Meet me at Midnight - drarry fic

Draco i: morning breath

Hey! Fanchickshion13 here. This is my first fic, so it's pretty awful. I'm so nervous to post it and I don't even know why lmao. Feel free to give feedback and tell me what you think. The chapters are very short, but this is only meant to be a very short fic, so be prepared for only small bits of story at a time. Hope you enjoy this weird creation, and I'll leave you to it.

'Tis the witching hour of the night, orbed is the moon and bright. And the stars they glisten, glisten, seeming with bright eyes to listen - for what listen they?'
•John Keats•

Draco woke up, mouth foggy with possibly the worst case of morning breath known to man. His head felt like someone was riding a tap-dancing horse while playing a drum inside his skull.
I have physically never been this hungover.
Which is saying something.
He had no recollection of where he was or what had made him end up in a bed that wasn't his own, with someone else, their arms loosely draped across him, head buried in his shoulder, in only his underwear. Keen to discover his mysterious bed-sharer and to piece together last nights events, Draco cracked open his eyelids and gasped.
I shouldn't be surprised.
It was Potter. Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit-
Last night rushed back to him - that bar, the drunken walk back to Potter's apartment then - NO. That couldn't have happened. Harry bloody Potter - NO. He needed to get out of here.
Draco removed himself from Potter's arms and began frantically pulling on his clothes, which were strewn across the room haphazardly. He was almost dressed when he realised he couldn't find his shirt. Potter was wearing it.
Fuck.
His mind began skipping over his options - wake Potter up? No. Wear one of his shirts? No. Leave this apartment shirtless? Definitely no. But before he could make a decision, Potter yawned and opened his eyes.
           "Malfoy..? What happened..? And why am I wearing your - oh no it's fine, I remember. Are you o-"
"NO IM NOT BLOODY OK. WHY WOULD I BE OK?!"
Why was he screaming? He needed to stay calm. He was Draco Malfoy - a man with a reputation to protect.
What's left of it, at least.
"Um - could I...have my shirt back?"  This was not going well. Potter appeared confused:
"Don't you want to...talk? About..last night,"
No. No I bloody don't.
"I mean, you said some...stuff."
Shit.
"No, I'm quite alright. Just want my shirt and I'll be gone."
Potter stood up, glasses askew on his nose, hair set in a serious case of bed head. "Draco, we need to talk. You can't just leave me without some sort of explanation."
"First off: it's Malfoy. Not Draco, never will be. And yes, actually, I can. And I'm going to, right after you give me my shirt."
Bloody hell this hurt. He should stay - but there was no point. The second he realised who's arms he was in, he knew he was screwed.
       Potter just would not give up. "Well then, Malfoy, I guess you'll have to get it off me then."
"I don't have time for this." Draco muttered. Potter smirked. "Neither do I. Get the shirt, Malfoy." Rolling his eyes, Draco stepped  forward so he could reach Potter - and spun around. Potter was halfway across the room, choking with laughter, "I said get the shirt, Malfoy!"
"Shut up." Draco yelled, leaping over the bed to reach him. He couldn't stop laughing. "Make me." Potter climbed on top of the dresser, eyes shining.
"I hate you!"
"That's not what you said last ni-"
Too far.
"GIVE ME THE BLOODY SHIRT. IT WAS A MISTAKE, OKAY?!"
Crestfallen, Potter climbed off the dresser and approached Draco. "You can't just walk out of here. I know I joke about it, but I need to know where we stand. If last night was a mistake, tell me, and we can forget about it. But I need to know."
Always the good guy, aren't you?
Draco took a deep breath. This was the right thing. He knew it was. (Even if the fact Potter had now taken off his shirt was incredibly distracting and making him question this decision.) " It was a mistake. You have a girlfriend, we're meant to hate each other. It was a mistake."
It wasn't.
"Let's just forget about it. Pass my shirt, Potter."
Don't pass the shirt tell me that you know it wasn't a mistake and that I'm lying tell me you don't care that you have a girlfriend tell me it's okay-
"'Kay. Guess I'll see you around, Malfoy." With that, he handed Draco the shirt and walked out of the room, leaving the door open behind him.
       Draco walked into the kitchen after him. He couldn't stop himself. "You left something." He passed Harry his glasses. "Thanks." For some reason, this got on Draco's nerves. He breathed out a small puff of air angrily. "You ok?"
"Yes. Completely fine. Always am." He snapped, still no idea why he was so angry. He was desperate for Harry to rise to it, get angry back at him.
Prove me right.
Show me you don't care.
Let me leave without this stupid guilt.
Harry stepped back, brow furrowed. "Listen, I don't know what's up with you, but you don't have to be mad at me."
Maybe I don't, but you should be.
I come back, and immediately mess up your life.
Stop being so damn nice!
"Yes I do. And you have to be mad at me. That's how it works. We hate each other."
"No we don't!"
"I think you will find you are mistaken there." Draco almost spat. He walked out, not bothering to close the door behind him.