"He what?" Neville exclaimed disbelievingly.
"Hush! Do you want everyone to hear?"
Neville covered his mouth, as Harry raised his wand casting a few concealing spells around them.
"Look, Harry, I don't know what is going on with the two of you, but his mouth has never been anywhere near my arse. And, I'd bet it's the same for everyone else."
Harry ran his hands through his hand, mussing it even more than normal.
"I don't know, Neville. I mean, one minute I think it's more than just sex, but the next… I don't know I feel like I need to keep reminding myself that it isn't real."
Neville reached across their table, landing a hand over the top of Harry's. When he spoke, his voice was serious.
"It's very real Harry. I didn't want to scare you or freak you out, but he's cancelled on me and at least four other clients this last week. He never cancels. The only thing I can think of that would make him do it now is you."
"If that is true why does he still take my money? It doesn't really matter how he feels, or even how I feel. There's this huge issue between us, and I don't know how to fix it. I can't ask him out, because I'm paying him to have sex with me. How desperate would that look? 'Oh, here's some money; thanks for the blowjob. Want to go out tomorrow night?' Yeah, right," Harry snorted.
"Then tell him you don't want to see him professionally anymore. That way, you can ask him out without all that between you."
Glumly, Harry shook his head, "That's just it. Even if I never pay him for sex again, it will always be between us. There's no way we can start a real relationship when I started off as a client. And, aside from that, if we started seeing each other, I'd want him to stop seeing other people. I can't ask him to do that."
"I don't think he'd object, Harry, I really don't."
Harry sighed, twirling his unfinished, warm drink in his hand.
"No, I'm being ridiculous. He doesn't want me. He just wants my money, that's all."
And, before Neville could buoy him with hope again, Harry stood and left the pub, not looking back.
That same week, Harry had dinner at Ron and Hermione's. Everything was going smoothly, or so Harry thought. Just after dinner, Hermione ushered Ron into the kitchen, insisting it was his turn to clean up. Once they were alone, she pounced.
"Who is it?"
Harry thought to ask what she meant; he even opened his mouth. But, knowing Hermione as he did, he thought better of it. There was no use denying what she already knew. And, she did know, he could tell by the sparkle in her eye. It was the same one she used to get in class, when she was the only one with her hand raised.
"I'm not telling you any names, but I could use some advice."
Hermione just nodded, and rested a hand on his knee as they sat down on the sofa.
He told her his story, leaving out the nitty gritty details, of course. While he was speaking, she drew him closer, and by the end, his head was on her shoulder, and she was rubbing soothingly at his back.
"I wish I had an answer for you, Harry. I really wish I did. But there are no easy answers. Are you going back to see him?"
"I want to say no, but yeah, I am. I can't seem to stay away. I want him, even if it's like this. God, what's wrong with me!"
Hermione sighed, hugging him tightly, "You're falling in love, Harry. Honestly, it sounds like he is too. Just talk to him."
Harry pulled himself out of her embrace and stood.
"I can't do that. If I keep my mouth shut, I get to see him once a week. If I say something, and he doesn't feel the same, it's over."
Hermione looked at Harry with more pity than he could stand, and said, "But is it worth it?"
Friday night found him, once again, standing in front of Draco's door. Excitement mixed with fear and Harry wasn't sure he could knock on the door, much less walk inside. But, what was worse, was not knowing if he had the strength to walk away.
For two weeks Harry had been sleeping with Draco, and already he was hooked. But, really, hadn't he been hooked from the beginning? He thought about all those nights he'd spent tracking Malfoy through Hogwarts. He hadn't been able to walk away then either.
In one way or another, Harry's life had always centred on the blond. And, if he was being honest with himself, the most boring years of his life had been the ones between leaving Hogwarts and now. Draco gave him a thrill like no one in his life ever had.
Knowing it was his only choice – the only one he could live with – Harry knocked on the door. He smiled when Draco opened the door, and Draco smiled brightly back.
Harry expected to be mauled the second he was through the door. It didn't happen. Draco simply pulled him into a soft kiss, and then intertwined their fingers, pulling Harry toward the kitchen.
"Millie's prepared dinner a bit early tonight. She just let me know it was finished before you knocked. Are you hungry? You must be, you came directly from work."
Harry was seated in a chair, and had a plate served to him before he could respond.
"Yeah, I stayed a bit late tonight."
Draco narrowed his eyes, pointing his fork at Harry, "I'll just bet you do that quite often. You shouldn't work so hard, Harry."
Harry chewed silently, curious as to how he should take Draco's admonishment. Was he concerned? Or simply trying to make conversation?
"Well, they pay me pretty well, so…"
"Yeah, but that doesn't mean they own you," Draco looked thoughtful, as he said that, and Harry wondered how often that had happened to Draco.
Well, that surely didn't encourage Harry to ask him out. What if Draco thought Harry was only trying to own him?
"You should start coming here more than once a week. I'm sure you could stand to unwind more often than that. Would Wednesdays work for you?"
Draco said it casually, like he was merely suggesting they should have drinks together. But, Harry could feel the heat from Draco's gaze and it caused his pulse to race.
