Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Draco/Harry, past Draco/Astoria and Harry/Ginny, background Ron/Hermione
Word Count: ~2,950
Content/Warnings: auror partners, first times, frottage, drunk!sex, floor!sex
Summary: Harry and Draco celebrate their respective divorces.
Notes: This is my first stab at writing the boys more epilogue-compliant. Definitely interesting trying to play around with the different dynamic! Thanks to capitu and lauren3210 for looking this over for me! I played around with it a bit since, so all remaining mistakes are my own.
50 Reasons to Have Sex Masterlist
Read on AO3
Harry scanned the Friday night crowd, nodding when he caught sight of Draco's distinctive blond hair at the corner table. He felt a familiar warmth spread through him as he caught Draco's eye to let him know he'd arrived and signaling that he was heading over to the bar.
A few minutes later he was walking over with a bottle of Firewhisky in one hand and two shot glasses in the other.
Draco raised his eyebrows. "I take it we're getting drunk tonight. What's the special occasion?"
"We're celebrating," Harry replied, sliding into the booth and pouring the Firewhisky into the glasses.
"And what exactly are we celebrating? We've been partners for fifteen years, and I've never seen you celebrate with an entire bottle of Firewhisky."
Harry smiled grimly. "My divorce."
Draco flashed him a sympathetic smile. "Well how's that for timing. Mine went through earlier this week." He reached over and grabbed one of the glasses, and Harry hastened to do the same. "To new beginnings," Draco said with a roll of his eyes, clinking his glass against Harry's before downing it in one go. Harry quickly followed suit, relishing the burn of the alcohol as it slid down his throat.
Harry frowned, pouring out another shot. "But you filed ages ago."
They both downed the second shot. "Yes, but Astoria kept dragging things out." Draco scowled, this time grabbing the bottle himself and pouring.
They spent the next few hours the way they usually did during their Friday evening unwinding sessions, talking about work and their kids and Quidditch. But this week there was a lot more drinking involved and they carefully avoided anything wife and marriage related.
It wasn't until several hours later, that Draco broke their unspoken agreement.
"Did you want to talk about it?" Draco asked, tone surprisingly sincere. "You never did tell me why you two decided to split up."
Harry bit his lip and toyed with his glass. The divorce was amicable; neither of them had been happy and they both realized that they weren't getting what they needed from the relationship. So he was surprised at the pang he'd felt when he'd received the owl telling him the divorce was official. Ginny had been a part of him for so long; she was his first love, the mother of his children, and knowing that she was no longer his filled him with a bitter longing, even though he knew she wasn't right for him anymore.
He looked up uncertainly into Draco's searching eyes, not sure if discussing things would really help. Not to mention the fact that he wasn't altogether sure he was ready to talk about the other deciding factor in their divorce... Draco shrugged, likely sensing his indecision, and tilted his head back, tipping the amber shot into his mouth, throat bobbing smoothly as he swallowed. Harry blinked rapidly, dragging his eyes away from Draco and focusing on his own slightly blurry shot.
"Maybe later," Harry muttered. "What about you? You never really told me about you and Astoria either."
"Yes, well, our marriage was arranged, you know. We didn't love each other in the beginning. And I thought – " Draco played with the firewhiskey cap. "I was doing my duty. I figured the love would come later, that my lack of…enthusiasm was just nerves. But, after twenty years, Astoria got rather tired of waiting for me to fall in love with her, especially when she had a dashing frenchman who was already there."
"So you didn't love her?" Harry asked hesitantly. "Do you think that's made things easier?"
"Yes," Draco snorted, pouring himself another measure of Firewhisky. "And no. I may not have been in love with her, but she gave me Scorpius and she was….familiar. Without a wife, without my duty…" Draco trailed off, staring thoughtfully into the distance before shaking himself and downing his shot. "I've found it's much harder to ignore the truth when I don't have a marriage to hide behind."
Harry gulped before hastily reaching for the bottle. Draco's words were hitting a bit too close to home. "The truth?"
"The truth." Draco gave a bitter laugh. "That apparently my lack of enthusiasm on my wedding night had less to do with nerves and more to do with the fact that I had married a woman."
Harry's eyes widened and he was grateful he hadn't been drinking right then because he was sure he would've spit it out in shock. Draco was – oh god. He poured them both another shot, head pounding as the Firewhisky rushed hot through his veins. "So you prefer blokes then?" Harry asked, and immediately wanted to bang his head against the table. Smooth, Harry. He grabbed his drink and practically threw it into the back of his mouth, trying hard not to choke as the fiery liquid slid down his throat.
"Is that a problem?" Draco asked, expression and tone steely.
"N – No," Harry stuttered. "Actually, that, erm, played a bit of a part with me and Gin, too."
"Really?" Draco asked, immediately interested. He leaned over the table with a shocking lack of grace, inviting confession.
"Ginny was kind enough to hypothesize that I wasn't as straight as I thought I was. She was right."
