I dont own any characters from the Harry Potter Fandom. i write for fun :) Just a WARNING that the following story does include scene of self-harm, Gay sex and maybe some triggering material. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK.

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Draco Malfoy shifted in his seat. He could feel the anger making a hot path from his throat to the bottom of his stomach as Blaise shared another sexual exploit of the infamous Harry Potter. How Draco would give anything to reach across his desk and choke the idiot out right now. Instead, he settled for the usual shouting.

"Would you kindly shut the fuck up, Zabini? For God's sake, I can't even eat my lunch without hearing you talk about that idiot." Draco sat back in his seat and massaged his temples.

Blaise just sat across the desk and looked at him with this stupid smile on his face that seemed to say, "I know exactly what you would rather be shouting about." And of course he did, the bastard. Draco sighed and looked up at Blaise with what he hoped was a convincing expression.

"If you wouldn't mind, I'd like to eat my lunch in peace. I'll talk to you later." He looked down at his desk, so he missed the way that Blaise stared at him as he said his goodbyes and how he lingered by the door because damn it all, Blaise was his best friend and he knew exactly why Draco wanted to be alone even if he was the one who had caused it.

Draco stared at the desk for a moment more before anger welled up in him. He grabbed a book from the shelf closest to him and launched it at the wall, taking only minimal satisfaction from the loud and resonating sound it made in his small office. It landed on the floor with a dull thud and Draco stared at it for a moment before sighing despondently and going to pick it up.

Sitting down at his desk, Draco reflected once again on why just hearing Harry Potter's name sent him into a whirlwind of emotions. After the war, Saint Potter had quickly come to bear the new title of Slut Potter- Much to everyone's delight, have no doubt. Everyone wanted a chance with the Golden boy and most got it. I must say 'most' because unfortunately, the women were left wanting. Potter preferred to spend his time with his own gender, much to the female population's disappointment.

When Draco had first heard that, he had gone into a small bout of shock quickly followed by an overwhelming amount of foolish hope. That had quickly been rectified however, when the person who had told him everything in the first place mentioned that Potter was also somewhat of a whore and that Draco would never have a chance anyways.

That night had been the first night Draco had ever gotten drunk by himself and that night was not the last night Draco had cried himself to sleep with bloody hands.

Because, you see, Draco Malfoy was so terribly in love with Harry Potter that it was almost ridiculous.

He had been ever since Harry had saved him from the room of requirement the night of the war. Even now, sitting alone in his office, he could feel the way Harry had felt in his arms- how warm he was, how sturdy and sure and strong, even when they were inches away from death. And Draco could remember feeling his heartbeat. His arms had been wrapped tightly around Harry's body and in doing so his right hand had been placed inadvertently over his heart. It had been beating so fast it felt like it would fly out of his chest; it was beating like Draco's.

Draco had fallen in love right then and he couldn't fucking get out of it, no matter how hard he tried. He wished he could. He wished he could forget all about Harry Potter because every day he had to suffer with the knowledge that his love was one-sided, never to be returned.

And that hurt.

It hurt to know you had so much to give to someone and that they wouldn't want it. It was made even worse by the fact that Draco had to hear about Harry accepting sexual favors by practical strangers when he would do anything in the world to make the prick happy.

He's thought about going to Harry and being one of his many sexual exploits but he just couldn't because when it came down to it, it was so much more than sex to Draco. He wanted all of Harry Potter. Every single good and bad piece, happy and sad day. He wanted to be there for him and hold him when they went to sleep, he wanted to make him smile and laugh and he wanted a family with him. He wanted a life with him.

So just being one of the many notches' on his belt would just end in more heartache for Draco. He wouldn't even be able to attempt to make it last because for some reason or another, Harry was even more famous for the reason that he never let anyone stay. He always kicked them out directly after, never allowing them to sleep over and stay in the same bed. Too good, Draco supposed.

Thinking about it as he was now, Draco couldn't help but go over why Harry would never want him to begin with-childhood rivalry aside. Who would want a person who tortures themselves? Draco would be the first to admit that he wasn't that happiest son of a bitch on the planet. The love of his life hated him while being a slut, his entire family was dead, practically all of his friends hated him and his job fucking sucked.

Not to mention he had been dealing with a major case of depression a little before his fifteenth birthday and an even larger addiction of hurting himself since his sixteenth. The depression part was more widespread in the way that Blaise knew about it while the self harm was not in the way that absolutely no one knew about it.

He wanted to stop and be happy, but he knew that he couldn't. He had read books upon books about addiction and self harm was as much as an addiction as cocaine was. Draco just thought it was a little worse because it had actually happened to him.

Biting his lip, Draco rubbed both palms down his covered thighs, barely feeling the raised, furrowed, hallowed, or bumpy scar tissue that covered the entirety. He had been better as of late, to the point where he had no open wounds and he hadn't been so proud of himself in a while. But he was sure it wasn't to last. He could feel it coming on now- that familiar itch in his palms, the burn on his thighs and the pull in his chest.

He shook his head, slapped his hands repeatedly on the desk before throwing his uneaten lunch away and going back to work.

Draco stumbled out of his floo with a headache seemingly trying to explode out of his temples. He wiped angry tears out of his eyes as he threw his briefcase towards the sofa. As he was walking towards the floo's to come home for the day, he had heard Sanders- Sanders of all fucking people!- talking about how he- HIM!- had been in bed with Potter just last night. The words wouldn't stop repeating themselves in his mind, seeming to ricochet inside like angry birds in a too small cage. Draco had almost run in his desperate need to get away as soon as he heard Potter's name but it was no use. It was made a million times worse by the breathy quality of sanders voice, as if he was reliving the entire thing.

