Authors Note: This story is a birthday gift to Shannon; one of my brilliant beta's and part of Team Awesome. The title of the story was inspired by the song 'Can't help falling in love with you,' which was recently covered by Ingrid Michaelson (whom I love) and I was listening to it and thinking about our favorite boys. I'm afraid I haven't had this story beta'ed however, so please bear with any errors in the writing. Thanks and I hope you enjoy.
It's such a nasty word, but far worse in Harry's mind was the term 'breaking up'. It made him feel like he should be crazy, or falling to pieces, and he probably should be, but right now he could only be stunned into shocked silence.
He was just standing outside his flat, the one he had shared with Ginny for the last three years, his old rucksack slung over his shoulder with a smattering of his belongings inside, and all he could think was that he was so relieved he had never married her.
The word divorce would never need to enter his vocabulary because he had never agreed to wed the girl he had at one time thought he would spend the rest of his life with, which was good seeing as though everything seemed to have crumbled around him over the last few weeks.
In fact, throwing Harry out of his own flat was probably somehow a blessing, though it was heavily disguised at the moment, mostly because he didn't know where to go now.
It was two in the morning and he didn't dare wake Hermione, Ron and the kids, plus he wasn't really ready to relive the fight with Ginny just yet and both Ron and Hermione would be far too eager for details.
They had been on opposing sides now for sometime when it came to Harry's relationship with the youngest Weasley. It had been five years since the war and he and Ginny had been living together for three of those years. Surprisingly enough it was her brother who pleaded with Harry to move on and Hermione that told him he should stay with her.
Harry shook his head and walked down the half flight of steps leading away from his front door. The autumn breeze whipped around him, chilling him to the bone as he thought of having to start all over again.
Still unsure of where to go, Harry ducked into the muggle pub around the corner, ordered a pint of Beamish and tried to plan his next move.
"Trouble in paradise, Harry?" Samantha the bartender asked as she handed over his pint. Harry and Ginny used to both come down to this pub, the Admiral's Arms, but lately it had only been Harry coming alone after one of their blow out fights.
"Gin gave me the boot," he complained, taking a drink of his beer.
Samantha patted his arm and gave him a sympathetic look. "It'll be alright, Harry. Don't worry too much over it."
"It was a permanent thing this time. I don't even have a place to go tonight," he groaned, regretting his whining immediately.
Samantha perked up and put on a lovely smile. "Well, I'll be off in an hour if you'd like to crash at my place," she offered with a wink, just as Harry knew she would.
Samantha had been casually flirting with him for months, which was part of the reason he would come down here after he fought with Ginny, just to confirm that someone still liked him, even if his own girlfriend didn't. He liked the attention to a degree, but never felt anything toward the woman and had no intentions of leaving with her tonight, or any other night.
"That's alright, Sam. I wouldn't want to impose. I'll figure something out," he told her pleasantly. She nodded and smiled as if expecting Harry's answer and moved further down the bar to wait on her other patrons.
When Samantha came back to place another pint in front of him, she looked thoughtful. "What about staying with that bloke you brought in last week? He seemed nice," she suggested.
Harry laughed harshly. "Malfoy? There is nothing nice about Malfoy," he replied.
"You seemed awfully chummy with him," she mused.
"Oh, not you too," Harry groaned.
"What?" Samantha asked.
"Ginny couldn't stop complaining about how much I hang out with Malfoy. He's my partner for Merlin's sake!" Harry shouted, still angry about his fight with Ginny, the reason for it and the fact that she was right to give him the toss.
Samantha chuckled and started cleaning off the glasses lining the bar. She had stopped looking at Harry like he was from outer space when he said things like 'Merlin', he supposed she must be used to it by now. "Maybe she's jealous?" Sam offered.
Harry gaped and sputtered. "What? No, I mean, what should she possibly have to be jealous over?" He knew exactly why she should be jealous, but it didn't make it any easier to say out loud.
"He's quite the looker," she replied with a casual shrug. "And he seems rather fond of you."
Harry rolled his eyes. "What gave you that impression, the constant sarcasm or the personal digs?" he asked, already regretting giving into Draco's demands that Harry take him to his favorite pub.
Draco had fallen into a bout of laughter when he found out that Harry spent most of his free time in a muggle pub and insisted on seeing the place.
Sam smiled knowingly and leaned in. "It wasn't what he said, it was how he said it," she answered at last.
"Right," Harry said rolling his eyes.
"He's been in here twice over the past week looking for you," Sam told him with a wide grin.
"Really?" Harry asked, perking up and looking around the bar to see if he could spot him now.
"No, but your eyes lit up when you thought he had," she replied with a giggle.
Harry sat back and sighed. It wasn't that he had never listened to what Ginny said on the matter. He could admit that Malfoy was attractive; any man would have to be blind not to see how beautiful the blonde was. He was also more fun to be around than Harry had ever expected.
He had been surprised to see Draco on the first day of Auror training, and even more surprised to be paired up with him throughout the process. They got on each other's last nerves for the first few weeks, but after being virtually locked in a room together for two years he couldn't help but feel close to him, no matter how unoriginal and dimwitted his views on muggles were.
Then after training they remained partners, but this time by choice, not by assignment. It was at this point that his trouble with Ginny had begun. She never liked Malfoy, but she kept her mouth shut through training because she knew Harry wasn't able to chose who is partner was, and they saw each other so little that she didn't want to spend it complaining about the ferret.
However, when Harry chose to work with him, she let her colorful opinion of the blonde fly freely. Harry was forced to defend a man he never thought he would even want to defend, to the woman who was supposed to support him.
He always brushed off the things she said as paranoia, never really giving her theories about him much attention. He was comfortable with Malfoy, they worked well together and they always caught their bad guy. He never understood why it even mattered to Ginny who he worked with.
That was until he discovered that Malfoy was gay.
Harry's discovery of Malfoy's sexual orientation had just been a few weeks ago, however Malfoy claimed he hadn't been straight the entire time Harry had known him. Harry sat holding the glass of beer in his hand as he thought back to that night .
He and Ginny had been in another knock down, drag out fights again and Harry went to Malfoy's flat to talk. When he knocked on the door another man, a very naked man, answered the door.
At first Harry thought he had the wrong place, but then he heard Draco's voice from further inside. "Who is it?"
"Some guy with glasses," the naked man replied, ignoring Harry's discomfort.
Malfoy appeared a moment later, and Harry had never seen his eyes so wide. "Potter, what the fuck are you doing here?" he asked in a panic.
"I was just leaving," Harry responded and turned away to do just that. He only made it as far as the lifts before Draco grabbed his arm and whirled him around. His face was paler than usual and his eyes were still wide.
"Harry, I don't think I need to tell you how badly I don't want this to get out," he said at last, surprising them both by using Harry's given name.
"I would never do that to you," Harry promised, and it was true. He knew all too well about bad publicity from his run in with the Prophet and Rita Skeeter.
Draco visibly relaxed. "Thanks," he whispered quietly. "I'll tell you everything tomorrow… if you want to hear that is," he offered with a smirk.
Harry laughed. "You could have told me sooner you know. It would have been less traumatic."
"And where would have been the fun in that?" Draco replied, winking, and laughing as Harry blushed. "This doesn't change anything between us, right?" Draco asked at last, his face going serious.
