FIC: Before He Cheats (Harry/Draco)

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Title: Before He Cheats
Author: sw33tch3rrypi3 
Prompt: PROMPT #73
Adapted From: Carrie Underwood "Before He Cheats" Song Lyrics (Took them and ran like crazy!)
Pairing: Draco/Harry
Word Count: 13,384
Rating: NC-17
Contains (Highlight to view): *Very Mild Cross-Dressing, Rimming*
Disclaimer: Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Notes: My thanks and never-ending love and adoration to my beta team of C.C. (FF’s WriteSprite) & nutmeg_44 for their hard work, for not telling me that version one sucked (even though it did) and for telling me that this one is great, even though it might not be. I also send hugs & thanks to appleling, whose nuzzles, cheering, and pompom waving were always perfectly timed to push me through my procrastination! Also, thanks to dracogotgame for the fantastic prompt, and I hope you recognize a few bows to your excellent writing here! ;)
Summary: Harry is tired of dating men who try to make themselves whatever they think he wants. After another bad date, he comes across Draco beating the hell out of his cheating ex’s Porsche. Now Harry knows what – and who – he wants, but Draco’s guarding his bruised heart in a very Malfoy way.




“Jarod, you’re lovely, truly…”

“And I think you’re lovely, Harry!”

Harry Potter did his best to smile at his date, who clutched his hand across the dinner table and beamed back at him. It was their second outing; Harry believed in being fair, after all. He’d chosen a muggle area where he wouldn’t be recognized to ensure them quiet alone time, hoping to feel a spark. After all, if you couldn’t fall for someone on New Year’s Eve, when else could it possibly happen? But even in the middle of L’Amandier, London’s newest and most romantic restaurant, he felt only mild friendliness toward the quiet, brunet bookshop owner.

“Jarod, where do you see us headed?”

Jarod’s smile dimmed for a brief moment, his placid blue eyes blinking owlishly, before it returned, full-force. “Why, wherever you want us to be headed Harry, of course.”

Harry’s mouth tightened slightly and he nodded, gently pulling his hand away and picking up his wine glass as an excuse. Wasn’t this a symptom of his entire problem? It seemed that every man he’d gone out with since coming out two years before only wanted to be what he wanted. They were so bent on pleasing him that they all seemed to have no more individual personality than a dish flannel. After a while, in fact, they all simply blended together. He was fortunate to even remember their names.

Harry glanced around the dining room as he picked at the remains of his pheasant and felt guilty for hoping that Jarod wouldn’t want dessert. He knew he wouldn’t be seeing the man again after tonight; his preference for quiet and solitude over his date’s company was a very strong indicator of this, indeed. Harry raised a brow in slight surprise when he spotted Blaise Zabini at a small corner table, canoodling with an elegant golden-haired woman. He wondered for a moment at the man being in a muggle restaurant. The world had definitely moved on, Harry thought, if even that shifty snake could find someone. Would he ever be as lucky?

He ached for someone who would disagree with him, challenge him. Someone who cared less about making him happy than building whatever messy perfection they could have together. Someone with fire and passion, someone he wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about, rather than someone whose face he struggled to recall when they weren’t with him. With a sigh, he finished off his wine and pushed back his chair.

“Let me walk you out, Jarod.”


*


Draco Malfoy fled through the restaurant, kitchen staff watching him with surprise and wariness as he searched for a back exit with his best friend since diapers hot on his heels. He was not going to cry, damnit! He was not.

“Draco, wait!” Pansy shouted, skirting around a waitress with a large tray heading for the door separating the kitchen from the dining room.

Draco ignored her, pushing through the door and out into the cold night. He collapsed against the cream brick wall of the building, bowing his head and taking deep breaths. He’d only cried once in his life, and it wasn’t going to happen again now. So what if his boyfriend was apparently blatantly cheating on him? So what if there probably wasn’t another wizard in the entire world who would have Draco? So what if even Harry bloody Potter could apparently have a normal relationship, while Draco was destined to be a spinster forever? Numb, he wondered if Potter had seen him turn tail and bolt in that embarrassing fashion, as comforting arms wrapped around his shoulders.

“We honestly tried to tell you, Draco. We didn’t know how,” Pansy said quietly.

He nodded stiffly, knowing it was true. For the last several weeks, he’d felt an uncomfortable undercurrent whenever he, Blaise, Pansy and Adrian had doubled. Adrian, as it turned out, had heard fairly concrete rumors and had long held his own suspicions about his business partner, and had confided in his wife. Draco had been blissfully ignorant, believing Blaise was in love with him. He’d even believed him when he told Draco that he couldn’t take him out tonight because he had to work late.

“Come on, darling,” Pansy cooed. “Let’s take you home.” She looped her arms through one of his, and Draco allowed her to lead him toward the alley to disapparate. As they crossed the quiet, deserted lot, however, the clouds shifted and the moonlight shone down like a beacon on one of the metal deathtraps parked near the restaurant. Draco recognized the custom two-tone teal and silver metallic paint job of Blaise’s “baby,” the Porsche boxster he’d purchased once owning muggle items had come into fashion, and had had outfitted with flying capabilities and an invisibility booster. Draco stopped dead, his eyes glinting with satisfaction.

“Wait, Pans. I have a better idea.”


*


Harry was crossing the parking lot to the alley after seeing Jarod off when he heard the commotion. Hesitating, he shook his head and continued toward the apparition point. This was a muggle area; there was no need for him to intercede.

Two steps later, however, the sound of glass breaking caused him to turn about. Before he could reconsider, he headed back in the direction from which he’d come.

“Disgusting, cheating, lying, ARSEHOLE!”

Harry frowned as a man’s angry voice cut through the night, followed by a crash and some muffled, frantic whispering. He knew he wasn’t far from whatever was going on, but the night was inky black and he could only make out shadows. Saying a quick prayer that he wouldn’t have to obliviate anyone, he pulled out his wand. “Lumos.”

What the hell?

Draco Malfoy, potioner extraordinaire and still gorgeous enough to cause Harry unease, was beating the shit out of an expensive car with a beater’s bat as Pansy Parkinson looked on. She was standing not two feet from where Harry had paused, wringing her hands and begging Draco in whispers to stop before someone saw them.

As they watched, Draco swung the bat over his head with all of his might, smashing it against the windshield and sending a spider web pattern across the entire piece of glass. He grunted with satisfaction, swinging again and taking off the driver’s side mirror. “I hate your stupid face! Worthless, fucking wanker!”

Pansy glanced over at Harry and sighed. “Come to arrest him, have you?”

Harry blinked in surprise. Her tone was resigned, but friendly. “What would I be arresting him for?”

Pansy’s lips twisted. “He wouldn’t be doing it, you know, except that he’s a bit emotionally distraught.”

He raised a brow as Draco began making deep scratches in the car’s paint with the bat handle while cursing. “The car Zabini’s?”

She sighed again. “Who else?”

“Last I heard from Gin that was over.” While Harry didn’t usually socialize with Draco and Blaise, or Pansy, for that matter, Ginny was married to Alex Harper, one of their circle, and generally kept him up on Slytherin gossip. Sometimes he even listened.

“Yes, well, somebody breathed,” Pansy said grouchily. Draco pulled out his wand and slashed two of the car’s tires with cutting curses, causing the entire thing to tilt drunkenly. The night went quiet as he paused in his assault and stood, panting with exertion. Biting her lip, Pansy stepped close to the blond.

“Draco, darling, please calm down and come home with me. Auror Potter has been kind enough not to arrest you thus far, but surely there is a limit to what even he can get away with. You’ll want to be gone when Blaise arrives, as well. Come, now.” She extended her arms and wiggled her fingers as if trying to lure a small child.

Draco turned in surprise to look at Harry, as if noticing him for the first time. Harry was amused to note that without his cool façade, Draco’s face was quite expressive, and embarrassment was clearly warring with contempt there. Finally, Draco vanished the beater’s bat, nodded to Harry, and walked past Pansy and toward the alley with his chin lifted.

Pansy rolled her eyes and began to follow after him. She paused just after leaving the edge of the lighted area, and Harry heard her clear her throat. “Th…Goodnight.”

Chuckling, he shook his head and glanced at the destruction left behind. He could, of course, fix everything without breaking a sweat. Instead, he tucked away his wand and stuck his hands in his pockets, strolling toward the apparition point feeling lighter than he had in a long time.

That night, Harry lay awake for several hours, unable to sleep. His mind wasn’t on Jarod, or even the guilt he should feel about refusing to report a crime. Instead, he was thinking about the hot surge he’d felt watching Draco Malfoy walk away.


