This is a one-shot elaboration fic based on a scene in my main story, Dying to Connect. This fic is expanding upon the party scene in chapter 5, from Harry's POV.

This story can be read alone, but would be better if you read full fic, obviously.

-Intoxication-

-Harry's POV-

I stand in the dorm room, adjusting my hair in the full-length mirror by the door. Each time I try to pat down a particularly unruly piece, it just pops back up. I give up with a sigh, letting my hair be and acknowledging it as a lost cause.

I can hear the music booming downstairs, shaking the floor beneath my feet.

Blaise and Ron had planned this party tonight, saying it could "promote inter-house unity".

Right, I scoff to myself. More like an excuse to get drunk.

My friends knew I hated parties, but Ron had insisted I go to this one. "You should loosen up a bit Harry, have some fun," he had told me.

I didn't know what the big deal was. I was perfectly happy not getting drunk, to be honest.

But even Hermione had agreed with Ron, saying I should relax now that the war was over.

But the war wasn't over, not really. Not in my mind, anyways. I still felt like I was being hunted, and I still looked behind my back everywhere I went. I was still haunted by the faces of those we had lost.

It felt like no one knew how I felt.

Except Draco Malfoy, of all people.

After the war, it was like he had changed into an entirely new person. Now Draco was considerate, and understanding, and he was someone I could talk to- not to mention how bloody gorgeous he had gotten.

Any time I was around Draco, or talking to him, I could relax. It was like he did something to me, something that soothed my subconscious like nothing else could.

I sigh and head out of the door.

Might as well give it a shot, see if Draco's there, I think as I head to the party. I could already smell the booze drenching the air.

Maybe Ron's right. Maybe I will try to have fun tonight.

When I enter the common room, I am assaulted by dancing bodies and wild limbs. Ron spots me and comes up to me, clapping me on the back.

I look around for Draco but don't spot him amongst the gyrating bodies and flashing lights.

"Glad you came, mate. Grab some Firewhisky, loosen up!" Ron shouts to me over the music.

I am surprised by how many people showed up, and I stand awkwardly with Ron while he sways to the music, obviously a few bottles in. I don't grab any alcohol- I didn't see the need, and anyways, I wanted to remember this awful night so I could remind myself never to attend another party ever.

I am relieved when Luna walks up to me, wearing her signature radish earrings and some wonky blue jumper-dress turned pantsuit.

"Hey, Luna. Haven't seen you in a while," I greet her.

She gives me a wispy smile and sways to the music, bottle in hand. "Mm. I've been working with my father on the Quibbler all summer. Not had much time to socialize," she says. Her voice still has the quiet, ethereal quality to it even though she is forced to almost shout above the music.

We chat for a bit before I hear a distinct shout of, "Oi, Potter! C'mere!"

I turn toward the shout and see a half-undressed Draco Malfoy, looking tipsy and undeniably sexy. His hair is rumpled and debauched looking, and he is curling his fingers at me, beckoning me closer.

I laugh and say goodbye to Luna before walking up to Draco, who looks slightly unbalanced. When I am in front of him, he places his hands in mine and pulls me to him and starts to dance. I hesitate, not sure if I should make a fool of myself or not.

His hands release mine and instead land on my hips, pulling me closer to him, and he and starts to dance against me. His crotch grinds against mine, and I pull him away from me before my body reacts to his close proximity and dancing.

Instead of moving away from me, Draco grabs my hand and pulls it up to his waist, coming closer. I chuckle nervously, unsure if I should let myself go and just dance with Draco.

I start to sway slowly, and Draco grinds against me, our hips aligned.

The rough contact sends a hot jolt through my body, and as he continues to dance, I feel my cock responding.

He rubs against me in earnest, practically frotting, sending jolts of pleasure straight through my cock.

I can't help but press forward against him, meeting his every thrust. He moans seductively, leaning into me. His hand comes up to circle behind my neck, pulling me closer to him. He leans in, his lips pressed against my ear, and whispers, "I wank to thoughts of you in the shower."

I freeze, absolutely shocked. He doesn't seem to notice, and continues on dancing.

I chuckle awkwardly. "Draco, I think you're drunk."

He pays no mind to my comment, and only shoots me a wink. "You know what else, Potty?"

I roll my eyes at his playful use of his old nickname for me. "What?"

He giggles. "Its a secret."

I huff an exasperated sigh. "It's a good thing you're not nearly this annoying sober. Why bother asking me if it's a secret?"

