Author's note: This is a birthday fic for one of my dearest friends, pokeyspot. Happy birthday, honey!

Now originally this was supposed to be a oneshot, but I kind of got carried away with my writing *coughs* and so I had to cut it into two chapters, because I wasn't sure people would have liked to read a story that was more than 17 000 words long. So yeah, I cut it into two chapters.

I also seem to have developed a liking to creating oneshots made up of various scenes. I don't know, it seemed to fit for this story.

Warnings: Angst (a fair amount of it - I can't seem to make fluffy birthday oneshots *pouts*), a bit OOC, drama, foul language, MPreg, a Draco who will do anything to get the one he loves (so it will turn dark at some moments). Oh and not edited by anyone else but me. I hope to have it edited soon, but I apologize in advance for any mistakes you might find.

Also, the unedited version of this story can be found on adultfanfiction dot net under the penname Sasunarufan13 for anyone who is interested.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. Everything belongs to J.K. Rowling.

Pokeyspot, I hope you'll enjoy your long birthday fic! *hugs* And to the rest of the readers, I hope you'll enjoy it as well :)

Part 1

Harry had always been someone who liked to please others. He supposed it stemmed from his childhood when he still had naively thought that if he just did everything his family asked of him, just tried a bit harder to be perfect, tried a bit more to make himself lovable that his family would stop treating him like dirt and would accept him as part of their family.

Of course that never had happened. The Dursleys still hated him after all the things he did for them and even now four years after the war had ended, he hadn't tried to find them. He was finally free of them and didn't fancy hearing Vernon's snide remarks again.

But he still did his best to please others. Still tried to be as perfect as possible so that people would love him, and not the hero the public made him out to be.

His eagerness to please was especially obvious in his romantic relationships. After he had discovered he liked boys just a tad bit more than girls when he was eighteen, he had been looking out for a guy who would be able to love him.

The first guy he had a serious relationship with, was a Scot named William Lansbrook. He had nice blue eyes that often twinkled mischievously; a dimple in his right cheek whenever he smiled or chuckled; messy dark copper hair and a very nice body, a reward from the long hours of Quidditch he played.

Harry had been incredibly happy with him. William didn't seem to care for the fact that he was dating a celebrity and endured the paparazzi whenever they caught them going out on a date. He had seemed like the perfect guy, despite his flaws, like not cleaning up after himself; going to sleep late and then not waking up on time. But Harry reasoned, nobody was perfect and he liked William very much. He could put up with the flaws because they weren't that bad.

They had been together for seven months when William told him one evening he wanted to break up with him. To say Harry had been shocked was an understatement, because he hadn't seen that news coming at all. He couldn't think of anything that would have displeased William and had asked the other man tentatively why exactly he wanted to break up. The reason had left Harry dumbfounded: because he hadn't been willing to put out even though they were already seven months together. William told him he was frustrated by Harry's "teasing" and refusal to go further than just hugging and kissing and he was fed up with it.

Harry had been left in shock behind in his small apartment while William went back to Scotland.

Experiencing his first real heart break hadn't been pleasant at all and it was only thanks to his best friends that he had stopped moping around and had went back to dating. However, somehow he had gotten it stuck in his mind that if he had just given William what he wanted, or at least more than what he had been given him, then the man wouldn't have broken up with him. He resolved to be a better boyfriend to the next guy he had a relationship with.

That next guy turned out to be an American wizard, called Michael Bloomsbane, who had been on a holiday in England and whom Harry had met when they had bumped into each other at a small bookstore in London. After apologizing profusely and Michael laughing it off, they had drank a coffee together. Three weeks full of meetings later and they were an item.

Michael had wavy chocolate brown hair and deep blue eyes, which had a tendency to make Harry flush whenever they looked at him intently. Remembering why William had dumped him, Harry bought a book full with tips about gay sex and set on reading that one completely, not wanting to disappoint Michael once he would start to pleasure him.

Although he didn't feel ready yet to go to bed with Michael, since they only were together for two months, Harry thought it would be better if he at least gave something to his boyfriend that was more than just hugging and kissing.

So Michael was the first guy he gave oral to. He hadn't really liked it; it had been weird and at the end it had left a bitter and tangy taste behind and his cheeks had felt sore, not to mention his throat, but he had been proud of himself to have taken that step. Plus the fact that he had made his boyfriend climax, made him feel good as well. He could put up with the bitter taste and the sore throat if it meant Michael was happy with him.

Two months after Harry had taken the next step in his relationship, Michael dumped him after they had eaten at a fancy restaurant. It turned out that it didn't matter to Michael that he had been the first guy with whom Harry had taken the next step with and that therefore Harry wasn't perfect in pleasuring him. He plain out told Harry with a sneer on his otherwise gentle face, that he was sick of having crappy blowjobs and that for someone so famous and so powerful, he absolutely sucked (no pun intended) at pleasuring someone else. He left that same day to America again.

It had taken his friends almost two months to convince him to get his act together again and stop avoiding the outside world. After of course they had offered to hex the crap out of the asshole that had made their friend miserable.

For a while Harry stayed single after things had ended with Michael, being far too wary of other men after two disastrous relationship endings. Despite the fact that he had been dumped twice for ridiculous reasons, he hadn't given up hope yet on finding his true love. He just wasn't actively seeking it.