"He wouldn't stop looking in my eyes- it was so intense- and when he finally laid me down and, you know, started, he just kept-…"

That was all Draco heard because he had pushed through the throng of people in line and had jumped through the floo before his heart could hit the ground.

Standing in his tiny flat, Draco leaned heavily on his kitchen counter. His shoulders were hunched, his body trembling with the effort to keep the sobs at bay. Unfortunately there wasn't anything he could do to stop the onslaught of tears.

He stumbled blindly towards his bathroom, locked and cast a silencing spell on the door before yanking his medicine cabinet open with a harsh pull. He pulled the blue wooden box off of the bottom shelf and sat down on the floor beside the bathtub. He rubbed his fingers reverently across the worn edges, recalling how his mother had given him the old thing to hold his cufflinks when he had turned eleven.

He felt guilty and almost ashamed as he pulled the lid off and stared at the sharp material inside. An assortment of broken glass, razors and even a ring had found itself inside the keepsake. He picked up the sharpest piece he could find and slowly but steadily, his tears stopped as his blood dripped onto the white tiled floor of his too small bathroom. The hollowness in his chest, the heaviness in his stomach, and the burn in his throat…it all faded to a calm numbness that left Draco staring absently at the wall.

How he wished he wasn't like this… Draco would give a lot to be- not to be happy, exactly.

Draco would give a lot just to be okay.

Everything came back to you slowly after you do such a thing to yourself- like the world is in fragments and your just watching them piece themselves back together again. But with those fragments come the pain, the emptiness that led you to the act in the first place. Draco supposed that was the addicting part. Because each time all of it came back, you just had to shatter it again. You just had to dig a little deeper, pull a little faster, to keep it away.

Draco started to cry again as he looked at the mess he had made. Why did he have to be like this? Why couldn't Harry just love him? He sobbed, and after that, there was no stopping them. It was like he was drowning, sinking deeper and deeper in the tumultuous ocean that had become his existence.

As he sat there on the bathroom floor, he felt his chest fill with heat. It was put there by an idea that had always been there, lurking at the back of his mind, but that had suddenly solidified into something that was sure, and there and real.

He cleaned up the mess he had made, wrapped his forearm, and walked to his bedroom filled with resolution.

Draco Malfoy was going to be another notch on Harry Potter's belt. He was going to have one moment with him, he was going to give everything he was to him whether he wanted it or not.

Because as soon as Draco left that bed, left the man he loved- however unrequitedly- He was going to kill himself.

Draco stared down at his glass of firewhiskey, blowing air through the slim straw and watching as the bubbles floated up to the top. He was trying desperately to come up with a way in which he could get to Harry in order to ask him out. And of course he was asking the prick out. If he was going down, then he was doing it the proper way- with dinner and a fuck.

His initial idea had been to just go to his house at a time in which Draco knew he would be home-accompanied or not- and ask him. The second was to inconspicuously follow him and ask and the third and least desirable option was to ask fucking sanders of his whereabouts.

God- what an asshole, that Sanders. Didn't he know that he'd had sex with the love of Draco's life? Well, no, of course not. Nobody knew that. Fuck.

Draco sighed and threw back the rest of his drink angrily. He gestured for another, petulantly wondering why everything in the world had to be so goddamned hard and unfair. He had lifted the third glass of firewhiskey to his lips when someone sat down next to him at the crowded bar.

Seeing as it was Friday night and that it was a rather popular little pub, Draco expected tons of people to be coming and going. But when the barstool spun next to him, announcing the arrival of a tall, beautiful man, it was all Draco could do to keep from throwing up. As it was, he did choke on his drink.

He coughed into his hand, trying to clear the liquid from his throat when a large, seemingly blazing hand came to rest at his back. It tapped there gently in an effort to help Draco but in reality that fucking hand was only choking him up more. When he could finally take in enough ragged breaths of air to stop his shoulders from trembling, all he did was stare at the counter for a moment. The hand was still on his back-just resting there between his shoulder blades- and to Draco it felt like they were on fire.

"Are you alright? You seemed to really be choking there for a moment." And Draco just had to look up at the sound of his voice. The deep melodic value of it sent chills straight down his spine, coming to buzz at the small of his back and then coming back to circle around where his hand was placed.

So Draco looked up, directly into magnificently worried and beautifully mesmerizing green. "Harry Potter." Draco stated, almost reverently. "It's great to see you again."

Harry and Draco hadn't really been in one another's presence since the day of Draco's trial, when Harry had returned his wand with a steady hand and a small smile. It was stupid, Draco realized later on that year, for that small smile to have given him any kind of hope, but unfortunately it did and of course it just caused Draco more heart-ache.

Harry snatched his hand away with wide eyes when he saw Draco's face. Yeah, that hurt and it felt like lead had settled into Draco's stomach, but it didn't matter anymore did it? So he continued to observe how Harry hadn't changed at all in the last three years they had gone without seeing each other in person. He was still tall, lightly muscular; he still had the same tousled head of dark curls, he still had the same stupid glasses. He was still breathtakingly beautiful.

Draco could imagine that he wasn't fairing so well. He knew he looked like shit because he felt like shit. He could feel it in the fragile weakness of his wrists, he noticed how he had become even paler- if possible- which just seemed to fucking announce the dark circles under his eyes. It wasn't like he didn't try to look presentable- He did! He still got up every morning, the same as in school and did everything the same except for his hair. He had quickly grown tired of the strict gelled-back look and now preferred to just leave it as it was.

Harry stared at Draco some more before turning and gesturing towards the bartender. Draco caught himself staring before Harry did- thank god. Don't be creepy, don't be creepy. He said to himself.

