The Thing About One-Night Stands

Special thanks to tari_sue for the beta. ^_^

***


After a shower and Scourgifying the sheets three times Harry thought he could still smell Malfoy and decided maybe he would do better spending the day with Ron and Hermione. Only, he realized with a frown, today was their bookstore opening and that would mean spending a day in the wizard public. He looked around his flat, the whole point of which was to be able to hide away from the wizarding world whenever he wanted. But now all his thoughts flashed to last night and something new came to him; Malfoy had witnessed his little thirteen-year-old moment. God, it couldn’t be any worse.

Yes, a trip to their bookstore was just what he needed. After all, he had promised to stop by opening day anyway. Plus, a little Harry Potter visit would be just the ticket for a successful launch, nothing excited people like a dark-lord defeating celebrity. He plastered on a fake smile, walked out of his apartment, and apparated to Diagon Alley.

The moment he stepped into the bookstore all eyes went to him, which wasn’t exactly pleasant since there seemed to be a good sized crowd. While walking around, looking for Hermione or Ron, he got the usual people patting him on the back as he walked by. There were also quite a few sobbing to him about how thankful they were or blaming him for people’s death. And of course, his favorite, ogling him openly- the most prominent being Sara, who must have decided Harry Potter watching was more fun than actual work.

He was used to it by now, more or less. At least, as used to it as one can be so he let their words wash over him as his eyes searched the heads of people. Not surprisingly, he spotted Ron’s flush of red hair first.

“You made it!” Ron yelled cheerily over the noise of the crowd, clapping him on his back with strength that would make Hagrid proud. The movement caused his whole body to jolt forward as his glasses slipped down his noise.

“’Course. I couldn’t miss your opening, could I? Looks like it’s going well.”

Ron was nodding excitedly. “Mum’s so proud. Says soon the entire alley will be filled with Weasley shops.”

“Right.” Harry didn’t know how to respond, and he definitely didn’t want to think about Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes or who owns it, and who used to. Luckily Hermione saved him by appearing at Ron’s side with a huge grin from ear to ear. Unluckily it disappeared at first glimpse of Harry and he found himself being tugged behind a bookcase and watching as she cast a few privacy wards around them.

“Hermione wha-”

“What’s wrong?” Her voice was calm and careful with concern evident in her tone. How did she always know when something was wrong? If it weren’t for it being disproved in Trelawney classes, he would have though her psychic or an empath or something. He’d walked in with a freaking smile on his face, hadn’t he? She had no right to know that his insides were squirming.

A few lies flashed through his mind but he couldn’t voice any of them. She was smart, she’d know if he wasn’t telling the truth anyway.

“I did something... I had a bad lapse in judgment.”

She nodded, encouraging him to continue. He turned his head and could see Ron at the end of their row, turning people away and shooting him concerned looks. It was times like these he really, really loved them.

“I slept with Draco Malfoy.”

Her intake of breath was impressive; he didn’t know someone’s lungs could do that.

“You...” she paused and he could tell by the way her forehead crinkled she was doing some quick thinking. “I’m sorry, Harry.” She finally said, and really there probably wasn’t anything else to say except questions, which he was grateful she didn’t seem to want to ask at this time. Her arms around him surprised him and he leaned into her touch, feeling comforted by her kind gesture.

Sod Malfoy. He didn’t need him. His friends were all he needed.

“What happened?” she asked into his hair.

He was reluctant to talk, but after the first sentence words started spilling out faster than he could think. “He just kept suggesting it. And finally I agreed. And we went to my place. Then in the morning-”

Thankfully, he recovered enough to restrain his treacherous mouth. He never had a problem closing himself to people in the past, but now, after everything he’d gone through with Ron and Hermione he didn’t think he’d ever be able to shut them out again. For the second time since last night he felt like an out of control child.

Harry took a moment to regain his composure and after a few deep breaths let out a nervous laugh. He pulled away from Hermione and ignored the frown on her face. “Sorry. I’m tired. Just forget everything, how embarrassing.”

