Disclaimer:

Again, just want to mention that this is based on Fake! as well as Harry Potter and will contain similar situations and even near-direct quotes, which have been marked with asterisks* and then cited at the end of each chapter.

Tequila Sunrise
Chapter Two: Stay the Night

The clatter of the ceiling fan only made Harry's intense headache worse as he sat behind his and Draco's desk looking over a stack of new material on a crime ring dealing in possessed Muggle items - another task left to him by Draco. It seemed that Draco's new found hobby, instead of teasing and leading on poor Seamus daily, was sending Harry on stupid missions around the level and having him sort out incredible amounts of dull, tedious paperwork. The telltale slamming of the office door made Harry's headache worsen two-fold: once for the intensity of the sound, and twice because he knew it was Draco who'd entered.

"Potter. Out," the tall blonde drawled as he flopped down onto a cream-colored sofa against the far wall, opposite the desk, and draped an arm over his eyes. Harry sighed loudly, stood, slamming his hands down onto the wooded desk, and started intently at Malfoy. The blonde lifted his arm from his face and returned Harry's powerful gaze. "Yes?" he asked coolly, raising an eyebrow at the dark haired man behind the desk.

Harry sighed and looked down, running a hand through his hair and turned to leave the room. The sound of Draco's voice however, stopped Harry in his tracks. "Coffee," he said. Harry only looked back in time to see Draco putting his arms back over his face. With a shake of his head, Harry fought off the urge to jump on Draco and beat him senseless - a feeling he'd been suppressing since the day he formally met Malfoy - and turned to leave, snatching Draco's coffee cup as he left, and slamming the door behind him. If doors could speak, their office door would be screaming in bloodcurdling pain for the thousands of times it'd been slammed ruthlessly.

As soon as he was gone, Draco dropped the arm that had been covering his face down so his fingers grazed the floor. He sighed loudly to himself as he ran his fingers over the rough carpeting. "You're so bitter,? he thought, "You're always so bitter to me, Harry Potter. When's the last time I saw you smile - smile at me? Have you ever? I wish you would, just once. You're smile is so. . . hot."

-------

The rustle of papers turning and the scratching of quills carried through the air in Harry and Draco's office late into the night, and well past suppertime, only interrupted by, of course, the occasional outburst of screams. Harry had finally come to the conclusion that whoever it was who made the decision to make him and Malfoy partners was officially insane.

"Well, that's the end of it," Draco said, interrupting Harry's train of thought as he placed the last sheet of parchment onto the stack of "out" work. "What time is it?" he asked, lifting his gaze from the finished work.

Lifting his head from the pillow on the couch, Harry pulled back his sleeve a bit and checked his watch. "Just past eleven," Harry said quietly before dropping his arm back down and sighing. Exhausted was too light a word to describe how run down Harry was feeling. It seemed that the fighting he and Draco constantly were engaging in was only increasing, along with the hours they'd have to put in at work to finish everything. And Ron was worrying too. He reminded Harry somewhat of a paranoid mother or wife -- only not quite a woman. Whenever Harry worked late, Ron would be up and waiting with a lecture ready to fire off. Some nights, Harry half expected to see Ron in a pink bathrobe and slippers with curlers in his hair. And that was quite horrifying.

"Come on then, unless you want to sleep here," Draco said, taking Harry's coat off the peg on the wall, and tossing it at Harry. The dark haired man made no attempt to catch the tan jacket though, and simply let it drop over him. With a distressed huff, Draco crossed the room and pulled the jacket off Harry. "Look, Potter, either stay here or get your coat on and leave!"

Snatching his jacket back, Harry gritted his teeth, not wanting to start another ruckus. "I'll stay here, then, thanks."

Draco settled down onto the sofa near Harry's feet, despite the odd look from his partner. "Then, I'll just have to stay here with you," the blonde said, running a hand casually through his hair.

"You are impossible!" Harry said loudly, sitting up and pulling on his jacket. But, Draco only laughed as his partner struggled to get into his jacket.

"I know, I know. Come on," he said, standing and offering his hand to Harry, who took it, but not before giving Draco a second off look. "What?" Draco inquired as he helped Harry up.

"You're so weird, Malfoy," Harry said, shaking his head and walking to the door.

