Potter went to work the next day. Which was utterly beyond belief, as far as Draco was concerned.

He coped by spending the day with Mary. He did Mary's shopping for her first and then settled in to watch her programs with her and eat biscuits with weak sweet tea. He couldn't keep up with Coronation street, which often had long, convoluted storylines, but he adored listening to Mary's excited recaps. The comedies were more his speed. Draco liked being able to just laugh and not think.

Elle joined them during Father Ted, hearing Draco's laughter through Mary's open window. And Samuel showed up after his shift, squeezing onto the middle of Mary's tiny couch between Draco and Elle to watch a panel chat show. They all pitched in for fish and chips from a small local chippy down the street and laid the bag across Mary's little coffee table, chips tumbling out of the greasy waxed bags as they shared around.

Mary dozed off in her little gliding rocker, her gentle snores keeping them company as they watched some sort of mystery program. Draco wasn't following it terribly well, half-asleep himself, leaning against Samuel's shoulder. Elle was pressed to Samuel's other side, hugging a faded floral pillow to her chest as she watched the show. Samuel seemed the most interested, guessing what would happen next and mostly being right. None of them had a telly; Samuel and Elle preferred books, and Draco preferred company, but occasionally they all managed to come together and watch a few shows at Mary's like this. They were always Draco's favourite sorts of days.

Draco left when everyone else did, promising Mary he would visit again soon, waving as Samuel headed into his flat, giving Elle a hug before she went upstairs. He remained in the centre of the courtyard, standing perfectly still until he heard Elle's door close.

It was quiet. If he strained his ears, Draco could just barely hear cars passing by on the road outside, and even then, part of him thought it might just be in his head. His mind gently twisting the sound of his own blood pumping in his ears into something alive and real, so he wouldn't feel so alone.

Draco patted his jeans down until he found what was left of his battered pack of cigarettes. He finished out a bent cigarette, lighting it with his wand, hunched over slightly to hide what he was doing. He breathed in too deeply, making his lungs and throat burn, his eyes watering and fighting to keep himself from coughing. Draco pressed his wand back into his pocket, a simple extension charm holding his wand in a space the size of a pound coin. He wondered, with a bitter smile as he took another drag, if the Ministry would also call this misuse of muggle artefacts since he bought them in a muggle shop.

Draco closed his eyes, rocking onto the balls of his feet. He was already feeling it grow, that gnawing ache that lived in the centre of him. And with it, the desire to find a bar, a club, somewhere full of life and warmth, and alcohol to soften the jagged edges.

Draco flicked the butt onto the ground, ground it with the toe of his shoe, and went around to the back of the building to apparate back to Potter's flat.

The flat was dark when he arrived. And Draco almost apparated right back out before spotting a light coming from Potter's bedroom. He pushed open Potter's door and stepped inside.

Potter looked up from where he had been sitting on the edge of his bed, still wearing his work clothes.

"You're here," Draco said.

"It's late; I was going to bed," Potter said stupidly.

"Yes, well, it's rather hit or miss with you, isn't it?" Draco said.

"If we're keeping count, you're later than me half the time," Potter said.

Draco rolled his eyes, "Yes, but..."

"But, what?" Potter prompted.

Draco hesitated, unwilling to admit how much he hated that night that Potter had left for some emergency work thing, how dark and empty he had felt and how much he completely and utterly despised feeling that way. He forced a scoff, "As if I'm just going to wait around in your dingy little flat."

Potter looked unconvinced, so Draco added, "I have better things to do."

"Right, well..." Potter looked down at his hands and seemed to come to a decision. "I'm taking tomorrow off."

Draco grinned, crossing the room to Potter's side, "I knew it. I knew whatever work you had today would be bullshit."

Potter huffed a laugh.

Draco straddled Potter's lap, wiggling close as his knees sank into the soft layer of blankets.

Potter's hands caught Draco by the hips, to keep them from tipping over, "What's this?"

"A celebration, obviously," Draco said.