He had just turned twenty-one when a new guy managed to tear his defences down and made him believe he had finally found someone he could spend his life with. His name was Eric Greywater and he had been a Ravenclaw, two years older than Harry.

They had met each other on the yearly memorial held to celebrate Voldemort's death. Harry had sneaked away from the celebrations, not feeling in the mood to accept the many felicitations and offers of gratitude that most people still insisted on giving him, even after four years after the war. Of course there were also the sneers of people who didn't agree with his choice in partners, but he had never given a damn about the constantly changing view of the public on him. He just didn't want to deal with them now.

He had been hiding underneath a big oak tree, when Eric had discovered him. Eric had escaped the festivities as well, having gotten bored of hearing the same speech said over and over again only in slightly different wording.

They had both been surprised when they saw each other and Harry had been prepared to leave until Eric lightly had asked him whether he could hide with him from the crazy fans.

For some reason that had brought a smile on Harry's face and he had shuffled sideways so he could make some space for Eric.

They had talked about everything that came to their mind, avoiding topics as Voldemort and the war itself, not wanting to taint their light chatter with such heavy subjects.

Harry discovered that he quite liked Eric's sarcastic wit and the way his eyes lit up when he was talking about his younger sister who had chosen to study at Beauxbatons and who would start her last year in September. The way he spoke of the girl was very fond and it was obvious they had a great sibling bond despite the many pranks they played on each other.

For the first time Harry had been disappointed when the festivities had ended, certain he wouldn't see Eric again. That was until Eric had suddenly given him a small scrap of paper with his Floo address on it and the question whether they could meet up again.

Despite still feeling a bit wary, Harry had agreed to meet up with him again two weeks later. Granted, his friends had also kind of pushed him to accept the invitation, encouraging him to meet up with Eric, stating it would do him good to go out again.

Eric had taken him to a magical zoo, and Harry had been excited to discover the various magical creatures, safely from behind wards. They had ended the day with a delicious meal, served in a small, cosy restaurant, which was further down the street.

Like a gentleman, Eric had brought Harry back to his front door and there they had kissed for the first time, while butterflies fluttered around in Harry's stomach. Eric had left afterwards, with the promise he would visit Harry the day after again.

Harry thought he had hit the jackpot with Eric. Eric was everything he could ever want for and more; gentle, sweet, funny, gorgeous, good with children as he had proven when he had met Teddy for the first time after four months of dating. Harry couldn't believe he had ever thought he had loved Michael; what he had had with Michael and William was nothing more than a silly crush in comparison to what he felt for Eric.

Even Ron and Hermione had taken a liking to Eric – despite their insistence that Harry accepted Eric's invitation, they had been wary of the man, ready to hurt him at the merest hint of him hurting Harry. Instead they saw how happy the ex Ravenclaw made their friend and in turn they accepted him in their circle of friends. Hermione was delighted to discover she could discuss the rights of various magical creatures with Eric and Ron had found another big fan of the Chudley Cannons, and so they often could be found discussing the team whenever Harry and Eric met up with him and Hermione.

When they were together for six months, Harry felt ready to sleep with Eric. It had been painful, but perfect in the end and he had been glad he had waited instead of giving it up to Michael or William.

Yes, Harry loved Eric with everything in him and he wanted to show that. Wanted to show everyone that they belonged together and loved each other. So two months before Harry would turn twenty two, he had visited a jewellery shop and the saleslady had been all too happy to help the famous Harry Potter picking out a suitable ring for his partner.

To make sure he wouldn't be interrupted before he was ready, Harry told Eric he would be busy that weekend, helping George with the shop and babysitting Teddy in the evening. In reality, he was cooking a (hopefully) delicious meal and having borrowed the nicest dishes and cutlery from Hermione, he had set up the table, lightening up a few candles as well.

He put the ring in his pocket and had taken a moment to calm himself, not wanting to ruin the surprise by making his lover suspicious.

Remembering Eric would be at home because he wanted to catch up on some work, he used the Floo to arrive at his place, thinking that soon they would be living together if Eric accepted his proposal. Butterflies raced in his stomach at the thought of living in one house together.

He had landed in the living room and after checking downstairs, he came to the conclusion his boyfriend was probably upstairs. His suspicion was proven when he heard a soft thump above his head.

Smiling excitedly, he made his way upstairs, thinking it would be fun to surprise Eric.

He managed to surprise him, alright. Eric managed to surprise him as well. Shock was a better description.

He had opened the door with a big smile, a smile that had frozen when he came face to face with something he thought he would never see: Eric screwing a nameless, blond guy quite enthusiastically on his bed. Harry had idly noted that Eric had never shown him that particular face during the times they had made love.

"Harry!" Eric had stopped trusting, shocked to find his boyfriend standing in the doorway. "This is …"

"Not what it looks like?" Harry had finished his sentence, his voice empty of emotions. He had felt numb, his brain trying to understand what the hell was happening.

"I – I think … I'll just leave." The blond had muttered, his cheeks flaming red in embarrassment. When he had hooked up with the handsome wizard, he hadn't expected to be discovered by his boyfriend. The blond had quickly dressed and had fled down the stairs, the door slamming shut behind him, leaving an awkward atmosphere behind.