When Harry got his drink, he stirred it around slowly.

"So…Long time no see, Malfoy." His voice was casual and Draco tried not to show any surprise that Harry was showing anything other than hatred towards him. He nodded and picked up his drink to give him something to do with his hands.

"Yeah. You know me- all busy with work and…life and stuff." He nodded, as if confirming his own words, which sounded somewhat stupid even to his own ears. Surprisingly, Harry laughed. He turned and looked at him and Draco's breath caught in his throat.

"Oh yeah? And what does this buzzing social life consist of?" Draco smiled and leaned towards him conspiratorially.

"Well, I actually travel a lot." He whispered. Harry leaned in, smiling.

"Where do you go?"

"I like to go to different pubs and get totally wasted by myself." He said it as seriously as he could, because he was being honest, but he could only smile when Harry laughed at him.

Draco's heart had never seemed so heavy in his chest with warmth when they finally said their goodbyes. They were standing outside in the back alley of the pub near the apparition point and they were just smiling. Surprisingly, it had been the easiest thing in the world to talk to Harry- about anything and everything. They had laughed a lot but Draco supposed that had been somewhat aided by the alcohol. Harry's cheeks were flushed pink and Draco realized once again, Damn I love him.

Harry reached out a hand and laid it on his shoulder, squeezing gently. "Well, it was really good spending time with you tonight, Malfoy." He went to pull away and walk towards the apparition point, to go home and probably never see Draco again because Draco would probably never be able to find him so Draco did the only thing he could right then. He caught Harry's hand with both his own.

Harry snapped his head back around to look first at his face and then at their entwined hands. Draco thought that alone made a beautiful picture but…it didn't matter what he thought.

It felt like he had simultaneously swallowed fire and Cornish pixies and they were raging in his stomach but if he didn't do this now then he would never get another chance because damn it all. Draco Malfoy never got this lucky. He swallowed before rubbing his thumb across Harry's finger. He looked up and met Harry's cautious eyes. If Draco didn't know any better he'd say that he looked almost…afraid.

"Go out with me?" Draco meant to make it more of a statement, but it came out sounding more like a question then he intended. Harry's face hardened. Draco was confused and prepared himself for rejection until…

"Out?"

"Yeah? Like on a date…" Draco looked at Harry oddly, but it seemed that something was upsetting him- a lot. Draco quickly went to rectify any mistake he might have made. Had he asked too soon? Maybe he would get another chance later. "I mean, of course you don't have to-," he started, only to be interrupted by a hard voice.

"No. Let's go out, Malfoy. I'm choosing the time and place." Draco nodded, although he was a little thrown off by Harry's tone. He didn't sound like he liked the idea at all… which kind of made Draco want to cry a little. Harry stepped forward, right up into Draco's personal space.

They're faces were inches apart and Draco could feel Harry's breath on his lips. His own parted in response, his heart fluttering like mad in his chest. Draco's eyes were wide as they stared at Harry's, watching as they flashed down to his lips and then back up.

"41095, West Street, London. Nine o'clock." And then Harry Potter kissed Draco Malfoy.

It was hard and fast and bruising and nothing like Draco would ever imagine he would want but he could finally admit, if only to himself, that he had finally reached the point where he was willing to accept anything Harry was willing to give him. It was over before it could really get any better than that single bruising moment and Harry was gone. He apparated away with a flourish and a pop and all Draco could do was stand there touched two fingers to his lips.

"He kissed me." He whispered. His heart fluttered in his chest. He said it again, louder. "Harry Potter kissed me!"

Draco spent the remainder of the night replaying that single, bruising kiss that had left him breathless. He couldn't help but fall asleep at the thought that Harry had been the one to kiss him.

The next day Draco could barely sit still. He walked around his small apartment, straightening things that didn't need to be straightened and muttering to himself about obsessive compulsive disorder. He had just re-arranged the books on the mantle back to their original state for the third time when he heard a noise at his window.

It was a large, tawny owl, carrying what seemed to be an ordinary letter if it wasn't for the emerald green seal that told Draco that this happened to be from one Mr. Potter. He took the paper, fed the owl and broke the seal all in less than fifteen seconds. The note read simply,

Apartment 7G. Tonight.

-H.P

Draco ran his fingers lightly over the ink furrows in the parchment. He sighed and sat the letter down gently on the kitchen table. He wished Harry would have seemed somewhat more enthusiastic…Draco shook his head, feeling a wave of almost overwhelming sadness wash over him, drowning out any giddiness he was feeling.

It didn't matter.

It didn't matter whether Harry was excited or if Draco was just another lay to him because it would all end soon enough.

He scrawled back the address to his own apartment in case of- well, anything. He didn't really think about it. He sent that away and went to his bedroom.

Draco stood outside of Harry's apartment complex biting his lip. He didn't want to just walk right up to the door- that would make him seem to anxious. Right? He was only twenty minutes early. Was that too early? He rubbed his wrist nervously and turned around only to turn back towards the building again.

Sighing, he finally gave up on attempting to look like a timely person and walked up to the door. He raised his fist to knock, taking a breath, only to have the breath stolen from him when Harry opened the door before his fist touched it wearing nothing but…

A towel.

Harry Potter answered his door wearing nothing but a towel.

It wasn't just any towel either. It was small, thin and white and barely fit around Harry's hips. The only reason it wasn't slipping to the floor right then was because Harry was holding it tightly in one hand and the door with the other. Water dripped and slithered down Harry's toned chest and stomach, soaking into the thin fabric.

"Oh my god." Draco whispered to himself.

He had never been so jealous of any inanimate object before in his life.