"Yours or mine?" Potter asked.

"Both," Draco said as he combed his fingers through Potter's hair.

Potter unconsciously leaned his head into Draco's touch, and the small movement made Draco feel like he couldn't breathe.

"I suppose I'm supposed to be celebrating having a day off," Potter said, "So what are you celebrating?"

"Being right," Draco said.

Potter laughed.

"And getting to have you for a whole day," Draco said.

Potter's expression softened, and he tilted his head up to kiss Draco.

Draco leaned into Potter, giving Potter's hair a gentle tug as he kissed him, eliciting a soft hum of pleasure.

Then Potter frowned, "You taste like cigarettes."

Draco rolled his eyes, "I taste like a cigarette." He leaned forward, hoping for another kiss, but Potter just tipped his head away.

"Nope," Potter said.

Draco affected a pout.

"I'm not kissing an ashtray," Potter said.

"I didn't eat it," Draco said.

"Go brush your teeth. It's late and I'm tired," Potter said.

Draco huffed a sigh, "Fine, keep your pants on."

Draco went to the bathroom, quickly brushing his teeth and washing his face before returning to Potter's bedroom. The lights were already off. Draco cast a floating lumos that hovered near the ceiling, bathing the room in a pale blue light.

"What-?" Potter said, grabbing his glasses from the bedside table and fumbling them on.

"I will be staying here tonight," Draco said matter-of-factly.

"I don't-"

"I told you to keep your pants on, didn't I?" Draco said, ignoring him, "I meant literally. Not that I mind if you're naked, but you probably do."

"I am not, it's just- it's...

He went over to Potter's laundry basket. Keeping his back to Potter, Draco took off his clingy tight black shirt and pulled on a t-shirt from the bottom of the basket. It was far too large for Draco, or Potter for that matter, the hem going down to his thighs. Draco pushed off his jeans and kicked them into the laundry basket.

"...different," Potter's voice faded to a whisper.

Draco pulled the collar of the shirt up over his nose, breathing in the smell of Potter.

Potter was staring at him with a slightly strangled expression that made Draco feel very pleased with himself.

Draco walked over to the other side of the bed.

"W-wait-" Potter held up a hand, "wait."

"What? I left my briefs on," Draco lifted the edge of the t-shirt to show him.

Potter looked away, flushed and annoyed, as he scrubbed his hand through his hair, "...you're going to be the death of me," he muttered.

"I doubt I'd be so lucky," Draco said pleasantly. He pulled back the edge of the covers and went to sit.

"Malfoy," Potter said, a warning edge to his voice. "You- you know I've never been with a bloke before, right?"

Draco sighed at him, "I never said we were going to fuck. I do other things."

"That's not what I meant," Potter said.

Draco sat on the bed and put his legs under the blankets. He wasn't going to sleep alone; he wasn't sure he could survive it. "So don't touch me."

"That's also not what I meant," Potter sighed.

Draco laid back on the mattress, filled with the sudden regret that he hadn't brought his- Potter's- other pillow with him.

Potter tucked the blanket tighter around his waist before grabbing his wand off the side table, "Accio pillow."

There was a pof sound as something soft hit the door, the momentum slowly easing the door open until the pillow could fly through and into Potter's hand.

"Here," Potter dropped the pillow onto Draco's face.

Draco laughed, too pleased to complain, pulling the pillow down and hugging it to his chest.

Potter huffed almost fondly at Draco, even as he tried to hide it.

"What did you mean then?" Draco said.

"What did I- Oh, you mean earlier?" Potter said.

"Yes, obviously," Draco said.

"It's just, when I was with-" Potter stopped.

"The Girl Weasley," Draco finished for him.

"Her name is Ginny," Potter said.

"I know," Draco said. He wasn't sure he'd ever be able to say it. "You were with her for years or something."

Potter nodded slowly.

"Was it just her?" Draco asked, and wondered why stupid things were always coming out of his mouth.

"Yeah," Potter said.

