Paradigm Chapter Nine
Mar. 16th, 2009 09:00 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dysonrulesI know it's been a while since the last update! *hides* I hope it's worth the wait. *grin*
Draco’s heart skipped a beat or two at Harry’s words and he kept his jaw from dropping through sheer force of will. It had been an unspoken agreement between them since their first time together; Harry naturally topped and Draco had never questioned it. Now, however, the Auror seemed tired and vulnerable and Draco realized with a jolt of shock that Harry’s poised competence handling the press and the crowd had been an amazing act. Draco had always thought Harry to be an attention-seeker, an attitude that had been well-reinforced by Severus Snape’s attitude and running commentary during their school years. He had never suspected that Harry hated it. He would not have guessed that Harry was actually an intensely private person, although in hindsight it should have been obvious by his choice of friends. As much as Draco despised Weasley and Granger, they had faithfully bonded to Harry and protected him to the exclusion of all others. He saw now that they were part of Harry’s armour against the world.
Draco’s mind reeled with newfound awareness as Harry’s hands moved over his back. Wet lips nuzzled into Draco’s neck and Harry’s words seemed to hang in the air between them. Draco lifted his hands and pushed them gently into Harry’s impossibly thick hair, admiring the softness of it. He smiled as he considered how much it symbolized Harry, wild and unruly at times, but always soft to the touch. He tugged lightly and Harry removed his mouth from Draco’s neck, which was almost a crime because he knew Draco’s sensitive spots and loved to attack them with determined ardour.
Their eyes met and Draco found himself smiling in reassurance. Harry tentatively smiled back, a look Draco found so endearing he had to look away to hide a sudden rush of emotion. Concentrate, he told himself sternly. Now is not the time for Hufflepuffish sentiment. He focussed on the lion brooch he had connected for Harry earlier. He unclasped it and let the red cape fall to the floor, quickly followed by the girdle and tunic. Harry’s bare chest was a wonder, smooth and muscular, rising and falling evenly with each breath. Draco’s hands moved over it slowly, fingers splayed, touching Harry from collarbones to ribs. His skin radiated heat, as always, warming Draco’s hands. Draco traced over the ripples of Harry’s abdomen and his thumbs brushed the waistband of his trousers.
Harry toed off his boots as Draco pulled at the trouser fastenings. The Auror overbalanced trying to shake off a boot and nearly pulled them both down, but reflexively steadied them at the last moment. Draco guffawed as Harry’s forehead dropped to rest on his shoulder as chuckles shook him. With the strange tension between them effectively crushed, Draco attacked the stubborn trouser buttons with renewed vigour.
The stubborn thing finally released and Harry stepped easily out of the fabric, nearly killing Draco when he realized the man had not been wearing pants. All. Night. Long. He growled low and reached out to run his hand over the top of Harry's erect cock, petting it just lightly enough to tease.
"Draco," Harry said with a moan. Draco ignored that, even though it had a terrible effect on his libido--his own erection struggled against the confines of the leather trousers. Not only had Draco worn pants, but he had reinforced them with the suspicion that Harry would cause him physical distress more than once during the evening, something that had definitely happened during their single kiss. He frowned. Had Harry felt nothing?
"So, Potter," he asked conversationally as he continued to brush his fingertips across the length of Harry's twitching cock. "Where was this when I kissed you tonight?"
Harry held Draco's waist tightly and his breathing was definitely erratic. At least he was affected now. "Oh Merlin," he said. "Merlin, I knew I'd never get through the night with you in leather trousers looking like that." He threw his head back and Draco had to bite the inside of his lip hard not to completely lose control. Fucking hell, but Harry was gorgeous. The Auror went on in a whisper. "I spelled my trousers. Confining Charm. Damn good thing I did, too, or the photos in the Daily Prophet would reveal quite a lot more than I'd intended." He groaned. "Don't tease."
Confining Charm. Of course. Draco nearly laughed with relief and stroked Harry once more before ordering gruffly, "Get on the bed."
To Draco's surprise, Harry obeyed, turning and crawling onto the bed like the professional Draco was supposed to be. He lay on his back wantonly and watched with a lust-glazed expression as Draco peeled off his final layer of garments. He felt a heady sense of power when Harry looked at him with that particular expression, so he raised his arms in a languid stretch as though warming up for a marathon. Harry's brows disappeared into his messy hair and his eyes travelled up and down Draco's body before fixing on his cock. Harry's tongue trailed over his lower lip in a way that made Draco doubt the Auror was even conscious of the motion.
Harry lifted a hand in supplication and Draco's patience for teasing evaporated. He stalked forward and climbed over the supine Auror. Every delicate brush of skin on skin as he placed his hands and knees was electric. He hovered over Harry, looking down into his face before quirking a grin and removing the dark spectacles with one hand. Draco tossed them somewhere across the room. He loved making Harry search for them, especially when the Auror was late for work and scrambled around half-dressed and half-blind.
"I hate when you do that," Harry muttered.
"No, you don't. You know I watch you while you hunt for them."
Harry swallowed and his Adam's apple bobbed deliciously. "You watch me?"
Draco snorted. "You know I do or you would just Summon them, you bloody exhibitionist." He lowered his head and pressed rough kisses into Harry's neck, biting lightly, wanting to mark him but not quite daring.
“I’m not—” Harry began, but Draco’s hand closing over his cock silenced him. Draco grinned wickedly.
"You like it when I watch you, don't you, Harry?" he purred.
Harry's reply was a choked sound, but he cleared his throat and murmured, "Yes. Merlin, yes."
"Good, because I'm going to watch you right now." With that, Draco pushed himself back until he sat between Harry's legs. His hard cock was nestled beneath Harry's arse cheeks and Draco's thighs cradled his arse. Draco had only stopped his gentle tugging at Harry's erection while he positioned himself. He took it up once more and allowed his eyes to travel slowly over every bit of Harry so wantonly exposed.
Harry watched Draco watching him. He was utterly gorgeous.
"Are you ready, Harry?" Draco asked gently after watching his Auror come slowly undone. Harry's chest hitched with staccato breaths and his fingers--at first resting gently on Draco's outer thighs--trembled and pressed tightly into Draco's flesh, slick with sweat. He was close, very close, Draco knew.
"Ready," Harry repeated breathlessly. "Yes, ready."
Draco removed his hand from Harry's cock and dragged it through the damp curls and over Harry's taut testicles before easing into the dark crevice beneath. "I need you to spread wider."
Harry lifted his knees obediently and let go of Draco in order to grip them, spreading his legs even wider and giving Draco access to everything. Draco had to shut his eyes for a moment because it was almost too much. Harry Potter offering himself completely was beyond anything Draco had even dreamed.
Harry asked, "Is... is this okay?"
Draco shook off his stasis and forced a smile. "Perfect, Harry." He reached for his wand and Summoned the lubricant from the bedside table. Harry had located it while shopping one day--even though the thought of Harry in a sex shop had made Draco laugh for fully twenty minutes--and Draco had to admit it was far superior to anything they could Conjure from a wand. He pulled the cork and the substance magically flowed into his hand until halted with a word. It was warm from the bottle, so Draco leaned forward and let his fingers glide over Harry's tense hole. "Relax," Draco coaxed.
Harry's muscles unclenched, but only for a moment. Draco recalled his own loss of anal innocence and teased lightly with his fingers, over and over, rubbing small circles without attempting to breach the tight ring. Finally, Harry began to relax in earnest and even stared to push back against Draco's questing fingers, seeking more stimulation.
At last Draco slipped one finger inside, only to the first knuckle, and Harry tensed again, clenching tightly around the digit. Draco thought of that tight heat wrapping around his cock and felt his mouth go dry with anticipation. He moved his finger in and out rhythmically until Harry gasped, “More.”
Draco obliged, pressing another inside and Harry hissed at the new intrusion, but quickly recovered. By the time Draco added a third, he was drenched with sweat from the effort of finger fucking Harry and his arm ached as much as his leaking cock, but Harry’s soft cries were more than worth the bother.
“Draco, now. I want all of you now.”