Draco wanted to be that towel.

What had the world come to?

He snapped his eyes back up to Harry's face, flushing when he realized he hadn't once looked away from Harry's body since he opened the door. He started to stutter out an apology but Harry just laughed and waved him in. Draco stepped past him into the spacious apartment, holding his breath to keep from freaking out at the close proximity.

Harry's apartment was actually really nice. Soft golden hues were complimented by whites and silky reds. Draco smiled because it suited Harry perfectly. He turned around to compliment him on the space but was stopped when he felt Harry's lips touch his. This kiss was gentler, less forceful than the first but still wonderful. Draco's body, once tense from the surprise, quickly relaxed when he felt Harry's hands on his waist. His eyes slipped shut and his lips parted and it was straight up fucking awesome. That is until Draco realized he was falling.

Well, not falling so much as being laid down- wait. Laid down? Draco couldn't even remember moving out of the entry way so was he being laid down on the floor…? Oh hell no! He's not about that life. Draco opened his eyes and pulled away from the kiss- damn his stupid no-floor-sex-policy- and saw with a shock that he was in a bedroom. On a bed. Harry's….

He was in Harry's bedroom on the bed!

His internal panic was cut short however, when he felt Harry lips on his neck. He gasped and tilted his head back further, not even caring when Harry started unbuttoning his shirt. A sharp bite to his collarbone made him notice that his shirt was now completely undone and hanging off his shoulders and that he should probably really say something before Harry gets both his shoes off of him. Yeah he wanted this but damn! There was supposed to be dinner before the fuck. It's just the principle of the thing, guys. He propped himself up with both elbows.

"Is this how you start out all your dates?" Draco asked, trying to lighten the question with humor but not succeeding when Harry just gave a sarcastic snort. He crawled back up the bed and that's when Draco saw with a shock that the towel was gone and sweet hallelujah Harry was naked on top of him.

Draco should start going to church…

Harry bent his head while rocking his hips against Draco's and took one nipple into his mouth. Draco's train of thought crashed into the concrete wall of pleasure that little action caused and he moaned bringing one hand up to tangle in Harry's hair. Harry nipped at the skin and then looked up, his eyes somewhat cold.

"You shouldn't play dumb, Draco. It doesn't suit you." Before he could be overwhelmed by confusion and slight hurt, Harry unbuttoned his trousers and pushed both them and his pants down in one go. Harry leaned down to jerk the bundle off his feet and then stopped. Draco, suddenly bare, was having a hard time processing anything except what the fuck and is this seriously happening and my god I have that same candle.

It took him a moment to notice that although his pants were gone, Harry still was propped himself up again and looked down to ask what the holdup was, not even caring about dinner anymore but then he saw what the pause in the sexy times was actually all about and he just wanted to get up and leave.

Harry was just standing there, his hands raised as if he actually wanted to touch them, staring at the assortment of scars on Draco's thighs. Draco didn't think he had ever moved so fast in his life as he did right then. He sat up and pulled his knees to his chest, hiding his scars from view.

Harry made a small noise in the back of his throat and reached out a hand but pulled it back right before it touched him. Draco saw this and he couldn't help but let out a bitter laugh. Harry's head snapped up from where he was staring at Draco's knee and asked, "What?" Draco looked at him, trying to keep all the pain and self hate out of his gaze but knowing he failed when Harry winced.

"You don't want to touch me anymore? After seeing what- after I…" Draco cut himself off and bit his lip in frustration. But then Harry was there and gripping his chin and kissing the breath out of him. He pushed Draco back and settled himself between Draco's once again spread legs. Draco gripped hard onto Harry's back, gasping into the kiss when he felt their erections rub together. Harry pulled back, his breathing just as shaky as Draco's and looked him in the eyes.

"I want to touch you. I just wasn't sure you would want me to after I saw them." and Harry rubbed his palms down Draco's thighs, making them tingle and burn but in a good way- a way that had Draco closing his eyes and tilting his head back and shuddering. Harry kissed him then and the only time Draco willingly pulled back again was to say, "I want you."

Harry kissed down his shoulders, removing his shirt the rest of the way and then only pausing for a second before he kissed the scars on his arms too. He marked Draco's neck and chest with his teeth while stroking him with one hand and holding his wrists above his head in the other. He gave the same treatment to Draco's thighs and hips and Draco felt his heart swell with love for Harry. Tears slipped past his closed eyelids and Harry reached up to kiss those away too.

Draco almost hated him for a moment right then. Hated him for pretending to care, hated him for making Draco feel like this, hated the way he made him feel.

He kissed Draco softly once and then pushed the first finger into him. Thank you to whatever great deities for the creation of lube. . Draco arched his back and lifted his head to press his lips harder to Harry's. Harry brushed over his prostate continuously- lots of practice, Draco thought briefly but bitterly- as he prepared him and Draco was begging by the time Harry lined himself up.

Draco wasn't a virgin. He had been titled the 'Prince of Slytherin' for crying out loud. Everyone wanted to get with a prince, especially one with fucking awesome hair so long story short, Draco had plenty experience in both taking and giving what women and men all had to offer.

In conclusion, he wasn't one to exaggerate sex because really, been there done that- but whenever Harry pushed into him Draco swore his whole body burst into flames; It just straight up simultaneously combusted. He wasn't even there anymore. He was just floating away, ash in the breeze because Harry had made him explode. But then Harry's hips met the back of his thighs and he realized that No, he was still solid and Harry Potter just bottomed out.

Draco gasped and arched his back, a couple of words falling from his lips that he was sure his mother would frankly gape at- Whoa, okay there. No thinking about your mother when Harry Potter is inside of you! How obscene.