Draco took a deep breath and let it all out at once. He knew he had no right to be jealous, not of her. She was made for Potter, his perfect partner. "Go on then; what about her?"

"We were friends first, and she was Ron's sister before even that," Potter said slowly, carefully picking out his words. "It was easy in a way. I didn't know that then, not till now, anyway."

Draco snorted, "As if I would ever make anything in your life easier, Potter."

Potter rolled his eyes.

Draco stayed quiet, wondering what Potter would say next, even though he knew it would hurt him.

Potter continued, "But we were... fucked up by the war. Everything happened so fast. We were scared and hurt and trying to heal by clinging to one another," He spread his hands in his lap, looking at them in the pale blue light. "...It was a mess."

"It couldn't have been that bad; you stayed together," Draco said dryly.

Potter huffed, "Yeah, but only because Gin went back to Hogwarts for her last year. And by the time she was back, I was busy with the aurors. I thought about taking time off, but Gin was scouted by the Harpies, so she was as busy as I was, doing all the training camps and whatnot. We were more roommates that fucked than lovers, especially at the end. It wasn't all that surprising when she told me she was moving out."

"A bit anti-climatic," Draco said.

"Yeah. Yeah, I guess it was," Potter sighed, "Sorry, I shouldn't be going on about an ex. It's probably last thing you want to hear. I didn't mean anything by it."

Draco had to roll his eyes, "It must have meant something; otherwise, why bring it up?"

Potter paused, and Draco could practically see him replaying the conversation and trying to remember his own point. Draco laughed and earned a distracted swat at his shoulder from Potter.

"...I don't want to rush things this time," Potter said.

Draco pressed his face into the pillow. Of course, Potter was taking things seriously again. It was almost more than Draco could stand.

"...Malfoy?" Potter asked.

Draco sighed and forced himself to relax, to let go of the pillow and answer honestly. More or less. "I had been thinking of a snog mostly."

"What?" Potter asked.

"Before," Draco said, "I just wanted to snog your brains out."

Potter looked meaningfully at Draco lying in his bed.

"What? I didn't want to sleep alone. Do you have a problem with that?" Draco snapped.

Potter blinked. "That's it?"

"Yes, you fucking dunce," Draco said.

"Oh," Potter said.

"God, you think me quite the slut don't you?" Draco said bitterly.

"No-" Potter started.

"Don't lie," Draco said. "It doesn't suit you."

"I lie all the time," Potter said.

"I don't doubt that," Draco said, "but don't do it to me. You've never minced words with me before, don't fucking start now."

Potter hesitated, "... I don't think you're a slut, you- you just seemed to have a lot of partners... before."

Draco shrugged one shoulder. "I didn't have anyone to cling to after the war. I made do."

"I'm- I'm sorry," Potter said.

"Blech," Draco said, exaggerating his expression to be as disgusted as possible. "Fuck off with that."

"But-"

"If you feel sorry for me, for even a second, I'm leaving," Draco said.

Potter shook his head, "You make everything difficult."

"The pot says to the kettle," Draco said.

Potter sighed and raised his wand again, pointing it at the dresser, "Accio pants."

The dresser drawer rattled ominously, wiggling open to allow pants, after pants, after pants through, flying through the air and smacking into Potter's hand and arm and face, falling into a pile on his lap.

"Don't-"

"HAHAHAHhhahahhahah-!" Draco could hardly breathe, squeezing the pillow to his stomach for support.

"Oh, shut it," Potter muttered, pulling a pair of boxer briefs off of his head.

He slipped off the bed, his back to Draco. This succeeded in shutting Draco up as he propped himself on his elbows to get a better view. Potter only gave him a few seconds, quickly pulling on the boxer briefs and getting back into bed, taking off his glasses and setting them on the bedside table.

Draco sighed, "You have a lovely bum."

"Shut up," Potter said tightly. He looked embarrassed.

Draco smiled, "It has dimples."

Potter rolled towards him in the bed, "Malfoy-"

"I like dimples," Draco said.