Draco sighed. "Now, Potter, we both know some traits, like your inability to understand more complex beings, such as myself, are simply inborn. Don't question them. Still coming for dinner?"

Harry scoffed and shook his head. "Malfoy! It's nearly midnight, there's no time for dinner."

"Don't be silly, Potter. There's always time for dinner." He grinned and shrugged his shoulders as he nudged Harry out of the way, opening the door himself. "You first, I insist."

-------

Draco's flat was quite impressive -- and quite clean. At least, it was cleaner than Harry could have imagined it to be. Lavishly decorated in maroon and shades of gold, the whole environment made Harry remember his Hogwarts years. "Nice colors, Malfoy," he said, standing with a hand on one hip in the small entryway. Draco just turned around and gave Harry a 'don't ask' glare.

As Draco lead Harry into the kitchen area, the lavish furniture lessened, and more conservative, practical furniture took its place. Harry mimed Draco when the blonde draped his coat over the back of a chair.

"Take a seat," Draco said as he walked over to the icebox and pulled out a few things. "Or have a look around while I get this started." Despite his invitation to snoop around Draco's more-than-humble flat, Harry chose to remain in the kitchen, making many failed attempts to assist Draco with the cooking. He, however, only managed to snag a few olives from the salad, and received a cold glare from Draco in exchange.

Draco's cooking was decent enough, but Harry didn't think he could live off it. Though, in comparison to what happened last time Harry tried to cook, Draco's meal was a culinary delight.

The pair remained virtually silent through dinner, with the exception of a small comment every few minutes. It was expected though, since they had very little in common, but at least they were not fighting. Harry remembered all those meals back in Hogwarts when Draco and his cronies would saunter over to the Gryffindor table to give Harry and Co. trouble. Then it hit him.

"Ron!" Harry said suddenly, standing up and grabbing his jacket. "I've--I've got to go! Ron is going to be worried sick that I'm not home yet!"

Draco raised an eyebrow at Harry and sighed. "Don't wet yourself now, Potter. Just give him a ring."

"Give him a ring?" Harry asked, as though he'd never heard of such a thing before.

The blonde stared at Harry a few seconds longer before breaking into a fit of laughter. "Potter! You are amusing! For someone who grew up in a Muggle home, you know so little of Muggle things," he said, pausing to take deep breaths and hold back more laughter. "Ring him, Potter. You know, use the telephone." Malfoy pointed to a phone mounted to the wall on the opposite side of the room.

"Well, I didn't think you'd have a telephone, Malfoy! What with your undying love for Muggles and all." The sarcasm in Harry's voice was more than obvious.

"Ah, well," Draco began quietly, "the border between love and hate is somewhat thin these days, isn't it?"

Harry had never quite heard Ron so furious as he was when Harry called, and the image of Ron in that pink robe and slippers with curlers in yelling into the phone infiltrated his brain, leaving the dark haired man quite unsettled, and afraid to go home.

After trying -- and failing -- to help Malfoy clean up the dishes, Harry pulled his jacket on. With a quick look at his watch, he sighed, wondering if Hermione was still awake at quarter after one in the morning. And if not, if she would be willing to let him stay over if he were to wake her up at such an ungodly hour.

"What are you doing?" Draco asked, looking away from the dishes and over at Harry who was all but ready to leave.

"I'm going to see if I can stay at Hermione's place tonight -- Ron needs to cool off before I try going home."

"But," Draco began, almost running a soap covered hand through his hair before catching himself and lowering it back to the water in the sink, "you're already here. Why don't you stay?"

-------

Harry stood looking out a sliding glass door that leas to a small balcony wrapped in a fleece throw blanket and wearing a pair of pajamas that would either be too big or too small, depending on what day it was. Yes, height was, as petty as it seems, something the two partners would fight over, as they fought over everything that is debatable. The solution, though, ridiculous, had been Harry's own idea. On Monday and Tuesday, Harry would be taller than Draco, and on Thursday and Friday, Draco would be the taller of the two. Wednesdays and weekends were every-other. And it being a Thursday night, the pajamas were a bit too bit on Harry -- or so the deal would say. Truthfully, though, Draco did stand a few centimeters above Harry, even on Mondays and Tuesdays and every other Wednesday. And Harry was well aware of this.

