Call it chivalry or blackmail, but Draco couldn't resist the impulse to half-carry Potter's maudlin arse back to his own flat. After their unexpected intimacy at the bar, it was a singular opportunity to see his once-enemy off his arse. His arm slung over his shoulders, he ushered the sotted hero up the few steps that led to the hallway of his bedroom.

"'Ssnot fucken fair," he moaned as he stumbled along, smelling dizzyingly of whiskey. "'M fucken Harry fuck'n Potter!"

Draco chuckled as he led him further towards the door of his room. "Yes, such hardship, being the Chosen One. Tell me all your troubles, Boy Who Lived."

" Whyyyy," he whined. "Why d'I hafta be so fuck'n lonely all th'goddamn time?"

Draco halted. The sudden lack of movement led Harry's momentum straight to the carpet, and he stumbled under his weight, allowing him to sit against the wall with a sigh.

"You're… Lonely?" He frowned as Potter peered up at him blearily.

"Don't…" He groaned, leaning his head back against the wall as his eyes slid shut. "Don't ask me that with your stupid fuck'n face 'n shit." Draco glanced sideways at the distance left to his door, wondering if he could make it or if he should just leave him in the hallway. "Stupid… Fuck'n…" Potter hiccuped, dragging Draco's amusement back to him. "Stupid gorgeous face…"

His eyebrows shot skyward. "You… Think I'm gorgeous? "

Potter pulled a face, and adopted a simpering impression of him. "Oh, 'm Draco Mlal- Malfoy, an' I know how t'look sexy on camra," he snorted. "Fuck off."

His head lolled forward, and Draco lunged to hold him steady, a chuckle already working its way up his throat.

"Didn't see that one coming," he admitted. And then Potter's shoulders heaved as he returned all the liquor he'd drank into his lap. "That one, I did."

With another sigh, Draco set to cleaning up the mess he'd invited into his home. And though it was more trouble than he was sure Potter was worth, he couldn't truly bring himself to regret it.


Harry awoke to pain. Blinding, blistering pain throbbing in his head, and his first thought was Ruby's gonna kill me. He groaned, rolling onto his side to curl into a ball when suddenly the events of last night came rushing back to him. With a motion that sent his head spinning, he threw the covers off of him and blinked at his surroundings.

Shit.

He wasn't at home. And the last person he remembered talking to was…

"Morning, Scarhead."

Harry whipped around, groaning again at the throbbing pain in his temples. "Son of a bitch! "

Malfoy chuckled as he approached the bed Harry lay in, holding something in his hands. He couldn't see what it was, and desperately searched the sheets for his glasses.

"I seem to recall her saving your life, no?"

Wire rims were pressed into his palm, and he shoved them onto his face. Malfoy's smug grin came into as much focus as he could, the way Harry's head was pounding.

"The fuck did you do to me?"

Malfoy set what he was holding down on the bedside table with a shrug, and it was with this movement that he realized it was a glass of water and a draught of some sort.

"Listened to you vent, brought you here when you'd had too much to drink…" At that very moment, Harry realized he was beneath the covers in nothing but his briefs. His cheeks went hot as he curled under them slightly, and Malfoy seemed to notice. "Cleaned you up when you were sick on yourself. You're welcome, by the way."

He straightened again beside the bed, and Harry's flush crept into his ears. Fuck.

"Why?"

"Why what?" Malfoy asked, unphased. Harry frowned, struggling to sit up against the headboard.

"Why are you being nice to me?"

"Am I?" The blond leaned down to brace his hands atop the mattress, leveling himself with Harry's eye line as a mischievous grin danced across his lips. "Is that what you think I'm doing?"

Shit fucking bugger and tits. Harry groaned again, letting his aching head fall back against the headboard.

"What do you want?"

Malfoy reached over for the glass of water and offered it to him. "Drink."

Scowling, Harry accepted the glass and threw it back. His veins all felt like sandpaper, and it was like finding an oasis in the desert.

"As for what I want…" Harry sputtered his water as he felt a delicate finger trailing down the center of his chest. He turned his flushed alarm back to Malfoy, glancing down at his hand. "Are you sure you want to know?"

"We didn't…?" He had to ask. If he'd drunkenly slept with Draco fucking Malfoy, he was going to off himself. Please say no.

Malfoy grinned at him a moment more, enjoying his desperation a bit too much, before finally withdrawing his touch and standing to his full height again.

"No, we didn't fuck." Relief swelled through Harry.

"Thank god," he moaned slightly too fervently. And took another sip of his water, deciding to ignore Malfoy's quiet chuckle.

"Though you made a fine effort."

Harry sputtered his water again. God fucking dammit, he keeps waiting for me to be drinking! He angrily wiped his lips with the back of his hand as he scowled up at the blond.

"The fuck is that supposed to mean?"

Malfoy slowly lowered himself to a crouch, amusement shining in his eyes as he braced his elbows against the bed.

"Draco, you're so gorgeous, Draco, I want you, touch me, you're so sexy," he gave what Harry took to be an impression of him, and he wanted to throttle the man.

"You–!" He couldn't get the words out as his flush damn near burst out of his cheeks. And Malfoy laughed. Genuinely laughed.

Fuck the draught, whatever that was. He threw the covers over Malfoy, who only howled louder with laughter, and shoved himself to the opposite side of the bed, determined to find his clothes and remove himself from this fucked-up situation as quickly as possible.

"Where the fuck are my clothes, Malfoy?" he demanded, swaying slightly on his feet as his skull threatened to crack open.

