Something More - Chapter Two: The Morning After
They always tell you that you can make it through anything. 'This too, shall pass' or whatever. The thing is, you can make it through something and still never get over it. I was a pretty good example of someone who didn't get over it. I survived things that would have broken lesser people. Maybe they did, I don't know. Torture at the hands of the Dark Lord for failing to kill the aging icon of the Light side isn't the kind of the thing that's meant to be easily forgotten and I didn't. For years it haunted me and so the first method I came up with for managing the pain, I stuck to. It turned out to be sex and drugs and eventually just sex. The thing about it is, I jumped from bed to bed, I wasn't overly discriminate about my partners, and it was never that good. Well, it was good for my body most of the time. Not always, but most of the time. And it gave me something to focus on aside from the pain and the nightmares and the knowledge of what had happened to me and that was good. So when did things get so fucked up? Suddenly I was a family man, adopting two lesbian mothers and their four little children and that's when I stopped the drug use. And then they asked for a favor and nine months later I was a father and a few days after that... I was in bed with a Weasley. My entire world had just been flipped on its fucking ear and I didn't mind. At least not half as much as I most definitely should have. That was the frightening part because you get used to living life a certain way. That means not having to worry about being a father. That means not waking up in your lover's arms and liking it. And I didn't know what the hell to do about any of it.
*****
The first thing Ron did when attaining consciousness was shut his eyes tightly against the intensely painful light coming in through the windows. Once he realized his eyes had been closed all along he clapped his free hand over them. That was much better. Three realizations then hit him at the same time: a) his other arm wasn't free because someone was on it b) that same someone was also sprawled halfway across chest and the top of their head was under his chin and c) ...he'd slept with Draco Malfoy. Ron's hand fell to the bed and he opened his eyes, barely wincing at the pain due to his shock. "Fuck." It was a whisper, really. This was bad...
Draco had become rather infinitely familiar with this manner of awakening. His head felt heavy, his throat dry and his tongue fuzzy and he knew, without moving an inch, that he was hung over. Being hung over was never a fun experience and Draco knew that his best bet was to allow his body to awaken slowly and to avoid any sudden movements. It didn't take very long for him to realize that while half of his body was on his bed, the other half was sprawled out over something else. A body. A very male body. Draco's head was pillowed on this male body's chest and when he cracked open one eye, he saw an expanse of freckled skin. Slamming his eye closed again, Draco tried to calm down. He was used to morning afters, after all. But never like this. Never… waking up with someone. And the fact of the matter was that this was completely out of the ordinary and that Draco had spent the night with a Weasley and his head was really beginning to hurt.
Ron wasn't good with morning-afters, either. He'd felt the shift that meant the blonde was awake and was currently debating whether the man sprawled naked across him should now be considered 'Draco' or if he should remain 'Malfoy'. After a moment he decided it didn't matter. He didn't need a name to ask for something to make this hangover go away. He attempted to swallow away the dryness in his mouth before asking, in a low and still somewhat scratchy voice, "Hangover remedy?" They could deal with this once Ron didn't want to die quite so much. Maybe.
Luckily for them both, Draco kept a sobering draught near at hand. Severus sent them fairly often, which was about the extent of their communication. Draco usually wasn't nearly so grateful to have one readily available, but he couldn't think properly with his head pounding so viciously. With a soft moan he nodded and sat up, leaning over Ron's body and pulling open the drawer of the table next the bed. He felt around until his fingers slid over a familiar vial. He pulled it out, vaguely triumphant, uncorked it and took a sip before passing it to Ron.
With his head cleared, Draco was able to consider the situation before him. He was in bed, naked with Ron Weasley. They had had sex. Incredible sex. Sex that was so far above Draco's average, he was still confused by it. And then they'd slept together. All night. Draco had woken up in a Weasley's arms. He returned Ron's, Weasley's… he managed a tremulous smile of his own but there was a thick tension in the air between them. Draco raised an eyebrow and raked a hand through his hair. "Um… good morning."
Afterglow and sharing a bed and morning-afters were nothing new to Ron, really. Though this particular morning-after was easily the most awkward he'd ever experienced. There was tension; mostly both of them knowing how strange and wrong this was, but for Ron, at least, there was a degree of lingering sexual tension. If he'd had sex that good with nearly anyone else and they'd woken up together Ron would make sure they were doing something far more enjoyable than sitting awkwardly on the bed pretending not to look at each other. But it hadn't been with anyone else, it'd been with Draco. So Ron moistened his lips and softly replied "'Mornin’."
