One Night TBGC

Completed:  June, 2003

Pairing:  HP/DM

Rated:  NC17

Warning:  Slash; Mpreg; Alcohol

Summary:  Something to do with love. More to do with sex. Everything to do with MPreg. Oh, I've been a naughty Eskimo,
haven't I?

Author's Note:  On ff.net, there are five chapters, on this site, there are three chapters and an epilogue, that is because I was impatient.  It was originally intended to be presented as three chapters, but I really wanted to get feedback, so I went ahead and posted early on two occasions.  However, I assure you, that nothing is missing or incomplete.

Chapter One

"Potter?" Draco rolled his eyes to the right to see if his new found confidant was still alert. When a barely audible groan assured him he was, the blond looked back towards the grey stone wall in front of him, "Why the hell did I just tell you that, anyway?"

Harry let a soft, inebriated giggle slip from his lips and past the bottle he’d been sucking on, "Because, Malfoy, you’re drunk. Besides, you know very well my Gryfdindor honor won’t let me tell anyone else."

"Gryffindor."

"‘At’s what I said."

"No, you said Gryfdindor."

After a moment Draco felt a hand thwack him half-hearted on the back of the head. It was probably meant to be a devastating blow, but Harry couldn’t pronounce the name of his own house properly, let alone summon the coordination necessary to smite his would-be enemy. "Did you get me drunk just so you could make fun of me and I couldn’t fight back?"

Draco considered the sudenly bright consequence of his actions, "No, I’m a self serving Slyth’rin; I got you drunk because I did not want to drink alone. You are just the self sacrificing Gryfdindor that agreed to drink with me."

"Gryffindor."

"Hmm."

Draco pressed his back firmly against Harry’s and closed his eyes, trying desperately to remember exactly why getting drunk had been a good idea. Oh, yes, of course, it had been his father. But then it was always his father, wasn’t it? No need to make an exception this time.

This particular drinking escapade had been set off by a letter. Taking another deep swig, Draco absently remembered it was also always set off by a letter. "Potter." Harry didn’t bother answering, just drove his elbow into Draco’s back with little effect. "What should I do?"

The room went deadly silent, giving way only to their breathing as they both thought on the question. It wasn’t an easy one, not for Draco, anyway, but it was the age old dilemma of the Malfoy family line - Should he do what his father wanted? Of course, it got a might-bit more difficult when one actually considered what it was his father wanted and what the consequences of not doing it were.

Draco felt Harry heave a big, labored sigh, "Do you want to kill people?"

"No one wants to kill anyone, Potter."

"Your father does." A pregnant silence fell over them as Draco turned this over in his mind for a moment. Yes, his father probably did. He grabbed for the bottle he had set on the floor next to him and tried to take a drink, only to find it was empty. Throwing it against the wall he watched it break and the pieces fall to the ground. "Do you?"

"Of course I don’t!" He eyed the broken pieces of the bottle, thinking about licking the slick fragments. "Gods, what am I supposed to do?"

"About what?"

Looking back, Draco stared at the back of Harry’s head for a moment, stunned. "What do you think ‘about?’ That we’re out of alcohol? About my father, you git, about my bloody future."

"Oh, that." Slapping Harry’s arm, Draco congratulated himself on the resounding echo. "Feel better?"

"No."

He saw Harry rubbing his arm out of the corner of his eye and nearly starting laughing again, "Well, you had better feel something, that bloody well hurt."

"You deserved it."

After another long moment of silence Harry chuckled, "Yeah, I did. But, you know, the answer's rather simple, Malfoy, whether you want it to be or not. Don’t do it. It’s not like failing a test. You can’t take it back, and you can’t make it up to anyone. When you kill someone their dead, and nothing you do can change that. It’ll eat you up inside."

Draco gave a deep sigh, "Yeah, but there’s other things to consider, you know. If I don’t, he’ll kill me, or worse, he’ll kick me out. You know, even if I do live through whatever he does to me, I lose my inheritance. All of it. Do you have any idea how much money that is?"