*


Draco shook his head and silently cursed himself as he realized he’d added the phoenix feather too soon and ruined another batch of healing elixir. Snuffing out the flame beneath the cauldron with his wand, he leaned against the counter behind him and rubbed his tired eyes with the fingers of both hands.

What was wrong with him? He’d never found it so difficult to concentrate before. He supposed the lack of sleep wasn’t helping, but he hadn’t slept alone well since his sixth year at school. With a shudder, he stubbornly pushed those particular memories out of mind and took a deep breath.

So he was single again. He just had to get used to it. After all, it wasn’t like he actually had time for a relationship anyway! He had enough to do with his potions business, and everyone else would just have to understand that. And Merlin, really, there were certainly worse things that could happen! He could make a direr mistake during brewing and blow himself up. His mother could try to set him up on another blind date, hoping his homosexuality was a “phase.” Pansy could write his floo coordinates on the wall of the quidditch world cup pitch men’s room again. And next time she might choose the stall with the glory hole. Not that Draco would know anything about that.

Hell, Harry Potter could come storming into his lab and interrupt his moment of self-pity – Wait a second.

Draco crossed his arms and glared at the familiar man who had just entered the backroom lab of his Diagon Alley shop. He looked flushed and mildly irritated, and far too good for Draco’s comfort.

“Something I can help you with, Auror Potter? This area is personnel only.”

“Is there anyone else here?” Potter seemed to glance around quickly, and then centered his attention on Draco.

The blond rolled his eyes. “If you mean any of your adoring public, I’m afraid not. Only us ex-death eaters today.”

Harry’s jaw relaxed, and he seemed to sigh soundlessly as he relaxed against the wall across from Draco. “Sorry to barge in on you. I was trying to take lunch and somebody alerted the media. Apparently they still want to know how I feel about Ginny being married, no matter how many times I tell them I’m perfectly happy for her and gay.”

Draco felt his lips twitch and momentarily forgot his desire to get Potter out of his shop as soon as possible. “The Ginny who has been married for nearly two years now?”

“Right?” Harry flung his arms wide with an exasperated look, before seeming to realize that he wasn’t chatting with a friend and dropping them again quickly. “Anyway, er, sorry again. This was the closest open shop to disappear into and, well, I kind of figured you owed me one.”

Potter’s rueful grin was disarming, and Draco couldn’t stop his eyes from darting down to appreciate the fit of the Auror’s extremely tailored trousers. He turned quickly and pretended to busy himself sorting some stirring rods. “Yes, well, I suppose this makes us even,” he said as icily as possible while willing his wild libido to stop being pathetic.

“Seems quiet today. You must do a lot of business. I’ve heard you have a large client list.”

I’ve heard you have a large…not going there. “Yes, well, it tends to be slow during the day. Most people who have jobs are working at them, you know. Like perhaps you ought to be, Potter.” He waited for some sort of caustic response, but was met only with silence as he carefully polished the silver rod in his hand. Wrap, pull…wrap, pull…wrap, pull…definitely the wrong verbs to be thinking about with his most secret of secret crushes mere feet away. Gods, why doesn’t Potter say something?

“Do you often wear lavender, or are these ones for special occasions?” Harry asked, and Draco was struck both by the oddness of his question and the strange rough quality to his voice that made Draco’s knees feel melty as he turned. He blinked, startled by how close the other man had moved, and then gaped at the lace panties that the brunet held aloft.

“Those aren’t mine, you idiot,” he hissed, embarrassed. “They’re Pansy’s. She was changing here last week and left them on the floor. I kicked them into a corner and forgot about them!”

Harry raised a brow. “Really?” He leaned in close, invading Draco’s space, and his eyes slowly raked over Draco, who resisted the urge to shiver. “Too bad.” He tossed the knickers back into the corner as he stepped back and lifted his hand in a wave. “Guess I’ll see you around, Malfoy.”

The bell on the front door jingled as Potter left the shop, with Draco still leaning against the counter feeling confused, irritated, and extremely turned on. No, no, not turned on! He didn’t have time for turned on, and for fuck’s sake, Potter? They would kill each other. Worse idea since…well, ever. With a huff, Draco went back to business.


*


Harry couldn’t stop grinning if his life depended on it. Which was unfortunate, really, since he was writing reports on a tragic mass-hexing. His fellow Aurors kept giving him strange looks. He couldn’t bring himself to care, though. For the first time in a really, really long time he felt like his life was on the right track.

After laying awake well into the first morning of the new year thinking about Draco Malfoy, he’d realized that the answer to his problem was smacking him in the face. Didn’t he want a partner who wouldn’t kowtow to him, who wouldn’t roll over and give him whatever he wanted? Didn’t he want someone who would challenge him, excite him? Malfoy fit that description perfectly. Not to mention, he was smoking hot. It had taken all of Harry’s willpower to rein himself in and walk away today, but he knew he needed to take things more slowly. He’d done all he needed to do for now; the idea was planted, and he could only hope that Malfoy would let it grow as he recovered from his breakup.


*


“Come on, Draco! It’s Friday night. Stop being boring and come out with us,” Pansy wheedled. She was perched on a stool in his office, wearing a tiny black dress that left nothing to the imagination. Behind her, Adrian leaned against the wall in a muggle-style polo shirt and denims. They were headed to a non-wizarding club where nobody would harass them, and they’d been trying to convince Draco to accompany them for nearly half an hour.

“Pansy, Friday night is invoice night. I have far too much work to do to waste time on frivolity.” He added several more receipts to the pile in front of him as the conjured green numbers above his head changed to reflect the new total.

Pansy rolled her eyes. “Do you even hear yourself when you speak? You need your pipes cleaned verily, darling.”

Draco grimaced. “No, thank you. I believe I shall pass on anonymous sex with a muggle.”

“Fine then, don’t have sex. Just go out and see people, Draco. How are you ever going to find Mr. Right hiding here all the time?” Pansy huffed, and Draco eyed her suspiciously.

“Have you been speaking to my mother?”

Adrian chuckled, and Pansy couldn’t disguise her guilty expression.

“You have been speaking to my mother!” Draco exclaimed, slamming the papers in his hand back onto the desktop. “Pansy Penelope Parkinson Pucey…”

Pansy held her hands up defensively. “She flooed today because she couldn’t get you at home. And honestly, Draco, she is my godmother. I have a right to speak to her if I wish,” she finished snootily.

Draco leaned back against his chair and crossed his arms. “All right, let’s have it then. Who is she?”

Pansy had the decency to blush, but it was her husband who answered. “Some daughter of a couple she knows from France. Pansy asked what she looked like, and your mum said she has good connections and a lovely disposition.”

Draco gagged. “That’s an extra hell no, thank you, then.” He sighed and looked up at Pansy. “Darling, please just run along without me. I really need to get this paperwork in order, and now I’ll have to floo Mother back before she sends the Aurors out to check up on me.”

Pansy pouted, but slid from her stool and bent to kiss his cheek. “Fine, but you will come with us next week Draco Malfoy, if I have to levitate you all the way there.” Draco waved her off, and eventually she and Adrian left.

It was nearly an hour before Draco had all of his finances in order for the end of the previous year, and he ached with weariness as he snuffed out the candles. Thankfully, his floo connected directly to his home, and moments later he was standing in the living room of his flat. He wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed for a nice, long sleep, but he knew he would be raked over the coals if his mum didn’t hear from him before she went to bed.

Kneeling at the hearth, he tossed in the floo powder. “Malfoy Manor.”

“Draco?” His mother’s voice sounded as tired as his own, her face was drawn, and he realized guiltily that she must have drifted off on the chesterfield in front of the fire.

“Hello, Mother. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

Narcissa waved a hand airily. “It is never too late to hear from you, dearest. Did Pansy tell you that I called?”

Draco cringed. “She did. I am sorry Mother, but I just don’t think –”

“But Draco, love, you haven’t even met this one yet! She’s absolutely charming, and she graduated from Beauxbatons at the top of her class, and –”

“No, Mum. I’m sorry, but no,” Draco interrupted as gently as he could.

His mother’s shoulders drooped slightly. “Oh, I see. Well, all right then, darling.”

Draco twisted his fingers nervously in his lap. “Mother, it never is going to be a witch, you know.”

Narcissa’s eyes softened and she seemed to lean nearer to the flames. “Oh, Draco, that doesn’t matter to me. Truly, not anymore. Not after…” She swallowed visibly, her lashes fluttering as she regained control of her emotions. “I just wish that you would settle down, even if it’s with a nice young wizard.”

Draco sighed. “Mother…”

“Did I mention I’ve had the Healer here again today?” she interrupted smoothly.

Draco froze. “Again? I thought the headaches had gone away.”

“Well, yes…mostly. But I’ve been having the strangest pains in my chest, so I thought perhaps I should have Healer Douglas examine me again.”