What now? Draco thought frantically. He had no experience with this at all. He felt rather lost and on top of it all, he was remembering the night before rather vividly and he was still attracted to the man in his bed enough so that he was watching when Ron wet his lips and his stomach fluttered at the sight. This was so not good. So very, very not good. "Sleep okay?" Draco asked slowly, feeling horrifyingly awkward. Sleep okay? he thought in disgust. What kind of a question was that? Either kiss him or kick him out or something. Just stop talking.
That really shouldn't make him blush, but somehow it did. "Yeah. Well. ...you?" He looked up from the presumably fascinating sheets towards Draco and the two made eye contact. After a moment of feeling distinctly and, he thought, rather nicely trapped in it, Ron managed to quickly tear his gaze away. Oh, this was terrible. "I should, um..." he gave a quiet, short, nervous laugh, "go..."
Ron's eyes were really the most enticing shade of blue. Draco had just decided this when the other man looked away and said he had to go. Despite being new to this, Draco knew an excuse when he heard one and he winced a bit. Was Ron... was Weasley that eager to get away from him? The thought was a bit irrational, of course. This shouldn't have happened and Draco wanted him gone as well but still, it hurt. Maybe Draco was just being ridiculous, feeling that way, but he couldn't help it. And he really didn't like it. "Oh. Alright," he said. "I'll, um... did you want… okay." Fuck! Draco hadn't sounded this stupid since… well, he'd probably never sounded this stupid and he flushed a bit in embarrassment.
Ron couldn't stop himself from looking back over at Draco. "What?" What are you doing, Weasley? Get out now! But he wanted to know what the blonde had started to say. It would be nothing, of course, but still... One corner of his mouth lifted slightly in an almost-smile. He'd never seen Draco blush before, he was sure of it. Flush from anger or... well... flush, yes. But blush? It was cute. Adorable, really. Despite the circumstances. Ron wasn't making any excuses to leave. Or, at least, he didn't think so. He hadn't said he needed to be anywhere, just that he should go. And he should. Draco must realize it, too.
Draco blinked at Ro- Weasley and fought the urge to answer his 'what' with a 'what' of his own. Instead he tugged fitfully on a lock of hair and swallowed and then shrugged and despite all of the delaying, he knew that what he would say would come out sounding ridiculous and Draco wondered when he'd become socially retarded. "Well, I have to make breakfast for Melisande and the brats if…" What? If he wanted to stay? That be a horrible idea. How much more domestic could it get than that? And Draco didn't want domestic, didn't think he could deal with it… was frightened by how much he craved it. "And if you have to go then I'd better get up as well," he finished lamely.
"...right." Ron was confused and vaguely disappointed. He didn't know what he'd been expecting, but it wasn't that. Well, no, he did know what he'd been expecting when Draco'd trailed off, and had been seriously debating saying yes despite what a truly terrible idea it'd be, but apparently he'd been wrong. He bit his lip before forcing a small smile. "I should go." It was a very matter of fact statement. He didn't need to go, and he somehow didn't want to go, but he should. He pushed himself up and moved to the edge of the bed, fighting the irrational urge to ask Draco not to look as he got dressed. It was rather too late for that.
A sense of disappointment welled in Draco and he didn't understand it. He didn't want Weasley to stay no matter how good the sex had been or how well they got along when drunk. It was too much, really, and Draco liked things easy. He watched Ron move away, traced the muscles that shifted in his back, fought the urge to lean forward and run his tongue along the wings of his shoulder blades. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fucking fuck! Draco tore his gaze away and moved off of the bed as well, rolling in the opposite direction that the other man had. He stood and felt disoriented. Something just felt wrong about this whole thing and that couldn't be normal for a one-off. Could it?
Ron released a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding when he felt Draco move to the other edge of the bed. He stood and went to pull on his pants and jeans, turning to look for his abandoned wand while pulling on his socks and shoes. He finally spotted it just barely sticking out from under the bed and studiously refused to look at Draco. He crouched down to get his wand, straightening and putting it back in its pocket before clearing his throat. "Ummm... my - our shirts are in the sitting room, right? Do you think your... family will be there?" He'd no desire at all for anyone he'd never met before to see him shirtless, let alone one of the French lesbians or children. The situation was bad enough without adding that to it.
