HP Fic: Stuck in the Cupboard With You (Harry/Draco)

[khasael]

Title: Stuck in the Cupboard With You
Rating: PG
Word Count: ~4,000
Beta: groolover
Summary: Harry and Draco lose a bet and have to spend the night locked in a cupboard full of Auror robes. (Thanks to twilight_tones for the prompt!)

Author's Notes: Once again, this fic turned out twice as long as anticipated. Big shock to no one, right? Written for leo_draconis's H/D Shared Bed Fest



As the door closed in his face, Harry glared at his best friend. It was, however, nothing compared to the look his partner was throwing Ron. Ron only smiled. "Have a good night, you two. And maybe next time you'll try a little harder." Harry heard laughing as the door's lock turned over.

"This is all your fault," Draco said sourly, glaring at Harry in the minuscule amount of light that lit the cupboard. "I thought we'd agreed on this. It wasn't that difficult a bet, was it?"

"Apparently harder than we thought," Harry muttered. It hadn't seemed that bad, at first. He didn't even remember whose idea it had been. He remembered discussing something - the details of their last case, as they finalised their case report - with Draco last night, and then suddenly Draco had pledged that they could manage to refrain from arguing during an assignment. His insistence had turned into a bet with ridiculous stakes.

"It really should be Weasley and DeMille in here," Draco muttered. "We almost had this. But you can't control your damn temper -"

"- And you can't control your need to be right about everything!" Harry cut in. He glared back at Draco, whom he could see solely because his partner was so bloody pale.

"...It's going to be a very long night, isn't it?" Draco finally said, leaning against the locked door.

Well, he was right about that. All a bit sleep-deprived, the four of them (Harry, Draco, Ron, and Ron's partner) had agreed that the losers of the bet would spend the night locked in the cupboard full of Aurors' robes. In hindsight, there were loads of things that would have made more sense - doing paperwork for the other team, having to buy them a full dinner (never a light punishment, if Ron was involved), or any number of other things. Harry couldn't even remember who had come up with this idea, let alone why the other three had agreed.

"Might as well make ourselves comfortable. We're not getting out of here until they both show up in the morning," Harry sighed. "And DeMille's rarely on time." He shoved aside some robes and tried to see if there was anywhere he could actually sit that was far enough away that he could ignore his partner for a while. He knew he was in for a night of indignant huffing, and probably some kicking.

"Comfortable? In here? Are you kidding me?" Draco sighed, sounding very put upon. He was still leaning forwards, with his forehead pressed against the door. It muffled his voice. Harry wished it muffled it a little more.

The tiny sliver of light that had been shining underneath the door disappeared suddenly, and the two of them found themselves in total darkness.

"Well, that's just wonderful," Draco snapped. "Didn't even leave the light on for us. Now it's just Katarina at the reception desk, the two unlucky bastards who drew night duty napping at their desks, and us in the back room, locked in the cupboard."

Harry clenched his jaw. His partner, who, admittedly, was good at his job, was going to drive him to an act of manslaughter - or at least, an act of aggravated hexing - before the night was over. "And you wonder why we didn't get through that assignment without arguing," he muttered. "Had nothing to do with your attitude."

Though he couldn't see him, Harry was sure Draco glared at him. "Really, I don't know why you couldn't have tried a little harder. We were so close, you know."

"But I did try!" Harry nearly shouted. Why wouldn't Draco believe him? Harry had even taken drastic measures to ensure he would be sleeping in his own bed this evening, but they'd still failed. "Besides, it takes two to argue."

Draco didn't have a rebuttal for that. After several long moments of silence, Harry heard the rustling of robes. "I'm going to sit here, up against this wall, and sleep. The sooner we sleep, the sooner we get out of here."

"Fine." Harry pulled a few robes down off the hangers and situated them so they provided a cushion of sorts. He found that he could cover himself decently if he spread one out and used it as a blanket. It wasn't exactly as nice as his bed, but he'd slept in worse places.

