Disclaimer: Harry Potter is copyrighted to J. K. Rowling. The characters in this story belong to her.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Draco would never admit it, but life with the Boy Who Lived wasn't nearly as insufferable as he would have thought. After meeting the Weasel and the Mudblood, who could have predicted that Potter would have such decent taste in friends? And who could have guessed that, when he wasn't off saving the world, Potter actually knew how to have a good time?

Draco was starting to feel rather bad about enjoying himself. If Draco liked it here, then that meant Potter was doing something nice for him- doing him a favor, you could say. And Draco Malfoy did not accept favors. He had no intention of being indebted to anyone. Which is exactly why Draco was wearing a lacy pink strawberry-print apron.

For the last week, Draco had watched as his host cooked (almost inedible) dinner on the muggle stove. Tonight Draco would cook, and he would make a fabulous meal. He'd create a cuisine masterpiece so good that Potter would swear himself eternally in Draco's debt. Then they would be even.

"Uh, Malfoy? Why the hell are you wearing that apron?"

"It's the only one I could find," the blond replied with a glare. He hadn't been too happy to realize his host had nothing more manly than this. "No wonder people think you're gay."

Potter blushed. Interesting.

"...Are you?"

"Am I what?"

"You know. Gay."

"You're the one wearing the lacy pink apron."

Draco was pained. "It's so things don't spill on my clothes, Potter. That's what aprons are for."

Emerald eyes looked blankly back at Draco as though trying to comprehend some impossible mystery.

"I'm cooking dinner," Draco clarified. "We'll eat in a few minutes, and after that Ronny's coming and he's bring some nice wine."

"Oh. But I never drink."

"Yeah, Ronny told me. But I assured him you drink now."

Potter's eyes narrowed angrily. "Well you'll just have to assure him I don't."

"Can't," Draco said distractedly as he carefully measured sugar and flour into a large bowl.

"What do you mean, 'can't'?" Potter asked irritably as he grabbed Draco's arm to attract the blond's attention.

Uh oh. Stupid Potter was getting all upset about nothing. He'd better calm down before he ruined Draco's plan to actually do something nice.

"I mean, he asked about our first date, and I told him all about sitting on the beach at night, nibbling on ladyfingers and delicately sipping champagne. It was so romantic, your opinions on alcohol were changed forever."

Potter let out a furious grunt. "Fine. I can't very well say I don't drink after you've told Ronny all about the romantic champagne that changed my life."

"That's the spirit!" Draco exclaim encouragingly. "Now let's eat while we wait for the cake to finish."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"More wine, Po- Harry?" Draco asked with a malicious smile. He felt the scrumptious dinner had taken him out of his benefactor's debt. That meant he was once again free to annoy the hell out of his rival.

Potter giggled drunkenly and held out his glass. Draco had never seen anyone get drunk so fast on so little. He himself had drank almost three times as much as Potter and was completely sober. He almost kept forgetting to call his host "Harry," but was otherwise perfectly sober.

"Perfectly sober," he affirmed to himself.

Potter – Harry, for tonight – giggled again, and Draco realized he had spoken his thoughts out loud.

"Oops."

Ronny joined in the laughing, spilling part of his drink down his shirt. Harry giggled again, and fell off the couch. He landed on the floor next to Draco.

Why the hell am I on the floor? Draco wondered, noticing his seat for the first time. Perhaps he was a little drunk after all.

"You guys are a cute couple," Ronny commented.

Draco snorted, amused. Ronny shot him a puzzled look.

Shit. That was suspicious.

"Thank you," Draco said quickly. "I think so too."

But now Harry laughed in amusement. Ronny still seemed dubious.

"I really like Harry," Draco rushed to tell him. "I like dating him."

Was Ronny buying this?

"I like kissing him," Draco added for good measure. "And sex."

Good. That was very convincing.

Draco started to relax, but Harry stupidly began to giggle again.

"Kissing. And sex." Harry tittered with silent laugher. "We're sleeping in the same bed. That means sex."

Dammit. I never should have let that idiot lightweight Gryffindor drink. Draco silently cursed himself.

"I've never seen you kiss," Ronny observed.

Draco bristled at the implication. Well, there was only one thing to do. Curling one hand around Harry's head, he pushed their lips together quickly.

"That was your own fault, Harry," he muttered quietly before letting go.

Finally, finally, Harry's obnoxious little giggles silenced. He stared incredulously at Draco, mouth gaping open in surprise.

"I don't think he liked it," Ronny snickered.

"But I'm-" Harry began before Draco pulled him roughly into another kiss.

