Draco sat at the desk in his office, his nameplate reading "Draco Malfoy, Head Healer." He sighed as he ran his hand through his hair and rested his head on his arm. He'd been filling out paperwork for the past two and a half hours, and was ready to take a break. He didn't move as there was a soft knock at his door.
"C'min," he groaned. Hermione walked in, looking completely flustered, with a rather large heap of folders in her hands.
"These are for you, Draco. Oh dear, you look positively dreadful!" She added, as she set the files on his desk and he looked up. His eyes were ringed with black, from lack of sleep, his lab coat abnormally wrinkled, and his long blonde hair brushing his chin instead of being slicked back.
"Thanks, Mione. More paperwork? Ugh, I swear they're trying to kill me. No one in this whole damn hospital has as much paperwork as I do." He looked over at her when she sat herself in the chair on the other side of his desk. He thought she had a rather wicked smile, and decided to ask why. She replied with a question of her own.
"Draco, when was the last time you went on a date? It's been a while since Lucas, right? Almost two years."
Draco could see the calculation in her eyes; he knew she was planning something. Knowing Hermione, she was attempting to set him up again. Draco heaved a great sigh.
"Yes… Why do you ask?"
Hermione's expression brightened considerably.
"Oh, I was just wondering if you'd like to come out to Pulse with us tonight. You see, there's this friend of mine-"
Draco cut her off rather abruptly.
"Look, Hermione, I love you. I know you're doing this for 'my own good,' but I'm just not ready for that." He rubbed his temples as he spoke, for a headache was blossoming behind his left eye.
Hermione heaved a sigh of her own, and stood to leave.
"Look, Draco. He's been really lonely, and could use a companion, someone to talk to other than Ron and me. And… and so do you. So, if you're interested, or even if you're not, seeing as how you'll be there anyway, we'll be at Pulse at 9 o'clock." She turned and made to leave when Draco called her back into his office.
"Hermione… He's not a troll is he?"
Hermione laughed, and assured him that her friend was, in fact, quite an attractive guy.
The bass was pumpin', the club was jumpin'. Red, blue, and yellow beams of light were floating around the floor. Harry was supposed to be meeting Hermione and Ron there, but he'd yet to locate them within the giant mass of gyrating bodies on the dance floor.
"Oi, Harry! Over here, mate!" Ron shouted, as he made his way towards the brunette. Harry followed his friend of ten years around the dance floor as he made his way towards his wife. Hermione was wearing a rather skimpy black dress and heals, and Ron was in his typical Muggle jeans and a raggedy tee-shirt. Harry felt mildly overdressed, in his forest green button down and his black dickies.
"Harry! I'm so happy you could make it! How've you been?" Hermione was just excited to see him as she's ever been, a fact Harry was glad of.
"I'm good, Mione! How about you?" Harry replied sincerely.
"Good, good…" She answered, seemingly distracted as she peered around her husband's shoulder. "Oh, good! Ron, he's here!" Hermione's excitement level went up about six notches.
"Who's here? Mione?" Ron answered instead.
"Harry, mate, remember that we love you, okay?"
"Ron, what's going-" Harry was cut off by a cool, unexpressive yet familiar voice coming from behind him.
"Merlin Hermione. Please tell me you're joking." Harry immediately turned around and was met by a sight that nearly made him melt on the spot. Right in front of him in an almost metallic grey shirt and black Muggle skinny jeans stood the one and only Draco Abraxas Malfoy.
"Malfoy? Hermione, why is Malfoy here?" Harry questioned one of his oldest
friends, thoroughly confused.
"Erm… You see, Harry… Well…" Draco was tired of Hermione beating around the bush and not answering the question.
"Hermione here thought I was lonely and could use a date. Apparently, she perceived you to be the perfect choice." The emotions Draco saw in Harry's eyes seemed to range from doubt to humor and from anger to lust. The mix severely amused the blonde.
"…Oh," was all Harry could manage past his suddenly dry throat. He coughed, and said, "I think I need a drink," and walked away.
"Well that was just fan-fucking-tastic Hermione, thanks for the awesome evening. I'll be heading back to the Manor now, if you don't mind." Hermione grabbed the blonde's arm as he turned to leave.
"Draco wait! Just… Just go talk to him. Ask him to dance. He loves to dance." Draco turned to look at Hermione, and saw an almost pleading expression on her face.
"Fine," he said, and walked over to the bar.
"Harry." Harry twisted to see the same sexy yet undesired blonde standing behind him, leaning in close so as to be heard.
"What do you want, Malfoy? I'm kind of busy."
"Yeah, drinking yourself under the table. Before you get too sloshed to move, come dance with me." Harry nearly toppled off his stool at the request. Strike that, demand.
"Why in hell would I dance with you, Malfoy?" Draco blanched at the tone of Harry's voice, almost as if Harry still hated him.
"Because you love to dance. I've changed, Harry. I'm not the same arrogant prick you knew in school. Just ask Mione. She and I get on perfectly well." Harry seemed to consider his words carefully, before holding out his hand to Draco.