Harry bent, stealing the breath out of him as he waited for Draco to get adjusted. When Draco nodded, Harry pulled back slowly before pushing in steadily at a pace that made Draco shiver. Draco gripped Harry's shoulders, his eyes shut tight as Harry continued at the slow movement that made him want to cry from his love of him and choke him at the same time because damn it! He needed to come.

He slid his right hand into Harry's wild curls and gripped tightly, relishing in the low moan that came forth from his throat. He bent and bit harshly into Draco's neck, making him thrust down onto Harry's cock. The movement sent Harry rubbing against his prostate and as he cried out, Draco realized that he shouldn't even try to talk when he was in this certain position.

Instead he reached down and gripped Harry's arse- Sweet Merlin- making him stop and look up at Draco with questioning eyes. it took him a minute before he could make his throat work and move his vocal cords in something that didn't resemble a moan of pleasure and when he finally forced it out, he wanted to kiss the smirk right off Harry's face.

"I won't break, Harry." He admonished with pleading eyes. Pleading because please just fuck me. Seriously. For real.

Harry laughed and kissed gently across Draco's jaw, his hips still rocking subtly into him. "I know you won't." and as he pulled out, making Draco squirm with the sensation, Draco swore he heard Harry mutter, "I just want to make this last forever." But Draco was an idiot and the best thing to ever happen to him was taking place as Harry slammed into him, gripping his hip with one hand and reaching down to stroke his erection with the other and he shouldn't even concern himself with the romantic made up shit his brain conjured.

Draco could feel the tingling warmth beginning to grow in his stomach and he gripped Harry tighter to him-as much as Draco wanted this he wanted it to last longer more. Harry was breathing in short bursts above him, his thrusts becoming erratic and his hand moving unsteadily.

"Harry Im-," he was cut off by Harry kissing him forcefully. He bit Draco's bottom lip and pulled as he lifted his head up to say, "Come on. Come for me, Draco." And shouldn't it be illegal for somebody's voice to be so low and goddamn sexual?! Draco thought so.

Harry stabbed into his prostate with a harsh thrust and Draco came with a shout of Harry's name swallowed up by said mans mouth as Harry groaned and came not second later. Draco was drowning in what was no doubt the most amazing orgasm he had ever had in his life and as he came down slowly from the high he couldn't help but be regretful that it was over and he hadn't even got to see Harry's orgasm face. What the hell is this life?! He was also berating himself for being really happy and fuzzy inside that he and Harry had came together. Now is not the time to be a giggling school girl.

Harry was still trying to calm his breathing and pressing tiny kisses to any part of Draco he could reach. Draco reached up and buried his hands in Harry's hair, just holding him there for a moment before tugging his head up and planting a soft kiss on his lips. When he opened his eyes, Harry was staring at him, a strange look in his eyes. With a sigh he pulled himself away from Draco gently, leaving Draco feeling empty, before rolling over and pulling the duvet over both of them.

Before Draco could begin to question the action, Harry turned to him and wrapped his arms tightly around Draco's waist and tangled their legs together. Draco laid his head on Harry's chest and sighed. Every inch of them was pressed together and Draco decided he didn't care why Harry hadn't kicked him out. He was just exceeding happy and supremely sad at the same time so instead of trying to deal with his whirlwind of emotions, Draco closed his eyes.

Right whenever Draco was in that strange world between awake and asleep, he felt a kiss pressed to his forehead and a whisper that sounded suspiciously like, "I love you."

But none of that mattered, did it?

Draco woke up cold. The blanket was tangled around his waist leaving the rest of him bare. He realized quickly, with no small amount of pain, that Harry wasn't there with him. Draco really had been just another notch. Feeling numb, Draco got up and got dressed. Standing in the doorway, he looked back at the bed where their coupling had taken place. He gave a sardonic snort when the thought that last night had actually meant something. He walked down the stairs quietly before striding out the door and apparating into his flat.

He was not scared of what he was about to do.

He hung his coat up and walked calmly into the bathroom. He took the small box and went into his bedroom, sitting down slowly on the floor before it. The tears slipped down his cheeks without notice. He briefly thought if he should leave a note but quickly decided against it. Blaise knew Draco loved him dearly and he was the only person Draco had to write to besides Harry but he would never do that either. Harry would blame himself and Draco couldn't stand the thought of hurting Harry in any way even though that's all the other man had done as of late. Blaise would most likely blame himself for a short while but he would soon come to realize that his life was better without Draco and would let go of the notion without trouble.

Draco chose the razor out of his small box, still feeling numb. He spared a few thoughts of how regretfully he had lived his life. He wasn't the person he wanted to be but he supposed that's why he was sitting there. He also thought about Harry and how much he loved him as he pressed the steel to his wrist. As the blood began to flow Draco wished he could feel it. Tears blurred his vision, although he didn't know why, and he pressed down into his other wrist with no hesitation whatsoever.

As he watched the blood stain the white carpet red he began to feel something.

He felt cold.

He felt alone.

He felt unwanted.

He sobbed, feeling lightheaded, belatedly wishing Harry was there with him. His vision began to darken and even though his thoughts centered mainly around Harry and regrets and Blaise and his parents, the last thought he had was,

Finally.

Harry opened the door to his flat quietly, the bag in his hand rustling gently as he shut it. He sat the bag down on the counter carefully, not wanting to wake Draco up even though he was upstairs. Harry recalled the events of last night with a smile. How could someone be so perfect? He thought.