"You want to see me twice a week?" Harry squeaked, tugging at his collar.
He expected Draco to laugh, or say the suggestion had only been for Harry's benefit. He didn't do either.
They stared at each other for a moment, the confession hanging heavy in the air. Finally, Harry nodded, turning back to his food. He wasn't confused any more. Draco wanted him. Draco wanted him as more than just a client. But still, he wasn't sure how they could move forward.
Deciding to just leap, Harry said, "You know, next month there's an Aurors' Ball."
Draco froze, his fork halfway to his mouth, but "Hmm," was all he said.
"I don't have a companion," Harry ventured further, still trying his best to gauge Draco's reaction.
"Well, I'm sure you could take just about anyone you want," Draco replied, very carefully.
Draco chuckled, finally lifting his fork the rest of the way to his mouth. He chewed for a moment before he elaborated.
"I imagine the Weasel wouldn't be too fond of serving as your escort. So, yeah, just about anyone."
Whether it was meant to be or not, Harry took that as encouragement.
"What if I wanted to take you?"
That time, Draco didn't react; he cut a small piece of his dinner and took a bite, chewing slowly.
"That would depend."
"On what?" Harry asked, ready to agree to whatever Draco wanted.
"How much would you pay me?"
Harry's heart fell. It was just as he'd thought. Draco only cared about the money. He might have wanted Harry, but the money was more important. Harry almost lied. He almost came up with some outrageous amount (that he could, but did not want to pay). But, something stopped him.
"Nothing. You'd go as my companion, or not at all." With that, Harry dropped his knife and fork, no longer even the slightest bit hungry.
As he stood to leave, unable to remain in the same room with Draco any longer, he heard Draco's chair scrape across the floor. Then, the next instant, he was being pinned to the wall, and Draco's face was mere centimetres away.
"Say it again."
Harry didn't have to ask; he knew exactly what Draco wanted to hear. What he couldn't decide was how angry Draco was.
"I'd want you to go with me," and just to clarify, Harry added, "A my unpaid escort who's there because he wants to be."
Draco stared at him for a long, tense moment, and Harry was just beginning to get unbelievably nervous when Draco nodded, then kissed him so hard he saw stars.
When Draco finally allowed Harry to come up for air, Harry tried desperately to catch his breath so he could speak. But, Draco had moved to Harry's neck and started to tug at his clothes. Harry couldn't think with the way Draco's hands were moving over his body, seeming to be everywhere at once.
Clothes were tossed left and right and Harry's head spun as Draco lifted him, straining only slightly, and sat him on the table. Harry heard the crashing of dishes falling to the floor, and then Draco was on him again. It only took moments for Draco to have him stretched with oil he'd Summoned from another room.
Harry's legs were pushed to his chest, as Draco entered him quickly. The burn was intense, as Draco hadn't prepared him as thoroughly as he normally did, but Harry relished it. This was so much different from the other times they'd been together. Before, Draco had been caring and sweet, so in tune with Harry's needs and eager to please. He'd treated Harry like a virgin, even after that was no longer the case. But now, he was like a force of nature. Every stroke of his hips rocked Harry's body, and his hands were unyielding as the clung to Harry's sides. Draco was fucking him, hard and deep, and Harry couldn't catch a breath.
Lifting his arms above his head, Harry gripped the edge of the table, trying to hold himself in place, but, before long, he was too far away for Draco to reach him properly. Draco had, quite literally, fucked him across the table. He heard the table legs creak as Draco climbed on with him. Then, Draco was surrounding him. There was a hand gripping the back of his neck, fingernails leaving indents on his hip, and Draco's mouth was roaming over his neck, moving upward. Draco moaned, low and needy, when his lips finally sealed over Harry's.
Draco was rocking his body with so much force, that it was hard to keep their mouths aligned, and they ended up biting and licking at each other's mouths rather than actually kissing. Everything about their coupling was raw, primal, and Harry was awash in a type of pleasure he'd never experienced before. He felt owned, but at the same time, free. It didn't matter if he moaned or screamed; Draco wanted it all, left Harry no option but to succumb to the fire raging between them.
Harry's thighs tightened around Draco's waist, and Draco's hips moved faster. Harry clung to Draco, clawing at his back, lifting up far enough to clutch at his arse. He wanted Draco as deep in his body as possible. Draco was under his skin, pulsing through his veins.
He wasn't even aware of when he'd started talking; he only knew he was chanting the same phrase over and over, "Only me…only me… only me…"
Draco's answering, "Yes…yes…yes…" was so low Harry almost couldn't hear him.
When Draco came, it was with a growl so loud that Harry could feel the vibrations of it all the way through his body. Draco's thighs remained pressed tightly to the back of Harry's legs, and his cock stay buried deep, as Draco bowed his back, wrapping his hand around Harry's shaft. Harry panted, begged, and moaned, as Draco's hand moved up and down, twisting, pulling, and milking his release from him.
"Fuck," Harry hissed, through gritted teeth as he spilled over Draco's hand, wetting them both with his seed.
Draco didn't move, except to rest his forehead in the middle of Harry's chest. Harry sighed, lightly running his fingers up and down Draco's back.
