Title: Sweat, baby sweat.
Rating:Light R (because of Harry's naughty suggestions)
Summary:Draco is a personal exercise trainer. Harry has some muscles he really needs to exercise.
Word count:1,775
Warnings:slash. fluff. horrible puns? Harry's naughty language?
Note: Uh... I don't really have an explanation for this... I'm sorry in advance.

"Go on, I know you can keep going!" Draco barked out, looking down at his nails while the man was panting and grunting and sweating all over his brand new machine. He really needed a manicure.

"I can't—I can't do this—please—"

"Oh shush. You still have a lot to do."

He'd have to procure an appointment with that Sarah girl at the spa. She really did his nails perfectly last time.

"I think I'm going to die!"

"5 more effing minutes, Jonathan. This is what you get for eating those fish and chips last night."

"How did you—how'd you know I ate—fish and chips?" The heavy set man gasped out.

"I told you—the food diary doesn't lie. You put down that you had a milkshake only. It detected that you ate a full serving of fish and chips with that milkshake. And for lying about it, you're doing another set of crunches and push-ups after this run."

"Oh Merlin!" Jonathan whimpered, his legs trembling as he ran for another quarter mile.

Draco sighed and looked around his gym, putting his hands on his lean hips. His parents still wondered why he had used his inheritance to buy a fitness center and make it the hottest gym in London, but he was happy, so they let it go.

Wizards and witches came from all over to work out here, and he certainly treated it as such. Only hiring people that he had personally trained himself, Draco barely ever did personal training anymore—it was all paperwork and such for him now.

This week however, his most popular trainer had had a traveling accident and he was stuck picking up all of her appointments.

"Sir? Do you have a minute?" A young girl came up to him and asked.

"Yes Mia, what is it?" Draco asked, his eyes flicking over to Jonathan who was now drooling and sweating as he did his crunches.

"Marinda just Floo called from the hospital—she's feeling a lot better, but the healers say she needs two more days to rest."

"Ah, I see…" Draco rolled his eyes. "Well, I suppose it's good that she's feeling better."

"Yes. She also told me that she had a newbie coming in today. She couldn't send the information over, so she just told me to give him to you. She said you'd be able to handle him."

"Merlin, do I have to do everything around here? If I don't have any of his information, how am I supposed to know what work-out type he is?"

"She says you'll know it when you see him. His appointment is for right now, so he's probably waiting out in the lobby for you…"

"She said that? Great—I bet he's some fat arse that we have to put on accelerated work-outs. Fine… tell him I'll be there in a minute."

He watched as Mia scurried away and then looked back down at Jonathan who was simply lying on the mat, flushed and swearing in pain.

"Tell me again, Jonathan…how did those fish and chips taste?"

"Ugh…I think I'm going to vomit."

"Keep it off my equipment. And follow the food diary next time."

The joys of being a personal trainer.

Draco took a detour to his office and cleaned up a bit before going out to meet his next client. He always took newbies seriously, and if they saw how fit and sexy he looked, a lot of them were encouraged to follow their personal trainer's rules.

He sighed and paused for a moment before putting his best fake-smile on and opening the door to the lobby. "Welcome to Better Bodies, my name is Draco and I'll be your personal— Potter?"

Draco stopped dead in his tracks when he saw the newbie turn around and look at him.

"Hello Draco…I had hoped I'd see you around here. Even better, you're my personal Potter," he laughed.

"But—but…you're not even fat!" Draco spluttered in a very uncharacteristic way, his eyes roaming down Potter's non-existent fat. In fact, the man had grown up a bit too nicely, in a very lean, sexy way.

Potter laughed, his green eyes filled with warm mirth that made Draco want to snap his neck in half. "I know I'm not fat. But I need to build some muscle, and I'm on off-season, so I need to keep in shape."

"Oh…Right. I heard you joined the Cannons."

"Mhm. So as my personal trainer, what would you suggest?"

Was Draco just imaginingthat weird flirty look in Harry's eyes? What the hell was going on here? He hadn't seen Potter in two years—not since the day of the Trials. And here he was,flirting with Draco?

"I… you have to fill out some paperwork so I can distinguish your arse type. I mean—body type! For your work-outs." Draco felt his face heat up with the mistake. Merlin, what waswrong with him? He was usually so formal and cool around his customers!