"Enough to kill for?"

Shrugging, Draco laid his head back against Harry’s shoulder.  "Not really. Where would I live, though? I can’t very well go back home."

Harry flung his arm back, putting his hand on the blonde’s head.  "You could live with me."

Draco laughed back, "Right, we can spend entire days flinging insults. Then, at night, when we’re really bored, we can take turns trying to hex each other in our sleep."

"Sounds fun."

They hadn’t been friends for very long, in fact, ‘friends’ was probably stretching it; they got along when they wanted to, which was especially when one or other needed to drink. It was only the fourth, maybe fifth, time they’d done this. The year had started out so normal, too. Since thier fifth year neither had bothered to say more than a few words to the other, it just wasn’t worth it. Harry had the world to save, Draco had his father’s expectations to live up to.

Then, two month ago, he had found Harry kicking chairs over in an abandoned classroom. Draco showed up the next night with a bottle of vodka he’d brought from his father’s private store and they’d spent the night drinking and reminding each other of the various embarrassing things that had happened. The ferret incident had ended up as possibly the most embarrassing thing either had suffered, although, Harry’s now infamous truth or dare game in sixth year came a close second. That entire first evening had been... pleasant, and relieving. Draco couldn’t remember the last time he talked with someone who had an attention span lasting more than five bloody seconds; and to think, Harry had been drunk most of the time. So, they’d made a point of doing it again.

Draco cocked an eyebrow at the glass staring at him from a few feet away. Maybe Harry’s idea wasn’t such a bad one after all. They didn’t always get drunk, sometimes they just sat, back to back, and stared at the walls until someone came up with something interesting to say, but it was never quite an awkward silence, it was comfortable. Just two people enjoying not being alone together.

Harry shifted behind him and turned half around, "Malfoy?"

"Yeah?"

"You’re a real buzz kill sometimes." Soft laughter followed quickly, indicating that it was a joke although, of course, it was just as true as it was humorous. Now that they weren’t sucking down vodka like pumpkin juice Draco was sudenly very tired.

"Potter, what time is it?"

Harry stumbled to his feet, pulling Draco up with him, "Time to get you back to the dormit’ries." With much stumbling, and several incidents of the blonde falling on his ass, Harry finally managed to deposited Draco on a sofa in the Slytherin common room where he promptly passed out.

Trying not to make too much noise, Harry slipped outside the portrait and made his own way half-hazardly through the dungeon. It had been so much easier to keep himself upright when he was supporting someone else. Stopping at a familiar door, he slammed his fist into it and leaned against the frame. A whole sodding bottle of vodka. It really had not been a good idea. He hadn’t thought it was good idea when Draco had come up with it, either, and yet he’d still gone along. Oh well, of the two of them he was sure Draco had drank the most, more than half. So Harry was fairly sure it was safe to say he’d been the responsible party.

He stood up straighter and tried to knock again. It seemed more like an attempt at pummeling the door, especially when it opened in mid swing and, instead of solid, supportive wood under his hand, he found air. Stumbling forward into the room, Harry grabbed the first thing he could reach and found himself looking up into the face of his very displeased lover. "Hi, Sev’rus." Then everything seemed to fade happily away into nothing.

__________________________

The ‘meetings’ were arranged for once a week. If Draco could get booze so much the better, but either way they met to let off steam. Sometimes they indulged in placing thick silencing charms around the room and kicking things, usually they sat on the floor or the large teacher’s desk and huffed at each others problems until they realized that, in major scope of things, petty jealousy and grades really did not matter.

Tonight, Draco really needed to hurt something; really, really needed to hurt something and as much as he would prefer that thing to be able to fight back, he had little hope that Harry would go for it. He hadn’t called him Saint Potter for nothing.