"So, was that a yes, then?"
Draco didn't answer for a moment, but when he raised his head, there was something akin to wonderment in his eyes.
"You really were serious."
Harry nodded, lifting his head to press a gentle kiss on Draco's cheek.
"I…" Draco stopped, pulling his hand out from under Harry's head, and tracing Harry's bottom lip with one finger, "I think you can safely assume that was a yes."
"Good. Um… can we get off the table now? Maybe move this to the bed or the shower?"
Draco grinned, "The shower, then the bed. I'm not finished with you, Potter, not by a long shot."
Their shower ended up consisting of a lot of soapy frottage, and by the time they crawled under the sheets, they were exhausted.
As Harry pulled the covers over them, he asked, "So, it's decided, then?"
"Yeah," Draco answered, "I suppose it is."
"Mmmm, good," Harry replied, snuggling closer, and letting his eyes fall closed.
Harry spent the next few weeks sleeping at Draco's every Wednesday and Friday nights. Saturday mornings were spent lounging at the kitchen table, laughing over breakfast. Afterward, they'd usually end up back in bed for a few more hours. Saturday mornings were nice, but Thursday mornings were Harry's favourite.
Thursday mornings, Draco would get up, bright and early (even though he didn't have to), and see that Millie served Harry breakfast. Then, he'd walk Harry to the door, wish him a good day at work, and kiss him goodbye. It was almost domestic, and Harry was getting used to it, very quickly. If he could just forget all the galleons he was leaving for Draco every morning, things would be just about perfect.
Harry had the money, that wasn't the problem. The problem was that he didn't want to feel like he had to pay Draco to spend time with him. He also wanted to know that he could show up at Draco's flat any time he wanted, and not find him in bed with someone else. That hadn't happened yet, thank goodness, but Harry was terrified of it. He didn't go anywhere near Draco's flat if it wasn't one of his nights. He just didn't think he could handle seeing Draco kiss someone else at the door. Or, hell, even just seeing someone else leave might be too much.
So, Harry enjoyed the time he was allotted, and steered clear the rest of the time. He didn't like it, but it was necessary for him to keep his sanity intact.
It was the Friday before the Auror Ball, while Harry was basking in afterglow with Draco when an idea hit him. It was perfect, really. If he paid Draco enough to live on, then maybe Draco wouldn't need to keep seeing his clients.
So, the next morning, when he left his money on Draco's bedside table, he left three times the amount he normally would have.
They ate breakfast, as usual, and they decided on a time for Harry to pick Draco up. Before Harry left, as he'd begun to do lately, he walked around the table, and leaned over to kiss Draco goodbye.
As he was opening the door to leave, Draco came out of nowhere, grabbing his hand, and pushing something into it. Looking down, Harry saw that it was the extra money he'd left.
"No, I want you to keep it."
Draco was firm, "No, Harry, we decided on an amount, and we'll stick to it."
Harry pushed the money toward Draco again, and when he wouldn't take it, Harry dropped it into the pocket of Draco's robe.
"Take it. You've earned it."
Suddenly, Draco's open expression closed, and his face hardened. His lips drew into a thin line, and he crossed his arms over his chest.
"I'll see you at seven, then."
Harry was pushed unceremoniously out of Draco's flat, and left wondering what he'd done wrong.
He thought about it all day, and he still hadn't figured it out when he knocked on Draco's door. He just hoped whatever had brassed Draco off didn't ruin their night.
Harry was dressed in his best set of Auror robes, the ones every Auror was issued for formal events. And, he'd even managed to control his hair enough to get it to lay flat. He thought he looked pretty good. Then, Draco opened the front door, and Harry found it difficult to breathe for a moment.
Draco's usually sex rumpled hair was styled loosely framing his face. He was wearing a crisp, white button down shirt and perfectly pressed black trousers. His shoes were shiny and his belt matched exactly. He looked so good, that for a second, Harry considered ditching the Ball altogether.
"Ready?" Draco asked, cooler than Harry had heard from him since Hogwarts.
"Um, yeah. You look nice."
Draco shrugged, pulling on a light grey robe, before stepping out the front door. He held his arm out for Harry to take, but the moment Harry Apparated them, Draco pulled his arm away.
It only took an hour or so of Draco's standoffish behaviour for Harry to think this evening had been a bad idea. Draco barely talked to him, hardly looked at him, and flat out refused to touch him. It was so bad, that Draco disappeared into the crowd, and Harry didn't follow. He'd been hoping for a few dances tonight, but if Draco acted like this all night, it didn't seem dancing was in the cards for them.
"Hey Harry!" Ron, who'd obviously already been indulging a bit in the open bar, flopped down in the seat beside Harry.
"Hi," Harry replied, trying to be jovial and failing.
"Oh, I suppose you know then." Ron took a large gulp from his glass and winced.
"Know what?" Harry asked.
"Well, I assumed from your frown that you'd had a run in with him," Ron leaned over, whispering entirely too loudly, "Malfoy's here."
Harry could have banged his head on the table just then. He'd told Hermione who the 'mystery man' was, and had just assumed she'd break the news to Ron. She knew Harry was bringing Draco tonight, and he couldn't believe she hadn't said a word. Well, there was nothing for it Harry would just have to tell Ron himself.