Draco hoped to Salazar he didn’t come the instant he penetrated the Gryffindor, because he had never been so hard in his life. Harry’s cock leaked fluid onto his abdomen and as Draco moved to position himself, he leaned down and licked a stripe over the head. Harry cried out raggedly and Draco smirked. He quickly thought back to some of his more unsavoury “clients” in order to take the edge off, because touching Harry was bringing him dangerously close to orgasm. It worked long enough for him to align himself properly. His eyes met Harry’s and he smiled reassuringly, even though he knew Harry would not thank him for what was to come. With that, he pushed forward mercilessly.
Harry’s back arched and his hands flew up to clench around Draco’s wrists tightly, but the Auror made no sound. Damned stubborn Gryffindor. “You all right?” he asked and Harry nodded.
“How do you stand this?” Harry asked in a ragged voice and Draco felt a moment of alarm. Surely he wouldn’t think it so horrible that he would stop fucking Draco out of a sense of guilt at causing him unbearable pain?
“It gets better,” Draco assured him quickly and hoped he hadn’t spoken a lie. What if he could not make it as good for Harry as Harry always made it for him?
“Okay,” Harry said trustingly and Draco set his jaw with renewed determination. He could do this. After all, he'd had a very good teacher.
"I'm going to move now."
"All right." Harry's hands tightened on his wrists and Draco pulled out a bit. He pressed back in, slowly but inexorably, and nearly bit his lip bloody when Harry's eyes reflected nothing but pain.
"Want me to stop?" Draco asked, although it was the last thing he wanted to do. The feel of Harry clenched around him--Merlin, Salazar, and Circe it felt incredible. Harry was hot enough on the outside, but inside he was even hotter.
Harry shook his head. "No. No, I'm fine."
"Liar."
"I'm fine," Harry said with determination. As if to prove it, he lifted his arse and rocked hard onto Draco's cock, making them both gasp.
Draco stared down into wide green eyes and then smiled broadly. “Stubborn,” he chided and then added, “But, damn if you don’t feel good.”
Harry let go of his wrist with one hand, only to raise it and caress the side of Draco’s face tenderly. Draco sighed and turned his head to press a kiss into Harry’s palm. The gesture seemed stupidly sentimental and he sought to eradicate the confused jumble of emotion Harry always seemed to evoke. He pulled his cock nearly out and then drove it home. Harry’s hand dropped back to his wrist and held tightly. Draco thrust, nearly blinded by sensation. Fuck, it was brilliant beyond belief.
“Draco,” Harry moaned and he stopped instantly.
“What? Are you all right?”
“Bloody hell, don’t stop,” Harry said. “Faster, fuck, go faster.” To underscore his words, he levered himself forward, driving Draco even deeper.
Faster, oh yes, at times Harry came up with simply wonderful ideas. Draco obliged, moving faster, harder, and deeper, spurred on by Harry’s cries—no longer sounds of pain. It became even better when Harry started chanting his name, interspersed with yes, yes, and oh, Merlin, and finally disintegrated into whimpering huffing pants. Draco knew he couldn’t hold it much longer once that litany began and he finally thought to detach one arm from Harry’s increasingly painful grip on his wrist in order to grasp Harry’s leaking, twitching cock. Apparently, the additional stimulation was all Harry needed.
Harry arched beautifully and a ragged shout escaped him as he came over Draco’s stroking hand. He clenched with almost unbearable tightness around Draco’s cock and it only took three more deep thrusts before Draco came. His vision went white with the force of it and he was quite sure he had cried out Harry’s name. He collapsed on Harry’s chest, covered in sweat and tingling from every nerve ending.
“Fuck,” he managed.
“Yes, you did,” Harry said in a silken tone. “And quite exceptionally, I might add.”
Draco wrapped his arms around the Auror and buried his face in Harry’s damp hair. He could not meet those brilliant green eyes at the moment. He dared not. “It was acceptable, then?”
Harry’s arms tightened around his back. “Worth five thousand Galleons per night,” he replied.
Draco stiffened at the unwelcome reminder of his rentboy status, but he forced a chuckle that was muffled by Harry’s neck. “I knew I should have charged you more.”
“You’ll drain my Gringott’s account dry.”
“You plan to renew our bargain, then? Once the six months is done?” Draco asked teasingly, although the question caused a sharp ache in his chest.
“If necessary,” Harry said drowsily and Draco knew he was falling asleep. Draco sighed heavily and decided he did not want to think about the end of their agreement. He just wanted to stay right where he was for as long as possible.
“Draco?” he heard a few minutes later and roused himself with difficulty. He wondered if he was crushing Harry.
“Hmmm?” he mumbled.
“Draco, I want…”
He waited, but the Auror seemed either to have fallen asleep or forgotten his intention to speak. He pressed a kiss into the salty flesh touching his lips. “Already?” he asked silkily.
Harry chuckled, but it sounded forced. “I want… Oh hell, I just want to thank you. For everything.”
Gryffindors, Draco thought fuzzily. “You’re welcome, Harry,” he said and went to sleep.
~~ O ~~
Harry heard Draco snicker as he fumbled around on the floor and reached beneath the wardrobe, seeking his glasses.
“Nice arse, Harry.”
“Thank you, prat,” Harry replied as his fingers closed around the metal. He blew at the dust and vowed to have a talk with Winky about cleaning beneath the furniture.
“I’m cold,” Draco complained.
“Then pull up the covers, silly,” Harry said and returned to the bed to drag the blankets over Draco’s nude form. Nevertheless, he threw himself atop the blond and buried his face in the hollow of his throat. Draco’s arms wrapped around his shoulders.
“You are warmer than any old blankets,” Draco said sleepily.
“Thanks to you constantly making me hot and bothered,” Harry retorted with a grin. He sucked lightly on Draco’s pulse point.
“How do you feel?” Draco asked.
“Perfect,” Harry said, although he was slightly sore in places he had never been sore before. There mere remembrance of how those places became sore sent a surge of lust to his groin.
Draco groaned. “Again? Bloody hell, you are insatiable, aren’t you?”
“Yes, and I blame you completely. Unfortunately, I can’t right now. I’ve got to get to work.”
Draco’s arms tightened. “Must you?” he breathed and Harry growled and bit his neck with mock ferocity.
“Stop tempting me, wicked one. You know I have to go and face the music. You can feel free to lie here and get your beauty sleep.”
Draco sniffed, but made no move to release him. “I certainly don’t need beauty sleep, whereas you…”
Harry bit him again, harder this time, earning a yelp.
“Beast of an Auror! How dare you mar my exquisite skin?”
“I’ll do more than that to your exquisite skin if you don’t watch it,” Harry warned.
“Promises, promises,” Draco taunted.
Harry laughed and then pushed himself up onto his hands, breaking Draco’s hold. He stared down at the blond for a moment and then leaned down to place a gentle kiss on his chin and another on his nose. Normally the gesture drew a sharp comment, but this time Draco only sighed softly. Harry could feel his erection, hard against his own even with the blankets between them. He groaned in dismay. “I really have to go,” he said and pushed completely away from the seductive Slytherin, this time not stopping until he was well away from the bed. His need for Draco was maddening at times.
“I’ll be home for lunch if I can,” he said. “If not, I will send you a message. If I can’t… well, you still have your mirror, right?”
Draco snorted and dragged the covers up to his chin as he snuggled deeper into the pillows. “As if I care whether or not you come back at all,” he said snidely and Harry suppressed a grin, knowing Draco only lashed out because Harry had not satisfied his lust. He waited with arms crossed until the blond continued, “Yes, I have the stupid mirror. Put something on before you catch a chill. You look like a compass.”
Harry laughed and obediently dragged on a pair of pants, into which he shoved his offending erection. He assumed it would shrink by the time he got to the office, provided he did not allow himself to think of Draco at all.
He paused before leaving the room and then returned to the bed to plant a kiss on Draco’s forehead. “Goodbye, darling,” he said cheerfully.
“Sod off, Potter,” Draco said grouchily and yanked the covers over his head. Harry chuckled and headed downstairs.