He had managed to doze off at some point, only to be woken by a lot of movement very nearby. He straightened up and groaned. He'd somehow managed to put a severe crick in his neck. "Fuck, that hurts," he muttered, rubbing at it gently.

The noise on his right continued, and no matter how hard he squinted, Harry couldn't make out any details. "Draco...what the hell are you doing over there?"

His partner finally spoke, sounding quite amused. "You wouldn't believe some of the things I've found in these pockets."

Harry sat up a little straighter. "You're going through the pockets?"

"Well, why not? These are spare robes. They're not any one person's property. They belong to the department. As much ours as anyone else's, aren't they?"

Well, Draco had a point there. And at least he didn't seem so angry any more. "What have you found?"

"Cigarettes. Lots of paper. Some chocolate. Pot of lip balm. And three small plastic bottles of Muggle alcohol."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Jarvis."

"That was my guess, too, but I think this robe's much too short for him. More... Bachmann's size."

"Wow. That's surprising."

"Indeed. I suppose you never really know some people, do you, Potter?"

Harry sighed. If Draco was back to calling him 'Potter', then he was still angry. "Oh? You think there're things I don't know about you?"

"I'd guarantee it," Draco said with a little huff. "In fact, I'd say you know very little about me."

"Wrong on that one, Draco." Really. They'd been partners just over a year now. Harry had seen him in good moments and bad ones. He'd seen him bored, and irritated, and even triumphant. He knew a lot more than Draco thought.

"Oh? Prove it."

"I don't have to do that."

"Well, fine, if you don't think you can -"

"You like your tea with a splash of milk and one sugar," Harry said, rising to the challenge like he always seemed to. Damn it, Draco could really get him worked up. "But never artificial sweetener. Your favourite scent is rain on pavement, followed by violets and lilies. You're prone to sore throats when you haven't slept enough, and your right knee is weaker than your left ever since you landed on it wrong during training. You're the fastest person in the department with a stunning spell, and you hate it when people make fun of Celestina Warbeck, because she used to be your mother's favourite singer, even if she would never admit it to anyone but you and your father." Harry paused, knowing he had dozens more examples, but he rather thought that should be enough. "Well?"

After a moment, Draco spoke. "What type of person do I look for when I date?"

Well, fuck. "You haven't dated since we've started working together. How should I know?" Didn't the things he did know count for anything?

"Just because I haven't dated doesn't mean there weren't things you could have noticed," Draco told him shortly. "Especially as you seem to be so good at noticing other things. And how the hell do you know that about my mother and her preference for Celestina Warbeck?"

Harry resisted the urge to bang his head against the wall. "You mentioned it once."

"Like hell I did."

"In your sleep! That's another thing, Draco: you talk in your sleep."

Draco did not move. He didn't speak. Harry wasn't even sure he was still breathing, to be honest. "Draco?"

"What else have you heard me say?"

"What? I don't know. Nothing." He thought hard about it. "Well, once something about needing to find someone who was smuggling unicorns, but that made even less sense than the thing about your mother."

"And that's all?"

"Yeah."

Draco shifted, his shoes scraping against the floor. "Oh. Good."

Harry wondered what exactly his partner was afraid he might have said. "So that's it? I list all of those things, and that's all you have for me?"

"Yes."

There was more rustling, and then the sound of something small snapping. Harry tilted his head. "What was that noise?"

"Me opening one of these bottles. I need a drink."

The light sound of liquid glugging out of a small container was loud in the cupboard, and Harry could even hear Draco swallowing it. After a moment, he said the only thing that occurred to him: "Let me have one."

"Why should I? I found them. Besides, they're my consolation for having to be cooped up in here with you all night. You know, if you had just tried harder -"

"I told you already, I did!" Harry nearly shouted. "I even took a Calming Draught -"

Fuck. He had meant to keep that a secret.

"You used potions to try to keep from arguing with me?" Draco's voice had an odd tone to it, one that Harry couldn't read.