"Yeah. He's here with me."
Harry waited, fully expecting Ron to scream in outrage. But, while Ron did gawp, flapping his jaw like a fish out of water, there was no yelling.
When Ron did regain his ability to speak, all he said was, "Well, someone better tell him that, because I just saw him getting awfully cosy with Anthony Goldstein."
If Ron said anything else, Harry didn't hear it. He was already up and winding through the crowd. Sure enough, on the other side of the room, there sat Draco, entirely too close to Anthony. Harry was angrier than he'd ever been in his life. It was one thing to know what Draco did. It was another thing to see it in action. And, they were supposed to be here together.
Harry didn't think; he just acted. He marched the remaining few steps towards the men, grabbed Draco by the arm, and wrenched him away. The only explanation Harry had for how easily Draco followed him to the loo, was that he was in shock. As soon as the door closed behind them, Draco tore away from him, snarling and infuriated.
"What the bloody hell do you think you're doing, Potter?"
Harry reeled, jumping back as if he'd been slapped. It had been so long since Draco had called him by his last name in that manner. Then, remembering the way Draco had been pretty much laying all over Anthony, Harry's anger resurfaced, and he surged forward.
His Auror skills kicked in, and with barely a struggle, he pressed a red faced, feral Draco into the wall.
"No, Malfoy, what the bloody hell are you doing? You're supposed to be my escort. I thought that, for this one fucking night, you might resist chatting up new clients. Or, is he a current client? Is that what you're doing? Looking to earn a little extra? Were you hoping to sneak off to the loo and earn a galleon or two?"
Harry was so mad, so horribly furious, that he couldn't control the words coming out of his mouth. He didn't really believe them, but he needed to get a rise out of the blond. But, Draco just stood there, almost like he couldn't believe Harry would say those things to him. So, Harry pushed further.
"You know, I gave you extra this morning for a reason. I was hoping to avoid this. But, I guess it's just in your nature, isn't it? You're just a fucking whore." Harry spit the last word, directly in Draco's face, and that did it.
Draco's mouth snapped shut, his eyes hardened, and every muscle in his body went taut.
Sometime during his rant, Harry's grip had loosened, and Draco's fist connected with Harry's jaw before he knew what was happening. Harry's head snapped back from the force of the blow, and Draco used that to his advantage. As Harry stumbled backwards, Draco grabbed him around the waist and tackled him to the floor.
Draco's face loomed above Harry, alight with a fire Harry hadn't witnessed for years. They struggled for breath, chests heaving both with the need for oxygen and the pure adrenaline of the moment. Draco was smaller than Harry, but he possessed a strength belied by his lithe frame. Draco's hands came up, tangling in Harry's hair painfully, and holding his head still. Hot breathe washed over Harry's face as Draco spoke.
"You don't own me, Potter. You can't buy me by dropping a few extra galleons in my pocket," Draco's words were harsh and venomous, and Harry shivered, the all too familiar pressing need to win taking hold of him again.
Harry bucked up, throwing Draco off balance, and struggling for the upper hand. They rolled and tumbled throwing punches, kicking, and growling for all they were worth. Suddenly, the last few weeks didn't seem real, but this, this wild out of control fight for dominance on a nasty bathroom floor... this was real.
Blood trickled down both their faces, and by the time Harry was seated firmly on top of Draco, he felt so fucking alive. And Draco was… God, he was so fucking perfect. Harry had forgot how good it felt, how his body could thrum with excitement just from a tussle with this man. There was one difference now, though. Harry was hard. He was hard and aching, and just wanted them naked. So, in the middle of the worst physical fight they'd ever had, Harry trapped Draco's arms to his sides, and leaned down.
Their lips met in a biting, punishing kiss. The coppery taste of blood rested heavily on Harry's tongue, but he didn't stop. He drove his tongue as far as he could into Draco's mouth, his hands grasped whatever part of Draco he could reach, and he hissed encouragement, when Draco's nails dug painfully into his back.
Though he was on bottom, Draco quickly took control, calming Harry, bringing him back to himself. His lips left Harry's mouth, and worked over the skin of his jaw. Draco's hands loosened and roamed over Harry, slipping beneath his shirt, running up and down the overheated skin.
Harry's cock was throbbing, trapped inside his trousers, straining against his zip and too many layers of clothing. He could feel an answering bulge from Draco, and he just needed; he couldn't even think for the need pulsing through him. But, there was something he needed to say.
He fought the lust taking over his mind, and panted, "I don't want to own you, Draco. I just don't want to fucking share you."
Draco moaned, but otherwise didn't answer, as he Apparated them out of the loo and into his flat. They landed on Draco's bedroom floor, and Draco wasted no time getting them naked. Then Draco's fingers were pressing into Harry, stretching him, filling him. Harry arched and writhed, sweating profusely, as Draco prepared him. Harry was still on top, and he lifted up to his knees and sank onto Draco's cock with a whimper. He gripped Draco's shoulders, using the leverage to ride Draco slowly, rolling his hips, and taking Draco deeper with every downward motion.