“Harry...”

“How’s the opening going? Got quite the turn out so far!” He said, ignoring her warning tone and flashing her what he hoped to be a charming smile. Truth be told, he was feeling a lot better just being around a friendly face again.

“Yes, we’re doing well so far,” she said. “Ron and I are really excited. I’m glad you came... But listen, Harry if-”

“Lets not spoil the mood. We can talk about it later, alright?”

Hermione worried her lip but nodded. “Come over after closing and we can all have dinner.”

***

“I’ve been looking all over for you, mate. Didn’t know you were here or I might’ve brought you something to eat.”

“S’okay,” Harry said sleepily, rubbing his eyes underneath his glasses. “What time is it?”

Harry had ended up staying the whole time, ignoring the looks of concern from Ron and Hermione. He knew Hermione would tell Ron something, but seeing as how he never saw the redhead burst into a bout of anger she probably left out the part about it being Malfoy.

He spent some time avoiding Sara and made sure the press photographed him purchasing a few books. After, he went to hide out in the back of the store on one of the comfortable armchairs just outside of the little cafe area. Not surprisingly, he found the smell of baked goods and brewing tea very relaxing. It was there Ron shook him awake long after everyone had gone.

“Eight. Hermione says you’re coming over for dinner.”

Harry nodded, stretched, and stood.

When he arrived at their flat he felt a tingle of regret from his intrusion. There was a bottle of red wine and two stem glasses laid out on their coffee table. Hermione went to fetch another glass immediately, but it was already too late, he knew he was interrupting their private celebration.

“So,” Ron said, handing him a glass of wine, “Am I ever going to find out what you and my girlfriend were talking about so hush-hush?”

“Ron. Don’t just blurt it out, let him get settled for goodness sake.” She turned to Harry with a motherly smile on her face. “You shouldn’t drink on an empty stomach, how about some cheese and bread?”

She spun around and bounced off to the kitchen before he could even answer. He felt a smart jab to his ribs and turned his head to hear Ron whisper, “More and more like Mum every day. Kinda scary, don’t you think?”

“I heard that Ronald!” Hermione shouted. Ron’s face went pale.

“See, what’d I tell you?” His voice cracking weakly.

Harry laughed. It was so easy to forget his troubles with them. Sometimes, selfishly, he would wish his friends had never become romantically involved. His place in their life hadn’t changed, but their place in each other’s had. Three friends, one couple and he became the odd man out once in a while. Life always has to be complicated for him; he couldn’t just be straight, he couldn’t just marry Ginny and live out the rest of his life married into the Weasley family.

“Harry?”

He looked up and realized Hermione had returned to sit with Ron on the couch. “Sorry. I zoned out, what were you saying?”

“I haven’t told Ron,” Hermione was handing him the breadbasket and he took a roll. “Why don’t you catch him up.”

Stalling, Harry shoved half the roll into his mouth and took his time to chew it. Hermione was a tricky witch and if he didn’t think carefully about his words, she’d always have the upper hand. “Now’s a time for celebrating! Let’s not talk about all that depressing crap.”

“Come on, mate. You can tell me. Is it er, anything to do with the war? Bad memories you’re having? Nightmares?”

He knew Ron was only trying to help, but he was making Harry feel worse. Compared to the war this was nothing, his problems were pathetic. He was pathetic.

“Nothing like that. I’m just having a few relationship issues is all.”

“Ah, well, I can understand that,” Ron said, jerking his head poignantly towards Hermione, who in turn slapped his arm.

“Seriously, Harry, what is it?”

Closing his eyes Harry reasoned that they weren’t going to just let this pass. If he wanted to move onto the happy celebrating, he’d have to just get this over with. “I had a one-off with someone and it ended bad.”

Ron clicked his tongue sympathetically. “Bad luck, mate. Anyone I know?”

“Draco Malfoy,” Harry mumbled silently.

There was a long pause where Harry waited, listening to the crackling wood in the fire. Their place really was nice and cozy.