He'd tossed the covers back onto the bed and was standing, hands in his pockets and a victorious grin spreading his lips. Fucking arsehole cocksucker, I hope his dick goes limp every time he tries to have sex from now on.

Despite the stream of vitriol chanting through Harry's mind, he couldn't help but notice the way Malfoy's amused gaze traveled down his body and back up to his face. Fuck. Christ, don't look at me like that. Burying the instinct to cover up, he jutted his chin out impatiently. He'd already undressed him, there was no point to it now.

"The wash is probably done by now," Malfoy finally answered after a lengthy observation of Harry. Whose flush still hadn't gone away. When Malfoy didn't immediately start leading him toward wherever his clothes were, he forced a deep inhale through his nose and released it with measured care.

"Can I have them back?"

He crossed his arms, leaning into one hip as he stood defiant of Malfoy's roving gaze. If all he wanted was a look, why go to all this trouble? He watched those gray eyes gutter slightly as they passed lower over Harry, and his stomach flipped at the way his lips parted.

"Not like they'll fit me," seemed to be his invitation as he turned on his heel and left. Harry hastened to follow him, cursing the heat in his cheeks and ears.

Fucking git, he'll pay for this. I swear on my life.


Despite the way he was openly staring, Potter didn't cuff him. Didn't even try to, as he accepted his clothes back and began redressing. Draco couldn't resist an appreciative click of his tongue when he'd bent over to shove his feet into his trousers, but still, he only glared daggers at him. And Draco's cheeks started to hurt from grinning.

God, he's fucking fit. I bet I could bounce a Galleon off that arse.

Once he'd escorted him back to his front door, something like a pit grew in his stomach. He'd had him, nearly naked and vulnerable in his flat, and nothing had happened. He sorely missed the wasted opportunity, but it seemed neither of them were, as Potter had put it, lonely enough to take this last resort.

He wants me. I know he does. But like hell would I just give over if he asked.

Potter paused on his stoop, and took ages to turn back around, his face just as tomato-red as it'd been since he'd woken up. And Draco smiled, leaning against the doorframe with his hands back in his pockets.

"Thanks… For, y'know… Not…" His words died in his mouth, so Draco decided to finish them for him.

"Taking advantage of you?" Potter wouldn't meet his gaze, but he nodded curtly. "Bloody hell, I know I've done some awful things in my life, but what do you take me for, Potter?"

His green eyes finally lifted back to his, head still ducked in shame and fists clenched at his sides. Something seemed to stew in those eyes, but he only turned and left without a word.

Draco stood in the doorway, watching him leave for a moment more until he was outside the Apparation wards, and then he disappeared. And he needed his cock in his fist immediately.


Harry Potter, you fucking idiot! He groaned as he Apparated directly into his bedroom and flopped down onto the bed. Of all the beds to end up in on a bender, it had to be his!

His cheeks still hadn't cooled as he recalled the look on that smug motherfucker's face as he stared at him. Stripped down to his underwear. Fucking hell, I think I'd feel it today if we had fucked, but he looked damn-near feral for it.

Just because he got so damn beautiful doesn't make him any less of a cunt!

He thought he'd have a heart attack as he recalled what he'd apparently said. He didn't know whether he'd been lying to taunt him or if he'd actually said those things… But groaned either way, because those sounded like the exact kinds of things he would say under the influence. Because like as not, Malfoy was downright stunning. Neck-breakingly so. And Harry wanted to jump out of his fucking window.

A familiar light flickered in his peripherals, and he groaned again as his glowing Loquorum drifted into his bedroom.

"What?" he demanded, as soon as he answered it.

"Don't you get tetchy with me, when you're the one who made the front page last night!"

Oh. Fuck. Harry could almost hear Ruby's impatient tapping of her shoe as she waited for him to face the consequences of his actions. As if waking up in bloody Malfoy's bed hadn't been consequence enough.

Flopping onto his back with a sigh, he Accio'd his copy of the Daily Prophet, which shimmied under the door and to his side. He braced himself with a deep breath before lifting the paper above him to see just how badly he'd fucked up.

"Shit!" he exclaimed as he sat up suddenly, and instantly regretted it as his head spun again. 'Ex-Death Eater Turned Model Cozying Up to Chosen One' was printed across the top, and a looping image of Harry swaying into a smiling Malfoy played out beneath it.

He truly wasn't sure if it'd been the alcohol or the misery, but up until his memories stopped, he had definitely been bitching to Malfoy. About the pressure he was under, the hectic schedule he wished would just allow him a break, and Malfoy had… Listened. That part, at least, had been the truth. But the way he was smiling at Harry in the moving photograph… The way he was swaying into him to speak closer to his ear…

"FUCK!"

"My sentiments exactly. You don't need me to tell you what this looks like, right?"

Ignoring Ruby, he quickly skimmed the article and found they'd already reached out to Malfoy and asked him a few questions. Thankfully, it seemed no one was aware where he'd spent the night, or what state he'd been in, but as he read, his eyes went wide.

'It's not so surprising. We have no reason to hate each other anymore, and though we'd never been close, we did go to school together. I'd call us friends now.' FRIENDS?

Harry's hands started trembling awfully, shaking the paper before his eyes until he couldn't read it anymore. So he threw it as far away from him as possible, instead trading the heels of his palms into his forehead as he bent over with yet another groan.

Draco, you're so gorgeous, Draco, I want you, touch me, you're so sexy.

"Ruby, I'm going dark for a few days. Don't try to reach me."

"Harry, wait! We have to do damage control for this, and if you go scarpering off now–"

The Loquorum went dark, drifting back to its stand as Harry resolutely dragged himself to his shower.