Draco's hands gripped Harry's sides, holding him tightly. Draco's face was still a bit bloody, and his hair was sweaty. He looked out of sorts and lost to pleasure. He was more attractive in that moment than he'd ever been.
Harry used his hold on Draco's shoulders to pull him up, so that Draco was sitting, and Harry was in his lap. He wrapped his arms around Draco's neck, and latched his lips onto Draco's, kissing him fiercely, administering little nips to his already sore lips.
Draco grunted, as Harry began to fuck himself harder on Draco's cock. They were still moving painfully slowly, but he took Draco so deeply into him, that Harry could feel Draco everywhere. It hurt so good, and Harry could hardly breathe due to the intensity of their coupling.
Draco moaned, arching and pressing upward; he held Harry's hips still, and buried himself as far as he could inside of Harry. They were so still, and Harry felt Draco's cock pulse, felt Draco's release. It was surreal, staring into those grey eyes, and watching Draco's face contort in pleasure. Draco groaned, twitched once, and fell back, completely wrung out.
But, Harry was still aching, still desperate with the need to come. He took himself in hand, still seated firmly on Draco's cock, and began to pull. He stroked himself quickly, and in seconds, his orgasm was upon him. Fisting himself with abandon, biting his busted lip hard enough to cause him to bleed again, Harry came. He painted Draco's chest and stomach with his release, spurt after spurt marking that pale skin.
As Harry began to relax, Draco pulled him down, kissing him gently, and carding his fingers through Harry's hair. It was sticky and wet, and Harry grimaced, both from the pain in his split lip, and the mess between them.
"Ugh," Harry groaned, trying to rise up.
"Shhh, not yet," Draco whispered, and the shaky quality of his voice held Harry captive.
Harry was so tired, so entirely spent, and he ached in all the right places, and a few odd ones. His lip was killing him, and he was sure he had a black eye blooming. Draco's chest was a bit bony, and given that Draco's cock had just slipped from his body, he knew he was leaking. But, despite all of it, Harry felt calm and wonderfully sated.
Draco was soft and pliant beneath Harry, and it helped him find the courage he needed to address a few things. He needed to know what all this was for Draco, and now seemed as good a time as any.
"I know you don't kiss your other clients," Draco stiffened slightly, but Harry rubbed a hand softly down Draco's chest and felt some of the tension leave his body.
"You're correct," But, Draco didn't say anything further.
"I also know that you don't take clients into your bedroom, and you don't allow them to spend the night."
Draco held his breath, and Harry rose up to look him in the eye.
"So, what is this? Am I a client? Or…"
"Or what?" Draco asked.
Steeling himself for rejection, Harry said, "Are we lovers?"
Draco scoffed, but it sounded empty, scared, trapped. He tried to sit up, but Harry remained steady keeping Draco under him, holding him still.
"Look, Potter, if you insist on having this ridiculous conversation, let's do it with our clothes on, shall we?"
Harry shook his head and allowed one of his hands to roam over Draco's chest.
"I like you like this, so vulnerable and naked."
Draco turned his head away, clenching his jaw, and staring at the wall.
"Please just answer me? If it makes this any easier I want us to be. God, I do, so much. That's why I left extra money this morning. I wasn't trying to own you… Or, I guess, in my own stupid way, maybe I was. I don't know. I just know the thought of you with anyone else makes me so angry," Harry's hand moved upward, cupping Draco's cheek, and trying to turn his face, but Draco would have none of it.
Harry sighed, "I thought if you didn't need the money, maybe you'd stop seeing them. I just… I want you. I want you all to myself. I'm greedy, but fuck, I think I've earned the right to be a least a little selfish. I want us to be lovers, Draco, and I want to be your only lover."
Draco laughed, a choked, humourless sound that gave Harry a chill.
"You think I do this for the money? I have a small fortune squirreled away. I don't need to fuck the likes of Neville Longbottom to survive, Potter. I do it because I enjoy it. I do it because I'm good at it. I do it because… because…" Draco's voice broke, and Harry could no longer look at the pained expression on his face.
Harry lowered himself, once again, to Draco's chest. He rested his ear directly over Draco's heart, and let himself just listen for a moment, before he said anything. Once Draco's pulse had slowed some, Harry prodded.
"Why, Draco? Why do you do this?"
There was a huff, and then the body below Harry shuddered once just before Draco spoke.
"Because, for those few hours, I'm connected to someone. There's a warm body under me, someone in my bed who actually wants to be there. There's heated flesh, and throaty moans, and pleasure so deep it warms me from the inside out. It doesn't matter who it is, or it didn't used to matter."
"It does now?"
"Merlin help me, but it does," it was barely a whisper, but Harry heard and understood.
They were silent for a long while. Harry was processing this new information that Draco actually enjoyed his job. While at the same time, he was bubbling with excitement over Draco's admission. There might be hope for them yet.
"You were the first person I've ever kissed." It came out of nowhere, breaking the silence between them like a gong. Harry could scarcely believe he'd heard correctly.
"You're taking the piss."