Turning into the doorway, Draco plastered his usual smug grin on his face, playing their normal game of ‘everything was all right.’ Like anything could be right about the two of them meeting late at night in an abandoned classroom to talk. It was probably the most moronic thing to come out of their time together. It even beat the hangover he had last week, which was the reason he was wishing he could use Potter as punching bag. Honestly, leaving him on the couch? Did he have any conception how embarrassing it was to not only wake up vomiting, but find most of your house staring down at you while you did it?

It took him a few moments to find Harry in the room and when he did he almost wished he hadn’t. The black haired boy was sitting in a corner near the door looking utterly miserable. Draco stood and stared for a moment. What the hell was he supposed to do? Harry had never looked this... despondent. He looked like a child whose puppy had run away, hell, he looked like he was about to cry.

"Potter?"

The glistening green eyes sudenly latched onto his and he stared back for a moment, waiting for something. He was at least hoping for some form of embarrassment. Instead, Harry sighed and looked back down, "Just go away, Malfoy. I’m not in the mood tonight."

‘Not in the mood?’ Draco defiantly plopped himself next to Harry and stared straight ahead, listening to the other boys uneven breathing, "I could care less if you’re in the mood or not, Potter, we have a date and you are keeping it."

After a moment he heard a deep chuckle and was surprised at how relieved he felt, "Date? God, Malfoy, you’re something else. Since when does sitting in a dark room doing nothing in particular constitute dating?"

"Since you had the nerve to say you weren’t in the mood."

The blonde quirked an eyebrow to his right and watched Harry dissolve into laughter, "Yeah, okay, so it sounded a little..."

Draco grinned back, feeling a bit more sure of himself, "It sounded like you were trying to get out of sex."

To his own horror he watched Harry’s face nearly crumble, "Could we just not talk about that, please?"

Throwing his arm dramatically around Harry’s shoulder, Draco waited patiently until he had eye contact, "You just said ‘please.’   To me."

"Oh, god, no."

"You, Harry Potter, said please to Draco Malfoy."

Harry elbowed the other boy with enough force to bruise, and smiled when he was rewarded with a very unMalfoylike curse word. "That’ll learn you."

Snickering, Draco leaned back against the wall, elbows on his upraised knees, "‘Learn me?’ Where do you get that stuff?"

"Same way you get the alcohol. ‘You don’t wanna know.’"

They sat quietly for a while. Harry seemed calmer, still upset about something, but no longer holding back tears. It was strange, but Draco was feeling better himself. Breaking the silence, Draco leaned on the brunette and gave him puppy dog eyes, "Potter, it’s absolutely horrible. I have a sneaking suspicion we’ve just become actual friends."

Harry stared, "How the hell did you come to that conclusion."

"I liked making you feel better."

Sarcasm dripped from Harry’s voice, "Oh, this is serious."

Slapping the other boy’s calf, Draco smirked, "Don’t make fun of me, this is a travesty. Malfoys are not friends with Potters! ...So, is there anything else I can do to make it better?"

For a moment he expected Harry to make some kind of cutting remark, but then his face began to lite up, and he started grinning wickedly. "It’s brilliant. Malfoy, have sex with me."

"I thought you didn’t want to talk about that."

"No, Malfoy, listen. Have sex with me. None emotional, short term, never to happen again sex."

Well, that was rather unexpected, but not entirely impossible now that he thought about it. "No strings?"

"None what so ever. It’ll be like it never happened."

"Nothing changes between us?"

"Absolutely nothing."

"Never again?"

"Not even if you beg."

Slapping the side of Harry’s head, he thought it over for a moment longer before getting to his feet stretching, "All right, but I’m on top."

"Deal."

Thus began what Draco would, twenty minutes later, consider the new most embarrassing moment of his life.