While Ron... Weasley... the redhead on the other side of the bed got dressed; Draco found a pair of silk pajama bottoms and slid them on. He turned around just in time to see Ron picking up his wand and he straightened and Draco had almost forgotten where this had all started. "I doubt it," he said slowly. Melisande and the kids were probably sleeping. He hoped. He had no desire to explain to any of the kids why there were two half-naked men in the house. Melisande would probably just get pissed off at him, which he might be able to handle alright. Making his way out of the room, Draco held the door for Ron and then followed him to the sitting room. He'd just entered the room when he heard a yell of, "Draco!" and looked over his shoulder just in time to see a small figure launch toward him. It was the act of quick reflexes that allowed Draco to catch Dom midair and hoist the boy onto his hip. He looked nervously over at Ron and then tipped his head forward, sighing into Dom's curly hair. This morning could not get any more awkward, could it?
Ron lead the way to the sitting room. None of it seemed right. He'd had one night stands before, Hell, he'd woken up with one night stands before, they hadn't felt like this and he didn't know what to make of it. He'd just spotted his shirt on the floor when a child lauched himself towards Draco. Ron was stunned for a moment but then crossed the room quickly, pulling on his shirt as fast as he could and, quite possibly, inside out. He just needed to leave. And just as he was about to make his way to the door and get out he heard someone enter the room as a female voice, with a French accent, no less, called out "Have you seen the front page, Draco? You're on it... oh, dear..." Oh fuck me.
Draco looked up sharply at Melisande, who was staring over his shoulder at Ron, who Dom was looking at suspiciously. "Tell me you didn't," she moaned in French. Draco opened his mouth to reply but Dom tugged on his hair to get his attention. "Who is that?" he asked into Draco's ear. Draco glanced over his shoulder at Ron who looked disheveled and trapped and shrugged. "A friend," he answered. Melisande snorted, stalked over and thrust the paper at him. "Was your friend just leaving?" she asked. Draco nodded slowly and she huffed out a sigh. "Forgive his manners," she told Ron. "He was raised by pigs. Do you want some breakfast? Or an alcoholic drink, perhaps?"
Ron was pretty sure he wouldn't have needed any grasp of the French language to know what this conversation was about, but he'd picked up enough from Fleur to recognize "didn't" "friend" and "leaving". This was going from bad to worse so quickly it was barely registering. Ron found himself accepting breakfast almost without realizing it. He justified it to himself by claiming it was because he wanted to see the paper. For some reason it made him nervous. Why would Draco be on the front page?
Melisande smiled warmly at Ron and then led them all to the kitchen. The door connecting it to a small, informal dining room was open. The twins and Thierry were all at the table, arguing over something. Draco expected Dom to squirm out of his hold and join them, but he was too busy staring at Ron and so Draco shifted his hold on the boy and held the paper up in front of him. What he saw made him curse so vehemently that Dom slapped a hand over Draco's mouth and giggled. Draco looked at the boy and tried, half-heartedly, to capture one of his tiny fingers in his mouth. Dom pulled his hand away with a giggle and went back to staring at Ron, giving Draco room to stare at the front page. He had, indeed, made the cover. As had Ron. There was a picture of them on the front, laughing and joking with one another in the bar, looking a bit too intently at each other and that, combined with the headline (Malfoy Scion and Auror Weasley - Friends or Something More?), was enough to tip Draco off as to what the article was about. Wordlessly, he handed the paper over to Ron and watched him, waiting to see his reaction.
Ron's mouth dropped open before he brought and hand up to cover his mouth and started laughing. It was a near silent laugh and one having nothing to do with mirth, sounding rather more desperate than anything. Goddamnit. He'd been afraid of this, somehow. And when had someone taken their picture without either of them noticing? He'd half thought it might be something like this when Draco'd handed him the paper, but he'd expected a stock photo and, well, it all seemed so much more damning, somehow, with that picture. He skimmed through the article. It was the usual Skeeter drivel, only this time it was most definitely based in fact. And she had proof of that. He dropped his hand and met Draco's eyes, silently mouthing "fuck".