My logic seems to impact him, and his eyes widen. "I can tell you. I just can't tell you."

I shake my head at his drunken antics, not comprehending what on earth he means. "Sure, Draco."

His eyes light up and he nods emphatically. "Yes, yes! It's perfect!"

Before I can ask him what in Merlin's name he's talking about, he runs to the front of the room and gets up on top of the coffee table in front of the fireplace and calls the attention of everyone in the room. The music mysteriously fades a bit, now only slightly obnoxious rather than its earlier sanity-defying loudness.

"Hello, all you lovely beautiful people." He punctuates this with a drunken hiccup.

"Today, I would like to share with you an important thing." His face is completely serious, his voice taking on a somber tone. Everyone in the room is looking at him with amused smiles.

"Our dear Chosen One, Harry Potter, is phenomenally beautiful." He says this with the air of someone delivering grave news to an ignorant crowd.

The eighth-years titter and look over at me. I half-smile, a bit scared of where Draco was going with this.

Draco continues with reverence. "And he is so vitally wonderful-" at this he loses balance a bit and struggles to right himself, "-and I think he is an arse for being so astoundingly breathtaking."

I am impressed by his use of such vocabulary while so obviously intoxicated.

He looks down at me, meeting my eyes, holding out his hand. "Harry, dear, come to me."

Everyone laughs heartily at his dramatic display, and I walk to him slowly. When I am standing directly in front of him, he takes my hand and brings it up to his mouth, pressing a slow, hot kiss on the skin just above my blood-quill scar, his eyes never leaving mine.

My heart starts to warm before I realize- he's drunk. He probably doesn't mean it, and even if he did, he probably won't even remember it in the morning.

I sigh and start to pull my hand away, but he holds on tightly. "Draco, I think it's time you got to bed. You're drunk and acting silly."

His eyes momentarily reflect hurt before he recovers and laughs. I look around at Blaise, who is standing close by, indicating with my eyes that I needed some backup, but he just shrugs and turns to Theodore Nott, who seems to be heavily intoxicated as well.

When I finally manage to extract my hand from Draco's vice-like grasp, his air of seriousness evaporates, and he throws out his arms and shouts, "But wait!" Everybody pauses from their laughter to stare at him. He keeps his eyes trained on me with rapt attention, his lips curved into a crooked smile.

"Since you saved the world and all," I scoff at these words, rolling my eyes at his exaggerated jesting, "You get a free lap dance!"

My eyes bulge out of my head, not sure I heard correctly.

Draco jumps off the table and pushes my chest so that I fall back into a- conveniently placed and thankfully present- sofa. I am too shocked to react when he leans down into me, his arse starting to rub into my crotch with fervor.

The rest of the party-goers laugh hysterically at this, and seeing that Draco's speech is over, break off into their individual conversations and resuming their dancing, some cheering Draco on. I can't help but hope that each and every one of them is too drunk to remember this in the morning.

Draco leans back into me, his back leaning against my chest, his head thrown back onto my shoulder. He is making breathy moans against my ear, which shoot straight to my cock.

He grinds down harder, the added pressure heightening my pleasure. I make a strangled groan when he thrusts in a particularly hard and eager motion, trying to press down my need to pull him closer and rut into oblivion.

When his hands clutch my thighs and he moans, "Harry," I almost come. Throwing caution to the wind, I grasp his hips in my hands and turn him around so our clothed cocks are against each other, and I pull him down to meet my upward thrusts.

He moans wantonly and throws his head back. My eyes roam up the column of his throat, catching the glistening sweat gathering at the ends of his hair, making it curl up at the tips.

My breath is coming in quick gasps, my heartbeat thundering. Draco's arms reach up and circle around my neck, pulling himself closer to me.

His eyes open and he looks down at me, his grey eyes wild and looking brightly passionate. We don't break eye contact, continuing to observe each other while we thrust.

The spell is broken when Ron grabs my shoulder, and I still my movements. He leans down and murmurs in my ear, "You should probably take this upstairs. Everyone is watching."

It's like being doused with cold water, and I shake out of my reverie. I nod to him in thanks and gently nudge Draco off my lap, despite his protests. I loosely grasp his arm and pull him upstairs, towards his dorm. I knew that I couldn't take advantage of him, especially not in such a vulnerable state.

On our way through the cluster of people, I spot Blaise and Theodore Nott kissing, evidently inspired by Draco's and my open display of homo-eroticism.