Harry shook his head; unable to say the word 'no' because he didn't think that was true. He could feel that something had already changed, he just didn't know what yet.
Draco smiled one last time and kissed Harry briefly on the cheek before rushing back to his flat and closing the door behind him, leaving Harry standing dumfounded in front of the lifts, holding a hand to the cheek Draco had just placed his lips against.
Harry placed his hand over that same cheek now, the condensation from his glass leaving a wet mark, and thought about the beautiful blonde. Shaking his head he placed some muggle money on the counter and waved goodbye to Sam, who was talking up some bloke in the back corner.
He was just feeling lonely that Ginny broke up with him; that was all it was. He had to work with Draco, and couldn't afford to confuse his feelings of friendship toward him with romantic ones. They were not the same and Harry needed to remember that at all times.
As Harry stood in the alley, readying himself to apparate, he thought of where he wanted to go and where he should go.
"Potter, you look like death warmed over," sounded the familiar drawl of his partner.
Harry didn't need to look up from his desk and paperwork to send Draco the rude gesture he had already given Neville and Ron before him. Harry had gotten about two hours of fitful sleep under his office desk before the house elves came in to straighten things and woke him up.
"Clever comeback as always, Potter. I heard Ginevra chucked you out," Draco replied to Harry's extended middle finger.
Harry sat back in his chair and finally looked up at Draco. The blonde was leaning against the doorframe casually, wearing black slacks and an icy blue sweater, which it had to be said, brought out the flecks of blue in his typically solid steel eyes.
Like Harry, Draco hadn't let his hair get too long, but rather kept it thick and shaggy on top and short and clean in the back. Unlike Harry however, Draco's hair was always perfect in a haphazard 'I just rolled out of bed, but my hair looks fabulous, don't you wish you were me' kind of way. Where Harry's just looked like everyone else's when they just rolled out of bed; it stuck up at weird angles and never quite laid flat. His only problem was that even after showering and styling, it still tended to look that way.
"Yes she did, and I imagine she'll still want help paying for it even though I no longer reside there," Harry answered bitterly.
"That sounds like her," Draco mused. "So what was the final straw?"
Harry shook his head. He really didn't want to talk about the incident, least of all with Draco. "Same old fight, just a new ending."
"Well, if you need a place to stay, I have a sofa that happens to be pretty comfortable," Draco offered with a smirk.
"Thanks, but no thanks," Harry replied. He still felt like he should keep his distance from Draco on a personal level until he got his thoughts all sorted out.
Draco shrugged. "Well, if you change your mind, you know where I live."
"Unfortunately," Harry teased, just to watch the slow pick blush form on Draco's cheeks. It happened whenever he referenced that night several weeks ago, especially in public. "I'll probably just stay with Ron and Mione," he informed Draco, to put his mind at ease.
It didn't seem to work though, because Draco promptly grimaced and bid him 'good luck with that', before making his way to his own office next-door.
It wasn't a field day, which was both a blessing and a curse.
A blessing in that if he were to try and catch someone with the two hours of sleep he had that morning, he probably would have hexed his own foot off by accident. Though it was also a curse because doing paperwork made him tired even in the best circumstances, so Harry was more than thankful when it was time to leave.
"Okay, I have two options for you," Draco said as they exited the Ministry together. "Do you want to hear them?"
"Do I have a choice?" Harry asked.
"Option one," Draco began, ignoring Harry's comment outright. "We go to that little muggle pub you like, I'll buy you a drink and help you devise a plan that will win Ginevra back."
Harry rolled his eyes. "And option two?"
"Option two is we still go to the muggle pub you like, only I'll buy you several drinks and then take you home and shag you until you can't even remember her name," Draco teased, or at least Harry assumed it was teasing.
He had been saying things like that since Harry had found out about his personal preference to men. Harry had determined it was mostly to make him uncomfortable, because that was what Draco thrived on, only it didn't work, at least not the way Draco was probably hoping it would.
"I don't want Ginny back," he groaned but put his hand quickly over Draco's mouth to keep him from repeating option two. "And I certainly don't want to shag you," he lied. Well, it wasn't exactly a lie; it just wasn't the complete truth. The truth was, at this moment in time he didn't know what he wanted from the blonde, and was slightly afraid to find out.
"Do you have a third option?" Harry asked as he removed his hand from Draco's mouth.
"I'm not good for much else," Draco replied with a shrug. "If you don't want to plot or fuck, I'm fairly useless," he added, grinning like a cat.
"Tell me something I don't know," Harry groaned to which Draco chuckled lightly. "Seriously though, I'll probably just head over to Ron's early or something."
Draco reached over and tucked an unruly lock of Harry's wild mane behind his ear. "I'll see you tomorrow then," he replied and walked away toward the nearest apparition point. It was one of those things Harry liked about Draco, the blonde was never one to press him for information Harry was reluctant to give, a trait he wished more of his friends possessed.
Harry also found himself liking the casual touches Draco had been giving him since he found out about his sexuality. He always wondered if it actually meant something, or if it was just that Draco felt more comfortable being himself around Harry now that he didn't have to keep such a huge secret. Or maybe Draco had always done it, and Harry just never noticed until that night and was reading far too much into it, which was very likely.
Ron and Hermione lived in a beautiful cottage only three houses away from the burrow. Harry enjoyed staying there normally, but a sense of dread fell over him upon apperating to their front door. He really didn't want to talk about Ginny, and he knew that would be the number one topic of conversation tonight.
Ron answered the door, mentioning that Hermione was stuck at the office for another hour or so, and he led Harry into the living room where he already had tea set out. This particular gesture made Harry very nervous, as Ron was rarely thoughtful when it came to guests. He usually left that up to Hermione.
"So I talked to Ginny," Ron blurted as soon as Harry made himself comfortable on the large red sofa in their spacious living room.
"You didn't" Harry groaned. "After I specifically asked you not to?"
Ron blushed furiously. "It wasn't my choice, Harry. She came to me."
Harry rolled his eyes and moved to the edge of his chair. He should have known she would do that, only he hadn't wanted to think she would stoop to such a level as airing their dirty laundry to his best friend, even if said best friend was her older brother. "So you know?"
Ron nodded and grimaced all at once. "I'm sure it was just an accident, Harry, but it looks… well it look really bad."
"I know," Harry groaned.
"Did you mean it?" Ron asked tentatively.
Harry blushed furiously and shrugged. "I don't know. I mean, obviously part of me did, but it's too late now regardless."
Ron nodded. "What do you want me to tell Mione? You know she'll want to hear what happened."
"Tell her the truth. If you don't then Ginny will and then we'll both look bad. This way it's just me taking the heat," Harry groaned.
Ron smiled nervously and nodded. "I'm so glad you said that mate, because I sort of already told her."
Harry shook his head, chuckling. "Why doesn't that surprise me? How mad was she?"
"Pretty mad, in fact," Ron whispered, "you might want to rethink staying here tonight."
Harry stood up at once and nodded. He knew that Ron wouldn't warn him off for no good reason. "Thanks for the warning. Maybe I'll just get a hotel room or something."
"Just for a little while, until things cool down," Ron offered, looking apologetic. "She won't stay mad for long, no one can stay mad at you, Harry."