Eric had slid underneath the sheets, not knowing what to do next. What did one say after being caught screwing another guy?

"Why?" Harry had asked after a long moment of silence. He had thought they had a perfect relationship; they never had any fights, something which Hermione was a bit envious off, though she wouldn't trade Ron for anything in the world. They had a good sex life – at least that's what Harry had assumed. Obviously something had gone wrong. Again.

He started to get the feeling that he wasn't able to keep his boyfriends interested in him. How pathetic was that?

"Harry …" Eric had stood up, stretching out his arm as if to touch Harry.

Harry had stumbled back, his emerald green eyes darkening in fury. "Why the hell did you do this?!"

"Because you're boring, alright!" Eric had snapped and had then blinked, as if he hadn't expected that to come out of his mouth.

His mouth had opened a few times and closed again, his brain trying to understand the words. "Boring? How …"

"Always doing it in the same position; never wanting to go dance or so; never do something spontaneous. I could go on and on, but the fact stays that you're utterly boring in bed and outside of it." Eric had exploded, his cheeks red in anger and frustration. "Can you blame me for wanting something else?"

Yes, yes, he could blame him. But he didn't have the energy for it.

"Whatever." Harry had sighed and turned around. "You're free to go find someone else exciting then." And if he had sounded bitter when he had said that, well, not like he could be blamed, right?

He had gone back home, had searched Eric's stuff, had thrown it together in a box and then had sent it through Floo to his ex-boyfriend, before closing his Floo to this particular address.

The ring he had given to Luna, who had found it very beautiful and who had started chattering about how the sparkle of it would help attract the Nungles. Harry had just been glad to get rid of it.

His relationship with Eric had been the last one he had. After the break up, he had wallowed in self-misery for a few months, before he had decided that love just wasn't meant for him apparently. He had wanted for so long to have what Hermione and Ron had together: the beautiful love, trust, happiness … But it seemed that that kind of fairy tale love wasn't something he would ever experience.

His friends had soothed him, said he was still young and would find the perfect guy one day. He just had to give it some time. But on this subject, Harry wouldn't budge. After three failed relationships, which always seemed to end because the men weren't satisfied with him, he vowed he would never let himself be hurt like that again. The heartache simply wasn't worth it. He rather be deprived of a lover and be spared the heartache, than giving his heart to someone else again and get it back trampled and spit on.

He was aware he sounded bitter and three failed relationships weren't anything to get bitter about – some people had gone through more before they found someone – but to him, it was all perfectly clear that no matter what he did, his partner would always find something faulty about him.

He refused to be humiliated and insulted again. He still had some self-pride left.

Eight months after he broke up with Eric, Harry could be found in various dance clubs, flirting with any guy he took a liking to at that moment. If a guy was lucky enough to attract his attention, Harry would stop at nothing to get his attention. Once he had it, and had confirmed that guy was interested in him, he would suggest they go to the guy's house for a fun night.

And that was all they would get. After the fun was over, and the guy was sleeping, Harry would sneak out the house, returning to his own, without leaving any kind of note for the bloke to contact him. If, for some miracle, Harry decided he quite liked shagging a particular guy, he would go to his house for as long as he liked the guy. However, there were no dates, no meetings during the day. Only at night they would meet and Harry was interested in only one thing. He was done with love. He only wanted to have fun now.

Of course there were men who fancied themselves in love with him and who were convinced they were made for each other. They were quickly rid of that conviction by Harry and if they dared to persist, they would be met by a nasty hex, which made the unfortunate guys retreat hastily.

There had been one guy who had developed an obsession with Harry and had eventually turned to stalking him, but the Aurors had quickly arrested him when it turned out he had even been planning to kill Harry just so they could be together. He was now serving a life long imprisonment in Azkaban.

Yes, Harry had turned his back to love and had built walls around him that even his best friends didn't manage to tear down. He gave his heart to nobody and was always in control.

Too bad one certain blond would force him to change his life …

Four years later (age 26)

"Blaise, tell me again why you thought it would be a good idea to go to this … establishment?" Draco asked, disdain and exasperation clearly audible in his voice.

The two men were sitting at a large, shiny bar, music blasting in their ears (to talk one had to put a Muffle bubble around them), while other people were amusing themselves on the dance floor.

The dance club, named Midnight Wonder, had opened his doors one year ago and had proven to be very popular. It was located in the middle of London and only wizards and witches were able to see the huge building – the Muggles who passed by, were made to believe the building belonged to a wealthy family that was set on having privacy.

To cater to the needs of their clients, Midnight Wonder had rented several floors: the down floor contained the dance floor and the bar; the second floor was a small restaurant for those who wanted to enjoy a nice meal before they would join the dancing mass downstairs; the third floor were the toilets with a security guard to make sure that nobody stayed behind in the toilets to either do or sell drugs or other activities that didn't have to do with relieving themselves; the fourth till the tenth floor were all single rooms with a king size bed and a nightstand filled with protection potions. Those floors resembled a hotel, which was exactly what Midnight Wonder wanted it to be. Clients who were tired, too drunk or had found someone they wanted to spend the night with (or just a quickie) could go up to one of those rooms and make use of it. The door was sealed with a bubble that snapped into place as soon as the client activated the spell. It wouldn't open before the client was ready or in case there was danger.

