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“Truth or Dare, or Drink,“ Ron shouted as he threw himself down on the sofa next to Potter.
Honestly, Draco could scarcely believe he was here. Sitting in Potter’s house sipping a bottle of beer (thank Circe his mother couldn’t see him). It had been a moment of weakness, Ron’s arm around his shoulders as he told him he’d done a brilliant job on the case today, and invited him back to his house for a drink with all of the other first year aurors.
It would be fine. No one knew about his crush on Potter and he’d never pick truth so no one had to know.
He watched with bemused confusion as Weasley lined up shot glasses on the coffee table.
"If you want out of the truth or dare you can take a shot,” Potter said just behind him, his breath ghosting over Draco’s ear and sending a shiver up his spine. “I learned the hard way not to say truth,” he added as Draco turned to look at him. “They are ruthless and will want to know your darkest secrets.”
“Not just darkest,” Finnegan called, “I’ll settle for dirtiest most of the time.”
Dean shoved him, “You’re disgusting. I can’t believe that I am dating your sorry arse,” he added, but a laugh as Finnegan tugged him in to plant a kiss on his cheek rather ruined the effect.
“Alright, settle down, you lot,” Ron called. “Here is the bowl that my brilliant girlfriend charmed to keep everything fair,” he said, setting the bowl behind the row of shots, “And here are everyone’s names,” he added, dumping in the scraps of parchment.
“Seamus, you should do the honors of starting us off since you were the last to go last time,” Potter called.
Finnegan gave a little bow and stepped up to the bowl, “Harry,” he said, with a wicked little grin.
“This is what I get for trying to be kind,” Potter laughed. “I will take a dare, obviously.”
“Kiss Malfoy,” he said without missing a beat.
Draco promptly choked on his beer and very nearly spit it out. “You don’t do things by half, do you?” he managed.
Potter, who had ended up sitting next to him, turned and pressed a kiss to his cheek, his lips soft and dry. Draco stopped himself from reaching up and letting his fingers brush over that spot on his cheek, but only just.
“Boo!” Seamus called. “That wasn’t a real kiss.”
The other man grinned widely at Finnegan, “You didn’t say it had to be a real kiss. You’ve got to be more specific,” he added before taking a sip of his beer. And Draco was almost impressed by his cunning.
Almost.
He watched as names were drawn and challenges were offered, so far no one had chosen to take a shot. Jensen pulled Draco’s name, he grinned, “I dare you to kiss Harry. On the lips.”
Draco looked over a Potter, who just smiled warmly at him, “Come on,” he said. “I won’t bite.” Then the corner of his mouth tipped up, putting that dimple that made Draco’s knees feel like jelly on prominent display, “Unless you’re into that.”
The room erupted in cheers and catcalls and Draco rolled his eyes, leaning in to press a quick peck to Potters full, soft lips.
Potter’s lips caught and held his for a moment before Draco drew back. He could feel his cheeks and neck flushing as the room demanded a ‘real’ kiss.
“Leave him alone,” Potter called, waving them off, “It’s his first night here. Don’t hassle him.”
The game continued and Draco watched as other people ended up kissing, as shirts got stripped out of, and as Dean took a shot rather than kiss Ron.
Potter got called next and Dean seemed to take pity on him, “Shirt off, Harry.”
He laughed and stood so he’d have enough room to take it off. As he pulled the worn, grey fabric over his head, Draco was treated to the view of his back and shoulder muscles flexing. Salazar, Potter was beautiful, his dark skin turned bronze in the light of the fire, broad shoulders tapered to a narrow waist.
He snapped his gaze away before he could get any more invested in looking at the other man.
Potter drew Allen’s name, Allen drew Finnegan, and then Finnegan drew Draco. His face lit up, “Excellent. Give Harry a proper kiss,” he said.
Swallowing down the unexpected excitement that his partially-inebriated mind insisted was warranted, Draco turned to Potter. The other man reached over and cupped Draco’s cheek in his palm, searching his eyes for a moment before leaning in kissing him.
His mouth moved slowly, sinuously over Draco’s for a long moment, as his fingers slid back into Draco’s hair as he sucked his lower lip into his mouth, scraping his teeth over it. Draco held back a whimper, but only just, as Potter pulled back with one last flicker of tongue.
Someone whistled and Potter laughed, Draco’s eyes flew open and he put his beer to his lips once more just to have something to do.
Draco’s name got drawn again two names later, “Sit in Harry’s lap,” Ron dared, taking his vengeance on Potter for his earlier dare.
Potter laughed and sat up a bit straighter to allow Draco enough room.
“For how long?” Draco asked.
“Until the next time one of you gets picked,” Ron replied.
Potter gave him a little smile and Draco stood up, and carefully positioned himself on Potter’s lap. The other man’s hand wrapped around Draco’s hip, steadying him, and Draco felt it like a brand through the layers of fabric he was wearing.
He squirmed a bit and Potter chuckled, his breath warm on Draco’s neck, “Comfortable?”