"Well, I had to try something. You have to admit, we push each other's buttons quite a bit."

"I'm not arguing that. You're damn near insufferable sometimes, Potter."

"Look who's talking. What, are you upset I used potions to try to win the bet?"

"No. Actually, I was just thinking..." Draco sighed and took another swallow from the bottle. The empty container landed on Harry's thigh. "I used something too."

Harry blinked, a useless gesture in their current situation. Ron had taken their wands when he'd locked them in, in an effort to keep them there until morning. "You did?"

"Yes. I wanted to win, Potter." He sighed. "But if you were taking something, and so was I..."

Harry made the connection before Draco could even say it. "There's no reason we should have been unable to win the bet. And you know, we were doing really well..."

"Until Weasley brought us that coffee." Draco jerked, kicking Harry in the hip. "That bastard."

With something like horror, Harry realised his partner was right. He and Draco had been having a very pleasant conversation about Quidditch at that point, and things had been going exceptionally well. And then Ron had come over with cups of coffee, handing them out amongst the four of them, shooing away DeMille's hand when he had reached for the one Draco ended up with. "I thought it tasted different, but I thought that was just cinnamon."

Draco snorted. "It was cinnamon. But that's one of the ingredients in your standard agitation potion."

Harry gritted his teeth. "Fucking hell. Ron's been spending entirely too much time with that Slytherin partner of his."

"Hello?" Draco said with a not-so-gentle nudge. "I'm right here, Potter. What the hell would you call me?"

"Oh. Right." He leaned his head back against the wall. "Ron is going to pay for that in the morning. I'm going to hex him so hard he won't know what hit him. And then I'm going to Obliviate him so he doesn't even know he doesn't know what hit him."

Draco responded by fumbling for Harry's hand and shoving one of the little bottles into it. "I'll help you. And here."

Downing the bottle in one go, Harry thought about the best way to go about making Ron pay. Two (or four, really, he supposed) could play at that game.

There was silence for a long time. Finally, Draco dropped another bottle into his lap. Harry was about to thank him when he heard the sound of another seal cracking. "I thought you said there were only three of those."

"So I lied. There are more. But you can only have two."

Harry sighed. "Fine. Thanks, I guess." He took occasional nips out of the bottle. Maybe it would help him sleep, at the very least. "I don't suppose it's possible to actually lie down in here?"

"It's not physically impossible," Draco replied after a slight pause. "I'm certain we could gather enough of these robes and fashion a bed of sorts. It'll just be close quarters until morning."

"I don't even care," Harry sighed, his face feeling a little warm. Well, at least the alcohol was doing something. "I just don't think I can sleep up against this wall again. I already put a crick in my neck."

"You're not going to complain all night, are you?" Draco asked with a sigh. "Because, I have to warn you, I've never attempted a wandless Silencio, but I'm not above trying one this evening."

"Noted. Now, help me organise these things."

After approximately three minutes of pulling robes down and shoving things around, the floor seemed suitably covered, if a bit uneven. "Merlin, Harry, didn't anyone ever teach you to make a proper bed?"

Harry snorted, relieved Draco had at least resumed using his first name. "Me? I've made beds for myself, my cousin, and my aunt and uncle, and trust me, quality counted. When's the last time you had to do menial labour like bed-making?"

"This morning," Draco told him, tugging on the robe underneath Harry's hand. Harry slipped and collided into Draco, smashing his face into what might have been Draco's shoulder.

"Ow, fuck, Draco. Watch it, would you?"

"Well, if you would just cooperate," he grumbled. "Here. That should work. We don't have proper pillows or blankets, but I think this could work. Just... don't hog all the robes," he said warningly.

"Why, what are you going to do about it if I do?" Harry asked, flopping down onto the pile. "Your wandless skills need work."

"Shut it, Potter, or I'll improve those skills on you." The robe underneath Harry's head was yanked away. "And settle the fuck down. I'd actually like some sleep this evening. I will not give Weasley and DeMille the satisfaction of thinking they've ruined my evening."

