Author's Note 17-07-15: A birthday present for the lovely Kajal (aka prongsxdoe). I was all set to write something completely different, and then Mr. Brightside by The Killers came on the radio, and I've never felt a stronger urge to turn a song into a story (and I write obsessively to music). So I had a go at what I felt was a song fic, and I think I pretty much got it right lol. Basically angst with a happy ending. Enjoy! xJx

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Mr. Brightside

It started out with a kiss.

Harry closed his eyes and leaned against the wall, hand clutching around his third or maybe fourth glass of champagne, he'd lost track. These Ministry functions were always a drag, but they were even worse when he felt like his heart was being torn out of his chest right before his eyes.

How did it end up like this? It was only a kiss, a drunken, stupid kiss. But in that moment Harry had realised that he'd been wanting it for years, and seeing him every time since, not acknowledging it, like nothing had happened, it was like having his skin peeled off strip by strip. It was killing him.

He and Draco Malfoy had been rivals. They had been enemies. Then they became allies, acquaintances, friends. Then finally, finally for the briefest of moments, they had been something more.

Harry had thought that night that maybe not all Ministry soirees were terrible, that perhaps this one would be the exception to the rule as he and Draco found each other in the shadows, melting into the darkness in a whispered agreement of trust and want. But that's all it had ever been, a moment.

And now here they both were, opposite sides of the room; Harry feeling sick to his stomach, Draco parading around with…with her.

The tears prickled at the corners of his eyes. It was too much too look, but jealousy writhed in him like snakes, and he couldn't seem to tear his gaze away. Astoria Greengrass. All the magazines hailed them as the next great couple of Magical Britain, with their combined wealth and beauty, their fortunes and children were sure to steer the country into a new era of prosperity. Or something. Harry tended to only catch the headlines before throwing the publications into the nearest wall.

How could he have been so stupid, of course it didn't mean anything, it was only a kiss. Draco probably had people to kiss all the time. Not that Harry didn't, he always had plenty of offers. He just hardly ever took anyone up on them.

And now that he had…he tried to tell himself he was doing just fine, that it was all in his head. But the door had been opened, the beast released from its cage, and Harry knew with heart-wrenching certainty that he had been in love with Draco Malfoy for a very long time.

He knocked back the rest of his glass, only to have it replaced by an eager House-Elf within seconds. He was just torturing himself, watching them stroll side by side through the crowd. He should have known that night was just a flash in the pan, but that didn't help as he watched Astoria crack up laughing, touching her fingers just slightly to Draco's chest as she bent double.

Draco was smiling broadly too, and Harry's insides felt like an icy cold hand was clutching tighter and tighter. He should get out of here, find some friends, just go home, but the masochist in him couldn't bear to leave. So, of course, that's when Draco chose to look up and see him.

For a second all the breath flew from Harry's lungs. Draco looked stunned, like he had no idea Harry would be there. Of course, he wasn't like Harry, tormenting himself as to whether or not the object of his desire would grace him with his presence or not. He had everything under control, it was all laid out, just the way destiny intended. He would carry on with his life, and Harry would just be a footnote, a fond memory that he might look back and smile on.

Harry turned away and pushed himself off the wall. He was too drunk to apparate, but maybe he could call a cab, get someone to whisk him back home where he could just go to bed and forget all about his misery. Deep down he knew there was more to life than Draco, he just needed to remember that again, move on, become whole again.

He was pretty sure his plan would have worked, if not for the hand that grabbed his elbow.

"Harry," said Draco breathlessly as he spun him to a halt in front of him in the all-but empty courtyard. Fairies flitted over their heads, offering soft, shimmering lights as they sang their lullabies to the night's sky. The only other sound was the stone fountain bubbling water to Harry's right, and he held onto that noise to try and ground him. Draco had obviously ran to catch him. Why? Why now, after all these months?

"Draco," he replied, not trusting himself to say anything else.

"I didn't know you'd be here," Draco said awkwardly, letting Harry go.

Harry shrugged and swallowed, willing himself to harden. Draco didn't need to know how much he had broken him. "I do work here," he said with a touch of malice.

Draco bit his lip and glanced at the floor, blond hair falling in front of his eyes. "Yeah, I guess," he said. "I, um…" He coughed. "How have you been?"

Harry could have choked, but he covered it well enough, he hoped. "Fine," he said. "I've been doing just fine."

Draco nodded, seemingly uncertain. "Good," he said. "Good I'm glad to hear it."

The silence stretched, but he didn't seem like he was going to head back inside. Harry sighed. He should be rude, he should just leave him, but if this was the price he had to pay for just a few more moments with Draco, he was saddened to realise he would take it.

"How's Astoria?" he asked, because he wasn't hurting quite enough.

It was Draco's turn to blink. "Astoria?" he asked, like he'd forgotten who she was. "Oh, right, yeah she's great." He beamed fondly, and Harry balked. "She's so good at this sort of thing, that's why I invited her with me, means I can do less of the talking."

Harry frowned, and even in his slight alcohol haze he found something slightly wrong with the turn of phrase. "But surely you'd want her to come anyway?" he found himself saying.