Harry grimaced, thinking about Ginny's actual accusations. About how he spent way too much time working at the office with Draco, how Ron didn't seem to feel the need to extol the virtues of his partner at every opportunity, how apparently Harry's face seemed to light up whenever he was talking to Draco, and his eyes seemed to be glued to him whenever he was in the room. Harry had never really found himself attracted to other men, but he couldn't deny that his feelings for Draco went far beyond platonic. That had been the last straw really, when Harry had finally acknowledged his feelings for Draco, when he'd realized that just the thought of seeing him sent his heart racing in a way that even kissing Ginny no longer did.
Draco looked intrigued. "So have you ever…with a man?" He asked, leaning in conspiratorily as he poured them another round.
Harry's mouth dropped open. "No! I only just got my divorce. When exactly do you think I've had time to get off?" He downed the shot, frowning. "Wait, have you?"
Draco's cheeks turned pink. "I may not have loved my wife the way she deserved, but I was never unfaithful."
Harry sighed and poured another drink, staring at a clearly inebriated Draco. Well, clearly to him anyways. Harry could tell by the flush of his skin, and the slight glassiness of his eyes, the way his hand gestures went a bit too large, and the openness of his expression. Harry marveled at the fact that he could see every thought and emotion written clearly across Draco's face. He was normally so careful with what he gave away, even with Harry, who he was more comfortable around than most. But apparently alcohol broke down some of that stony façade. He wasn't sure if anybody else would've thought Draco was even tipsy, but Harry knew Draco, and the thought made him smile.
"What are you smiling about?" Draco asked with narrowed eyes.
"Nothing," Harry laughed. "Just thinking about how funny life is sometimes. What were you just ranting about?"
Draco huffed, but continued, gesticulating wildly. "I was just saying that now I'm forty-one, divorced, apparently gay, and I have no bloody clue what to do about it. It's not like I can just pop off to the clubs anymore. Do people even still go clubbing?"
"S'good point," Harry said, the words feeling soft and round in his mouth.
"And I can't just walk up to every fit man I encounter and proposition them." Draco looked legitimately distressed. "I've never dated anybody. I mean, my only serious relationship has been with my wife and that was arranged. We barely even knew each other before we got married. Oh Salazar, I'm going to die alone aren't I?"
Harry couldn't help his laugh, but quickly tried to control himself when he noticed how upset Draco looked. "Well aren't you a maudlin drunk."
"M'not drunk!" Draco glared at him.
"You're not going to die alone, Draco. You may be over forty, but you're still fit, it's all the – the – the auroring. Don't look a day over thirty! Any bloke would be lucky to have you, honest!" Harry spoke earnestly, desperately needing Draco to know how amazing he was.
"Well, I suppose that's true," Draco conceded slowly, as if unsure if Harry was somehow making fun with all the compliments.
"You know, Harry. I think you might be drunk." Draco leaned in as if to whisper, but the words came out closer to a yell.
Harry smiled. "I think you might be right. Maybe it's time to call it a night." He looked at his watch and grimaced. "Here's hoping I can sneak in without waking up Hugo. Otherwise Ron and 'Mione are going to kill me."
Draco's brow furrowed.
"I'm staying with them until I can find a new flat," Harry explained.
"Ah. You can always stay over at my place tonight if you'd like?" Draco offered casually. It took Harry a moment to process his words though, as he was too busy watching Draco struggle adorably to get his arms into his coat.
Harry's heart thumped loudly when Draco's offer finally sunk in. It didn't mean anything, they were friends, this was just Draco offering his drunk partner a place to crash.
"Sure," he finally managed, proud that his voice managed to stay fairly even throughout the entire one-syllable word.
Draco grinned and led the way to the Floo, apparently completely unaware of the effect his words had had on Harry. He watched as Draco disappeared into the green flames and mentally prepared himself for the trip – he had problems with Floo travel when he was sober – before grabbing a handful of powder and calling out "Draco Malfoy's flat."
Unsurprisingly, he ungracefully stumbled his way out of the fireplace on the other side. What was surprising, however, was the solid body he collided with. The impact sent them both to the floor, Harry flat on his back with Draco braced above him. The room was dark, but there was a light on in a nearby room, the shadowy glow barely illuminating Draco's face above his own.
Harry couldn't move. Draco's eyes were deep and fathomless as they looked down on him, his face stark and beautiful in the darkness. He could feel every point of contact between them like lightning, Draco's body large and solid, and undeniably male. If Harry hadn't already known he was attracted to Draco beforehand, this would have cemented it. Harry could feel his cock hardening in his trousers and blushed, hoping like hell it wouldn't be obvious in the dark and trying to think of a way to extricate himself from this position without Draco becoming aware of his inappropriate reaction.