“He’s dead,” Ron said, standing up and grabbing his coat. “Bloody wanker, I’ll hex his bits off. Does he still live with mummy and daddy at the Manor?”

Hermione was up like a rocket. “Ron. Ron! Sit down! You can’t just march in there and hex him.”

“Like hell I can’t! I’ll have Kreatcher pop me right into the git’s bedroom. Kreatcher! Go on, call him Harry.”

“Down,” Hermione said, tugging on Ron’s arm so forcefully he fell back with a rather loud thump onto the couch. One arm was in his jacket sleeve and the other waving his wand around as yellow sparks flew out.

“What you need,” Hermione interjected, “Is a good man.”

“Damn straight,” Ron said.

It was their simple solution. A good man. But what makes a good man? Honesty? Integrity? A caring heart? Was he suppose to define what a good man meant to him? How could he find one if he didn’t even know what he was looking for?


***


“Just go and talk to him, Harry. He’s already waiting for you.”

“I can’t believe you did this to me Hermione. This is as tricky as a Slytherin, you know that?”

Harry, being the good friend he was, had come in to help with the store at Hermione’s request. Only, he was met with a little more than expected. She was trying to set him up, the sneaky little witch, with someone from her book club. Brandon something or other. Joy, another bookworm in his life.

It wasn’t that he was a bad looking bloke - he appeared quite charming actually - but it just felt rather strange to be set up. Looking at this stranger there just seemed to be something wrong, and he couldn’t place his thumb on it, it was just out of grasp of what could be making him feel that way.

As he approached the table he studied Brandon’s profile. It was nice, he was handsome in a boyish sort of way. He had dark hair and tanned skin, very easy on the eyes. Maybe Hermione was right, he didn’t look like such a bad bloke. What could it hurt to give him a chance?

“Brandon?” he said, throwing on the best smile he could muster without it feeling too forced. “Pleasure to meet you, I’m--”

“Harry, of course,” Brandon said, flashing a toothy smile and gripping Harry’s outstretched hand. “If I didn’t already know you for your popularity in the wizarding world, I’d recognize you by everything Hermione has told me.”

Harry laughed, hoping it didn’t sound too nervous.

“Have a seat,” Brandon said. “Are you hungry? Thirsty? Anything you want is on me.”

Shaking his head no, Harry reached for the seat at the other end of the table. However, before he could sit Brandon pushed out the chair next to him and patted it, shooting him another toothy grin. Harry had to hide his grimace, praying Brandon wasn’t just another Harry Potter fan. If nothing else, he was energetic and youthful in a charming way.

“So,” Harry said, tapping his fingers on the table and mentally stopping himself from nervously shaking his leg. “Where did you graduate? Not Hogwarts, I assume, or else I would have known you.”

“No.” He laughed, pleasant and open. “I went to Durmstrang Institute.”

“But you don’t have an accent.”

“No, I wouldn’t, would I? I was born and raised in London. Didn’t you ever know anyone from Hogwarts that almost went to Durmstrang? It’d be the same for them, you understand.”

Harry looked off towards the row of books on his left, feeling foolish. There was a flash of mousy brown hair that Harry caught between books and had to wonder if Hermione would be so low as to listen into their conversation with an extendable ear. It could always be Sara, he supposed. Wishing he had taken up Brandon’s offer for something to eat or drink, anything to be able to distract himself with, he turned back sheepishly as he looked into dark brown eyes.

“What do you do nowadays?”

Crap, the question Harry always dreaded being asked. He didn’t really have an answer, except for keeping himself busy day by day and placating Hermione with promises that he wasn’t going to lock himself away in his flat for the rest of his life.

“A little of this and that. Been trying to ground myself.”

Brandon nodded and reached out his hand, placing it on top of the one Harry was drumming his fingers with on the table. At first he assumed this gesture was to stop his fidgeting, but when the hand wasn’t pulled away Harry cleared his throat and had to fight the impulse to jerk it back. “What about you?”

“I’m studying pre-med. I plan to become a medi wizard in the future.”

