In The Flesh.
Disclaimer: Rowling = rich, successful, published author. Me = poor, glum, struggling student. Yes, I can see how you'd get us confused.
In The Flesh
Status: Complete.
Series: No. This is a one shot.
Rated: R/NC-17.
Pairing: Draco/Harry.
Warning: m/m goings on (duh). A couple of not nice words.
Summary: Everybody gets tired of simply watching. Eventually they'll want more.
Author's Note: This was originally just up to the first 'break' but even I kept thinking 'well what would happen then?' so I finished it off … sort of.
He smiled. She knew but said nothing. That was how it had been for a long time now, almost three years. They had spoken about it once, but that had only left them feeling awkward and uncomfortable around each other. So now it stayed like this, she knew and didn't say anything, he knew and tried not to think about what her silence meant. He could never tell whether it was because she trusted him, or evidence that she didn't really him love as much as she claimed. It worried him sometimes, his indecision about which of those two situations he would prefer. He hated thinking that it would be easier if she didn't care so much. He didn't like to think of himself as a coward, hoping that she would one day leave him and he wouldn't have to put her through this.
He loved her, he was sure he did. Every day he told himself how lucky he was to have her. She was good looking and intelligent. She was generous and pleasant.
She was nice.
He almost visibly cringed when he thought that. It sounded awful, to refer to somebody as 'nice'. As if you couldn't think of anything more positive to say about them. And he knew that wasn't true. She had many wonderful qualities, so why did he always say 'nice'?
"Be home for dinner, Harry."
He smiled again less guilt this time; she had a lovely voice, sweet and low. Not one of those grating northern accents that needed a day's worth of energy to decipher. He gave her a quick nod, kissed her hand and headed off to Gringotts.
After a tedious cart ride, he'd done this too often he supposed, there and a monotonous ride back, he thanked the mildly hostile goblin and then left Diagon Alley completely. He caught the underground and looked out the window, counting the number of lights that flashed by and then hopped off when it came to the stop he wanted. He'd been doing this for a little over five years, only a couple of months after he'd finished school. At first he'd felt overwhelming guilt because he was lying to Lisa, but things were much better now. He hoped.
He walked through the streets, lost in thought with menial things to keep his mind from the small amount of guilt that always seemed to linger, until he arrived at the building he wanted. The lobby looked perfectly normal, which was only to be expected as this was an establishment that catered to both magical and muggle.
Standing next to the reception desk, Harry shifted to hold his hands behind his back, knowing that Emily would turn up soon. And she did, wandering in while scribbling something on her check list. She looked up and gave him a quick smile, heading back to behind her desk. "Ah, Mister ..." She glanced at the top page in her clipboard. "Potter?"
Harry smiled pleasantly. He liked this game of how she pretended to not know who he was while he pretended not to notice that she always flicked to the back of her book and wrote something down. He had at first been curious, when he saw that no one else ever seemed to get that treatment. Then he had been panicked that they were collecting evidence to go to the papers with, something he really didn't need. But the one time he had managed to force the words out and ask her about it, she had just patted him on the arm, saying he had nothing to worry about. He chose to take her at her word and had not been disappointed yet. "Yes, that's right. I have an appointment for 7 o'clock."
"Yes, well, I'm very sorry sir, but there is a problem."
He resisted the urge to sigh dramatically thinking it was typical that he only got one day a month to do this and now something was causing trouble. But he told his mind to be quiet and that this was the first time anything had gone wrong. "What is it?"
"Michael is off sick today."
"I see." He wasn't happy with this, he liked Michael, they got on well.
"Well, there are two options. You could reschedule or you could go wait and I'll see if anyone else is available."
Harry quickly ran it through his head, trying to see the likelihood of getting another day to leave work early or talking Lisa into it. He didn't want to do that, she was being more than accommodating already. "Er, I think I'll go and wait." He handed a small pouch over.
"That's fine." Emily nodded, writing some more on her sheet and then turned to walk off. "I'll show you to your room."
He followed her through the door that led them to the wing of the building where the magical community were shown to and hopped on the first spiralling staircase.
"I am really sorry about this, sir. An owl was sent out to notify you but you must have already been on your way."
"That's all right. Some things can't be avoided."
"I appreciate your tolerance; his last client wasn't as understanding."
Harry shrugged, running his fingers along the banister. "People get sick, always have, always will. I've been coming to see him for three years and this is the first time he's never been here." He smiled at her. "Had to happen sometime."
He thanked her when she held open his door.
"I'll just go see to it right now, wouldn't want to forget." She smiled cheerfully and closed the door.