Harry stood up and walked to the desk, sitting on it expirmentally, before motioning for his soon-to-be lover to follow.  Draco hesitantly stepped forward and Harry and wrapped his arms around Draco's neck. He wasn’t really sure why he was doing it, they weren’t lovers, he didn’t have fond feelings towards him, and the act itself wasn’t even comforting in any particular way; it just felt like something he ought to do seeing as he was about to let the other boy shove something he grudgingly admitted was rather large into an untoward part of his anatomy.

He opened his mouth automatically at Draco’s questioning tongue and forced himself to kiss back. It wasn’t all that bad. It was different and there was something there.   As awkward as the moment was, it was obvious that Draco was at the least trying to enjoy it and that had to count for something.

He spread his legs a little wider, more acutely aware of the wooden desk digging into his hipbone as Draco pressed further into the offered space.

Awkward did not even come close to how Harry would describe this moment. He knew for a fact that he was too tense to facilitate an erection and, if the hard lips pressed too firmly against his own were anything to go by, Draco was in a similar position.

Harry pulled back, finding himself breathing far heavier than he would have expected. “This is... odd.”

Draco cringed and nodded, “Yeah, but, it’s not bad, is it?”

“No!” Harry shook his head, “Not bad, just...” He twitched slightly “odd. Maybe we should try something different. Like, maybe we should skip the foreplay all together and get straight to the sex.”

“Right.” Draco tried not to look uncertain or in any way uncomfortable as Harry removed his clothes. The shirt was the first thing to go and Draco found himself inadvertently admiring the smooth, tan skin. He’d tried to tan a few times and it had never worked. He’d just managed to turn his skin a bright tomato red.

The shirt, however, was not what settled the dead weight of reality in the pit of his stomach. The zipper did that. It had been like one of those horrible muggle movies Blaise occasionally subjected him to in the name of ‘knowing their enemy.’ Everything seemed to slow down for the briefest of moments and that absurd zipping sound echoed in his head like a bloody shotgun.

He was going to have sex with Harry. Not just sex, no sex could be something as simple as a hand job or a quick blow job. No, he was going to bugger Harry Potter and he had absolutely no idea how to go about it. Well, that wasn’t entirely true, he had some idea. His cock, Harry’s ass. Beyond that he knew fuck all.

“Malfoy?”

Damn, he’d been staring. And when had Harry taken off his underpants? Draco blinked a few times at his decidedly nude friend before looking up, “Yeah?”

“You sure you want to do this?”

“Of course I’m sure, Potter, I wouldn’t have agreed otherwise.”

Harry smiled and reached out, unbuttoning Draco’s cloak clasp and letting it fall to the floor with no regard for how expensive it was or what kind of material it was made from. “Well, you can’t very well do it fully clothed, can you?”

Draco had the absurd urge to say that he could do anything he wanted, before it occurred to him that Harry was probably right; even with his limited experience, he knew it would make things very difficult.

He couldn’t, however, bring himself to shove Potter’s hands away as they expertly unbuttoned his shirt, callused fingers brushing against his delicate skin as each button gave way. Harry didn’t even seem to mind. In fact, as more skin was revealed and the dark haired boy began pulling the tale of the shirt from Draco’s pants, he noticed that Harry was decidedly enjoying himself.

With a hidden gulp, Draco reached out and cupped Harry’s face, pulling it up and into another, slower kiss as the buttons on his pants were parted. This was much different. Harry was kissing back this time, and Draco couldn’t hold back a deep throated moan when a hand stole into his trousers and began stroking his penis, which responded as though there had been a call to arms.

The lips under his were soft and warm and moving with him, pressing against him as he pressed back. The hand in his pants was hard and rough, but strangely arousing. He wasn’t sure which he liked better, the soft lips, or the rough hands. Eventually, he decided it didn’t matter, because he was being given both.

The hand was momentarily removed as his pants as his underpants were shoved past his hips and onto the ground, but it returned with vigor shortly afterward, accompanied by Harry’s tongue in his mouth. Now that Draco was rock hard and free of constraint it was much easier for Harry to get a good grip and Draco was very appreciative of the talented hands as they stroked him.