“Oh. That’s rather admirable. Takes a very ambitious sort to do that kind of thing.”

That earned Harry another one of those boyishly charming smiles. He was enjoying Brandon’s company, he really was. The brown-eyed boy was likable and engaging, but there was just something unnerving in the air, like an ominous shift in the wind that could mean many things.

“Thank you.” Brandon squeezed Harry’s hand. “Hermione tells me you haven’t ever had a real relationship, is this true?” He sounded skeptical

“Well. I sort of, with a girl. But...”

“Not with a guy?”

“Right.”

“Understandable, but rather hard to believe.”

“Really?”

“Yes.” Brandon gave his hand another squeeze. “You’re absolutely gorgeous, I’m surprised you don’t have to fight off the men with a stick.”

Harry blushed and looked down, consequently at their hands. It looked, well, strange for Brandon’s hand to be on his. Their skin tones were too well matched and he thought it might be nice to see a pale complexion instead.

Brandon was laughing joyfully again. “You’re blushing! You’re cute when you blush.”

“Potter!”

Harry jerked at the shout, snapping his head to the side in surprised. That wasn’t nearly as surprising as who he saw standing casually at their table.

“Malfoy. What the hell are you doing here?” Harry said, standing up and facing the blond.

Draco’s face held just the smallest tint of pink on the apples of his cheeks. “I have every right to be at this bookstore.”

“I didn’t say anything about rights, I asked what are you doing here?”

Malfoy’s lips twisted into a smirk. “Standing.”

Harry rolled his eyes and shot Brandon, who was looking inquisitively at Malfoy, an apologetic look. “You know what I mean, why are you standing here, and why did you address me?”

“I need to talk to you,” Malfoy said, sparing Brandon half an annoyed glance. “Alone.”

“I’ve nothing to say to you.”

“Doesn’t matter,” he shrugged and studied the cuticles on his hand, “I still have something to say to you.”
For the first time Brandon seemed to react to the situation, standing so fast his chair screeched against the floor of the small cafe. “I believe he’s asking you to leave.”

“My, Potter, getting loyal Hufflepuffs to stand up for you now?” Malfoy sneered and Harry didn’t miss the shift of hands from both boys. Wands, hidden, but drawn. Fucking hell, the last thing he needed was Hermione and Ron’s store getting destroyed by a duel.

“This isn’t the place for this,” he hissed, turning to Malfoy. “If you agree to leave right after, I’ll listen to what you have to say.”

Malfoy smirked, his face set in a very smug way. Brandon leaned into Harry, closer than allowed for comfort and placed a hand on his shoulder. “I understand,” he whispered, his lips so close that the little hairs in Harry’s ear moved. “Hermione would have my head if I were to throw hexes around in here. I’ll get your floo from her and contact you sometime.”

When, to Harry’s great relief, Brandon pulled away, he just barely caught something flash across Malfoy’s eyes. Annoyance, or maybe anger, he couldn’t tell and didn’t really care to know anyway. Before anything could be said Harry was tugging on Malfoy’s arm and leading him out of the cafe and through the backdoor usually used only by employees. This brought them out to the small alley in rear of the store and away from prying eyes. Just to be sure, Harry cast a privacy charm all the same.

“Okay, Malfoy, what do you want?”

That damnable smirk was still on those pink lips. “I’ve been thinking.”

“Great. And?”

Was that a nervous flicker in those silver eyes? “I think I’ve been shorted by our one-night stand.”

Shorted. Meaning Harry hadn’t been any good. It was like a cold wind whipped across his body. It shouldn’t matter what Malfoy thought, but it did.

“Sorry I was such a disappointment.” He was feeling a bit defensive so the words came out rather harsher than he had intended.

“No, you imbecile. You were fine. Fantastic actually. But I didn’t get what had been promised.”

Harry scrunched his brow and narrowed his eyes. “What?”

“Sex, Harry. A one-night stand usually means sex.”

“We... that is, there was sex... of sorts.”