~~O~~
Draco threw the blankets back as soon as he heard Harry’s footsteps retreating. He had planned to sleep until at least noon, but the damned Auror had to go and get him all hot and bothered, flashing his bare arse as he walked around the room searching for his bloody glasses. Draco cursed himself for admitting that he watched him. His annoyance softened and he smiled softly. Harry resembled nothing more than a cuddly puppy at times with his stupid, ridiculous gestures of affection. Honestly, kissing his face…
Draco frowned and reached a hand between his legs. It was slightly possible that the face kissing was a bit of a turn on. Which was quite annoying because instead of sleeping, now Draco had to wank.
He had barely stroked his cock once when the shriek of a Howler rang through the building at ear-splitting levels. Draco listened to it for far longer than he would have dreamed possible before levering himself out of bed in a snit.
He yanked on a dressing gown and stalked downstairs to find Harry in the kitchen surrounded by fluttering bits of angry parchment and looking shocked and miserable. Draco lifted his wand and cast a Confinement Bubble. He compressed it to the size of a thimble and watched with satisfaction as it exploded in a puff of red smoke.
“Bloody hell, Harry, you don’t have to open them! I destroyed my first Howler when I was five years old.”
“You got a Howler when you were five?”
Draco nodded. “I hexed a neighbour’s child and his mother was less than pleased with me.”
“You know, you really were not very nice as a child.”
Draco smiled beatifically. “I’m nice now, though.”
A smiled curved Harry’s lips. “Very nice,” he purred and Draco thought about kidnapping him for the day, Ministry be damned. He was distracted by a brown owl as it swooped in and dropped off the Daily Prophet—Harry always left one of the upstairs windows open for the daily post owls. Draco snatched the paper before Harry could touch it.
He barely noticed the headline that screamed GAY AUROR SCANDAL because his attention was riveted by the accompanying photo. He vaguely remembered flashbulbs going off while they kissed, but the result was startling. Draco was transfixed at the sight of Harry’s head tipping back, submissive to the first touch of Draco’s lips. He marvelled at the sight of his own fingers caressing Harry’s jaw before slipping into the ink-black hair. Merlin, the kiss was beyond anything he had imagined. He felt a blush tint his cheeks and something warm and infinitely dangerous uncurl deep within, making it suddenly difficult to breathe.
“What is it?” Harry asked anxiously and leaned forward to peer over the edge of the paper.
Draco snatched it to his breast and struggled for normalcy. His thoughts were racing. Fuck, he felt exposed by the photo. It was not a bloody picture of Potter and his rentboy. It was a photo of two men in love. The fact that it was a lie made his hands clench on the edges of the paper, crumpling it reflexively.
“It’s just the Daily fucking Prophet,” he said hoarsely. “You already know what they have to say about you.”
“Let me guess. ‘Boy Who Lives Shags Man’ or something equally heinous?”
Draco nodded and wondered how Harry could be so calm when Draco felt almost faint. Then again, he hadn’t seen the photo.
“I expected it,” Harry continued and sighed. “I suppose I had better go do some damage control. Kingsley is going to chew me a new arsehole.”
“I hope not,” Draco said, struggling for a normal tone. “I rather like the one you have.”
To his delight, Harry blushed and leaned across the table to kiss Draco’s forehead. “Winky packed me a breakfast. Be sure to eat something before you dive back beneath the covers.”
“Yes, mother,” Draco said meekly and grinned when Harry Disapparated.
He set the paper on the table and smoothed it gently before tracing over the edge of Harry’s jaw line. He stared at the photo for a long time before he bothered to read the article.
~~O~~
As expected, Harry’s announcement had repercussions, beginning almost the instant he arrived at work. He made a mental note to have Draco teach him the spell for containing and destroying the Howlers – he could have used it for the ones fluttering around his desk.
Before he could even acknowledge the hate mail, however, he first had to deal with Hermione Granger. She stood in his office with arms akimbo and foot tapping with impatience—never a welcome sight.
Harry sighed as he dropped his outer robes over a nearby chair. Hermione slammed the door, locked it, and cast a Silencing Charm.
“Out with it,” she demanded.
Harry grinned sheepishly and slid into his seat, hoping the heavy oak desk would provide some protection should she decide to start hexing him. It did nothing to deflect the waves of disapproval she currently directed at him.
“Out with what?” he asked as a stalling technique. “I came out last night, remember?”
She leaned over his desk. “Harry James Potter, it’s bad enough you were keeping a secret like this from me and Ron, your best friends, but the fact that you seem to have taken up with Draco bloody Malfoy defies sanity!”
Harry frowned as conflicting emotions assaulted him. Chief among them was guilt—he knew he should have brought her into his confidence, although perhaps not Ron, because Ron would most likely need years to assimilate the revelation of Harry’s preferences alone, but Hermione… Close on the heels of his guilt was a flare of defensive annoyance. It was his life and Draco was his business.
“I went to your flat, although it looks as though you have not been there in months from the state of it. Please tell me you are not shacking up with that blond menace!”
Harry glared and his hands clenched. “He is not a menace and I think I am quite grown up enough to decide who I will and will not shack up with!”
She reared back with a gasp and her eyes widened. “Oh bloody hell, you are living with him! I had hoped it was merely a lark or a one-off. How long has this been going on, Harry?”
He flushed and set his jaw, revealing nothing. The guilt he felt for not telling her he was gay was nothing next to the knowledge that his relationship with Draco was not at all what she thought. If she knew he was paying Malfoy he would not hear the end of it if he lived to be two hundred.
“Harry, you know what he is! You know what he’s done in the past and what he’s capable of—have you been checked for the Imperius Curse?”
“I am not under an Imperius, Hermione! For Merlin’s sake, it’s just a fling. Neither of us is serious and we’re not having a bloody relationship or anything stupid like that!”
“A fling. With Draco Malfoy. Could you not have found anyone else in this entire world more suitable?” she demanded.
Harry launched himself to his feet angrily. “No, I could not! For your information there is no one else in the world for me! There is only him! And he’s not who you think he is, not any more! He’s warm and kind, and creative, and funny, and intelligent and he—” Harry trailed off at Hermione’s flabbergasted expression.
“Oh no. Oh no, no, no,” she said in a voice barely louder than a whisper. “It can’t be. Harry, you’re in love with him.”
Harry gaped at her and then burst out laughing as he sank back down in his seat. It sounded somewhat hysterical even to his ears, so he cut it short. “Godric, no! Of course I’m not. We simply… have an arrangement. It’s only temporary.”
Her brown eyes pierced him and her mouth twisted into a sceptical line. “Does he know that? It seems to be quite some arrangement, judging by that kiss last night. I thought I might have to turn a cold shower on you both.”
Harry flushed scarlet, remembering the kiss. He could not admit to her that it had been their only kiss. She would pry at him until he spilled everything. If she ever found out that Draco was nothing more than a rentboy… Harry groaned.
“I’ll be fine,” he assured her. “It’s only a matter of convenience.”
“Convenience,” she repeated, obviously not convinced. At his grim nod, she sighed and Harry almost sagged with relief, recognizing the sign that she meant to retreat, at least for now. “All right, then, but you had better hope the press never catches wind of his identity.” She gestured at the letters and Howlers littering his desk. “Or this will seem like a child’s picnic.”
“I know that. I am doing my best to keep Dra—Malfoy protected from this. I don’t want him…” Hurt, he nearly finished.
“Using it to his advantage?” she finished for him.
“He won’t do that,” Harry insisted.
She rolled her eyes. “I am very concerned that you have suddenly become Draco Malfoy’s biggest supporter, Harry. I suggest you have yourself checked for the Imperius Curse or possible Obliviation.” She held up a hand to halt his protest. “Even if you think you don’t need it. Do it for my sake, all right?”
He frowned and nodded, already knowing he would never comply. He had suspected the same thing in the beginning and a Detection Spell had revealed nothing. Harry’s feelings for Draco—whatever they were—belonged to him alone.
Hermione nodded and her features softened. “I do care about you, Harry. You know that.”
“I know,” he said.
She unlocked the door and lifted the spells, but paused before turning the handle. “By the way, I suggest you meet with Ron as soon as possible. He is not taking this as well as I am. And he doesn’t even know the identity of your… friend.”
