Sex Before Love (Drarry)

Chapter 2

-(unedited)-

^Harry's POV^

Finally at the bar, Harry was mentally pacing back and forth across the tiled floor. It had been 15 minutes since six, and Draco still hadn't shown up. Usually, ten or more minutes meant a no-show, but Harry had decided to stick it out for a few more minutes.

Why did he even care? It wasn't like he liked Draco, he still- and only- loved Ginny. Even though she was... cheating on him with Seamus.

"Sorry I'm late," gasped Draco as he threw himself into the chair next to me. "Astoria called, saying something about child support. That woman never shuts up."

"It's fine." Harry said, trying to hide the relief in his voice. Honestly, he was relieved that Draco had shown up at all, but that would never escape his lips.

"So..." Harry said, a few uncomfortable minutes later. "What have you been doing these past years."

"Oh, I'm about to become an Auror."

Confused, Harry looked up. "But isn't the training for that-"

Draco hurried to explain. "I was at another job before. Well, no, I was helping Astoria with her job, and balancing 3 others. I grew tired of it, especially since our relationship was slowly beginning to fall apart. So, I told Astoria I wasn't going to be able to help her anymore, quit my other 3 jobs, and began my training.

"What jobs," Harry asked, strangely interested.

"...Ones that I would rather not divulge, Harry. How have you been doing?"

And so the banter continued easily like this, until 9:00, where the "inn" turned into more of a bar.

Draco was doubled over laughing at a story that Harry was telling about Ron and a misplaced cat carcass, when his eyes caught onto something at the door. His expression sobered for a minute, but the easygoing grin reappeared a few seconds after that. Every fwe minutes, when thhey were talking, Draco's eyess would dart over to the bar and back again.

"What is it?" Harry asked, turning towards the bar.

A weak "No..." left Draco's lips, but he was a second too late. Harry had already seen it. "It" would be Ginny and Seamus practically dry humping each other. As they watched, Ginny broke away from the kiss only long enough to whisper something into Seamus' ear. She attacked his mouth again, while Seamus smirked, stood up, wrapped her legs around his waist, and carried her towards the stairs.

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Harry didn't know how he felt. He didn't know what to feel. Anger, sadness, heartbreak, the urge to rip Seamus' smirk right off his face, and sadness. He had had suspicions, heard rumors, thought that it was true, but some part of him always hoped that it wasn't true.

Wavering between numbness and breaking down, he chose the obvious choice: numbness. Calling over a waiter, he ordered eight spiked Butterbeers- "Four for me, four for him,"- and hushed Draco when he tried to protest.

"I feel like getting drunk tonight, don't you?" Harry knew he was doing a shite job of hiding his emotions, but he hoped that Draco ignored it.

Smiling weakly, Draco nodded. "Yeah, sure. Let's do that."

Harry downed the first four the second the waiter placed them on the table. Calling back the waiter, who had only walked two feet from the table, he ordered eight more. The waiter looked hesitantly at the untouched four still waiting in front of Draco, but nodded and hurried off.

Looking at the untouched four mugs in front of Draco, confusion flashed across Harry's face, before his expression softened into something close to sadness, and he looked up at Draco.

"Please," he said quietly.

^Draco's POV^

Draco's head snapped up, staring at Harry in utter bewilderment. Did Harry Potter, the Man Who Lived, "Savior of the Wizarding World," just show vulnerability? And to him, of all people? The only thing that had kept Draco from drinking them was his internal debate on how drunk he wanted to get. Whether to only go to eight or so, which was probably Harry's limit, or go to his actual limit, which was twenty or so. (He had had a lot of... sleepless nights on the job.)

Finally deciding to fake his limit, he slowly drank the first four, watching Harry down mug after mug, going way past eight, and even having some of the waiting mugs in front of Draco.

By the time he was finishing his tenth, Harry had already finished, finally stopping at twenty-seven, and was staring around the room with a faraway look in his eyes.

"So, Harry?" Draco asked, remembering at the last second to sound as drunk as Harry looked.

Once he spoke, he saw the tears gathering in Harry's eyes. Oh no. Here comes the flood.

^Five minutes later^

"A-And I don't know why she sta-started cheating on me," Harry sobbed, in the middle of a full-on emotional breakdown. "I-I mean, she even said herself tha-that the sex was good!" Sniffling, he rubbed his eyes, uselessly trying to stop the flood of tears.

Draco was finding it extremely hard to contain his coos. Drunken Harry was probably the most adorable thing he'd ever seen. He tried not to cringe too obviously whenever Harry mentioned the sex.

"Dra-Draco..." Harry mumbled, turning towards him.

"Yeah," he asked, not even bothering to pretend anymore. Harry was too drunk to notice.

Leaning forward, Harry's lips clumsily brushed his, but even that was enough to leave Draco dumbstruck.

"Can w-we go ups-stairs?" Harry asked- more like breathed- onto Draco's ear, and giggled drunkenly.

Draco froze. Was Harry really asking for...

No, he wasn't, Draco realized. He remembered when Astoria had walked out of the house on him. He had wanted human contact, as close as he could get to anyone, and that meant sex.

For the next few nights, he frequented Muggle gay bars, sleeping with anyone who caught his fancy (always topping), and fixing their memory the morning after.

For a few seconds, his common sense took over, saying 'What if you fall in love with him? He's still straight. You won't get anything-' Then his lust took over. 'Your dream guy is standing in front of you. Fuck him senseless. He's practically begging for it.'

Coming back to reality, he looked at Harry and nodded.

Attaching his mouth to Harry's, he picked him up, wrapped his legs around his waist, stood, and started walking towards the stairs.

(Déjà vu, anyone?)