Queer & There

Chapter Twelve
Feeling Slightly Uncomfortable

Draco curled up in his bed on Saturday morning, feeling slightly uncomfortable despite being tucked away under his duvet. He was staring at the ceiling, listening for sounds of Harry stirring. He was pleased to see there were none yet.

Having not spoken to Harry again since he had returned home the night before, Draco had sulked in his room, almost hoping the other boy would attempt a full on apology, with chocolate and ice cream and vodka. Instead he had heard the front door close and then open again a few hours later. After that had come two familiar male voices - one of course being Harry - and then, Draco had heard the beginnings of something he hadn't wanted to hear. At all.

This was when he had taken to hiding under his duvet, and now he was tangled up in it. He was hot and miserable, and could feel the pit of his stomach like a rock was stuck at the bottom. More than anything, he hated Dean Thomas.

Finally, far too many hours too late, there was a little knock on the door. Draco groaned dramatically and called out, "Draco's not here! Evil gays came in the night and stole him!"

Harry poked his head round the door, an annoyingly cute smile on his lips. "You alive then?"

"No."

Another small smile flickered on the other boy's expression, as Harry leaned his head gently against the wall and raised his eyebrows. "No?"

"Nope," Draco confirmed. "I've died in the night from roommate negligence." He buried his head under the covers then, made a little whiny noise and then a more audible one as he felt Harry sit on the edge of the bed. "Go away."

He felt Harry poke him in the ankle, and pouted underneath the layers of blanket - this was rather brave of the other boy, considering Draco was so much stronger and masculine than him. Clearly he could take him, if need be. However, he supposed he could give Harry at least some benefit of the doubt, and finally the top of Draco's head emerged from under the covers. His hair was messy and out of place, and he looked very much a child.

"Where did you go last night?" Draco asked reluctantly, and Harry shrugged. "I guess if you don't remember it must have been a good one."

"Just went to Dean's," Harry replied after a moment, and there was something in his tone that made Draco sit up slightly. "We came back here after."

Draco nodded, and made a face. "I heard."

"Ah." Harry shifted, and Draco could tell he was slightly uncomfortable. "Can we have a chat?"

"Well, that depends what sort of chat it is," Draco started, turning his gaze to Harry as he sat up properly. "If it's about breakfast-" He grinned a bit, looking slightly impish.

Harry did not appear to share his enthusiasm. "It's not about breakfast, it's... about last night, I guess."

Draco took this in and was quiet again for a moment as though contemplating. "Well, can I at least shower first? I'm not wearing anything." He had never seen Harry move so fast as the other boy jumped off the bed. "Thanks, Potter, that's encouraging. Cover your eyes then."

Harry immediately did so, clamping a hand over his eyes as Draco got up out of bed. It was so dramatic that Draco wondered if the other boy wasn't taking tips from him, and he grinned slightly despite feeling rather awkward.

"Are you still naked?" Harry asked, and Draco noted his voice was slightly squeaky. "I can't see anything, I swear."

Draco laughed a little. "I'm going to take a shower." He grabbed a towel and made his way to the bathroom, leaving Harry standing a few feet away from his bed, hand still covering his eyes as though his life depended on it.

* * *

When Draco finally removed himself from the shower around thirty minutes later, he found Harry still sat on the edge of his bed. He couldn't quite be sure what the other boy was doing other than just - staring into space, and so Draco cleared his throat gently so as to make his presence known.

Harry looked up, smiled a bit, and then looked horrified. "You're not wearing much," was all he seemed to be able to say, and Draco rolled his eyes.

"I just showered, Harry."

"Yeah, but... you're not- you're all wet." Draco wondered if this was difficult for Harry, and was starting to feel rather pleased with himself. He was, indeed, damp from his shower still, his hair gently tousled and dripping occasionally onto the back of his neck. He was very aware that Harry's eyes were fixed on one particular point of his chest.

Deciding the best thing to do would be to brush this off, Draco went about pulling a t-shirt on, and started to style his hair. Ten minutes passed before he turned away from his mirror and stabbed Harry with an accusatory look.

"Why are you still looking at me?"

"I'm not!" Harry exclaimed, although his expression was slightly guilty. "I was just- it's a very nice mirror." He cleared his throat awkwardly, and averted his eyes before they very quickly caught Draco's again. "Uh- are you going to be long?"

Draco shrugged. "If you keep interrupting me. I'm trying to do my hair."

A little smile flickered on Harry's lips. "And we all know how long that takes," he concluded, rising to his feet and starting toward the bedroom door. He was almost opening it before, once again, he looked back at Draco. "We could talk while you do your hair."

"Doing my hair requires a lot of concentration," Draco explained, his lips in a frown and one hand still absently detangling strands of silver blond. "It's almost a full time job!"