To go to each floor, moving stairs were put into place, which were behind a single white door, located next to the bar. Behind the door were six staircases; the client only had to mention the number of the floor and the stairs would take him or her there immediately.

While Midnight Wonder was very tolerable, it had a few rules in place: no drugs, be it either selling or using; no violence; no discrimination; not bringing others in danger. If one broke a rule, they were evicted out of the building and would never be allowed to visit it again.

"You need to relax once in a while." Blaise grinned, his dark eyes glittering in amusement. "I thought you would have loosened up after finally divorcing that ice statue you called your wife, but it seems I have to help you with that."

Grey eyes rolled up in annoyance, the owner of them once again wondering why the hell he had followed Blaise and had not up more of a fight.

Draco and Astoria Greengrass had been married for four years, thanks to Lucius' insistence that Draco should provide an heir for him. Their relationship had been cool at best and downright icy at their worst. They didn't like each other, let alone love. They had tried for two years to conceive a child, until they finally had swallowed their pride and had gone to a Healer to figure out why they couldn't conceive.

It turned out that nothing was wrong with their bodies – except that Astoria's magic had manipulated her body into not receiving Draco's seed because unconsciously she hadn't wanted to conceive a child with Draco. A child would have tied them together forever, and that prospect was apparently too much for her.

They had lasted another two years before bitterness and hatred had taken reign over their marriage and they filed for a divorce, ignoring Lucius' protests. Narcissa hadn't chosen a side, but she had let her son know that he had to do whatever would make him happy.

It was times like those that he was grateful to have a mother like her.

"So you brought me here." Draco's voice was flat. "Marvellous idea."

Blaise chuckled and nudged his shoulder, ignoring the dark glower he received in return. "Lighten up a bit, would you? It won't hurt to relax a bit. I'm certain you'll be able to find someone in here, who meets your high standards." He snorted.

Another glare was thrown in his direction, but he didn't acknowledge that one, his attention occupied by a curvy brunette, who had appeared next to him at the bar. "Why hello there, beautiful." He purred and the woman looked at him, a blush appearing on her cheeks when she took in his handsome face.

"Oh, for the love of Merlin." Draco muttered annoyed and removed the Muffle bubble. He had no desire to hear Blaise flirting with that stupid bint.

He turned around on his round chair and surveyed the dance floor. The crowd was dancing wildly on a song he didn't recognize. Because the club wasn't restricted to only straight people, there were also women dancing with other women, and men dancing with men. Which suited the blond just fine, considering he had discovered in his fourth year at Hogwarts, that while he did like women, he liked men just a bit more.

Maybe he should try to find some bloke, go to a room upstairs and shag him silly before returning back home. It had been a while since he last had a lover.

His gaze roomed over the crowd, trying to find someone good looking enough for him to take upstairs.

So far nobody had caught his attention yet. It wasn't like most of them were ugly; they were just … mediocre looking. There was nothing special about those people that made them stand out.

It would be just his luck that the one night he was here, there would be nobody good enough to attract his attention. Maybe he should just …

Wait, what?

Draco blinked and turned his head back to his right, staring at one particular guy who was dancing alone at the edge of the dance floor. His eyes were closed, but Draco would never forget how he looked, after spending almost seven years trying to get a rise out of the idiot.

Harry Potter had grown up very nicely. Whereas before he had worn clothing that had resembled rags and had been gangly; he had put on some weight, and had obviously been working out. The tight blue T-shirt he wore had ridden up a bit, showing a teasing glimpse of nicely defined stomach muscles. His long legs were hidden away in dark blue jeans, that was tight enough to show off his arse, which Draco reluctantly noted, had improved as well. He still wore glasses, but at least now they were trendy and not dorky looking.

Yes, Harry Potter had grown up very nicely. Nice enough to even make Draco consider him his next conquest.

The Prophet had had a field day when it discovered that their famous hero was bent and had devoted weeks producing articles about it, speculating whether he had always known about it or had just discovered it. There had even been a special section created where the public could leave their opinion about the new revelation. That section had only lasted three weeks, before it had been removed again, due to the amount of offensive and rude letters they had gotten.

So Potter was bent and had grown up nicely. It was worth a shot.

He stood up and made his way leisurely towards his unsuspecting victim. When he was almost right behind Potter, he casted the Muffle bubble again. This would be a private conversation. In case it went wrong, nobody would hear it.

The body in front of him tensed when the owner became aware of the sudden shift in magic. Slowly Potter turned around and opened his eyes; they widened a bit when they saw who exactly had approached him.

"Hello Potter. Fancy meeting you here." Draco smirked.

Potter crossed his arms in front of his chest, his face wary. "Malfoy. Never expected to see you here."

"That would be Blaise's doing. He appeared to think that I should relax for one evening." Draco rolled his eyes, not caring to hide his exasperation.

Potter's lips trembled a bit, as if he had to push back a smile. Interesting.

"How awful of him."

Draco inclined his head. "Glad you agree with me."

"Not to be rude or something, but is there a reason why you wanted to talk to me?" Potter asked, sounding curious instead of hostile.