“Not especially,” Draco said, which was true only because his body seemed to think this was the most ideal position it had ever found itself in.
Potter’s thumb brushed back and forth over his hip. It was both oddly soothing and erotic at the same time. He didn’t ask him to stop.
The game continued and neither of them got picked for a little while, but then Draco’s name got called again.
“Might as well just turn around and kiss Harry again, don’t you think?” Will asked.
Draco huffed, “Is that really what all of you are going to keep doing all night.”
“Yes,” multiple people replied.
He sighed and turned around, straddling Potter’s lap and trying not to think about it too much. Bracing his hands on Potter’s bare chest, the heat of his body searing Draco’s skin, he leaned in and pressed his lips to Harry’s.
Harry sighed and wrapped his hands around Draco’s waist, drawing him nearer until their bodies were pressed together. The other man’s tongue flicked out along Draco’s bottom lip and Draco opened for him, allowing him to curl their tongues together.
After a moment, Draco broke off, his breath coming a bit faster than it ought to, his heart thundering against his ribs. Harry’s eyes were on him, taking in every minute detail as his hands trailed slowly up and down Draco’s sides; his gaze split Draco open leaving him even more breathless.
“Err, Draco?” Ron said, “You’re up mate.”
“Right,” Draco said, shaking his head and climbing off of Harry’s lap to draw a name.
He drew Ron, who drew Dean, who drew Harry.
Dean stared at him contemplatively for a moment and Draco felt uncomfortable on Potter’s behalf, in spite of the fact that the other man seemed nonplussed by the whole ordeal. Bloody Griffyndors.
“Kiss Draco somewhere that is not his lips, but is equally intimate.”
Murmurs erupted around the room but Harry turned to him, calmly took Draco’s hand in his, and turned it over to expose his wrist. His eyes held Draco’s as he lowered his lips to his pulse point and caressed the delicate skin there.
Pleasure raced up Draco’s spine, sending light bursting through every synapse in his brain. There was no reason that lips touching his wrist should feel that good.
All too soon the other man pulled away and the game continued.
Over the next half an hour, the game started to taper off as people began heading home and it wasn’t too long until Draco found himself with only Harry and Ron and the dares turned silly. Shortly after the floo opened and Hermione stepped out. “Ah,” she said, surveying the room, “Truth or Dare, I see.” She glanced over the three of them, then very abruptly said, “Ronald, I’m exhausted. Time for bed for the two of us, I think.”
“Right,” Ron said, nodding, “Last one, then.” He pulled out a name, “Harry.”
Harry stared at him for a long moment then surprised Draco completely by saying, “Truth.”
Ron grinned at him, “Tell Draco how you really feel about him,” he said as he stood up and clapped Harry on the shoulder before heading off to bed.
Harry was quiet for a long moment, staring ahead into the fire, before he said, “I really like you, Draco.”
Draco’s breath caught in his chest.
“Like a lot,” Harry continued, “It’s why they were after the two of us all night,” he confessed. “I chose 'truth’ with Seamus once and he asked, so here we are.”
He couldn’t unstick his tongue from the roof of his mouth, and frankly even if he could have managed it, he had no idea what he would have said.
“And I know,” Harry went on without looking at him, “That it’s ridiculous to even hope that someone like you could like someone like me-”
“Sorry,” he interrupted, snapped out of his confusion by whatever Potter was trying to insinuate. “Someone like you?” he asked. “There is literally no one else like you.”
Harry finally looked over at him, “There’s no one like you either.”
“Harry,” he whispered.
“Yeah?”
He cleared his throat, why was he nervous? Harry had literally already said he liked him. “I like you, too,” he said.
“Yeah?”
Nodding, he said, “I thought that would have been abundantly clear after tonight. I think their dares were about both of us, not just you.”
“Thank Merlin for that,” Harry said as he lunged at Draco, pinning him on his back on the sofa and kissing him quite thoroughly.
Draco threaded his fingers through Harry’s hair, tugging him down until the weight of his body pressed him into the couch. Fingers slipped under the hem of his shirt and Draco let out a whimper.
“You feel so good,” Harry murmured against his mouth before trailing kisses along Draco’s jaw and neck. “Stay tonight,” he murmured. “I promise to behave,” he added, sitting up slightly, “Just let me hold you and kiss you.”
“I’d like that,” Draco replied, smiling up at him.
Harry grinned back, “Come on,” he said, standing up and tugging Draco up with him. “The best thing about staying over on Fridays is that Ron always make pancakes on Saturday morning.”
Draco hummed at that, slipping his fingers through Harry’s as the other man started walking toward a bedroom. “I might just have to always stay on Friday nights.”
“Or,” Harry said as he pushed open the door to his room and gestured toward the bed, “You could just always stay. Period.”
“Ask me again in the morning,” Draco said with a little smile, “When we haven’t been drinking, and I’ll say yes.”
“Alright,” Harry said, folding down the covers and inviting Draco into the bed, “I’ll hold you to it.”
And when they woke up the next morning, Harry asked him to move in and Draco said yes to always.