Draco shifted slightly above him, and Harry bit his lip on a moan as the motion dragged Draco's firm thigh against his now fully hard prick. But that wasn't all it did, and this time Harry couldn't hold back his gasp as he realized what that hardness pressing against his belly was. Harry looked up at Draco, eyes wide and mouth open on a question he wasn't sure how to ask.
The grey eyes looking down at him seemed to darken, Draco's face hardening with some kind of resolve. And then Draco was moving, hands braced on either side of Harry's head, straddling Harry's left leg as he began rolling his hips against Harry's. Harry moaned, not bothering to stop it this time as his hands reached up to grab a handful of Draco's arse, pulling Draco harder down into him as he rocked up to meet him, the friction making his eyes roll back into his head.
"Fuck," Draco whispered. "Fuck."
Harry laughed, the alcohol and pleasure making him giddy. "I don't think we can manage that right now."
Draco looked down at him in surprise before barking out a laugh. "I think you might be – right," he panted. His blond hair was loose and a bit wild, falling into his face as he continued his hard, steady pace. He was so much stronger than Ginny, the power of his thrusts pushing Harry firmly against the floor. Harry couldn't help but imagine them in a slightly altered scenario, the two of them naked on a bed, Draco moving between his thighs, sweat soaked skin sliding together, those powerful hips slamming into Harry's as his hard cock slid deep inside... Harry whimpered, mouth going dry and heart racing at the thought.
"Do you – do you think we could manage kissing?" He asked, desperately hoping that he wasn't crossing some sort of line.
"I think we can handle that," Draco whispered, leaning down excruciatingly slowly and pressing his lips softly against Harry's. Harry groaned as he surged up, one hand sliding up Draco's back to tangle in his hair, pressing him close. The kiss was not as skilled as it probably should have been for two men in their forties, but Draco's mouth was warm and wet and enthusiastic against his own and that was all that Harry could care about anyways. The pleasure built, the gorgeous friction of Draco's cloth-covered erection rubbing against his own, the feel of Draco's arse in his palm, the way it flexed and clenched as he moved against Harry, and Draco's tongue, licking it's way into Harry's panting mouth, making him shiver as it hit him that he was having sex with a man. With Draco.
He lasted only a few more thrusts before he was undone, coming in his pants like a teenager, writhing on the floor of Draco Malfoy's flat. Draco swore and continued moving just a few moments more before gasping his way through his own release.
Draco pushed sideways, laying back next to Harry on the floor as they both caught their breath. The sweat was cooling on Harry's skin, making him miss the solid warmth of Draco's body. Though he was thankful, at least, for the warmth radiating out from where Draco's arm was touching his own.
"So," Harry began, before realizing that he didn't actually have anything else to follow up with. He wanted to ask what exactly had just happened? What did it mean? Did Draco want Harry just as badly as Harry wanted him? Or was it just a one-off as he rebounded from his broken marriage? "That was unexpected."
"Well then I don't think you've been paying attention," Draco said primly, before utterly ruining the effect with a rather uncoordinated attempt at standing. Harry supposed he had a point. There was always something there between them; it made sense that he wasn't the only one who picked up on it. God knows Ginny sure had. He smiled as he watched Draco make several more attempts to right himself – it wasn't often that he got to see Draco anything less than graceful – before pulling himself up. Groaning, he worked on stretching out the kinks, thinking ruefully that he was probably too old to be rolling around on the floor, especially when there were perfectly good beds just down the hall. Harry cast a quick cleaning spell on his sticky trousers, watching as Draco made similar motions next to him.
He looked at Draco, trying to take his cues from him on where he should be sleeping for the night, hoping that it would be in Draco's bed. Draco's face was unreadable and Harry shifted nervously. He was just about to open his mouth and ask when Draco spoke.
"Oh come on then, let's get to bed before we fall over." Draco grabbed Harry's hand as he walked past, leading him down the hall as Harry tried to control his fluttering heartbeat.
Draco opened the door to his room, stripping unashamedly down to his pants before climbing into bed, leaving Harry standing a little stunned by the door.
"Are you joining me?" Draco asked. Harry's heart swelled, because Draco may have been going for casual, but Harry could hear the uncertainty beneath it, telling him that Draco was nervous too. He nodded, peeling off his own clothes, and sliding in next to Draco.
He lay back, keeping himself perfectly still and straight on his side of the bed, unsure of the protocol. When he and Ginny had first started sharing a bed, they had tangled up together every night, her long, red hair spilling over him, arms and legs entwined. But as they'd gotten older and grown apart, the distance in their bed had grown, until it was strange to touch at all in the night. It was one of the things he hadn't realized he missed so much, that closeness, wanting to be with somebody so much that even sleep couldn't part you. Was Draco like that? Or did he prefer his space? Draco answered that unspoken question a few moment later, his hands pulling at Harry, dragging him until he was half sprawled on Draco's chest, their legs slotting together beneath the sheets.
Harry relaxed into Draco, mind going pleasantly blank as all the worries about what the hell came next faded into the background
He could worry about that tomorrow.