Double Tall Extra Hot Draco Malfoy With Whip, Please

"I'm going to take a shower," Ginny said. "Why don't you go down and get me one of those fancy coffee drinks? A double coffee frappy foamy chino thingy with lots of chocolate."

"A what?" Harry asked, somewhat distracted by the view outside their hotel room window.

"We are in Seattle, Harry, the coffee capital of the world, according to the brochures. When in Rome and all that. I saw the famous green logo downstairs. Run along."

Harry sighed, but he had learned long ago that it was better not to argue over trivial things. Ginny had a quick temper and she seemed to enjoy arguing until Harry gave in. He looked out the window at the Space Needle one last time and then obediently left the room and headed for the elevator.

They had taken a Portkey from New York City—after taking a Portkey from London—something Harry vowed never to do again. The trip had seemed endless and the resulting nausea had stayed with him for what felt like hours. The Westin Hotel was nice, though, for all that it was completely Muggle.

The line for coffee was quite long and Harry studied the menu on the wall in confusion. The profusion of drinks was overwhelming. Macchiato, Frappacino, Americano, etcetera. A nearby conversation shocked him out of his daze.

"Here you go, Draco. See you tomorrow."

Harry's head snapped toward the name and he was shocked to see a platinum-haired man accept a silver coffee mug from the girl behind the counter. The man waved at her absently and turned to leave. His eyes locked with Harry's, who saw his own disbelief mirrored there.

"Malfoy?" he asked.

The grey eyes moved on and the blond made his way briskly past Harry and out the door. Harry was frozen for only a moment and then he abandoned his place in line to hurry after the elusive man. He flung the door open and scanned the street only to find it devoid of anyone resembling Draco Malfoy. Shit, had he imagined the whole thing?

Harry returned to the coffee shop, mind whirling. Malfoy had disappeared completely after the war. His parents had never sent him back to Hogwarts and it wasn't long before the Malfoys deserted England completely for the Continent. They still owned Malfoy Manor, although as far as Harry knew it was vacant.

He repeated Ginny's words to the perky boy behind the counter, who managed to translate them into something hot and coffee-flavoured. Harry took the cup upstairs and set it on the counter before entering the bedroom suite to open his trunk. The shower still ran, so he felt safe to dig through his belongings until he pulled out a gleaming ebony box.

He set it on the bed and opened it before running his fingers over the smooth wand contained therein. The wand had taken up residence in his trunk several years ago and Harry had never bothered to remove it. He had always expected to see Malfoy again, had always intended to return the wand, but he wanted to do it in person. He wanted to thank Malfoy, or to apologize, or to do… something. He scowled and snapped the box shut. Fuck, why did everything always come back to Malfoy?

He had never expected it to take four years and he had not, in his wildest dreams, expected to see Draco Malfoy half a world away in a Muggle coffee shop.

It couldn't be him, Harry decided as he returned the wand case to his trunk. He had to have imagined the shocked expression on the man's face. He had most likely fled thinking Harry to be half-mad.

By the time Ginny exited the shower Harry had mostly convinced himself that he was mistaken. It was with barely a hint of disquiet that he escorted Ginny to breakfast at a local café. By noon he had almost forgotten the strange encounter.

The view of Puget Sound from their table at the waterfront restaurant was spectacular. Snow shone from the peaks of the faraway Olympic Mountains and the setting sun gleamed on the water. Harry had expected the weather to be similar to England—wet and rather cold, but so far they had encountered only bright blue skies and balmy temperatures. "This is typical for August," the locals had informed them. "You don't want to visit in February after six months of rain."

"We should move here," Ginny said dreamily. "It's so green and pretty."

Harry laughed and set down his beer—a microbrew, they called it. He had tasted a large number of them and found them quite flavoursome. "Yes, your mother would love that. She is already glowering at me for not having married you the instant the war ended. If we start living in sin in America I will never be able to show my face in England again."

"Living in sin?" Ginny perked up. "If we move here, can we do that? Would you actually sleep with me?"

Harry flushed and snatched his beer for another gulp. "It was a figure of speech," he muttered. For once, she let the subject drop.

"A vacation home, then. You can afford it and this would be an excellent place to get away from it all."

Harry shrugged. Ginny seemed perfectly willing to spend his money for him, a fact that may have contributed to his reluctance to place a ring on her finger. Of course, that did not explain his unwillingness to let their affection progress past heated kisses and a bit of groping. Harry always came to his senses before the point of no return. Ginny had no such qualms and their last few aborted encounters had ended in angry words and hurt feelings. He was glad she had always forgiven him after a few days of the silent treatment.

He had agreed to this vacation in part to alleviate his anxiety with a change iofscenery and a more relaxed atmosphere. He hoped the pressure of being the Defeater of Voldemort was the cause of his lack of interest. So far Seattle had been very romantic and Ginny had not pressed him beyond a few kisses.

"Great. I'll pick up one of those Homes for Sale magazines on the way out," she said.

To his relief, Ginny professed exhaustion from their many walks around the city and went straight to bed. Harry stayed up to flip through the television channels. An advertisement for men's cologne caught his attention, mostly due to the blond model. His thoughts returned to Malfoy and he wondered about the blond for the first time in… nearly a week. Truthfully, Malfoy's absence had left a strange hole in Harry's life. The war had robbed Harry of his every antagonist. Voldemort, of course, had been his primary focus, but he had found himself oddly missing the animosity of Severus Snape and the constant irritating presence of Draco Malfoy. His life was peaceful now, with his desk job in the Department of Magical Games and Sports and his friendly weekend Quidditch games with the Weasleys and his old friends.

Harry curled his lip and changed the channels randomly. Frankly, his life was boring the shit out of him. He thought he might go stark raving mad without some sort of challenge to occupy his time. He probably should have become an Auror, but after the war he was sick to death of worrying about surviving from day to day. Several professional Quidditch teams had wanted him, but he hated the idea of lending his famous name to any particular team. They would expect him to be a star simply because he was Harry Potter. The thought sickened him and he had finally talked Kingsley Shacklebolt into giving him a job in a lesser department. He was happy enough there—it was still related to Quidditch.

Harry got up and took a microbrew from the minibar before carrying it to the tiny balcony. He looked at the lights of the city and wondered where Draco Malfoy had gone.

Harry showered early and talked Ginny into accompanying him to the coffee shop the next morning. He purchased their drinks and they sat in the cozy chairs that adorned the place beneath fancy light globes of hand-blown glass. Harry stretched out his coffee consumption as long as possible, but to no avail. Not a single blond man walked through the doors, although Harry spotted a record number of red haired people. He wondered if Ginny had researched to find the ginger capital of the world, as well.

Finally the last dregs of his coffee were gone and Ginny's impatient drumming of fingers on the arm of her chair forced Harry to his feet. Apparently the mysterious Draco would not be in for his morning coffee. Quelling his disappointment, Harry allowed Ginny to drag him off for a shopping spree at Pike's Place Market, a local gathering place for artists and food vendors to hawk their wares.

They returned to the hotel after lunch, laden with purchases. Harry wondered if they really needed to buy t-shirts for every single person they knew, but Ginny had insisted. He was less uncertain about the massive quantities of local jam and honey products they had acquired for Molly Weasley. She would put them to good use, no doubt.

Harry hoped for a relaxing afternoon spent lounging at the hotel, but Ginny had a surprise for him.

"I called a realtor and we have an appointment to meet him at this cute condo on what they call Queen Anne Hill," she said and waved a colourful magazine page.

Harry groaned. "Ginny, really. I'm not in the market for property half a world from home."

"Oh, come on, Harry, it'll be fun. It will be good practice for when we get back home and start house shopping for real."

The thought filled Harry with a sense of panic and the prospect of looking for a flat in Seattle was suddenly not as gruesome. Perhaps he would purchase a condo, move in, and conveniently forget to return to London with Ginny… The traitorous idea made him feel immediately guilty and he quickly agreed to meet with the realtor as long as they could still make their dinner reservations at a local Thai restaurant.

The building was composed of reddish stone and lined with stately maple trees. A keypad allowed access to the building with an intercom system. Ginny pressed the proper numbers and a buzzer sounded when the door was remotely activated. A quick elevator ride took them to the top floor.

The door to the condominium was open and Ginny called, "Hello?"

"Do come in," a voice replied from somewhere inside. Harry was surprised to hear a clipped British accent. They entered a furnished room done all in glass and brass, a combination that made Harry shudder. The colour scheme did nothing to soften the coldness of the décor. Fuchsia seemed to predominate. The realtor entered from what looked to be a small kitchen, saying, "I left my card for the owners so they—"

His voice halted as abruptly as he did. Harry could scarcely believe his eyes.

