House Booty is Bad Booty

Last night I had a dream about you
In this dream I'm dancing right beside you
And it looked like everyone was having fun
The kind of feeling I waited so long
Don't stop, come a little closer
As we jam, the rhythm gets stronger
There's nothing wrong with just a little little fun
We were dancing all night long
...
The time is right to wrap my arms around you
You're feeling right, you wrap your arms around too
But suddenly I feel the shining sun
Before I know it, this dream is all gone.


The sun shone in Draco's eyes as he slowly took stock of his situation. He was sprawled on the floor of the bathroom, in a position that suggested he'd been sick before passing out. He tried to sit up and fell back on the tile, groaning. A song was playing in the living room... no, it was in his head. Oh wait. It was the song that was playing when... oh shit. No way. No.

Scenes from last night flashed through his head - Harry dancing, Draco smoking in the living room, dancing with Harry, Harry kissing him, Harry... fucking him? He tested the veracity of this memory by flexing his buttocks. Yes. Well, someone had fucked him, that was true enough.

Panic flooded Draco. He ransacked his fuzzy memory for any clues that he'd revealed his feelings to Harry. It didn't seem as though he did, but he couldn't be absolutely sure. Why did I have to drink so much, he whined internally. The song lyrics echoed again in his head. How ridiculously apt, he thought. The dream is all gone, indeed.

Draco picked himself off the tiles at long last and stepped into the shower. He knew he was just delaying the inevitable, ie: facing the fallout of this most ill-considered adventure. But maybe... maybe Harry did feel something for him.

Clearly Harry desired him, at the very least. Against his will, a tiny bird of hope began beating against his ribcage. He hadn't the heart to smother it - it was so pretty and felt so good and he would just let it live for a moment or two longer....

The bird was still fluttering in his chest when he went into the kitchen to see Harry sitting at the table. At the sight of him, the bird died a sudden and gruesome death. Harry was scowling at the paper, a bottle of Top Secret Unspeakable hangover potion by his coffee cup. He didn't look up at Draco.

Draco had no idea what to say. Everything that came to mind was inane, or pathetic, or both. He got some coffee from the coffee pot, muttered, "Thanks for making coffee," and went to his bedroom. When he came out, a couple hours later, Harry was gone.

The week passed by like an ice age- cold and interminable. Draco, incapable of taking such a risk, kept looking to Harry to make the first move. It stubbornly failed to happen. The tension grew to the point where Draco couldn't even stand to be in the same room with him, much less talk normally to him.

After a week and half, he began to get seriously, debilitatingly anxious. Draco was reduced to composing notes to Harry at work. They went along these lines:

If you'd ever care to 'experiment' again, I can be found in my room from around 11:45pm to about 6:15am most nights; hours vary on the weekends. I'd be amenable to making an appointment, but walk-ins are also acceptable. I can be reached by owl, floo, note, live voice, or physical contact.

He always crumpled them up, feeling stupid and sick and sad.

* * *

That Saturday night, Draco realized that he was going to have to force the issue, damn the consequences.

He approached Harry, who was reclining on the couch reading a magazine, and stood over him, feeling about thirteen years old.

“Hey.”

Harry looked up from the magazine he was reading. “What's up?”

Draco didn't know how to begin. It'd been hard enough to address Harry at all. “So, what was that, the other night?”

Harry looked at him blankly. “I don't know, what did you think it was?”

“I think we had sex,” he said flatly.

Harry smiled, unamused. “Yes. We had sex.”

“Was that all it was?” Draco kept his voice as neutral as possible, which meant it sounded rather cold.

“What do you mean?”

“Was it something more to you?” he elaborated, tense and annoyed.

Harry avoided Draco's eyes. “You afraid the ickle Gryffindor is going to start having messy emotions all over you? Don't concern yourself, Draco. It was just sex.”

“Right then. Good. I'm glad we cleared that up.” Draco stared around the room, feeling an awful sense of impending tears. “Well. I'm for bed.”

“Me too.” Harry rose from the couch and stalked off.

Draco walked into his bedroom and closed the door. He did not sleep that night.

* * *

The next morning, Draco went downstairs for coffee, dread pressing on all his senses. He didn't know how to act in the wake of that conversation. Certainly, relations would be strained. Best to just pretend nothing had happened.

"Morning," he said to Harry's back, as casually as he could manage. Harry was making cereal and he saw how Harry froze at the sound of his voice.