Maybe this would be easier than he had initially thought.

"I couldn't help but notice that you managed to grow up decently." Draco murmured smirking.

Potter looked at him surprised and then a speculative look appeared on his face when his eyes trailed up and down Draco's body. "Didn't know you swing that way." Potter gave him a smirk of his own.

"While I don't bother trying to hide it, neither do I like to flaunt it." The blond shrugged. "If I want someone, I go after that person, whether it's a woman or a man. Although I have to admit that I'm more partial to men."

A small grin appeared on Potter's face. "Is that so?"

"Hm. I do have taste though." He replied haughtily. "And because of that, I couldn't help but notice that you're the most interesting person here tonight."

Potter laughed and threw his head back, exposing his neck. Draco imagined how it would be like to trail his tongue across that skin and licked his lips, feeling his pants becoming a tad tighter.

"A compliment of the almighty lawyer Draco Malfoy? My, it must be my lucky night." Potter teased, his emerald green eyes twinkling in amusement.

Draco thanked the fact that he and Potter had called a truce at the end of the war and continued, "Maybe I can make your luck bigger tonight?"

Potter cocked his head to his left and chuckled. "Normally I don't shag with former school mates, but I think I can make an exception for you tonight." He uncrossed his arms and trailed one hand up and down on Draco's bare right arm, making a tiny shiver go through him.

"How generous of you." Draco murmured and narrowed his eyes a bit.

Potter inclined his head. "Why don't we go to the fifth floor? I'm certain there's a free room there." He suggested and stepped closer; the pupils in his eyes growing bigger.

"Things I need to know before we start?" Draco asked and grabbed Potter's wrist, pulling him along to the door leading to the various staircases.

"I don't do relationships." Potter answered and shrugged when Draco threw him a surprised look. "Too much hassle. And unless you're really good, this is the only night you'll get."

"And if I'm really good?" Draco asked amused. He didn't want to brag, but none of his lovers had ever complained about his bed skills.

Green eyes glittered. "Then there's a chance you can repeat your performance if you're willing."

Draco just smirked in response, excitement starting to race through his veins. He had always wanted Potter's attention from the moment he had realized who he was, and while he had enjoyed riling the younger man up during their school years, he was indefinitely more excited to have him in his bed. Maybe they would finally get rid of the pent up tension between the two of them.

The fourth room on the fifth floor welcomed them and the Lock bubble slid into place the moment Potter set the spell in motion – nonverbally.

Without giving him the chance to say anything, Draco pushed Potter against the door, his head smacking against it with a soft 'thud'. His pained hiss was drown in the harsh kiss Draco forced on him, tongues slipping past parted lips and wrestling with each other. Merlin, but Potter had turned into a good kisser.

Their moans were swallowed by their mouths and hands were frantically removing clothes, both men eager to get naked. They stumbled across the room and finally found the bed, Draco pushing Potter on it.

Potter pulled back and scrambled backwards to make room for the blond. Draco followed him and immediately latched onto a spot right above his collarbone, making the dark haired man underneath him groan in approval.

"Top or bottom?" Potter asked and Draco decided he quite liked the breathless voice the other was forced to use.

He tweaked one of the rose coloured nipples, feeling his body shudder. "Top. I'm not making an exception for the Saviour."

Potter chuckled and he felt his hands sliding around his waist to his back. "Fine by me." Then he inhaled sharply. "Oh Merlin, do that again." He moaned.

Draco smiled and complied, pressing his hips down at the same time he ranked his nails down Potter's sides.

Potter opened his legs wider, welcoming the blond between them and they simultaneously moaned when they pressed together. Hands began their journey on each other's skin; lips slid over each other and over every patch of soft skin they could find and sucked; teeth left behind faint bite marks and bruises.

Somehow they got rid of their underwear and Draco fumbled a bit when it was time to get the lube. Not wanting to relinquish Potter's mouth, he was blindly searching for the small tube of lube that was standard in every nightstand. Finally, after three minutes of rummaging through the stupid drawer and cursing violently, he extracted the small tube, ignoring the soft giggle his actions had caused.

Quickly he squeezed the slimy liquid out of the tube, rubbing it between his fingers to warm it up a bit.

Potter raised his legs, opening himself and Draco set upon preparing him, keeping an eye on Potter's face to gauge when it was time to go further.

It was amazing. Feeling Potter's body tense around him; feeling his muscles trying to get him closer; arms circling around his neck, the owner clinging to him; seeing his face contort in pleasure every time Draco managed to hit the right spot; gasps resounding in his ear; his name brokenly moaned.

And then, when they reached their climax, when those deep emerald green eyes bored deep into his own while Potter screamed out his pleasure and his body shook, Draco thought numbly to himself that he wouldn't mind doing this again.

With a hiss, Harry woke up. The clock showed it was three thirty in the morning. Hm, time to go home then.

His arse was throbbing with dull pain and it took him a few moments before he was able to escape Malfoy's hold – it figured he would be someone who hold his partner while sleeping. Grimacing, he slowly walked through the room, locating his clothes and putting them back on. His wand had rolled half underneath the bed and he bent down to grab it. As soon as the familiar wood was in his hand, he quickly casted a Pain numb charm, not feeling eager to walk the whole way to the Apparation point with his arse feeling on fire. He hadn't thought they had been that rough.