Harry buried his head in his hands and mentally thanked her for not disclosing that particular titbit. Ron would never forgive him for taking up with Draco, but there was no need for him ever to find out. His arrangement with Draco would be over soon enough. Too soon for Harry.
He looked at the stack of mail on his desk and shoved them all to the floor with a violent motion of his arm. One of the Howlers began to smoke and expel sparks.
Fuck.
~~ O ~~
Draco shamelessly opened all of Harry’s mail and destroyed the less than flattering, rude, or blatantly hateful letters, keeping only those that were supportive of Harry’s disclosure. There were a surprising number of positive missives, proof of the public’s never-ending love affair with the Boy Who Lived. Still, there were enough of the other kind, no doubt fuelled by the nastiness of the Daily Prophet articles, that Draco sat back with his cup of tea and pondered Harry’s reaction. The Gryffindor would likely sit back stoically and take whatever was thrown at him.
Which was not quite good enough for Draco.
He went upstairs, dressed quickly, and departed.
Draco sat across from Maxwell Smead, a man whose services he had never required, although he remembered accompanying his father to the man’s office on several occasions. Smead stared at him suspiciously through spectacles with huge lenses that made his eyes look watery and bovine. Draco had always secretly thought of him as Oxwell Smead, especially when the matted black hair plastered against the man’s round head did little to dispel his resemblance to a Spanish bull. Draco half-expected him to moo instead of speak.
“What ye need this fer?” Smead asked. Rather than lowing, the man’s voice was harsh and raspy. He most likely imbibed several illegal potions on a daily basis, judging by the shaking of his hands and the sickly colour of his skin.
“What I need it for is none of your business,” Draco snapped, but sighed when the man’s lips thinned into a line of annoyance. “If you must know, I have never been a friend of Harry Potter. I found these articles rather amusing and would like to send the author a token of appreciation, as well as give him—or her—some incentive to continue mocking the Boy Who Lived.”
Smead blinked at him, which was a disconcerting enough sight that Draco nearly had to look away. Moooo, he thought.
“What’d ‘e ever do ter ye?” Smead asked.
Draco fought to keep a straight face and thanked the years of schooling that enabled him to maintain a placid façade while he thought, What did he do? He fucked me seven ways from Sunday just this week. “He made my school years a living hell. He contributed to the loss of my father, my estate, and my inheritance! That is what the prat has done to me!” Draco’s voice rose stridently and Smead sat back in his chair quickly, as if to dive beneath his desk if Draco chose to throw hexes in a rage. It had probably happened in the past, even though many of Smead’s clients came from the higher echelons of wizarding society.
“Makes no nevermind ter me,” Smead said and shrugged. “Long as ye can cough up me price.”
“Which is?” Draco asked dryly.
“One hundred Galleons.”
Draco scowled. The bloody bastard! That was utter robbery and Draco knew it. “One hundred? For a bloody name? I could probably call the Daily Prophet and get it myself.”
Smead made a wet sound in his throat, as though a wad of phlegm had caught there and prevented him taking a breath. He repeated it and shrugged. “Ye can try. Them’s nearly as tight-lipped at the Prophet as they are at the Ministry. Luck to ye.”
Draco nearly growled. “I do not have the time to deal with this matter. It’s merely a trifle, anyway. A lark.” Draco dipped into the pouch at his waist and extracted a number of coins. Truthfully, he had expected the price to be slightly higher. Smead must have heard about the loss of the Malfoy fortune and taken pity on him; after all, a small fee was better than no fee.
“Pleasure doin’ business wit’ ye, Malfoy. I’ll get this ter ye afore day’s end.”
Draco nodded and gladly escaped the man’s repulsive presence.
~~ O ~~
Harry could not escape the office quickly enough. Between the hate mail, the Howlers, the curious, smirking, or blatantly rude looks of his co-workers to an extremely unpleasant reaming by Kingsley—who was far more upset about Harry’s timing rather than the actual event—he felt utterly drained and exhausted by the time noon arrived. He gratefully Flooed home, hoping Draco would be awake.
The house was quiet, but a delightful smell wafted from the kitchen. Winky must be cooking. Harry’s stomach rumbled and he realized that even with a pounding headache, he was famished. “Draco?” he called hopefully.
To his surprise, the blond appeared in the archway to the living room, clad only in black silk pyjama bottoms and a white button-up shirt that was completely unbuttoned. It was, quite possibly, Harry’s favourite of all the outfits Draco wore. Judging by the smirk, Draco was well aware of the fact.
“Rough day, so far?” Draco purred and moved forward sinuously.
“It’s starting to look up,” Harry admitted, feeling a heady rush at Draco’s nearness.
Draco tsked and his hands lifted to the clasp that fastened Harry’s Auror robes. He deftly released it and eased the fabric away—it fell to the floor with a heavy rustle. The buttons of Harry’s shirt were next. Draco pushed each one through the hole and parted the shirt. He put his cool hands on Harry’s chest and trailed them gently over his skin in slow circles before tweaking at his nipples, pulling them into hard peaks. Harry moaned and reached for Draco, but his hands were blocked when the blond grabbed his wrists. He moved forward, forcing Harry back against the wall, nearly knocking over the umbrella stand. He pressed Harry’s wrists against the wall for a moment before dipping his head to taste the hollow of Harry’s throat.
“Draco,” Harry breathed. The hands left his wrists and moved back to his chest. Harry kept his hands against the wall, allowing Draco to take the lead. He heard a banging from the kitchen and realized they probably should not do this in the entryway, but when Draco sucked on his pulse point he forgot to care.
Draco’s hips rocked forward suddenly, grinding his erection into Harry’s with delicious pressure. “Hard for me again, Harry?”
“Always. Fuck, always.”
Draco raised his head and their eyes locked for a moment. Draco thrust sharply, causing Harry to wince even as he moaned. His trousers were in the way. He wanted to feel all of Draco. His hands dropped away from the wall, but Draco quickly pushed them back into place with a glare. “Bad Auror.”
Harry couldn’t help it. He smiled.
“Don’t move,” Draco admonished and stepped back far enough to put his hands on the fasteners of Harry’s trousers. Harry felt strangely exposed with his arms flat against the wall and his shirt open to Draco’s hot gaze. The blond dropped to his knees and yanked open Harry’s trousers just far enough to expose his cock. Dishes rattled again, startling him, but he could not have moved if his life depended on it. Please let Winky stay in the kitchen, he begged the heavens silently.
Draco smirked as if reading Harry’s mind and then licked the head of his cock in a slow, maddening circle before lapping up the spurt of precome that leaked from the tip. He took the hood into his mouth and sucked, nearly making Harry’s vision go white. Draco’s fingers remained curled in the open waistband of his trousers—he did not touch Harry’s cock except with his mouth. He alternately flicked with his tongue, swirled, lapped, and then sucked hard, keeping his attention only on the head, never touching the shaft. It was both maddening and fuckingly, mind-blowingly hot.
Draco’s licks were delicate torture, easing Harry back from the brink of orgasm with pauses between just long enough to make him want to scream before the next brush of wet tongue over the throbbing head. Harry’s hands shook against the wallpaper and his palms were wet with sweat. Just when he though he could take no more, Draco would envelope the tip and suck, hollowing his cheeks with the effort. Harry lasted far, far longer than he would have imagined, but finally the sucking did him in.
“Draco, oh Merlin, Draco, Draco, fuck, I’m going to—”
Even then, Draco did not take it all; he simply allowed Harry’s come to fill his mouth. His eyes were shut and his face looked incredible with his lips wrapped around Harry’s pulsing cock. A white dribble leaked from the corner of his mouth before he swallowed and then sucked one last time, pulling a ragged gasp from Harry’s throat with the last of his release.
Harry was shaking. Just when he thought nothing Draco did could surprise him. He lowered one hand and wiped the liquid away with his thumb as Draco’s eyes opened. His tongue licked once more over Harry’s slit, causing him to shiver.
“If Masters are being finished their lunch is being ready for eating,” Winky said and Harry’s head snapped around. The house-elf stood in the doorway to the kitchen, watching them placidly.