"Hey," Harry replied in a monotone. "Oh, I should tell you. I was talking to a friend last night, and it turns out she's looking for a roommate. So, I'm moving out at the end of the week."

Draco's nervous, circulatory and digestive systems sank through the floor, leaving him immobilized, freezing cold and unable to hear anything. His consciousness shrank to a tiny area, just large enough to see Potter's mouth moving.

Slowly sound came back and he heard, "...just think it's better this way. It was never going to be a permanent thing, was it? I mean come on, talk about the Odd Couple." Harry laughed uncomfortably. "Anyway, she says I can start moving stuff in today."

Draco summoned his voice from wherever it had fled with the rest of his faculties and said, "Yes, I guess that is for the best. Let me know what I can do to assist you. Of course, packing won't be a problem because everything here is mine, with the exception of some manky old clothes and commemorative Quidditch pint glasses. Excuse me, I have to go to work."

He walked outside to the Apparation point and abruptly realized that in his dazed state he would undoubtedly splinch himself horrifically. Numb, he started walking down the street, not even sure if it was the right direction to the Tube, not even sure how he was staying on his feet. If he actually was on his feet - maybe he'd passed out from the shock and was lying in a gutter somewhere, hallucinating all this.

This had to be a hallucination. This couldn't be really happening. He couldn't have driven Harry away. No. Harry was the best thing to happen to him ... well, ever. Without Harry life had nothing, no charm, no flavor, no substance, no purpose.

Realizing that he would be of no use at work even if he could manage to find his way there, he walked directly into the nearest wizarding bar and began drinking. When he could no longer enunciate clearly enough to order another drink, he got the bartender to Floo Nott to pick him up.

"Merlin, Malfoy, you look like shit." Nott had never minced words, but his tone was full of concern.

Draco just stared at him, trying to decide which of the three blurry Notts was the real one.

"You're coming home with me, right now," Nott said with finality.

Draco did a sort of wobbly nod, indicating consent. Nott pulled him up out of his seat and Apparated them both into a spare bedroom, laying Draco down with care. He passed out immediately.

Once awake and sober, Draco had the brilliant notion that he should leave the country for awhile instead of returning home. He invented an ill relative and the Ministry released him for a week-long trip to Greece. He left that same morning, leaving a thank-you for Nott with his house-elf.

* * *

One sun-drenched silent week later he returned, tanned and rested and feeling marginally less hollowed-out. He fully expected Potter's things to be removed from his premises, and his expectations were fulfilled. He spent the following week attempting to convince himself that he didn't miss Potter and was in fact glad to again have his privacy. He was monumentally unsuccessful in this endeavor.

He was also unsuccessful at the most basic aspects of self-care, beyond grooming and styling. Without Potter around to cook, and until he could get some more house-elves, it became clear that Draco was going to have to feed himself.

Reluctantly and with a sense of futility, he went down to the market and was frowning at some tomatoes when he heard a much-longed-for voice. Potter's. He clamped down on the jolt that went through him and forced himself not to turn around.

"Hi, Draco. You're looking well." Potter was right behind him, speaking almost into his ear.

He jumped about a foot in the air. "Thanks. Went to Greece."

"It agreed with you."

"Mm."

"I was wondering ..." Harry broke off, stepping back. "Um, never mind. See you -"

"No, what?" Draco interrupted, hating how eager he sounded. That's why Potter moved out in the first place; he could tell you wanted him more than he wanted you. Play it cool.

"Well, I was wondering if you'd like to have a drink with me. Sometime. Doesn't have to be tonight."

"I'm not doing anything special." Damn it, I said play it cool, not pounce on the first opportunity offered!

"Good. Well. There's a place around the corner..."

"I know, that's where I ran into you the night ..." we agreed you should move in and then I fell in love with you and drove you away. For fuck's sake, shut up, Draco.

"Yeah, right. Well, they do a good fish and chips. I realize that's not up to your usual standards, but even a helpless aristocrat has to eat, right? It'll save you from whatever tomato-flavored disaster you were contemplating."

Draco adored snarky-Harry. "Don't do snarky, Harry. It doesn't suit you."

Harry laughed. Okay, things weren't quite back to normal, but perhaps they could do this friends thing.

* * *

“So, Greece really treated you well, huh?” Harry leaned back in his chair, setting down his pint.

“I'll let you be the judge of that,” Draco said smugly. So far, everything was going great.

“What do you mean? You have pictures?”