"Malfoy?" he whispered. "It was you I saw yesterday."

"Potter," Malfoy replied dryly.

Harry waited expectantly, but the blond volunteered nothing. Ginny had wandered away to examine the rest of the flat, so Harry was left to deal with the ensuing awkward silence alone. Before he found his tongue, he allowed his eyes to trail over his old nemesis. Four years had done wonders for Draco Malfoy.

The dove grey Muggle suit fit him to perfection. He was taller than Harry remembered and his hair was cut in a softer, more approachable style. Malfoy's pointy features had grown into a defined handsomeness that was almost otherworldly in its beauty.

Bloody hell, Harry thought. I just thought of Draco sodding Malfoy as beautiful. The cool grey eyes watched him warily and a pale brow hitched upward at Harry's perusal. Malfoy returned the favour, sliding his gaze slowly up and down Harry in a manner that brought an unaccountable flush to Harry's cheeks.

"So," he blurted to cover his confusion. "You live here now?"

"No, I just Flooed in to sell you a condominium." The drawl was the same, Harry noted. Supercilious and annoying. Ginny finally returned to rescue him.

"I'm not really sure about this place, Harry. The view is pathetic and it would take kilos of paint to—oh, hello, Draco. Nice to see you again."

Harry gaped at her. She did not seem the least bit surprised to see the Slytherin prat. "You knew?" he asked.

She shrugged. "I wasn't certain, but the realty magazine did say D. Malfoy, so I thought there might be more than one." She grinned. "But apparently not. You are looking well." Her tone was polite, as though there had not been animosity between the Weasleys and Malfoys for generations.

Malfoy seemed stiff as a statue, but he recovered with a sharp nod. "What brings you across the globe to America? Surely you are not planning to move here?" Harry did not need Occlumency to read the thoughts obviously spinning through Malfoy's mind. If Harry moved to Seattle, Malfoy would likely relocate to Argentina, or Timbuktu, or somewhere else Potter and Weasley-free.

Harry smiled widely. "We are definitely considering it. How long have you lived here?" He felt a glow of satisfaction when Malfoy blanched.

"Three years," he admitted. One hand toyed absently with the dark green tie he wore. Harry did not think Malfoy was aware of the action. It calmed him to know the blond was just as discombobulated by their reunion.

"You should have dinner with us," Ginny said brightly, causing both Harry and Malfoy to stare at her once more. Harry wondered if his Ginny had been kidnapped in the other room and replaced with a doppelganger.

Malfoy opened his mouth—to refuse, no doubt—so Harry quickly said, "Yes. Do join us, Malfoy. I mean… Draco." He made it sound like a challenge, implying that Malfoy would be admitting cowardice by refusing. The grey eyes flashed.

"My schedule this evening is quite full."

"Tomorrow, then," Harry prodded. "We will go anywhere of your choosing. Our treat, of course."

That earned Harry a ghost of a smile and he knew Malfoy would locate the most expensive restaurant in the region. He did not care. For some reason it seemed important that he see Malfoy again, and not just so he could return the wand.

"You can call it a business meeting if you like," Ginny added. "Feel free to bring us some listings for places that are better than this." She wrinkled her nose as she indicated the garish room.

Malfoy sighed. "Very well. Now that I know you are wizards I can show you properties in the wizarding areas, as well. Unless you prefer the Muggle neighbourhoods?"

"I think Harry is flexible, aren't you, Harry?"

Malfoy's eyes widened at that and he coughed while his fingers practically crumpled his silk tie. Harry found the sight of Malfoy's discomfiture strangely captivating. The Slytherin had always seemed self-assured to the point of arrogance.

"Indeed I am," Harry replied and grinned. The silver eyes flicked to him and away.

"Excellent," Ginny said. "Then it's settled. Draco, you already have Harry's phone number, since I used his phone to call you this morning. Harry, I forgot to give this to you." She pulled a silver device from her purse and flipped it to him. Harry caught it and looked at the small cellular phone curiously. "I bought them yesterday at the mall while you were ordering our lunch. Aren't they cute? Apparently Muggles can't live without them. See you tomorrow, Draco."

With that, Ginny went out, leaving Harry staring after her in bemusement. He turned and looked at Malfoy, who watched him with much the same expression. Harry lifted a hand and gave the blond a weak smile before trailing after Ginny.

Harry's phone rang early the next afternoon, just as he and Ginny walked into the hotel lobby. They had taken a morning ferry ride to one of the nearby islands. Harry was thoroughly tired of walking and wanted nothing more than to crash on the comfortable bed and sleep.

"Malfoy?" Harry asked after flipping open the phone. "Are you calling to cancel our dinner plans?"

There was a brief silence and Harry grinned. He suspected Malfoy had called for that very reason, but the blond recovered quickly. "Actually, there is a property that just became available and it is not yet on the market. I thought you might want to see it."

Harry repeated the words to Ginny as they exited the elevator and used the flat card key to access their room. She shook her head. "Oh, Harry, I'm too tired. Can you go without me?"

Harry blanked for a moment. The whole looking for a house scenario was Ginny's idea, and now she was tossing it into his lap? With Draco Malfoy involved?


Harry cleared his throat, unable to refuse after taunting Malfoy about the dinner. "Yes, that will be fine."

"Good. I'll pick you up in front of your hotel in fifteen minutes. I assume you are staying at the Westin?"

"How did you know?"

"It is the closest hotel to my favourite coffee shop. See you shortly."

Fifteen minutes. Harry quickly changed his shirt and tugged a comb through his hair until he realized he was primping for Malfoy. He rationalized that he merely did not want to feel too inferior next to the blond's polished perfection. Ginny waved him away from her reclining position on the bed when he leaned down to place a kiss on her cheek.

"Try not to come to blows," she said.

Harry exited the hotel and then realized he had no idea what sort of car Malfoy drove. As it turned out, it was obvious the instant the realtor pulled up to the curb. The car was a silver convertible. Lexus it said on the rear.

Malfoy raised a brow when Harry seated himself and shut the door. "No fair maiden?"

"She's not feeling well."

Malfoy manoeuvred the car into traffic and Harry looked at him curiously. "It's a bit of a shock to find you here and even more so to see you so comfortable with Muggle technology. What's your story?"

Malfoy gave him a sardonic look. Harry thought it highly unfair that even the windblown look was attractive on the blond. Harry knew he would look a fright when they reached their destination, thanks to the wind making an even bigger mess of his hair than usual.

"My life is not open for discussion," Malfoy said curtly.

Harry scowled. "I was only trying to make conversation."

"Very well, then I shall ask the questions. When did you and the Weaselette—Ginevra, I mean… How long have you been married?"

"We're not married."

Malfoy's knuckles went white on the steering wheel for a moment and Harry looked around quickly, wondering if Malfoy had spotted some traffic aberration. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary and when he looked back Malfoy grinned mockingly at him. "Living in sin, Potter? I'm shocked."

Harry shrugged, having no intention of disclosing that he and Ginny were not exactly living in sin, either, and that their hotel room had separate beds.

"We will be crossing the lake in a minute. Your paramour stated you were… flexible… with regard to the type of property you seek. This one is an actual house rather than a condominium. The area is quiet and set in a wizarding neighbourhood." The freeway curved and headed over the water—Lake Washington, Harry remembered from his perusal of the map in the hotel room. Malfoy continued, "This bridge actually floats on the lake. Isn't that fascinating?"

Harry smiled at him, amused by the idea of Draco Malfoy extolling the merits of something Muggle-built. He also drove the car like a pro.

"I'm surprised the interior isn't green," Harry commented, running his hand over the white leather of the seat.

"That would be gauche, Potter."

Harry laughed and Malfoy actually smiled. Harry thought it would be nice if Malfoy smiled more often. It softened his features and made him look even more… beautiful. Harry fixed his eyes on a brightly coloured sailboat, confused by his thoughts. Malfoy looked casually handsome today, with silver-grey trousers and a white button-up shirt open at the collar.

They left the floating bridge and crossed over yet another freeway before taking an exit. Their progress was instantly halted by several stoplights and a glut of traffic.

"There is something to be said for Apparition," Malfoy said as his long fingers drummed on the steering wheel.

"Why didn't we Apparate, then?"

Malfoy smiled again. "Because I like to drive."

And because you wanted to show off your car, Harry thought. They finally reached an area with a sign that read Sherwood Forest. Stately trees gave the place a green canopy throughout. After a short drive, Malfoy turned onto a street and then took a left turn. "You should feel the wards as we pass through here. Muggles cannot see this street at all—they simply see a hedge of thorn bushes."