She disappeared as Draco’s laughter filled the hallway.
Chapter Ten
Draco’s heart skipped a beat or two at Harry’s words and he kept his jaw from dropping through sheer force of will. It had been an unspoken agreement between them since their first time together; Harry naturally topped and Draco had never questioned it. Now, however, the Auror seemed tired and vulnerable and Draco realized with a jolt of shock that Harry’s poised competence handling the press and the crowd had been an amazing act. Draco had always thought Harry to be an attention-seeker, an attitude that had been well-reinforced by Severus Snape’s attitude and running commentary during their school years. He had never suspected that Harry hated it. He would not have guessed that Harry was actually an intensely private person, although in hindsight it should have been obvious by his choice of friends. As much as Draco despised Weasley and Granger, they had faithfully bonded to Harry and protected him to the exclusion of all others. He saw now that they were part of Harry’s armour against the world.
Draco’s mind reeled with newfound awareness as Harry’s hands moved over his back. Wet lips nuzzled into Draco’s neck and Harry’s words seemed to hang in the air between them. Draco lifted his hands and pushed them gently into Harry’s impossibly thick hair, admiring the softness of it. He smiled as he considered how much it symbolized Harry, wild and unruly at times, but always soft to the touch. He tugged lightly and Harry removed his mouth from Draco’s neck, which was almost a crime because he knew Draco’s sensitive spots and loved to attack them with determined ardour.
Their eyes met and Draco found himself smiling in reassurance. Harry tentatively smiled back, a look Draco found so endearing he had to look away to hide a sudden rush of emotion. Concentrate, he told himself sternly. Now is not the time for Hufflepuffish sentiment. He focussed on the lion brooch he had connected for Harry earlier. He unclasped it and let the red cape fall to the floor, quickly followed by the girdle and tunic. Harry’s bare chest was a wonder, smooth and muscular, rising and falling evenly with each breath. Draco’s hands moved over it slowly, fingers splayed, touching Harry from collarbones to ribs. His skin radiated heat, as always, warming Draco’s hands. Draco traced over the ripples of Harry’s abdomen and his thumbs brushed the waistband of his trousers.
Harry toed off his boots as Draco pulled at the trouser fastenings. The Auror overbalanced trying to shake off a boot and nearly pulled them both down, but reflexively steadied them at the last moment. Draco guffawed as Harry’s forehead dropped to rest on his shoulder as chuckles shook him. With the strange tension between them effectively crushed, Draco attacked the stubborn trouser buttons with renewed vigour.
The stubborn thing finally released and Harry stepped easily out of the fabric, nearly killing Draco when he realized the man had not been wearing pants. All. Night. Long. He growled low and reached out to run his hand over the top of Harry's erect cock, petting it just lightly enough to tease.
"Draco," Harry said with a moan. Draco ignored that, even though it had a terrible effect on his libido--his own erection struggled against the confines of the leather trousers. Not only had Draco worn pants, but he had reinforced them with the suspicion that Harry would cause him physical distress more than once during the evening, something that had definitely happened during their single kiss. He frowned. Had Harry felt nothing?
"So, Potter," he asked conversationally as he continued to brush his fingertips across the length of Harry's twitching cock. "Where was this when I kissed you tonight?"
Harry held Draco's waist tightly and his breathing was definitely erratic. At least he was affected now. "Oh Merlin," he said. "Merlin, I knew I'd never get through the night with you in leather trousers looking like that." He threw his head back and Draco had to bite the inside of his lip hard not to completely lose control. Fucking hell, but Harry was gorgeous. The Auror went on in a whisper. "I spelled my trousers. Confining Charm. Damn good thing I did, too, or the photos in the Daily Prophet would reveal quite a lot more than I'd intended." He groaned. "Don't tease."
Confining Charm. Of course. Draco nearly laughed with relief and stroked Harry once more before ordering gruffly, "Get on the bed."
To Draco's surprise, Harry obeyed, turning and crawling onto the bed like the professional Draco was supposed to be. He lay on his back wantonly and watched with a lust-glazed expression as Draco peeled off his final layer of garments. He felt a heady sense of power when Harry looked at him with that particular expression, so he raised his arms in a languid stretch as though warming up for a marathon. Harry's brows disappeared into his messy hair and his eyes travelled up and down Draco's body before fixing on his cock. Harry's tongue trailed over his lower lip in a way that made Draco doubt the Auror was even conscious of the motion.
Harry lifted a hand in supplication and Draco's patience for teasing evaporated. He stalked forward and climbed over the supine Auror. Every delicate brush of skin on skin as he placed his hands and knees was electric. He hovered over Harry, looking down into his face before quirking a grin and removing the dark spectacles with one hand. Draco tossed them somewhere across the room. He loved making Harry search for them, especially when the Auror was late for work and scrambled around half-dressed and half-blind.
"I hate when you do that," Harry muttered.
"No, you don't. You know I watch you while you hunt for them."
Harry swallowed and his Adam's apple bobbed deliciously. "You watch me?"
Draco snorted. "You know I do or you would just Summon them, you bloody exhibitionist." He lowered his head and pressed rough kisses into Harry's neck, biting lightly, wanting to mark him but not quite daring.
“I’m not—” Harry began, but Draco’s hand closing over his cock silenced him. Draco grinned wickedly.
"You like it when I watch you, don't you, Harry?" he purred.
Harry's reply was a choked sound, but he cleared his throat and murmured, "Yes. Merlin, yes."
"Good, because I'm going to watch you right now." With that, Draco pushed himself back until he sat between Harry's legs. His hard cock was nestled beneath Harry's arse cheeks and Draco's thighs cradled his arse. Draco had only stopped his gentle tugging at Harry's erection while he positioned himself. He took it up once more and allowed his eyes to travel slowly over every bit of Harry so wantonly exposed.
Harry watched Draco watching him. He was utterly gorgeous.
"Are you ready, Harry?" Draco asked gently after watching his Auror come slowly undone. Harry's chest hitched with staccato breaths and his fingers--at first resting gently on Draco's outer thighs--trembled and pressed tightly into Draco's flesh, slick with sweat. He was close, very close, Draco knew.
"Ready," Harry repeated breathlessly. "Yes, ready."
Draco removed his hand from Harry's cock and dragged it through the damp curls and over Harry's taut testicles before easing into the dark crevice beneath. "I need you to spread wider."
Harry lifted his knees obediently and let go of Draco in order to grip them, spreading his legs even wider and giving Draco access to everything. Draco had to shut his eyes for a moment because it was almost too much. Harry Potter offering himself completely was beyond anything Draco had even dreamed.
Harry asked, "Is... is this okay?"
Draco shook off his stasis and forced a smile. "Perfect, Harry." He reached for his wand and Summoned the lubricant from the bedside table. Harry had located it while shopping one day--even though the thought of Harry in a sex shop had made Draco laugh for fully twenty minutes--and Draco had to admit it was far superior to anything they could Conjure from a wand. He pulled the cork and the substance magically flowed into his hand until halted with a word. It was warm from the bottle, so Draco leaned forward and let his fingers glide over Harry's tense hole. "Relax," Draco coaxed.
Harry's muscles unclenched, but only for a moment. Draco recalled his own loss of anal innocence and teased lightly with his fingers, over and over, rubbing small circles without attempting to breach the tight ring. Finally, Harry began to relax in earnest and even stared to push back against Draco's questing fingers, seeking more stimulation.
At last Draco slipped one finger inside, only to the first knuckle, and Harry tensed again, clenching tightly around the digit. Draco thought of that tight heat wrapping around his cock and felt his mouth go dry with anticipation. He moved his finger in and out rhythmically until Harry gasped, “More.”
Draco obliged, pressing another inside and Harry hissed at the new intrusion, but quickly recovered. By the time Draco added a third, he was drenched with sweat from the effort of finger fucking Harry and his arm ached as much as his leaking cock, but Harry’s soft cries were more than worth the bother.
“Draco, now. I want all of you now.”