“No, I mean - look at me - my tan, Potter! I'm all sun-kissed!” He gestured expansively.

Harry leaned over to inspect his face. Draco got a little restless.

“I hate to break it to you, because I know how vain you are, but you're not tan. See a few freckles, though,” Harry smirked broadly at him.

“I do not have freckles, you speccy git! And - alright, yes, I am vain. But… freckles???”

Harry was laughing openly at him, now. “Hmmm… now that I think about it, you sort of bear a passing resemblance to one of the Weasleys... which one, let me think…”

“You arsehole!” Draco was laughing now, too. “For that, you're getting the next round.”

“Yeah, yeah - back in a mo'.” Harry walked to the bar and Draco tracked his arse all the way there. Oh, no good. No good at all. He got up and headed for the loo, hoping that some cold water would clear his head.

* * *

“There you are - I got back to the table and you were gone. Thought you'd done a runner on me,” Harry joked, leaning against the counter. Draco turned away from the basin and brushed his hair back, self-consciously.

“And you were so worried you followed me into the gents? Ever hear of a little thing called 'separation anxiety', Harry?”

“Yes, it's quite natural for orphans to follow people around like lost puppies. Also, I hear substance abuse problems are rampant.” He dangled a spliff in front of Draco's face and raised his eyebrows suggestively.

“Oh, you naughty boy,” Draco said, and then blushed. He was in a loo, with Potter, about to get high. This was such a bad idea.

Harry lit up and inhaled. He always looked so graceful doing that. Some people were born to make breaking the rules look sexy, and Harry had always been one of them. He exhaled slowly and handed over the joint to Draco, who inhaled rather more deeply than he'd intended.

Draco looked over at Harry, who was looking back with an indescribable expression on his face. Okay, it wasn't exactly indescribable, but it looked a lot like desire, and Draco wasn't prepared to believe that he could be so lucky.

As it happened, he didn't have time to worry about believing it or not, because the next moment Harry was up against him - warm and hard and breathing down his neck.

"Draco, I want ..." He didn't finish his sentence, but his tongue in Draco's ear made it vividly clear what he wanted. And Draco wanted it too, oh so badly, and the pot and alcohol again joined forces to suppress the voice in Draco's head that wanted to scream 'No no no Draco bad boy this is so bad you can't do this you're going to get hurt again noooooo'. He could sort of still make it out, but it was easily brushed aside in favor of tasting Harry, feeling his arse, nipping at his lips, neck, oh god Harry's hand was down his pants.... Draco gasped, and Harry must have taken it the wrong way because he was pulling away and babbling something about being so sorry.

Draco winced, because he knew that 'I'm sorry' meant 'I'm sorry I'm leading you on.'

"Don't worry, I'm fine," he said, stiffly.

"It's just that- I know this isn't what you want from me." Harry was looking anywhere but at Draco.

"What, kissing? I was okay with that." I mean, I want your heart and soul forever, but I'll settle for kissing. More kissing? Please?

"No, I -" Harry smiled ruefully. "Maybe you want kissing. I do, too. But I want more than - Gods, I wish I had known when I moved in what you would do to me. I meant, I know you don't want all this sappy stuff. Emotions. A relationship."

"What on earth are you talking about? What I would do to you?"

"How much you'd turn me on.” He took a deep breath and clearly forced himself to continue. “How much I'd like hanging out with you. I do. I really really do. I'm sorry, I thought I could keep it casual but I wanted it so much and then after that night - we had sex and I told you I was in love with you and you... you didn't do anything, you didn't respond and you didn't make another move and I was just going crazy, I thought you hated me, or regretted it, or that I was terrible in bed or something..." He trailed off.

"What?"

Draco was staring at him.

"Draco, what -"

And then Draco was kissing him harder and more passionately than he'd ever imagined kissing anyone. He possessed Harry's mouth, his hands announced their intention to possess his arse, and his groin declared ownership over Harry's cock. Harry was his. All his. Always his. He could scream for joy, except that would mean he'd have to stop kissing Harry, and he wasn't about to do that yet.

"So fucking in love with you," he whispered against Harry's lips, clutching him tighter and grinding his cock into Harry's hard length.

Reluctantly, he pulled away, letting his hands drift down Harry's arms and take up Harry's hands. He brought the fingertips to his lips and kissed each one. Harry's eyes drifted closed and he let out a long shuddering sigh.

“We're not going to do this drunk. Let's go to my house and take some of your Unspeakable potion. I want to remember every last second of this night.”

