A/N:

There's definitely smut in this chapter, so yeah. Readers beware.

Also they are not drunk when they have sex, but DUBCON for Draco not knowing Harry is Harry (he's in disguise) when they have sex in this chapter.

⁠—

Harry ran a hand through his hair as he stared out the window. Merlin, he was happier than anything that he'd moved to Muggle London ⁠— he got to lose the constant stress of being The Harry Potter in the public eye ⁠— but he was wondering if he should want to see his friends more often. He saw Ron and Hermione sometimes at work, but, well, the Ministry was a busy place so it's not like they ever really just sat about talking.

He had become quite the loner in his off time, and quite honestly he preferred reveling in the lack of work to do rather than hanging out with his friends. What he really wanted to do was go out clubbing, but he was starting to wonder whether it was healthy. It felt fine to him, but sometimes he remembered Hermione's lectures about isolation after the war and how it wasn't good for him.

Harry sighed. He was dressed to pull anyway, it'd be a waste not to go out at this point. He started to get up off the window seat, when something shiny out the window caught his eye. It was only the sun reflecting off of someone's hair through the faint trail of cigarette smoke drifting upward. Harry thought it would make a nice photograph ⁠— with the small point of brightness in the middle of the haze, and the faded grey of the streets. He turned away, before he could get too lost in thought; he'd been doing that a lot lately.

Harry stood in front of the mirror wondering how much was too much, as he put on eyeliner. It had apparently worked in Sirius' youth so why not.

Harry found himself especially bold when he went out because nobody knew who he was. He could be whoever he wanted and then just...disappear. Hell, he'd probably die of embarrassment if anyone found out he owned clothes like these.

Eyeliner smudged to his satisfaction, he added a nifty little temporary vision spell he'd found so he could do without his glasses for a few hours. Whilst he was at it, he charmed his eyes brown and his hair a bit lighter and longer. He knew charms wouldn't do a thing about the state of it, so he didn't even bother. Looking in the mirror, he tapped his wand on his chin (something he'd been ​repeatedly​ not to do by Hermione ⁠— honestly it was quite dangerous) and frowned. He made some minute adjustments to the way his facial features sat and...there.

Finally satisfied he wouldn't be recognised as himself or any of the other guises he'd taken on, he left. He didn't like to repeat looks very much ⁠— it turned out people didn't take it so well when you weren't interested in a second one night stand. Harry thought that rather defeated the purpose of it being one night, but he'd also found out reasoning didn't work too well. Especially when there were six of them confronting him at once. Being a different person every time was definitely best.

As he walked down the street, he caught sight of the shiny haired person he'd seen from the window leaning against the light post on the corner, smoking a cigarette. Harry thought he looked rather pale and pointy, almost like a Malfoy.

Actually, Harry wondered just what had become of him. Last he'd heard, Malfoy had all but disappeared from wizarding society and was living amongst the Muggles, which Harry had found incredibly ironic.

No doubt, this guy ⁠— no matter how pale and pointy he may be ⁠— would never pass for a prim and proper pureblood Malfoy. In fact, Harry thought he probably wouldn't be allowed within ten metres of the family.

This man had ears glinting with multiple piercings ⁠— and even one in his nose ⁠⁠— but more to the point, he was absolutely covered ​in tattoos. Besides that, his hair looked messy and unintentionally grown out, and everyone knew what ponces Malfoys were about their hair.

⁠—

Draco took a last drag of his cigarette and crushed it under his boot. He was pretty sure that the guy across the street was checking him out ⁠⁠— he'd been just standing there for like a minute. Draco winked at him and turned down the street. He doubted the guy was shocked by his rather, er, expressive appearance⁠ ⁠— this dude was hardly dressed like a puritan himself. Those jeans were so ripped up they might as well not exist, and yet they managed to be tighter than Draco would've thought possible.

Yeah, Draco was definitely going clubbing. He wanted to dance and drink until he forgot his own name. And if the hot, interested guy across the street happened to be there, which it looked like he was going ​somewhere​ full of dancing and drunkenness, well that would just be a bonus.

It had barely been an hour and he hadn't even had but one shot, but Draco felt absolutely hammered on energy alone. He wound his way through the crowd, grinding blindly on whomever happened to be nearest. A couple of times he'd ended up making out with some guy who was dancing back against him. He hoped whomever his next victim was was going to be up for a bit more than some heavy snogging because he was incredibly horny at this point.