“You know what I mean,” Malfoy said, in that dangerous voice that was low, throaty, and full of hidden promises. Harry shivered

“It was a one-off, Malfoy. We both got off, so I held up my end of the bargain.” He had to argue against this. He couldn’t let it happen again because his heart was speeding up and his breath was catching, not with lust, but an incredible fear that he would start to like being with Malfoy more than he ought to.

“Come on, don’t make me go through the trouble of convincing you again. You know I’ll get my way in the end.” Malfoy leaned in close enough for Harry to smell the strangely familiar clean scent of Malfoy. He hadn’t even realized he had memorized it until now, but the smell made his blood surge with arousal.

“Things change,” Harry said, taking a step back from Malfoy and subsequently hitting the grimy brick wall of the alleyway. In an instant Malfoy’s face was twisting into a sneer.

“New boyfriends?”

“That’s none of your damn business!”

“Come on, Potter, I can make you feel a lot better than he ever could.” Malfoy stepped closer, boxing Harry in as he placed pale arms on either side of his head.

“Just drop it. I said I’m not interested.”

“Oh, I think you are,” Malfoy whispered huskily, squeezing their bodies flush against each other, his thigh pressing against an obvious interest of his body.
Harry hissed because as much as he wanted to deny it, it felt so good.

“D-don’t,” he pleaded quietly.

Before Harry could get enough sense in him to properly protest, Malfoy was down on his knees, tailored pants touching the filthy, cobblestone ground of the alleyway. “Do you really want me to stop?”

Harry tried to nod, tried to force his vocal cords and lips apart enough to whisper yes, but he was paralyzed, standing there and staring down. Memories of what had happened in the shower, the best fucking blow-job in his life, the most pleasure he had ever felt, washed over him in cascades of pleasure. He wanted that again. He wanted Malfoy’s lips around him, sucking hard until he spilled his seed into that pretty little mouth.

Malfoy’s fingers traced the growing bulge in his trousers and Harry screwed his eyes shut, the palms of his hands scraping against coarse bricks behind him. He was beyond protest now, just trying to keep his body in control and not thrust into those teasing touches. He heard his zipper being opened and felt the coolness of the air on his thighs as his jeans were pulled down.

He should stop this. He really needed to stop this. It was so wrong, so very, very wrong. At the same time, there was no denying it was what he wanted. Starved for intimacy for so long, and now here it was, being offered under false pretenses. It didn’t mean anything to Malfoy like it did to Harry, but it was there, and it was all he had so when Malfoy mouthed the head of his cock through the fabric of his boxers, he arched his back and weaved his hand through baby-fine hair.

“Should I stop?” Malfoy said, just a bit of a mocking tone hidden behind layers of lust. His hand pressed firmer onto Harry’s cock, sliding down agonizingly slow with just enough pressure to drive Harry crazy. He felt another hand on the inside of his thigh, sliding up and up, underneath the hem of his boxer leg until his balls were being fondled with warm, confident fingers.

His skin burned, every touch like a flame lapping at his body. Only Malfoy had ever made him feel this good, this incredible, this alive. Malfoy drew passions out of him that were buried so deeply Harry hadn’t even know they existed.

Abruptly, Malfoy pulled back and Harry whimpered with a shaky breath. “Please,” he groaned.

“Please what?” Malfoy’s reply was soft and gentle and he couldn’t resist opening his eyes to look down into those vivacious silver ones.

“Please keep... keep going,” Harry whispered, hating that he sounded so needy. His ears burned, but Malfoy’s expression was warm and comforting. He pulled down Harry’s boxers slowly, keeping the eye contact all the while. When his lips sealed around the head, Harry inhaled sharply. Trying to keep his hips from thrusting was a futile effort he found, and could only manage to keep them in jerky, rolling motion.

Then there was that marvelous suction that had Harry crying out loudly, glad that he had cast the privacy charm before this but worried that the door wasn’t locked and all it would take is a cigarette break before someone came out. His worries were placed on the back burner as Malfoy’s tongue did something delightfully sinful with the glans on the end of his cock and Harry’s hand pressed against the side of Malfoy’s head softly, appreciatively.