"You can figure out my arse type too," Harry winked.

Stifling a shocked gasp, Draco thrust the clipboard into Harry's hand and fled from the scene.

"Come to my office when you're done!" Draco called behind him as he practically ran out of the room.

A knock came to his office five minutes later and Draco had calmed down mostly. He had guzzled down a bottle of ice cold water and shook his head repeatedly to knock some sense into it.

"Come in," he said coolly, sitting at his desk.

Potter came in with that smirk on his face—a smirk! Fucking Potter had a smirk!—and sat down on the chair across from Draco's.

"Before we get you signed up and everything, I'd just like to tell you a few things. We at Better Bodies take our work seriously. We are professionals and we are singularly trained to help you reach whatever goal you have according to your body.

We want you to feel comfortable here, but we also want you to push yourself to reach new limits. No matter what, we have regular training hours and equipment for everyday of the week.

Most of all, we will gear all of our work outs for you personally—since you're here for muscle, we won't bother with the food diary or the weight loss techniques, we'll cut down to lean protein potions and make sure you're working the right muscles at the right time. I know it seems like a lot of information all at once, but do you have any questions?"

Draco paused, proud of himself for getting through the newbie speech without a glitch.

"Let me get this straight," Potter sighed, leaning back in his chair and staring at Draco through half-lidded eyes. "You take your work too damn seriously. You worked for years here and you know all the shit that goes down and you're proud of it, because you've finally made something of yourself without anyone else's help. Which I've noticed considering how many articles have been printed about you and how much Marinda, your employee—who is my neighbor, by the way—has been talking about you. You want me to reach a goal according to my body. Which is fucking you, by the way. Ultimate goal at the moment, I'm not going to lie.

You want me to feel comfortable, which is really awful nice, thanks. However, you want me to push myself to new limits—which, honestly, I don't mind trying new things, and I promise I can be kinky if that's what you like. You want me to come in for training hours and your equipment will be ready for me everyday of the week? That's great, and it'll totally work for me.

Most of all, you'll gear all of my workouts towards you? Aw, really, you're too great here at Better Bodies! You're giving me potions that'll work my muscles at the right time? That's so sweet. I'm going to work so hard, and for so long. I do have a question though—do you prefer to top or bottom? I don't have a preference—or maybe we can switch it up?"

"Guh," was all Draco could respond with. His cock hardened in his work-out trousers and he bit his lip.

"Guh? Hmm, I'll take that as a yes, we can switch it up. Or am I being too brazen? I can definitely tone it down for you. Marinda did tell me you liked it when men came in and hit on you with over-the-top gestures, so I thought this would work…but if not, I'm happy to get to know you better and ask you out in a few weeks?"

Draco sat in silence, staring at this new Potter with shock and surprise and not a little lust. "Why?"

"Why? Why do I want you?" Potter asked, raising an eyebrow. Draco simply nodded. "Well…like I said, I've noticed how hard you've been working at making a respected name for yourself, and after drooling over you at Hogwarts, honestly, I thought I'd just come down here and tell you what I want for a change. Plus, about an hour ago, I downed an entire bottle of pepper-up potion because I've been sick for the last two days. It's reduced my inhibitions, I believe. And made me unbelievably horny. I thought, what the hell, I've been wanking to thoughts about you for months, the least I can tell you is that I want to go out with you, yeah?"

Draco suddenly grinned. So Potter was on a high from pepper-up potion? Merlin, what a day!

"I'm pretty sure that potion's side effects will last for the next four hours, you know," Draco murmured. "That's time for a lot of sex. Should I feel guilty about taking advantage of this?"

"Not really. Considering, when I finally get over this giddy feeling, but you'll be fucking me, I'll most likely be happy that I did it."

"True," Draco shrugged. "I can't believe I'm doing this, but…would you like to come back to my flat so I can get to know you a little better first? I don't fuck strangers."

"Technically, I'm not a stranger. You've known me since you were 11."

"Knowing you as an enemy and knowing you as a potential lover are two very different things, Potter," Draco shrugged.

"True," Harry said this time. "Let's do this at your place, I'm sure you have house-elves, and I have a feeling this is going to be really messy."

Draco shivered in anticipation.

The joys of being a personal trainer!