He started up the stairs slowly, looking forward to watching Draco open his eyes. it had been a long time since he had allowed anyone to stay the night. Draco no doubt was well aware of what he had been up to and when he had asked Harry on a 'date' Harry couldn't stop the flood of pain and anger that flooded his chest. But of course he had agreed. He was probably nothing to the blonde currently residing in his bedroom but Harry was determined to make him realize he meant everything to him.

Ever since third year Harry had wanted the prat- a want that had quickly grown into love as the years passed. As he stepped onto the landing he felt a pang of regret that he hadn't acted on his feelings long ago. He bit his lip, picturing all the men he had slept with just to try and fill the hole in his chest. All the men that had similar features but would never even measure up to the real thing.

All the blonde hair, blue eyes, and aristocratic features he had found to try and make up for what he really wanted but previously thought he would never get. That's why he never let them stay.

They weren't Draco.

Now that he had him, even if it was temporary, Harry was going to do something. Even if that something turned into nothing at least he would never be able to say he didn't try. He opened the door to his bedroom quietly, stepping in and sighing before looking up. His heart jolted in his chest when he realized Draco wasn't there. A quick look into the bathroom confirmed that Draco was indeed gone and Harry couldn't help but sit on the bed as the pain filled him.

Was last night really nothing?

"No." Harry muttered, the pain beginning to make way in the face of anger and determination. Last night had meant something. He knew it did and fuck it all if he wasn't going to prove it to Draco one way or another.

He got up and went downstairs quickly grabbing the envelope he had left on his counter if he ever needed to find Draco. His address was quickly memorized and Harry apparated out of his flat with a pop!

Harry landed on his doorstep and knocked without preamble, waiting impatiently for Draco to open the door. After several minutes of knocking Harry's anger began to fade to doubt. What if Draco wasn't even home? Granted it was only nine in the morning on a Sunday but it was always a possibility. Feeling like a burglar, Harry turned the doorknob and blinked in surprise when it turned easily.

Stepping inside, Harry shut the door and looked around. The place was tiny but well kept and reminded Harry strongly of the man himself. It was all white, black and green and Harry smiled softly as he stepped through the entry way into the hall. As he looked he noticed the bathroom door was open with the light on. Harry sighed as he realized Draco was home. He might have just been with him for a small amount of time but Harry knew that Draco was not the type to leave the lights on.

Stepping forward, Harry pushed open the next door down and looked around. With a frown Harry turned to shut the door before noticing the room he thought was empty ,in fact, wasn't. A hand peeked around the front of the bed and Harry felt his heart begin to beat faster.

"Draco?" he called. He took a step closer, peering around the edge, only to have his heart drop into his stomach. The hand sat in a puddle of blood that had previously been blocked from Harry's vision and whenever he got around the edge, fear making his movements shaky, he fell to his knees with a gasp.

Draco lay there covered in blood, his eyes closed and his skin so white Harry couldn't breathe. He lurched forward, grabbing Draco up and cradling his body close. The damage was bad and Harry felt his stomach roll with the knowledge of what Draco had done. He brushed hair away from Draco's face, his hand shaking so badly it made the simple task difficult. He hadn't realized when the tears had started or the sobbing begun but he felt the exact moment his heart shattered into thousands of pieces. "Draco, please! Please wake up. Please, I-,"

He screamed his pain into Draco's shoulder, faintly hearing the sound of muggle cars passing on the street outside.

He didn't understand.

He didn't understand how his world could be crashing down on its axis while it continued on for others. Why wasn't the world burning, why weren't people screaming?

The love of his life wasn't waking up.

"Draco…"

He would have liked to be able to say he went to muggle heaven. He would've loved to see angels and clouds and sunlight. He would have even liked to have seen nothing at all- for everything to be black nothingness.

It was nothing like that.

Draco opened his eyes and saw nothing but grey. Grey mist floating between grey trees with nowhere to go but forward. He stumbled blindly for what seemed an eternity.

The worst part wasn't the endless wandering- although that was awful- but the horrible thoughts that kept racing through his head. How Harry wouldn't care, Blaise would probably cry…

Draco was passing what looked to be the same tree for what had to be the thousandth time when the ground literally opened beneath his feet. He fell, his hands flailing uselessly as a shout flew from his mouth. He felt like that strange muggle girl Alice when he fell for an oddly long time. When he finally hit the ground, he hit it so hard his vision blurred and faded to black.

When he opened his eyes for a second time, the light was so blinding he flinched and shut them again. Draco groaned, beginning to lift an arm up to shield his eyes. He realized something was wrong when he couldn't. He heard a gasp and something splatter before feeling hesitant fingers touch his cheek.

"Draco?" the voice was one he was sure he would recognize even if he had died. He groaned and turned his head away from the hand that had started stroking his cheek. Cracking his eyes open slowly so as not to blind himself, he caught a glimpse of the hurt face of one very pale Harry Potter before he turned his head away. He tried to move his hand again and almost whimpered in frustration when he couldn't.

Harry stared before jumping in place a little. "Here, just let me-," he started, walking around the bed and untangling some of the wires from the side of the bed. But Draco jerked his hand sharply away from him.

A dark feeling was building in the middle of his chest, tingling with heat and burning his eyes with the threat of tears. The feeling coiled into his stomach as he saw tears well in the eyes he had come to love so much, Harry's hands dropping to his side and Draco wanted to reach out and grab them and kiss them but his own were heavy with bandages and his head hurt and he bent over and sobbed.

Why? Why was Harry here? Was he so fucked up he couldn't even kill himself right? The tears burned hot trails down his cheeks as Harry's arms wrapped around him.

"Why?" He gasped out. The trembling of his body made breathing difficult and the beeping he hadn't noticed before was suddenly a very prominent noise in his ears and he couldn't think, couldn't focus, couldn't stop.