Before he could move it back to the wall he felt the undeniable squeeze of his fingers being laced with pale ones. He looked down, watching Malfoy’s lips stretch across his shaft as he was sucked into that fantastic mouth, all the while the hands remained linked so tenderly. The gaze he saw from Malfoy was so intimate it had him arching his back and almost sobbing as the blond sucked him through his orgasm.

Once the roaring in his ears started to mellow out, he noticed another sound. A strange, quiet, but out of place sound. Like static electricity popping and crackling, but muffled as if being listened to from under a heavy quilt. He tried to remember back to before, thinking he might have heard this the first night too, but had ignored it. He was brought out of his musing when he felt Malfoy’s lips against his neck, kissing and sucking. And then his other hand was being tugged down and Harry realized Malfoy had opened his own pants.

He wrapped his free hand around Malfoy’s warm, throbbing erection and felt something tender squirming in his chest. He felt a squeeze to his left hand, still grasped by Malfoy’s, fingers interlaced like lovers. Pinching at the head like he knew Malfoy liked, he pulled at the warm shaft in his grip. Sure enough that earned him an erotic moan against his neck.

Malfoy’s head shielded Harry from actually looking down as he sucked on his pulse point, rather hard, so he had to do everything by feel alone. He rubbed his fingers against the underside of Malfoy’s cock, digging into the throbbing vein which caused the blond’s hips to jerk erratically a few times. As he quickened his pace Malfoy’s free hand cupped his neck and he started to kiss around Harry’s face, his cheeks, the corner of his mouth, the tip of his noise, his chin.

Harry continued faster, and with a firmer grip until finally Malfoy’s body was going ridged and right before he felt the slide of come between his fingers and over his knuckles, his mouth was being captured in a desperate, moan-filled kiss. The sound of crackling surged around them again, still faint but very distinguishable.

Time stretched out and they kissed and kissed and kissed, frozen in the moment as their tongues rubbed and their mouths panted. Harry let the warmth and smell of Malfoy caress him, not caring how much he shouldn’t be enjoying this.

Eventually, Malfoy moved his hand from Harry’s check and tucked himself in before fastening his trousers and lowering his robes. He cast a cleaning spell and shifted over. Surprisingly, he didn’t move away and instead rested his head on Harry’s shoulder.

“Is it that good with your boyfriend?” Malfoy asked. Harry furrowed his brow.

“If you’re referring to the bloke I was talking to, I just met him today.”

Malfoy pulled back and looked right at Harry, eyes dancing back and forth as if searching for something.

“There you are!” Harry jumped at Hermione’s voice as she peaked her head out the door. “I was wandering where... you...” Her voice trailed off as her eyes took in their appearance. He knew what they looked like, swollen lips, tousled hair, rumpled clothes, and fucking hell their hands were still linked together. He jerked away from Malfoy, pulling his hand free at the same time.

Everything seemed to come to a crashing halt. How did he let this happen again. And Hermione had found out, right after he was suppose to be meeting with her friend. She had to have know he was out here with Malfoy, probably came because she thought things weren’t going well and wanted to help him. How was he going to explain this to her? What was wrong with him?

And at that very moment Malfoy turned to him, a smirk on his face and an unreadable expression in his eyes. Wordlessly, he turned and disappeared with a pop!, leaving Harry alone with a very scandalized looking Hermione, the bastard.


***

TBC


++++

Replies:
Thanks so much to everyone that commented. *Hugs all around*
It motivated me to update faster. ^_^

avihenda
Hopefully everything will come together and be explained... hopefully. XD


ZooArmy Oops, thanks for the correction!


Jay Ficlover
Lol... we’ll have to see... :)

Jilliane
^_^
Poor Harry, I like to torment him so. *Grins evilly*
This story will stick with Harry’s POV, but I have an upcoming fic that’ll be switching between the two of them. :)