"I'm most certainly am not. It wasn't like there was opportunity or even desire really, to engage in such mundane activities while we were in school. Then, I started this straight out of the trials. I couldn't kiss any of them. So many of them fancy themselves in love with me anyway. And, I just couldn't add fuel to that. But you… I knew, that day you first showed up, if I didn't do something drastic, you would walk out, and I'd never hear from you again. So, I kissed you. Then, I didn't want to stop kissing you. It was like waking up. I'd never felt so in tune with someone before. So yeah, I kissed you to get your attention, but I kept kissing you because I could do nothing else."
Draco's words hung heavy in the air, filling Harry a sense of awe so deep he didn't know how to respond. Finally, he cleared his throat, and made a suggestion that would give them both a little time to think.
"We should shower."
There'd be no need for talking with the warm water beating down on them. And, Harry really did need to wash up. The dried blood on his face was beginning to itch, and he was uncomfortably messy down below.
Draco didn't respond, but when Harry stood and held out a hand, Draco eyed it for a moment, as if weighing his options, and then he accepted. His fingers wrapped around Harry's and Harry pulled him to his feet.
Draco's face was sombre, dark with something Harry didn't understand, and it worried him. But, Draco pressed a soft kiss to Harry lips before leading the way to the loo, and it eased Harry's anxiety a bit.
The shower was hot and perfect, erasing all their aches from fighting, and then shagging on the floor. The water ran slightly pink for a few moments, but the blood washed away quickly enough. When Draco reached up to lather Harry's hair, he practically melted forward into the tiles. Draco had such wonderfully nimble hands, and he hit all the right spots on Harry's scalp.
"Massage therapy." Draco said, the words almost muffled by the water.
"I've studied Massage therapy, and I know quite a lot about pressure points on the human body. It's the reason you feel so relaxed with me. It's why I'm so good at what I do."
Harry smiled at the insecurity hiding just under Draco's tiny boast.
"It's one of the reasons. It also helps that you are a fantastic kisser, you have an amazing cock, and you're bloody gorgeous. Not to mention, kind of nice, when you want to be."
Draco laughed, seemingly a little more at ease.
"You know, I've never let any of the rest of them undress me, either. And, you're the only person who's ever given me a blowjob. No one else has ever offered, though I wouldn't have turned them down."
Heat hotter than the water rushing over them crept up Harry's body at Draco's words. It was amazing to him that the only people Draco had ever been with were his clients. He was sure there were a lot of them, but still, he'd never been with anyone who really cared about him.
As the last of the suds were rinsed from Harry's hair, he turned, grabbing the bottle, and switching places with Draco. Harry had made up his mind about a few things. He didn't know if their relationship, if that was what it was, could last after this naked honesty between them, but he wanted to try. And, even if it couldn't last, Draco had given him so much, helped him through something he thought he'd never do, and Harry owed him. The money? That was nothing. Draco deserved to be taken care of just as he'd done for Harry.
Harry lathered Draco's hair slowly, not sure he was as effective as Draco at inducing relaxation, but Draco moaned nonetheless. Once he'd lathered, he rinsed, and then soaped his hands. He used his slick hands to wash Draco's body. He slid them over slightly bony shoulders, toned arms, a slim waist, and down muscular thighs. He massaged at Draco's back and arse, enjoying the play of muscles under pale skin, as Draco arched beneath his touch.
Then, he spun Draco slowly, and took in the front of his body. Dusky nipples stood out, pebbled and begging for Harry's tongue. Draco's chest heaved as his laboured breath puffed between them, fanning out over Harry's face, and exciting Harry further.
Harry let his eyes fall downward, and moaned at the way Draco's stomach quivered under his gaze, and how very hard Draco's cock was. It jutted out from a nest of light blond curls, straining toward Harry, and leaking fluid that mixed with the water and disappeared as soon as it had formed. Harry groaned, this man would be the death of him. But, what a way to go.
He soaped his hands again, and started with Draco's neck. He rubbed gently at the corded muscles, feeling Draco tense only minutely under his touch. Then, he moved down, kneading Draco's chest, and flicking lightly over those tiny nipples. Draco bit his lip, whimpered, and pressed forward, trying to find contact with Harry's body. Harry did not oblige. He kept himself at a distance, and gently pushed Draco back. Draco whined, but Harry only smiled, his hands drifting lower on Draco's body.
He wanted to badly to stop and stroke Draco's shaft, give him the relief he needed. But, that needed to wait. Harry worked up and down Draco's legs, patting each foot one at a time for Draco to lift to be washed. Harry was thorough, wiggling his fingers between Draco's toes, and making sure to wash each sole.
When he was satisfied with the cleanliness of Draco's legs and feet, he finally moved upward. He didn't touch Draco's cock yet, though. Instead, he pressed at Draco's thighs, urging them apart, and with newly soaped hands, he tenderly cupped Draco's sac.
"Oh god," Draco breathed, throwing his head back and almost collapsing against the shower wall, "Feels so good."
Draco shivered, closing his eyes, and pushing his hips out, desperately seeking more attention from Harry.