Harry sat down in the chair, the only piece of furniture that adorned the small room and warily eyed the metal tray that half stuck out of the wall to his right. The corners of those things were always sharp and even though he would have to lean and stretch to reach it from where he was, he still didn't like it being so close. Or maybe he didn't like it because it quietly and politely reminded him that he could have a little more, if he only allowed himself to do so. Shaking those thoughts away angrily, he looked to the plate of glass in front of him that stretched seven feet across. The only thing showing behind it was a black, wooden screen, not a very enticing view but he sat and waited, staring at the black
The black back disappeared abruptly after only a few minutes of waiting and Harry had to blink, trying to get his eyes to readjust. He removed his glasses to rub at the left one and got them to focus.
Silver eyes and a perfect smile, staring straight back at him. "Hello, Potter."
Harry's jaw didn't drop, but he couldn't exactly speak either. He absently readjusted his glasses.
"What's the matter?" Draco's smile widened. "Don't tell me I'm not your type?"
"Malfoy?" Harry screwed his face up when he heard that his voice ended up as a squeak when he finished the name.
"Such an excellent memory you have." Draco was sitting on what was considered his floor. The set up of the rooms were all the same. Small room with a chair that faced the glass. The glass started at about knee height for when you were sitting in the chair. That was where the 'floor' started for on the other side. Basically it was a raised stage and when the backing was removed you were left with a perfect view to who ever was sitting on the floor behind the glass.
That someone was currently Malfoy.
"So." Draco smiled. "How do you want it?"
Harry didn't allow himself to blush, mostly still too numb from surprise. But he did manage to get to his feet. "I'm leaving."
Draco stretched out on his floor. "Fair enough. Never thought you'd be the type to run from me, though."
Harry stopped, he hadn't even taken two steps away from his chair yet. "I'm not running away from you."
"Then what are you doing?"
Harry looked over to where Draco was now lying on his side, smiling pleasantly. "You are definitely not my type."
Draco shrugged casually. "Doesn't bother me, I get paid either way. You might spoil me for others, though. I can easily get used to getting money for doing nothing."
Again Harry didn't make it to the door. He turned back, observing the smug smile on Draco's face. Even though he could hardly believe it himself, he slowly walked back to his chair and sat down. "I never liked how you always got something for nothing."
"Says the man who lives mostly off his inheritance." Draco sent back without even hesitating.
"You don't know anything about me."
"Really? You have a mainly charitable job that you work from one in the afternoon until eight in the evening, the bleeding heart helping the helpless and all that rot. You get one evening off a month, the first day of every month including New Year's Day, so that you can come here. You've been a member since the day after your eighteenth birthday. You've never missed an appointment. You live with your girlfriend and I doubt that you've managed to keep what you do a secret from her for this long. But even though she knows, you probably feel guilty, which is why you always have your hands behind your back while you wait for Emily to show up. I know I wouldn't want people to see my fingers fidgeting, clearly giving my discomfit away." Draco paused, if only to take a breath. "How am I doing so far?"
Harry shifted, unsettled by all the things Draco had just said. "I don't recall paying 20 galleons to listen to you talk."
Draco sat up, inching closer towards the glass. "My mistake. What do you want me to do?"
"Earn your money for once?"
"Yes, but how? I'm not your regular, you'll have to tell me what you want."
Harry was seriously considering 'running away' very soon. He wasn't sure what would happen if he had to endure the blonde's company for much longer. And any which way it went down, it would be bad. "I want … I want …"
"Yes?"
Harry looked away and preferred to stare at his hands rather than meet the unnerving gaze that was fixed on him. "I want to know why you're working here."
"Not much choice really. After the war ended, not many people were exactly thrilled with the idea of hiring me." Draco moved closer to the glass again. "What do you want me to do?"
Harry took a deep breath and made sure his voice came out steady. "Take off your shirt."
Draco bowed his head in obedience and slowly undid every one of his buttons, pulling at the material to untuck it from his trousers. He slid it off his shoulders, leaving his torso covered by only a thin, cotton singlet.
"It's bad fashion to wear a singlet under your shirt, didn't you know that?"
Draco raised an eyebrow at Harry's comment before his lips curved into a smile. "Company policy. All employees must start off with at least three pieces of clothing."
Harry swallowed, his mouth suddenly feeling dry. "So you had to wear that because …"
"Because I'm wearing nothing under my trousers." Draco answered even though Harry hadn't quite managed to finish his question.
"Oh." Harry's mind had grabbed hold of that thought and ran with it. What little interest had been teased into existence with Draco removing his shirt so damn slowly was now flourishing nicely without any further help at all. He shifted in his chair, wondering why he'd never noticed how claustrophobic these rooms could seem. He took another calming breath, wishing that he hadn't started to sweat so much. "You won't be needing your wand. I don't go in for those sorts of things."
Obediently, Draco's wand was placed on top of his shirt, just off to the side.