It felt like he was drowning. He knew exactly what was happening and had he been able, he would've been mortified. Panic attacks were something he grew up with what with a controlling father and then an even more controlling dark lord. His breath stuttered over his lips as his head flooded with the sound of his mother comforting him, calming him. "It's okay, darling. I'm here. Im here, you're here and were okay. I've got you, Draco."

"-co, it's alright. Here, look at me. Look!" Harry's frantic voice broke through the fog in his head and he blinked wearily up at his worried face. He felt hands cradle his face as Harry looked earnestly into his eyes. "Breathe in 1-2-3, breathe out 1-2-3." Harry brushed his thumb across Draco's cheekbone as he followed his own advice. "In 1-2-3, out 1-2-3."

Draco found himself unconsciously following the movements and after a few minutes the trembling of his body had subsided and his breathing was back to normal, leaving nothing but a pulsing headache and cooling tears.

He pulled his knees up and placed his head upon his folded arms, feeling the stitches tug in his wrists. He spared a brief thought as to why he was in a muggle hospital but that was pushed to the back of his mind as he heard Harry slump down into the chair by his bed. He peeked through his arms and saw Harry's head fall into his hands, his shoulders slumped and looking utterly…defeated.

Draco's heart pulsed painfully in his chest and he squeezed his eyes shut. Seemingly having a mind of its own, his right hand reached out and tugged one hand away from Harry's face. Draco held it tightly in his own, holding on like it was the only thing stopping him from floating away. And maybe it was.

Harry paused before wiping his eyes with his remaining hand and looking up at Draco with red rimmed eyes. Draco bit his lip and said the thing that had been weighing him down since he picked up that blade.

"Why?" it came out as a whisper, a plea, a question for something tangible that he could hold onto and not merely sink with. Harry chuckled tiredly and wiped his face with his hand again. He looked up at Draco with a look that screamed vulnerability.

"Why what, Draco? Why did you do this to yourself?" he moved his hand up and squeezed at the bandages on Draco's wrist, not letting go despite his small gasp of pain. "Why did you try and take yourself away from people who love and care about you!? Why would you-," and the tears that had been welling in his eyes spilled over with a sob.

The dark feeling that had filled his chest previously turned cold, slicing icy blades into his heart and twisting them, making him feel sick. He felt guilty. He himself, Draco Malfoy, had caused those tears running down Harry's cheeks. He wished Harry would stop crying. He wished he would be angry and yell at him and shout horrible heartbreaking things at him so he could at least get over the notion that Harry Potter might actually care about him. But he didn't say anything like that. Instead he just turned his face away and whispered the words that had been repeated countless times by those who felt so similarly.

"You don't understand."

And suddenly Harry was right there not two inches away from him and shouting, shouting and crying and looking so godamn beautiful Draco hated everything. His hands gripped onto Draco's frail shoulders, thumbs digging into his collar bones, shaking him.

"I don't understand?! Are you fucking kidding me, Draco?I don't- what? Is this about the war?" Harry looked pleadingly at him. "Is it? Because I'll tell you right now you are not the only person who lost people you love. You're not the only person who feels like everything is their fault. Draco, I know you probably won't believe me but I know, okay? I know how it feels like your slipping off the edge of the world with nothing to grab on to but… but you have to. You have to hold on and be- just fucking be, Draco!" Harry was sobbing into his chest, his words barely discernible. Draco couldn't help it. He wrapped his arms around the trembling body and held him close. "Please, Draco. Please." He reached down and grabbed Draco's wrists, gently bringing them around to show them. "I can't- I… when I found you, I swear my heart stopped. I thought for a minute I was going to die right there with you. I couldn't believe you would do t-this."

His heart felt like lead in his chest but Draco stayed silent, not having any idea as to what to say, as Harry carried on. Harry who wasn't looking at him anymore but running his fingers over the stark white bandages thickly adorning his wrists. Tears dropped to the hospital bed silently.

"I-I didn't know what to do, Draco. You wouldn't wake up and I wanted to die too because I couldn't imagine a world without you in it; even if it wasn't with me. You have to be here Draco. You have to. I can't live without you. Knowing you're there, somewhere-a constant. As long as I knew that then I would be able to go on. But I love you too much to ever be able to keep living if you weren't a part of the world somewhere." Harry finally looked up when his trembling voice cracked with the last word. His gaze was steady and full of that emotion Draco couldn't figure out earlier. The tears had stopped and looking back Draco was grateful for that but at that moment all he could do was stare.

He stared because good things don't happen to him. Even if Harry was just saying this as some sort of misguided guilt thing it was still too good to ever be true. Looking at him now though, Harry didn't seem misguided. He seemed hurt and vulnerable but resolute and steady in a way Draco had only seen once- when Harry had walked to meet his own death. And wasn't that a lovely thing to have a confession of love compared to?

But Harry still didn't understand. He thought this was about the war, about guilt. He had no idea that really, it was somewhat because of him. But if he found that out, the amount of guilt that would bring to him would be almost as worse as death.

It wasn't as if Harry had done anything wrong. He didn't know, and Draco couldn't tell him, about the overwhelming feelings he had harbored for him. But he would think it was his fault and it would all go to hell. Why couldn't things just end on a good note for once? Harry Potter had just professed his love in a wavering voice and all Draco could do was feel guilty.

He still hadn't said anything in response to Harry's little confession and he could tell it was starting to affect him when he started shifting restlessly.

"Draco?" he asked hesitantly.