He spotted the guy from the street earlier across the room by the bar. Well would you look at that: victim spotted.

As Draco got nearer, he saw the man was dancing on a woman. No matter, it didn't seem like they'd come together, it shouldn't be to hard to break in. He danced closer and lightly placed his hands on the guy's hips from behind, making him turn around in surprise. He leaned forward to speak in Draco's ear.

"Hey, you're the guy who winked at me in the street earlier."

Draco grinned, and leaned in to shout back.

"Hey, you're the guy who was checking me out in the street earlier," he said, mockingly imitating his surprised tone of recognition.

The guy's brows furrowed as he stared at Draco's face.

"What's your name?"

"Draco." The guy made an odd face, and Draco quickly said, "I know, weird name." He'd never get used to this with Muggles. It wasn't that weird. "What's yours?"

"J-Jamie."

⁠—

Harry's brain was a whirlwind of OhFuckOhFuckOhHolyHellAndMerlin'sBloodyLeftTit! He snuck a glance down to Draco's forearm, and there it was. Reddened and faded, but still there amongst all the other markings: the Dark Mark. Fuck, it was really him. How did Harry always get himself into these kinds of situations?

"Why suddenly so nervous, love?" Draco yelled in his ear. His thumbs came up to rub circles on Harry's bare waist. His shirt covered just to the bottom of his ribs, a fact Draco was happily taking full advantage of.

Harry attempted a grin and shook his head, hoping that Draco would drop it. Fuck. Draco pulled him closer by the hips and starting grinding on him, and fuck that was hot. And then he was kissing him, and he didn't even know how it started, but now they were snogging the faces off of each other and Draco was grinding on him and telling him all the things he wanted to do to him in his ear.

Harry had a very intense battle in his mind, which began with 'IT'S STILL MALFOY!' and ended with 'Oh, fuck it. He doesn't have to know, and we're both just here to get laid.' And then he was asking Draco to come home with him and they were leaving the club.

They got to the alley outside and Draco pushed him against the brick wall, apparently unable to keep his hands ⁠⁠— or mouth ⁠⁠— off of Harry.

Harry, took a swift step around Draco, as he held him, and Apparated them straight to his place before he even had a chance to properly think about what he was doing. Draco gasped.

"You're⁠⁠—"

"I already know you're a wizard, Draco. Just leave it."

"But⁠⁠—"

"Do you really want to sit here and talk about this instead of doing more, I don't know, pleasurable things with the time?"

"That's a serious law you could have been so fucked for," he managed to get out before he was back to kissing the life out of Harry.

"And you really fucking pissed me off by Apparating me without warning, I hate that feeling. But fuck you for still making it hot." He mumbled angrily between kisses.

Harry didn't bother to try and respond. Apparently no matter who he pretended to be, he'd always piss Draco off. Perhaps it was a special talent. He led Draco backward to the couch and Draco straddled him, grinding down on his lap and gasping slightly at the feeling as Harry pulled on his hair to get better access to where he was kissing and sucking at his neck. He dug his nails into Harry's back and Harry groaned.

"Mmh I wanna fuck you."

"Oh god, please."

Harry's lips twitched at a Malfoy saying something at all akin to a prayer. Draco had certainly picked up some things living amongst Muggles.

"A wizard? Praying? I'm flattered," he joked.

"Wouldn't you just like to think it's about how good you are," Draco bit out as Harry kissed and sucked under his jaw.

"Yeah, well we'll see if you sing the same tune the morning after." Harry doubted there would be a morning after. He was never one to stay, and Draco didn't seem the type either.

"You're gonna make it that bad?" Draco quipped back, pulling his shirt over his head, and Harry snogged him rather than responding. Draco moaned when Harry sucked and bit at his lower lip, so apparently he'd managed to make his point nonetheless.

His hands wandered freely across the smooth bare skin of Draco's torso, and ground up against him.

"Bed?" Harry asked.

"What, you think I want you to fuck me on this tiny-arse sofa?"

"Such. A fucking. Smartarse," Harry slid his hands under Draco's bum, and stood.