But, he thought with a satisfied grin, it had been bloody amazing.

Who would have thought that he would end up getting shagged by Draco Malfoy? Thoroughly shagged to be more precise. Like he had told Malfoy, normally he didn't do former school mates – too awkward afterwards, but Malfoy had always been an exception in his life. At least Malfoy would understand that this night had been no strings attached, unlike other former school mates.

He threw one last glance at the sleeping blond and then left the room. He wouldn't mind shagging Malfoy again if he was up to it. It had been one of the best nights he had had until now.

Still with a satisfied grin on his face, he left the building, waving goodbye to the bartender who shooed him off with a knowing smirk on his face.

Because it was February, the nights were still very cold and he clenched his jacket tighter around him, stepping briskly to the Apparation point. He would go home, take a warm shower and sleep the rest of the night – or early morning he supposed – away.

He had promised he would help Hermione and Ron move later today so he had to make sure he was awake on time. It wouldn't do to get another lecture from Hermione, who seemed to be getting more disappointed with each year that went by without Harry settling down with someone.

He shook his head with a snort and concentrated on Apparating. Five seconds later he landed right in front of his house, that was located at the outskirts of the city. The wards parted for him the moment they felt his magical signature and he went immediately upstairs, throwing his clothes on the white tiles of the bathroom floor.

The shower was like heaven; he groaned when he felt the warm water soothing his muscles. He shifted his feet a bit and felt a slight twinge of pain; it seemed the numbing charm was wearing off. He would be pretty sore later on. But at least it would be a good sore.

After putting on his pyjamas, he climbed in his bed, quickly dropping off to sleep again.

Harry saw Malfoy again one week later. He had been lounging at the bar of Midnight Wonder (the dance club was quickly becoming his favourite one to visit; not only because the atmosphere in general was nice, but also because it was easier to find some guy who wanted to have some fun), nursing a glass of Firewhiskey, wondering whether he would find some guy tonight to take upstairs, when someone sat next to him and turned to look at him.

"And so we meet again." Malfoy smirked and caught the attention of the bartender by waving his hand shortly. "One Firewhiskey."

"Coming right up." The bartender mumbled and shortly after Malfoy was handed a similar glass with red liquid inside of it.

"So it seems." Harry murmured and turned to look at him. "I'm surprised to see you here without the coaxing of your dear friend."

"I found that this particular establishment agreed more with me than the one Blaise tried to drag me to tonight." Malfoy replied dryly and sipped from his drink.

He snorted. "Zabini seems rather eager to introduce you to dance clubs." He remarked casually.

Grey eyes rolled in annoyance. "Unfortunately. If only he would spend the same amount of energy in his work."

A chuckle escaped Harry's throat. "We can't all be workaholics." He replied teasingly.

A blond eyebrow was raised in response. "Are you putting yourself in the same category as Blaise, Potter?"

"Must be the alcohol." Harry murmured after a moment of silence, blinking.

Malfoy shook his head. "You must be far gone then to put yourself together with Blaise."

"Alcohol impairs judgement." Harry winked and placed his empty glass back on the bar. "Of course I'd rather you don't tell Zabini about it."

"My lips are sealed, Potter." Malfoy smirked and then looked at him intently. "So, anyone caught your attention yet?"

"Why do you assume I'm only here to get laid?"

"Oh please, why else would anyone come here?"

"No, I haven't found anyone yet." Harry conceded and sighed. "I had better luck two days ago."

"Care to have a repeat performance then?" Malfoy suggested lightly and Harry looked at him suspiciously. Had he misjudged Malfoy and was he under the impression Harry would agree to dating him?

Malfoy must have understood his glance, because he continued with a smirk, "Relax, Potter. I'm not planning on dating you – I suspect we would try to kill each other after a few hours or so – I merely suggested we have some fun. I think we can both agree on the fact that that night was satisfying for both of us – and considering you haven't found anyone yet …" He trailed off, his eyes glinting.

"You're lucky you're so damn good in bed, Malfoy." Harry growled and then gripped his pale wrist tightly, dragging him to the staircase. Already he could feel excitement growing in his stomach and his jeans grew tighter. At least he was assured of a good shagging now.

In the course of the next half year, Draco and Harry would regularly meet up with each other to spend the night together. Of course Harry still sought out other men on nights when Draco wasn't there or just when he wanted to show the blond that he wasn't always his first choice. But their arrangement was a record for Harry. Usually even the men who got the chance to shag him a few times were dumped after four or five nights. That Draco managed to capture his attention for so long was mainly due to the fact that their nights were incredible – as loathe as Harry was to admit that. With Draco he was guaranteed a satisfying night, something that he couldn't always get with men he didn't know.

After confirming what he already suspected, Draco grew bold after a half year had gone by and had asked Harry to meet up during the day "as friends, Potter. Really, there is nothing wrong with being civilized to each other during the day as well."

After hesitating for nearly a week, making Hermione and Ron worried about him because it had been a long time ago since they last saw him so distracted, he had finally agreed to meet up with Draco somewhere during the day.