"Let's dance then." Draco grabbed Harry's hand, spun on the spot and led him to the direct center of the dance floor.
Ugh, Harry thought, what happened last night? His head felt like it had expanded four times it's original size, and was throbbing maddeningly. He reached for his glasses on the bedside table, but his land landed on a note instead.
Potter, it read.
Don't worry, nothing happened. You simply drank too much at the club last night, so I brought you home to sleep it off.
Well, that's weird, Harry thought. He grabbed his glasses, unceremoniously shoved them on his face, and walked into the kitchen to make some tea. He spotted Malfoy sitting at the table, a cup of tea in one hand, the Daily Profit in the other. Harry cleared his throat.
"Erm… Good morning, Malfoy."
"Good morning, Potter. I trust you slept well." Malfoy didn't even bother looking up from the paper.
"Erm… yeah, I suppose. I can't really remember…. Well, I suppose I should erm… Thank you…. For bringing me home last night. So erm… Well, thanks." Harry was staring at the floor by this point, his cheeks heated from embarrassment. He meant for that to sound like a real thank you, that's just not how it came out. He sounded like a bumbling idiot.
"No worries, Potter." Malfoy still didn't bother to look up. "By the way, that couch in your study is absolutely horrid on one's back. You should replace it." Harry finally stopped looking at the floor, and found Malfoy staring at him with the most peculiar look in his eyes.
"The couch in the study isn't meant for one to sleep on, Malfoy. It's meant to sit upon. Why were you sleeping there in the first place?"
"Well, I could hardly leave you here by yourself. You were too far gone to do anything for yourself, what if you got sick? Hermione would slaughter me if I'd left you," Malfoy stated, as if it were by far the most obvious thing in the world.
"Oh… Okay then…" Harry went back to looking at the floor.
"Sit down, Potter, and stop staring at the floor. There's a cup of tea under Stasis, should you want it. I must be going to the office. It was… Pleasant enough to see you again." And with that, Malfoy bowed out and left Harry to his own thoughts.
Once again, Draco was sat at his desk with his hand through his hair and his head on his arm. Only this time, there wasn't a mountain of paperwork for him to hide behind. Hermione came in, not even bothering to knock.
"So, how'd things go with Harry last night, eh Draco?" She waggled her eyebrows at him.
"It didn't, Hermione. We got back to his house, and he passed out on the bed. The only thing he managed to say to me was 'stay.' So I slept on the couch in the study. He doesn't remember any of it." Becoming a habit for the morning, Draco didn't bother to look up to see the disappointment on Hermione's face.
"Draco, you really like him, don't you?"
"Does it matter? He doesn't like me that way. There's nothing I could do about it." Draco sat up. "Anyways, I really need to get back to work. I trust you brought me a mountain load of paperwork?" Hermione shook her head.
"Not this time. You've got a patient." And I've got a plan, she added silently.
Harry was sitting across from Kingsley in the Minister's office. Kingsley looked far from happy.
"Let me get this straight, Harry. You're not going to become an Auror, even though you've already gone through the training?" Harry shook his head.
"No, sir. After going through the training, I decided that being an Auror wasn't for me. I did the fighting evil thing. I lost too many people because of it. I can't do it any more."
"So what are you going to do? Become a frickin Pastry Chef?"
"I don't know yet, sir. But I do know that being an Auror is not what I want. I'll let you know when I figure it out. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go talk to Ron. Good to see you again, Kings. My house for dinner this Friday, okay?" And with that, Harry walked out of the office and down the hall to the Auror cubicles.
Ron sat dumbfounded as Harry explained to him what happened this morning.
"So, Harry… You're saying that you might actually… like… Malfoy?" He hadn't really expected Hermione's plan to work.
"I don't know Ron. All I know is he took me home because I was drunk, stayed the night incase I got sick, and made me tea this morning. But it doesn't matter. I mean, he couldn't possibly like me back. He barely even looked at me this morning. And everything he said to me made me feel like I was retarded for missing the most obvious thing in the world." Talk about missing the obvious, Ron thought to himself.
"Harry, mate, why don't you come over for dinner tonight. Hermione's making lasagna."
"Yeah, alright. See you tonight, Ron." As soon as Harry walked out the door, Ron went to the fireplace to call his wife.
"No, Hermione, I really don't have time for that. I need to figure out what the hell happened to my patient."
"Well that's just too bad, because you're going to come anyways!"
"Hermione! I don't have time to come!"
"Well that just sucks. You're coming, and you're coming right now." Harry was slightly confused as he stood outside Hermione's office. He took a risk and opened the door slightly, calling out Hermione's name as he did so.
"Oh, Harry, I'm glad you're here. Ron told me you're coming to dinner tonight." Hermione looked slightly flushed and Draco was standing in the corner, staring a hole through the floor.
"Yeah… Erm, Hermione, what was going on in here? Do I really want to know?" Hermione laughed, as she just realized what it might have sounded like to an outsider.
"Harry, darling, I was just telling Draco that he was going to come to dinner as well."
"Oh, okay then. Well, are you ready to go? Ron wanted to go pick up some wine or flowers or something, I don't even know. He asked me to come pick you up."