Harry rolled each ball slowly, gently, watching the expressions of disbelieve, joy, and need pass over Draco's face. Little splotches of red that had nothing to do with the hot water began to break out over Draco's chest and face. His lips parted, and he sprayed little droplets of water with every exhale. His eyes were squeezed shut, and his fingers clawed uselessly at the tiled wall, as Harry worked him over slowly. He looked beautifully amazed, and it made Harry's heart swell to have been the cause of it.
When he felt Draco could take no more, Harry gave in, wrapping his hand around Draco's length, and stroking. He started off slowly, one hand stroking Draco's cock, and the other still rolling his sac. But, as Draco's hips began to pump, Harry lost his contact with Draco's balls. He worked his other hand faster, harder, as Draco's needy moans increased in volume and urgency. When he felt the first pulse of Draco's cock, Harry used his free hand to pull Draco's head forward, sealing their lips together in a sensual kiss that curled Harry's toes as much as Draco's.
Draco's seed spilled out over Harry's hand, squeezing between his fingers, and dripping down his wrist. In seconds, the thick fluid was swept away, and they were clean once again.
Draco panted heavily, his head still resting against Harry's shoulder were it had fallen during his orgasm. Harry held him tightly, running his fingertips up and down Draco's spine.
"Wow," Draco sighed, a half laugh escaping him, "that was brilliant."
"Yeah," Harry breathed, still a bit in awe of the moment. Somehow, that had felt more intimate than anything else.
"Let's get out of here. I want to take you to the bed and suck your cock until you scream."
Harry's prick jumped in anticipation, and he quite liked the idea, but there were still so many things unsaid between them. Harry was terrified they'd keep letting sex get in the way of actually talking.
"Can we, maybe, discuss a few things first?"
Draco nibbled at Harry's neck, drawing a lustful moan from Harry.
"After. We'll talk after. You're so hard, Harry. You won't be able to think straight. Let me suck you first, I'll make you feel so good."
"Please, Draco. Please just talk to me. You can't avoid this. I need to know… I want a relationship with you. I want to be able to drop by your flat at any time of day, on any day of the week, and not have to worry about seeing one of your other clients. I want to know that I'm the only man you're sharing a bed with. And, I want us to share a bed more than just twice a week. I want you in bed with me as often as possible. God, I want us to go out, and hold hands, and kiss, and I won't even care if pictures of us end up all over the Prophet. I just… I want you."
Sometime during Harry's speech, Draco had cut the water off, and they were standing just inches away from each other, shivering as the water cooled on their skin. Harry stared into Draco's unreadable eyes, and Draco's silence only increased Harry's anxiety.
"Say something! Anything. Tell me I'm stupid. Tell me it will never work. Hell, tell me you hate me, if that's what you're thinking. But, don't just stand there. Please." Harry heard his voice break, knew he was close to tears, but there was nothing he could do to stop it.
Draco bit his lip, raising one hand to run a finger softly across Harry's collarbone, back and forth. After a moment, Draco let his gaze drop to follow the progression of his finger, and spoke.
"You are stupid. You're completely barmy, and I'm sure you could do with a trip to St. Mungo's to get your head checked. Do you even know what would happen if we started seeing each other publicly? Do you know how your adoring fans would react? Can you imagine how many of my clients would rush to sell their story? It would be a circus."
"I'm not asking any of that. I know what we'd be up against. I'm asking if you want the same things. If we are together on this I can deal with all that."
When Draco only continued to worry his lip, so hard he almost drew blood again, Harry sighed and ducked out from underneath his arms. He quickly dried himself, leaving Draco standing, still naked, in the shower. Wrapping a towel around his waist, he walked into the bedroom, and began gathering his clothes. He fought any emotion that tried to surface. He would not break down here. He had to get home. There was nothing here for him. Either Draco really didn't want him, or he was too weak to stand up and fight for them. Either way, Harry needed to get out, as soon as possible.
Draco's voice startled him from the doorway, "I do want that. I want it so much. Do you want to know how thrilled I was when Longbottom told me you were interested in my services? It was like… it was a fucking dream come true. I've wanted you longer than I wish to say, and I was over the bloody moon. I still am, every time you walk through my door. I'd give it up. I'd give it all up for you. But, and god do I hate to admit this, I'm terrified. I'm scared to death that it'll be too much for you. I'll be a burden too heavy for you to carry. I can't walk away from this, only to have you walk away from me. I don't want your money, I never did. But, I'd rather have you in secret than not at all."
Harry spun around so fast he almost lost his balance. The clothes in his hands fell to the floor, and in three strides he was standing in front of Draco, hands hovering just above his shoulders.
"You don't have to make that choice. We can have all that. It won't be easy. There will be people at every turn trying to stop us. We'll fight like cats and dogs. Sometimes, I dare say, we'll even hate each other. But, after all we've been through, after all I've seen you rise above, after the war and Voldemort, and the trials, and the rebuilding, and all the craziness… God, Draco, this will be easy for us. Don't you think, if we can survive all that, we can fight for something we want? Fuck, something we've bloody well earned? And, we did earn it. If anyone deserves to be happy, to live their lives the way they want, it's us."
Harry took a deep breath, winded from his long speech, and waited. If Draco said no, if he hesitated for too long, Harry would leave. He'd leave, and he wouldn't return. Draco might have been fine with the status quo, but Harry was not.
