst, traumatized over his mother's fatal diagnosis. Somehow their conversations led to a drunken kiss that Draco would have to live with for the rest of his life.
Slamming the glass on the table, he tried to forget about Draco. Why was the beguiling blonde still stuck in his head? Why did he want to return to Joe's just to see if Draco was there waiting for him?
"Of course, he wouldn't be waiting for you, you prat," he muttered to himself. "That'd be like you standing in the middle of the Chamber of Secrets waiting for the Basilisk to kill you."
Just thinking about Draco like that was unfair to him. He got drunk and kissed him. So what? That didn't mean he owed Harry anything. And the last thing Harry needed to do was lurk around Draco's local reminding him of his shameful mistake. Draco had enough to deal with.
He was getting up to refill his glass when there was a soft knock at his door. He sighed. Only two people were masochistic enough to come to his flat: Hermione and Andromeda. Hermione Apparated inside. Andromeda knocked. She must be worried that he hadn't come to see Teddy. After the scene he caused during his last visit, he thought she'd be relieved he hadn't been back.
Sitting his empty glass down, he approached the door. The last thing he wanted to do was face Andromeda, but he knew she wouldn't give-up and go away, especially if Teddy had been asking for him.
"I'm sorry," he said, flinging the door opened. "I was totally out of li-" He stopped mid-sentence as he stared into grey eyes, framed by blonde hair. "You're not Andromeda."
"What was your first clue?"
Harry could tell his visitor was trying to sound snarky, but his voice broke, revealing his nervousness.
Shaking his head, Harry tried to get over his own nervousness. The man who'd consumed his thoughts for days was standing in front of him and he had no idea why.
"Um…come in," he finally said, motioning Draco inside.
He led him into his tiny living room, and waited for him to sit. Draco chose the easy-chair as opposed to the sofa, probably so Harry couldn't get too close. What the hell was Draco Malfoy doing in his living room?
"You want a drink?" he asked, standing awkwardly in the doorway.
"Yeah," Draco replied, not looking at him. "That'd be great."
Harry stated towards his bedroom, moving slowing. He realized he was slightly unsteady on his feet. There was no way to know if his new-found inability to walk properly was because Draco was in his flat or because he was damn confused about Draco being in his flat. Either way, he knew it was Draco's fault.
"Where are you going?" Draco asked. His expression was hurt. Did he think Harry was going to climb out the window and run away? "We passed the kitchen - from the other direction."
Harry grinned. "I keep my alcohol in my bedroom closet under the Invisibility Cloak, in case of Hermione. Why don't you grab us a couple of glasses since you clearly know where my kitchen is?"
"Yeah, sure." He sounded uncomfortable and looked away from Harry's gaze.
In his bedroom, Harry ignored the half-empty bottle of Firewhisky, grabbing the full one. This was bound to be a smoother night if alcohol was readily available. He wasn't worried about keeping the bottle out of sight in the living room. If Hermione made an appearance, she'd be far more interested in Draco's presence than a bottle of Firewhisky. Not that he had any way of explaining him to her. He couldn't even explain him to himself.
When Harry returned to the living room, Draco was back on the chair, clutching a glass so tightly his fingers paled. Another glass sat on the small coffee table between the chair and the sofa. It took all his concentration not to spill as he filled the two glasses before sitting on the sofa to stare at his unexpected guest.
"So," he said, desperately searching his mind for something to say. "How's your mother?"
"Getting weaker," Draco replied, taking a drink from the shaking glass in his hand. At least, he wasn't afraid Harry would try to poison him.
"I'm sorry."
"I know you are," Draco sighed, "and I really appreciate it since you seem to be in the minority. That Umbridge look-a-like thinks she deserves to die." Tears glistened in his eyes, but he batted them away. "Speaking of people who want to see my mother dead, why'd you think I was Andromeda?"
"You knocked."
"What was I supposed to do, sing Hail Merlin?"
"Andromeda knocks. Hermione pops in. No one else comes."
"You'd think the Chosen One would have more friends."
"You'd think the Slytherin Prince would have better things to do than grace me with his presence."
Draco emptied his glass before he replied, "I'm no prince."
Harry offered him the bottle, but he shook his head.
