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Draco stared at his boyfriend of five years as he told him again that he hadn’t been drinking. The smell of firewhiskey that enslaved his nostrils seemed to tell him otherwise, though. It shouldn’t have surprised him at this point, as it seemed like a nightly endeavor at this point. Three weeks. Three insufferable nights of sleeping alone, listening to Harry rant and ramble about things that really didn’t matter, and the smell. Oh Merlin, the smell. The mix of alcohol that clung to Harry and the nightly purging of his liver had the tidy apartment smelling especially terrible. Draco thanked Merlin every night that he was a wizard and knew cleaning spells.
“Love, it was just a couple of glasses, I promise. I’m barely buzzed,” Harry promised in a slur, stumbling his way through the doors. It was always just a couple. The raven-haired male didn’t seem to notice the evident frown on Draco’s face as he just sighed and walked to their room.
“Couch is already made.” That’s all the blonde would say, closing the door behind him. The first night Harry came home like this, he snuck his way into the bed. Ever since then, Draco made sure to lock the door and take Harry’s wand for the night. It was his punishment, he explained. Draco wouldn’t tolerate this in bed. That, and he refused to let Harry see him cry over something like this.
The last couple of weeks at work had been hard for Harry. He was in the middle of a difficult case and him and Ron seemed to hit a knot in the investigation. Usually Harry would just come home and rant, laying in Draco’s arms as the blonde ran a hand through his lover’s hair and calmed him down. That had always been enough for Harry. But lately Harry would tell Draco he had to work late, when in turn he was just going to a pub to get hammered. At first, Draco couldn’t have been angrier. He went as far as to kick him out to Ron’s for the night, but that only upset Draco more. He hated Harry like this, but he hated having him out of his eye even more.
He tried to talk to him about this before, but Harry refused. He’d grow angry and tell Draco that it wasn’t any concern of his and “it’s not like I’m doing anything wrong.” Draco hadn’t spoken to him properly since that day. That was a week ago.
Sometimes Draco wondered if he played a part in this. A week before it all started, the blonde made the mistake of bringing up the idea of marriage. He had been nervous to even mention it, but hell, they had been dating for five years. They loved each other. Neither of them could see themselves with anyone else. At least that’s what Draco thought.
They had been lying in bed, post-shag, tangled in limbs and stolen kisses. Harry had just discovered his first turning point in the investigation and Draco had a wonderfully smooth day at Hogwarts as the potions professor. They both thought they deserved a perfect date night and shag. Draco was so full of joy in that moment that the prospect of marriage seemed like a beautiful idea at the time.
He laid in bed with a toothy grin as Harry trailed soft kisses down his neck, and the words fell before he could even think. “I want to marry you,” he mumbled, almost inaudible. But Harry had obviously heard him because his kisses stopped and Draco could feel his body freeze. He lifted his head to look at his lover, something Draco couldn’t pinpoint sat in his emerald eyes.
“You do?” Harry asked almost hesitantly, and the fear began to slowly creep up Draco’s back. Slowly, he nodded his head, the hand in Harry’s hair stalling.
Draco took in a slow breath and blinked. “Of course I do,” he told him as casually as he could. Harry only blinked though, face still unreadable. Before Draco could say anything else, Harry just lowered his head and turned his face to the crook of Draco’s neck.
“We should sleep.”
That was the last Draco heard of the subject, and he feared too much to bring it up again. For days he questioned it though. Did Harry not want to marry him too? Did he not love him? That was ridiculous; Harry couldn’t get enough of him, but still, Harry’s reaction terrified Draco. Why wouldn’t he want to marry him?
When Drunk Harry started, though, the marriage-worries left Draco quickly and he focused on how the hell he was supposed to handle this. Sure, Harry has been drunk on occasion and Draco dealt with it fine. It’s not like he was aggressive, if anything he was even softer than usual. He’d crawl into bed with Draco, beg him to run a hand through his hair, or trace sloppy, drunk kisses down his neck until Draco laughingly pushes him away.
This time, though, Harry would avoid him. He hardly argued with sleeping on the couch, and when Draco did try to speak with him, Harry would just pass out. Or fake it, usually. It was becoming harder for the blonde to handle. Hell, it was distracting him during his classes, even. He was constantly terrified of hearing that Harry passed out somewhere, or was in the hospital from his investigation.
That’s why, this next morning, Draco had to look away from Harry’s confused, hungover face as he handed him a packed bag. “What is this?” Harry questioned, voice scratchy and groggy from the mixture of alcohol and sleep.
With a deep frown, Draco stepped back and wrapped his arms around himself. “You can’t stay here anymore, Harry,” he told him softly. His chest was tight and the fallen gaze on Harry’s face didn’t help with the constriction of his heart.
“What?” Harry muttered in confusion. “I - why?” Draco swallowed the lump in his throat, but Harry continued before he could say anything. “Is this because of the drinking? Seriously? Draco this is-” Draco wouldn’t let him continue.
“Yes, it is. Partially.” He shook his head and blinked. “It’s getting out of hand, Harry. You’ve been sleeping on the couch for three weeks and you act like you don’t even care. You refuse to talk to me, I don’t know where you are half of the time. Hell, you haven’t touched me in weeks, Harry. I’m your boyfriend, not your roommate.” At this point, Draco didn’t even try to blink away the stinging in his eyes. He was pissed, frustrated, sad, and terrified. He loved Harry. But if this was their new normal.. He couldn’t do it.