Harry only nodded, feeling that quite the opposite was true, and left his friend's house, apperating back into London. He went to the nearest hotel and after being told there were no rooms available in that and neighboring hotels due to a tattoo convention he reluctantly admitted defeat and took the Tube to Westminster.
Harry was glad he hadn't apparated. He needed the Tube ride to try and talk himself out of this plan. But as he stood in front of the red and white brick building where Draco resided he found that he had not yet managed to convince himself to turn away.
Not even as he entered the building through the large oak entrance, or as he took the lift up to the top floor, or even as he knocked on Draco's door. Part of him was willing Draco to be away from home, out to dinner or something, and he thought that pleading part of him might just get its wish when no one answered for several minutes.
Just when he turned to leave the door opened a crack and Draco's smoldering gray eyes peeked at him through the doorway. "Potter," he hissed. "What are you doing here?"
"I thought I'd take you up on your offer of a couch," Harry said hesitantly, noticing Draco's smooth bare shoulder in the crack of the door. "Unless this is a bad time," he added hopefully.
"You are the king of bad timing," he huffed and opened the door wide enough to both show off his perfectly flat and bare torso, as well as to let Harry pass.
Harry reluctantly walked into Draco's flat, marveling at the space as he went. To the left was a wide open kitchen, all a shiny white lacquer and brushed silver cabinets and fixtures except for a sea foam green glass tile backsplash. The floor was a deep chocolate walnut covered sporadically in thick white rugs.
To the right was a large living room, painted a stark white with dark triangular wooden beams accenting the cathedral ceilings. Behind the living space were four stairs and a half wall separating the living room from the bedroom.
Leaning against the wall leading into the bedroom was a half naked man Harry had never met before.
"I'm sorry," Harry stuttered and began backing away. "I didn't realize you had company."
Draco shut the door, closing off his exit and Harry swallowed thickly. "You said you weren't coming, so I invited a friend," Draco informed him, gesturing toward the half naked man.
"I can leave. It's no problem, I'll just-" Harry began, but Draco cut him off with narrowed eyes.
"You'll not be running away like a scared little bunny as you did last time," Draco teased.
Harry's eyes flicked to the closed door and then back over to the stranger, who was now standing next to them.
He wall taller than Draco and thicker, not fat, but overly muscular for Harry's taste, if he had taste in such a thing, which he was sure he didn't. He had short dark hair that curled around his ears and a square jaw that kept tensing as he watched Harry and Draco's exchange. Wearing nothing aside from a pair of white drawstring trousers, which made him look like part of the décor, he sidled up next to them and looked at Harry quizzically.
"Well, are you going to introduce me to your guest?" he asked politely.
"Gabriel, this is Potter. Potter, Gabriel," Draco introduced with a flourish of his hand and padded away into his kitchen for a glass of water.
Gabriel grasped Harry's hand and shook it firmly. "My friends call me Gabe, but Draco insists he's not my friend," he chuckled.
"That's because I'm not," Draco called from the kitchen.
"I actually wondered if he had any friends before you arrived," Gabe said, ignoring Draco's comment and let his gaze linger over Harry's body. "With his attitude I'm surprised anyone can put up with him longer than one night."
"Potter's not my friend either, he's my partner," Draco said as he walked back to where they stood, throwing his arm over Harry's shoulder and leaning in as if to peck Harry on the lips.
Harry barely turned his face in time, letting Draco's lips crash into his cheek instead.
"If this is your partner, what the hell do you need me for?" Gabe asked, still scrutinizing Harry.
Harry rolled his eyes and ducked out from under Draco's arm. "He means work partner, not life partner," Harry muttered and shot Draco a scathing look.
"Ah," Gabe replied with a nod, as if it all suddenly made sense and perhaps to him it did. "Well, then do you mind if I ask him out?" he asked, turning his attention to Draco.
Draco chuckled. "You can try, but unfortunately for both of us he's straight," Draco told him as he winked at Harry and went to sit on the couch.
His words made Harry's chest tighten. Did Draco really think it was unfortunate, or was he just toying with him? That was one of the things Harry hated most about Malfoy, he never knew how much of his sarcasm, if any, was to mask real feelings.
"So, should I go?" Gabe asked, looking like he wanted to do anything but.
"No," Harry replied, inching for the door.
"Yes," Draco told him firmly. "Harry's staying here tonight and I doubt he'd like to overhear us."
"I really don't want to intrude on your plans," Harry protested, the doorknob almost within his reach.
"I had plans with you first," Draco replied and slipped himself between Harry and the door. "What kind of host would I be if I neglected you?"
"Potter, is it?" Gabriel asked.
"Harry," he corrected.
A brilliant smile broke out across Gabriel's face and he looked between both men for a moment before nodding. "I see now," he said with a knowing look. "I'll see you around, Draco," he told him as he walked to the door
Draco's face flushed a deep pink, but he nodded once and then turned his attention back to Harry. "So, trouble at the Weasel's?"
Harry frowned and shifted uncomfortably. Draco knew Harry hated it when he used the obnoxious nicknames for his friends, which is probably why he did it. He was even friends with Ron and Hermione now, and never called them that to their faces anymore, only in private with Harry, so he assumed it was just to irk him.
"Hermione's angry with me over the whole Ginny thing, so Ron thought it best I got a hotel, but most of them are booked for some convention," he replied with a groan.
Draco's eyes lost some of their humor and he went to sit on the couch, Harry trailing after him. "So I was a last resort?" he asked, his smoldering eyes seemingly asking for something.
"Not exactly. Begging Ginny to let me sleep in the guest room was a last resort. This was only second to last," Harry replied, trying to cover his discomfort with a grin. He felt like the attempt failed miserably.
"Brilliant," Draco muttered.
They sat in silence for what seemed like an eternity, each of them looking forlornly at their feet. "I don't understand," Draco said at last, looking up to meet Harry's startled expression. "We spend nearly all day together, we get along fine… why are you so hesitant to stay here?"
He didn't really know how to respond rationally to Draco's question, so Harry merely shrugged. Too many factors came into play when he thought of Draco. Up until a few weeks ago, their work relationship had always come first, but they often spent time together outside of that too. They would go to the same parties and even chat at the wizard pub by the Ministry office some evenings when Ginny had a girl's night.
This shouldn't be so awkward.
Harry knew Draco, knew that after the war, the boy left his family and his fortune behind because he didn't want to be like his father. He knew that Draco still had a prejudice against muggles, but it was nothing compared to what he claimed in school. Harry knew that Draco had moved into this flat the same week Harry moved into the home he was now banished from. He knew what the blonde liked to eat, that his favorite color was light blue and that he secretly listened to muggle music now because he never liked any of the wizarding bands growing up.
All these things about Draco he knew, but what he didn't know was himself. Part of him missed Ginny. In spite of all the fighting and the distance that grew between them, Harry had loved her once, and a feeling like that doesn't just disappear. He didn't have a home, his friends had temporarily abandoned him in favor of his ex, and that whole part of his life was suddenly missing. It was as if Ginny had absorbed that part of him, leaving him with only his work, his favorite pub and Draco Malfoy.
Draco Malfoy, who he had been slowly realizing was attractive, clever, funny, a hard worker and even sort of considerate.