Draco nodded at Ron and sighed, setting Dom down and ushering him into the dining room. With a quick wave of her wand, Melisande cast a silencing charm and then she looked at Draco with a frown and said, quite gravely, "You're fucked. Both of you." Draco cocked his head in her direction. "No shit," he retorted dryly. He raked a hand through his hair and watched as Melisande bustled about the kitchen. She was scrambling eggs, toasting bread, frying bacon, and making pancakes all at the same time. Not her usual, flamboyant breakfast but then she looked tired and Draco had promised to do this for her. She didn't seem to mind though. Cooking always helped calm her and Amie down. "So?" she said coaxingly, propping her hands on her hips and looking from Ron to Draco. "What happened?"
There was nothing they could do. It shouldn't feel as earth-shattering as it did, really. Ron idly wondered how soon his Mum would get a Howler to him. He shrugged at Melisande. "We ran into each other last night, went to get a drink..." He faltered. It was embarrassing, he didn't even know this woman. And, more importantly, he didn't want to think about what had happened last night at all. Oh, fuck. He'd have to go file paperwork later today. He'd never hear the end of this.
Draco glanced over at Ron sympathetically and Melisande caught the gaze. "You've never brought one to your home before," she said knowingly. "Or spent the night with one." Draco glowered at her. "Stop," he told her. "It didn't mean anything. It just . . . happened." Melisande snorted. "Help me with the plates," she ordered in English, waving her wand to dispel the silencing charm and gesturing toward the dining room. "Why don't you sit down?" she said to Ron. "I promise nothing's poisoned and I'm not hiding a camera in my skirt. You're safe here." Draco nodded at Ron and levitated a stack of plates into the dining room. "Amie is expecting all of us today," Melisande reminded him, as she got all of the food into serving dishes and levitated those into the dining room as well. Draco nodded. Chances were she'd seen the paper and he didn't want to have to deal with her reaction to it.
Ron distinctly didn't like being talked about like he wasn't there. He most certainly wasn't about to let them know he understood any of what they were saying, though. He'd never been more frustrated that he didn't know more French... "never brought" "home" "or spent the night" "stop" Ron's eyebrows raised briefly and he tried to cover his reaction with a smile to Melisande once she turned to speak to him. Well, that was certainly enough to get the jist of what they were talking about, this time. No. No, he must have heard wrong. He wasn't good with French and there was just no way...
Melisande was still looking shrewdly at Draco and he honestly didn't want to talk about it. He didn't understand it himself, and this thing with Skeeter and the paper... well that was something he'd rather deal with later. So, changing the subject, he raised his eyebrows. "How's the baby?" he asked as they walked into the dining room. "Never stops crying," Thierry answered for his mum, having caught the question. "And she's ugly," Rachelle added. Marie nodded emphatically. "Most babies are ugly," Draco said, ignoring the dirty look Melisande shot him. He shrugged. "Well, they are. She's perfect, of course, and she'll be dead gorgeous in time. Just… not right now." The twins giggled and Dom joined in, though he had no idea what they were talking about. "Pick a seat," Draco said to Ron, nodding at the dining room table. "Doesn't matter where."
Ron wasn't used to being around big families that weren't his own. It was a strange feeling, all this familial banter surrounding him but not quite including him. He took a seat just slightly to the side. He was actually rather beginning to regret staying but part of him had wanted to and he'd been so flustered when he'd been asked that he hadn't even thought of saying 'no'. Politeness auto-pilot or some such thing. So now he was sitting there with a woman and four children he'd only just met, and that under rather uncomfortable circumstances, and a shirtless Draco, which was rather distracting. And he was confused. He couldn't seem to stop thinking about what little he'd caught of the exchange Draco had had with Melisande. If he'd understood correctly then it made things a whole lot more complicated. Not what he needed. And he was currently still refusing to accept the fact that there was nothing he could do about that damn article. All said this was hardly the ideal situation for a nice breakfast.
Unbeknownst to either man, they were thinking similar thoughts. At least so far as the awkwardness of the situation was concerned. Thierry kept looking suspiciously from Draco to Ron and back again. The boy was only eight, but he was smart for his age, understood the concepts of homosexuality in more than just the abstract terms of someone with two mummies. Draco was fairly certain that the boy would put at least some of the clues together, but at least he wasn't saying anything. The twins, however, looked fit to bursting with their mouths full of food and their eyes riveted on the stranger at the table. Draco made sure to introduce Ron, of course, before they began to eat, but that didn't sate anyone's curiosity. Well, Dom didn't seem to mind so much, or care much either way. Draco was fairly sure the young boy didn't like Ron, but then, Dom didn't like many people at all. That was just his way. All in all, Draco's stress levels were way too high and he wished he was still in bed. "So," Melisande said conversationally, turning to Ron. "You're an Auror, then?"