"Sure, sure, let me just grab my purse and some paperwork… And Draco, of course. Come along, darling." Draco turned his glare to Hermione. "Oh don't look at me like that, you knew all along that you'd end up coming with us." Draco just shrugged, grabbed his coat, and the three of them walked to the fireplace to floo home.
Once again, Harry might have had a little too much to drink. The entire night, all Harry could think of was how beautiful Draco looked, how his hair practically glowed in the dim lighting in the dining room, how his laugh resounded through the whole house, and how it sent shivers down Harry's spine. But most of all, Harry thought of Draco's pink, plush, kiss me lips and for a while, that's all Harry wanted to do. And that's when he decided that he'd had enough to drink.
Draco, on the other hand, couldn't stop drinking. When he was sober, he thought of nothing but Harry. The way his hair looked oh so soft, and how he just wanted to run his hands through it. The way his eyes widened comically behind his coke bottle glasses every time he caught Draco looking at him. The way every time Draco caught Harry looking at him, Harry was licking his lips like Draco was something to eat. He felt a tightening in his trousers; therefore, he kept drinking in hopes to forget everything.
Hermione glanced at the clock, and gasped. "Oh my, it's getting late! You two had better hurry on home. Thank you for coming over!" She walked the two of them to the front porch and left them to… what ever it was she thought they might end up doing.
As soon as Hermione's arm left his, however, Draco stumbled forward into Harry.
"Oh my, I'm slow… sho… Shorry, Potler. I'll just erm... head home how. Erm, now. Not how. How isn't the word I meant…"
"Draco, you're sloshed. There's no way you can Apparate yourself home without splinching yourself."
"Are you offering to take me home, then, Harry?" And with that, Draco slanted his lips over Harry's and started what could be described as the best kiss Harry ever had. Draco nibbled on Harry's bottom lip, and then swiped his tongue across it. Harry acquiesced, opening his mouth to let Draco in. Draco swept his tongue across every surface of Harry's mouth, almost like trying to memorize it. Harry sucked on the blonde's tongue for a minute, before biting hard enough on Draco's lip to draw blood. Draco pulled away.
"Bloody hell, Potter, what was that for?"
"We're not going to do this on Hermione's front porch." And with that, Harry Apparated them straight into his bedroom. The second their feet his the floor, Harry's mouth was back on Draco's, thus beginning a battle of dominance of which neither of them really cared who won. Draco grabbed Harry's hips and pulled him closer than close, grinding their hips together. Harry gasped into the kiss, and once again Draco slipped into Harry's mouth. They grinded together until it was all Harry could do not to come, so he stopped.
"Not... Not like… this…" He panted, and with a wave of his wand, they were both completely starkers. Harry gasped. On his right side, over his ribs, Draco had a giant tattoo of a lightning bolt. Draco looked up at him, and said, "You saved my life. You had a piece of me always with you. I needed a piece of you, too." With that, Harry plundered into Draco's mouth and gyrated their hips together, causing them both to gasp. If Harry thought rubbing against Draco through jeans felt good, he was sadly mistaken, because it felt nothing like rubbing against Draco without any constricting materials between them. Harry waved his wand again, and with a slickened hand, began to stroke Draco's cock. Draco stilled Harry's hand, how ever, and sank onto his knees. Before Harry could say anything, Draco took all of Harry's cock into his mouth, causing Harry to scream in pleasure.
"Oh fuck… Oh dear God…" Draco bobbed his head, pausing every now and then to suck only on the head, before moaning around Harry as Draco stroked himself. "Oh fuck… Oh God, oh DRACO!" Harry screamed as he came, shooting thick ropes of come down Draco's throat, pulling Draco's hair harshly, even though he couldn't remember putting his hands on Draco's head.
Draco, still not having come yet, kissed Harry as he pushed him backwards onto the bed. As soon as he hit she mattress, Harry opened his legs to let Draco between them.
"Fuck me, Draco. Fuck me until I can't walk." So Draco shoved in. No preparation or anything. "OH FUCK!" They both screamed. Harry, because of the pain, Draco, because of Harry's tightness. Draco didn't wait for Harry to get used to him. He immediately pulled all the way out to the tip, and plunged back in. Every time Draco moved it felt better and better for Harry, until Draco hit that "OH FUCKING GODS, DRACO!" spot, making Harry see stars. Draco stopped, realigned himself, and kept going, hitting that spot with every single thrust. Harry started fisting himself furiously, and suddenly came, harder than he ever had before, all over his and Draco's chests. Harry's muscles clenched around Draco, pulling the orgasm from Draco as well. Draco kept pumping until he was completely empty, and collapsed on Harry, still sheathed inside.
"Well… erm… That was certainly…"
"Still as literate as ever, Harry." Draco silenced Harry with a kiss, moaned as he pulled out of Harry's tight arse, pulled Harry into his arms, and fell asleep.
"I was only trying to say that was the most amazing thing I've ever done…. You prat." Harry fingered the tattoo on Draco's side, and fell asleep as well.
Hermione smiled from her place outside the door. It seemed as if one of her plans finally worked.