Harry took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Just because he felt like an arse didn't mean he had to project it onto everyone around him. "I'm just out of sorts right now. I feel like everything's turned on its side and I don't know how to fix it."
Draco looked at him cautiously for a moment before nodding. "Well, you can stay here for as long as you like, or as long as you can stand the couch," he said, a subtle smirk forming on his previously troubled face. "Unless you'd like to share the bed with me," he offered with a wink.
"What? No, the couch is fine, I mean-" Harry stuttered.
"Lighten up, Potter. I was only joshing. Everyone knows you're straight as a nail," Draco replied. Harry thought he detected a hint of bitterness in the comment, but dismissed it as silly.
Anyhow, Draco was mistaken about everyone knowing that Harry was straight as a nail. In fact, Harry felt like a very crooked nail at the moment. "I've never actually been inside your flat," Harry noted, trying to change the conversation to something that wouldn't have him thinking of sleeping arrangements. "It's nice," he added.
"Of course it's nice. I might have to live off of the meager earnings of a Ministry employee, but it doesn't mean I have to live in squalor. Though, I have no idea how you can afford your place, Ginevra doesn't even work," Draco mused.
"I bought it with interview money," Harry muttered. Technically Harry could live off of his inheritance alone, but he was pressured to do so many interviews after the war that he thought it would be best to make use of the money he got for them somehow, though he hadn't originally planned to spend that money on his house.
He had given Grimmauld Place to Molly and Arthur, who could make better use of all it's space better than Harry and it didn't hold the bad memories for them that it did for Harry either. They sold the Burrow and gave Harry the money from it's sale as a thank you, and Harry was going to use it toward buying he and Ginny a house when he got out of training, but Ginny had used up most of the money by the time he was out.
It was always something that had irked him, but he never said anything, because technically the money came from her parents in the first place and he had more than enough of his own, it was just the fact that Ginny spent it all without even consulting him. He knew in the end he would get his house back, Ginny wouldn't be able to afford it on her own, and she couldn't sell it without his approval and signature. He just didn't want to create even more waves between him and the Weasley family than he already had with the break up by kicking her out right away.
Draco shook his head. "Sometimes I forget that you're Harry Potter," he said with an amused grin.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Harry asked, looking equally amused, but very perplexed.
"It means that most of the time you're just Potter, the kid I grew up with, and then occasionally I'm reminded that you're this big shot celebrity war hero who gets interviewed for Witch Weekly," Draco laughed.
"That hasn't happened in a while, thank Merlin," Harry corrected.
"It will just as soon as they catch wind that you broke up with Ginevra," Draco said, and he was right. Harry was waiting for the moment when he would step outside to flashing lights and scribbling quills.
"She broke up with me," Harry corrected.
Draco's eyes went wide. "Is she daft?"
Harry chuckled and shook his head. "She had good reason."
"And I don't suppose you'll be sharing any of that reasoning with me?" Draco mused.
"You suppose correctly, at least for right now. It's still too soon and I haven't even processed everything for myself yet," Harry replied. If it had been anything else, Draco would have been the first to know about it. He often used Draco's icy rationale to help him sort through his overly emotional problems with Ginny. But this one Draco just couldn't help him with. Harry would have to figure out this mess on his own.
"Have you had dinner?" Draco asked, thankfully changing the subject as Harry could always count on him to do.
"No, but I'm not terribly hungry," Harry answered honestly.
"Too bad. You ruined my date tonight, so now you get to be the substitute date," he replied with a mischievous grin. Harry blushed furiously and Draco chuckled. "Don't worry, I'm just going to make you eat dinner with me, not spend all night fucking me."
The blush to Harry's cheeks only got deeper as he imagined what a real date with Draco might actually entail. "Well, what else were you and Gabe going to do? I feel like I should make it up to you since I ruined things," Harry offered quietly.
Draco smirked and a pleasant twinkle grew stronger in his steely gray eyes. "Well, Gabe is a massage therapist, so he was going to give me a full body rub, lots of oils and sensual touching," Draco began, leaning into Harry's personal space. "By then I'd be relaxed enough to let him shag me."
Harry's breath caught in his throat and his chest tightened. "I'm not sure if I can help you out with that bit," he whispered at last.
With a beautiful pout, Draco kissed Harry lightly on the cheek. "I know, and it's a damn shame. I really could use some stress relief," he teased as he hopped up and began scurrying around the kitchen preparing their meal.
Harry sat at the counter and watched as Draco heated up a can of tomato soup and made grilled cheese sandwiches from pumpernickel and Gouda. He grinned at the simplicity and muggle nature with which Draco cooked.
"Comfort food," Draco informed him as he set the meal in front of Harry.
It was delicious, and exactly what Draco had called it. The warm soup trailed down his throat and the unique flavor of the sandwich made him giddy. It really was just the perfect meal for him at that moment.
"We'll have to make other arrangements tomorrow night," Draco said, interrupting Harry's fuzzy thoughts. "You're more than welcome to stay here, but I can't have you eliminating my sex life altogether."
"I can find someplace else to stay tomorrow night," Harry offered reluctantly.
"No," Draco replied with a curt shake of his head. "I want you here," he added when Harry looked as though he was going to protest. "I just want you to know that I'll be having … other guests as well."
"I don't understand how that would work though. It's not as if you even have a bedroom really," Harry said.
"I do so," Draco replied, looking affronted.
Harry laughed and pointed at the slightly raised loft space and shook his head. "You have no door, you don't even have a whole wall!"
"It's a loft. It's airy and minimalist," Draco huffed.
"It's a dining room with a bed in it," Harry corrected with a grin.
Draco looked offended for all of three seconds before joining Harry's laughter. "I can use silencing charms," Draco offered at last, once he had caught his breath.
Harry narrowed his eyes suddenly. "I'll still be able to see you," he informed the blonde. He had no really qualms with seeing Draco nude, but would prefer not to see him fucking other men. Though just the fact that he had no reservations about seeing his friend and coworker naked made Harry feel even more confused.
"Then you'll have to try and keep from watching," Draco replied with a wicked grin. "Unless of course you want to watch, in which case I'm sure that could be arranged. Gabriel would have agreed to a threesome in a heartbeat."
"He… no… that's not true," Harry stammered.
"Are you flustered because you're disgusted by the idea or because it intrigues you?" Draco asked, still grinning.
"Neither," Harry exclaimed. "I just don't believe you."
"Believe what you like, Potter," he replied, curling his finger around Harry's ebony locks. "Do you mind?" Draco asked suddenly, pausing in his movements, his eyes flicking toward his hand locked in Harry's mane.
Harry blinked rapidly and thought about it, realizing at once that he didn't mind at all when Draco touched him. In fact, he enjoyed it. "No. I don't mind."
"Good," Draco said with a smile as he tucked a lock of hair behind Harry's ear and got up from the table, clearing the dishes and flicking his wand to clean the mess.
He transfigured the couch into a proper bed and pulled Harry over to it. "Do you need me to tuck you in?" Draco asked teasingly.
"I think I can manage," Harry replied with a roll of his eyes.
"Fine," Draco replied with a playful pout and headed over to his own room, dousing the lights and leaving Harry in the dark staring up at the ceiling.