The neighbourhood they entered looked like a postcard advertising American suburbia, all green manicured lawns and cut-out houses painted in dull neutral tones. Malfoy pulled the Lexus into the drive of a quaint cream-coloured house. Bushes festooned with a profusion of blue flowers looked like a maintenance nightmare.

"Hydrangea," Malfoy explained, noting Harry's gaze as they exited the car.

The rambler was small but tidy, looking somewhat forlorn devoid of furnishings. The kitchen was bright and airy with French doors that led to a redwood deck overlooking a small back yard.

"Where do you live?" Harry asked suddenly after listening to Malfoy list the bathroom amenities (including a bidet, a whirlpool tub, and separate marble and glass shower) in a monotone voice. Harry was completely uninterested in the house. It reminded him too much of the Weasleys'—domestic and conducive to producing copious numbers of children.

Malfoy raised a brow. "In Seattle. Belltown."

"Are you happy here?"

Malfoy watched him as though the question was a type of trap. "What do you think of the house?"

Harry looked around, feigning curiosity. "It's nice. Is there anything closer to your area? This is a bit… suburban."

"Not planning to squeeze out large numbers of children, Potter?"

"I'm not personally planning to squeeze out any children at all. Lack of equipment, you know. But actually, I'm not ready to start a family."

"So you want to stick with downtown. You also prefer a modern bachelor flat over the domestic prelude to marital bliss?"

Harry would never refer to it that way in Ginny's presence, but he nodded.

"Since I have to take you downtown anyway, there is one more listing you could look at."

"All right," Harry agreed, not yet willing to part with Malfoy's company, odd as that thought seemed.

On the drive back, Malfoy filled Harry in on several random facts about the area, including the news that Seattle had a world class Quidditch team. They had never gone to the World Cup, but Malfoy assured him it was only a matter of time. They argued about the merits of Quidditch versus Quadpot until Malfoy pulled into the parking garage of a high-rise building.

Harry admired the cut of Malfoy's trousers as he followed the blond. He was not admiring Malfoy's arse, merely the trousers. But possibly the legs, because Malfoy looked to have really nice thighs… Harry shut down that thought before it could get him into trouble.

Malfoy took him up two separate elevators and then down a long hallway before unlocking the door with his wand. "Wizard building," Malfoy explained. "Although the first five floors are Muggle."

It was far nicer than the other two places Harry had seen—obviously the result of magical enhancement. For the first time Harry considered the idea of actually moving. Perhaps he and Malfoy might even become friends.

He grinned at the thought and gave Malfoy a speculative look.


Harry smirked enigmatically and enjoyed his newfound ability to discomfit the blond. "I like this one a lot," he admitted. "How much is it?"

"Six hundred and twenty five thousand Eagles."

"Eagles? Is that a lot?"

"It's American coinage." Malfoy pulled out a Muggle calculator and converted the figure to Galleons. Harry still found the price staggering.

"Location is everything, Potter. The closer you are to downtown, the higher the price. The view also adds to the cost and this particular flat has a non-magicked view of the Sound. Step out onto the balcony, if you'd like."

Harry did so, and marvelled at the stunning view of the water and the city from so high a vantage. The fifteenth storey seemed very high up when standing on a small deck with a barred metal railing. "It's beautiful," Harry said.

Malfoy nodded. "You have barely started looking at property, however. No need to jump at the first one you like."

Harry noticed Malfoy toying with the buttons on his white shirt and wondered if the blond did so as a nervous habit when he wore no tie. Harry also wondered what he had said to make Malfoy agitated. "All right," he said, more than willing to spend time house hunting with this interesting new Malfoy.

"Would you like to go back to the hotel now?" Malfoy asked. For a moment, Harry heard the words completely out of context, almost forgetting that he currently stayed in a hotel with his girlfriend. He wondered why his mouth had gone utterly dry.

"Can I get a drink of water?"

Malfoy went into the kitchen and returned with a glass. By then Harry had recovered his composure. He gulped the water and handed back the glass before opening his new phone. Ginny did not answer. "She must still be asleep. Would you like to go get a drink? An alcoholic drink, I mean."

"With you?" Malfoy asked, thankfully overriding Harry's blush with the derisive comment. "The two of us? Drinking? Do you think that's wise?"

"I hardly think we are a danger to each other any longer, Malfoy. After all, we've been together for a few hours now and haven't even hurled a single insult."

Malfoy chuckled. "Perhaps you are right. Strangely, I have not felt the urge to kill you today."

Harry made a mock intake of surprise. "I feel so special."

Malfoy thumped him on the arm. "Fear not. There is still time."

"Where do you want to go?" Harry asked.

"I know the perfect place. It belongs to a friend of mine and is only a short drive from here. Come on."

Malfoy locked the door behind them and they returned to the car. The "short drive" took nearly twenty minutes. Downtown traffic was something of a congested nightmare and pedestrians were everywhere, probably due to the gorgeous, sunny weather. Seattle was allegedly famous for its rain, but Harry had barely seen a drop since their arrival. Parking was another adventure and they ended up walking a fair distance to the tavern, which was in the midst of a huge cobblestoned area called Pioneer Square. The place had several wrought iron tables and chairs scattered out front, all filled with patrons. Malfoy did not pause, but walked through the doors and waded through the milling crowd. A large screen television played some sort of Muggle sporting event and most of the patrons were riveted to the action.

Malfoy found an empty seat at the bar and leaned over it to catch the attention of the bartender while Harry hovered at his elbow. The bartender, a huge blond Adonis, walked over and smiled at Draco warmly. "Draco! How nice to see you."

"Lars," Draco replied. "Likewise. Can you get me the usual? And something potent for my friend, Harry, here. I've don't think he's ever been drunk in his life and it's well past time for him to live a little."

"I have just the thing," said the bartender with a grin. He poured a martini for Malfoy and mixed up a tall drink in a large glass for Harry. Two seats next to Malfoy opened up, so Harry sat down.

"I've been drunk plenty of times," he muttered and cast the blond an annoyed look.

"A couple of these will get you there quicker," Lars offered and laughed. Harry took a drink and grimaced at the overabundance of alcohol, but the sweet and sour flavour was quite pleasant. He nodded his approval and took another gulp.

"How is Alec?" Malfoy asked and Lars sobered.

"Off on a case. I hope he'll be back soon." A signal from down the bar drew the bartender's attention. "Let me know if you need anything. Pleased to meet you, Harry. Draco is a great guy; you're lucky to have him. You make a cute couple."

Harry nearly choked on his drink. His eyes shot to Malfoy's and met the amused silver gaze. "He thinks we're—?"

Malfoy grinned. "Well, I am quite a catch, Harry. You'd be foolish not to at least make an attempt." Harry goggled at him, nearly as shocked by Malfoy's use of his first name as he was by the words. The blond elbowed him in the ribs. "Relax, Potter. I'm only joking."

Harry glared and took another drink, but it didn't stop him from casting sidelong glances at Malfoy every now and again. Sometime during Harry's second glass of potent alcohol his phone rang. He went outside to answer it, fleeing the hubbub of the bar after signalling to Malfoy with a hand gripped on his shoulder.

"Harry? Where are you?" Ginny's voice became easier to hear once Harry had escaped the din.

"I'm somewhere with Malfoy. We're having a drink. I wanted to let you sleep. Are you ready to go to dinner?" Harry drank in the fresh air, glad to clear his head. Malfoy's friend had been right about the potency—Harry was closer to drunk than he cared to admit.

"About that, Harry," Ginny said, "Do you mind terribly if I skive off? I ran into my friend Shea in the hotel lobby. Can you believe it? All the way from Scotland? It's such a small world, sometimes. Anyway, I sort of promised to meet her for dinner."


"If you want to cancel with Malfoy, you can come with Shea and me, although I can't promise not to bore you to tears with girl talk. She just found out she's pregnant! Isn't that exciting?"

Harry blanched. "No! I mean, yes, it's very exciting, but no, you two run along to your girls' dinner. I can entertain myself for one evening. I'll see you later." After the usual round of endearments Harry hung up. He turned back to the bar, feeling a curious sense of freedom. Malfoy had turned in his swivel chair to face the door. A grin quirked the lips of the Slytherin and Harry found himself smiling back, although he wasn't certain why. He made his way to Malfoy and imparted Ginny's message.

Malfoy's grin turned positively feral. "She is leaving you to my tender mercies, Potter? She doesn't seem to like you as much as you think."

"Very funny, Malfoy." Harry recovered his seat.

"This is not part of a plot to avoid buying me dinner, is it?" Malfoy asked.

Harry blinked at him. "You still want to have dinner with me?"