It had felt weird. Harry had never met up with the guys he had shagged in the middle of the day. The day was reserved for his friends and his work as a private Duelling teacher. But on a sunny Saturday, Malfoy took him to watch a Quidditch match between England and France.

Harry looked around the small, private box they had just entered. It was at the top of the stadium and it gave the best view on what would happen on the field during the match. The box only had two seats, though Malfoy had informed him that the box could be magically enlarged if it needed to.

"How did you manage to get tickets for this match?" Harry asked interested. "I heard they were sold out just three hours after they were put on sale."

"Potter, the Malfoy family still has some connections left in the Ministry." Malfoy replied dryly and steered him to the seats. "It wasn't too difficult to call some favours in and ask for two tickets."

"I bet they were in shock when they realized you were actually being nice to someone." Harry muttered and grinned when a sharp smack was delivered to his thigh in retaliation.

"It would do you well not to irritate the person who delivered you the means to see this highly anticipated match." Malfoy replied, his grey eyes glittering amused.

"Was that supposed to be a threat?" Harry clucked his tongue, but their attention was soon diverted when the two teams entered the field.

The two men settled themselves comfortably in their seats, eagerly anticipating the match.

And so slowly they met up more and more during the day; going to Quidditch matches, visiting museums, getting together for lunch at fancy restaurants … There had even been a time when Draco took Harry to Germany to visit the magical zoo (the largest of the whole world) there. That was also the moment when Draco had asked for Harry to call him by his first name – because after all "After all this time, you'd think we would be civilized enough to use each other's first names".

And Harry decided he quite liked these outings. Until he had hooked up with Draco, there was nothing a guy could do to convince him to meet up during the day, but somehow Draco was different. Draco managed to slip past the defences he had built up during all those years and frankly, that scared the hell out of him. He didn't know what to think of the blond wizard. What was it that Draco wanted of him? Did he want someone who could warm his bed? Someone whom he could hold conversations with? A friend with certain benefits? The uncertainty of what the Malfoy heir wanted made him jittery with nerves at times.

He wasn't used to this. Wasn't used to losing the control. From the moment he had made the resolve to not be hurt ever again by someone else, he had always managed to keep the control, no matter what kind of situation he had landed in. Even when his stalker threatened to kill him, he had managed to keep control of the situation long enough for the Aurors to arrive.

But now Draco had taken the control away from him. And Harry wasn't certain whether he liked that.

Their nightly meetings weren't restricted to the dance club anymore either. After a couple of months, Draco had led him casually back to his manor, stating that his bed was far more superior to the ones in the dance club (which secretly Harry had agreed with after having tried out the bed). There were times when they landed in Harry's bedroom (which was something that had barely happened before with other men, because it was often too much of a hassle to kick the guy out after the night), times when they went to Draco's manor and there were even those times when they couldn't restrain themselves and just did it where they were, including but not limited to restaurant bathrooms and even a broom closet at the Ministry when both had been invited to celebrate the end of the war.

Harry didn't know what to think of this new change in his life. After those three failed relationships, he had never let any guy close to him again. Yet, for some reason, Draco had wormed his way into his life and he was confused. What was happening to him?

"Never thought you would be good with children." An amused voice let him known Draco had arrived at the park they had agreed to meet.

Harry turned around and his nine year old godson Teddy stopped chattering to him about his school week.

"I see you haven't kept up with the gossip pages then." Harry replied lightly.

Teddy cocked his head and looked at the blond imploringly. "Uncle, who is he?" He asked curiously, in his high clear voice.

Draco bent down and offered his hand to the young boy to shake, which Teddy accepted warily. "Hello there, Teddy. I'm Draco Malfoy, your cousin."

"I have a cousin?" He asked confused. "Uncle, why haven't you told me that? You said we didn't have a big family aside from grandmother and the Weasleys."

"That's because your grandmother and my mother don't really get along." Draco replied before Harry could form a response. "And your uncle and I didn't talk to each other for a long time because we were busy with our work."

"Oh." Teddy nodded, as if that explanation was good enough for him. "What happens now?"

"I thought we could hang out, talk to each other and get to know each other." Draco smiled and then sat down, although he casted a suspicious look at the ground. "I'd like to get to know you better."

"Okay." The boy nodded slowly and the distrust in his eyes cleared up a bit. "So, are you and uncle Harry friends?"

"You could say that, yes." Harry finally interjected. He had tensed at first, not knowing how Teddy would react to the new addition in their lives. After he had broken up with Eric, he and Teddy had lived alone in his house, only having family and friends as visitors. So Teddy wasn't used to sharing him with anyone else aside from his grandmother and the Weasley family. He had been worried his godson would react badly to seeing Draco – especially if he found out they had a blood connection and nobody had told him before – but he relaxed now, glad that Teddy seemed to accept the new addition.

But only as a friend, Harry thought and studied the blond in front of him, whose ears were now being chattered off by the boy he had just met. He wondered whether Draco saw this whole thing as something more than it was. Merlin, he hoped not. He had grown … fond he supposed of Draco and liked having him around. He certainly was a lot more fun to hang around than some of the guys he had picked up the last half year – they still seemed to be under the impression they were the ones who could change Harry's view on relationships.

