Friday Evening
21 August 2009
Harry's POV
This is the second half of Chapter One, Introitus, if you want to read it "together" as an unbroken chapter.
I did include the last few lines of that chapter in italics if you don't feel like going back and reading it.
I ambled around for a bit, seeing as it was still pretty early. Only half-ten. Then, having walked aimlessly for what seemed an exorbitant amount of time, but which was, in all reality, only five minutes, I did what any normal, sloshed, slightly horny bloke would do.
I called another bloke.
"Hello?"
"Draco?"
"Harry?" I was, at this point, realising that this probably hadn't been my brightest idea, seeing as the last time I'd seen him, I'd left with another bloke.
And the time before that, I'd left him mid-blow job.
And now, here I was, calling him after just having left yet another bloke.
Honestly, I'd been determined to slut it up in an effort to forget Draco.
Forget his perfect cock, and his perfect face, with its perfect smile, and those stupid blue-grey eyes and the way they sparkled when he was laughing.
Forget his voice and the way he could command me to do anything he wanted.
Forget how beautiful he was when he let that Malfoy façade drop.
Forget how stupidly hot he was when he had it up.
"Why are you calling me? Where are you?"
"Inna street." I purposely didn't answer the first question.
"You don't say, Luv. Which one?"
Good question.
"Erm...." I glanced around, realising that I was in the middle of the street and, therefore, had no signs to help me out.
Draco was laughing now.
"Let me rephrase that. Can you find your way to mine? I'll send the address. Don't even try to apparate in your state."
"Think so...."
"Alright. I'll wait for you here, then." He paused. "How long do you think you'll be?"
"Erm..."
The laughter at my expense, it seemed, would never stop.
Luckily, it seemed to be of the amused and kind sort, as opposed to the amused and mean sort.
"Alright, then. I'll just put the kettle on and have a cuppa waiting for you when you get here."
"Mmm...soundsnice," I slurred.
"Start walking," he instructed, as though he somehow knew I'd stopped mid-stride whilst drooling over the thought of a strong cuppa.
And a stroopwafel, maybe.
I nearly began drooling, remembering the gooey, caramel treat melted over that cup of coffee, and I was hoping he'd think to top my cuppa with one.
"Yeah. Coming."
It took me only about twenty minutes to get to his flat, located in Mayfair, because, of course, Draco lived in Mayfair.
On Park Lane, bordering Hyde Park, no less.
I entered the building, thanking Merlin that it had a lift, and knocked loudly on his door. He answered, a glass of something dark and frothy in hand.
"Wassat?" I asked, indicating the glass.
"A pint," he replied, shutting the door behind me. "I figured I had some catching up to do," he added, winking.
"Well...'s gon' take a lot more'n that," I informed him, waving my hand at his glass.
He raised his brows and watched me make my way across the reception.
"Yes, I can see that."
I sprawled out on his sofa while Draco went off, presumably to the kitchen for the promised cuppa.
He appeared a bit later, sipping his pint and holding a steaming mug in the other hand.
"'M sorry," I told him earnestly, watching as he set the mug down on the coffee table and then sat on the floor between it and the couch.
"Don't be," he replied, shrugging. "It's not like I've never been sloshed myself."
I turned my head to look at him.
Our eyes were about level, and he seemed sincere.
He smiled again and reached out to brush some hair from my forehead.
"Rough night?" I nodded and leaned into his caress like an attention-starved kitten.
"Mm-hmmm."
His hand continued its path from my forehead, through my hair, the fingers curling themselves through my tangled locks, following the contour of my head, down my neck. Then back up to repeat the cycle.
"Did you want to talk about it?" He paused for one full cycle. "Or did you just want to banish it to the dregs of your memory?"
"Mmmm..." It seemed to be the only sound I could muster, having now progressed to that stage of drunkenness where consciousness was barely a reality.
"Mmm, it is, then," Draco responded, and I could hear the grin in his voice.
I snapped my eyes open and tried my best to look at him steadily.
"'M really sorry, y'know... fer callin' you like this."
Draco's hand was still making its rounds, and my eyes drifted shut again.
I was startled out of my peaceful murmurings by Draco tugging me upright.
"Come on. Drink your tea."
"Don' wanna," I informed him, shaking my head petulantly.
Draco rolled his eyes and held the mug up to me.