"How can I possibly resist the allure of your continued company, Potter?" Malfoy said and Harry nearly choked on his drink at the teasing tone. He coughed and Malfoy slapped him helpfully on the back with a smirk. The bastard had intentionally waited until Harry had put the glass to his lips.

"Very funny."

"I was not joking, actually. Come along, Potter. You promised me dinner and dinner I shall have. Goodbye, Lars!"

The bartender waved absently and grinned before winking at Harry and turning back to his bottles. Harry followed Malfoy, feeling disgruntled. How can I resist the allure of your company? Surely he was just being a prat.

They walked back to the car in silence as the streetlights began to wink on. Harry sat in the passenger seat and shot a sidelong glance to Malfoy, who apparently planned to ignore him during the drive, which was fine with Harry. They drove north, skirting the waterfront, and crossed a causeway before pulling into the parking lot of a large restaurant. The sign read Ray's Boathouse.

The place was strangely romantic and elegant, with napkins of purest white arrayed atop gleaming plates. Glittering crystal and silver sparkled on tablecloths that bore a striking resemblance to Gryffindor red, Harry noted. He caught Malfoy's eye and grinned. The Slytherin rolled his eyes, but Harry caught a flash of his quick smile before he turned away to follow the curvaceous hostess.

Their table contained an intimate place setting for two. Harry sat down and looked out the window at the amazing view of the sparkling waters of Puget Sound. The sunset reddened the snow on the peaks of the Olympic Mountains in the distance and turned the scattering of clouds pink.

"It is beautiful here," Harry admitted, watching a sailboat glide by. He turned to find Malfoy watching him with an enigmatic smile. Unaccountably, Harry flushed and looked away.

A waitress appeared and Malfoy ordered appetizers and a bottle of their best local wine. He seemed to have the menu memorized and ordered their entrees with no input from Harry, who shrugged and allowed the presumption without comment. Harry made nervous small talk about the décor until the sommelier appeared and poured two glasses of dark red wine. Harry was not much of a wine drinker, but he watched as Malfoy swirled the liquid in the glass and tasted it like an expert—which he probably was.

"I know white wine should traditionally be imbibed with seafood, but I cannot abide the stuff. So, Potter, do you really plan to purchase a house here, or are you just playing along to the Weaselette?"

"Her name is Ginny, you know?"

"That doesn't answer my question."

Harry shrugged and tasted the wine. It was dry and heady and would most likely put him on his lips after a single glass, especially on top of his previous drinks. He set it aside resolutely, thinking he might need his wits about him in order to suss out Malfoy's motives. The Slytherin was up to something, he could feel it. "I wasn't planning it, at first, but the more time I spend here—" with you, Harry nearly added and then drew in a shocked breath at the direction of his thoughts. He stared at Malfoy and found the blond hair touched with colour from the sun's fading rays. The silver eyes were soft and almost seemed to glow.

Merlin, Harry thought, is this a spell? Surely he had never thought of a man as beautiful before, and certainly never Draco Malfoy. It was true, however, and he gave up trying to deny it. Malfoy was attractive. Very attractive. Exceedingly attractive. Oh dear god, I'm attracted to Draco Malfoy. Harry nearly bolted at the realization, but his escape was curtailed by the arrival of their food. The tantalizing smell steadied him and he pushed aside his ridiculous notions in order to enjoy the meal.

Steamed clams and spicy calamari were followed by salmon filets and grilled halibut. Harry found it all delicious and even sipped at his wine as he ate. Thankfully, Malfoy kept up a constant stream of chatter, talking about the region and describing the merits of various suburbs. Harry decided to forget about his silly fascination with Malfoy. Or to forget about it as soon as they finished eating, because watching Malfoy eat only reinforced it. It was fascinating and almost erotic, the way his white teeth bit into every morsel with precision and his pink tongue flicked out to glide over soft-looking lips…

Harry shoved his wine glass away forcibly.

"Is the wine not to your taste, Potter?"

"I'm not much of a wine drinker. I think I've had enough alcohol, anyway."

"We'll switch to coffee then, with dessert." Malfoy smirked. "Lightweight."

Dessert was as bad as Harry feared. Malfoy ordered some frozen concoction that came with fruit, and felt the need to lick it from the spoon as though he were giving it a blow job, complete with moans of pleasure. Harry nearly choked on his chocolate cake and gulped his coffee. He felt the beginnings of an erection and stared out the window instead of at the lascivious blond, trying to conjure up unsexy thoughts. Bizarrely, it was Ginny's image that killed it for him. Because she would be livid to know I'm attracted to Malfoy, he rationalized.

"All right, Potter. Apparently I've bored you enough for one evening. Are you ready?"

Harry nodded, eager to escape the restaurant that had become his torture chamber. He paid the bill without even looking at it and followed Malfoy outside. On the way to the car, Malfoy's phone rang. He unlocked the door for Harry before answering it.

"Bruce? What's up?" Harry tried not to listen in, but Malfoy slid into the driver's seat. "At the club? Are you serious? Can't they wait until tomorrow? Yes, I know they have to be filed tomorrow… You could not have mentioned that you're flying out in the morning? Damn it, Bruce, did you not consider that this could be a bloody inconvenience for me? Fine. I'll be there in a few minutes. You're fucking lucky I'm fairly close. I've half a mind to let you lose the property on principal."

Malfoy flipped the phone shut with an oath. "I'll take you back to the hotel, Potter, but first I need to swing by and pick up some paperwork. It's on the way and I'd rather not backtrack, since Bruce will most likely wander off before long."

"No problem," Harry replied.

They were silent on the way to the club. Malfoy pulled into the lot and miraculously found a spot when another car moved out. "Want to come in and check out the local nightlife?" Malfoy offered.

Harry shrugged. It was still early and Harry knew from prior experience that Ginny's "girls' nights" typically lasted until the small hours of the morning. He followed Malfoy inside, studiously ignoring his arse as they walked.

The club was thumping with a loud Muggle beat and Malfoy reached back to grab Harry's wrist. "Stay close," he murmured into Harry's ear and then let go of him to pay the cover charge. The place was extremely packed with gyrating bodies. Harry followed Malfoy and found himself plastered against the blond when he stopped suddenly. He tried to step back, but bodies hemmed him in. Malfoy turned and slid an arm around Harry's waist, shocking him into immobility.

"This place is crazy tonight," Malfoy half-yelled into his ear. "There's an open seat. Come on." He dragged Harry a few steps to a tiny round table with an empty chair. "Stay here. I'll be right back."

Malfoy's warmth disappeared and a shirtless waiter appeared in his place. Harry ordered a drink and looked for a blond head over the gyrating crowd. A man sidled up next to Harry, obscuring his view of the dance floor. His cropped ginger hair was tipped with colour—either blue or green, it was hard to tell in the dim lighting. He wore an open shirt of some shiny material and Harry's eyes were drawn to the exposed chest and flat abdomen. A tattoo peeked from the edge of the open shirt, inviting a closer look.

"Hi, gorgeous," the newcomer said in a friendly tone. "I haven't seen you here before. Please tell me you're here alone."

Harry blinked at him, startled to find a man coming onto him so obviously. "Um…" He was spared an awkward answer by the arrival of the waiter with his drink. By the time Harry paid and took a quick drink, the man was leaning close to him.

"What's your name?"

"Harry," he admitted.

"Oh my stars! Is that an accent I hear?" The man leaned closer, practically gluing himself to Harry's side and sliding a hand up Harry's arm. "Where are you from, beautiful?"

Harry suddenly felt an arm slip around his waist and a familiar scent wafted over him. "Sorry, but this one is mine," Malfoy said in a tone of voice that made Harry's breath catch. "Harry, dear, we can go now. Unless you want to stay a while and dance?" Malfoy's hand drew up over his chest in a slow caress and Harry's earlier problem returned in force. His backside was moulded to Malfoy's groin and the Slytherin's breath was hot upon his neck. Harry could not have replied if his life depended on it.

The ginger-haired man sighed. "It figures the two most gorgeous men in the place are with each other. And those accents! If you are up for a threesome, give me a call, darlings. I'll be there with bells on!" He removed his hand from Harry's arm and sashayed off after giving them a saucy wink. Harry felt his heart restart when Malfoy chuckled in his ear.

"Sorry about that. I should have known you would attract attention. Even with your impossible hair you're pretty hot, Potter. Come on, I found Bruce and got the damned file. Are you ready?"

Harry swallowed hard, hyper-aware of Malfoy's body wrapped around him. He didn't dare go outside in his present condition—the bulge in his pants would be impossible to explain. "I… just got this drink. Do you mind if I finish it?"

