Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or Queer As Folk, those rights belong to J.K. Rowling and Showtime, respectively. I just like to take their toys and do inappropriate things with them.

A/N: Here's chapter four. Since I'm done with exchange fics, I think the updates for this story will be a bit more regular. I've been written with the fanfic bug, lol, and my muse has kicked into high gear. I've taken a bit of artistic license here, with Brian Kinney (who is played by the georgous Gale Howard). I'm not entirely sure what Gale's eye color is (I think they are brown), but I had to have Draco make the connection somehow.

Please please please review! I love them, they are like crack to me, and I try to respond to everything.

A/N 2: I normally have a beta on retainer, but her internet is down at the moment. I went over this, but if you find any mistakes, they are entirely my fault. Please let me know!

Harry pressed the "end" button on the cordless phone Justin had provided him with and sighed in relief. He had never been fond of telephone conversations, although he was glad of his muggle upbringing for once. He suppressed a laugh as he imagined Ron trying to cancel hotel reservations via the "felly-tone". He held the receiver lightly in his hand as he decided to familiarize himself with his surroundings.

The house was a large, rambling split-level affair with a stair case in the front foyer that lead upstairs to what Harry assumed were the bedrooms. Beyond the entryway was a large, airy living room with squashy leather couches spread out, surrounding the fireplace, which was the focal point of the room. There was a large television, also, and a stereo system, both with a thin layer of dust on them, as if they didn't get much use, although the stereo was turned on at the moment. There was a classical piece coming out of the speakers that Harry didn't recognize.

A little further exploration let Harry into the kitchen and dining room, where he found Justin sitting at a workstation in the corner, working on what looked like an electronic easel, painting what looked like a mountain scene.

"That's very nice." Harry stated, making Justin jump a bit and grinning at the surprise on the blond man's face. At first meeting, Harry had thought Justin cute, if a bit bashful, but the young man had grown on him as they had shared the cab ride to Brighton. Justin had quickly opened up, telling Harry a bit about the last few years he had been spent in New York, putting his work on display and living the life of an artist, before realizing how desperately homesick and lonely he had become. He had packed his bags, caught the first bus back to Pittsburgh and shown up at Brian's loft, which Harry understood to be a very large flat from Hermione before leaving, in the middle of the night, much to the older man's surprise, and after a quick explanation, happiness.

Apparently, Brian had been noble and stoic and all that shite about Justin going off to "find himself" and holed up in his loft when he wasn't at Kinnetik, his company, working himself ragged. They had decided to finally go through with their civil union, and buy Brighton together. Harry had sighed happily at the romance of it all when they reached the house, and Justin had given him a very brief tour of the house before handing him the cordless phone and telling him he needed to cancel those reservations before the hotel charged his friend's card anyway.

Harry watched patiently as Justin picked up his stylus again and added a few more details to his painting before saving the file and putting his tablet away. He then turned back towards Harry, still sitting on the stool, face level with Harry's crotch, looking up at him. Harry had to withhold a groan as he felt himself getting hard at the sight of the younger blond looking up at him innocently, a charming grin on his face. Harry backed up a few steps to put some space between them, and Justin chuckled in reply before asking,

"So, are you hungry?"

This is going to be a very interesting summer, Harry thought to himself as he nodded in reply. He couldn't help but wonder what Brian would be like.

Brian was in hell. He hated this shit. He really, really hated shit like this. Why, for fuck's sake, hadn't he just sent Teddy along to take care of this shit himself? He could be back at Brighton, fucking Justin. Not sitting in a stuffy boardroom in a stuffy office in a stuffy building, waiting on some stuffy Brit suit to look down his nose at him as he interrogated him on what his company actually did.

Because investors never seemed to know what the hell they were investing in. As a course of habit, Brian had shown up a good half hour early to prep for this particular meeting, as this particular investor was fond of punctuality, or so he had been informed. According to Teddy, had quite a bit of money that he could throw around, although no one seemed to know where it all came from. Brian wondered briefly if it was drugs or illegal arms, then decided he didn't really give a damn, so long as he could talk this particular suit into backing him.

Brian looked up curiously as the door to the conference room he had reserved slowly creaked open, wondering if this investor was going to be another crotchety old creep or another greenhorn who stumbled over his words. Brian was pleasantly surprised when a blond man, about six feet tall with pale blond hair and an angular face, dressed in a charcoal grey business suit entered the room.

The man, a Mr. Malfoy, Brian reminded himself, set his briefcase down on the table, and Brian glanced over it appraisingly, noticing that it was made of a shiny black leather, and polished to a high shine, a gold name plate with the name "Draco Malfoy" engraved on it attached to the clasp. This man was money, and he knew it.

"Mr. Kinney, it's a pleasure to finally meet you." Malfoy stated in a clipped British accent as he held his hand out for Brian. Brian had the brief hysterical thought that he should kneel and kiss the man's knuckles, but before he could collapse in hysterical laughter, he simply smiled and shook Malfoy's hand firmly, replying,

"As it is to meet you, Mr. Malfoy. Shall we get down to business? I'm sure you've better things to do with your time."

Brian noticed that Malfoy smirked a bit as he sat down, as if he had been reading Brian's thoughts, but that was impossible. Brian wondered briefly if one of his facial expressions had given him away, before shrugging it off and pulling his proposal out of his own briefcase and settled in to convince Malfoy that investing in Kinnetik was the best idea in the world.

Draco was in hell. He really, really hated shite like this. Why in Merlin's name hadn't he sent his family barrister, or Pansy, who did accounting and secretarial work for him, along to this meeting instead of coming himself?

Oh right, because he was a shallow bastard and he thought Brian Kinney was kind of hot, and wanted to look at the real thing in person. Draco could feel the stress headache forming behind his eyes as the receptionist waved him toward a set of lifts when he gave her his name. He pressed the button of the floor he needed, noting wryly that it was the top one. Oh yes, Kinney had gone out of his way to impress him. Of course, the man was probably looking forward to meeting some crotchety old goat, such as his father, or some naïve twerp who couldn't get his head out of his arse long enough to learn his job.

Draco also had to admit that he was starting to become curious about what Kinnetik actually did. After all, if he was going to invest his family's galleons in a venture, he would like to know that it was worth it. He finally got to the conference room, and sighed in relief when he noticed that Kinney was already there. If there was anything he hated, it was having to wait on someone.

As Draco opened the door and stepped inside, he heard a sharp intake of breath and had to catch his own. He had come eye to eye with Brian Kinney, and it surprised him at how familiar their particular shade of golden-brown was. He had seen those eyes before, but at the moment he couldn't quite place them. Draco was confident he had never met Kinney before, but he couldn't shake the feeling he had seen him somewhere, at some time.

Draco set his briefcase down onto the table with a clunk, ignoring the assessing gaze of the other man as he introduced himself and held out his hand. Kinney was thinking so loud it was impossible not to hear him, legilimins abilities notwithstanding, and Draco had to hold in the impolite snort at the mental picture Kinney supplied. Draco decided he would get along quite well with this man, once they got past the formalities of business. Gods, how he hated this tedious bullshite.