"Well, what if I just talked?" Harry suggested with what looked like a very hopeful smile, and Draco shrugged. He didn't particularly care if Harry talked at him - he refused to let himself care. Yes.

This, however, did not seem to work out as the best idea, after all. Draco turned back to his reflection, which cooed over him and told him how wonderful he was, and every time Harry's lips parted so he could start to say something, the reflection in the mirror shot him such a resentful look that Harry appeared stunned into silence.

Draco found this all terribly amusing, and continued to take his time - perhaps more so than usual. He wasn't particularly looking forward to having this 'chat' with Harry anyway, and the fact that Harry was perched on his bed like a nervous kitten was making Draco quite uncomfortable. He didn't want to think what might be so important, and he especially didn't like the way that having Harry in his bedroom felt - different than it had. It felt slightly more forbidden.

Finally, after another thirty minutes of waiting on Harry's part - and intense hair care on Draco's - the mirror announced happily, "My my, you look fabulous! All done, I'd say." An audible, and clearly relieved, sigh came from Harry's side of the room, and Draco beamed a bit.

"Do I look okay?" he asked, striking a rather dramatic pose that was no doubt familiar to Harry at this point. However, the other boy did not reply, just swallowed and shrugged. Draco was horribly offended. "I asked you if I looked okay! Does my - is something not right?" His expression was one of pure horror.

Harry shrugged again. "Yeah, well."

"That's not even an appropriate response!" Draco exclaimed, turning back to the mirror and rather forgetting all about any inconveniences caused by having Harry in his bedroom. He still looked quite upset, although he was determined not to let his lower lip tremble as it quite wanted to. "Does my hair look okay?"

"Are you being purposefully thick?"

Draco pouted. "No." He paused, and frowned a bit. "About what? My hair?"

It was Harry's turn to say, "No," although it was with a more obvious degree of frustration. Draco had just sounded put out, while Harry was clearly quite upset about something that Draco was still trying to figure out.

"Well, about what then?" he asked after a minute or two passed, during which both men were quiet. Draco could feel discomfort rising in the pit of his stomach, and remembered that they were supposed to be having a serious talk today, one that didn't involve his hair.

He bit his lip. "Oh." There was another pause. "I don't really know if I want to talk about that."

"Well, I think we should anyway." Harry's expression was stubborn, and Draco's was faintly sulky, although there was a definite hint of worry in his eyes.

After a pause, Draco muttered, "Alright, then."

* * *

It was very hard for Draco to really know what he wanted to say to Harry. If he'd been given the time to think it through, it would have lasted for hours - as it happened, he had spent a great deal of time purposefully not thinking about how on Earth he felt. In fact, it could be said that it was one of Draco's downfalls not to think. He was perfectly aware of the fact that he spent a lot of time Doing and not Considering, although in this case he hadn't really done much of either.

Considering in this case meant asking himself what was going on, and opening up to the idea that his life might be changing. Because it was such a big change, he couldn't help but feel - it made his head hurt, and it made him nervous and it made him sweat. Draco had lost a lot of sleep thinking about this.

Actually, he had lost a lot of sleep thinking about Harry.

However, he had only really come to the conclusion that he didn't - for once - want to Do anything. Doing meant acting on something he wasn't at all sure of, and while he had kissed Harry, he hadn't really been thinking at the time. It had been impulsive and stupid and very Draco of him, he thought, and while normally he might think it had been endearing, now that Harry was sitting on the sofa opposite him - looking at him - Draco was quite scared.

He knew what this conversation was. He knew Harry would want to talk about things, because Draco was finally starting to admit to another person that there were things. The fact that the other person was Harry meant something, and Draco knew that his life was actually going to be something very different than he had expected, after all.

It was just difficult. It was difficult trying to be straight, because all he could think about was Harry, but it was near impossible trying to be gay, because Draco knew he wasn't. The date with Seth had told him as much - he wasn't particularly concerned with most men. But then again, he wasn't currently concerned with most women, either.

Hermione had been a slip up, he knew. Hermione had been something else entirely - she was gorgeous, and she had nice boobs and fairly good hair. She was intelligent, and sort of gutsy, and she would have been a nice distraction for a while had she come around to the idea. However, perhaps it was a better thing that she hadn't after all, Draco thought.

Perhaps he should just- but when he looked at Harry again, his stomach flipped and he thought, perhaps not. Perhaps he shouldn't just... anything.

They both opened their mouths to speak at the same time, Harry with a resigned, "Look, I know you're probably not-"

Draco said much the same thing, more quietly, "I know I'm not- what? What were you going to say?" He swallowed a little, shifting his weight slightly and biting his lower lip.