He was just starting to lose himself in what could arguably be called a moment, when Harry pulled back, breathing heavy and wearing a rather stupid grin. “That’s a bit more like it.”

Draco scowled, “Shut up.”

“Turning on the Malfoy charm, are we?” Harry lay back and pulled his legs up, exposing himself more fully than Draco had even imagined possible for a man. “Just get to the sex.”

He was fighting back the urge to gulp nervously when Harry pushed himself up onto his elbows and slipped two fingers into his mouth before reached his hand down towards his crotch. In all his years thinking about sex and about girls and occasionally about boys, he had never once thought he would find watching another boy touch himself this erotic.

However, Harry didn’t seem to just be planning on touching himself. He bypassed his cock completely and slid one of the fingers into his ass. Harry’s eye closed behind his glasses, his face taught in concentration as he moved the finger in and out, slowly.

When the second finger joined the first, Harry opened his eyes, grinning in a seductive manner, “Never watched a man finger himself before?”

Draco shook his head numbly. He had the oddest sensation of being fascinated, disturbed, and excited at the same time. When the fingers pressed in, the tight ring of muscle was pushed in with them, and when they pulled out it stretched out as well. It looked so... tight, and stretched, even with just two little fingers, Draco could hardly imagine anything bigger fitting in, let alone his cock. But when Harry suddenly pulled them out and lay back, he very much wanted to try.

He leaned over Harry, looking down at him with as steady an expression as he could manage. It couldn’t be that different from fucking a girl, he rationalized, you just stick it in.

Licking his lip nervously, he pulled Harry’s legs up, placing one on his shoulder to allow for better access. Well, here went nothing. Positioning himself with his hand, he thrust forward in one, swift movement.

“Oh, god!” He felt a sharp pain rip through his crotch and stopped completely. The cry, however, had not come from him, but from Harry whose eyes were impossible wide in shock, pain, and anger.

“You bloody... twat! What the hell is wrong with you?”

Draco made to pull out, but Harry whimpered, his eyes suddenly filling with tears, “Stop! Just, don’t move.”

Normally he would have been perturbed at having been ordered to do, or not do anything, but something was obviously wrong, so he decided to do as he was told.

After several deep breaths, Harry spoke through clenched teeth, “What in the name of Merlin did you do that for?”

Draco started to shift his position, but even the tiniest movement made Harry tense further, so he forced himself to remain perfectly still, despite the discomfort. “Do what?”

“Do what?!” Harry’s narrowed his eyes angrily, “What do you mean ‘do what?’”

The tone of Harry’s voice made Draco wince slightly. It had been an honest question. He knew he’d done something wrong, he was in enough pain himself to know that, but he really wasn’t sure what it was. “Well, I...” He found himself flushing in embarrassment and did his best to ignore it. “I’ve never really done this before.”

Harry’s face went from livid to completely blank. “Never done this?”

Draco shook his head and Harry took several deep, calming breathes. “Listen to me very carefully, you will slowly pull out, then you will back away, and if you’re really smart, you’ll run”

He had no intentions of running, but he did slowly begin to pull out, trying hard to ignore the little simpering cries falling from Harry’s lips in quick succession. Unfortunately, he’d barely begun moving when a wave of pleasure ripped through him, spreading from his balls, down his legs and into his head.

Harry’s cold voice under him, however, quickly belayed any after glow he might have felt. “Please tell me you did not just do what I think you did.”

“I…”

“Out, now…”

The moment he had pulled completely free, Harry shoved him away and tried to stand. It didn’t work. The other boy’s knees gave out instantly and he ended up landing on his ass with a sharp cry.

Draco stood stiffly next to him and stared forward while Harry crossed his legs, mumbling incoherent words of pain as he did so, and bent forward to rest his head on his calves.

-tbc-

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