"You really don't mind the world knowing that your boyfriend is, not only a reformed Death Eater, but a former prostitute? Because, that's all they'll see. It's all they'll care about." Draco lifted his left arm, practically shoving it into Harry's face.
There, in stark contrast against Draco's very pale skin, was the Dark Mark. For a moment, Harry just stared. He'd known Draco had it; he supposed he'd even seen it, as often as they been naked together recently. But, this was the first time he'd actually thought about it, looked at it so closely.
Harry found he couldn't hate it. The most he could do was wish Draco had never been subjected to such pain and heartbreak. Looking Draco directly in the eye, Harry pulled the arm closer to him. He placed a tender kiss on the inside of Draco's wrist, and then ran the tip of his tongue up the middle of the Mark.
"I don't care," Harry whispered vehemently against Draco's moist skin, enunciating every word very carefully.
Draco shuddered, closed his eyes, and nodded once. But, that wasn't enough. Harry needed some kind of verbal confirmation. He needed to know that Draco was in this with him, and that there would be no more clients. He needed to know they were together, no matter what.
"Tell me. Tell me what you want. Tell me you're mine and you won't see anyone else."
Draco's eyes opened then, a fire burning in them the likes of which Harry had never seen.
"I haven't been seeing anyone else since the first time you were here. But, there's something you should know as well. I may be yours, but you belong to me just as surely."
Draco's lips descended on Harry's, and they were kissing, tongues duelling for dominance, and groaning into each other's mouths. Draco's hands gripped Harry's hair, guiding him backwards, towards the bed. This was just as much as fight as their tussle in the bathroom, except this war was waged with tongues, teeth, and wandering hands.
They fell onto the bed in a tangled heap of limbs, but in seconds, Draco had Harry on his hands and knees. That sinful mouth found its way to Harry's entrance, and Harry clutched at a pillow as Draco's tongue invaded him again and again.
Harry was already open and ready from their hurried fuck earlier, but still, Draco took his time. His tongue probed and curled, savouring Harry as if he were a treat. Harry moaned, bit at his sore lips, and buried his face in the bed. He could hardly contain himself; it was just so fucking good. Then, Draco's cock was nudging at his hole, and it just got better. The burn of Draco entering him was exquisite, and Harry relished it.
As soon as he was seated fully inside of Harry, Draco leaned over him, aligning their bodies perfectly, and lacing their fingers together. Their bodies writhed together, one continuously rolling motion that sent sparks of pleasure dancing through Harry's body.
Draco's cock dragged over Harry's prostate on each gentle thrust, causing wave after wave of lust to sweep over him. Harry's cock dripped steadily, and he ached to wrap his hand around it. But, every time he tried to loosen Draco's grip on his hands, Draco held even tighter. Harry whined, his need so prevalent that he couldn't even think.
Draco chuckled, low, dark and so very dirty, "No, Harry. I'm going to fuck you until you come."
Harry shook his head, still fighting to get a hand free, but Draco wouldn't allow it.
"I can make you come like this, without even touching your cock. You've never felt anything like it. Let me."
Draco's mouth sucked at Harry's neck for just a moment, before he finally released Harry's hands, and rose up to grip Harry's hips. Though Harry still desperately wanted to touch himself, he refrained, just barely.
And, it didn't take long for Draco to do exactly as he'd said. Harry's back arched and bowed of its own accord, his body riding the pleasure without any thought from him. As the heat built and pooled in his stomach, Harry spread his legs wider, pushed back against Draco, and tried to take him as deeply as he could.
Finally, reduced to nothing but a quivering, moaning mass of need so strong it hurt, Harry came with a cry. His cock jerked, untouched, beneath him, and he spilled, shooting long, ropey spurts over the bed. And, Draco was right. Nothing, nothing, had ever felt so bloody amazing.
This time, when he collapsed, he fell right into his own mess, and he didn't give a fuck. Draco slipped from his body, and Harry hardly even registered the first spray of come that landed over his arse and back.
"Ugh," Draco grunted, as he fell to the bed beside Harry, "Brilliant."
Harry snorted, "Understatement."
Draco traced a fingertip up and down Harry's spine, unmindful of the mess on Harry's back. They'd definitely need another shower. When Harry turned to look at him, Draco looked shagged out and blissful, and Harry smiled. Then, as if a switch had been flipped, Draco's expression changed. He looked pensive.
"Does it bother you that…" Draco trailed off, swallowing hard.
"Does what bother me?" Harry asked, sitting up and wincing when his arse twinged.
"That I'm always on top?"
Harry laughed, "Are you kidding me? Not at all. I'm perfectly fine with it. I encourage it even."
Draco looked relieved for just an instant, and then he smirked.
"Potter, I think, what you mean to say is that I have a magnificent cock, and you'd love to have it stuffed up your arse as often as possible."
Grinning, and too ridiculously happy to argue, - and what was there to argue about anyway? – Harry replied, "You know, Malfoy, I think you just might be on to something. Though, right now, all I want is another shower. And, maybe a few healing spells, for both of us."