Harry’s face was fallen, whether shocked or sad, Draco wasn’t sure. He didn’t even know if it mattered. Draco swallowed within the silence. Nothing was said for a long moment until Draco tightened his hold on himself. Tears fell down his face but he kept his voice steady. “Look, I’m sorry I brought up marriage. I - I wasn’t expecting a serious answer and if that scared you, I’m sorry. I just can’t deal with this any-”
Harry stepped forward so quick that Draco couldn’t even pinpoint the exact moment that he moved. The next thing he remembered was that Harry wrapped his arms around the blonde’s shoulders in a tight embrace. “Draco, I am so sorry,” he breathed heavily into Draco’s shoulder. Draco was so shocked at this that he could hardly move. He just stared down at the black rat’s nest in front of him. But when he finally came to his senses, the blonde pushed Harry away with a deep frown.
“No,” he breathed. Harry looked surprised, but terrified. His hands were shaking and Draco couldn’t tell if it was the conversation or lack of whiskey in his system. “I don’t want your apologies, Harry. I want to know what the hell is going on in your head. I want to know if you’re safe, I want to know if you’re stable.” He wiped his eyes and took a deep breath. “I want to know if you still love me, Harry. Because if you don’t - Merlin - then one of us needs to go.”
The tears that fell from Harry’s eyes as Draco spoke had him choking on his own air. It felt like Draco’s stomach was completely turning upside down, but this had to happen, he knew. They had to talk about this.
“I-” Harry shook his head, taking a deep breath as if he couldn’t speak without a heavy amount of air in his chest. “Draco, I love you. So much.” He shook his head quickly and wrapped his arms around himself, stepping back. He looked terrified to come closer. “Merlin, I’m so stupid. I am so sorry.”
Draco could see Harry’s knees buckle, a tell sign that he was holding back his emotions. This time, Draco was the one to step forward. “Why, Harry? That’s all I want to know.”
“I know, I know,” Harry breathed. “The case is - well - not going well,” he started, shaking his head. Draco led them to the table to sit. It was easier that way. “Ron and I hardly have any leads and the pressure only keeps rising. We need to find something to work with.” He let out a shaky breath. “When you brought up - y’know - I freaked out a little.”
Draco snorted. “No shit.” He quieted at the glare Harry sent him.
“A week before I got this case, I had this big proposal planned. I wanted it to be perfect.” Draco’s face fell and his heart tightened. Harry continued before he could speak. “I was going to take you to the lake we first kissed at, bring a stupid picnic and that nasty champagne you like.” Draco gave a small chuckle, wiping his eyes. This brought a small quirk to Harry’s lips. “It was going to be silly, and cheesy, and I even bought you a ring. I left it with Hermione cause I didn’t trust myself to hide it well enough for you not to find it.”
“So what happened?” Draco questioned, taking Harry’s hand gently. The shorter male gave it a squeeze before he continued.
“The case. It got harder, confusing, and dangerous. I didn’t want to propose to you just to have my head preoccupied for the next month to follow. I wanted it to be perfect. That day and every one following.” Harry’s gaze stared at their hands, his thumb running over Draco’s ring finger. It caused the blonde’s heart to skip.
“You could have talked to me about it,” he muttered. Harry frowned with a short nod.
“I know. I was scared I’d let something slip, and I didn’t want to worry you.” Draco opened his mouth to speak but Harry interrupted him. “When you brought up marriage that night, I would’ve proposed right then and there, but I didn’t want you to know that I already had something planned. I mean, I spent a month coming up with every detail. I wasn’t going to let your loving arse ruin my plans.” Draco laughed lightly at this, melting at the sound of chuckles that escaped Harry’s lips. It had been so long.
“And the drinking?’ Draco hummed, tilting his head as Harry kissed the back of his hand. Harry frowned.
“Stress. I was terrified that I’d just up and ask you, and the case had me on the verge of tugging my hair out, and I know you love my hair too much for that.” Draco rolled his eyes but nodded.
“That I do,” he agreed with a nod.
Harry’s small smile fell to one of uncertainty, staring at their hands. The blonde moved closer as he waited for the other to speak again. “I’m so sorry, Draco. I love you, I love you, I love you, and I know I was stupid and I should have just talked to you and told you what was going on. I yelled at myself every night that I came home and I knew it was stupid when I was doing it and-“ He was cut off by a familiar pair of lips on his own. For a long moment, they just kissed slowly. Draco moved his hand to caress the side of Harry’s head. They poured all of their feelings into the kiss; the longing, the sadness, the relief, and the absence.
Draco pulled away first, practically straddling Harry’s lap by now. “You’re a bloody idiot, Potter,” he muttered, shaking his head as he stared down at his boyfriend. “But I love you, and I forgive you.”
Harry grinned so wide that Draco thought that it must strain his cheeks. It didn’t falter, though. “You do?” He asked with so much hopefulness that it had Draco smiling.
“Of course I do,” Draco muttered. Harry covered his lips so fast that Draco couldn’t make out the moment he closed his eyes. For a long moment, they just reveled in each other’s presence and touch, kissing, nipping, and touching every place they could reach.
Harry had to practically force himself to pull away from Draco long enough to speak, breathing shallow. “And you’re bloody mad if you think I’m not taking you on that date still. Hermione won’t let you see the ring, either,” he warned him, earning a laugh from both of them.
Draco grinned, running his hand through the surprisingly soft nest at the top of Harry’s head. “I would be disappointed otherwise.” He knew in that moment that they’d be okay. He just needed to hide the firewhiskey from now on.