"It doesn't matter." They were silent again for a long time, and Draco couldn't help but see the irony in deciding they had to Talk and then not actually saying anything at all. He looked at Harry, stood up, and sat down next to him.

A very small smile settled on his mouth as he quirked an eyebrow. "Right, so. We're both twats."

Harry rolled his eyes. "How am I a twat? I hardly think I'm the one who's being a twat when you're the one who - mmph-" He was cut off with a fairly awkward kiss from the other man, who was sitting in entirely the wrong place and was twisting his neck with slight difficulty. Draco's mouth was slightly underneath Harry's as well, so that their lips were mismatched and he couldn't quite part them. He pulled away instead.

Rather than looking pleased, Harry had his eyebrows raised, and his general expression was suspicious. "What was that supposed to be?"

"It was- well, I mean, it would have been a kiss if..."

Harry gave him a sceptical look. "An actual kiss, or a kiss that means you come down with miraculous amnesia in twenty four hours time?" Draco didn't say anything, and didn't move - their lips were still very close. "I have a boyfriend."

Draco took a breath, and he could feel his confidence building slightly despite Harry's lack of enthusiasm. This felt familiar, this felt like something Draco could do - pursuing was something he was good at. Being with the opposite sex was something he was Good At.

But Harry wasn't a girl, and he wasn't sure, and even as Draco murmured in response, "You don't have to have one," he could tell Harry was wavering between this suggestion and remaining loyal to Dean.

"How am I supposed to trust you?" Harry asked quietly, shifting so that he could move his head backwards slightly. Draco moved as well, sitting up but adjusting his body in case there was another reason to. "You've done this before, Draco. You did stuff like this all the time in school to girls. I've seen you. You did it to me."

Draco nodded, and frowned a little. "I know-"

"You don't know," was the response, Harry's tone slightly shaky as though he wasn't sure if he was allowed to say things like this to Draco Malfoy. It had been a long time since he had really tried to tell the other boy he was completely wrong. "You have no idea. That's what I- that's what we needed to talk about." Harry paused. "I like you, Draco."

This wasn't exactly news to Draco, but he took it with a rather sharp intake of breath, and Harry looked up at this. Draco immediately wished he hadn't reacted, but it was hard not to. He had never imagined having this conversation with Harry Potter, and a part of him wished very much that he didn't have to. A part of him wished he didn't care so much that Harry liked him.

However, Harry didn't seem to have finished, and so Draco swallowed, and nodded as though to allow him to go on. "There's a but, in case you didn't guess already."

"There's always a but," Draco muttered, his expression childish for a moment and his demeanour one of a sulky four year old.

"If I fuck this up, Draco-" The blond looked up at both the harshness of Harry's tone and his own name being spoken. "-then all I'm going to hear is 'I told you so'. If I just get rid of Dean and decide you deserve a chance.. I mean, come on- you're quite possibly the most unreliable person in the world."

Draco pouted. "I thought you found that sweet!"

Harry gave a little roll of his eyes. "Yeah, it's sweet when you forget to meet me for lunch. It's even kind of sweet when you don't remember to fill out insurance forms for the club property - which you still haven't done-"

"I was getting my hair cut! I was distracted! It was shiny! They used this stuff, it was amazing-"

"Draco, that's not the point." Harry glared at him for a moment, before quite visibly softening despite himself. "If you're going to be my boyfriend, you're going to have to mean it. And you're really going to have to fill in those forms, I'm not going to let my boyfriend's club explode or something and then have him complain when he doesn't get any money. Which he would." Harry raised an eyebrow. "Wouldn't he?"

Draco shrugged. "Dunno," he muttered, and his head was a confusing mixture of elation and stubborn insistence that he had meant to give in those forms weeks ago. It was a weird thought to be having when Harry was inching slightly closer to him.

"If you promise," he started quietly, looking thoughtful, "-and you really have to mean it - If you promise to not freak out once a week about the fact that you're not straight-" Draco opened his mouth to protest, and Harry cut him off quite immediately with a firm, "And you're not..."

Another pout settled on Draco's lips. "Fine. But I could be."

Harry smiled slightly. "Alright, I can live with that. If you tried very hard, you could be not attracted to men."

"I could," Draco beamed a bit. "I was very not attracted to men for years."

"I can't believe I'm having this conversation," Harry remarked, but as he said it he let his fingers sneak down to slip in between Draco's.

Momentarily surprised by this, Draco raised his eyes to Harry's and bit his lower lip. His own fingers separated and one hooked around Harry's.

Draco raised his eyebrows, and found himself very pleased when Harry returned the gesture in what seemed a very playful way. "I can't believe you're holding my bloody hand. Is this as gay as it gets?"

Harry laughed. "Not exactly. But I won't scare you off yet."

"Good. Yay." Draco paused, then added for good measure, "Yay."