Title: Bitter Brew
Author: Musyc
Characters/Pairings: Draco Malfoy/unknown, past Draco Malfoy/Hermione Granger
Rating: NC17
Kinks/Themes Chosen: Altered States
Other Warnings: Alcoholism, self-destructive behavior.
Word Count: 1515
Summary/Description: Dark curls, dark eyes, but they're never her.
Author's Notes: Kinda stretching the applicability of "altered states" here, but sex during blackouts is the same as blackouts from sex, right? >.>



Draco opened his eyes and waited for the room to stop spinning. The pillow beneath his cheek stank of sweat and whiskey. He groaned, shoving it onto the floor. The movement sent an ache spiking through his back, and he rubbed his hand over his shoulder. Flakes of dried blood stuck to his palm. He scrubbed his hand on the sheet and rolled, cursing under his breath as every muscle in his body protested. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he stared at the dark stains on the thighs and crotch of his jeans. With a sigh, he pushed himself to his feet and staggered to the loo.

He stared in the mirror, ignoring the dark shadows beneath his eyes and the pale scruff of stubble along his jaw. His lips were swollen, the lower one cracked at one side, a thin line of dark red marking it. The shade was almost exactly a match for the lipstick surrounding one of his nipples and smeared across his chest in a ragged line. Draco turned his head and examined the bruise on his throat, red and blotchy and bounded by tiny indentations. After running his fingers over them, he decided they were teeth marks.

He muttered promises against her ear, his nose buried in dark curls. Hands clamped on her breasts, hips grinding against her arse. The friction made his cock throb, and he kissed the side of her neck. The woman in his arms shivered, moaning, and she thrust back against him. She reached back and fumbled at the fastenings of his jeans, her fingers slipping beneath the material to find the head of his cock.

He scrubbed the dark lipstick off his chest and hips with a rough flannel, wiped it from his cock and thighs. He found a bruise on his side, another by his knee, and he stared at the purplish fingerprints as the water ran down his body. Washing three times with a harsh soap removed the last traces of sandalwood perfume from his skin. He slicked his hair back and leaned against the wall of the shower, letting the cool tiles ease his pounding headache.

He turned his back to the mirror and ran the tip of his wand across the clawed lines in his shoulders, watching each jagged line fade from red to pink to gone. The bruises on his body took a thick application of salve, the bite on his throat took another. He dressed in the cleanest trousers and shirt he could find on the floor and stumbled into the kitchen, one hand pressed to his temple.

He laced his fingers through dark hair and pressed down. The woman's tongue fluttered against the underside of his cock and she dropped her jaw to take him in. Draco groaned as he felt her lips moving around his shaft, her fingers stroking beneath his bollocks. She swallowed, her mouth squeezing his cock, and he bucked to thrust into her.

Draco edged around the broken bottle in the middle of the kitchen floor, holding back a gag at the smell of sour beer. He rummaged through a cabinet for a potion and drained the vial. He grimaced and looked for tea, coffee, whiskey, anything to wipe the taste of the night off his tongue. All he had was a rind of sharp cheese, green on the edges, and a half-loaf of bread that had turned white and fuzzy on the crust. Grumbling, he gathered his things and left the flat.

He shoved through the crowd of commuters at the train station and stumbled into the bright sunshine. The filth and stench of the Muggle city made him choke, and he lit a cigarette to cover the smell. Hands shoved in his pockets, he headed for the Ministry, his path taken by memory. At one corner, someone touched his arm and he heard a cheerful greeting. He raised his head and stared at the woman, his heart pounding for an instant. Dark curls, dark eyes, teeth just a little too large for her mouth. He focused and his eyes hardened. The pattern of freckles across her nose was too sparse, the line of her jaw was too round, the shade of her hair was too light. "What do you want?" he said, voice rough.

Her smile faltered. "I ... I just was surprised to run into you again. I had a great time last night, but you left before I could get your number. I'd love to see you another night."

Draco shrugged. "You might. Probably you won't. I don't do return engagements. I don't even remember doing you." He remembered a dozen, two dozen women like her, or at least he remembered the evidence he always found the next morning, but they were all a haze of nothing to him. Nothing and no one.

He swallowed as she kissed his throat as soon as they were inside the door, barely taking time to put down her keys and bag before her fingers were working the buttons of his trousers. Draco pushed her dark curls away from her face, then wrapped her hair around his fist and held on as she pulled his cock free and tickled the underside of his shaft. She smiled at him and he looked down at her. Silently, he tugged her hair and pushed her to her knees.

The woman's hand fell away from his arm and she bundled her cardigan around her body. "But.... I don't understand. You were great last night. We danced, we-we-" She leaned in and lowered her voice. "We made love."

"I don't know you." Draco blew smoke at her as she took a step back, her face going pale. "Woman, I woke up this morning with a hangover and absolutely no memory of what I did last night. Or who. Maybe I was with you. Maybe we danced. If we spent any time together at all, then I'm fairly sure we had sex, but that was it. I've only made love to one woman in my life, and it sure as hell wasn't you." The lights changed and the crowd surged forward. Draco glanced at the woman. "Don't bother thinking about me for one more second. I don't give a damn about you and I won't remember you in an hour. I got laid. You got fucked."

Draco pinned her hands to the bed and shoved into her, each thrust rocking the headboard against the wall. She arched beneath him, full breasts swaying, the long curls of her hair sparkling with drops of sweat. She closed her dark eyes and moaned, her ankles locked together behind his back.

He sipped coffee from a paper cup and waited for the lift to reach his floor, each stop causing people and memos to flutter out the door. Before they dropped the final level to his floor, the lift empty of all but a hag sleeping in the corner, the doors opened one more time and a woman stepped inside. She hesitated, looking at him, then pressed the button to close the doors. "Hello, Draco," she said.

He stared at the gold band on her finger as the lift kicked into motion, his heart pounding. "Granger," he said at length. "Back from honeymoon, then."

She chewed her lip and nodded. The doors opened and he strode out. Behind him, Hermione called his name and he paused, cursing himself as he did so. He looked over his shoulder to see her clinging to the door, using her weight to hold it open. "I'm sorry," she said, her voice barely reaching him. "I'm so sorry, Draco. But we ... it never would have worked. You have to know that. You have to understand." She bent her head, dark curls swaying against her cheeks. "I'm sorry."

Draco's throat felt too tight to breathe, his heart too cold to beat. "Everyone does what they have to do," he said. "You're no better than anyone else that way."

She flinched and raised her head, passing her hand across her eyes quickly. Her voice quavered when she spoke, a hitch in her breath. "I did love you. I think.... I think I still do. But it's impossible, Draco. You understand, don't you?"

He turned away and headed down the corridor, his eyes hot and stinging. At his desk, he shoved the lid off his coffee cup and topped it up from the flask he kept in a drawer. He took a long drink straight from the flask and sighed, closing his eyes.

She threw her head back, her hands pressed to the bricks, her dark braid falling over her shoulder. Draco held her skirt up against her hips, using his grip on her to keep from losing his balance and falling to his knees in the wet, stinking rubbish that lined the alley. Her cunt throbbed around him as he drove into her, his bollocks slapping against her body. He felt his abdomen tighten, his nerves tingle, and he jerked out of her to spray his seed across her arse.