Bottom Draco One Shots !Drarry!

Loving Potter Was His Worst Mistake

“Fuck you, Potter” Draco mumbles, even though he knows Potter is right. He’ll always come back to get fucked into the mattress by the Boy-who-lived, as long as said man will have him.

***

It’s Sunday night, and Draco is sitting in the kitchen, looking over some papers for work. Work as a Healer isn’t only practical, there’s paperwork. Luckily, paperwork is easy to take home, a perfect distraction from his unfortunate situation with Potter.

When they first started having sex, Draco knew it was a bad idea. He had been infatuated with Potter in school, and then when they ran into each other at the pub, he was hit with how much he wanted to devour the man. But when Potter kissed him, a little drunk, Draco a little tipsy, and pushed Draco against the wall, ravishing his lips and neck, Draco thought he could have casual sex with Potter. Just a one-time thing, get it out of your system, and then move on.

“Fuck me, Potter” he’d gasped into the taller man’s ear and he’d felt Potter smile against his neck. A second later, Potter had had his wand out and was apparating them straight into his bedroom.

When Draco had woken up the next morning he’d slipped out before Potter could stir, and he’d known he couldn’t have casual sex, not with Harry Potter. Then Potter’s owl had come, Potter’s letter asking if maybe they could do something like that again, and Draco had given in. He’d made clear rules so that he wouldn’t get attached, they were fuckbuddies, not a couple, not friends, not anything. No strings, only sex. No feelings. Great plan, Draco. Worked like a dream... not.

As Draco’s distracting himself with paperwork, he hears the floo network swoosh to life, and he steels himself.

“Malfoy!” He hears Potter’s voice, and it sounds like he’s drunk. He is drunk. He comes stumbling into the kitchen, spotting Malfoy at the table, and then he’s grinning, a foolish, dazzling smile.

“Malfoy, let me fuck you?” The words aren’t a question, but the tone is.

“Good evening to you too, Potter. No, you cannot fuck me.” Draco sighs, and puts down his parchment.

“Why not, Malfoy?” Potter whines and Draco almost smile at how much he sounds like a needy child. “Is it because you have a boyfriend now? Is he better than me, Malfoy?” He gets closer to Draco as he speaks, stopping just in front of the chair where Draco is sat, towering over him.

“No, you git. It’s because you’re drunk. Why are you even drinking on a Sunday night?” Draco stands up from the chair and makes Potter sit down instead. He’s getting Potter some water and then sending him home.

“You’re leaving me for some prat at work. Why wouldn’t I drink?” Potter mutters, slurring his words a bit. The warm feeling that settles in the pit of Draco’s stomach is all kinds of wrong, but he can’t help it. Potter has gotten drunk due to being upset because he thinks Draco had gone on a date. He decides it’s the best lie he’s ever told, maybe excluding the one at the Manor, when he’d lied that he didn’t know if it was Potter or not. Excluding that lie, this was absolutely his best lie ever.

“I’m not dating anyone; it was a lousy date anyway,” Draco says as he hands Potter a tall glass of water. The smile that spreads on Potter's face lights up his whole face and makes him look simply captivating. As Potter sips his water Draco feels the hope awaken in him, not for the first time. There’s no chance that Potter likes him back, but moments like this make Draco hope despite that knowledge. And that hope is what’s going to crush him in the end.

“Come on, let’s get you home, Potter.” He says, pressing down the hope and helping the swaying Potter to his feet.

“No, I wanna stay here. Let me sleep with you, Malfoy.” Potter slurs; his breath heavy with the smell of firewhiskey.