Ron's eyes snapped up from the apparently fascinating tablecloth to Melisande. He forced a small smile. "Yeah. Have been for..." he paused, thinking, " five or six years, now." He didn't really know what else to say. The reason she knew what he did hit him about halfway through his short answer. Malfoy Scion and Auror Weasley... Knowing that made talking about his job awkward. He didn't normally know what to say about it, it was even worse now. "It's nice. ...rewarding." He mentally winced at his choice of words. Rewarding?
Rewarding? Draco assumed if the job was rewarding, Ron might look a bit happier about it. Sure now wasn't the best time to be weighing such things, but Draco couldn't recall Ron looking too terribly pleased about it before, either. Melisande just nodded and then started rambling about how nice it is to do work that you love every day before describing, in detail, the plans she and Amie had to open up a restaurant as soon as things had settled down and they would be comfortable leaving the baby for long periods at a time. "Of course, you don't know about the baby!" Melisande exclaimed, forgetting everything in the world but her fierce pride and pulling out a photo taken the day the baby was born. "She's only a few days old," Melisande said, passing the photo to Ron. "But I can already tell she's going to be full of energy."
Ron was terribly good at playing dumb. It was a useful skill in the Ministry, really, and it came in handy right now. He hadn't told Melisande where or when he'd run into Draco yesterday. It hadn't really been a fully intentional choice, but he hadn't. And something told him that, were he the father of a newborn, he wouldn't want the mother's partner to know that he had, essentially, pulled while leaving the hospital after visiting said newborn and mother. So Ron feigned politely interested surprise at the mention of a baby, took the picture and said she looked beautiful, and asked her name.
"Rosette," Melisande said happily. She took the picture back after a moment, shot Draco a long look and the blonde frowned at her before turning to Ron. "You don't have to stay, you know," he said in a low voice. "I know you… wanted to get out of here." He figured he could at least offer the other man an out since at least one of them deserved the chance to get out of this bloody mess. Not that there would be any escaping it. Ever. But it would probably be best for everyone involved if Ron just… well, if they weren't together right now.
Ron smiled as he handed Melisande back the picture. He caught the look she gave Draco, though he'd no idea what it meant. He was tired of being confused and sure he'd missed something. He turned to face Draco at the other man's soft words. "I d-" Fortunately his brain caught up with him just in time. Draco wanted him gone. And the blonde was right, he did want to go. Didn't he? "Yeah. I should head out." He grinned at Melisande. "Paperwork." He explained before standing and briefly shaking her hand. "It was nice to meet you, Melisande. Thank you for breakfast." He gave the table in general a small smile before turning and quickly making his way out of the house.
Draco watched him go and then slouched in his chair with a loud sigh. "You're an idiot, you know?" Melisande said to him. The kids were staring curiously and Draco rubbed a hand over his eyes. "I don't want to talk about it," he said. The woman's lips pinched in and she shook her hair over her shoulders. "You should. You brought him here, Draco. To your home. He ate fucking breakfast with us." "Only partly," Draco said, while the kids looked at Melisande in shock. She ignored them and Draco decided she must have been pissed off if she'd curse like that in front of her children and not bat an eyelash. "You know that I love you," she said, glaring at him. "But sometimes... sometimes you make me unbelievably angry. Now finish your food, get dressed, and be prepared to explain this situation to Amie and me at the hospital."
Ron apparated into his living room with a 'crack'. He chose to completely ignore the smoking Howler that was awaiting him, doubtlessly from his mother, and instead to cast an extra silencing spell on the room as he went to the bathroom for a shower, shedding his clothes along the way. Somehow being alone made it even worse. He had absolutely no distractions, now. It was just him and the knowledge of what had happened. After getting out of the shower he scribbled and sent off a few notes: one to his Mum telling her he'd explain later, one to his office telling them he wouldn't be in today (And damn how it would look. They'd all think what they wanted, anyway, and he couldn't imagine facing them today.) and one each to Harry and Hermione, begging for take away and comfort later. That finished he made his way to his bedroom, towel dried his hair, pulled on pyjamas, and climbed into his bed.