Harry looked deeply into Draco's eyes, leaned forward and brushed Draco's lips with his own. “God, yes. Every second.”

Draco's heart skipped a beat, but he still had the forethought to use his emergency home Portkey - for situations just such as this, when Apparition was out of the question.

Once there, Draco drew away from Harry and walked towards the bedroom.

"Oh, are we using your bedroom, then?"

"Our bedroom. You are moving back in."

"Oh, am I?" Harry sounded delighted.

"You are. And we are getting house-elves again, because we are not leaving this bed for a week, and we'll need to eat. So deal with it."

"You know what else I'm going to deal with?" Harry asked, voice low and suggestive.

Draco felt a little breathless. "What?" He found himself backed up against the door to his bedroom, hands on his belt buckle.

"Your trousers." As he said this, Harry's hands were working on unbuttoning said trousers and pushing them down. Draco stepped out of them, aware of his prick, hard and leaking precome, bouncing against the top of Harry's clothed thigh. "And then I'm going to deal with your shirt." Nimble fingers dealt with the buttons on the shirt and pulled it off Draco's shoulders, leaving him naked in front of a fully clothed Harry. "And then I'm going to deal with you."

Speech was difficult when all the blood in his body had traveled to his cock, but Draco was nothing if not verbal. "What about my tie?" he asked, challengingly.

"We're leaving that on." Harry waved his hand and Draco felt magic shimmer on his chest. He looked down. The tie, previously a muted wedgewood blue, was now green and silver. A Slytherin tie. He laughed incredulously.

"So, this was a long-standing crush, then?" Hope busted out of the prison of his ribcage and suffused his whole body. He felt right then like he could take flight with no broomstick, no spell; just the way he felt at that exact moment would carry him into the heavens. That, and the way Harry was looking at him, lust and love clear as day in his eyes.

"You could say that. C'mere." Harry tugged on the tie and led Draco to the bed. House booty was about to be very good booty, indeed.

"I want you on your back this time."

Draco climbed onto the bed and stretched out wantonly, displaying his lean, smooth body to its full advantage. His heart was racing and he was fighting not to close his eyes because he felt so exposed, because the sight of Harry's eyes devouring him was too good, too good to be believed, too good to be borne.

Harry slowly stripped off his own clothing, maintaining eye contact as much as possible, and Draco stroked himself, moaning and blushing at the sound.

"I like it when you sound like that."

"Like what?" asked Draco, though he knew exactly what Harry meant.

"You sound helpless, like I could do anything I wanted with you and you wouldn't be able to stop me."

Draco felt like he'd been punched in the stomach, in the most delightful way possible. He hadn't imagined he'd enjoy giving over control this much, though he must have known subliminally that co-existing with the kind, jovial Harry there was a demanding, dominating Harry that would take him in hand and give him what for.

Harry, fully naked now, climbed on top of Draco and kissed him thoroughly, fingers entwined with Draco's, pressing his hands down on the bed above his head.

"Want you so much," he breathed in Draco's ear. "Want to fuck you, want you to fuck me, want you every way I can get you..." He rubbed his erection against Draco's and they both gasped.

Draco strained upwards to Harry, kissing him with abandon, trying to get as much contact as possible while being restrained. "Let me give you a blow job, Harry."

Harry smiled, panting. "Maybe later. I'm gonna fuck you now, and you're going to remember this."

He spread Draco's legs further apart and let go of one hand, bringing it down underneath his balls and teasing Draco's spasming hole. The tingle of a lubrication charm filled him, and he groaned with need.

"Need you right now. Fucking put it in, Potter."

Harry closed his eyes and inhaled deeply through his nose, apparently trying to maintain control. The head of his cock penetrated Draco in one shocking second, and his shaft followed, excruciatingly slowly.

Draco's hips bucked up, taking Harry in to the hilt. "What part of 'fuck me now' did you not understand?" he said, using his free hand to pull Harry's lips to his. Their tongues met as Harry began pumping into him, the rhythm speeding up and slowing down with a randomness that kept Draco wonderfully on edge, never knowing what was coming next.

Except that they both were coming, suddenly and powerfully, muscles shuddering as their climax strained their overstimulated nervous systems. Harry collapsed on top of Draco, breathing too heavily to say anything, but his lips moved against Draco's ear, and it felt like he was mouthing Draco's name.