Draco glanced back into the glowing hubbub of the party, the music drifting gently over the night air. "Not always," he said frankly. "Sometimes I don't need a wingman."

"Wingman?" Harry repeated, even more confused.

Draco gave him a shy smile. "Okay," he admitted. "Wing-woman, but the idea is the same."

That seemed a pretty odd thing to call your fiancé as far as Harry was concerned, but he was really starting to regret bringing up his rival anyway. "Yeah, I guess having a partner at these things makes them more bearable."

Draco gave him that shy smile again, and Harry's stomach betrayed him with a flip. "Well," said Draco. "She doesn't mind doing the talking while I do the hard work."

Harry looked back at the throng, and nodded. "Politicians can't seem to get enough of us, can't they?" he said, even managing a small smile of his own. Surprisingly, that elicited a guffaw from Draco. It was less of a laugh and more a bark of relief, and Harry wished he'd either partaken in less champagne, or had more to hand to bolster him. He couldn't read Draco at all.

"Very true," Draco acknowledged. "But Astoria is filibustering for the both of us, so we have some time."

More champagne. He definitely needed more champagne. "Why do we need time?" he asked, holding tight to the waver in his voice.

Draco's looked crestfallen, but he seemed to rally himself. "I know you've been avoiding me-" he began, but Harry's involuntary splutter stopped him.

"I haven't been avoiding you?" he all but squeaked.

Draco looked even more uncomfortable. "Yes, you have," he said sadly. "Ever since that night."

He looked up at Harry with…hope? Hope? "You've been avoiding me?" Harry snapped, his blurriness getting in the way of his tact.

Draco swallowed, glancing back at the party, leading Harry to do the same. They were just in time to see Astoria literally catch Rita Skeeter by the waist and dazzle her with a smile that entranced everyone around them, including the reporter herself.

"I've been afraid," Draco said, dragging Harry back to him.

"Of what?"

"Of you." Harry blinked and took a step back.

"Why on Earth would you be afraid of me?" he asked, genuinely bemused. Then he realised, of course. Draco was afraid he would get clingy, that he would demand a relationship like the love sick puppy he was. A lump rose in his throat and he hung desperately to his dignity. He was Harry Potter, saviour of the magical worlds. How was it possible something so trivial as love could tear him apart.

Because love wasn't trivial, he knew that now.

Draco was struggling with his words. "I know you must have so many people try it on with you," he started, his words tight. "You must do stuff like that all the time."

Harry was lost. "What? Stuff like what?"

Draco looked pained, he grimaced and closed his eyes. "You must hook up a lot, I get that."

"No, I don't," said Harry, an edge to his voice. "What makes you think that?"

Draco looked bewildered and opened up his eager eyes. "You're…Harry Potter."

"And?"

Draco balled his hands into his fists. "And I brought my good friend Astoria along with me so I could finally have the time to work up the courage to tell you that for me, it wasn't just a kiss. That I'm afraid you never even thought about that night again, and it's killing me. That I'm not fine."

Harry couldn't believe what he was hearing. "You…what?" he said, the wetness threatening at the corner of his eyes again. "You…I don't…kiss?"

Smooth, Harry. Smooth.

Draco swallowed visibly, and half turned away. "It's okay," he said. "I get it."

"Well I don't'," Harry cried, making the fairies jump. "You're in there with your fiancé, then you're out here talking about kissing with me? Like I haven't been falling apart, like I haven't been desperate for something, anything from you!"

Draco clenched his jaw, eyes wide and glossy. "I think," he said slowly. "There may have been a bit of a misunderstanding between us."

"Really?" Harry asked, and this time he couldn't help but let his voice hitch just a little.

Draco stepped forward, and, moving by increments, took Harry's hand. Harry let out a noise almost like a sob that he choked back immediately, staring at their entwined fingers in disbelief. "What do you want?" Draco asked simply.

"I want it all," Harry breathed without pause. "I want you, I thought-"

"Good," sighed Draco, visibly defeating as he came even closer, pressing their bodies chest to chest. "Because I want it all too. Merlin Harry, I never, I never…"

"And Astoria?" Harry forced himself to ask, fearing the worse, but Draco just beamed, that pride resurfacing again. For a second, Harry panicked.

"The best, and I mean the best wing-woman a guy could ever hope for. She's my angel." He pulled Harry's hands up in his own, so they were pressed between their shoulders, their shuddering chests flushed together. "She loves the idea of us almost as much as I do."

Harry was glad Draco was holding onto him, because his knees might just have abandoned him in that instance. "Us?" he repeated. "What about you guys? All those articles…?"

"Codswallop," Draco smirked, angling his face closer to Harry's. "My punishment for all the time I wasted between us."

"There's that 'us' again," Harry murmured, not daring to really believe his luck.

Draco's face fell in pain again, and squeezed Harry's hands. "Is there an us?" he asked, naked vulnerability clear. "Did I imagine it?"

Harry could feel his heart on the edge of breaking again. He had to stop playing games. "There's an us," he said firmly, moving his lips closer to Draco's. "If you want it?"

"I want it all," Draco repeated, tears in his eyes as he finally closed the gap between them.

It was only a kiss. It was only a kiss.

But Harry couldn't help but to think on the bright side.

End