"Your singlet."
Draco crossed his arms at his waist, still looking directly at his spectator and gradually closed his fingers so that they gripped the material.
Harry's patience was decreasing at an alarming rate but he told himself he wouldn't give in and command for the clothing to be removed. He wanted to wait until Draco fully complied with the mostly unspoken order.
Draco moved no further, his face betraying that he was well aware that one of them had to crack first.
He couldn't stand it anymore, he just couldn't. "Take it off."
The blonde's elbows had started to raise before the order had even been completed. Their eye contact was momentarily broken as the garment obscured Draco's face, but then the grey eyes were back, still looking straight at their target as the singlet was effortlessly tossed to the growing pile of clothes.
"Your trousers."
Draco titled his head, his blonde fringe falling out from behind his ear. "How?"
"All the way off."
Draco raised himself up on to his knees and studied Harry's face, watching as the green eyes only saw what his hands were doing. The top button undone, Draco allowed the zip to slowly lower and then pulled the two flaps of fabric as far apart as they could stretch. He smiled when he saw Harry's tongue slip out for a second to add some moisture to his lips. As if it was the most normal thing in the world, Draco pushed the material down past his hips until it pooled around his knees. He leant to the side, sitting gracefully and slowly removed first one leg from the garment, then the second. Tossing it to the pile, he lowered himself down to lie on his back, his knees bent up in the air but with his head to the side so he could look at Harry intently. "Still too slowly?"
Harry didn't answer, just looked at him. His heart was pounding so hard he felt as if he was getting dizzy. "Move your left leg to lie out straight." It was done. "I want you to touch yourself."
Draco smiled bringing his hands up to unhurriedly rub at his chest.
"Lower."
Draco dragged his hands down to smooth his fingers over his stomach. He could tell that Harry must have definitely been lying about him not being the right type. He had the perfect view of exactly how much Harry was not complaining.
"Lower. I want you to masturbate for me." Harry had no idea how he managed to say that without chocking on his own saliva or something just as embarrassing.
"What ever you wish." Draco murmured back, letting his eyes slip shut as he took hold of his own erection. He started at a fairly lazy pace, knowing that it probably wouldn't belong before his audience told him to hurry up. He was right.
"Faster." Harry was grateful that Draco's eyes were still closed as his own hand was now rubbing at his crotch. He'd always made Michael close his eyes at about this point, to self-conscious to do anything with another man watching. He pressed a little harder as he saw that Draco's breathing was speeding up. "Faster." He said, again. It was almost too much to endure.
Harry couldn't honestly say that Michael had never done anything for him. That was the point of this, after all, but it had never gone quite like this before. Then again, Michael hadn't been starring in Harry's fantasies since he was seventeen. There had been a number of people at school that Harry had indulged his thoughts in at some time or other, it was only natural at that age, but back then Draco had certainly been one of the more 'recurring' ones. Bastard or not he had been, still was, beautiful. And against all the politically correct arguments about the person inside, and not to judge people by how they looked, beauty was almost always a sure winner when it came to being a requirement for lust.
Harry could hear his own breathing; it sounded as if he'd just ran a marathon and while he knew that probably meant Draco could hear it, he couldn't quite bring himself to care at that moment. Besides, part of his brain that didn't seem to be wholly focussed on the sight in front of him reasoned that Draco might not be able to hear it over his own breathing. If Harry sounded like he'd ran a marathon, Draco must have run three. Although Harry couldn't think of a situation where a marathon runner would give a hitched sigh like the one he'd just heard. He sensed rather than actually saw that Draco's hand picked up speed of its own accord and decided the blonde hadn't earned his money just quite yet. "Stop." It was shaky, but that was compensated by him saying it louder than what he might have normally. It took a full three seconds for his words to sink in behind those grey eyes, he could tell when it had from the way they snapped open and glared at him.
But Draco obeyed and stopped what he was doing. Clearly biting a nasty comment back, the eyes softened and his face melted from angry to sulky. "That wasn't very nice." He stretched his legs, still lying lengthways and looked at Harry through his eyelashes, trying to gauge what was going on now.
Harry ignored the thought of what he was planning was a really bad idea and continued on. He was getting quite sick of his conscience away. "How much to vanish the glass?" He took a small amount of victory in the stunned on Draco's face before the blonde remembered himself. He wanted to make sure Draco was humiliated beyond belief. He needed Draco to do everything he said, obey him and concede. That was what he told himself anyway.
"Your membership doesn't cover that. You only have a green. You'd be needing at least a red to get what your asking for."
"I know." Harry sent one of his own confident smiles. "But I'm getting the idea you're not a fourth class."
Draco titled his head in a sign of agreement. "No, I'm not."
"So if you're a third class, it wouldn't be illegal for you to do it."