"Malfoy, go to sleep," Potter said.

Draco cupped Potter's face to feel the heat of Potter's blush on his palms and kissed him. "Fine. Just so long as you know, I quite like your dimples."

"I was here the whole time," Potter said. Harry tugged Draco's hands off his face, holding them loosely as he relaxed into the pillow. "Dispel the lumos?"

"No," Draco said, wanting to look at Potter's face as long as possible. "I can't be bothered. It will fade out soon."

"Fine," Potter conceded.

"I don't know what your rush is, anyway," Draco said, his voice dropping to a whisper as he watched Potter's eyelashes dip closed. "You have tomorrow off."

Potter sighed into the pillow, pulling the duvet up to his cheek, " 'M tired, you."

Draco wanted to tease him with a, you what?, but he held his tongue. Watching Potter fall asleep was far better.

Draco groaned as his sleep was rudely interrupted by the horrid beeping of Potter's alarm. He pulled his pillow over his head. When Potter didn't move to turn off the alarm, he kicked at him under the blankets.

Potter twitched and grabbed at the noisy little box, knocking most of the things on his nightstand onto the floor. The beeping followed the mess, becoming faintly muffled. Draco popped his head over his pillow, watching as Potter leaned over the bed, fumbling around for ages before finally heaving himself back onto the bed. He had put on his glasses while he was down there and was holding his wand in his teeth. He lifted the alarm by its cord and impatiently jerked the plug from the wall.

"Why, the fuck-" Draco said in the sudden silence.

Potter took his wand out of his mouth, "Still gotta call in sick."

Draco gave him a look of utter dismay.

Potter just ignored him. He lifted his wand, closing his eyes for just a moment, a smile faintly ticking at the corner of his mouth before swirling his wand, silently casting a silvery Patronus charm. Draco had always heard that Potter's patronus was a stag and had even seen it from a distance, but none of that had prepared Draco for how large it was. The spread of its antlers was as wide as the bed, and it had to lower its head to bring its muzzle close to Potter's face.

"Tell Gawain Robards that I'm sick and can't come into work," Potter told it.

The stag dipped its head in acknowledgement and disappeared into a stream of light leading out of the flat.

Draco smacked Potter's arm, "You could have done that later, after a nice proper lie-in."

Potter shook his head, dropping his wand back onto the now empty nightstand and collapsing into his pillow.

"No?" Draco prompted.

"Ron or Hermione would come around to check on me," Potter said.

Draco raised an eyebrow.

"It's not them," Potter said quickly before Draco could speak. "It's because I never do that sort of thing."

"Even when you did call in to take time off, they got fussy about you," Draco pointed out.

"Well, that's..." Potter sighed, "there isn't much I can do about that. I did talk to them about it, but it's like... they're kind of over-protective after the war and everything." He was quiet for a long moment before adding, "I probably am too."

Draco rolled over to lay on Potter's chest. He smiled when he felt the faint hitch in Potter's breathing. "Just so you know, I'm not interested in any foursomes," he said faux seriously.

"Melin, no!" Potter sputtered

"Are you saying you've never thought about it?" Draco asked.

Potter shook his head, his chest vibrating with silent laughter.

"Not even once?" Draco teased.

"shut up- shut up!" Potter laughed, putting his hand up to cover Draco's mouth.

Draco let him, and then gently bit his finger, just managing to follow it up with the tip of his tongue before Potter pulled away.

"You're the worst," Potter said.

"I'm flattered you think so," Draco said, dropping his head onto Potter's chest.

He let his hand skim across Potter's chest and the dark hair growing there, up to trance along the line of his collarbone. Draco could hear Potter's heartbeat and how it sped up as he touched him.

"Malfoy..." Potter warned.

"I'm not going to fuck you, Potter," Draco said in a singsong tone. "I'm just touching."

Potter made a noise in the back of his throat somewhere between acknowledgement and annoyance.

"I like to touch," Draco said, he kept his tone joking, but it was, if anything, a warning. Draco itched to touch every inch of Potter. Not even sexually, though that too, but just to... feel it all.