“Chest pains? What sort of chest pains?” he demanded.

Narcissa’s gaze darted away. “I am sure it’s nothing, my darling. The Healer simply thinks that the unfortunate events of the past may have weakened my heart just a bit. Now that I am not as fresh as I once was, the stress is simply taking its delayed toll. But he is certain that I have several good years left. As I said, it’s nothing my Dragon.”

Draco felt his stomach twist at the thought of losing his mother, his last surviving parent and the one he truly loved. As meddlesome and as infuriating as she could be, she was also courageous and optimistic and completely devoted to him. What would he do without her?

“Of course, I do worry about you, son. If something should happen to me, you would be left all alone…” Narcissa lifted a silk handkerchief to her eye with a smothered sniffle.

“I’m not alone,” Draco said automatically, desperate to reassure her. Take it back. Take it back right now before you say something you’ll really regret. “I’ve got company.” Liar!

“Oh?” his mother perked considerably. “A nice gentleman friend?”

“Um, y-yes, a man. A very attractive, single man, actually. You should see him Mother, he puts Lockhart to shame. And, uh, he’s very charming. You would adore him. It’s…it’s quite serious.”

A blissful smile crept over Narcissa’s features. “Oh Draco, how wonderful! And what is his name?”

“H-his name?” At his mother’s encouraging nod, Draco began to cast his thoughts about frantically for a name, any name. “Name, right. Well…you see…it’s…” come on, come on! He couldn’t tell her the truth now; his mother was having chest pains, for Merlin’s sake! With a sigh, he sent up a quick prayer not to be struck instantly dead and uttered the name of the only man who had been on his mind for days. “Harry Potter.” Janus Thickey Ward, here I come.


*


“Okay, we’re here. So now what?” Pansy asked with clear irritation, sucking more of her pink frozen drink through the ridiculous swirly straw the barman had given her.

Draco closed his eyes for a brief moment so that he wouldn’t roll them, and looked around the cozy wizarding club. “Alex guaranteed he would be here for happy hour. I just have to find him…and…that is…”

Pansy cackled. “And ask him to be your pretend boyfriend? All while trying not to be recognized and hexed by our better untarnished witches and wizards? Good luck with that.”

The blond pulled a face. “How was I supposed to know that Mum would be so incredibly delighted with the prospect of Potter and me that she would invite herself to tea on Tuesday? Something is not on in her head…” he muttered.

Pansy patted his shoulder. “There, there. It could be worse. At least you never told your mum that you and Blaise were at it again. Although, I notice you don’t seem all that broken up about what happened,” she mused, sipping at her drink again.

“Beating the shit out of his car helped. And denial. I am excellent at denial.”

“Yes, you are. Too late now, though. There he is,” Pansy pointed to a table across the way where Potter had just sat down with Weasley and two Aurors Draco wasn’t acquainted with.

He placed his glass on the bar, and rubbed his palms down the front of his robes in an attempt to stop their shaking. He drew in an unstable breath. “I really have to do this, don’t I?”

Pansy attempted what he reckoned was meant to be a sympathetic smile, but she looked on the verge of laughter. “You were too specific with your mum, Draco. You should have made up a random name and then you could have hired anyone. And you should have known that she would want to meet someone you might be serious with. Let’s face it, Potter has ‘spouse, house, 2.4 munchkins and a crup’ written all over him.”

“Tell me something I do not already know, you cow. I thought I could get by for a few days and then tell her we broke up. I had a great story planned about how his wand couldn’t expecto my patronum and everything. It was the perfect way out and the perfect way to finally get one up on that prat,” he sighed.

Pansy glanced over at Potter’s table again. “You think anyone would buy that? That is one fit man. He could expecto my…”

“Pansy!”

“Well! Look, you have to break up eventually anyhow, right? You can still use that excuse.”

He shook his head sadly. “If Potter temporarily loses what little mind he has and is kind enough to go through this farce, I won’t have the heart.”

Pansy put on a look of faux surprise. “You have one in the first place?”

“Pansy…”

“Sorry, sorry. Draco, look, you don’t have to do this. Just tell your mother the truth, and explain that you do not need a man to validate you.”

He scowled. “You’ve been watching that Orca woman again.”

“Oprah. I swear, Draco, for a muggle she is an absolute genius.”

“I rue the day Adrian bought you that telly.” Draco took another gulp of his flaming old-fashioned. “Besides, Pans, I can’t tell her. It might kill her. She keeps reminding me that I am her only chance for grandchildren.” He pushed his glass back onto the table, his stomach suddenly even more uneasy than before.

“Alright, alright,” Pansy soothed. “Well, if you are going to go through with this thing sometime this year, now is your best chance. Weasley just went to the loo.”


*


“Potter, you just don’t know what you’re talking about. The Caracas team doesn’t even come close to Wimbourne in speed, and their beaters look like they couldn’t lift their teacups without assistance,” Oscar Blackrook insisted, crossing one ankle over his knee and leaning back in his chair. “I say Wimbourne makes it to the finals over the Conquistadors by at least three-hundred.”

Harry grinned and shrugged good-naturedly. “I like the underdog. Caracas has been regularly underestimated. I’ll grant you a slim margin, but I think they can do it.” He took a draw from his bottle of lager, noticing as he swallowed that Blackrook and Tobias Henson, the other Auror at the table, were quiet and staring over his shoulder. He turned, and his smile brightened even further.

“Hey Malfoy! Fancy meeting you here. Pull up a chair?” He gestured toward the seat Ron had vacated. Based on the fact that his friend had gulped down a very questionable Ploughman’s, he figured they had awhile before the redhead returned.

Malfoy nodded to the other two men at the table and then turned his attention on Harry. The brunet realized that the man had his hands clasped together so tightly that his knuckles were white. He put his bottle down and stood abruptly.

“What’s wrong?” Harry asked Draco quietly.

Draco smirked slightly and shook his head. “It’s…it’s nothing, really. I was just hoping that we could talk…privately.”

Harry’s eyes widened with surprise. He’d been trying to do the gentlemanly thing and go slowly. He’d even wondered if he was moving too slowly. Could it be that Draco was coming to him? “Of course,” he nodded and gave his friends a wave to let them know everything was alright as he and Draco moved to a quiet corner. Unable to help himself, he came to stand closer to the other man than strictly necessary.

Draco raised a brow and pushed against Harry’s chest with his fingertips to gain some breathing room. He jerked his hand away just as Harry’s skin sparked at the contact.

Harry took a step back with an amused glance and crossed his arms. “Now, suppose you tell me why you suddenly find me worthy of your presence?”


*


Draco could feel himself flush. Damn, why couldn’t Potter be hideous or smell like old cheese? Or both? It would make this embarrassing ordeal so much easier if he didn’t have to be so bloody attracted to the man.

“Well, Potter…you see…” Draco swallowed in a vain attempt to moisten his rapidly-drying mouth. Damn, this was even more difficult than he had anticipated. If only he’d been more polite to the man in the past, he might have been more confident in Potter’s willingness to help him. Nervously, he licked his lips.

“Fuck,” Harry whispered quietly, and suddenly he was moving rapidly closer. Draco’s eyes widened.

“Wha-what are you doing, Potter?” He stepped backward, trying to keep distance between them.

Harry grinned and shook his head. “No clue. But I think I’m about to kiss you.” He leaned forward.

Draco gasped and fingered the handle of his wand. “Don’t you dare!” he hissed, despite the fact that part of him was practically singing at the idea. “You try it and I’ll have you flat on your back before you can draw your wand, Potter.”

Harry’s look turned amused as he reached out and ran a fingertip over Draco’s cheek. Draco gritted his teeth against the overwhelming urge to lean that cheek into Potter’s hand. “On my back, hmm, Malfoy? So you would be on top? Funny, you definitely strike me as a bottom.” He leaned in closer, his lips next to Draco’s ear. “A hungry bottom. The type who loves the feeling of being opened wide around a fat cock…my cock.”


Draco’s breathing had gone shallow, and his lashes fluttered as he struggled to keep his eyes open. “I…I um…”

“Hey Harry, we’re ready to go!” Weasley’s shout roused Draco from his stupor, and the noise of the room came rushing back into his ears. Angrily, he shoved Harry away hard, satisfied when the man stumbled backward and barely managed to stay on his feet.

“You’re a real bastard, you know that, Potter?” Draco turned.

“Wait! Malfoy, you haven’t told me what you wanted to talk about.”

Draco gave him a universal gesture and kept walking until he reached Pansy. He hauled her gently up by the arm and tugged her along with him toward the exit.

No way, no how was he ever even pretending to like that complete git.


*


“Give me that!” Pansy attempted to grab the offending item out of Draco’s hand again.