Draco locked his legs around Harry's waist. "Yeah? Guess you'd better fuck it out of me then," he murmured into Harry's ear, tracing his tongue up behind the shell. Harry shivered and moaned, carrying Draco quickly to his bedroom and laying back on the bed so Draco was on top of him.

He ran his hands through Draco's hair as he kissed him, and traced them down his waist, finally ending at Draco's belt buckle, he tugged at it, questioning and Draco nodded. "Yeah. Please."

Harry undid his belt and zip, and Draco quickly rolled off of him. Harry was confused until he looked over and saw Draco frantically untying his boots and tossing them aside with his socks, before stripping off his trousers. He latched back onto Harry's throat, biting and sucking lightly, slowly moving downward as his hands worked to rid Harry of his clothes.

He pulled down Harry's trousers as he sucked on a spot right next to his navel.

"Fuck, Draco."

"Want me to suck you off?"

"Yes. Fuck yes."

Draco rubbed a hand across him through his boxers, mouthing at his waistband, then slowly slipped his underwear down, careful to keep it from catching on Harry's cock. He backed off slightly and stroked a careful hand over the silky skin, making Harry groan and close his eyes.

He felt a quick kitten lick on the underside of his cock and cracked his eyes back open. Then Draco was tracing his tongue flat up the bottom of his dick and circling the head. He licked down the sides and Harry groaned.

"Merlin, stop teasing me."

Then the whole top half of his cock was encased in warm, tight, velvety wetness. He looked down at Draco and Draco made steady eye contact as he sunk his mouth further down onto Harry's dick.

Fuck, Harry thought. He looked so good like that with his lips stretched around Harry's cock. Draco hollowed his cheeks and sucked, and Harry's eyes fell closed again, hands clenching tightly in Draco's hair seemingly of their own accord.

"Ahh, yes." He opened his eyes as Draco started slowly bobbing his head and Draco was still staring up at him. He kept eye contact for awhile, mesmerised, before pulling Draco off of his cock and kissing him deeply.

"Fucking hell," He reached for his bedside drawer and pulled out a bottle of lube, "I'm going to fuck the shit out of you."

"You really think you're up to the task?" Draco smirked, running a hand up Harry's stomach and over his waist.

"You git, how much is it gonna take to get you incoherent enough to stop making smart remarks?"

"I've always been partial to the 'try and see' approach, but you'd better give it your all just in case."

The smug look on Draco's face, was quickly wiped off when Harry was over him, mouth against his ear, whispering dirty things and pushing down his boxers. Harry pulled back to completely strip Draco of them, and grabbed his hips, directing him onto his hands and knees.

He sat back behind Draco and ran his hands over every inch of skin he could reach, admiring all the different colours and patterns colliding on the soft, smooth skin. His hands continued to roam freely as he began leaving open-mouthed kisses up the backs of Draco's thighs. He moved up to mouth at Draco's back and dragged his hands down down over his arse.

His tongue trailed back down and gave a small nip.

"Can I eat you out?"

Draco's breath hitched and he nodded, letting out a breathy "Yeah."

Draco writhed and moaned under him as Harry slowly tongued him and stretched him open.

Harry almost didn't feel as if anything was real. Time seemed fragmented and inconstant.

Almost before he could process it, he was thrusting into Draco, amidst moans of encouragement. The next thing he knew, Draco was face down on the mattress, apparently unable to hold himself up as Harry thrusted down into him.

Harry was floating ⁠⁠— he couldn't think straight, nothing seemed like real life ⁠⁠— but whatever these clouds he was on were, they felt so, so incredibly good. Then Draco was riding him and he didn't know when that had happened, but fuck it was a good decision. Draco circled his hips, taking Harry as deep as possible, and fuck Harry was in paradise.

And now Draco was screaming and moaning underneath him, as Harry came inside him. He saw white and collapsed beside Draco. After several long moments of panting and reveling in the aftershocks, Harry became conscious of the stickiness drying on his chest, and looked over at Draco, who was probably quite a bit more uncomfortable as his chest and stomach were covered in his own come, and Harry's was slowly leaking onto the sheets.

Harry quickly waved his hand and wandlessley scourgified both of them.

Draco looked over at Harry with glazed eyes and let out a small exhilarated laugh. His eyes quickly began to droop closed and Harry's followed of their own accord. He let his exhaustion take over, and the last thing he remembered was curling into warm arms before he drifted off.