"Mother always said it wasn't proper. That wizards of our standing should always remain reserved and in control at all times." Draco said.

He cracked a wry smile as he cupped the side of Potter's neck, tracing his thumb down the tendons that shifted as Potter swallowed. "Of course, I would be a disappointment in that as well."

"You are just about the least reserved person I've ever met," Potter said.

"Exactly," Draco said.

"It's better that way, though, isn't it?" Potter said.

Draco glanced up at him.

"That you're just you?" Potter said.

"Well, I have to agree because I am, me," Draco said. "It's just unfortunate that I was nothing my parents expected of me. Except for my looks."

Potter frowned, "I don't... you didn't kill anyone-"

"Just barely," Draco said, "Though I'll agree that I never tried to kill anyone. Except Dumbledore."

Potter sighed at him. "I just meant that you being their child should have been enough."

"Baring any murder," Draco said.

"Shut up, for merlin's sake," Potter said, exasperated.

"Mind you, my Father would have preferred slightly more murdering," Draco said lightly.

Potter sighed louder at him and sat up, dumping Draco off him.

"Hey!" Draco protested.

"I'm going to take a shower," Potter said, getting out of bed.

"More like have a wank," Draco said sourly.

Potter ignored him, heading out the door.

Draco rolled his eyes and pulled the duvet back up, preferring to try and go back to sleep.

He had barely managed a light doze when Potter returned, banging around as he pulled open his dresser and took out various clothes.

Draco sat up, "What are you doing?"

"Getting dressed," Potter said.

"Why?"

"Because I'm up?" Potter said.

"Exactly," Draco said sourly, "Why are you up? We ought to be sleeping."

"Yeah, well," Potter said as if that were an answer, pulling on a worn pair of jeans.

Draco decided to switch tactics, "Did you enjoy your wank?"

Potter didn't answer.

"It's more fun with company, you know," Draco said.

"Have a lot of experience with that sort of thing?" Potter said, his words faintly bitter.

"And he's calling me a slut again," Draco joked.

"I am not," Potter said.

Draco knelt on top of the covers, "None."

Potter glanced at him with a frown, "None what?"

"I have no experience when it comes to wanking with company," Draco said. He pushed the waistband of his pants down, his cock half-hard from thinking about what he was doing. "So I suppose I ought to have a little experiment to find out."

Potter stared at him, frozen in place, "...to find out what...?"

"If it really is more-" he gripped his cock and let out a heavy breath, "-fun with company."

Draco shivered faintly, cool air licking across his previously warm legs, his cock growing hard as Potter watched him with hungry eyes.

Potter took a step closer.

"Ah, ah, wanking only," Draco warned gently.

Potter's hands clenched unconsciously as he stopped only a few steps away from the bed.

A faint smile curled onto Draco's lips as he stroked himself. Draco forced himself to keep his movements slow, teasing his cock as much as Potter. He had to close his eyes for just a moment, overwhelmed by the intensity of the sensation.

When he opened them again, Potter's stare had darkened with his desire.

Potter made an almost inaudible sound, "I can't see properly."

Draco huffed a laugh and grinned as he slid his hand up his stomach, pushing the hem of the shirt up.

Potter's breathing jumped, and Draco began to move faster, squeezing himself tighter. Then he let go of the t-shirt, the edge falling on the top of his clenched fist, and Potter practically growled in frustration.

Draco laughed even as he reached further up, pulling the collar of the shirt up over his nose and breathing in Potter's scent.

"fuck-" Potter said, his voice sounding strangled.

Draco bit the edge of the fabric as it fell from his nose to keep it pulled up, letting his free hand drop to his stomach, sliding over his skin. He closed his eyes, imagining it was Potter's rough hand running over his hip and down his thigh.