"Not at all. Hmmm, too bad ginger boy wandered off. I might have taken him up on a dance. He wasn't half bad. I could probably convince him to rid himself of the ginger, too. He would look so much better as a brunet."

"What? You… You think he…? I mean, he's a bloke!"

Malfoy stiffened behind him. "Homophobic, Potter?"

"No, of course not! I just… I never expected…"

Malfoy's hand moved again, from Harry's chest down over his sternum to caress his abdominal muscles before sliding lower to pause at Harry's waistband. "Never expected what, Potter?"

Harry couldn't breathe. If Malfoy's hand moved any lower, Harry's condition would be revealed. The thought excited him almost as much as it terrified him.

"Never expected what, Harry?" Malfoy's fingers walked over Harry's belt and eased lower.

Harry groaned and twisted in Malfoy's grip. The hand holding him did not move, except to splay over Harry's arse. Harry glared into the expected smirk, even as his hands took hold of Malfoy's hips and jerked him forward. "I never expected this, Malfoy," Harry snarled as he drove his groin into the Slytherin's. The grey eyes widened and Harry felt a moment of immense satisfaction—he had actually managed to shock the blond. It lasted only an instant before Malfoy's lips crushed down on his.

The kiss was blinding in its intensity and Harry had never felt anything like it. He had kissed Ginny hundreds of times but they had never been anything like this. He wondered if a Dementor's Kiss was similar, because surely Malfoy was sucking Harry's soul through his mouth, drinking his essence with every delightful flick of his tongue, draining him dry. Harry whimpered, but the sound was lost in the heavy beat of the music and the frantic pounding of his heart. He broke away abruptly, lungs starved for air. His wide eyes met Malfoy's and he was surprised to see the same astonishment mirrored in the silver gaze.

The club was suddenly too hot and too crowded. Harry pushed away from Malfoy and bolted. He shoved his way through the packed throng, earning angry looks and curses. He hurried outside and walked quickly to Malfoy's car, thankful for the cool night air. He heard footsteps on the pavement behind him and bit his lip in consternation. Oh shit. What would Malfoy say? Harry wanted the ground to crack open and swallow him. Maybe he could convince the blond to forget the whole thing and never mention it again.

He turned around hopefully, ready to suggest that very thing, but he never got the chance. Malfoy enveloped him in a tight hug and pressed his lips into Harry's neck where he began to nibble his way up to Harry's earlobe. "Running away, Potter?" he murmured.

Harry's words died in his throat, choked into senselessness by the feel of Malfoy's hot breath in his ear. Hands seemed to be everywhere, stroking Harry's shoulders, ribs, arms, and—oh dear god—his arse. Harry's erection, tamed somewhat by his panic, sprang back to life like a wild beast. Malfoy moaned and rubbed against it, nearly sending Harry over the edge. He whimpered and clutched at Malfoy's waist, unable to push him away despite the warning bells shrieking in his head. Stupidly, he pulled the blond even closer, desperate for the delicious feel of his hardness grinding against him.

Pain shocked him back to reality. The edge of Malfoy's windscreen dug into Harry's kidney from where the blond pressed him against the car.

"Malfoy?" Harry said through the haze of delight. Bloody hell, Malfoy sucking on his neck was nearly as good as Malfoy frotting into him down there… A sharp pain made him gasp. "Malfoy, stop, your car is gouging me."

The blond raised his tousled head and fuck if he didn't look extraordinarily attractive with his hair mussed and his eyes half-lidded and glazed as he blinked at Harry in puzzlement. "My car?" he asked huskily, sounding dazed. Something indefinable wrapped around Harry's insides and squeezed. He had thought Malfoy to be in complete control, pursuing Harry with Slytherin cunning, but this… This was something unexpected. The blond looked as needy and lost as Harry felt.

"Yeah, it… I don't think it likes me." Harry pushed away from the car and the metal digging into his tender flesh mercifully disappeared. He could not quite bring himself to remove his arms from Malfoy's waist.

"Of course it likes you, Potter. Everyone likes you," Malfoy said. He straightened and released Harry's shirt to tug the keys from his pocket. The car beeped once as the doors unlocked. Malfoy stepped firmly away from Harry and turned sharply to walk around to the driver's side. Harry nearly stumbled when his support vanished. He watched as Malfoy got into the car. Harry opened the passenger side door and slid in before closing it lightly. His embarrassment returned in a rush and he looked out the window, feeling his cheeks flame.

After long moments he realized the car was not moving. Malfoy had not even started it. Harry dared a quizzical look at the Slytherin, to find him watching Harry intently.

"Where do you want to go?" Malfoy asked. A rush of heat seared through Harry's blood when he realized what Malfoy meant. Where did he want to go? Back to the hotel? Back to Ginny and his empty bed? Or to Malfoy's place? To the huge, yawning chasm of the unknown?

Harry's hands trembled with reaction and he pressed them firmly into his thighs. Godric Gryffindor watch over me tonight, he thought helplessly as he made his choice.

"Your place," Harry said hoarsely.

The key turned and the tires squealed as Malfoy shot the car out of the parking lot. They rocketed down the narrow streets at twice the legal speed limit and Harry knew without asking that Malfoy would hex any police officer that even attempted to stop them. The pale hands gripped the steering wheel and Malfoy's knuckles were almost pure white in the light of the streetlamps. He seemed afraid that if he didn't drive fast and hard enough that Harry would change his mind. He almost did a dozen times. Every time he tried to speak, his eyes lit on Malfoy's perfect, intense face and the words died a swift death.

Malfoy kept his eyes on the road, not looking at Harry at all, for which he was grateful. Whatever was between them seemed too large and fragile for examination. One word and it might shatter. Malfoy pulled the car into an underground garage and got out. He walked briskly to the elevator and Harry followed uncertainly. He stood next to the blond as he pushed the button labelled L. Their sleeves brushed as Malfoy pulled his arm back and he glanced at Harry. The tension was so thick Harry found it hard to breathe.

"Last chance, Potter," Malfoy said.

Harry swallowed his anxiety—hell, his downright terror—and reached up to brush the platinum hair away from Malfoy's slender neck. His fingertips glided lightly over the line of Malfoy's throat and Harry thought he saw the pulse jump. He did not even see Malfoy move, but suddenly he was pinned against the elevator wall and a hot mouth devoured his once more. A thrill skittered through him, mingling with a heady sense of power. He had never had such an effect on anyone before and no one had ever caused such a reaction in him. It was exhilarating beyond belief.

He surrendered to the brilliant kiss and his hands tangled in Malfoy's soft hair. The lips on his were white hot torture, evoking responses Harry did not know he was capable of, such as the strange huffing whimpers escaping his lips whenever Malfoy pulled away for a gasp of air. After some time, he realized the doors had opened and closed again.

"We should go up," Malfoy said and panted against his neck. His hands were clenched tightly in the material of Harry's shirt at the small of his back, as though he had begun to tear it free of the waistband but could not quite bring himself to do it.

"Yeah. Up," Harry agreed.

Malfoy reached out and pressed the Door Open button. The metal doors slid apart once more and Malfoy pulled him into the lobby. Harry started in surprise at the familiarity of the place.

"I've been here!"

Malfoy nodded and looked momentarily uncertain. "I brought you here earlier. The flat you looked at is just down the hall from mine."

That nearly shocked Harry out of the sense of unreality that nearly overwhelmed him. The thought of living down the hall from Draco Malfoy was suddenly too much to contemplate. He could not deal with it at the moment and shoved it aside for later reflection. There were other things occupying his mind at the moment, namely the way the glow from the hallway lights shone on Malfoy's amazing hair and made Harry want to touch it. He did so, sliding his fingers through the silkiness at the top of Malfoy's neck, earning a surprised look from the Slytherin.

Malfoy took him by the hand and pulled him to the second set of elevators before resuming the position of snogging Harry senseless. Harry dared to slide a hand beneath the white shirt and brushed his fingers over Malfoy's bare skin. Malfoy's answering moan shocked them both and they stared at each other as the bell pinged and the doors opened.

Harry was dragged quickly down the hall and Malfoy unlocked the door with a wordless spell. Harry's breath caught before he stepped over the threshold, knowing this was his final chance to flee, but Malfoy's quick uncertain glance around made him smile. Harry recognized the look—did I put everything away and is there anything incriminating here?—although Harry found it hard to imagine Malfoy leaving dirty socks in the kitchen or an unwashed dish on the coffee table.

As expected, the place was immaculate, a sight barely registered before the sparkling vista outside the windows drew Harry's attention. Unlike the flat down the hall, Malfoy's condominium looked out over the city. Harry walked to the wall of glass and stared out at the multicoloured lights. Cars could be seen moving on the freeway and crawling over the city streets below.