"You'll have wanted to come morning," he drawled, taking hold of my hand that was clutching the edge of the cushion.
"Now come on, drink up."
I looked down at him, sitting on the ground before me and once again, allowed my drunken brain to take control.
"You're bloody gorgeous."
I knew, even in my drunken state, that this was not something I necessarily wanted to be saying aloud.
Draco merely shoved the tea into my face again. He was still holding my hand, which I took to be a good sign.
"You're bloody sloshed," he countered.
"Yeh," I agreed, relenting and taking a sip of tea. "But we both 'lready knew that."
Draco raised an eyebrow.
"Yes, and we both already knew the former. Now hush and drink your tea."
This made me sort of laugh, and I struggled to keep my mouthful of tea.
"Cocky bastard," I managed to rasp out.
"And you love it," he winked.
He moved so that he was sitting beside me on the sofa, and I turned so that I could study his face, more specifically, his mouth, at close range.
"If I wern't drunk, I'd kiss you," I blurted out, again, spewing forth such gems that I would have most likely rather kept hidden.
Draco, thankfully, found this to be extremely amusing as he nearly doubled over in laughter.
"Oh, no," he gasped out, sitting up and relaxing on the plush sofa. "You wouldn't want to sully this pristine mouth in your current state."
I suspected he was joking but didn't get the joke.
I told him so, which earned me a strange look.
"Come on." He stood suddenly and spun to face me, grabbing my hands and hoisting me up.
"Off to bed for you."
I was lost immediately in his grey eyes, with their threads of light blue and green sparkling as he grinned down at me, and I found myself grinning in return.
"Where you can sober up and then, maybe, kiss me silly tomorrow."
He leaned forward and brushed his lips across mine, despite what he'd just said, and I leaned in eagerly.
Hell if I was going to remind him that said kissing would come tomorrow.
He broke away before I could actually latch onto him, and my alcohol-sodden brain finally caught up to what was going on.
"I'm sleeping here?"
Draco was halfway across the room at this point, and he turned to look at me.
"I have a guest room, Potter," he reminded me, and my mood sank a bit.
"Oh. Right."
I shuffled my way across the room, and Draco grabbed my hand, turning so as to better drag me down the hall to that door on the far right.
He pushed it open, pulling me into the empty room.
It was cosy, a large bed covered with pillows and a fluffy duvet taking up the majority of the space, set facing a window overlooking the brick buildings opposite.
A small desk and chest of drawers sat just beneath the windows, and a TV was hung from an adjustable wall mount in the corner, angled toward the bed.
"Put those on. You'll be more comfortable."
Draco threw a pair of striped pyjama bottoms at me.
Since I was drunk, I did not catch them.
I didn't even try. Just stooped over to grab them up and concentrated on getting myself out of my clothes for the second time that evening.
He left the room without saying a word, leaving me to my struggle and wondering what the hell he was up to.
By the time he returned, I'd only just managed to get myself into the pyjamas and had flung myself down on the bed.
He was carrying a glass of liquid. A big one which he set on the nightstand beside me.
"It's a hangover potion," he clarified, and I thanked the gods that Draco had always been much more gifted at potions than I'd ever been.
"Do you think you'll be ok, or should I get a dustbin?"
I shook my head, then realised this didn't quite answer his question.
"I'll be fine. Thanks."
I sat up and gulped the potion down, making a face as I braced myself for the taste.
"Mmm," I said, blinking up at him in surprise. "That actually tastes good."
I finished the potion and began to curl up on the bed, but Draco reached down to tug me upright again.
"Wha?" I'd been comfortable and already drifting off.
"Let's at least pull the covers down, Harry," he soothed, pulling me into his arms.
"Mmm-k," I sighed, snuggling into his chest, breathing in the now-familiar scent of him.
Draco pulled away, moving to pull the duvet and sheets back.
He tugged at my hand, pulling me towards him, laying me gently on the mattress, pulling the covers up to my chest.
I reached up, automatically wrapping my arms around his neck, trying to pull him towards me, but he resisted, one hand reaching up to remove first one arm, then the other.
"Bed, Harry," he ordered, eyes not quite meeting mine.
"Snuggle me," I insisted, flipping over onto my side, still gazing up at him.
He didn't respond immediately, throat working, eyes still not quite meeting mine.
"I think you've rather had enough snuggling with some other bloke tonight, Harry," he said finally, standing and striding from the room.