“No! I need it!” Draco pouted and twisted away.

“You do not need that rubbish, Draco! And you will hate me if I let you finish it. Give it here!”

Draco managed to weave around her and stuck another spoonful of ice cream in his mouth. In his other hand was a Ben & Jerry’s Chubby Hubby carton. “I deserb ip,” he mumbled around his mouthful before swallowing. “Orca said so.”

Pansy sighed and gave up, flopping onto the sofa. “It’s Oprah. And exactly why did she say you deserve to act like a witch on her period?”

The blond scowled and sat beside her, tucking himself into a small ball against the arm. “Pansy, in case it has escaped your notice, my year thus far sucks. And to top it off, I have to figure out how to tell my mother that Potter and I aren’t even dating. That we never were.” He groaned and scooped another bite of ice cream into his mouth.

“Draco…” Pansy said cautiously, “what about Polyjuice? You know, you could pull from that club in London you like, and get him to drink himself into Potter!”

Draco shook his head. “Mum would know. Not only can she smell the potion from a kilometer away, but she sat and guarded Potter for hours when the…when Voldemort thought he was dead. She would know the difference,” he said quietly, but confidently. “Besides, there’s no way to get one of Potter’s hairs. I’ve heard they’re protected against that sort of thing.”

Pansy nodded, discouraged. “Well, maybe…”

The floo flared to life, and Draco looked down into his mother’s face. He quickly shoved the melting ice cream into Pansy’s hands and slid to the floor.

“Hello, Mother.” He tried to sound happy, while smothering the butterflies in his stomach.
Narcissa beamed. “Hello my Dragon! I hate to bother you, I know you must be so busy between work and spending time with Mr. Potter, but I only wanted to ask you his robe size.”

“His robe size?” Draco asked in confusion.

“Yes. You see, I was in town today and I happened to pass by a shop with the most stunning ebony silk in the window, and I was just thinking that it’s never too early for the atelier to begin on the ceremony robes,” she said dreamily. “Of course, if Mr. Potter should decide not to wear them for your special day, they can be worn to any formal event. “

Draco swallowed. “Um, Mum, I don’t know if…”

“If Mr. Potter prefers a formal ceremony? Oh yes dear, I thought as much. Though, the two of you really should discuss such things. The most desirable places will be reserved quite early, so we’ll want to work quickly. Of course, with Mr. Potter’s name, you’ll have many more options than I ever supposed…” Narcissa dabbed discretely at her suspiciously shiny eyes.

“Mother…” Draco closed his own eyes and bit back a groan. How on earth was he supposed to tell her?

“And, oh, my Draco…I thought I might…might ask my sister if she would like to help us plan everything. Only if it’s alright with you, of course, darling. I know that she is close with Mr. Potter, and I thought it would be a chance to…” she sniffled delicately and dabbed at the corners of her eyes once more. “Oh Draco, after all these years. It’s so wonderful.” Narcissa smiled beatifically through her tears.

Draco sighed. “Yes Mother…wonderful. I have to go now, but…but Harry and I will be so glad to see you on Tuesday.” His mother blew him a kiss just before he closed the connection and sat back, burying his face in his hands.

“I am seriously fucked.”

Pansy handed him the now-empty carton and spoon, which he vanished absentmindedly. “Only if you wish to be.”

Draco peeked up at her with a frown. “Don’t start that again.”

“I am telling you, you overreacted. The man was flirting with you.”

He scoffed. “Right. Because a man like that, who could have anybody, is going to actively pursue me. He was just being an arse, Pansy.”

The brunette tsked and shook her head. “I’d like to string Blaise up by his toes and practice my stinging hex on his bits.” She slid to the floor next to him and placed a hand on his knee. “I want my confident Draco back. And you need him back to get out of this mess.”

Draco shrugged. “I –” He was interrupted by a pounding on the front door of his flat. He glanced at Pansy curiously. “Who could that be?”

“I should be going, anyhow,” she said. “I want to be home when Adrian gets in from that stag party. Someone will have to pour him into bed and take advantage of him,” Pansy smirked. She lifted her cloak from the back of a chair where she’d draped it and followed Draco to the door.

He opened it to find a chagrinned-looking Potter on the other side.

Pansy nodded to the Auror as she slipped past him, shooting Draco a grin over her shoulder. “Have fun, love!”

Draco made a face after her, but his attention was drawn back to Potter when the man cleared his throat. He scowled.

“What do you want?”

“No need to worry, Malfoy. I am here in an official capacity.”

“Oh? And what dastardly deed do you plan to accuse me of?”

Harry looked shocked for a moment, and then chuckled. “Nothing like that. Could we talk inside, please?”

Draco stared him down for a minute before moving aside and allowing the other man to enter. He mentally cringed when he remembered he was wearing his oldest, threadbare cotton lounging trousers and the plain long-sleeved casual shirt he’d changed into after the club. Too late to do anything about it now.

He gestured to a chair and Potter sat, while he took the sofa for himself.

“Seems our roles are reversed,” Harry chuckled, jiggling his leg in what Draco thought was probably a nervous habit. “Turns out I’m the one seeking you out for a chat.”

Draco glared at the reminder of that afternoon, and Harry bit his lip.

“I wanted to say sorry, for the way I acted today. I guess I thought that you were…”

The blond waved a hand frostily. “Forgotten. Was there something else?”

“Yeah, uh…you see, we just got this case in. A poisoning, with a trace our guys have never seen before. We need an expert to examine it, and see if they can come up with what it could be. We’re guessing it’s something either ancient enough to be nearly obsolete, or something brand-new. But we can’t really afford to pay anyone…” he trailed off, looking uncomfortable.

Draco perked, intrigued by both the mystery and the opportunity. “So you’re asking me to do free consulting work.”

Harry nodded, still looking discomfited. “That’s about the short of it, yeah. I could bring samples tomorrow, so you could work in your own lab as long as I’m declared as chaperone.”

“I see. Well, if I’m not getting monetary compensation, why not barter? There’s something else I want in exchange,” Draco said smugly, warming to the idea.

“And what’s that?”

“You.”


*


“He wants what?!” Ron exclaimed, losing the mouthful of mushy peas he’d just taken back onto his plate. Hermione sighed and handed him another napkin.

“Me,” Harry grinned, taking a bite of his chicken and chewing with enthusiasm.

“Your time,” Hermione corrected pointedly as she spooned more mash onto Rose’s tray. “And perhaps your acting skills…or lack-there-of. Honestly Harry, how can you even be considering this?”

“Yeah mate, a fake engagement? To Malfoy?” Ron shuddered. “First of all, it sounds like he’s up to something. And second of all, eww, bloody eww!”

“Ronald!” Hermione reprimanded, nodding toward Rose.

“’Mione, she can’t even get mash into her mouth without rubbing it on her head first. I think we’re safe for a bit yet before she begins the repeating thing.”

Hermione rolled her eyes and kissed her daughter’s head, picking peas out of her auburn curls.

Harry shook his head bemusedly. “I knew you wouldn’t be happy about it. But Malfoy has agreed to do all of the consulting work we need at no charge, and not just for this case. Imagine how much faster potions-related crimes will get solved, Ron. I’m taking him the current samples tomorrow, and he’s going to clear his entire client schedule until he’s done with them. And, come on, the guy is just trying to make his mum happy. You can hardly call that an evil plot.”

Ron swiped a piece of bread through his gravy. “I still don’t have to like it,” he muttered. “You’re a good Auror, Harry, taking one for the team.”

Hermione picked at her plate and smiled slyly toward her friend. “Something tells me it’s not such a hardship on our Harry. Malfoy is fairly easy on the eyes.”

Harry smiled back at her, feeling the giddiness building back up within him. After the debacle with Malfoy that afternoon, he’d been certain the blond wanted nothing to do with him. But to know that he had been Malfoy’s choice for a fake fiancé, and now to have the chance to be close to him…things were looking up.

Ron made a gagging sound and pushed away his empty plate. “I was going to offer to talk to Kingsley and try to come up with some sort of payment for Malfoy, but you actually want to do this, don’t you?” he asked, baffled. At Harry’s nod, he sighed deeply and shrugged before standing.

“Come on love,” Ron said, lifting his daughter from her highchair. “Let’s get you washed up before they lure you over to their side, too.”


*


“Have you considered your choice of wardrobe?” Draco asked as he carefully measured out the powdered base for the sample testing. With Potter so close, driving him to distraction, he had to triple-check the correctness.

Harry slouched back in his chair with his feet up on one of Draco’s lab tables. Idly, he tossed a wadded ball of parchment into the air and caught it in a steady rhythm. “Not really. It’s just tea. I thought maybe a pair of old denims and this great worn-in jumper I have.”