Draco hoped to Salazar he didn’t come the instant he penetrated the Gryffindor, because he had never been so hard in his life. Harry’s cock leaked fluid onto his abdomen and as Draco moved to position himself, he leaned down and licked a stripe over the head. Harry cried out raggedly and Draco smirked. He quickly thought back to some of his more unsavoury “clients” in order to take the edge off, because touching Harry was bringing him dangerously close to orgasm. It worked long enough for him to align himself properly. His eyes met Harry’s and he smiled reassuringly, even though he knew Harry would not thank him for what was to come. With that, he pushed forward mercilessly.
Harry’s back arched and his hands flew up to clench around Draco’s wrists tightly, but the Auror made no sound. Damned stubborn Gryffindor. “You all right?” he asked and Harry nodded.
“How do you stand this?” Harry asked in a ragged voice and Draco felt a moment of alarm. Surely he wouldn’t think it so horrible that he would stop fucking Draco out of a sense of guilt at causing him unbearable pain?
“It gets better,” Draco assured him quickly and hoped he hadn’t spoken a lie. What if he could not make it as good for Harry as Harry always made it for him?
“Okay,” Harry said trustingly and Draco set his jaw with renewed determination. He could do this. After all, he'd had a very good teacher.
"I'm going to move now."
"All right." Harry's hands tightened on his wrists and Draco pulled out a bit. He pressed back in, slowly but inexorably, and nearly bit his lip bloody when Harry's eyes reflected nothing but pain.
"Want me to stop?" Draco asked, although it was the last thing he wanted to do. The feel of Harry clenched around him--Merlin, Salazar, and Circe it felt incredible. Harry was hot enough on the outside, but inside he was even hotter.
Harry shook his head. "No. No, I'm fine."
"Liar."
"I'm fine," Harry said with determination. As if to prove it, he lifted his arse and rocked hard onto Draco's cock, making them both gasp.
Draco stared down into wide green eyes and then smiled broadly. “Stubborn,” he chided and then added, “But, damn if you don’t feel good.”
Harry let go of his wrist with one hand, only to raise it and caress the side of Draco’s face tenderly. Draco sighed and turned his head to press a kiss into Harry’s palm. The gesture seemed stupidly sentimental and he sought to eradicate the confused jumble of emotion Harry always seemed to evoke. He pulled his cock nearly out and then drove it home. Harry’s hand dropped back to his wrist and held tightly. Draco thrust, nearly blinded by sensation. Fuck, it was brilliant beyond belief.
“Draco,” Harry moaned and he stopped instantly.
“What? Are you all right?”
“Bloody hell, don’t stop,” Harry said. “Faster, fuck, go faster.” To underscore his words, he levered himself forward, driving Draco even deeper.
Faster, oh yes, at times Harry came up with simply wonderful ideas. Draco obliged, moving faster, harder, and deeper, spurred on by Harry’s cries—no longer sounds of pain. It became even better when Harry started chanting his name, interspersed with yes, yes, and oh, Merlin, and finally disintegrated into whimpering huffing pants. Draco knew he couldn’t hold it much longer once that litany began and he finally thought to detach one arm from Harry’s increasingly painful grip on his wrist in order to grasp Harry’s leaking, twitching cock. Apparently, the additional stimulation was all Harry needed.
Harry arched beautifully and a ragged shout escaped him as he came over Draco’s stroking hand. He clenched with almost unbearable tightness around Draco’s cock and it only took three more deep thrusts before Draco came. His vision went white with the force of it and he was quite sure he had cried out Harry’s name. He collapsed on Harry’s chest, covered in sweat and tingling from every nerve ending.
“Fuck,” he managed.
“Yes, you did,” Harry said in a silken tone. “And quite exceptionally, I might add.”
Draco wrapped his arms around the Auror and buried his face in Harry’s damp hair. He could not meet those brilliant green eyes at the moment. He dared not. “It was acceptable, then?”
Harry’s arms tightened around his back. “Worth five thousand Galleons per night,” he replied.
Draco stiffened at the unwelcome reminder of his rentboy status, but he forced a chuckle that was muffled by Harry’s neck. “I knew I should have charged you more.”
“You’ll drain my Gringott’s account dry.”
“You plan to renew our bargain, then? Once the six months is done?” Draco asked teasingly, although the question caused a sharp ache in his chest.
“If necessary,” Harry said drowsily and Draco knew he was falling asleep. Draco sighed heavily and decided he did not want to think about the end of their agreement. He just wanted to stay right where he was for as long as possible.
“Draco?” he heard a few minutes later and roused himself with difficulty. He wondered if he was crushing Harry.
“Hmmm?” he mumbled.
“Draco, I want…”
He waited, but the Auror seemed either to have fallen asleep or forgotten his intention to speak. He pressed a kiss into the salty flesh touching his lips. “Already?” he asked silkily.
Harry chuckled, but it sounded forced. “I want… Oh hell, I just want to thank you. For everything.”
Gryffindors, Draco thought fuzzily. “You’re welcome, Harry,” he said and went to sleep.
~~ O ~~
Harry heard Draco snicker as he fumbled around on the floor and reached beneath the wardrobe, seeking his glasses.
“Nice arse, Harry.”
“Thank you, prat,” Harry replied as his fingers closed around the metal. He blew at the dust and vowed to have a talk with Winky about cleaning beneath the furniture.
“I’m cold,” Draco complained.
“Then pull up the covers, silly,” Harry said and returned to the bed to drag the blankets over Draco’s nude form. Nevertheless, he threw himself atop the blond and buried his face in the hollow of his throat. Draco’s arms wrapped around his shoulders.
“You are warmer than any old blankets,” Draco said sleepily.
“Thanks to you constantly making me hot and bothered,” Harry retorted with a grin. He sucked lightly on Draco’s pulse point.
“How do you feel?” Draco asked.
“Perfect,” Harry said, although he was slightly sore in places he had never been sore before. There mere remembrance of how those places became sore sent a surge of lust to his groin.
Draco groaned. “Again? Bloody hell, you are insatiable, aren’t you?”
“Yes, and I blame you completely. Unfortunately, I can’t right now. I’ve got to get to work.”
Draco’s arms tightened. “Must you?” he breathed and Harry growled and bit his neck with mock ferocity.
“Stop tempting me, wicked one. You know I have to go and face the music. You can feel free to lie here and get your beauty sleep.”
Draco sniffed, but made no move to release him. “I certainly don’t need beauty sleep, whereas you…”
Harry bit him again, harder this time, earning a yelp.
“Beast of an Auror! How dare you mar my exquisite skin?”
“I’ll do more than that to your exquisite skin if you don’t watch it,” Harry warned.
“Promises, promises,” Draco taunted.
Harry laughed and then pushed himself up onto his hands, breaking Draco’s hold. He stared down at the blond for a moment and then leaned down to place a gentle kiss on his chin and another on his nose. Normally the gesture drew a sharp comment, but this time Draco only sighed softly. Harry could feel his erection, hard against his own even with the blankets between them. He groaned in dismay. “I really have to go,” he said and pushed completely away from the seductive Slytherin, this time not stopping until he was well away from the bed. His need for Draco was maddening at times.
“I’ll be home for lunch if I can,” he said. “If not, I will send you a message. If I can’t… well, you still have your mirror, right?”
Draco snorted and dragged the covers up to his chin as he snuggled deeper into the pillows. “As if I care whether or not you come back at all,” he said snidely and Harry suppressed a grin, knowing Draco only lashed out because Harry had not satisfied his lust. He waited with arms crossed until the blond continued, “Yes, I have the stupid mirror. Put something on before you catch a chill. You look like a compass.”
Harry laughed and obediently dragged on a pair of pants, into which he shoved his offending erection. He assumed it would shrink by the time he got to the office, provided he did not allow himself to think of Draco at all.
He paused before leaving the room and then returned to the bed to plant a kiss on Draco’s forehead. “Goodbye, darling,” he said cheerfully.
“Sod off, Potter,” Draco said grouchily and yanked the covers over his head. Harry chuckled and headed downstairs.