"It's beautiful," Harry murmured when Malfoy moved to stand behind him. Arms wrapped lightly around Harry's waist and Malfoy's chin rested on his shoulder.

"The tallest building there is the Columbia Tower," Malfoy said, drawing Harry's gaze to a dark expanse barely visible beyond the other skyscrapers. It hovered over the edge of the downtown core. "There is an exceptional view from the top. I should take you there… sometime." His words trailed off and Harry's mind spun at the bewildering thought of prolonging their association beyond… whatever this was. He was spared thinking about it by warm lips pressing into his neck.

"I'd like that," he managed and turned his head until his lips met Malfoy's in a kiss made awkward by their pose. Harry twisted until he could drape his arms over Malfoy's shoulders and deepen the kiss. Harry's cell phone pressed against his arse, trapped between them in his back pocket and he felt Malfoy's fingers slip in and remove the device. He tossed it on a nearby table and Harry managed to feel only a vague twinge of guilt at the thought of Ginny.

"Bedroom?" Malfoy asked.

Harry groaned. "Merlin, yes." He received another shock when they reached the bedroom. Malfoy's room looked out on both the city and the Sound with two full walls of windows. The bed was near the corner and contained no headboard or footboard that would obstruct the view. It seemed to hover over the city below. Malfoy made a fancy manoeuvre and tumbled them onto the bed. Harry lost himself in the pleasure of horizontal kissing for a bit, until Malfoy's hands tugged the shirt off over Harry's head. He realized a tall building nearby had an unobstructed view into the bedroom, which was vaguely backlit by a row of blown glass sconces on the wall exuding gentle light.

"Wait, Malfoy, don't you have curtains or… something?"

"Why, Harry?" Malfoy's usual smirk was strangely not annoying, for once, especially when he used Harry's given name and followed it with, "You're gorgeous. You should show off more. Let anyone watching be jealous." His hands roamed over Harry's body at will and he quickly lost interest in potential watchers, especially when Malfoy deftly removed Harry's trousers and pants, leaving him utterly exposed.

Unwilling to concede any advantage, Harry pulled at Malfoy's shirt and blinked in surprise when the pale hands encircled his wrists.

"Wait… Potter, why are you doing this?"

Why? It took Harry's lust-fogged mind a minute to process the question. "Why am I—?"

"Shouldn't you be with your fiancée? I mean, why are you here with me? Is this just curiosity? Or is it one last fling before you tie the knot?"

"No! No, I…" Harry frowned, trying to put words to something he did not understand, himself. "Does it matter?" he asked finally. "You've been flirting with me all night, have you not? Was it just a game to see how far I would go?"

A muscle twitched in Malfoy's jaw, evidence of the history between them, easily evoked with a few simple words. "No, Potter. I want you, even if it's only for one night."

The idea of one night was hot enough, but the thought of more than one, of lots and lots of nights… Harry shut his eyes to hide the enormity of the notion. He found it hard to believe Malfoy would even want more than one.

"Can we just work on this one to start with?" Harry begged. "If it's any consolation, I don't know why I'm doing this. I don't know if I'm gay, or rebellious, or just a complete bollocking shit, but I do know you've been driving me to distraction all bloody day and I want—I need—to follow this wherever it leads. All right?"

Malfoy's gaze softened and he raised a hand to touch Harry's cheek with a sigh. "All right, Potter. I just—" Whatever he meant to say was lost when he slid his hand behind Harry's neck and pulled him into another kiss. Harry surrendered to sensation and wondered why it felt so much better to have Malfoy's hands touching him than Ginny's. Maybe it was as simple as the confidence behind Malfoy's touch—there was no hesitance in his caresses, every stroke was sure and deliberate.

"Why are you still dressed?" Harry asked huskily.

"Because you are lying on me?"

"Point," Harry replied and rolled over to free the blond. Malfoy sat up and then exited the bed completely. Harry's momentary twinge of fear that Malfoy might leave was vaporized when he began to unbutton the white shirt—no longer pristine, but badly wrinkled from their elevator groping. There seemed to be an uncommon number of buttons, but that was likely a product of Harry's impatience. The cuffs took forever, but Harry barely noticed because Malfoy's bare torso was a sight to behold. His pale skin looked almost dark beneath the brilliant whiteness of his open shirt and his muscles flexed with each small movement.

He finally shrugged the shirt off with a graceful movement and Harry's heart leapt when the pale fingers descended to the waistband of his dark trousers. Harry could see the distension of the fabric where Malfoy's cock pushed against it. Merlin. He licked his lips in anticipation and Malfoy's answering grin was only slightly smirk-like. The trousers were pushed down roughly and kicked away, leaving the Slytherin clad only in dark boxers. Harry wondered vaguely if they were black, dark green, or some other colour, but when Malfoy's thumbs tucked beneath the band to slide them down with a quick motion, he gave up caring completely.

Malfoy stood, fully revealed in all his glory and Harry found it difficult to breathe. He bit his lip and wished he could say something that would encompass the depth of his emotion, but he thought words would cheapen the magnificence of the moment. Instead he held out his hand and smiled when Malfoy took it on his return to the bed. Malfoy tucked himself next to Harry in a shiver of skin on skin and dragged him into a rough kiss. So lost was Harry in the brilliance of Malfoy's tongue playing over his that it took him a moment to realize something else of Malfoy's was sliding against him—the amazing sensation of cock on cock flooded through him like an electric current. It magnified a thousandfold when Malfoy's hand reached down to grip his length.

A strangled cry escaped him and he felt Malfoy chuckle against his lips. "Never done this with a man before, Harry?"

Fuck, he wondered if he would ever get used to hearing his name spoken like that because he had never realized what a bloody sexy sound it could be. He wanted to hear it again and again. "Never done this…" Harry stopped himself before admitting he had never done it with anyone before. No man, no woman, no one. Malfoy would think him an even bigger fool for being a twenty-one year old virgin.

"Well, then, I suppose I will have to show you how it's done, eh?"

Harry had no idea what he meant, so he simply nodded. The blond could have suggested hanging Harry from the ceiling by his thumbs and he would have complied as long as the promise of orgasm lurked at the end. Instead, Malfoy rolled over and reached out to open a hidden compartment in the dark wood that surrounded the bed. He pulled out a small plastic bottle and handed it to Harry.

"Muggle lube?" he asked after scanning the label.

Malfoy shrugged, a glossy movement of pale shoulders in the dim light. Harry admired the way the platinum hair brushed over the back of Malfoy's neck as he remained turned away. "It works as well as wizard lube… and I like the scent."

Harry grinned. Black cherry. He thought it might be too candy-like, but then he remembered Malfoy's sweet tooth. His grin faded instantly at the thought of Malfoy spreading the lube over Harry's throbbing cock and licking it off.

"All right, Harry, since I'm not particularly in the mood for foreplay, we will do this the quick and dirty way. I don't think either of us will last long otherwise."

Harry nodded and then realized Malfoy could not see him. "Yeah," he agreed.

"Put some lube on your fingers."

Harry complied, uncapping the tube and squeezing the cool gel onto his fingertips. He smoothed it lightly with his thumb and inhaled the sharp fruity scent. Malfoy peered over his shoulder and Harry caught the edge of a smirk, belied by the amusement shining through one grey eye.

"Do you know what to do with it?" Malfoy asked.

"I… yeah, I think I can figure this part out," Harry said. I hope. He steeled himself and tipped his hand to rub his knuckles over the edge of Malfoy's hip, admiring the smooth curve of the blond's pale arse. Merlin, he looked like some sort of sexy Grecian statue, gazing seductively over his shoulder. He was thankful the image would remain burned in his memory; an instant later Malfoy rolled completely onto his abdomen and spread his legs. Harry thought it might be the hottest thing he had ever seen.

He continued to trace the edge of Malfoy's arse, following it until it bent into the crease between buttock and thigh. His knuckles fit into the seam and moved downward until the backs of his fingertips brushed the fine hair on Malfoy's testicles. A nearly silent huff of air was Malfoy's only reaction, but even that made Harry smile. The gel was warming on his fingers, liquefying to slide into the cup of his hand, so Harry raised his hand away from Malfoy's testicles and let the lubricant drip into the crack at the top of Malfoy's arse.

Before the blond could speak, Harry followed the trickle with his fingers, tucking his digits into the crack and gliding them over the tiny ridge of muscle. As he felt it he wondered how in hell he would ever fit in there without ripping Malfoy apart. Even as the thought ghosted over him in terror, Malfoy made a gasping cry and his legs fell open even wider, forcing Harry to shift until he knelt between Malfoy's thighs. His fingers stroked over and around the hot opening while he moved.