So much of him wanted to call Draco back, kiss him, confess his feelings, something, anything to try and get the confusion he felt to fade one way or another but he couldn't make himself do it. He couldn't risk everything he did have with Draco just to see if there was something more there between them. Draco probably didn't even feel the same way, sure he alluded to it occasionally, but that was just the way Draco teased him. It didn't really mean anything. It couldn't.
"So you and Malfoy are looking cozy," Hermione muttered as she and Harry entered the lift. She offered to take him out for breakfast that morning, claiming she just missed seeing him, but Harry knew when he agreed to it that he would be in for a lecture.
Not agreeing to it would be a far worse fate though, because Merlin knew she didn't need extra time to think up additional arguments for whatever point she was ready to make.
"I'm sort of living with him at the moment, and what do you mean by cozy?" Harry asked, bracing himself for the onslaught.
"I know you're staying with him," Hermione replied, carefully correcting Harry's terminology. "Which is odd, because I thought you'd be staying with us."
"I was going to until you sided with Ginny in our break up," Harry huffed.
"I'm not siding with anyone. I just don't know what to think, Harry. You and Gin seemed so happy, and then suddenly you're… well, you know what you did," she chastised.
"I know exactly what I did, and I also know there is no excuse and no way to take it back, but you know what, Mione? I don't want to! Ginny and I haven't been happy in years," Harry replied, not angry but firm.
"So you don't want her back?" Hermione asked, completely floored.
Harry shook his head. He had thought about it a lot over the two weeks he had been staying with Malfoy. In those same two weeks Ginny had managed to turn her entire family and all their friends against him, she had even threatened going to Rita Skeeter with their story. Harry had to agree to let her stay in the house to keep her from going to the paper. "No, in fact, I think this is all for the best. Maybe what I did will turn out to be a blessing in disguise. I'm fine staying with Malfoy-"
"Harry, you're being ridiculous. Malfoy? I mean seriously? Even if you were gay, you could do so much better than Malfoy," she lectured.
"For your information I'm not doing Malfoy. We're friends, that's all," Harry growled. He didn't like where this conversation was leading.
"Look, I understand. Even I have to admit the boy is hot, but really Harry. He's Malfoy, and I've seen the way you look at him; so don't try to deny it. You like him, as more than a friend," she observed.
Harry had talked Draco into letting him tell Ron and Hermione that he was gay, because he didn't like keeping secrets from them, and now he regretted it. "Hermione, who I decide to date next is really no ones concern but my own. But honestly, you really don't have to worry about it. Even if I were interested in Draco, which I'm not saying I am, he's not interested in me."
Hermione frowned. "That's the first time I've ever heard you call him Draco," she mused. "I'm not sure I like that."
Harry chuckled lightly. "Draco doesn't either, he says it sounds odd after over a decade of me calling him Malfoy."
"Fuck," Hermione muttered.
Harry gaped, cursing from Hermione was a very rare thing, especially once her daughter started repeating everything she heard. "What?"
"You really do like him," she groaned and leaned her forehead against his shoulder.
Harry shrugged. "I do like him, but I have no idea what that even means, so no worries alright. I'm not jumping into anything either way. And I'm telling you, with the trail of men going in and out of his place every night he has no time to notice me," he grumbled.
"Every night?" Hermione asked incredulously.
"Almost," Harry nodded. It had been getting under Harry's skin for the past two weeks. He couldn't ever see anything from his own bed, and Draco was true to his word and threw up silencing charms every time, but Harry would just lay there every night and imagine what was happening in the next room.
The men would never even stay the night; Draco would throw them out just a few hours after they arrived. It made Harry rethink what Draco would do if he knew Harry liked him. Would Harry be some kind of one-night-stand for him? How would he cope with that later when they had to work together?
"Oh, Harry," she sighed sympathetically. "This just proves it though, you're too good for him."
"Can we just drop it, Mione, please?" Harry begged. It was bad enough he had to think about Draco and his whores at night while they were there, he didn't want to think about them during the day at work too.
"Sure," Hermione replied, sufficiently satisfied that she had gotten through to Harry on this particular manner. "Ginny wants you back," she said at last, starting her next topic.
"She should have thought about that before she threw me out before letting me explain," Harry muttered.
"And exactly what would you have said to her, Harry? How can you explain what you did?" she countered.
"It doesn't matter now. The fact of it is, she threw me out and all that did was give me time to discover that I don't want her, and I never really did," Harry replied.
"Rubbish. You were smitten with that girl at Hogwarts," she corrected, looking very indignant.
"That was a long time ago, I was a different person. I had a death sentence looming over my head for Merlin's sake. I realized though that all I ever wanted from her was a family, and that wasn't very fair to her. All we had in common was our love of Quidditch, and I can get that from anyone. I loved her, but I'm no longer in love with her, and I haven't been for a long time," Harry told her.
Hermione was quiet for a long moment then eventually sighed and sagged against Harry. "So never?" she asked.
"Never," Harry confirmed.
"I hoped so much that you two would get married and have babies that could grow up with my little ones," she told him wistfully.
"So all this trying to keep me and Ginny together was purely selfish on your part?" Harry teased.
"Of course, why else would I take her side? You're my best friend," she laughed.
"Are you going to tell me what's bothering you?" Draco asked, scrutinizing Harry as he sat sulking on the couch.
"I'm fine," he lied. It had been a week since his conversation with Hermione and all he had decided for sure was that he was more than just a little attracted to Draco and that Draco was a slut.
He felt neglected, even though he knew that was ridiculous.
"Can I take you out to dinner?" Draco asked suddenly, kneeling in front of Harry and balancing himself with his arms across Harry's knees.
"What?" Harry asked, not sure what the question meant exactly, or rather, what Draco meant by asking.
"I want to take you out, you've seemed to get more and more irritated over the past few days and I thought you could use a night out," Draco replied.
So that was all it was, a peace offering to try and get Harry to stop being so snappy with him. Still, it would be nice to spend some time alone with him; maybe it would help Harry to figure out what he wanted. Harry only nodded and let Draco take his hand as he led them out the door.
The restaurant Draco chose was beautiful with sleek polished woodwork and pale yellow chiffon curtains on all the windows. When they had first apparated, Harry didn't get to look around much because Draco led him quickly from the alley into the bistro, but then when the waiter sat them at a table on the balcony, he realized he was no longer in London.
"That's the Eiffel Tower," Harry pointed out, feeling silly all of a sudden.
"Well spotted, Potter. Ten points to Gryffindor," Draco replied dryly, but his pleasure at Harry's surprise was obvious.
Harry rolled his eyes but smiled just the same. "Do you usually take your friends to dinner in Paris?"
"Only the best for you, Harry," Draco replied.
Harry chuckled and shook his head. "You're right, it does sound weird."
Draco shrugged. "I thought I'd give it a try, but it almost sounds like I'm talking about someone else if I call you Harry," he chuckled.
"Malfoy and Potter it is then," Harry replied, liking the way that sounded.
Draco must have liked it too because he beamed at him and reached over the table to claim Harry's hand. His heart sped up and thudded violently in his chest as Draco ran his thumb back and forth over Harry's palm.
The sommelier walked over and handed them the wine list and Harry panicked. He didn't want to drink, didn't want to let his guard down and have a slip of the tongue while he was out with Draco. What if he told Draco how he felt and the blonde laughed at him? What if he only wanted a casual shag and nothing more?