Draco spun around to face Harry, a horrified look on his face. Harry only managed to remain stoic for a few seconds before he burst out laughing.

“Don’t worry Malfoy, even I know better. I’ll let you dress me if you like. Hell, you can even pick out my pants,” he said with a heated look.

Draco gulped and quickly turned his back on the other man again, hating how his heart raced so easily. Damn Potter and his stupid mind games. “Whatever, Potter. Surely you aren’t that helpless.”

“Maybe not,” Harry conceded.

“I think I should devise some sort of dating history for us,” Draco said once he had stabilized his bases. Steeling his resolve, he turned to look at Harry again. “After all, if we’re supposed to be all but engaged, it stands to reason we’ve been on at least several outings.”

“And why do you get to plan them all?”

Draco scoffed. “Because I am not your usual fare, Potter,” he said, sliding into a chair next to the brunet. “I would not be impressed with dinner at the Leaky and a quidditch match.”

Harry looked affronted. “I think I can do better than that on a date, Malfoy. In fact, I think I can come up with a date that would impress you.”

“Oh, you think so?”

“Yes, I think so,” Harry said in a snooty-sounding voice, a grin on his face.

Draco raised a brow. “Was that supposed to be me, Potter? Hopefully you’re better at planning dates than doing impersonations.”

“Try me.”

I’d like to. “Fine, let me have it, then.”

Harry studied Draco quietly for a moment. “A picnic.”

The blond smirked. “Is that all you’ve—”

“A nighttime picnic, under the stars. I’d set up a blanket in a quiet field in Southern France.”

Draco’s smile slowly faded.

“We’d be surrounded by the scent of lavender, and we’d kick off our shoes to feel the soft grass under our toes.” Harry’s voice had gone low, and he leaned into Draco’s space. Draco suddenly found it difficult to breathe.

“You’d be so beautiful with the moonlight on your skin, I would have to kiss you, and touch you. We’d have champagne and feed each other strawberries and those ridiculously expensive Swiss chocolates that you love. And then I’d kiss each of your fingertips clean and wrap you in my arms while you drifted off to sleep until I woke you to watch the sunrise with me.”

Harry’s lips were so close, and Draco felt himself being pulled in. So close…Abruptly, the other man flopped back into his chair, causing Draco to blink rapidly in surprise.

“So what do you think? Good enough?”

Draco nodded shakily. “Y-yes, I suppose so. Just barely. Of course,” he continued, his breathing beginning to even, “that won’t work for a first date.”

Harry frowned. “Why not?”

Draco shook his head slightly. “You know why. You would never go through that much trouble for a first date with me, Potter.”

Harry rested his folded arms on the table and leaned in again, just a bit this time. “Who says? After waiting so long for you, I’d want to make damn sure you agreed to go out with me again.”

He stared in surprise at Harry’s serious expression. The front bell jingled, saving him from replying. “Customer,” he muttered instead.

“I should be going, anyway, now that you have the sample bases. How about if I stop by your flat tomorrow? You can brief me on whatever history you’ve made up for us.”

Draco paused in the dividing doorway, trying to look less affected than he was. “Whatever, Potter. I’ll be around.”


*


“You should have seen his face!” Harry choked out between laughs. “He was standing there with egg sliding down his uniform, and he was making these noises…”

Harry started trying to imitate the sounds, and Draco clasped a hand over his mouth to stifle his own chuckles. “You sound like a drowning cat!” he snickered between his fingers.

“So did he!” Harry wiped at the tears streaming down his face and took another sip of his second beer. He’d come over straight from work, and they were on the sofa in Draco’s living room chatting as they had during the last several days when he’d stopped by the potions lab during his lunch hour. Draco was turned toward him, leaning against the arm with his legs pulled up.

“Do you think he’ll figure out it was your men?” Draco asked, taking a sip of his third glass of wine.

“Nah, and even if he did, it wouldn’t be so bad. Kingsley knows Carter’s an arse.”

Draco nodded. “Would you hand me that?” He pointed with his glass to a blanket over the back of a nearby chair.

“Cold?”

“Just my feet.”

Harry lifted his thigh and settled it atop Draco’s stocking feet where they rested on the sofa cushion. “Better?”

Harry watched Draco take another quick drink from his glass, and wondered if the man was nervous.

“Yes. Thank you.”

“So you’ve heard all about my day, what about yours?” Harry drained his lager bottle and rested it carefully on the floor at his feet.

Draco shrugged. “Not much to tell. I added the samples to the bases and ruled one out. The others will need longer to develop. The shop was technically closed, so no customers.”

“So what do you do all by yourself, Malfoy? Dance around in your pants?” Harry grinned.

The corners of Draco’s mouth turned up in a tiny smile. “You wish, Potter. Mostly I catch up on the latest potions research. Sometimes Pansy visits and I have to pretend to listen to whatever horrible/wonderful thing that her husband did recently. Or about her latest shopping excursion.”

“I know how you feel. It’s like the moment I came out to Gin I gave her permission to ask me about clothes and…and bloody throw pillows.” Harry pulled a face, and Draco actually laughed.

“She should know better, Potter. Gay or not, you have no taste.”

Harry rested his hand on Draco’s shin, feeling the blond’s heat seeping through the cotton trousers he wore. “Now, how can you say that? You haven’t tasted me yet.” He waggled his brows in a dramatically lecherous fashion.

Draco’s face went pink and he drained his glass. Harry frowned and wondered if he was completely misreading the man’s interest.

“Well, it’s late. I should really be going.” Harry stood, surprised to realize that several hours had passed. “We really didn’t talk about the plan for Tuesday, did we?”

Draco looked surprised, and then smirked as he followed. “No, I suppose we didn’t. Are you free tomorrow? We also need to discuss a few last-minute details for Mother’s visit on Tuesday.”

Harry nodded. He was supposed to go out with some fellow Aurors, but he’d make his excuses. “All of my paperwork is caught up now, so I’ll leave earlier tomorrow. Would you like to have dinner first?” Harry asked, waiting next to the door for Draco to drop his customized locking spells.

Draco seemed to hesitate, fiddling with his wand. “Why don’t you come directly here? I’ll make something.”

“That sounds great.” Harry smiled and, without thinking, brushed back a strand of hair that had fallen into Draco’s face. Draco gasped softly, his dove grey eyes going wide and vulnerable as Harry watched.

Slowly, holding his breath, Harry leaned in. His mind flashed to the week before, and he wondered if Draco was only planning to let him close enough to hex him. Agonizingly slowly, he lowered his mouth until their lips touched.

Draco’s eyes slid closed, the warm breath of his sigh filling Harry’s mouth. The lips beneath Harry’s own were amazingly soft, hot and moist and clinging deliciously to his in the most perfect way. Harry slid the tip of his tongue carefully along the plump bottom lip, and then swallowed Draco’s soft moan.

His own response seemed to jolt Draco back to reality, and he jerked away, suddenly ending the best kiss of Harry’s life.

“You need to leave,” Draco panted.

Harry stepped through the doorway and turned back. “Draco, I’m sorry –”

Draco went even paler, and his lips pressed into a thin line. “Yes, well. Perhaps you should learn to keep your hands to yourself, then,” he said coldly as he closed the door in Harry’s face.


*


Draco leaned against the door and bit his lip to quell its trembling. Of course Harry was sorry. He’d kissed Draco. Harry Potter, the hero, the saviour of wizardingkind, had kissed Draco Malfoy, the villain, the ex-death eater from a disgraced line. Obviously Harry saw it as a mistake. Had Draco really expected anything different? How in the world had he so easily forgotten his resolution not to like the man in any capacity? Shaking his head and silently calling himself ten kinds of idiot, Draco headed to his room to prepare for bed.


*


Draco spent the next day working with the samples from the Aurors and waiting on customers, wondering if Harry would actually show up for dinner, since he hadn’t come by at lunch. He’d also been feeling guilty, which made him cranky.

He had to admit that it wasn’t Harry’s fault that he was who he was and that Draco was who Draco was and that nothing between them would ever work. It wasn’t even Harry’s fault that he would clearly regret anything between them. But accepting these things just put Draco in a worse mood, which made him angry all over again. It was a vicious cycle.

Closing up several hours early, he left a brief apology note in the window and headed home to start dinner, just in case. He’d learned to cook after moving away from home, and had been surprised to find that he enjoyed it. The rhythm and precision were familiar, and calmed him in the same way that brewing a difficult potion did.

He was dicing peppers when he heard the pop of apparition nearby, and was glad he’d remembered the night before to allow Harry through his wards. Neither of them needed a reminder of the scene by the door.

“Hi,” Harry said softly from the kitchen doorway.

Draco glanced up. “Hello. Make yourself at home. Dinner is almost ready; these go in just a few minutes before it’s ready to serve.”

