A Moment of Weakness

Damn ass damn I have not written in a damn ass damn time. Oh well. I reread some of the comments some people have written for me and felt so frickin' touched by it all that I had to write again. So this is sort of a more in depth story to When Egos Clash. If you want porn/smut, go there, or just wait a chapter or two for this one. Or who knows, there might be just enough in this chapter for you. Either way, less Author Notes, let's get this crap of a show on the road!

Chapter 1

His horrible self-loathing and loss of self-worth forced Draco Malfoy to find solace in the Room of Requirement. It was a place he, like so many before him, thought had never before been discovered. The sad fact that many a wizard had already stumbled upon, though, was not told to Draco because he was already having such a terrible day that day that some god, Draco is not sure which, decided to keep this secret from him, for the time being. Draco would soon find out in a matter of moments that the god had changed his ways or was always a dick, just adding more blind hope to make the pain all the more sweeter.

Either way, today was not Draco's day. Not to say that there was one significant moment that lead to his arrival in this magical room. It was more of the growing depression and angst that was tearing him apart that eventually made him to find himself in that specific hallway thinking "I need to find my happy place before my sad place eats me up." Draco, obviously, was having a moment of weakness, using phrases like "happy place" and thinking a place could eat him, when in his mind he could find no possible way of this happening. Places, or more specifically, rooms, do not eat people. Walls, maybe, or a chair, but not a place.

The causes to Draco's anger and sadness had to do with the people in his life whom he cared for and whom he felt did not care for him. He felt alone for the sole reason that he was not getting enough attention. Draco's self-obsession was getting so large that he felt if not enough people were looking at him, he felt he did not exist. This was the major and sole reason for his departure from the Slytherin common room. This reason, however, can be broken down into many smaller parts, but Draco was so enfuriated at the world that he could not even think of them at that moment. They all blurred into blindness so that his fury could not let him see what he was furious at. He merely sat there, peeved, figuring out what to do.

Should he wank off? That was his normal response to this type of situation. "England's Naughtiest Witches" lay underneath the cushion of the couch that seemed to have grown smaller since the last time he had used this room. He, of course, mistook this for his growing body's effect on perception and the obvious symbolism this switch of furniture represented. This realization would not come until later when he was confronted with a more surprising, albeit cliche, predicament.

It was at that moment, the moment when an erotic tingling boiled in his crotch over the naughtiness he thought of by jerking off in public, a feeling he felt anytime he thought of touching himself, that the door to the Room of Requirement opened to a man of similar shape, though taller and better built, though not to say Draco was not built himself, it's just that this intruder had more of a physique, especially more than the average British male, who was as lanky as a kitten.

"Fucking ginger," the intruder muttered under his breath.

"Ah, is that McLaggen, I hear?" Draco said, trying to hide his embarrassing depression.

"What of it, fucker?" Cormac responded.

"I just didn't think I'd hear that kind of talk from a snobby Griffyndor."

"Well, fuck you, too. Dick. I know you're as pissed off as I am."

"How could you tell?" Malfoy asked, surprised that he felt his not-so-good disguise was seen right through.

"Because when I walked by, I wished for a room with someone who felt as bad as I did so I could talk."

"Well, if you must ask," Draco began, always eager to talk about himself when given the opportunity, "my life does suck."

"Oh, does it, little Voldemort youth?"

"Don't you fucking say his name. He's the reason for most of my problems. That, and that twat, Harry."

"Oh, don't even say that douche's name. Who does he think he is? 'Oh, I'm the chosen one. Look at me, I'm the greatest Griffyndor/Quidditch player in the whole goddamn world. Everyone love me.'"

"What a dick. Why does everyone look up to him? He's so self-absorbed," Draco said, not realizing these words could easily be said about him.

"Agreed," Cormac replied, not realizing either the irony of his statement.

"I mean, he doesn't even have a father who yells at him all the fucking time, never noticing him or thinking he's a piece of shit," Draco said, once again not realizing the horridness of his words.

"Thank you! I always try to live up to my father! Harry doesn't know how good he has it."

"Wait," Draco stated, finding someone whom he thinks has the same predicament as he does. "You hate your father as well?"

"Oh yeah, the prick. Always asks too much of me. Thinks I need to fill his shoes. He'll be pissed I didn't get onto the team."

"The team? You didn't get it?" Draco asked.

"No, because Harry used his fucking nepotism to get the worst fucking player on the team. He's a ginger! Doesn't even have a soul!"

"So true," Draco said, not realizing that it was not true because nepotism was the wrong word to use, since Harry and Ron are not actually siblings.

"Not to mention Hermione is deeply in love with the bloke. It's mad! How could she be in love with Ron! He's hideous!"

Draco, having tried to find solace in this room, instead found solace in this boy. As he spewed words of contempt, he could relate to everything. He felt he wasn't good enough. The girl he was courting was not responding to his charms. Everything McLaggen said, Malfoy agreed wholeheartedly, even if the ideas were half-baked and thought of from an idiot.

Malfoy began to start feeling something tingling inside of him. Thinking he was straight, he had no idea what he was feeling. He was not sure whether these feelings came from his crotch or from his heart. Was it lust he was after? Or love? His heart seemed to flutter a way he had never felt before. At the same time, his dick began to stiffen, though he seemed to think this was just the random hard-on all men got on occasion. Of course, Draco was too oblivious to realize that what he was feeling was attraction towards the boy, and affection, and admiration.

Draco of course did not realize this until a moment of weakness when he reached over and kissed the boy who was sitting beside him on what he now realized was no longer a sofa but a loveseat designed for two.

Well, that turned out angrier than I expected. I mean, I was planning on the characters to be angry, but I didn't think I would start hating them. I think I have been watching too much Arrested Development, which influenced my writing in this story. Anyway, reviews and I'll keep writing, though this is most likely going to be a pretty short piece.