"Nous aurons une bouteille de Louis Jadot Clos Vougeot," Draco ordered after looking over the menu.
"Deux mille six?" the sommelier asked.
"Non, Deux mille quatre," Draco corrected.
"Très bien monsieur, je reviens tout de suite avec votre selection," he replied and left them alone again.
Harry narrowed his eyes, about to chastise the blonde for ordering in a foreign language without even discussing it with him first, but lost his train of thought at Draco's beautiful smile. "Don't look at me that way," Draco teased. "You don't know a thing about French wine, so don't even pretend."
"I didn't even know what you were saying," Harry complained.
Draco smiled wickedly. "Serez-vous mien et m'aimerez-vous à jamais, Harry?"*
"You know I didn't understand a word of that right?" Harry mused, still loving the sound of the romantic language rolling off the man's tongue.
"Just say yes," Draco said with a wink.
Harry rolled his eyes. "Yes," he replied, unable to say anything else under such scrutiny from Draco's smoldering eyes.
Draco smiled wider and sighed contently. "Ah, but if that were only true."
"How would you like it if I started asking you random questions in parseltongue?" Harry teased.
Draco's eyebrows shot up in interest. "I forgot you could do that, I think I would like it very much actually."
Harry chuckled and hissed Draco's name in parseltongue, grinning widely as the blonde's eyes fell shut at the sound.
"That sounded so erotic," he said finally, after opening his eyes.
"You would think so. Only Draco Malfoy could get off from hearing his own name in snake language. Ever the Slytherin," Harry snickered.
"Indeed," Draco replied, smiling only for Harry.
"So what's good here?" Harry asked, trying to break away from Draco's heated gaze.
"Aside from me? The roast chicken, but the portions are huge, so we might want to share," Draco offered.
"I seem to be sharing a lot with you lately," Harry mused.
"Do you mind?" Draco asked, looking concerned.
"Not as much as I should," Harry blurted, a pink blush coloring his cheeks at once.
Draco smiled, eyes glistening. "Good, because I'm getting rather used to you being around. I was even thinking that maybe when you get things worked out on the Ginevra front, you and I could be roommates."
The words hit Harry like a hex to the chest and he tried to carefully mask his disappointment. So that was it, Draco only wanted him as a friend and colleague, not as a romantic attachment. "I'm not sure I'd like to be permanently relegated to your couch," he replied at last after swallowing back his hurt feelings.
"Well, we'd find a new place of course, one where you could have your own room, unless of course-" Draco began but was cut off as the waiter came back to take their orders and pour their wine.
Harry sipped at his wine and watched as Draco rattled off another order in French, his silver eyes flicking to Harry occasionally.
"Mon invité et moi partagerons le poulet rôti," he told the waiter, who gave Harry a tight smile and then nodded and left their table.
"What did you say to him? He looked perturbed," Harry noted, watching the waiter's back as he retreated.
"I called you my date and told him we'd be sharing a dish. I'm not sure which offended him more," Draco chuckled.
"Am I your date?" Harry asked, caring little whether or not the waiter had issues with them sharing their dinner or their bed. The answer to that one simple question would dictate how Harry would navigate the rest of the evening, and it nearly burned him alive how badly he wanted Draco to say 'yes'.
Draco's right eyebrow shot up dramatically and he tapped his fingertips together, forming a steeple. "I suppose that would depend on your definition of a date."
Harry set his glass down and rolled his eyes. "Well, you called me your date, so you tell me. I haven't been on a date in years, maybe the definition has changed," he added with an innocent smile.
"Well, my dates tend to end in sex, so I'd say this is probably not a date, unless of course you would like it to be, in which case I'm sure that can be arranged," Draco replied with a wry grin.
Sighing, Harry swirled his glass of wine a few times before putting it back down on the table. Leave it to Malfoy to overcomplicate things and not answer him directly. "So, not a date?" he tried to confirm.
Draco merely shrugged, which was no help at all to Harry, so he let it go, assuming that if Draco was interested in him then it was only for sex, and that wasn't what Harry wanted. He didn't know exactly what he did want, but he knew it wasn't a one-night-stand with a man he would have to see nearly every day for the extent of his career.
"That's probably for the best," Harry offered, staring at his wine instead of looking up into Draco's expectant eyes. "I wouldn't want to be just a turn in your revolving door of men," he joked lightly, though didn't really feel the humor in the idea at all.
"I agree, that wouldn't be an appropriate place for you, Harry Potter, hero of the wizarding world," Draco mused, taking a long drink from his wine glass.
Harry wanted to scream at Draco that his ill begotten status as hero had nothing to do with it, but he clamped his mouth shut and tried to enjoy the lovely view of Paris and Draco's company.
The waiter came with their meal, breaking their awkward silence and Harry sighed heavily as the smell of their dinner wafted over him. "Delicious," he breathed, taking a whiff of the air around him.
"You haven't even tasted it yet," Draco teased, cutting off a bite and offering it to Harry with his fingers.
Harry leaned in and took it, savoring the taste of tender meat covered in golden herb rubbed skin, with closed eyes. "It tastes even better than it smells, which I didn't think was possible."
Draco chuckled and sat back in his chair, watching Harry intently. In a moment of either bravery or foolishness, Harry cut off another piece and offered it back to Draco in the same manner.
The blonde accepted it easily, but lingered longer than needed sucking the flavor from Harry's fingers. A rush of blood swirled into Harry's groin and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Draco looked at him curiously and dropped his hand. "Sorry, I keep forgetting that this isn't a date and that I'm not trying to get you into bed," Draco whispered, no emotion one way or another behind his words.
"Right," Harry nodded resolutely.
"What do you say we just finish here and get back to the flat?" Draco offered as he divided the meal between them.
Harry sighed and began picking at his dinner, ignoring Draco's questioning looks.
"Potter, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable," Draco told him. "I was hoping this might cheer you up, not make things worse."
"I'm fine," Harry muttered, stuffing a bite of chicken into his mouth to avoid saying anything more.
"I'll leave you be when we get back to the flat," Draco offered. "If that's what you want," he amended.
Harry just shrugged, feeling more and more like an idiot for letting himself fall for Draco, who obviously wasn't really interested in being anything more than a good friend to him. He felt like an ingrate picking at his meal and being despondent when Draco went out of his way to bring him here in order to cheer him.
With a forced smile he continued to eat, letting the silence between them grow until finally Draco put his fork down, so Harry followed suit. Draco insisted on paying, and they left the restaurant, going back to the alley they had apparated in from, and the beautiful Parisian view became a memory.
Once back at the flat, Harry padded into the living room and sagged against the edge of the sofa. "So, since we're back early, do you have a real date planned for tonight?" he asked bitterly.
"No," Draco replied, staring at him curiously. "What's wrong?"
The question was long coming, and Harry just snapped, no longer able to keep his mouth shut about his feelings any longer. "Do you always just fuck a different man every night?" Harry asked at last, eyes narrowed and waiting for an argument.
Draco shrugged casually. "Not every night, and why not? The man I'm in love with isn't interested."
Harry rolled his eyes. "That's ridiculous. Who wouldn't be interested in you?"