~~O~~
Draco threw the blankets back as soon as he heard Harry’s footsteps retreating. He had planned to sleep until at least noon, but the damned Auror had to go and get him all hot and bothered, flashing his bare arse as he walked around the room searching for his bloody glasses. Draco cursed himself for admitting that he watched him. His annoyance softened and he smiled softly. Harry resembled nothing more than a cuddly puppy at times with his stupid, ridiculous gestures of affection. Honestly, kissing his face…
Draco frowned and reached a hand between his legs. It was slightly possible that the face kissing was a bit of a turn on. Which was quite annoying because instead of sleeping, now Draco had to wank.
He had barely stroked his cock once when the shriek of a Howler rang through the building at ear-splitting levels. Draco listened to it for far longer than he would have dreamed possible before levering himself out of bed in a snit.
He yanked on a dressing gown and stalked downstairs to find Harry in the kitchen surrounded by fluttering bits of angry parchment and looking shocked and miserable. Draco lifted his wand and cast a Confinement Bubble. He compressed it to the size of a thimble and watched with satisfaction as it exploded in a puff of red smoke.
“Bloody hell, Harry, you don’t have to open them! I destroyed my first Howler when I was five years old.”
“You got a Howler when you were five?”
Draco nodded. “I hexed a neighbour’s child and his mother was less than pleased with me.”
“You know, you really were not very nice as a child.”
Draco smiled beatifically. “I’m nice now, though.”
A smiled curved Harry’s lips. “Very nice,” he purred and Draco thought about kidnapping him for the day, Ministry be damned. He was distracted by a brown owl as it swooped in and dropped off the Daily Prophet—Harry always left one of the upstairs windows open for the daily post owls. Draco snatched the paper before Harry could touch it.
He barely noticed the headline that screamed GAY AUROR SCANDAL because his attention was riveted by the accompanying photo. He vaguely remembered flashbulbs going off while they kissed, but the result was startling. Draco was transfixed at the sight of Harry’s head tipping back, submissive to the first touch of Draco’s lips. He marvelled at the sight of his own fingers caressing Harry’s jaw before slipping into the ink-black hair. Merlin, the kiss was beyond anything he had imagined. He felt a blush tint his cheeks and something warm and infinitely dangerous uncurl deep within, making it suddenly difficult to breathe.
“What is it?” Harry asked anxiously and leaned forward to peer over the edge of the paper.
Draco snatched it to his breast and struggled for normalcy. His thoughts were racing. Fuck, he felt exposed by the photo. It was not a bloody picture of Potter and his rentboy. It was a photo of two men in love. The fact that it was a lie made his hands clench on the edges of the paper, crumpling it reflexively.
“It’s just the Daily fucking Prophet,” he said hoarsely. “You already know what they have to say about you.”
“Let me guess. ‘Boy Who Lives Shags Man’ or something equally heinous?”
Draco nodded and wondered how Harry could be so calm when Draco felt almost faint. Then again, he hadn’t seen the photo.
“I expected it,” Harry continued and sighed. “I suppose I had better go do some damage control. Kingsley is going to chew me a new arsehole.”
“I hope not,” Draco said, struggling for a normal tone. “I rather like the one you have.”
To his delight, Harry blushed and leaned across the table to kiss Draco’s forehead. “Winky packed me a breakfast. Be sure to eat something before you dive back beneath the covers.”
“Yes, mother,” Draco said meekly and grinned when Harry Disapparated.
He set the paper on the table and smoothed it gently before tracing over the edge of Harry’s jaw line. He stared at the photo for a long time before he bothered to read the article.
~~O~~
As expected, Harry’s announcement had repercussions, beginning almost the instant he arrived at work. He made a mental note to have Draco teach him the spell for containing and destroying the Howlers – he could have used it for the ones fluttering around his desk.
Before he could even acknowledge the hate mail, however, he first had to deal with Hermione Granger. She stood in his office with arms akimbo and foot tapping with impatience—never a welcome sight.
Harry sighed as he dropped his outer robes over a nearby chair. Hermione slammed the door, locked it, and cast a Silencing Charm.
“Out with it,” she demanded.
Harry grinned sheepishly and slid into his seat, hoping the heavy oak desk would provide some protection should she decide to start hexing him. It did nothing to deflect the waves of disapproval she currently directed at him.
“Out with what?” he asked as a stalling technique. “I came out last night, remember?”
She leaned over his desk. “Harry James Potter, it’s bad enough you were keeping a secret like this from me and Ron, your best friends, but the fact that you seem to have taken up with Draco bloody Malfoy defies sanity!”
Harry frowned as conflicting emotions assaulted him. Chief among them was guilt—he knew he should have brought her into his confidence, although perhaps not Ron, because Ron would most likely need years to assimilate the revelation of Harry’s preferences alone, but Hermione… Close on the heels of his guilt was a flare of defensive annoyance. It was his life and Draco was his business.
“I went to your flat, although it looks as though you have not been there in months from the state of it. Please tell me you are not shacking up with that blond menace!”
Harry glared and his hands clenched. “He is not a menace and I think I am quite grown up enough to decide who I will and will not shack up with!”
She reared back with a gasp and her eyes widened. “Oh bloody hell, you are living with him! I had hoped it was merely a lark or a one-off. How long has this been going on, Harry?”
He flushed and set his jaw, revealing nothing. The guilt he felt for not telling her he was gay was nothing next to the knowledge that his relationship with Draco was not at all what she thought. If she knew he was paying Malfoy he would not hear the end of it if he lived to be two hundred.
“Harry, you know what he is! You know what he’s done in the past and what he’s capable of—have you been checked for the Imperius Curse?”
“I am not under an Imperius, Hermione! For Merlin’s sake, it’s just a fling. Neither of us is serious and we’re not having a bloody relationship or anything stupid like that!”
“A fling. With Draco Malfoy. Could you not have found anyone else in this entire world more suitable?” she demanded.
Harry launched himself to his feet angrily. “No, I could not! For your information there is no one else in the world for me! There is only him! And he’s not who you think he is, not any more! He’s warm and kind, and creative, and funny, and intelligent and he—” Harry trailed off at Hermione’s flabbergasted expression.
“Oh no. Oh no, no, no,” she said in a voice barely louder than a whisper. “It can’t be. Harry, you’re in love with him.”
Harry gaped at her and then burst out laughing as he sank back down in his seat. It sounded somewhat hysterical even to his ears, so he cut it short. “Godric, no! Of course I’m not. We simply… have an arrangement. It’s only temporary.”
Her brown eyes pierced him and her mouth twisted into a sceptical line. “Does he know that? It seems to be quite some arrangement, judging by that kiss last night. I thought I might have to turn a cold shower on you both.”
Harry flushed scarlet, remembering the kiss. He could not admit to her that it had been their only kiss. She would pry at him until he spilled everything. If she ever found out that Draco was nothing more than a rentboy… Harry groaned.
“I’ll be fine,” he assured her. “It’s only a matter of convenience.”
“Convenience,” she repeated, obviously not convinced. At his grim nod, she sighed and Harry almost sagged with relief, recognizing the sign that she meant to retreat, at least for now. “All right, then, but you had better hope the press never catches wind of his identity.” She gestured at the letters and Howlers littering his desk. “Or this will seem like a child’s picnic.”
“I know that. I am doing my best to keep Dra—Malfoy protected from this. I don’t want him…” Hurt, he nearly finished.
“Using it to his advantage?” she finished for him.
“He won’t do that,” Harry insisted.
She rolled her eyes. “I am very concerned that you have suddenly become Draco Malfoy’s biggest supporter, Harry. I suggest you have yourself checked for the Imperius Curse or possible Obliviation.” She held up a hand to halt his protest. “Even if you think you don’t need it. Do it for my sake, all right?”
He frowned and nodded, already knowing he would never comply. He had suspected the same thing in the beginning and a Detection Spell had revealed nothing. Harry’s feelings for Draco—whatever they were—belonged to him alone.
Hermione nodded and her features softened. “I do care about you, Harry. You know that.”
“I know,” he said.
She unlocked the door and lifted the spells, but paused before turning the handle. “By the way, I suggest you meet with Ron as soon as possible. He is not taking this as well as I am. And he doesn’t even know the identity of your… friend.”
