Disclaimer: I do not own anything except an overactive imagination. JK Rowling and THE PUBLISHERS own them all.

Warnings: Mature sexual content, slash, bad language and a magic magic 8 ball.

Authors note: This was a challenge commissioned by Darkmorsmordreheart, who said "For this challenge, I would like to see what you can do with Harry and his need for a stable family of his own. I see Harry as having a tendency to ignore what he really wants - a point that you've touched upon in other stories - but I think it would be funny if Draco forced what Harry needed on him instead of the Chosen One himself having that epiphany."

I thought that had the potential to be freaking hilarious. So I did it.

Ask Again Later

Chapter one: Drunk sincerity

"And you-" Harry slurred, jabbing Draco in the chest with a finger. "You used to be a complete prat. Like, seriously. You were horrible."

"Yeah, well you-" Draco emphasised, trying to grab hold of the pointing finger and grabbing thin air around two inches right of his target. "Made me bleed. Everywhere. You ruined my shirt and my skin."

Harry scowled, his glasses lopsided on his face as he picked up his drink and took a mouthful, wincing at the strength of the whisky. "I said I was sorry, God."

"No, you never said, you mumbled." Draco said with the sort of dignity one could only achieve after tanking a bottle of rather expensive wine.

"I do not mumble," Harry argued, putting his drink down and folding his arms across his chest, ignoring the glance the barman sent his way. He and Draco were well known in here and the locals and staff gave them neither attention nor trouble and it was that fact that kept them coming in on most Friday nights. They usually drank a fair amount and subsequently ended up partaking in heated snogging sessions, illicit adventures in the toilets, or more often than not, arguments.

The barman grinned to himself as he restocked the shelves; this particular Friday night the pair had foregone groping and their bickering match was shaping up to be marvellously entertaining for everyone within earshot.

"Yes you do mumble. In your sleep," Draco said matter of factly, picking up his nearly empty wineglass from the bar and draining it. "Every night for four years, mumble mumble mumble mumble."

"What?" Harry said incredulously, hiccupping slightly. "It is not every night!"

Draco nodded vigorously. "It so is. I don't mind when you're having sex dreams and mumbling about me but when you're mumbling about paperwork and the office and shit, you drive me bat-crap crazy."

Harry's scowl deepened. "Fine, I'll sleep on the sofa then, if it's such a bad thing sharing a bed with me now. Or in the spare room, where it's cold. You know what, I'll just move out shall I, and you can have the whole mumble-less house to yourself and I'll not come back-"

"Prat," Draco interrupted, sighing as he wrapped an arm around Harry's neck, pulling him close so Harry's face ended up buried in the crook of his neck and the barstool that Harry was on tilted dangerously on two legs. Harry relaxed his body, curving his back, allowing the stool to right itself. He gave a sigh and looped his arms around Draco's waist as Draco pressed a kiss to his temple.

"You're a prat," Harry mumbled half-heartedly.

"Am not."


"Shut up, Potter," Draco said and Harry laughed drunkenly into his shoulder.

"I won't move out really," he said.

Draco smiled and kissed his forehead. "I know. You love me too much to move out. You'd miss me. And no sleeping on the sofa either."

Harry moved back clumsily, looking up at Draco with wide eyes. "I do. I love you," he said sincerely, reaching forwards to brush his fingers over Draco's lips.

Draco kissed Harry's fingertips and was rewarded with a smile from his other half; it was still so easy to make Harry smile like that and at moments like this he was honestly grateful that he still had the opportunities and abilities to do so.

I love you he mouthed back, reaching up to lace his fingers through Harry's, feeling thrills run through him as Harry's smile got wider.

"I know. You know what I would really, really love?" Harry whispered, twisting to face Draco properly and leaning forwards to breathe in his ear, grabbing the blondes knee with his free hand to stop himself falling face first into his lap. Draco raised an eyebrow, a slow smirk taking over from his previous smile.

"And what's that?" he asked, waiting for Harry's undoubtedly lewd suggestion. The memory of their last illicit adventure was still fresh in his mind: last Friday they had polished off a bottle of wine in less than thirty minutes and then Harry had dragged Draco into a toilet cubicle, barely locking the door before yanking his trousers down and roughly fingering him to climax. Draco definitely wouldn't object to a replay of that.

Harry pulled back a little, green eyes on Draco's grey ones, but didn't say anything. "Go on. Tell me," Draco coaxed, running his thumb over Harry's knuckles. "What would you love?"

"If me and you had a family."

Draco blinked.

"A proper one," Harry said with an earnest nod. "Me and you in a house with stairs and a garden and small children and a dog."

"You…you- but you said-" Draco began unsteadily, his alcohol soaked brain trying to register that Harry had really just said what he thought he said-

"I know," Harry said with a small, almost sad, smile. "It's OK though. Things are OK how they are."

"But you want…you really want a family?" Draco asked, feeling more and more disconcerted with every word.

"I want you," Harry whispered, his face leaning in closer to Draco's and the hand on his knee sliding up towards his crotch, loaded with promise and filthy intentions.

"Harry," Draco said impatiently as he caught the hand, stopping it in its tracks. "Focus."

"Mmm. Focus on your cock," Harry said, leaning in and pressing a hot open mouthed kiss to Draco's neck.

"No, tell me about- what did you mean you want a family? You always said you didn't want anything to change, that you were happy…with it just being the two of us-" Draco said with difficulty, tilting his head to the side to force Harry away from his tongue based assault on his neck.

"Yeah," Harry said, leaning back obediently and too quickly. Draco grabbed the front of his shirt with one hand to stop him falling backwards off of his stool. "You don't like kids."

"I hate kids." Draco confirmed, trying and failing to keep the suspicion from his voice.

"You don't like marriage."

"Waste of time." Draco said promptly and Harry nodded.

"You don't want a house with stairs."

Draco frowned. "We've got a perfectly good flat with perfectly good stairs."

Harry nodded again with another one of those small sad smiles that suddenly and inexplicably made Draco want to cry. "I know," he sighed and leant forwards, wrapping his arms around Draco's neck and burying his head under his chin. "I know," he mumbled. "S'OK. The way things are."

Draco rested a hand on Harry's back, slowly stroking up and down, his own drunken haze not stopping him from now knowing exactly what Harry had meant.

When they had first got together four years ago after an intervention (Draco still called it interfering) by Hermione and Pansy, Draco had known all about Harry's desire to have his own family. But the moment Draco had voiced his own reservations, Harry had apparently willingly abandoned the idea and hadn't mentioned it since. Draco knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that they had been beyond happy as just the two of them, and Harry hadn't sulked, or been sad, or given Draco any indication that he felt something was missing.

Until now that was. Under the influence of a lot of whisky and wearing a smile that told Draco that Harry would forfeit all of those hidden desires, just for him.

"Well, fuck," Draco said moodily. Reaching out with his free hand, he picked up Harry's half full tumbler of whisky and necked it in one, before putting the glass back down on the bar and placing his hand with his other on Harry's back.

Breathing out deeply, he ran his hands up and down Harry's spine under his shirt, feeling how warm the skin was under his hands. He pressed a kiss to the top of Harry's head, drawing in the comforting and familiar scent of his hair as Harry nodded sleepily against his throat, his hair tickling Draco's chin.

Draco shut his eyes, inwardly cursing.

Fucking drunk sincerity.


And huge thanks go to Xana-Belle who is clearly insane because she is still willing to beta for me after Imperio. She kicks missing-letter and confusing sentence arse and she gets a 9.5 on my awesometer. Patent pending.