Draco moaned faintly, sweat slipping down the small of his back as his muscles tightened, his hand moving over his cock growing more erratic. He opened his eyes. Potter's name caught between his teeth as he came, muffled into nothing by the fabric in his mouth. Pleasure shot through him like a cascade, the warmth of his release covering his stomach and Potter's shirt as he let it drop.

Draco sat back on the bed, breathing heavily, shaking faintly from the strange intensity of it all.

"Malfoy-" Potter's voice was rough, nearly strangled with desire, his erection straining against the fly of his jeans.

"Touch yourself," Draco said.

Potter's eyes widened, still somehow surprised, uncertain but wanting as well.

"I want to see you touch yourself," Draco said. He crawled to the edge of the bed and held his hands out.

Potter moved closer, and Draco hooked his fingers into Potter's belt loops, holding Potter right in front of him.

"Show me," Draco said.

"Malfoy..." Potter said, far too uncertain.

Draco rose up on his knees and kissed Potter.

"Show me," he said again, almost in a whisper.

Potter's hands brushed over Draco's as he unbuttoned his jeans.

Draco sat back on his heels and tugged the faded blue denim down. Potter's cock strained against the thin fabric of his pants. Potter's hand shook ever so slightly as he pushed his pants down.

Precome began to bead at the tip of Potter's cock, and Draco had to resist the urge to lick the head of Potter's cock, put it in his mouth, and swallow him down. He forced himself to lean back, to slide his hands down Potter's thighs, and simply look up at him.

Potter groaned, his jaw clenching like he was fighting not to come right then and there.

"Merling, fuck, I-" Potter broke off, finally wrapping his hand around his cock. His fingers tightened around the shaft but didn't move. He reached out with his other hand, cupping Draco's jaw, and Draco tilted his head up at his touch. Potter's thumb slid over his lips, lightly tracing the shape. Draco let them fall open, his tongue darting out to lick the pad of Potter's thumb and eliciting a groan from Potter.

The bed creaked as Draco rose up on his knees, so close to Potter that he could feel his body heat and slid his hands up Potter's chest.

"I can't-" Potter shuddered, "I'm going to-"

Draco licked his lips, feeling desperately pleased as he kissed Potter, as light and chaste as Potter's touch had been before. "-then come," he said softly.

Potter let out a shuddering breath and began to stroke himself, almost clumsily, his grip tight and rushed. Draco felt Potter's forehead touch his, the top of his glasses pressing into Draco's skin. Potter's eyes fluttered shut, a shudder running through his whole body as he came.

Draco's stomach jumped as he felt Potter's warm come on his skin, mixing with his own. Draco loosely curled his arms around Potter's shoulders, sliding his fingers through the short hair at the nape of Potter's neck as his breathing slowed.

Potter's eyes searched Draco's face, and he wondered what Potter was looking for. He very much doubted Potter would find it with him.

Before his thoughts could hurt him more, he said, "Seems like very successful experiment, wouldn't you say?"

Potter huffed a laughed, "You're the worst."

"Flatterer," Draco said. He cupped Potter's face in his hands and kissed him. "Now, I need a shower."

Potter glanced down, his brow furrowing for a second as he realised, "Oh, sorry, I didn't-"

Draco snickered at him, "That's just what being with blokes is like, a mess." He kissed Potter again before slipping off the bed. "It's fantastic, by the way."

He grabbed his wand from underneath his pillow and headed to the loo. He gave the poor t-shirt a quick cleaning charm to get the worst off before taking a quick shower. He changed into fresh pants and a t-shirt from the pile next to his bed and had jeans in hand when he realised Potter wasn't out and about in the flat.

Draco returned to the bedroom and found Potter lying on the bed on his side.

"What-?" Draco started.

"I give up," Potter said. He took off his glasses, folding the arms and setting them above his pillow. He held out an arm, "Let's have a bloody line-in, then."

Draco grinned and climbed back into bed, curling into Potter's chest.

Potter wrapped his arm around Draco and sighed into his hair, "I just don't know what to do with you."

"That's fine," Draco said, "Neither do I."

Potter pressed his face into Draco's hair and held him even tighter.