"Oh… Okay, now one finger…" Malfoy's instructions were breathy. Harry bit his lip and stroked a few more times, teasing, until he sensed Malfoy's growing impatience. He pressed the tip of his index finger inside gently, stopping before his first knuckle disappeared. He slid his fingertip in and out in barely discernable motions. "Ohhh. Oh yes. Deeper," Malfoy rasped.

Harry pushed his finger slowly to the second knuckle, marvelling at the tightness. Merlin, just thinking about that taut heat wrapped around his prick made it twitch, reminding Harry that it was still hard and eager to be touched. His finger descended again until it was buried completely. He pulled it nearly out and then pressed it back in several times, finger fucking Malfoy with one digit.

"Yes. Ohhh, like that. Another."

Harry shut his eyes for a moment and then pressed the tip of his middle finger into the lubed warmth. By Godric's sword, it was so fucking hot, especially when Malfoy shifted his hips and practically impaled himself on Harry's two fingers. He got the hint and moved them more quickly in and out. The feel and the sight of his fingers disappearing between Malfoy's beautiful arse cheeks before reappearing over and over nearly undid him. He knew his precome was leaking all over, wetting Malfoy's pristine blankets and he hoped the Slytherin knew some good Cleaning Charms.

Malfoy moaned aloud. "Spread your fingers," he said. "And then… And then add another."

Harry did as ordered, dragging his fingers open with effort and twisting them a bit before forcing a third finger inside.

"Draco," he said thickly, enraptured by the sound that escaped Malfoy and the sight of pale hands clenching into the pillow on either side of the platinum hair. Malfoy began to move more insistently, pushing back against Harry's fingers in needy thrusts.

"Harry, fuck. I need you inside me now."

Harry actually trembled with anticipation as he gently removed his fingers and shifted forward until his cock hovered over the place vacated by his digits. He quickly added another dollop of lube, not wanting to hurt Malfoy any more than necessary.

"Now, Harry, now now now," Malfoy chanted.

Harry bit his lip and eased his cock into Malfoy's brilliant, oh Merlin, incredibly brilliant so fucking hot tight opening. Deeper and deeper he slid, hoping he wasn't hurting Malfoy because there was no stopping now that he had started. He pushed forward until he was balls deep in the blond and then he stopped, shuddering and fighting the urge to come and come and come.

His hands wrapped quickly around Malfoy's slender hips, preventing movement with a tight grip. If Malfoy so much as flexed a muscle…

"Give me a second," Harry begged. "Fuck, you feel amazing."

"Take your time, Harry," Malfoy replied and Harry was gratified that the cool voice was none too steady. He felt like kissing him and wished Malfoy had lain on his back just so he could watch his expressions. Harry shut his eyes and realized that it would probably be too much. Even thinking of Malfoy's seductive bedroom face made his impending orgasm loom large again. Think about something else, he ordered himself. Think about… Dudley.

Whoa, that did it. In fact, picturing his grotesque cousin nearly quelled Harry's erection entirely and he made a quick vow never to do that again, but at least he was able to pull himself nearly out of Malfoy and slide back in without the danger of climaxing prematurely.

"Draco? How do I…? I mean, does this feel good for you, or should I do something different?" Harry was suddenly uncertain, knowing a few quick strokes would have him losing his load, but he had no idea how to get Malfoy off, especially when the Slytherin's cock was currently beneath them, pressing into the mattress and nearly out of Harry's reach.

"Mmm, feels good." Malfoy sighed in what sounded like contentment, but then raised himself on his elbows. The movement caused his back to arch and Harry wondered how many more poses were guaranteed to send Harry's libido into the ozone. Probably a lot. "Actually, pull out for a second. I want to watch you. This is your first time, so it should be something special, right?"

Harry nearly admitted that everything about it had been special so far, but Malfoy was already twisting, so he obediently unsheathed himself with a small pang of loss. The air seemed particularly cold against his lube-slicked cock. He forgot that when Malfoy rolled over and scissored his legs in a graceful motion until he lay on his back facing Harry.

Malfoy was even more gorgeous from the front, especially with his hard cock lying against his pale abdomen. It looked dark and touch-worthy, so Harry touched it. Malfoy's chest hitched as Harry trailed his fingers over the velvet softness and then explored the damp tip, swirling the drop of liquid over the head.

"Oh yes, much better this way," Malfoy said roughly. He lifted his knees, exposing himself fully and wordlessly inviting Harry back inside. Harry left off touching Malfoy long enough to reposition himself. This time he watched Malfoy's face while he pressed himself slowly back into the steamy depths of the blond. He was gratified to see Malfoy's white teeth appear and clamp down on his lower lip for an instant, although it worried him somewhat, thinking he might be hurting him.

"Good. Very good," Malfoy whispered, relieving his fears. Harry leaned down to place a kiss on Malfoy's lips, only to have his tongue captured quite greedily. Despite being as deep as possible in the blond, the kissing was nearly enough to distract him from the fucking, until Malfoy clenched around him, dragging a surprised gasp from Harry and a wicked chuckle from the Slytherin.

"On task, Harry."

"You're impossible," Harry muttered, but he pulled out somewhat before thrusting home sharply. Malfoy's doubtlessly snide comment was lost in a garbled cry. His eyes widened and the pale hands scrabbled for purchase on Harry's thighs. Harry grinned wickedly. "Is that on task enough for you?"

"Ohhhh, hell yes. That's nice." Malfoy flexed his legs and pushed himself up to meet Harry's next stroke. Thrilled with his enthusiasm, Harry did not hold back until Malfoy half-lurched upward with a gasp and stared at Harry with wide grey eyes.

"What? What's wrong? Are you okay?" Harry asked quickly.

"Holy fuck, Potter, do that again. That exact thing."

Harry wrinkled his brow and tried to replicate his previous thrust and realized the intense concentration helped stave off his imminent orgasm, which was threatening to close in on him with every slight motion of Malfoy's. He must have done something correctly because Malfoy's hands shot up and clenched around Harry's wrists, short nails gouging slightly with the pressure.

"Like that?" Harry murmured, pleased.

"Fuck, yes, like that," Malfoy said thickly and collapsed back against the pillows, although his grip did not slacken.

Harry kept it up, driving faster and deeper in response to Malfoy's moans and the sight of him near-thrashing beneath him. Only his Gryffindor determination kept him from coming first—that and the near-obsessive need to watch Malfoy's climax. He decided to hasten the process when one of Malfoy's hands detached from his wrist to slide between them in order to stroke his neglected erection. Harry felt a flash of shame for not thinking of it sooner and reached down to assist the blond. It was difficult to concentrate on making Malfoy shiver each time he thrust with a particular twist of his hips while stroking, but Harry was nothing if not determined. He was not quite prepared when it happened. One moment Malfoy was driving him on with breathy, utterly erotic cries and the next he was shouting Harry's name. He could not decide whether or not to watch Malfoy's face or his prick, but he settled on the latter when the grey eyes snapped shut tightly. Harry was fascinated by the unbelievable heat of watching ejaculate burst from Malfoy in thick spurts, but he was fascinated for only a moment before his own mind-blowing orgasm struck, crashing through him and contorting muscles he did not know existed.

It was mind-numbing and he nearly passed out from the epic force of it. The shudders seemed to go on forever as he emptied himself into the quivering body beneath him. When he slowly began to recover his senses, Harry found himself sprawled ungracefully over Malfoy with his face buried in the slightly damp blond hair, breathing deeply of Malfoy's scent with each panted breath.

"Merlin," Harry managed in an almost-squeak.

"As much as I hate to pay compliments to Gryffindors, that was quite astonishing."

Harry raised his head, eyes wide. "Astonishing, really? You mean it's not always that… amazing?"

"No. It is definitely not always that amazing. In fact, I might even classify that as borderline incredible, although of course that is not all your doing."

"No. You were definitely incredible, for certain," Harry said hastily. "Beyond incredible, actually. That was… Damn, sometimes I wish I was a Ravenclaw if only to find the right words."

"Sometimes there are no words, Harry," Malfoy said and his arms tightened around his waist. Harry sighed softly before leaning down to kiss him tenderly. Truly, some things transcended words. He suddenly knew that sex with Ginny would never be able to compare. He knew it without even considering it. He doubted sex with any other man would even be comparable, but he was not sure how to convey the sentiment to Malfoy, or even whether he should.

They kissed for long minutes until Harry found weariness creeping up on him. He had been tired earlier in the day and after their activities he was even more exhausted. Malfoy nipped him on the neck.

"You need to get back to the hotel, do you not?" he asked.

Harry sighed, but made no other movement. "I suppose I do."