But, he thought, Draco himself likes this arrangement too much to screw it up. Draco wasn't the type of guy who would like to commit himself to Harry – while they were compatible in bed and they got along during the day as well, they still had fights which could turn quickly explosive if one of them said the wrong word.

It wasn't unusual for them to ignore each other for days to even some weeks after a big argument; after there had gone by enough time for them to cool off, they met up again, and never mentioned the argument again.

It was a screwed up friendship, but it worked for them. And Harry wouldn't like it one bit if that changed.

"So, ever thought of having children of your own?" Draco's question brought him out of his musings and he blinked dazed, glancing at the blond.

Teddy had apparently grown tired of chattering for the moment and was quietly reading a book – which must have been given by Draco, because Harry couldn't remember Teddy grabbing a book when they went out.

"What brought this question on?" Harry asked surprised and absently scratched the back of his hand when it itched.

Draco shrugged. "I've been wondering about this for a while. You seem more like a family type, so I wondered why you never started a family."

"Teddy is my family." Harry replied tersely. This particular topic reminded him too much of all the arguments he had with Hermione and Molly. Both seemed to think he could only be truly happy if he had children of his own and ignored his numerous protests about Teddy being his son already.

"I know that." Grey eyes rolled up in irritation. "I'm not claiming he isn't. Let me rephrase my question, so your delicate feelings aren't insulted again. Why have you not started a family with a guy and got more children? I'd had figured you of all people would want more than one child."

Harry sighed annoyed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. He and Draco had never talked about their past relationships – he knew Draco had divorced his wife, but had always been more attracted to guys and Draco knew Harry was bent from all those articles that appeared in various newspapers when he came out with his first boyfriend. But aside from those little titbits of information, there was nothing else said about the subject. Obviously Draco knew Harry was still taking guys home on days when Draco was either not available or when Harry felt just annoyed at the blond, but they had never spoken about their dreams or wishes. That was just too … intimate.

A part of Harry wanted to ignore the question, but he didn't have the energy to have an argument with Draco now – and an argument would appear if he refused to answer. Draco had never liked being ignored.

"Because there is something about me that makes people decide they are better off without me, okay." Harry huffed and scowled.


"It's nothing special really – just that the few relationships I've had had, they always ended because I somehow disappointed them." The dark haired duel instructor shrugged. "I've grown tired of getting dumped because of petty reasons. So I decided relationships aren't for me. I prefer my life as it is now."

Grey eyes looked at him intensely and Harry shifted uncomfortably. He felt like Draco was attempting to read his mind and it wasn't a pleasant feeling at all.

"That still doesn't answer my question – though at least now I know why you refuse every guy who tries to get further with you." Draco began and continued, before Harry could retort, "Aside from your apparent lack of ability to keep partners – which I find somehow hard to believe – do you still want a family or not?"

Harry pursed his lips and looked away, studying a small family further down the road. The father was playing football with his son – who looked to be around eight years old – while the mother was sitting down on a blanket with a baby in her arms, a smile on her face while she looked at her family.

A pang shot through his heart and he swallowed. He hadn't really thought about having a family for a while – he had entertained the notion when he still believed in relationships and back then had thought he would eventually get children when he was older. Hermione had helpfully given him a book dealing with male pregnancy and the various methods to create children in same sex relationships when he had confessed to her he had been worried about not having children of his own when he first discovered he was attracted to men. He still had that book – stuffed in his bookcase, books piled in front of it. He hadn't read it in years, not seeing the need for it when he wouldn't have any relationships.

He had told himself that if he wasn't able to keep his partner interested, why would he risk having a family? Teddy was enough for him.

But somewhere, deep in his heart, the longing for his own family had never disappeared. The sense of belonging to someone, to have other people look like him, to love and be loved … that longing had never completely disappeared, no matter how much he had supressed the thoughts of it.


He took a deep breath and turned back to look at Draco, who raised an eyebrow, silently urging him to answer. "Alright, maybe I once thought that it would be nice to have a family, to have children. But I got over it. I have Teddy and that is enough for me." He answered firmly.

"So because you got hurt a few times, you're willing to give up everything?" Draco murmured, his look clearly conveying what exactly he thought of that, which made Harry bristle offended. "I never took you for the type to give up that quickly, Potter. What happened to the boy who dared to take risks?"

Harry clenched his teeth and stood up; a nonverbal spell cleaning the grass stains from his jeans. His emerald green eyes looked at the blond icily, who blinked surprised, as if he wasn't sure what he had done to receive his cold response. "That boy grew up and realized that taking risks sometimes aren't worth it." He turned towards Teddy and held out his hand. "Come on, Teddy. We need to leave; otherwise we'll be late and you know aunt Hermione hates tardiness."

The boy quickly scrambled up, his eyes – that had now taken on a grey colour – quickly darting towards Draco, who stayed seated calmly. "Will I see you again, Draco?"

Draco inclined his head. "Of course – I'm certain we'll meet again soon. You can keep the book."

"Thank you." Teddy mumbled with a shy smile and then followed Harry, who stalked out of the park angrily, wondering what the hell Draco had been thinking when he suddenly asked those stupid questions.

He hated the way the whole encounter had left him unbalanced.

AN2: And onwards to part 2.