But, to avoid another fight over nothing, Harry worse the pajama bottoms extra-low on his hips so they at least looked a little bigger than they were. It was please Malfoy, if nothing else.

"Gonna stare out at London all night?" Draco asked, walking up behind Harry. "Come on, there's a better view in here." The blonde led Harry through the kitchen and into the small bedroom. Another set of sliding glass doors lead to a second balcony there against the far wall. Leading Harry over, Draco unlocked the door and stepped out onto the balcony, a cool night breeze nipping at his pale cheeks.

"Looks peaceful, doesn't it?" Harry asked, leaning on the railing.

"Sure does," Draco replied quietly. He walked over and stood beside Harry, wondering just what was going through his mind. A smile crept onto his lips, quite without his consent, and he found himself gazing longingly at his partner.

Harry could feel Draco's gaze upon him, and it made him feel uneasy -- sort of like a mouse cornered by an alley cat, only not quite so 'I'm going to eat you' threatening. "Malfoy, tell me," he said, quickly turning and taking a small step back from the railing. "What's it like to have grown up with a family?" The question was out of place, and out of order, for sure, but it certainly did what Harry intended -- it made Draco take a few steps back and change his expression.

"What?" he asked, "You've got to be kidding me, Potter!" He furrowed his eyebrows in what almost seemed like disappointment. "Anyone could tell my family wasn't exactly. . . family."

"It's more that what I ever had," Harry said with a half smile. "I didn't have parents, you know. And Sirius was lost before I even had my chance to live with him. I spent seventeen years of my life living with people who hated me -- maybe even more than you did."

"I never hated you, Potter," Draco said quietly. "Actually, you rather acted like you hated me, I just returned the favor. But now we don't have to worry about our families loving or hating us. We can love each other. You'll love me, right Potter?"* Draco grinned and leaned closer to his partner as Harry turned a horribly ghastly shade of pale.

"W-what?" Harry stammered, backing up until his back hit the railing.

Draco laughed and tweaked Harry's nose gently. "Dork," he said, "don't be so serious, alright?"* The blonde stood tall and smiled, beaming. "Well then, partner, lets turn in. It's getting quite late."

"Hey, uh. . . Draco. . . wait"

Harry watched was Draco walked back into the bedroom, leaving the door open behind him. "I wonder if Draco likes guys," he thought to himself, debating whether or not he should sleep on the balcony. "I know he hasn't had a girlfriend since sixth year, and he hasn't exactly been trying hard to get one. But, he never acts like this in the office. Is he really like this? Which Draco is just an act? I don't know. I just don't know anything about him at all, really. I don't know, but it seems deeper than he played off. Then again, I better not obsess over his sexual orientation or I might have to admit things to myself."*

Trying his best to shake away the thoughts, Harry followed Draco into the bedroom, sliding the door shut and locking it before pulling the curtain closed and finding his way through the darkness to Draco's bed.

"Sweet dreams, Harry. . ."

*1 - "But you'll love me, won't you?" -- Fake! vol. 1, page 23, spoken by Dee.
*2 - "Dork! It's a joke idiot. Don't take everything so seriously." -- Fake! vol. 1, page 23 spoken by Dee.
*3 - "I wonder if Dee likes guys? It doesn't seem like he has a girl. But I just don't know about him. I don't know anything about him. But what he said just now, it seemed deeper than he played off. On the other hand, I better stop obsessing over his sexuality or I'm going to have to finally admit some stuff about myself." -- Fake! vol. 1, page 24, thought by Ryo.

A/N - Look, I fixed my messed up Italics! Yay!

And, I wanted to thank L33T PHR33K for pointing out to me that I forgot my Fake! disclaimers. Actually, yes, this is based on Fake! thought it is not an HP versions (might say it's inspired by Fake! and will have some of the same situations.) And I was almost positive I said so in my disclaimer, but upon checking it again saw it wasn't there! I suppose I was remembering my fictionalley disclaimer addition. I've re-uploaded new files for chapters one and two with disclaimers at the top of each and will keep them there from now on.

Please, if anyone else spots something wrong, let me know!

Luv Rohir Neph