What the fuck was there to say? 'I love you, too?' He did! God, he loved him so much it hurt. But he just couldn't. Because then there would be that question of 'why did you do this?' and Draco wouldn't have an answer but Harry would need one and Draco couldn't lie to him and he was definitely the universes bitch. He felt fingers brush his jaw.

"Draco, please…. Say something." He sounded desperate. Draco hated him for making him love him so much.

There was nothing. There was nothing he could do. He could tell him, but he would ultimately lose him because who could deal with that much fuckery? Or he could say nothing and watch him walk away thinking Draco didn't feel the same way which would probably be for the best. They were too different, too polar opposite.

Or…

"I hate you…" Draco whispered.

He felt Harry's body tense on the bed in front of him and heard his breath catch in his throat. The hands that had been so gentle on his face moments ago froze only to fall to the bed as the words sank in. Draco's heart hurt with how fast it was beating and he couldn't look up at him, couldn't see the tears he knew were there because he could see them falling to the sheets.

He reached out and grabbed Harry's hands as he pulled them away, starting to rise from the bed- to walk out of Draco's life. Draco finally looked up and his eyes stung and his throat burned and everything wasn't easy, was never easy for him. He shook his head, to clear it or to avoid saying 'no, please don't' he wasn't sure. He pulled gently on Harry's hands to bring him closer, cursing the fucking wires that seemed to be tangled everywhere.

He pulled him until their faces were inches apart, to where Harry had to bend down slightly. Draco placed his forehead on Harry's and shook his head again because his damn throat wouldn't work.

"Draco…"

He loved the way his name sounded on Harry's lips. Loved everything about the man himself. So he took a deep breath and said what would surely be the death of him in some form or another because seriously? Luck didn't exist for Draco Malfoy.

"I hate you for making me love you so much." Harry was silent for all of five seconds before an incredulous laugh burst from his mouth. He reached up and tangled one hand in Draco's hair, eyes smiling just as much as his mouth.

"Seriously? I thought-!"

But Draco placed a hand over his mouth and Harry seemed to realize for the first time that he was the only one smiling. Draco looked over his face, words like beautiful, perfect, mine floating through his head- Words that had no right to be there.

"I need you to know something." Was that his voice? When did it become so…dead? "Before you ask me, before something happens that makes it seem like something else, the reason I did this was not your fault. Harry, when I say you don't understand- I mean it. You don't. You can't. And really, I don't want you to. I never want you to be able to understand the way I felt when I did this." he gestured to his wrist. "But I do want you to understand that there was nothing you could have done because you didn't know. I was so alone, Harry. I didn't have anything to hold onto, anything worth living for- at the time that's what I thought!" Harry had opened his mouth, his eyes watery again, in order to respond to that.

At the moment Draco felt pretty proud of himself. He hadn't lied once. Harry really couldn't have done anything. It's not like Draco could have forced him to fall in love.

"I love you, Harry. I've always loved you. But I felt like there was nothing for me anymore." His voice wavered when Harry pulled him close, holding him tightly. He could feel the tears soaking through his white t-shirt. For a moment he found a sliver of humor in the amount of tears being shed in a room with two men in it but that was over quickly when he remembered Harry was crying for him.

Harry held him tightly and when he talked into Draco's shoulder, Draco almost missed it. "I'm not an idiot Draco."

Draco tensed, thinking back over what he had said and cursing himself very creatively when he realized his mistake. Harry looked up at him and Draco couldn't even look away guiltily because Harry gripped his chin. Fuck you universe!

Harry's eyes looked slightly accusing underneath all that hurt. Fuck.

"If you've honestly always loved me Draco and you're not just saying that then you would've thought about me when you did that."

It was official. The world sucked. Harry was never supposed to know. He was supposed to not feel one iota of guilt. He was supposed to be happy. His grip on Draco's chin grew slightly harsher and Draco became desperate because he couldn't think of anything! He looked at Harry pleadingly. Please don't blame yourself

"I thought you didn't want me- that you never could. I just…I thought we could never have anything and fuck, yes, okay- I've always fucking loved you, Harry. Even when I heard about all those other guys you slept with I still wanted you. Its...I never- Harry, please!" Draco begged. He reached up and tried to get Harry to look at him with anything other than devastation. "It's not your fault! You didn't know how I felt. How could you? It's not-."

But his words were cut off when Harry looked away. Draco was sure he would never get over that look on Harry's face. It was heart breaking.

"Draco."

Draco paused in reaching out for him. Slightly in shock and slightly from a small burst of totally inappropriate arousal. Harry's voice was low and dark and stern and Draco wanted to fucking ride it off into the sunset.

"I want you to understand something. There's a reason for all those…all the times I- well, there's just a reason." Harry turned to Draco and cupped his cheek. "All those men possessed something that reminded me of you. Their eyes, theirs hair, skin; however fucked up it may sound I thought I would never have you so others would have to do." Draco was at a loss and Harry stared at him for a moment before leaning forward and lacing his forehead on Draco's shoulder. Draco absentmindedly reached up to tangle his fingers in the hair at Harry's nape. Slightly startled, Draco pulled away when Harry started laughing.

He laughed until Draco gripped his arms in question, still not having the voice to speak. Harry reached up and tangled their fingers together, wary of the bandages on Draco's wrists.

"I'm sorry, love. It's just- we've been so fucking stupid. All these years, all this pain- it could have all been avoided. All of it." Harry stared at him and Draco couldn't have stopped the slightly totally cheesy but ridiculously true words even if he'd tried.

"I would do it all again to be right here with you." And Harry kissed him and loved him and Draco could finally see something other than the dark.

They were in a hospital and they had obstacles to overcome and battles to be won.

But none of the mattered.

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I hope you all enjoyed this little fic. please comment/review!