Draco narrowed his eyes but Harry could see the metallic sparkle in them hinting that Draco found something all too amusing. "I don't know Potter, why don't you ask him?"
"Well who is it and maybe I'll do just that. Merlin knows you could do to settle down with someone instead of having a parade of random men through your bed," Harry huffed.
"Brilliant, I'd like that too. Go on and ask him then," Draco told him, gesturing for Harry to turn around.
Harry looked at him with confusion but eventually turned around as Draco had asked. Hovering just out of reach behind Harry was a large mirror inside an ornate silver frame. "What? It's just a mirror, Malfoy. What does this have to do with… oh," Harry sputtered in disbelief.
He whirled around to face Draco, who was looking very cautious. "So what did he say?" Draco asked tentatively.
It took Harry a moment to recall how to work his mouth, and when he finally did all he could do was gape. "Me?" he finally murmured, still unsure of his own voice. "You're in love with me?"
Draco turned away, balling his hands into fists. "I knew I shouldn't have told you. Things are going to be different between us now," Draco chastised himself.
Harry wanted to go to him, to comfort him, to tell him that he was wrong and that his admission changed nothing, but wouldn't that be a lie? In all honesty if Draco really did have feelings for him, feelings stronger than just a fling, then it changed everything. "No, Malfoy wait. I…-"
"It's okay, Potter. I know what you're going to say and I understand I just didn't want this to ruin our friendship. I like working with you and-" Draco began but was promptly interrupted by Harry who was angry at being cut off in the first place.
"Just let me think," Harry growled, furious that Draco was trying to tell him what to feel.
"I'm letting you off the hook, Potter. You don't have to say anything, just forget-" he began, but Harry leveled his wand at Draco's chest and the blonde snapped his mouth shut at once.
"Gods dammit will you just sit down and shut up for a minute?" Harry shouted.
Draco's eyes went wide and he fell heavily onto his large tan sofa, keeping Harry in sight as he lowered his wand and paced the room.
A million things ran through Harry's head all at once. Did he want Draco in that way? Yes, of course he did, he hadn't been able to think of anything else for weeks, but why? Was it just to experiment, because that would hardly be fair to Draco? Were his feelings genuine, or was he still just upset over Ginny?
Nothing stood out as an obvious answer, but Draco had been honest with him, so the least Harry could do is return the favor.
"I think it's time I told you why Ginny left me," Harry said at last, sitting on the edge of the chair directly across from Draco.
"Potter, you don't have to do-" he began but closed his mouth again at Harry's irritated look.
"We were having sex, Ginny and I, which was not something we had done in a while, weeks really," Harry told him.
A subtle smirk broke out on Draco's face and he looked like he was about to burst from containing his laughter. "What?" Harry asked, confused at what he had said that could be so humorous.
"Are you trying to tell me that you were such a terrible fuck that she left you?" he asked, after calming his laughter enough to speak.
Harry rolled his eyes. "Hardly."
"Good, because I wouldn't believe it," Draco replied, still smiling.
"Are you quite finished interrupting me?" Harry asked petulantly.
"For now," Draco replied with a shrug. Harry just watched him for a long time, suddenly unsure as to whether or not he wanted to continue after all. "So, you were having sex with your girlfriend…" Draco prompted.
Harry took a deep breath and let it out very slowly, closing his eyes as he did. "I called out your name," he blurted, much as he had blurted the wrong thing that night with Ginny.
"You what?" Draco asked tentatively, and Harry could no longer hear the smile in the blonde's voice.
"When I came, I called out your name, not hers," Harry repeated.
"And she threw you out," Draco finished for him, his voice just a bare whisper.
Harry nodded, taking his glasses from his face and rubbing his eyelids with the heel of his palm. He still didn't want to open them, still didn't want to see what friendship breaking emotion Draco's face held.
"When was the last time you had sex with her before that night?" Draco asked suddenly and Harry's eyes flew open at the unusual question.
"I don't know, weeks, more than a month, maybe more than two," he said with a shrug.
"Was it before or after you found out about me?" Draco asked tentatively.
Harry frowned and tried to think about Draco's question. "After, no before. I'm pretty sure it was before that, why?"
A soft chuckle erupted from Draco's lips and he came to sit beside Harry. "So, just to be clear here. You find out I'm gay, then you proceed to avoid sex with your girlfriend, and when you finally do have sex, you shout out my name?" he recited.
Harry blushed furiously and shrugged. "So?" He felt like a two year old on the verge of a tantrum.
"Why, Harry Potter, I think you have a crush on me," Draco cooed in an obnoxious singsong voice.
Before Harry could find the words to protest, Draco's lips were crashing into his and he lost the will to deny Draco's accusations. Draco's tongue darted out and grazed along Harry's lips, and he opened his mouth to him, allowed Draco to explore him. The blonde tasted of fine wine and the roasted chicken they had just shared and Harry nearly melted on the spot, having never felt such a rush of emotion.
Harry was dumbfounded and didn't know what to do, but as he lifted his hands tentatively, not even sure of where to put them, Draco's fingers intertwined with his and pulled him close. Harry moaned against his mouth, relishing the taste and texture of every spot his tongue slid along.
When they broke apart, each gasping for breath, Draco was grinning. "I don't think I'm going to let you kiss anyone else."
Harry's eyes went wide. "For their protection?" he asked, partly teasing and partly afraid Draco had hated it and that he was far too inexperienced for the blonde.
Draco shook his head. "No, because I'm the only one you'll be kissing from now on. I'm staking my claim on you right now, Potter. No take backs."
"I don't share," Harry told him, thinking of the men constantly trailing in and out of Draco's flat.
"Neither do I," Draco purred and kissed him again, this time gentler than before.
"And I don't take kindly to being thrown out right after sex. I'm not like those other men," Harry noted when they broke apart again.
Draco blushed. "I never fucked any of those men, Potter. I wanted to, mind you, I even tried to, but knowing that you, the man I really wanted, was just in the other room, I couldn't do it."
"What?" Harry asked incredulously. "All of them?"
"There weren't that many," Draco muttered, rolling his eyes.
"There were fourteen," Harry corrected.
Draco smiled widely and pulled Harry closer. "You kept count? That's so cute."
Harry laughed. "How is that cute?"
"You were jealous," Draco mused, placing light kisses all over Harry's neck and jaw.
"Damn right I was jealous," Harry muttered and pulled Draco's face back up to his for another kiss. He devoured Draco's mouth, staking his own claim on the blonde and pushing thoughts of all others from his Slytherin's mind.
Clothing came off as Draco led Harry back to the bedroom, shoving him gently to the bed and staring at him with shining eyes.
Harry felt suddenly bashful, naked and sprawled on his old rivals bed, wondering how things led to this point, from loathing to hatred to understanding to friendship and then love? How unlikely was this match? Harry was hard pressed to find one less likely than him and Draco.
"Even better than I expected," Draco mused, tracing fingertips along Harry's body.
"Better than Gabe?" Harry teased.
"Much," Draco replied, planting a kiss at the base of Harry's throat.
"And Todd?" he asked, letting his eyes fluttered closed at Draco's touch.
"Oh, yes, much better than Todd," Draco replied with a gentle twist of Harry's nipple.
Harry cried out, his body arching slightly and Draco chuckled. "You're far sexier than the whole lot of them combined."