"Thanks, but I didn't come here to get drunk. I can do that all by myself."
"Why are you here?" Harry asked, sitting his half-empty glass on the coffee table. "Not that I don't want you here or anything like that. I just never expected Draco Malfoy to show-up at my flat."
"I owe you an apology," he said, "and don't be a git about it. This isn't easy for me. I'm sorry I kissed you. It was completely inappropriate. I just want you to know that I didn't plan it. When I suggested we check-in to that motel to sober up that's all I intended to do. The rest just happened. I swear."
Harry stared. He hadn't been expecting this.
"I never thought you planned it. And you don't have to be sorry about it, at least, not on my behalf."
"You mean, you don't regret it?" Draco looked at him with an unreadable expression.
Was this some kind of prank? Did Draco want him to admit he was attracted to him just so he could mock and reject him? That was the type of thing Draco might've enjoyed at Hogwarts, but a lot had changed since then - maybe even Draco.
He had no idea what to say. He didn't even know what the truth was. A few minutes ago, he regretted the kiss because he assumed Draco regretted it. Now it was hard to regret something that made him feel alive when he'd felt dead inside for so long.
"Draco, I don't think we should talk about this." The only true words he felt safe sharing.
Eyebrows raised, Draco started at him.
"You called me Draco."
Shit. He hadn't meant to do that. He was giving too much away.
"Sorry. It won't happen again."
"No, I like it," Draco said quickly, smiling. "Not many people have ever used my name. I'm just Malfoy, not on friendly terms with anyone. It's nice to hear it."
"Well, I think our relationship has a certain amount of familiarity, if not consistency. We've bullied each other, nearly killed each other, saved each other's lives and snogged." Harry laughed, shaking his head. "I think we're good to switch to a first name basis."
"When you put it that way." Draco smiled.
As he watched Draco, Harry felt something inside him stir. They were getting too comfortable with each other and the feelings he'd been burying since the kiss were beginning to resurface. He was even beginning to question the necessity of hiding these unexpected urges. He expected Draco to be hateful and ashamed, but if he felt those things, would be sitting in Harry's living room?
"Harry, what's wrong?" Draco looked at him with what appeared to be genuine concern. What the hell was happening here? Their whole dynamic was shifting. It was almost scary.
Hearing his name uttered from Draco's lips gave him a rush of pleasure. He wondered if this was what his old rival felt when he said Draco for the first time only a few minutes earlier.
"If my being here is a problem, I can go," Draco went on. "I know I had no right to come."
"No," Harry blurted out, louder than he intended. "You don't have to go. I didn't mean to zone out like that." He forced a smile. "I'm usually drunk off my arse by now. My mind's having trouble assimilating." He doubted lack of alcohol was the only thing his mind was struggling to make sense of, but decided not to mention that.
"You were thinking about the kiss, weren't you?" Draco watched him closely as if trying to read his thoughts.
Taking a deep breath, Harry closed his eyes briefly, still unsure what to admit it and what to keep hidden.
"You're not going to let this go, are you?"
"No."
"Why don't you tell me how you feel about it then?" He sounded angry, but was really just desperate to avoid admitting the truth.
"I'm the cowardly Slytherin and you're the big, brave Gryffindor." Draco smirked at his own joke.
"Cute."
"I do work out, you know."
Harry rolled his eyes. "You really want to talk about the kiss? Fine. I'll tell you the truth. I'm already a broke, unemployed alcoholic. What have I got left to lose if you're playing with me? Snogging you was great, Draco. I loved the feel of your lips on mine. I haven't been able to stop thinking about you since it happened. Happy?"
At first, Draco just gaped at him. Then he opened and closed his mouth as if unable to form words. The scene was surprisingly adorable. Harry struggled not to laugh. After all these years, he'd finally broken Draco Malfoy. Surely, his father would hear about this.
"Are you messing with me?" he finally managed to ask.
Again, Harry rolled his eyes. Draco was thicker than he ever realized.
"Yes," he sighed, shaking his head. "I frequently lie to put myself in vulnerable and potentially humiliating situations."
"Then why didn't you come back?" Draco looked like a sad little boy and Harry was caught off-guard.
"I-I didn't think you'd want to see me," he stammered, looking away from the soulful grey eyes piercing his heart.