Harry nodded as he shucked his outer robes, leaving him in his black work trousers and polo-neck. “Smells really good,” he said as he slid onto a stool.

Draco nodded his thanks and levitated the top from the pot to pour in the peppers. The room was silent as he stirred the chicken cacciatore and transferred it onto a platter.

“Look,” Harry said suddenly, “I just wanted to say that I didn’t mean to upset you last night.”

Draco tensed for a moment, and then shook his head. “Don’t worry about it.” He lifted the platter and handed it to Harry. “Let’s eat.”


*


They moved to the table, and Harry placed the food in the center and then took a seat next to Draco.

“I will say, Potter, that last night did bring up an important point,” Draco commented as he waited for Harry to serve himself first. “Mother will undoubtedly expect us to show some mild affection toward one another. Though I am certain that hand-holding, and perhaps a kiss on the cheek should suffice.”

“Oh, really?” Harry asked, disappointed. He’d been hoping for a chance to kiss the blond again. Before he’d been so appalled, he’d definitely been responsive. Harry was sure that he could convince Draco to give him a chance, if only they could do more of that.

Draco’s face took on a pinched look that reminded Harry of the grumpy boy from Hogwarts. “Do try to control yourself, Potter.”

Harry flushed. Or maybe not…apparently the idea of doing more of that with Harry was as repulsive to Draco as it had suddenly been the night before.

During dinner they created and memorized their imaginary dating history, as well as going over any additional details they should know about each other but hadn’t yet discussed. After dinner, Harry was ready to move into the living room while Draco was clearing the table, when the other man handed him his robes. Surprised, he took them.

“Well, Potter, I’m sure you’re eager to be going. Remember, tomorrow, three o’clock. Don’t be late.” He turned his back on Harry and continued to make the area as meticulously clean as it had been before.

Harry’s gut sank with disappointment. He’d been anticipating an evening like that last all day long, easy conversation and enjoying Draco’s company. Apparently they were taking two steps back again. “Well then,” Harry said uncertainly, “thanks for dinner.”

“You’re welcome. Goodbye, Potter,” Draco said firmly without turning around.

Dragging his feet, Harry left.


*


Draco had finished straightening up and was about to leave the kitchen when Pansy popped in – literally.

She plunked her hands on her hips and scowled at him. “What did you do to Potter?”

Offended, Draco drew himself up. “Who says I did anything to him?”

“I do. Adrian told me Saturday night that Alex said that Ginevra said that Granger told her that Potter was actually excited to spend time with you.”

Draco snorted, even as his pulse leapt a bit. “Well, that’s certainly reliable.”

Pansy gave him two fingers. “The point is, Adrian and I were having a drink at that place you and I went to, and Potter just came in to meet his Auror club looking like his best friend died. And I know that isn’t it, because Weasley was there. So I ask again, what did you do to him?”

“I didn’t do anything to him, Pansy, except perhaps call him on his stupid little games.”

“And what games are those?”

Draco grunted and crossed his arms. “He’s not interested, Pansy. I mean, he’s…him, and I’m me. He just keeps pushing my buttons to see if he can make me respond. Like I said, stupid games. And I’m not stupid enough to fall for them.”

“So he has made a move!” Pansy crowed.

Draco huffed. “He isn’t in earnest, Pansy! Were you even listening?”

She shook her head. “Let me guess, each time Potter has tried to get close to you, you have immediately figured out his dastardly motives and protected yourself.”

Draco blinked. “Of course. No one mortifies a Malfoy. I’m sure it came as a surprise to him that he couldn’t fool me into thinking he was genuinely interested, but I must grant that the man is oddly persistent.”

Pansy looked at him sadly. “Oh, Draco.”

“What?”

She reached out and clasped his hand. “I don’t think there’s anything that I can tell you that you’ll believe. But promise me something?”

Puzzled, Draco nodded.

“Promise me that you’ll at least be open to the possibility that Potter could be interested. Next time he makes a pass, even a small one, just talk to him instead of reacting.”

“Pansy…”

“You said you promised!”

“Fine,” he sighed. “I promise.”


*


“How exciting your profession must be, Mr. Potter,” Narcissa said warmly as he passed her the plate of sandwiches. “You must have many interesting stories to share.”

Draco took a sip of his tea, trying to relax. It was difficult with a gorgeous man – no, the bane of his existence – pressed against him from shoulder to thigh as they shared a small settee. He’d fully expected Harry to show up in denims and a vest, since Draco hadn’t actually helped him pick his clothing. But no, the idiot had to be dressed to the nines in silver-blue robes that were perfect for his coloring. Not to mention, gods, how good he smelled. Just like his everyday smell, but…more. Like leather and damp earth and something spicy and entirely mouth-watering…

“To own the truth, Mrs. Malfoy, my job mostly consists of filling out paperwork. The highlight of my days is getting to spend time with Draco,” Harry answered quietly.

Draco flushed. His protective instincts were shouting at him to roll his eyes and say something cutting, but they were being drowned out by both the need to convince his mum that they were in love, and his promise to Pansy to show Potter some slight encouragement. With a small, halting smile he slowly reached out and threaded his fingers through Harry’s. The brunet looked shocked, but pleased. Fortunately, Narcissa was too misty-eyed to notice.

“Oh, what a lovely sentiment!” she sighed. “Draco dearest, have you considered what you might do once the two of you…well, should you make your arrangement quite permanent? With your business, I mean, of course.” She took a sip of tea and watched him expectantly.

Draco was momentarily distracted by the hand Harry had rested lightly on his thigh beneath the table, the heat scorching through his robes and thin trousers until his flesh was tingling so that it might as well have been touching bare skin. He forcefully pushed away a fairly graphic fantasy of feeling those tingles everywhere.

“I plan to continue working, Mother. Even if…something were to change, I enjoy what I do,” he responded calmly, draining his own cup.

“Oh but surely Mr. Potter would rather you be home, Draco, in order to attend to his needs,” his mother insisted gently.

Harry shook his head. “I would rather Draco do what makes him happy.”

Draco glanced at him in surprise. “Really?”

“Really. I also happen to enjoy attending to your needs, so I think that works both ways,” Harry said quietly, stroking his broad thumb over Draco’s slender one repeatedly in a soothing manner, and Draco was stuck by the honesty in his expression. He knew from experience the man wasn’t that good an actor.

Narcissa sighed dreamily. “Well, I suppose the two of you will do what makes you happy.” She began to chatter to Harry about something she’d read in the Prophet, and Draco tuned out. Harry’s thumb was still caressing his, and it was growing increasingly less comforting and more erotic. As the pad teased the very tip of Draco’s thumb the way it might his slit, Draco gasped and pressed his face slightly into Harry’s upper arm.

His mother paused in her storytelling. “Draco? Are you quite alright?”

Straightening his posture, Draco managed to give her a small smile and a nod. “Fine, Mum.”

Satisfied, Narcissa launched back into her tale.

Gently disentangling his hand, Draco boldly slid it over Harry’s thigh, the way Harry’s free hand was still resting on his. Pretending to turn his attention back to his mother, he allowed his fingertips to stoke swirling patterns onto the firm surface, climbing higher and higher as they crept increasingly inward.

He could see the ripple of Harry’s gulp along his throat, the subtle change in Harry’s pulse, beating in the side of his neck, and Draco imagined pressing his lips there, nibbling, sucking, making Harry feel as overwhelmed and desperately helpless as he made Draco…

“Wouldn’t you agree, Draco?” his mother asked.

Draco jerked his head up, color sweeping over his face as he realized he’d practically had it buried in Potter’s neck. He cleared his throat. “What was that, Mother?”

Narcissa smiled. “Oh my, Mr. Potter, you seem to have my son quite enchanted.”

Next to him, Harry chuckled. He grabbed and lifted Draco’s wandering hand above the tea table and squeezed it gently. To his mother, it looked affectionate, but Draco knew it was a plea. “The feeling is mutual, Mrs. Malfoy.” Before Draco could blink, Harry had lifted Draco’s hand to his mouth and pressed a hot kiss against his palm. The blond’s breath hitched as he felt the tip of the other man’s tongue touch the sensitive skin there.

“Perhaps I am a bit old-fashioned, but in my day one kissed their betrothed on the mouth. Is hand-kissing the new fashion?” Draco’s mother asked with amusement.

Draco held his breath, glancing quickly at Harry and then back to Nacissa. “Mother…”

“You are correct, Mrs. Malfoy,” Harry said politely, wrapping his arm around Draco’s shoulders. With his other hand Harry cupped his face, and Draco held his breath.

“Potter…” He’d meant the murmur to sound threatening, a warning that they should cease this nonsense immediately. Instead, pathetically, it had just sounded husky and inviting. Damn Pansy and her meddling.