"Keep your mouth shut and I won't have to do that again," he hissed so only Harry could hear.

Harry's brow wrinkled nervously and he seemed perturbed.

"I know why he doesn't like it," Ronny announced sagely. "You're too rough. Be gentle, go slow. Use your tongue."

Some part of Draco was mildly disgusted by Ronny's apparently voyeuristic intentions. But the larger part of him just wanted to save his honor by proving what a fabulous kisser he truly was.

"Oh, I'll use tongue," he proclaimed, to Ronny's delight and Harry's discomfort.

Twisting his hands gently in Harry's dark locks, Draco leaned forward. Lips connected softly and delicately. Draco allowed his tongue to slither forward and ever so gently protrude into Harry's mouth. He stroked Harry's tongue with his own. Soon, he felt Harry relax into the kiss and begin to shyly move his own tongue against Draco's. After a few seconds more, Draco pulled back slowly.

Harry was flushed, whether with passion or embarrassment Draco didn't know. But it didn't matter because now both Ronny and Harry were fully aware of his kissing prowess. No one could possibly say Harry hadn't enjoyed that kiss.

"He liked that one, don't you think?"

Ronny giggled, and Harry looked away awkwardly.

"Did you like it, Harry?" Ronny asked knowingly.

Harry didn't respond immediately, and Draco was afraid he might say "no." That would definitely make Ronny suspicious again.

"Well I-" Harry finally began.

Idiot. Harry, don't blow this.

"Of course he did," Draco declared, grabbing Harry's hand and pulling him up onto his feet. He had to get his drunken companion out of the room before Harry revealed something he shouldn't.

"Where are you going?" Ronny demanded.

Draco could think of only respond. "After a kiss like that? To our bedroom, of course."

Harry watched as his blond companion shut the door behind them and glared maliciously. Apparently Harry had done something wrong.

"I'm sorry," Harry said drunkenly. Maybe he hadn't been supposed to kiss Draco back?

The Slytherin only glared.

"Look, Drake- I mean, Draco- no, yes..." Harry trailed off in confusion. "I forget what to call you," he offered lamely.

"Draco Malfoy," the blond offered.

"Draco," Harry latched onto the name with relief. "What did I do."

"You almost let him know we aren't actually together!" Draco accused.

"I don't remember that," Harry said softly.

Was he too drunk to remember what he'd done or was Draco so drunk he was making things up?

"Well you did!" Draco snapped.

Harry felt bad. Draco had made him feel very good with that nice kiss earlier, and now he had done something to hurt him.

"I'm sorry," he said miserably. "Tell me how to make it better, and I'll do it."

"It's fine. I fixed it," Draco said, calming a little. "I told him we came in here to have sex."

"Okay," Harry said, and pulled his pants down.

Draco gawked at Harry. He seemed confused. Oh. Harry knew why. He pulled his shirt off too.

"Harry- you know you're standing there in nothing but your boxers."

Boxers. Those must be the problem. And Harry removed them too.

"Better?" he asked hopefully.

"Harry, what are you doing?" Draco questioned in a strangled voice.

Harry decided Draco must be very drunk indeed to have forgotten so quickly.

"We're having sex, remember?" Harry asked.

Draco spluttered. "We are?"

"You said it would fix things with Ronny."

"But. No. I didn't. I meant. Well." Draco stammered pointless.

Harry was feeling very bad. Draco had been so nice to him tonight, even made him dinner. And now Harry had let him down, and this wasn't going to be enough to fix it.
Harry looked like he was about to cry.

He must feel stupid being naked, Draco thought. He took off his own shirt to make Harry feel better.

"Don't cry, Harry. Everything's going to be fine."

"We're having sex?" Harry asked hopefully.

"We don't actually have to sleep together, you know. I just told Ronny that so we could get away. As long as he thinks we're fooling around, he won't know the truth."

"But what if he finds out we're not?" Harry asked in a small, scared voice.

Draco could tell Harry was drunk to the point of total irrationality. He felt responsible; he'd been pouring the drinks after all.

The blond gently wrapped his arms around Harry in a comforting hug. "He won't find out," he promised.

"But the lock is broken," Harry protested. "What if he sees?"

Hmmm. Harry did have a point.

The dark haired boy slipped his hands gently into Draco's hair and tugged him into a soft kiss. One hand found its way to Draco's chest where it rubbed over him in slow, tantalizing circles.

Harry definitely had a point.

Draco reluctantly pulled away from the kiss. "You're right," he said. "There's no way out of it. We need to have sex."

Harry happily tugged Draco's pants down before steering them both onto the waiting bed.