"Fine," Harry sighed. He could do this. It wasn't all that uncomfortable. As long as Draco didn't mutter too much in his sleep, Harry thought he could snag a few hours of decent rest. He was just about asleep when he heard the crack of another seal. "Give it to me," he sighed, fumbling for the bottle he knew Draco was holding.

"Sod off, Harry. It's mine. You're lucky I gave you two."

"Hey, if you're going to cop a decent buzz before going to sleep, it's only fair to share with your partner. We're in this together."

"Forget it. I found them. If you want it, you'll have to pry it from my hands."

"Right, you asked for it," Harry said, wondering if he would ever let something Draco said that sounded even remotely like a challenge go. He rolled over and groped for the bottle. "Give it, you prat."

"Make me, you uncoordinated git," Draco said with a snort, rolling away. Harry grabbed him by the robes and yanked. "Hey, let go!"

"No way, Draco. You can end this by sharing."

"Not bloody likely."

They struggled on the ground together for a few moments, until Harry finally gained the upper hand. He closed his hand over the bottle, still clutched in Draco's hand. "Got it!" He suddenly realised he was essentially straddling his partner, pinning him to the floor. His arms held Draco's to the pile of robes. Underneath him, Draco was breathing hard. Harry saw only the palest flash of something that might have been Draco's hair in the dark room, but he might also have been imagining it. He did note, in a distant sort of manner, that neither of them was exactly fighting to get away.

"Plan on staying in that position all night?" Draco asked after several awkward moments of silence.

Harry thought about it. "Are you going to let go of that bottle?"

"I hadn't planned on it. Then again, I hadn't planned on you lying on top of me either. Merlin, Harry, you get any closer, we might as well... Never mind."

Harry didn't respond right away. He still wasn't getting the idea that Draco was all that upset about their predicament. Was he that drunk? Or just that indifferent? He thought back a moment to something Draco had said earlier in the evening - something about how he should have noticed Draco's preference in dating partners. A series of connections formed in his overwhelmed brain.

"Harry? Having a fit or something?"

"No," Harry said slowly. "I was just... Sorry. Fine. You can have the bottle."

"Oh, look at you give up so easily," Draco scoffed. "Little bit of awkwardness, and you run away. Good to know, I suppose. Maybe I can win more arguments this way."

"I'm not running away," Harry muttered, knowing full well he was.

"If you say so." The ridiculous tone of Draco's voice bore into his head, and Harry felt something within him snap.

Before he knew what he was doing, Harry had squeezed Draco's wrists just a little more tightly. The little part of his brain that was his impulse control centre kicked in, if belatedly, and screamed at him to stop. He had been dangerously close to smashing his mouth into Draco's and asking if that seemed like running away. Instead, he took a deep breath. "I'm not running away," he repeated.

"Then what in Merlin's name are you doing?" Draco asked, amused. Harry could smell the alcohol on his breath. "Planning on sitting on me until my legs go numb?" He squirmed underneath Harry, which was really rather unfortunate, as it sort of made Harry want to lean down and try smashing his mouth over Draco's after all . "About half there, I'd say."

"Just shut it, Draco," Harry muttered, trying to figure out how best to extricate himself and realising that the longer he failed to do so, the more awkward this became.

"Make me."

The second challenge overrode Harry's sensibility. He dropped himself down further and tried to put his mouth on his partner's. The dark threw off his aim, however, and he ended up smashing their noses together instead.

"Ow, fuck," Draco grunted. "What the hell, Harry? You didn't have to try to break my nose. Merlin, if you want me to shut it that badly, just say so."

"Sorry! That wasn't exactly what I'd planned." He touched gingerly at the spot under his nose. It was wet, and he would bet that was blood. Damn it.

"Then what exactly were…? Oh," Draco said softly. "Oh."

Embarrassed to the point of thinking now would be a good time to try a wandless Obliviation, Harry scrambled off his partner and tried to situate himself in the farthest corner of the cupboard.