Harry leaned in and pressed his lips lightly to Draco’s. The kiss was gentle, only giving a little and taking nothing before Harry pulled away. Unable to stop himself, Draco hummed softly with contentment.

“Well, I do believe I’ve become the spare wheel on the cart,” Narcissa said pleasantly, as she stood to collect her things.

Jerking away from Harry and glaring at the man behind his mother’s back, Draco stood. “You needn’t go so early…”

Narcissa patted his hand. “I’ll visit again soon, love.” She smiled at Harry and leaned in closer. “I believe your beau is in an amorous mood, my Dragon,” she added in a whisper. “You should be alone.” With a final wave, she departed.

Draco glanced at Harry, and then at the ground. “Well.”

Harry stood and moved closer to him. “Is something wrong? She left so quickly.”

Draco smirked and shook his head. “She wanted to make herself scarce. She thought you were in an, ‘amorous mood,’” he relayed, using air quotes.

Harry’s smile was predatory as he gently latched onto Draco’s arm and tugged the man closer to him. “Perceptive woman, your mother.”

Draco gaped inelegantly. “You…you did your bit, Potter. It’s over. We’re alone. There’s nobody here to see us,” he babbled, chanting his promise to Pansy over and over in his mind to avoid freezing the man out.

“Mmm, excellent. I’d prefer not to have an audience for what I’m about to do to you.” He wrapped an arm around Draco’s waist.

“Wait…wait, Harry, I…I don’t understand,” Draco said breathlessly.

Harry paused, stroking his palm over Draco’s silky crown. “What’s to understand? I want you, Draco.”

“You want to have sex with me,” Draco clarified.

“No! I mean, yes, I do, of course I do,” Harry laughed. “But I want you. Merlin, I want…I want us to be together. Together together,” Harry added, his gaze intent on Draco’s.

“That’s what I don’t understand!” Draco burst out, startling Harry back several steps. He crossed his arms and blinked rapidly. “You could have anyone.”

Harry tilted his head to the side and studied the way Draco pulled himself in and wouldn’t meet his eyes again. Slowly, he moved forward again and placed his hands on Draco’s slim shoulders. “I’d like to strangle Zabini with my bare hands,” he muttered against Draco’s temple.

“Why?” Draco asked dully.

Harry sighed. “Because he’s a stupid arse.” He slid his fingers beneath Draco’s chin and lifted his head until their eyes did meet. “Sadly, you’re probably right that my name could win me nearly anyone I wanted.”

Draco tried to pull away, but Harry’s grip was firm enough to keep him in place, while still tender. How, oh how had he exposed himself? He’d been so careful to show nothing but resentment or polite irritation. He’d refused to even acknowledge to himself how much he wanted this man. But somehow he’d still been found out, would be humiliated, rejected…

Harry’s lips grazed the shell of his ear. “Why wouldn’t I want the best?”

Dizzily, Draco wondered if it was possible to go right on living after one’s heart had stopped.

“Why wouldn’t I want the most gorgeous, the most intelligent, the bravest?” he whispered, his hot breath caressing Draco’s skin and making him shiver. Harry’s lips brushed sweetly over his forehead.

“You’re absolutely mad,” he whispered hoarsely.

“So beautiful, Draco.” Harry pressed a kiss to each of the blond’s eyelids as his eyes fluttered closed. “So brilliant.”

“But…but I’m not…” he gasped softly as Harry kissed the tip of his nose.

“You lied to a woman who would have killed you without thought to save me, Draco,” Harry whispered, placing a tiny kiss on Draco’s upper lip. “To save everyone. So brave.”

Embarrassingly, Draco whimpered.

“I’ve wanted you since New Year’s Eve, Draco.” Harry flicked the tip of his tongue against the dimple in Draco’s chin and then kissed the spot. “Do you want me?”

This was it. This was his chance to end this insanity and walk away. Did he want to? Did he want to walk away from this man, so much a part of his past, without knowing if they could have a future? Without at least knowing the feeling of being covered and filled and surrounded by him? Could he sacrifice this just for the sake of his pride, even if it was a game?

“No,” he whispered to himself as warm lips began to slide toward his throat.

Harry froze. “N-no?”

Draco’s brain, saturated with pleasure, was sluggish to respond to the fact that Harry was pulling away. As his eyes slowly blinked open, he realized what Harry had heard and his mind was instantly quieted by the look of embarrassment and disappointment on the man’s face.

“Yes,” Draco corrected, wrapping his arms around Harry’s neck and pulling him back in. “Yes, I want you.”


*


Harry slumped slightly with relief. Knowing for certain how Draco felt, he couldn’t wait for one more moment to taste those sinfully delicious pink lips again. He brought their mouths together with a force that tilted the blond’s head back, leaving his neck vulnerable to Harry’s stroking fingertips. He lightly caressed the soft skin there as he pulled Draco’s bottom lip into his mouth, sucking the tender flesh and making it even fuller than normal. Harry felt nimble fingers brush over his nape and slide into his hair, and Draco’s mouth opened slightly with his low moan, affording Harry the chance to deepen the kiss.

He slid his tongue against Draco’s, hot and wet, tasting the spicy oolong and the creamy milk and the touch of sweetness from the cake Draco had eaten. He reverently touched each of Draco’s perfect teeth with the tip, before bringing his tongue back to stroke, and circle and tease Draco’s own until the blond made that incredible whimper that Harry loved so and pressed his body firmly against Harry’s own.

Draco broke away, panting, his face suffused with pink. “Want you,” he mumbled quietly, nuzzling against Harry’s neck.

“I want you too, so much.” Harry’s voice was strained, and his fingers shook as he began working the fastenings of Draco’s robes. He felt, more than heard, Draco’s chuckle where their torsos were touching.

“You are helpless,” he murmured, stepping back and drawing his wand. Harry watched, anticipating his first view of Draco’s body, but Draco paused nervously.

“I have to tell you something, Potter. Promise you won’t be angry.”

Harry’s heart went cold with apprehension. “What is it?”

Draco started to bite his abused lip, winced, and licked it instead, and Harry’s cock, still fully at attention, twitched.

“I may have…been less than entirely honest with you.”

“You lied to me?” Harry was stung.

“Not about anything significant! It’s only…well…” Draco smirked slightly and waved his wand, sending his clothing sliding to the floor and leaving him in only a midnight blue satin g-string, the head of his pink cock peeping over the waistband.

Harry’s eyes went wide, and then he slowly grinned. He advanced on Draco again. “You naughty thing!” he teased against Draco’s ear. He slid his large, rough palms down the silky skin of Draco’s smooth back to cup the pale, tight arse. “Fuck, this is perfect.”

Draco’s wand fell to the rug with a soft sound, but it was inaudible over Draco’s moan as he rocked his body forward into Harry’s, and then backward to press his arse more firmly into his hands, as if he couldn’t decide which touch he enjoyed the most. Harry kissed him again, briefly and tenderly, before trailing more hot, open-mouthed kisses down his neck to his chest.

“Off,” Draco grunted, pulling at the fabric of Harry’s robes. “Skin.”

Harry grinned shakily, ridiculously proud that he could reduce such an articulate man to single-word utterances with his touch. He quickly shed his robes and the cotton vest he wore underneath, then pulled Draco back against him. He hissed with pleasure as hot, bare skin met hot, bare skin.

Draco’s hands slid around to Harry’s arse, cupping and squeezing through the lightweight trousers and causing Harry to bury his face against the blond’s throat with a lusty groan. Agile fingers moved to his fly, hastily unbuckling his belt and unfastening the buttons. Draco slipped his hand into Harry’s trousers, beneath his black cotton briefs, and wrapped Harry’s cock in a strong fist. The brunet arched onto his toes with a shout when Draco squeezed him.

“I said off, Potter,” Malfoy mumbled as he pressed a kiss into the hollow at the base of Harry’s throat.

Harry complied, wriggling out of his trousers and briefs, keening softly but steadily as Draco maintained his grip. As soon as Harry was naked, Draco dropped to his knees before him and leaned forward, running the tip of his tongue from the base to the head of Harry’s cock.

Squeezing his eyes closed and moaning, Harry threaded his fingers into Draco’s soft hair as Draco dipped the tip of his tongue into Harry’s slit to collect the fresh drop of pre-cum there.

Draco caught Harry’s hips in his hands as Harry bucked them and whimpered. “Look at me, Harry,” he whispered. He waited until Harry had managed to pry his eyes open and locked gazes with him. Without looking away, Draco slowly slid Harry’s cock into his mouth.