"You prat," Draco cried. "I kissed you, remember? I wasn't that pissed. I made a choice to do it because I wanted to. I knew it was stupid. I thought you'd hate me for it. Then you disappeared, just like I expected."
"If I did what you expected, why'd you come here?"
Draco hesitated, looking uncomfortable. It was one thing for Harry to blurt out his feelings. He'd done it all his life. Draco was naturally more private and cautious. Harry struggled to discuss this; Draco had to be going through hell.
"I missed you, all right," he said, staring down at the floor. "A big part of me wants more than friendship from you, but I knew that was mental. When I chased you away, I thought things would go back to normal, which they did. I'd just forgotten how much normal sucked. My mother's dying and you're the only person in the world I have to talk to. I've finally found something that I can't handle on my own. So I came here to apologize. Having you as a friend is better than not having you at all. And I can't believe I just said that out-loud. You're a horrible influence on me. I sound like a total sap."
Harry was less surprised by Draco's words than he expected. The whole evening was leading up to this. Now they both knew the truth. They wanted the same thing, as mental as that was.
Not allowing himself to think about the possible consequences, he moved across the room and settled himself on the arm of the chair where Draco was sitting. Draco watched him as he leaned over pressing their lips together. Draco's mouth opened for him and he slid inside. He shivered as they pushed desperately against each other.
"You can have more," he whispered when he finally found the strength to pull back. "You can have all of me. You can have whatever you want."
He took Draco's hand and pulled the dazed blonde to his feet, leading him across the room, towards his bedroom. Draco didn't say anything, but clung tightly to Harry's hand as if afraid it could be ripped away at any moment. Squeezing back, Harry tried to assure him, without words, that he wasn't going anywhere. Even under the circumstances, it was strange to see him so vulnerable - so human. He knew this was something Draco normally kept hidden and he was honored to see this side of him.
Leading him to the bed, Harry lay down, pulling Draco on top of him. Their lips met again, more fiercely than before. Responding to instinct rather than reason, Harry allowed his hand to wander under Draco's shirt, trailing his fingers along his chest before pulling the shirt loose and tossing it aside.
When Draco responded in kind, Harry's body tensed, preparing for sensations it had long been denied. He trailed his lips down Draco's bare chest just enjoying the feel of his body and the taste of him.
While Harry continued to kiss his chest, Draco easily freed them both from their trousers, allowing his hands to venture lower, feeling Harry's hardness. At his touch, convulsions went through Harry. He pulled away enough to reposition himself so he could feel Draco next to his errection. Draco groaned in anticipation, feeling how close Harry was to being inside him.
After nibbling Draco's ear, he whispered, "Are you sure you want to do this?"
"Yes," he moaned.
Draco muttered a lubrication spell and Harry thrust himself inside without the benefit of further preparation. Draco whimpered, obviously trying to hide the pain Harry was inflicting.
Tensing, Harry stopped moving. This moment had been playing out in his fantasies for days and when it really happened, he fucked up. He was impulsive and rough; he'd hurt Draco, which was the last thing he wanted to do.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, massaging Draco's shoulders. "I didn't mean to hurt you. Do you want me to stop?"
"Fuck no," he cried, bucking into Harry to emphasise his point.
Grinning, Harry continued, but at a slower, more gentle pace. Now the sounds coming from Draco indicated pleasure rather than pain. When he felt himself near release, he reached around Draco, taking his errection in his hands. They came together.
After a quick cleaning spell, Harry found himself tired, but happier than he'd been in a long time. He settled into Draco's arms, breathing in the scent of sex mixed with spice. He sighed with contentment.
He didn't know how much time had passed when Draco moved beside him, kissing his forehead.
"I have to go."
"Okay," Harry replied, trying to conceal his hurt. They couldn't even spend the night together.
Draco slid from the bed, dressing quickly, without so much as glancing at his lover. He did, however, stop in the doorway and look back. When their eyes met, Harry was overwhelmed with fear. Did he finally realize this was a mistake? Was that why he was leaving?
"You'll come back, right?" He hated the hint of pleading in his voice.
Raising his eyebrows, Draco smiled. He strode back to the bed and kissed Harry softly.
"I'll come back for as long as you'll have me."