After several minutes of Harry not moving beneath the casual-seeming caress of Malfoy's hand on his back—slowly up and slowly down, up and down—Harry thought it likely that he would never move again. Until the hand moved down farther and he felt a sharp pinch on his arse cheek.

"Ow!" he yelped into Malfoy's throat. "What was that for?"

"Up, you," Malfoy ordered. "I cannot sleep with your hulking form crushing me. And I'm sticky."

"Hulking?" Harry scoffed. He did, however, obediently roll over and watched as Malfoy levered himself off the bed.

"I would suggest a shower, but I believe the Weaselette would take umbrage with you for returning freshly dampened."

Harry wrinkled his nose. "Please do not use that word, it makes me think of Umbridge."

"And yet in the context of Weasley… you do not see the resemblance?"

Harry reached out and planted a smack against Malfoy's arse with an open palm. "Be nice."

"She is now officially my rival, Potter. I have no intention of being nice."

Harry blinked at him. "Your rival?"

Malfoy gave him an enigmatic look before he picked up Harry's underwear to gaze at them critically. "You can't honestly think I would give up such stunning sex without a fight, Potter?"

Harry felt a thrill as he crawled off the bed and reached for his clothing, but Malfoy snatched them away. "Fuck it, let's shower anyway."

Harry had no idea it was possible to get hard again within the space of fifteen minutes after an orgasm that surely had drained him dry, but Malfoy soaping him in the shower and allowing—no, demanding—Harry lather him completely caused his cock to stand up and take notice quite easily. He had always thought sex in the shower would be sort of cold and slippery, but fucking Draco into the wall beneath a spray of nearly too-hot water was certainly beyond any fantasy. It took longer than their first session, but Harry felt extremely clean and relaxed when they finally exited the steam-filled room wrapped in matching thick green towels.

Harry preceded Malfoy out of the bathroom and into the living room, chuckling at an innuendo the blond had made. His amusement died instantly when he saw Ginny Weasley seated on one of Malfoy's white leather chairs. She smiled sweetly at Harry's flabbergasted expression. Malfoy recovered more quickly.

"How did you get in here, Weasley?" he asked.

She shrugged. "The door was open."

Malfoy's gaze shot to the door and Harry saw surprise reflected there—it was probably against some Slytherin cardinal rule to leave a portal unlocked. Harry thought about making up some excuse for their current state of undress, but could not think of anything plausible offhand.

"Actually, the door was unlocked—I assume you were distracted—but that is not how I got in here. I cast a dual-Portkey spell on Harry's phone and mine so that we could reach each other, if necessary. I had a suspicion I would find him here, although I was hoping not to find him in flagrante. Luckily, he left his phone out here." She smiled and held up Harry's phone. Harry's eyes narrowed; Ginny did not sound the least bit upset.

"You seem strangely complacent," Malfoy said, giving voice to Harry's thought.

Ginny shrugged. "I am impressed with your ability, Malfoy. I've been trying to get Harry into the sack for three years and it took you barely a day. Either you have remarkable talent or there is, as I suspect, a deeper reason behind his capitulation."

Malfoy looked from her to Harry with a perplexed expression. "Trying…? What are you saying? You never slept with her, Harry?"

Ginny laughed. "First names and everything. Why don't you two go put some clothes on? Although I really don't mind the view." Her gaze travelled over both men and a lascivious grin curved her lips. Harry's eyes widened, but Malfoy's grip on his arm prevented him speaking as the blond towed him into the bedroom.

"Do you want to start explaining, Potter?" Malfoy asked tightly as he dropped the towel and dragged on a pair of soft-looking, dark pyjama bottoms. Harry was nearly distracted by the sight to the point of incoherence, but a bundle of material caught him in the face, thrown by Malfoy.

"I would if I could," Harry said in puzzlement and looked at the items Malfoy had tossed: a silk dressing gown and another pair of pyjama bottoms. "I don't understand why she's not upset. I thought she would hex both of us when I told her."

"When you told her? You were going to tell her?"

"Of course I was going to tell her! Did you really think I was here just for a one-off?"

Malfoy scowled. "How should I know, Potter? You had no answer when I asked you earlier."

That had been before the exquisite sex, Harry realized. Apparently it had changed everything, although his feelings for Malfoy had already undergone a radical shift during the course of the day. He realized he actually liked the blond.

Harry tugged on the clothing and then drew in a startled breath when Malfoy stepped before him and pulled him into an embrace. Warm lips nibbled against his neck and Harry relaxed into his arms, even while uncomfortably aware that his girlfriend sat in the next room.

"Is it true that you never slept with her?" Malfoy whispered, giving Harry shivers at the feel of his hot breath.

"Yeah. I never slept with anyone, until you."

Malfoy's grip tightened almost painfully. "Merlin. You do realize I'll never let you go."

Harry's hands reached up to tangle in Malfoy's still-damp hair and he turned his head to take the perfect lips in a heady kiss. "Good," he said. He pulled away and marched back to the living room. Ginny was at the bank of windows and she glanced at him with a grin.

"I wasn't sure you were coming back out," she said.

"Um… Gin, I don't know where to start," Harry began.

"I think I should start," she said when Malfoy entered and slung a possessive arm over Harry's shoulders. "You see, it was my idea to come to Seattle because I knew Malfoy was here." At Harry's confused look, she continued. "I suspected you preferred men over women, Harry, even though I knew you had not even realized it. Your eyes followed handsome men instead of girls and then there was your ongoing refusal to be intimate with me no matter how determined I became."

Harry flushed and started to apologize, but she waved a hand. "And then there was your eternal obsession with Malfoy. It all gelled for me when I caught you flipping through your Malfoy album one day."

"My… my what?"

"Your Malfoy album?" Malfoy asked.

Ginny nodded. "Oh yes, you didn't notice me standing in the doorway, especially when you were enraptured with your photos, but when you left the room I retrieved the book. You will be gratified to know, Malfoy, that Harry has a large tome filled with photos and clippings and items all about you."

Harry could not meet the eyes of either of them. "I… I just. Well, I wondered where you had gone when you left. You had always been such a huge pain in my arse that when you departed… I don't know, it seems like you took something with you. Something important."

"Yes, he took his long legs and beautiful arse," Ginny muttered.

Harry glared at her, but he could not deny the truth of the statement. "All right, maybe I was a bit obsessed and maybe I always had a bit of a crush on you," he said to Malfoy, who looked somewhat like a cheetah that had just brought down a gazelle.

Ginny nodded. "After that day I began to search for Malfoy, which was quite a lot more difficult than expected. It took months! Once located, though, it was an easy matter to convince Harry to travel here and search for property." She laughed and Harry nearly scowled when he realized how simple it had been for her to manipulate him. Still, he could not find it in him to be angry.

"You brought me here just to hook me up with Malfoy? Why?"

She rolled her eyes. "I love you, silly. I always hoped we would marry and live forever in marital bliss, of course, but that could hardly happen with you obsessing over Malfoy. I want you to be happy, Harry, and if this blond wanker makes you happy, then you are welcome to him."

Before Harry could speak, she strode forward and halted in front of Malfoy. Her eyes narrowed.

"Of course, there is one condition." She poked a red-nailed finger against Malfoy's chest to emphasize her next words. "If you ever hurt him, Malfoy, I will come back here and give you such a hex you will think the Bat Bogey was as tame as a Christmas gift. I don't think you'll find the balls of an African elephant to your liking, particularly with oozing boils."

Malfoy's brows disappeared beneath his hair and Harry suppressed a guffaw. Ginny turned to Harry and leaned forward to give him a sisterly peck on the cheek.

"Goodbye, Harry. I brought your things over. I'll be in town for a few more days and I fully expect to be taken to dinner at least once, even if I have to suffer Malfoy's company." She nodded in his direction, pulled out her wand, and Disapparated.

Harry glanced over at the objects near the door—his trunk, suitcase… and a dark wooden wand case.

"Well, that was interesting," Malfoy commented. "Who would have suspected a Slytherin heart beat beneath all that ginger Gryffindorishness?"

"I think all women have Slytherin tendencies," Harry muttered.

"Hmmm. You could be right. So. You're staying, then?"

"If it's all right with you."

Malfoy's lips returned to their titillating nibbling on Harry's neck. "I think that will be acceptable. Provided you let me fuck you in the morning."

Harry thought his knees might buckle at the thought. Luckily, Malfoy's arm still bolstered him. "I think that will be acceptable," Harry echoed breathily.

"Good. Let's go to bed." Malfoy turned and headed for the bedroom. Harry shot one more look at the case holding Malfoy's old wand and smiled to himself. He would give the wand back, but first he might make the blond earn it…