Harry thought he could come just from watching the wide, innocent look in those grey eyes as Draco swirled his tongue around Harry’s cock and sucked. His face was positively angelic, but his mouth was all sweet sin as he worked it up and down, stroking the underside of Harry’s cockhead with his tongue, teasing the foreskin with fleeting dips, pressing the hardness against the satiny roof of his mouth.

“Stop,” Harry panted, tugging at Draco’s hair gently. “You have to stop, I can’t last.”

Draco pulled away, licking his lips, and smirked. “Oh? Was there something else that you wanted to do?” he asked as he stood.

Harry devoured that sassy mouth, taking Draco by surprise and feeling him gasp around Harry’s invading tongue. The kiss was deep, and hungry, and Harry hoisted Draco up and let the man wrap his legs around Harry’s waist as if he couldn’t get close enough. Harry grasped Draco’s bare arse again to support him, and the blond tore his mouth away with a desperate, keening sound.

“Bedroom,” he pleaded. “Now.”

“Yes. Where?”

“Hall. Second. Left.”

Their lips came back together, and Harry held Draco up with one arm as he used the other hand to navigate and avoid running them into a wall. His fingertips scrabbled along as he walked slowly down the hallway, intent on tasting his lover as deeply as he was being tasted. When he felt the moulding of the second doorway on the left, he guided them through eagerly and gently dropped Draco onto the large bed, abruptly breaking the kiss.

Draco turned and crawled up the mattress, giving Harry an amazing view of his bollocks, arse and the small, pink hole only partially covered by the satin string laying lightly along the crease. A primal surge swept through him and he lunged.

He caught Draco around the thighs. As the other man yelped, Harry hooked his elbows around each one, pulled Draco’s legs further apart, and buried his face between Draco’s arsecheeks in one motion.

Harry dropped hot, wet, slurping kisses in a line from Draco’s perineum to the small of his back, tonguing the string of his panties out of the way. He took care to brush his tongue over the soft skin of Draco’s entrance as much as possible, turning the man into a writhing, sobbing mess by the time Harry returned with intent and began to lap slowly, steadily at Draco’s pucker.

“No…no…” Draco howled, even as he thrust his arse closer to Harry’s face. “I can’t…please…need…” He tosses his head fitfully on the pillows, whimpering.

Harry pulled back, swiping the back of his hand over his chin before gently turning the blond onto his back. “Lube?” he asked gruffly, but his hands were tender as they slid the knickers down and off.

“Drawer.” Draco was panting, and Harry was shocked when he reached up and captured Harry’s head in his hands to bring their mouths together as Harry leaned over him to fetch the item.

Harry blindly sought the bottle while accepting Draco’s tiny, fluttering kisses, interrupted by his continued need for more oxygen and changes in angle. Bringing it against his abdomen, he managed to snap open the lid and squeeze some of the viscous gel onto his fingers one-handed. The bottle fell to the floor, the smacking sound startling both men apart.

Harry rubbed the lube around on his fingers, holding Draco’s gaze, silently asking permission.

Draco rolled his hips and pulled his legs up and open with his hands beneath his knees. With a shaky breath, Harry turned his head and kissed the arch of Draco’s left foot, running his index finger up Draco’s crack to his hole. Gently and carefully, he pressed inward.

Draco’s back bowed with a soft moan as his body sucked Harry’s finger in. Harry quickly added another, cautiously watching Draco’s face for signs of discomfort. He saw nothing but the same peace and bliss he was feeling as he began to scissor his fingers and stretch Draco’s tight passage.

Harry leaned forward and teased one of Draco’s nipples with his lips and tongue as his fingers continued to move in a steady rhythm. Separating them as much as possible, he slid a third finger in between them and stilled his hand until Draco pressed Harry’s mouth closer to his nipple with his hands tangled in the dark hair at the back of Harry’s head and began to fuck himself on the fingers filling his arse.

“Are you ready, baby?” Harry husked into his ear.

“Yes, Harry…” Draco whimpered. “Harry…fill me, please!”

Slowly removing his fingers, Harry slicked his cock with the gel still clinging to his palm. Pressing the tip of his cock against Draco’s stretched hole, he languorously rolled his hips and breached the blond’s body.

Draco’s silky passage gripped Harry’s cock greedily, swallowing it eagerly with only the slightest pressure. He groaned with pleasure as Harry leaned forward with a whimper.

“Knew you were a hungry bottom,” Harry rasped, sliding forward centimeter by centimeter. In response, Draco tilted and lifted his hips, quickly taking in the last of Harry’s cock so that his bum came to rest against Harry’s soft sac.

Harry shouted with surprise and buried his face against Draco’s shoulder. Draco released his legs with a long, low moan and wrapped them around Harry’s torso, then looped his arms around Harry’s neck and pressed the man against him. Several seconds went by as they relished the feeling of being connected.

“Move,” Draco finally whispered. “Damn you, Harry, move.”

Harry’s hips tilted back minutely before pressing forward again. Without moving his head from its comfortable resting place on Draco’s shoulders, he began to drag out and push in with agonizing slowness, keeping to the shallow thrusts that the clutching of Draco’s legs allowed.

“Mmm…” Draco sighed deeply, his lashes fluttering. “More.”

Lifting himself off of Draco, Harry reached back and took one of the blond’s ankles in each hand. He stretched the long legs out as widely as his arms could reach, and then began to gradually work his hips with more speed. Soon, he was plunging deeply over and over with abandon.

“Fuck yes!” Draco yelled, arching and twisting his fingers into the pillowcase on either side of his head. He was doing his best to meet Harry’s thrusts. “Harder, harder, harder!” He chanted breathlessly.

Pausing, Harry carefully re-angled his hips and moved closer to shorten his thrusts. His hips snapped forward with as much force as he could muster, jamming the plump head of his cock hard over Draco’s prostate.

Draco cried out, the startled noise ending on a pleasured sob as he scraped his nails against the sheet beneath him. Harry fucked him with short, powerful thrusts that shook the headboard and made his feet bounce in Harry’s hands. It felt like mere seconds before Harry was on the precipice.

“Come…come for me Draco,” Harry begged, grasping at the gossamer threads of his self-control. He needed to see Draco fall apart beneath him.

“Almost…yes…so close…” Draco panted and moaned, his eyes rolling back beneath his spasming eyelids. Harry plunged with a slight twist of his hips, and Draco arched sharply with a cry, his eyes screwing closed and his mouth in a frozen, gasping, open position as he suddenly spilled himself over the leanly corded muscles of his abdomen.

Watching the amazingly beautiful contortions of Draco’s face, feeling the channel around his cock contract and squeeze with desperation, Harry pitched forward slightly with a long, low groan and filled Draco with his release.

Long minutes ticked by as Harry lay pressed against Draco, both completely spent and gulping breath noisily through their mouths, Draco’s come sticky between their bellies.

“Fuck…” Harry finally managed. “That was so fucking…”

“Spectacular,” Draco supplied in an awed voice.

Harry chuckled, turning his head and pressing a kiss to the side of Draco’s neck. “To put it mildly.”

Draco turned to look down at him and blushed, and Harry lifted a hand lazily to caress his cheek. “Do you have to…I mean, do you need to go right away?”

Harry levered up onto one elbow and placed a sweet kiss on Draco’s lips. “I don’t need to go at all. There’s nowhere I’d rather be than here. I thought we might kip for a bit, and then I’ll take you out to dinner.”

Draco smiled brilliantly. “I know of a lovely lavender field in Provence.”

Harry snuggled up against him and pulled the covers over them both, wrapping his arms around Draco. “That sounds perfect.”

Draco ran a fingertip along Harry’s collarbone. “Harry?” he asked hesitantly.

“Yes?”

“I’m probably going to ask you why you want to be with me again. Maybe a lot.”

“Good.” Harry settled his forehead against Draco’s and sighed with contentment.

“Good?” Draco asked, confused.

“Yup. There will be a new why every day, and if you ask me I won’t forget to tell you all of the reasons I’m crazy about you.”

“Oh.” Draco bit his lip against a smile, and Harry grinned, leaning in to kiss him softly again.

They lay quietly for several minutes, their breathing becoming synchronized, Harry’s palm stroking Draco’s back and the blond’s face nuzzled affectionately against Harry’s throat. Suddenly, Harry felt Draco begin to laugh silently.

“What is it?” he asked with a bemused smile.

“I was just thinking I should send the pensieve memory of what we just did to Blaise. After all, if it wasn’t for him we might not be here now. Plus, it would kill him to know how much bigger you are.”

Harry snorted and shook his head slightly with amusement, though his cock pulsed pleasantly at the compliment. “Planning to rub his face in our good fortune?”

“Absolutely,” Draco said, stroking a warm hand down Harry’s flank and causing the brunet to shiver. “Maybe next time he’ll think before he cheats.”


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