When Harry finally got his eyelids to obey him he took a long lingering look at Draco, and was astounded. Partially because the man was beautiful, though most of this Harry already knew, but Harry was also shocked that no one had taken the man for their own yet.
The sheer willpower it would take to walk away from this man in his shining radiance was more than Harry possessed. Draco was mostly sharp angles and taut muscles, a chiseled chest above flat abs with soft pale blonde hair trailing down to something he never thought he would ever relish in seeing.
Harry propped himself up on his elbows and stared down his own nude body to Draco's and shot him a wry grin. "Are you going to just sit there, or are you going to kiss me again?" he asked the blonde, causing him to fall onto Harry and crash into his lips once more.
After kissing and groping one another for what seemed like hours, Harry started to feel the first stirrings of nerves course through his body. He wanted more, and he could tell that Draco did as well, but he didn't know how to effectively go about it.
Draco seemed to notice Harry's hesitance and chuckled. "We don't have to do anything tonight, Potter."
"But I want to, I just don't know what to do," Harry whispered bashfully.
"Well, what did you have in mind exactly?" Draco asked, his eyebrow elevated in amusement.
"What would it feel like?" Harry asked, suddenly wishing he hadn't when Draco looked down at him with a soft smile.
"If I fucked you?" Draco asked, his eyes sparkling with lust and Harry nodded. "Well I could tell you, or I could show you," he offered.
Harry blinked against the onslaught of emotions slamming through him as he nodded and whispered, 'show me,' to Draco who practically purred in response and kissed a hot trail down his stomach before licking a fiery line down the entire length of his cock.
Draco held Harry's hips still with a low chuckle to keep Harry from injuring him with his violent movements. "It's all fun and games until someone loses an eye," Draco teased, causing Harry to blush.
"Sorry… it's just been awhile," Harry whimpered, his words stunted by another wondrous thing that Draco was doing with his tongue.
Draco looked up and smiled wickedly. "Poor deprived Potter. Don't worry, Draco will make it all better," he promised before enveloping Harry's cock in his mouth.
Shuddering, Harry tried to keep his body as still as possible while Draco attacked him with his clever and perfect tongue. He threaded his fingers through Draco's platinum locks and moaned his pleasure into the open air, wanting the feeling to never end.
Harry's eyes flew open as he felt Draco start to work a finger inside of him, slowly pushing at his entrance. He yelped sharply as the finger breached him and began to shove deeper.
"Relax," Draco soothed, before replacing his mouth over him once more and Harry tried.
It was distinctly uncomfortable and Harry began to panic. What if he couldn't do this? What if as badly as he wanted Draco, as hot and sexy as he thought the blonde was, what if he just never liked this?
But then all worries faded in one fell swoop when Draco grazed a part of Harry's pleasure center he had never known existed and his entire body practically melted into the mattress. "Fuck," he moaned as his body pushed down to meet the probing finger.
"Soon, very soon," Draco assured him with a chuckle and inserted a second finger.
Harry writhed beneath his touch, his whole body flushing and covered in a thin sheen of sweat. By the time a third finger was entered he was whimpering and begging for Draco to enter him.
He barely noticed when Draco shifted positions above him until he felt the press of something much larger than a finger at his entrance. His eyes flicked open to see Draco hovering over him, one hand guiding his erection, and the other wrapped around Harry's. "This will be worse than the fingers at first, but it'll get better I promise. Tell me to stop and I will," Draco assured him in a no-nonsense whisper.
Harry nodded once and kept his eyes locked on Draco's smoldering gray ones as Draco slowly and painfully entered Harry for the first time.
As Draco stretched him, Harry had to grit his teeth against the sensation of being ripped apart from the inside. Draco paused and shot him an apologetic look, but Harry just shook his head. He didn't think he could keep his voice from breaking if he was to talk, but he didn't want Draco to stop, not yet.
Just when Harry was about to sound the alarm that the pain was outweighing the pleasure, Draco grazed that spot that made stars erupt behind Harry's eyelids. A moment later and Draco was fully sheathed inside of him and digging his nails into Harry's arse. "Talk to me, Potter. Everything okay?"
Harry just smiled languidly and nodded. "More than okay."
A flash of relief passed over Draco's already lust clouded eyes and then he returned Harry's smile before pulling slowly out, and pushing his way back in again and again, leaving Harry writhing and leading up to the heart stopping, orgasm inducing thrust that finally sent Harry over the edge.
Draco gasped as Harry came, shouting out his name and clawing at his exposed thighs. Draco pulled nearly completely out of Harry before pounding into his still tensing cavity one last time, sending all of Harry's nerve endings screaming in his skin.
Harry looked up to find Draco's head thrown back and his eyes sealed shut, his whole body quivering from his own release and he pulled Draco down on top of him, getting them both sticky from the mess on Harry's stomach.
After several moments of blissful silence, Draco fell to the side and pulled Harry to face him. "So?" he asked expectantly.
Harry shrugged casually. "It was alright," he replied, trying to suppress a grin at Draco's very open disappointment.
It wasn't long before the laughter broke through Harry's tight lips and he had a rib full of Draco's elbow. "Fucking Gryffindor arse," Draco muttered, unable to suppress his own smile, especially as Harry pulled him in for a kiss.
"So what does this mean?" Harry asked when they broke apart.
"It means that I have dibs on the famous Harry Potter," Draco answered with a wry grin that made things that had just been satisfied tense up again.
"What if the famous Harry Potter wants a bedroom with walls… and a door," he added quickly, already thinking of Draco's earlier suggestion of living together.
"Well, the famous Harry Potter gets what the famous Harry Potter wants, Draco answered with a languid smile.
"Anything?" Harry asked, suddenly intrigued by the possibilities.
Draco cocked his head to the side, seemingly thinking it over carefully but eventually frowned. "No, that's not true. I'll never share you no matter how much you plead," he replied at last, pulling Harry closer and lifting the sheets up to cover them both.
Harry's mind was finally clear as he snuggled closer to the blonde. He knew there would be fights, at work, with his friends, with his adopted Weasley family, and even with Draco, but he was happy to finally know where he belonged. He would never let anyone win the fights against his relationship with Draco, because that's what he knew he wanted now.
More than ever he knew that this was no fleeting emotion, not a phase to just get through and move on, and certainly nothing he was experimenting with. He wanted Draco, wanted to be with him, wanted to love him and make the life he had always wanted with this blonde boy beside him.
"I didn't even have to get you drunk to get you into bed," Draco mused to himself.
"But you did have to buy me dinner," Harry pointed out, grinning sleepily.
Draco smiled at him and ran his long fingers through Harry's raven locks. "True. But you're buying tomorrow night and I think I'm in the mood for Italian."
"Italy it is," Harry whispered, shifting to hold Draco closer as they drifted off to sleep and Harry was looking forward to tomorrow night and every night after.
Authors Note: The line Draco asks Harry in French is *"Will you be mine and love me forever, Harry?" The rest is simply ordering the wine. As a side note, I didn't really write it into the story, but Gabe knew about Harry, because Draco had been bringing Harry up all night, which was why Gabe resolved to leave when he did. I'm thinking at some point I might rewrite this story from Draco's POV just for fun. I hope you enjoyed my little story, and please review for naked Harry and Draco lollies.