A/N: Hey y'all! This was written for Haley, via Gift Tag. I hope you like it, love. :)
Demonology Task 2: Write about someone giving in to temptation.
Word Count: 995
WARNINGS: Alcoholism
Note: There… was a lot of freedom with the hurt/comfort prompt. Here's to hoping I didn't make it too angsty. *laughs nervously*
Thanks to Bex and Lizzy for betaing!
Enjoy!
He knew exactly where Percy kept the alcohol. He knew that his partner wouldn't be home for hours. He knew that there was time for a glass and time to hide the evidence.
He knew that Percy would be disappointed if he caved.
Draco put his head in his hands and groaned. He'd promised Percy—he'd promised himself—that he was going to stop drinking… but there was such a large part of him that wanted to be numb again.
Sober, he had to deal with stares and whispers and fear. All of that just… faded away after a few shots. And this was one of those days that wouldn't let Draco see past his mistakes. The Dark Mark burned on his arm.
"Bloody hell," Draco whispered, pressing the heels of his hands against his eyes. His breathing was labored as he struggled with himself, but in the end—in the end he raised his wand and summoned the bottle. It was in his hand within minutes.
With another flick of his wand, Draco summoned a glass. He'd have one glass of wine, he reasoned, maybe two. Just enough to take the edge off.
He knew he was lying to himself, but as he knocked back a glass, he didn't much care.
Sunlight streamed through the window and burned Draco's eyes. He screwed them shut once more and groaned into his pillow… and then wondered how he'd gotten into bed.
His grey eyes cracked open once more. He sat up as quickly as he could despite the pounding in his head and threw off the duvet. His stomach churned and rolled as he stood, and Draco barely made it to the toilet before emptying the contents of his stomach.
After he was finished, he sat back on his heels and shakily wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He closed his eyes, shivering, and took a moment to let the nausea pass. A couple seconds later—or maybe it was minutes, Draco wasn't sure—the bathroom door opened.
"Draco? Are you feeling okay?"
Draco sucked in a breath. "Percy," he croaked. Pieces were falling into place; his weakness the previous evening, Percy coming home to find him already drunk… Percy bringing him to bed.
Draco's face burned with shame. His lover came closer and put a hand on his shoulder, and Draco tried not to shrink away from it. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, wanting to speak but unable to find the words to do so.
"Hey." Percy's voice was soft. "Let's get you back in bed."
"I couldn't do it," Draco rasped. He was so angry with himself, so—so ashamed to even have the problem in the first place. "I'm sorry."
"This is part of recovery, Draco," Percy told him firmly. "You can't just flip a switch and stop. It takes time."
He knew that. It didn't stop him from being frustrated with himself every time he gave in, or from wishing that such a switch existed. But he just nodded and slumped against Percy, then let his partner lead him back into the bedroom.
Soon enough, Draco was tucked back into bed with a cup of tea and a hangover potion in his hands. Percy crawled into bed beside him; Draco couldn't look at him.
Minutes passed before Percy asked the inevitable question: "What brought it on?"
Draco released a shuddering breath and stared down at his tea. Thanks to the potion, his headache was receding, but he didn't want to focus on his boyfriend's face… he was afraid of what he'd find there. "I don't know. Nothing? I just wanted it." He breathed in deeply and forced himself to be honest. "I didn't like myself in that moment, and I just wanted it."
A hand snaked its way over the duvet and into Draco's grip. "Okay," Percy whispered simply. "It's okay, Draco. We're doing this together."
Draco turned, then, to face the older man. Percy's glasses sat crooked on his nose, just like Arthur's always did, and his blue eyes were full of love and concern. Draco let his head fall against the pillows, but didn't break eye contact. "Why are you still here?" he croaked. It was a question that nagged at him on bad days; he wasn't an easy person to have around, he knew.
Percy reached out a freckled hand and ran his fingers through Draco's blond hair. He smoothed the hair back and away from Draco's face. "I love you, you idiot. I'm not going to leave you just because things are difficult right now." There was a pause. "I've learned my lesson."
Draco winced, hating the fact that he'd reminded Percy of his worst mistake. He knew better than to try to comfort the Gryffindor, though; Percy didn't want his actions to be excused or defended. He just wanted to learn from them.
A shaky breath escaped Draco's chest. He wished he could let go of his own demons, but then, Percy had always been braver than he was.
"I hate seeing you like this," Percy admitted after a moment of silence. "I hate seeing you so miserable."
Not I hate it when you drink. Not I hate that you're so weak. Just an honest, simple answer.
"You make it better," he murmured. "You make it so much better."
Percy didn't respond; he just bent forwards to press a kiss to Draco's forehead. The Slytherin closed his eyes and allowed himself to lean back against his lover's chest. Percy's hand snaked around to rest on his ribcage.
"It's all right," he whispered. "Just breathe."
Draco obeyed. He sucked in slow, steady breaths until his hands stopped shaking. The memory of the previous evening was still painful, but knowing that Percy was going to stay here with him helped. It wasn't perfect, but it helped.
"I love you, too," Draco murmured.
Draco felt Percy's chest vibrate as he laughed. "I know," he said. "Believe me… I know."