#thoughtnott

There weren’t many things that Draco did out of spite. He was too tired to hold a grudge against anyone in particular. He’d spent too long holding a grudge against muggleborns because that was what his father had taught him. He didn’t have the time or quite frankly, the effort to put into a grudge. However, when Theo left him a note and disappeared, Draco mustered up enough to change the wards on their apartment. There was a good chance that Theo wouldn’t come back. He liked to run from his problems. Draco was the same. If Theo did come back, then Draco would have the satisfaction of keeping him out of their apartment. It was petty, but Draco never claimed to be perfect. He was far from it. 

Everything was quiet. There was nothing for months. Until one evening when the knocking on the door started. Draco waited for a long moment. He let whomever was on the other side of the door sweat it out before he finally opened the door to find Theo on the other side. Raising an eyebrow, Draco asked, “You lost?” 

Draco had taken to the habit of crashing on Theo’s couch a couple of months ago and he had yet to quit the habit. He abhorred the manor. He hated everything that happened inside of it. He hated that every time he stepped into the drawing room, he remembered Hermione Granger being tortured by his aunt. He hated sitting at the dining room table and recalling the meals he had to sit through with Voldemort at the head of the table. The splitting pain in his head as the Dark Lord tried to get inside his thoughts. If the bloody place burned to the ground, he wouldn’t have complained. Unfortunately, he wasn’t so lucky, so he had taken to Theo’s empty couch. 

When Theo hadn’t come home the first night, Draco laughed. It seemed his friend had finally told Daphne how he felt. It had been quite obvious for weeks. The second night, he’d rolled his eyes. The third, Draco scoffed because he found himself bored without the company. When a week passed with no sign of Theo, Draco took the bed. If Theo wasn’t going to make use of it, the least he could do was keep it warm. Plus the bloody couch was lumpy as hell. 

“What the fuck?” Draco grumbled when the room was filled with light. He opened an eye and was met with the stare of his best friend. “You weren’t using it. Can you blame me?” 

A big part of controlling his emotions and maintaining his occlumency was his self-control. Draco had practiced it, perfected it, and he continued to maintain it every single day. He knew that a slip up could mean showing the wrong person the wrong thing. During the time of the war, it meant showing Voldemort his fears or his innermost thoughts. Now - it just meant showing emotion in general or dealing with that trauma. Draco’s self-control was immaculate. Until it wasn’t. Until he was pissed. A bottle of firewhiskey in and he was drunk. The second one on the counter in front of him, he supposed he was looking for self-destruction. 

Sleeves rolled up his arms, he’d spent a good part of the evening staring at the dark mark on his forearm and taking a drink every time he remembered the way that Hermione had stared at the tattoo in horror. By this point, it was a faint memory, but still there. Draco leaned against the counter top in the kitchen (it being the one thing that was holding him up); his eyes rising lazily when he finally heard Theo. How long had he been standing there? Draco chuckled and held the bottle of firewhiskey to his lips to take a swig, before slurring, “Don’t even think about taking this fuckin’ bottle away from me.” 

There weren’t many people that Draco concerned himself with. There were even less that he truthfully cared about. Since his days at Hogwarts, his group of friends had dwindled to just a few people whom had stuck by his side. The one person who never seemed to stray no matter how much bullshit Draco threw at them was Theo. Draco had started crashing on his couch when he could no longer go back to the manor without having a panic attack. There were nights when he was so drunk that he couldn’t occlude. There were times when Draco could tell that he was on Theo’s last nerve and still - he managed to be patient. That was why after Theo had hid in his room for a week, Draco couldn’t continue to just let it go. He knew that he needed to check upon his friend. 

It took Draco quite a while to get past all of the locking charms that Theo had upon his bedroom, but it made him feel pretty damn good when he finally turned the doorknob to get into the room. There was a very good chance that Draco would get hexed for this, but it seemed like it was worth it. Making his presence known in the bedroom, Draco took to climbing into Theo’s bed and making quite the scene of rolling around in it. “Your bed is always so much more comfortable,” Draco muttered, before looking over towards Theo. “What the hell are you doing?” 

Draco didn’t make it a habit to hookup with the same person more than once. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d hooked up with the same person more than once. (That was a lie; he knew whom it was). It was rare when multiple hookups didn’t result in feelings of some sort and Draco knew that he couldn’t handle that. All he was looking for was something physical. A release. After the second night that he’d spent with Barnaby, he told himself that it was the last time. It lasted until they ran into each other at the same bar again and this time, Draco brought him back to his apartment. They hooked up again and spent the night together. 

The morning after, Draco let Barnaby out of the apartment, a satisfied smirk on his face as he closed the door behind him. Trudging across the floor to the kitchen, Draco decided to grab some coffee instead of just going back to bed. When he caught sight of Theo, he was taken aback slightly, but merely smirked as he poured himself a cup. “I didn’t know you were awake or that you left your room, mate. What are you doing up so early?” 

what do they hate being teased about? are they teased often?

13. do they like the room cold or hot when they sleep?

would they rather be alone or in a relationship?