Hide and Seek

Chapter 9

Harry had lost his mind. Certifiably.

It shouldn't have come as a surprise, really. Being locked up in this cottage, completely cut off from the rest of the world, with nobody else but Draco Malfoy for company, it would push even the strongest of minds over the edge. Copious amounts of alcohol and a years-long dry spell had only expedited his descent into madness.

Yet here he was, lying in bed naked next to Draco. He had tried his best to listen to that little voice in the back of his mind telling him that sleeping with Draco was a bad idea for a variety of reasons. But the moment Draco had put his hand on Harry's dick, he was a goner. The voice of reason was spirited away beneath a fog of drunkenness and lust. It was only now as he was beginning to sober up that it had returned, and it was shaking its head in disappointment at Harry.

Harry rolled over and looked at Draco. He was fast asleep now, snoring loudly and drooling on the pillow, with a look of contentment on his face that Harry had never seen before. He did look adorable like this, Harry thought. Draco's sharp features softened in his sleep, his lips lax and his normally perfectly sculpted hair was all mussed up. Harry resisted the temptation to tuck a blond lock of hair behind Draco's ear. Instead, he climbed out of bed as quietly as he could and headed back downstairs.

After drinking copious amounts of water, Harry fell asleep again on the couch. He woke a few hours later to the smell of bacon wafting in from the kitchen. His stomach twinged with hunger, and when he opened his eyes, he was surprised to find a blanket had been thrown over him. A wave of nausea hit him as he rose to his feet and shuffled into the kitchen with the blanket wrapped firmly around his shoulders. When he entered the kitchen, Harry was shocked to see Draco standing at the stove cooking breakfast.

Draco stood at the stove with his green silk house coat and matching pajamas, humming away to himself as he prodded at the burning bacon and sausage on the frying pan. It was such a domestic and bizarre sight to see, Harry thought that he must be suffering from some kind of alcohol-induced hallucination.

"What're you doing?" he croaked.

Draco turned and an amused grin spread across his face at the sight of Harry. "And a good morning to you, too. I must say, you're looking a little worse for wear this morning."

"Believe me, I feel worse than I look," Harry replied. "My head's pounding."

Draco chuckled. "Well, it can't be any worse than my arse, after what you did to it last night."

Harry groaned and covered his face with the blanket. "I'm so sorry about that."

"Sorry about what?" asked Draco brightly. He'd turned his attention back to the frying pan. "Sit down, will you? You look like you're about to keel over. I've just boiled the kettle, would you like some tea? Oh no, you're a coffee drinker, aren't you? Vile tasting stuff, I don't know how you can drink it. Still, I'll make it for you, if you'd like."

"I'm fine, thanks," said Harry, although he felt far from it.

He shuffled towards the kitchen table and slumped into a chair, wincing as his bare arse made contact with the cold wooden surface. It was only then that Harry realised that he was still naked, with only the blanket protecting his modesty. He rearranged the blanket to make sure that he wasn't flashing Draco before beginning his apology again.

"Last night I was completely out of line," he began. "I drank too much and let my feelings...but that's no excuse, I shouldn't have done it in the first place."

Draco frowned. "What on earth are you talking about?"

"Us! Having sex!" Harry despaired. "It was unprofessional, unethical...it was just plain wrong."