The Firewhisky In The Punch

A/N: Okay, I think this is the longest crack!fic I've written and that is only because I got stuck on this one. It's a good quote for a fiction, but I didn't know how to go about it. I knew the scene I would put it in, but what the situation would be...that I was stumped on. So, I got an idea of what to write, but it needed background info. Hence, the length of this story. Sorry. Anywho, use the quote to your heart's content my fellow authors! Oh, and it is from the movie Transformers with Shia Labeouf.

Quote: Stop lubricating the man.

Story: Lubricating

Harry would readily admit to being an asshole. However, he would then argue that he was an asshole because his so called best friends had completely abandoned him when he refused to help anyone after the war. It wasn't that they thought it was his job to help anyone; they just assumed he would keep helping every Tom, Dick, and, well, Harry, under the sun, in Britain, because they thought he needed to help people. Certainly, all those years in school, he'd run headlong into any situation if he thought someone needed help.

Yet after two years of helping of everyone (he'd done it only because, yes, he couldn't help that instinct of his) following his defeat of Voldemort, he realized that he wasn't Harry anymore. He was Harry Potter and...he wasn't living. He rather felt like a superhero from a comic who couldn't live a normal life because he was looking for the next victim to save.

So, he started dating and yes, drinking and smoking pot to help keep his natural instinct to save on the backburner. Ron and Hermione, when he told them, thought that he'd gone round the bend. He understood, but when he said he was ready for a change, they'd changed toward him. Them, and the majority of the wizarding world.

So, Harry had said "fuck 'em", and decided to really let go. Not to the point where he was making stupid mistakes and hurting everyone, including himself. He wasn't stupid. The fact remained, though, as he sat in his flat after his big blow up with his "friends", that while everyone had drank and partied in school, he hadn't.

He had missed out on a lot.

That was when he had found his first gay club and, well, he hadn't looked back since.

Ginny had been upset and Harry understood why. After all, he'd been dating her since he'd started living his life. However, when she had followed him one night and met Daphne Greengrass, she'd stopped complaining and fussing. Something about him having been right the whole time.

Regardless, it was at one of those clubs that he'd met Draco Malfoy again. Looking absolutely edible in blue jeans 2 sizes too small and a short sleeved, linen button up that was open. The nipple rings shined every time the strobe lights flashed by and he was glistening from sweat (really brilliant of the club owners, not having air conditioning). He was dancing (sort of...) with his back against another male, one arm wrapped around the other man's neck, showing off his muscled torso very nicely.

Harry had to have him.

So, in a show of testosterone, he had gone over and claimed what was "his". He moved through the crowd to Draco and put his hands on Draco's hips. Draco didn't acknowledge the touch so Harry pushed so close that their erections lined up very nicely. Draco finally opened his eyes, half mast, and raised an eyebrow, eyes roaming up and down Harry's body. The other man was watching, mildly interested, but when Harry mouthed, "fuck off", the man had shrugged and moved away.

"My place or yours?" Harry had asked.

Draco shrugged so Harry took the blond man back to his flat.

He knew from that one night (during which he realized how hard and how much he could come) that he would never be the same. Night after night, week after week, found the two former rivals fucking as much as they could and in every position and every location they could.

It also lead them to this point.

Harry had worked Draco up to a near frenzy with the foreplay and teasing and had just gotten the lube from the couch cushions to prepare his lover for the intense fuck he was craving. Someone had been knocking on the door for some time, but Harry decided it wasn't as important as fucking his lover. Besides, if it was an emergency, the Floo was open.

He didn't count on Hermione, however. The door opened and a bushy haired whirlwind stormed in. It stopped dead when it realized what Harry was doing.

"Hey, Hermione," Harry said casually. This was one of those moments where he would admit that he was an arsehole, but he hadn't seen Draco in a couple of days. For them, that was like a couple of years and he really, really needed to fuck the living daylights out of Draco.

She huffed and shook her head. "I need to talk to you!"

"Okay," he said, still not stopping what he was doing. "So, what's up?"

"It's about--For Merlin's sake, Harry! Stop lubricating the man!" Hermione yelled.

Draco looked up from where he had been letting Harry play with his arse and raised his eyebrow. "Unless this is a life or death situation, Granger, please, don't stop him from lubricating me."

Hermione had opened and closed her mouth several times as Harry continued preparing his lover. "I came here because Ron has been absolutely miserable these last months and I wanted to see if we could talk about what happened."

Harry sighed and reluctantly stopped playing with Draco's arse. Draco groaned in disappointment. "All right. Fine. I'll be free..." He was going to say tomorrow but then he knew he would be still fucking Draco at that point to make up for the drought they'd had when Draco had been away for business and made a mental calculation for when he'd be available.

"Friday. Okay? And next time, if you don't get an answer at the door, come back at another time. Please?"

Hermione sighed and looked at Draco darkly before nodding. "All right. Friday. And if you don't show up, I will barge in again. Got it?" Without waiting for a reply, she stormed out again.

Draco sighed. "I think you need to start lubricating the man again."

Harry laughed and gladly did so. After all, he loved to lubricate Draco. It was almost as good as the fucking. Almost.