"Where exactly do you think you're going?" Draco asked. "You know damn well we can't Apparate out of this department from anywhere other than the corner by Auror McHenry's office. And this is a small cupboard. Anywhere you go, I can still touch you."

For a moment, Harry's brain took a very specific definition of 'touch', and he felt his face go hot. "Just leave me alone. I'm sorry I tried to wrestle that bottle away from you. Drink up."

There was no noise for a moment, but then Harry could hear thudding that sounded suspiciously like someone crawling over on their knees. "I'm not, you know."

Harry jumped, not realising Draco was quite that close. His voice was right in his ear, and Harry had the feeling that if he turned his head just so, he might be able to feel his partner's breath on his ear. "Not what?" he asked, trying to meld into the wall.

"Not sorry you wrestled me for that bottle. Furthermore," he said, shifting again and kneeling on Harry's robes, eliminating any hope Harry had of moving away, "I don't think you are either. Not really, anyway."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Harry muttered, wishing he could go back three minutes and let his partner keep the damned alcohol. He had never even considered Draco in a sexual manner before. So why was he doing so now?

"You do, though," Draco said softly, in a voice he'd never used around Harry before. "Scared, Potter?"

Well, yes, to be perfectly honest, he was. More confused than scared, but definitely a bit of both. "Of course not."

"Then prove it," Draco said, his voice still soft, but now taunting. "Prove you're not scared."

Harry was well aware he was being led down a particular path, egged on in the way Draco was always so good at. He considered meeting the challenge, just going for it and finding Draco's face in front of him in the dark, taking hold of his shoulders and letting his hands roam wherever Draco would let them go, but he stopped. "Why should I?"

"Because you always do," Draco murmured. "You always respond to the challenge. Why in Merlin's name do you think I push and nag at you so often? Because you're so easy to lead sometimes. Harry. I do it because I like getting a reaction out of you. I like that you can't ignore me - you've never ignored me."

Well, he was right about that. "You harass me because you like getting a reaction out of me?"

"Why else would I do it?"

"Because you don't like me? You like making my life difficult?" It was what Harry had always expected. They worked well together, when one of them wasn't threatening to hex the other for not listening to their viewpoint. But never had Harry considered this a possibility as to the reason why they always bickered.

"I actually like you rather a lot," Draco whispered, and then there was a hand placed lightly on Harry's chest, another finding the back of his head, and Draco placed a light kiss on the corner of Harry's mouth. "No matter that you seem perfectly oblivious to any advances I've ever made."

"I wouldn't say I'm oblivious to this one," Harry said shakily. Facts spun through his head. His partner fancied him. Draco didn't dislike him after all. Draco had just, in actual fact, kissed him, and Harry hadn't minded it. They were…they were locked in a cupboard together. For possibly several more hours. This could go one of two ways without an Obliviation spell: really well, or really awkwardly. Harry chose to hope for the first. "This one seems pretty clear, actually." He lifted his face up to where Draco's seemed to be and tugged lightly on the robes hanging in front of him. "But you should make it clearer."

Draco sighed and leaned forwards, pressing their foreheads together as he crawled closer. Harry could feel Draco kneeling between his thighs. "Merlin, you can be dense."

Before he could say another word, Harry kissed him back, very hesitantly. He felt Draco's lips part and, cautiously, he slid his tongue between them. Draco responded with gentle enthusiasm, and it was several moments before Harry realised he was leaning back against the wall, Draco pressed up against him. He gave Draco a slight shove, slid forward, then pulled his partner down atop him on the pile of robes. "So I have my moments," he said, finding a place in Draco's robes where he could slide his hand inside. "At least I eventually learn my lesson."

Draco fumbled for the buttons of his own robes, guiding Harry's hand down to rest on his hip. "I should hope so," he said with a shiver as Harry placed a kiss on his chest. "Let's see how well you've learned it. Prove it to me."

Harry smiled in the dark. This might be the best challenge yet.