We enter Draco's shared room and I head to his bed- easily identified by how organized it and the area around it is, compared to the mess of the other two beds- and I pull back the covers.

"Okay, Draco, here. Go to bed, you need to sleep this off." Draco sits down reluctantly, albeit a bit tipsy, and starts to take off his shoes.

Satisfied that he would be going and staying in bed, I turn back towards the door, intending to head back to my own dorm so I, too, could get some much-needed sleep.

Before I get very far, however, Draco grips my wrist, preventing me from continuing.

"Wait, Harry… stay with me." He says quietly, his eyes wide and earnest.

I pause for a moment, knowing that leaving would be the wiser decision, but his eyes win out against my wiser judgement, and I sigh.

"Okay. But nothing inappropriate, alright?" He gives me his most innocent smile and rolls onto his side, scooting back to make room for me.

I pull off my shoes and take off my belt and tie, leaving on my jeans and shirt so as to discourage any horny ideas that may pop into my head.

I pull out my wand and cast a nox, dousing the room in darkness. The bed dips when I lie down onto it, causing Draco to dip with it, so his body is pressed against my side.

His breath is warm against my neck, and I can't even try to sleep- all I can imagine is how close his lips are to my skin.

He seems to be equally as affected, because he pushes his hips into the side of my leg, reawakening my erection.

I try to ignore his advance, but when his hands start to drift down to my trousers, I give up and pull him over and on top of me.

He leans up so he is leaning over me, only our groins pressed together. He doesn't move, but instead walks his fingers to my shirt, where he slowly begins to unbutton my collar, moving down slowly.

I lean up to help him when he pulls off my shirt, throwing it off to the side. His hands drift down my stomach, following every dip and curve of muscle. My body quivers, every nerve focusing on the area which his fingers grace.

He starts to unbutton my jeans and pulls them off agonizingly slowly, his mouth following his hands down my legs, pressing quick kisses onto my thighs, knees, calves, and ankles. He tosses my trousers towards my shirt before crawling back up my body. I want to flip him over so I can kiss every inch of his body instead, but I refrain.

When he is seated over my pants-clothed cock, he starts to roll his hips, rubbing against me and driving me nearly insane.

When his hands drift up to unbutton his own shirt, I stop him. "No, don't take anything off. I don't know if I could stop myself if you were bare."

He smiles teasingly. His silvery eyes are surprisingly clear. "And what if I don't want you to stop?"

His words almost send me into a frenzy, and I thrust up once, hard, causing his eyes to roll back into his head.

"I can't take advantage of you while you're drunk, Draco. I want you to remember our first time."

He huffs a sigh and leans down for a kiss. I turn my face away from him, making him whine in protest.

"Not that either. I want you to remember our first kiss, too."

He gives up and resumes his thrusting, his eyes drifting closed. I hold myself back and don't let myself come, even though my body is begging for release.

He continues his movements, picking up speed, a low whine escaping his lips every time he thrusts down against me, making our cocks rub against each other in perfect alignment.

I deny myself the freedom to grab his hips and just rut against him frantically, because I know that I want him to remember the first time we come together, too.

A minute later, he comes, his hips jerking violently, his mouth open in a silent moan and his head thrown back, the tendons in his neck bulging out against his pale skin. I almost come at the sight.

He collapses onto my chest when he is spent, and I run my fingers through his hair until his breathing evens out and he starts to snore softly.

Once he is asleep, I roll him over gently and get up, headed towards the private bathroom. I close the door behind me and pull down my pants, taking my cock into my hand with a relieved groan. It only takes a few strokes before I am coming in spurts, my come splattering the wall in strings. I collapse back against the door when I am done, completely exhausted.

I spell away the mess and pull back up my pants before re-entering the room. Draco is lying peacefully on the bed, his face relaxed and angelic looking with the light from the full moon coming in through the high windows and spilling ethereal light over his face.

I consider leaving and going to my own bed for the night, but decide against it while looking at his beautifully face, innocent in sleep where it is unmarred by the pain of memory in consciousness. I didn't want him to wake up and be alone, especially after he told me that he wakes up regularly from nightmares that still haunt him, even so many months after the war ended.

I slide back into bed and curl my body around his, wrapping my arms around his torso and pulling him back against my chest. I allow myself to bury my face into his hair, reveling in its softness, before I drift off to sleep.

I sleep more soundly that night with him in my arms than I had in years.

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Notes:

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