Drarry One Shots

Deja Vu SMUT

So I reallllyyyy wanted to write a one shot based off of Deja Vu by 3Oh!3. Well. Maybe based off of is a little light. It's pretty much exactly the song lyrics from Harry's POV. I actually have the song on replay as I'm writing this. Doesn't match the lyrics perfectly. But ah well. I needed to make it semi-normal. I highly suggest you listen to the song as you read this.

SMUT WARNING.

~~~

Harry sighed as the music thrummed throughout the building, the bodies thumping and grinding along to the music. This wasn't new. He had been frequenting Muggle bars for ages now. He was starting to hate the repetitiveness of it now, though. How long had he been repeating the same steps?

He raised his hand to grab the attention of the bartender. "Hey Bartender, mix me a drink! Somethin' strong!" He called out, and the guy nodded, and Harry sighed once again. I should stop, I'm already tipsy...but I need something to tell me it's okay not to think, he thought, smiling as the drink slid to him.

Harry idly wondered if there were any more bars in the area he had yet to visit. I bet I've been to all the bars...seen all the places there are, he mused. I'll bet by now I've heard all the same conversations. 

Harry trudged out of the building sometime later, crushed into the body of some blond guy. He called a cab, and then they were off. Cab driver cab driver, take me away, Harry thought, almost bitterly. 

I already know everything you're gonna say, Harry thought, as glancing at the blond as though he could here him. You'll be jumping out the window at the first sign of day, he mused ruefully.

~~~

"Every single night seems to go the same way." Harry murmured quietly to himself the next morning, pulling the blanket close to himself for the warmth that was taken by the now missing body.

I swear. It's Deja Vu, Harry grumbled to himself as he slipped back into sleep, his body still sore from the night before.

A few days later, Harry walked into a bar, as per usual. He narrowed his eyes upon entry. I think I've been here before...he thought, looking around. The chairs, colors and floor lay out did seem familiar.

His eyes skimmed over the occupants of the room. They stuttered on one person though. I think I've run into you before...Harry let the thought trail off, shaking his head and moving to the bar. It was likely that the muggle frequented the bar, so he wasn't all that troubled. At least I know that things that you do, Harry mused, gazing at the bartender. Bloody Deja Vu.

Ah, Mr Bartender, Harry thought, a wiry smile on his lips. You'll have to kick me out tonight...

His eyes cast around the room again, stopping on some random blond in the back of the room. You'll probably be the one to stick their tongue down my mouth, Harry nodded to his own thoughts. He agreed with himself.

His eyes traveled around the room again, spotting one of the many Muggle brutes he had labeled as a 'greaser'. They were prone to pick fights.

He'll probably kick my ass, since I'm drunk practically every night.

Many hours later, a drunk Harry was indeed getting kicked out of the bar by the bartender, after fighting with the previously mentioned 'greaser'. Both he and the brute were met with police cars, which took him to a holding cell til tomorrow. Luckily he was put in a different cell than the one that he had gotten in a fight with.

When he was released the next morning, head pounding from a hangover, he glanced at the surrounding officers, wondering how many times this repeated before he was thrown for a longer length of time than a night.

Harry lay in bed a week later, bed once again empty upon waking up though he had gone to sleep with another occupant. It was getting very tiring and annoying. Every time he woke up alone he felt even more unworthy than he had before. More like he was just a thing to be used. He had tried it every way, to break the cycle. 

Demanding, gentle, sub, dom, (though he liked to sub more than he liked to dom) up, down, different places in the bloody house! It always came back around to the same thing, somehow. Nothing changed the pattern! It was driving him insane!

This went on for a while, Harry would go out once or twice a week, constantly changing bars, always muggle bars, even varying in types. Rave. Gay. Irish. Sport. Anything! 

So when he went into a rave bar, the lights flashing, music thrumming and vibrating the whole building, Harry was completely unprepared for the change in pattern.

He had been sitting at the bar, eyeing the occupants of the room. His normal routine. Half an hour later he was on his third drink, and feeling slightly tipsy.

He had been staring at his glass when the chair next to him moved. He payed no mind. Not until he felt a hand grab his chin and turn his head violently to the side.