Harry buried his head in his hands and mentally thanked her for not disclosing that particular titbit. Ron would never forgive him for taking up with Draco, but there was no need for him ever to find out. His arrangement with Draco would be over soon enough. Too soon for Harry.
He looked at the stack of mail on his desk and shoved them all to the floor with a violent motion of his arm. One of the Howlers began to smoke and expel sparks.
Fuck.
~~ O ~~
Draco shamelessly opened all of Harry’s mail and destroyed the less than flattering, rude, or blatantly hateful letters, keeping only those that were supportive of Harry’s disclosure. There were a surprising number of positive missives, proof of the public’s never-ending love affair with the Boy Who Lived. Still, there were enough of the other kind, no doubt fuelled by the nastiness of the Daily Prophet articles, that Draco sat back with his cup of tea and pondered Harry’s reaction. The Gryffindor would likely sit back stoically and take whatever was thrown at him.
Which was not quite good enough for Draco.
He went upstairs, dressed quickly, and departed.
Draco sat across from Maxwell Smead, a man whose services he had never required, although he remembered accompanying his father to the man’s office on several occasions. Smead stared at him suspiciously through spectacles with huge lenses that made his eyes look watery and bovine. Draco had always secretly thought of him as Oxwell Smead, especially when the matted black hair plastered against the man’s round head did little to dispel his resemblance to a Spanish bull. Draco half-expected him to moo instead of speak.
“What ye need this fer?” Smead asked. Rather than lowing, the man’s voice was harsh and raspy. He most likely imbibed several illegal potions on a daily basis, judging by the shaking of his hands and the sickly colour of his skin.
“What I need it for is none of your business,” Draco snapped, but sighed when the man’s lips thinned into a line of annoyance. “If you must know, I have never been a friend of Harry Potter. I found these articles rather amusing and would like to send the author a token of appreciation, as well as give him—or her—some incentive to continue mocking the Boy Who Lived.”
Smead blinked at him, which was a disconcerting enough sight that Draco nearly had to look away. Moooo, he thought.
“What’d ‘e ever do ter ye?” Smead asked.
Draco fought to keep a straight face and thanked the years of schooling that enabled him to maintain a placid façade while he thought, What did he do? He fucked me seven ways from Sunday just this week. “He made my school years a living hell. He contributed to the loss of my father, my estate, and my inheritance! That is what the prat has done to me!” Draco’s voice rose stridently and Smead sat back in his chair quickly, as if to dive beneath his desk if Draco chose to throw hexes in a rage. It had probably happened in the past, even though many of Smead’s clients came from the higher echelons of wizarding society.
“Makes no nevermind ter me,” Smead said and shrugged. “Long as ye can cough up me price.”
“Which is?” Draco asked dryly.
“One hundred Galleons.”
Draco scowled. The bloody bastard! That was utter robbery and Draco knew it. “One hundred? For a bloody name? I could probably call the Daily Prophet and get it myself.”
Smead made a wet sound in his throat, as though a wad of phlegm had caught there and prevented him taking a breath. He repeated it and shrugged. “Ye can try. Them’s nearly as tight-lipped at the Prophet as they are at the Ministry. Luck to ye.”
Draco nearly growled. “I do not have the time to deal with this matter. It’s merely a trifle, anyway. A lark.” Draco dipped into the pouch at his waist and extracted a number of coins. Truthfully, he had expected the price to be slightly higher. Smead must have heard about the loss of the Malfoy fortune and taken pity on him; after all, a small fee was better than no fee.
“Pleasure doin’ business wit’ ye, Malfoy. I’ll get this ter ye afore day’s end.”
Draco nodded and gladly escaped the man’s repulsive presence.
~~ O ~~
Harry could not escape the office quickly enough. Between the hate mail, the Howlers, the curious, smirking, or blatantly rude looks of his co-workers to an extremely unpleasant reaming by Kingsley—who was far more upset about Harry’s timing rather than the actual event—he felt utterly drained and exhausted by the time noon arrived. He gratefully Flooed home, hoping Draco would be awake.
The house was quiet, but a delightful smell wafted from the kitchen. Winky must be cooking. Harry’s stomach rumbled and he realized that even with a pounding headache, he was famished. “Draco?” he called hopefully.
To his surprise, the blond appeared in the archway to the living room, clad only in black silk pyjama bottoms and a white button-up shirt that was completely unbuttoned. It was, quite possibly, Harry’s favourite of all the outfits Draco wore. Judging by the smirk, Draco was well aware of the fact.
“Rough day, so far?” Draco purred and moved forward sinuously.
“It’s starting to look up,” Harry admitted, feeling a heady rush at Draco’s nearness.
Draco tsked and his hands lifted to the clasp that fastened Harry’s Auror robes. He deftly released it and eased the fabric away—it fell to the floor with a heavy rustle. The buttons of Harry’s shirt were next. Draco pushed each one through the hole and parted the shirt. He put his cool hands on Harry’s chest and trailed them gently over his skin in slow circles before tweaking at his nipples, pulling them into hard peaks. Harry moaned and reached for Draco, but his hands were blocked when the blond grabbed his wrists. He moved forward, forcing Harry back against the wall, nearly knocking over the umbrella stand. He pressed Harry’s wrists against the wall for a moment before dipping his head to taste the hollow of Harry’s throat.
“Draco,” Harry breathed. The hands left his wrists and moved back to his chest. Harry kept his hands against the wall, allowing Draco to take the lead. He heard a banging from the kitchen and realized they probably should not do this in the entryway, but when Draco sucked on his pulse point he forgot to care.
Draco’s hips rocked forward suddenly, grinding his erection into Harry’s with delicious pressure. “Hard for me again, Harry?”
“Always. Fuck, always.”
Draco raised his head and their eyes locked for a moment. Draco thrust sharply, causing Harry to wince even as he moaned. His trousers were in the way. He wanted to feel all of Draco. His hands dropped away from the wall, but Draco quickly pushed them back into place with a glare. “Bad Auror.”
Harry couldn’t help it. He smiled.
“Don’t move,” Draco admonished and stepped back far enough to put his hands on the fasteners of Harry’s trousers. Harry felt strangely exposed with his arms flat against the wall and his shirt open to Draco’s hot gaze. The blond dropped to his knees and yanked open Harry’s trousers just far enough to expose his cock. Dishes rattled again, startling him, but he could not have moved if his life depended on it. Please let Winky stay in the kitchen, he begged the heavens silently.
Draco smirked as if reading Harry’s mind and then licked the head of his cock in a slow, maddening circle before lapping up the spurt of precome that leaked from the tip. He took the hood into his mouth and sucked, nearly making Harry’s vision go white. Draco’s fingers remained curled in the open waistband of his trousers—he did not touch Harry’s cock except with his mouth. He alternately flicked with his tongue, swirled, lapped, and then sucked hard, keeping his attention only on the head, never touching the shaft. It was both maddening and fuckingly, mind-blowingly hot.
Draco’s licks were delicate torture, easing Harry back from the brink of orgasm with pauses between just long enough to make him want to scream before the next brush of wet tongue over the throbbing head. Harry’s hands shook against the wallpaper and his palms were wet with sweat. Just when he though he could take no more, Draco would envelope the tip and suck, hollowing his cheeks with the effort. Harry lasted far, far longer than he would have imagined, but finally the sucking did him in.
“Draco, oh Merlin, Draco, Draco, fuck, I’m going to—”
Even then, Draco did not take it all; he simply allowed Harry’s come to fill his mouth. His eyes were shut and his face looked incredible with his lips wrapped around Harry’s pulsing cock. A white dribble leaked from the corner of his mouth before he swallowed and then sucked one last time, pulling a ragged gasp from Harry’s throat with the last of his release.
Harry was shaking. Just when he thought nothing Draco did could surprise him. He lowered one hand and wiped the liquid away with his thumb as Draco’s eyes opened. His tongue licked once more over Harry’s slit, causing him to shiver.
“If Masters are being finished their lunch is being ready for eating,” Winky said and Harry’s head snapped around. The house-elf stood in the doorway to the kitchen, watching them placidly.
She disappeared as Draco’s laughter filled the hallway.
Chapter Ten