They lay like that for a minute or so, recovering their breath and senses. Draco was contemplating whether it was actually possible to die of happiness, when something occurred to him.

"So, why did I wake up on the bathroom floor the other morning? That wasn't very gallant of you," Draco drawled as he elbowed Harry's side.

"Hey! Stop that! It wasn't my fault; I took you to my bed and we fell asleep together but in the morning you weren't there. You must have gone to the bathroom and passed out," Harry replied as he rolled on his side and began stroking Draco's hair.

"You took me to your bed? I don't remember that at all, " Draco said, confused but leaning into the stroking.

"Well, you weren't conscious at the time," Harry said, sounding slightly shifty.

"You absconded with me? You abducted me while I was helpless?" Draco exclaimed, full of mock-outrage.

"You were hardly helpless - or I should say, you may have been helpless, but you were also still hard." He cleared his throat. "I just wanted to make sure that got... taken care of."

"You... no!"

"Yes." Harry grinned at him.

"You blew me while I was passed out!" Draco was not-so-secretly thrilled by this idea.

"I kept hoping you'd wake up, but you didn't."

"You pervert!" Draco laughed delightedly.

"Only for you," Harry murmured, kissing Draco's neck.

Draco hummed approvingly. "You can perv on me anytime, Harry."

"I intend to," Harry replied, dragging Draco closer to him and burying his face in the blond hair. They lay quietly for several more minutes.

"Why did you offer to move in?" Draco asked, hoping his sudden intuition was correct.

"Why do you think?" His tone was evasive but amused.

"Mmm.... because you've nursed a crush on me since fifth year?" Draco ventured.

"Ah," said Harry, "it's not as simple as that. It took me forever to figure out why I thought about you all the time."

"You've never been quick, I've always said."

Harry smacked his arm playfully. "Do you want the explanation or not? I'm perfectly happy keeping it to myself, you know."

"Really?"

"No, not really, I've been dying to tell you." Harry laughed. "So, I had always thought about you, but it was mostly 'why is Malfoy such an arse?' ... until I actually started noticing your arse."

"Hard to keep your eyes off it, isn't it?" Draco asked, smug but delighted.

"Now that we've reached our... understanding, it's going to be hard to keep my prick out of it." He shifted Draco around so that he could kiss him, groping his arse as he did so. Draco responded enthusiastically and they got lost in each other for a while, until Harry came up for air.

"Where was I? Oh yes, your arse. Well, I began to think I must be gay, if I was checking out boys' arses. So I decided to test it out. Made out with Seamus after a victory party in sixth year, and it was nice, but it wasn't the end-all be-all."

"Hardly surprising - Finnigan doesn't look like he'd know the first thing about kissing boys," Draco huffed.

"Yeah, well, skipping ahead a bit -" Harry rolled his eyes. "After the war, I dated quite a bit, both sexes, and the sex was good, but better with women. Which did not explain why I still checked out men's arses. Then came Theodore Nott's party. And your striptease. God, that was the hottest thing to ever happen to me. Basically, when I saw you dance to that song, I realized I'd had a crush on you for years without being able to acknowledge it."

Draco couldn't imagine being happier than he was at that moment. "So you decided to trick me into letting you move in?"

"What can I say, you were vulnerable and I was horny." Harry smiled wryly at him. "I didn't think it would take as long as it did, what with me practically throwing myself at you."

"Throwing yourself at me???"

"I manipulated my way into your home, I spent nearly every waking hour in the living room so that you couldn't avoid hanging out with me, I intentionally wore the thinnest t-shirts possible -"

"And here I just thought you were too cheap to buy new ones..." Draco said, wonderingly. "Well, those t-shirts worked. I had the damnedest time not staring at you when you'd wander into the kitchen half-clothed like that."

"You are entirely too subtle for your own good, because it seemed like you never noticed. I was losing my mind. For Christ's sake, I was reduced to getting you drunk and stripping for you!"

"I just never imagined that you'd want me," Draco confessed, in a rare display of honesty. "I'm not a good person, Harry. I think you're just infatuated by my - admittedly - lovely exterior," he laughed, fear straining the sound.

"You are an amazing person. You're the only person I've wanted to be with, for years. I may be dense, but I'm not a bad judge of character, Draco." He leaned over Draco, looking him straight in the eye.

"What?" Draco whispered.

"This," Harry said, as he kissed Draco's lips.

Fin!


Lyrics from Digital Love, by Daft Punk on the (wonderful, amazing, life changing) album Discovery.