Drarry Oneshots

Where Did the Party Go?

Genre: Fluff?

Warnings: Brief mentions of vomiting, but nothing detailed.

Word Count: 1.49k+

Summary: Draco has maybe a few too many drinks. It's a good thing Potter is there to help him.

Draco Malfoy was definitely NOT drunk. He was a little tipsy and everyone saying he was hammered well, they were simply stupid. He would know if he was drunk. He feels fine. '

He was feeling fine and everything was definitely not spinning. His head definitely didn't feel like it was filled with static. He definitely did not have to throw up.

"Draco, I think it's time you went to bed," Pansy was running her hands up and down his sides while he held onto the toilet rim. He wanted to lay his head on the seat but thought that it would probably be the most disgusting thing he would ever do if he did. It would feel so nice and cool, the porcelain would cool his overheated cheeks.

"Ew, that's disgusting! Get your face off there!" Blaise yells from the doorway, Draco just enjoys the cold.

"Shut the fuck up," Draco mumbles or that's what he tried to say. He thinks it may have come out as more of a 'shudthafuckup.'

"Blaise, darling," Pansy starts, she knew it was a bad idea to let Draco chug that entire bottle of Firewhiskey by himself. "Go get Potter."

Draco doesn't have enough in him to protest, why do they need to get Potter?

Draco doesn't really know how much time has passed, all he knows is that he is tired but if he closes his eyes too long everything spins so fast he might hurl. Okay, maybe he has had a little too much to drink. But he would rather die than admit that.

"Draco?" The soft voice makes him open his eyes. Of course, the saviour is there to well, save him he supposes. "How are you feeling?"

Draco wants to laugh, but he thinks if he does he will vomit. He instead lets out a tiny snort and immediately regrets it. His stomach is churning and he doesn't care how pathetic he looks.

"Well, he's all yours. Good luck, Potter!" Blaise and Pansy are both rushing out of the bathroom leaving only Draco and Potter. Draco wonders if this is purposeful. They obviously have to know about Draco's horrible crush on the fool. Of course, that's why he is here.

"Thanks," Potter says to the empty doorway. Draco lets out a little giggle, Potter is handing him a small vial of something. He supposes this is Potter's master plan. Murder him with some sort of poison while he is terribly inebriated.

"Are you trying to poison me?" Draco asks watching the way Potter's lips turn down but still somehow looking amused.

"No, why would I do that?" Potter is standing up grabbing a rag and dampening it under the faucet of the sink.

"Why wouldn't you?"

Potter just raises his eyebrows, his lips curling into a small smile.

"How much have you had to drink?" Potter asks gently pulling Draco away from the toilet seat, where his face is still pressed. "Also please tell me if you are going to hurl so I can avoid that."

"I'm not going to." Draco protests trying—and failing—to look offended. It comes off as more of a pitiful pout. Potter is just shaking his head lightly, his smile not fading. "I'm not drunk."

Potter lets out a little chuckle as he pulls Draco practically into his lap.

"You keep telling yourself that." Potter gently guides Draco's head onto his shoulder, placing the rag on his forehead as he leans back into the wall. Draco's back fits quite comfortably between Potter's arms, his chest rising and falling slowly in a way that has Draco relaxing even more.