when it's all over ♤ drarry

chapter//eighteen

just a warning beforehand, this chapter is... repetitive, in a way. it's all over the place but i needed a way to express how they both feel about the situation(s) at hand.

//

They didn't speak about that night again for a long time, but they both thought about it very often. Draco thought about it because he was curious as to what Harry was hiding, or at least, what he didn't tell him. He didn't bring it up because he didn't want to push Harry, although the younger boy never took that into consideration. There were a lot of things he didn't take into consideration. Especially now, because he was currently pushed against a wall with lips attacking his neck, his hands tangled in the man's dyed-red hair.

He didn't take consequences into consideration.

Harry's hips were grinding against the other man's, and he didn't even remember his name. But, it didn't really matter, considering how they both made it clear all they wanted was a quick fuck and no more. In fact, Harry was pretty sure the other guy didn't remember his name anyway, so it was even. Harry couldn't fight back the moan that slipped past his lips when the guy lowered himself, teasing Harry's nipples with his tongue before trailing lower... lower...

//

Draco sat alone at the apartment, a bowl of cold soup in his lap while he gazed out the window. Harry had been going out a lot at night, mostly telling Draco he needed a walk, he needed to go get a drink, he needed to go out because of work. What kind of journalist had to go roam the streets at ten at night? He wasn't stupid, despite whatever Harry thought of him, he really wasn't. He knew Harry was cheating, whether it was the same person or a different person every time, Draco had learned not to care.

He learned not to care because it made Harry happier, there were no more arguments or petty little spats. It was all okay now. Draco sighed and set the bowl of soup on the coffee table, lazily getting up and wandering into the kitchen. He wasn't hungry, he just needed a distraction. All he could think of was Harry with some other guy's cock shoved up his ass and he didn't much care for the mental image. 

He wasn't sure what had happened, but Harry had changed so much since they had first gotten together. It was a little over two years ago now and he couldn't believe it had been so long ago. He rested his forehead against the cool window above the kitchen sink, but he couldn't drag himself back down to reality. What was worse, he couldn't seem to find it in his heart to confront Harry about what was happening behind his back. Maybe he just didn't want Harry to know that he knew because if he knew he'd probably stop, and he'd be unhappy again, and the arguments would come back and it would only be a matter of time before one of them left.

He was upset, of course, but he still got to see his favorite parts of Harry. The sensitive, sweet, kind side of him. He didn't know if he was the only person who saw that side of him but he hoped, he needed that hope to keep himself sane. His thoughts were scattered, he couldn't seem to think of anything other than Harry right now. But he knew it would be unlikely Harry would be back before sunrise, climbing into bed with him and kissing the nape of his neck before falling fast asleep, leaving Draco's skin burning where he'd touched him.

Draco grabbed a glass and threw it against the wall, watching it shatter and rain to the ground like snow, just... worse. Draco shrank to the floor, ignoring the way to glass pricked his skin where he sat, where he made an effort to pick up the small shards of glass. It reminded him of Harry. That boy was glass, broken, shattered glass, but Draco was still picking up every piece of him and holding it close and holding it tight until his hands bled, until his soul was stained with blood.

//

Harry was laying in bed next to the guy he'd went home with. He was fast asleep and snoring rather loudly, something Draco didn't do. Draco, Harry repeated to himself, frowning. He untangled himself from the red-haired man and went into the bathroom to shower before he left, an offer the man had given to him before falling asleep. It was a brief shower, just to clean the come off his body and make sure he didn't smell like sex. Once he climbed out, he dried his hair and did his best to avoid looking at himself in the mirror. He knew he wouldn't like what he saw.