"Even so, a third class Pleasurant who knowingly exceeds his client's membership? That's grounds for termination in this company."
"You're worried about getting fired? Oh come on, Malfoy. It's only us." He frowned, leaning forward in his chair. "Not going to back down now, are you?"
Draco lifted himself up so that he was still leaning back on his hands. He looked at Harry for a long time before he smiled. "Very well."
"How much?"
Draco moved to his left to lean his shoulder on the glass. "For you, Harry? It's free."
"Nothing's free. Especially not from you."
"Well, maybe not, but how about we could just say that you'd owe me a little favour."
Harry smiled, shaking his head. "I'm not an idiot. I don't do 'favours' for you. Money only, paid up front as I'd like to avoid any nasty little repercussions. How much?"
Draco didn't look very thrilled with the 'no favour' situation but he didn't dwell on it for long. "How much have you got?"
Harry reached into the top inner pocket of his robe and pulled out a large pouch then dropped it on the arm of his chair, causing the coins inside to clink and scrape together. "And I have an eighty galleon credit at the bar that I can transfer."
Draco feigned surprise for some reason. "You have a bar tab? You've never had a drink here."
"It's just a back up precaution."
Draco looked at him again, noticing the sweat running down from his forehead. He calculated how much would be in the pouch and chose the highest number he knew Harry could afford, but wouldn't want to pay. "One hundred."
"Done."
Draco hid his surprise well as he watched Harry take out a few coins and then place the small bag in the metal tray stuck through the wall.
"Will a note authorising you to access my bar tab, be enough?"
"Fine." Draco leant his forehead on the glass, watching Harry carefully for any sign that this was a wind up. He didn't like to be toyed with but he stopped his scrutiny and shifted back a little when his breath started to make strange shapes on the glass.
Harry scribbled something down on the top page of a notebook he had taken out of one of his lower pockets and the tore the paper out, placing it in the tray and shutting it quickly, before he could change his mind. He watched, his heart still racing, as Draco leisurely reached for something out of his view, just to the side of the glass. With a soft sucking noise of air rushing to where it couldn't be before, the glass was gone and Harry swallowed as Draco got to his knees and crawled over to kneel directly in front of him. As the edge of the platform the blonde was on came up to Harry's knees from where he was sitting, Harry was experiencing the fascinating sensation of Draco towering over him, looking down. He might not have ever gone this far before but he knew the rules and moved his hands to rest on the arms of his chair, gripping them with his fingers.
"What do you want me to do?" Draco's smile wasn't arrogant, simply good-humoured.
"Touch me."
"Yes, that part was apparent. But where?" Draco made sure to draw the last word out, leaning down as he did so.
Harry shifted again, unable to find a comfortable way to sit what with his erection pressing painfully into his zipper. "Anywhere."
Slowly Draco lifted his right hand up, to rest on the left side of Harry's face. Dragging his thumb, across he wiped away the stray beads of sweat, bringing his hand to his mouth and licking the moisture off. His other hand came up, running his fingers down the front of Harry's throat and over his Adam's apple, lingering at the bottom until his hand rotated, allowing him to slide it down under the collar of the shirt. "How am I doing?"
"Too slow." It was what Harry had been thinking and even though he hadn't wanted to say it, the smile he received somehow gave him the impression it had been the right thing to do.
The fingers that lay on his chest under the top of his shirt, slowly drifted back and forth as far as they could given the awkward angle Draco had to hold his wrist at. Harry started slightly when he felt the other hand come to rest on his thigh, fingers clenching a little and massaging the muscles underneath his clothes. Obviously Draco's wrist got to uncomfortable because the hand slid back up, feather light touches on his jaw and throat which made the skin feel itchy. Harry had to remind himself that he couldn't raise his hand to rub at it and make the feeling stop. Your hands weren't allowed to leave the arms of the chair when you were doing this.
Harry couldn't endure the unwavering gaze that was still directed at him, not when it was so close, so he shifted his eyes from Draco and stared over the other man's shoulder at the wall. But he could still feel it on him, even when he realised that the hand on his thigh had glided up to press against his erection, the eyes didn't leave his face. He let out a shaky breath as he felt the button of his slacks being undone and refused to give into the little voice in his head that was begging him to stop all this now.
Mercifully Draco didn't undo the zip at the slowest possible speed, instead opting for smoothly unfastening it then coaxing Harry to stand for a moment. Harry thought he should have felt slightly embarrassed by having someone, especially this someone, undoing his clothes and moving them around, but he reasoned that maybe it wasn't so bad considering Draco's eyes hadn't moved off his face, not even to work the button or the zip.
When he sat back down Harry carefully avoided Draco's attempt at eye contact, still preferring to stare at the wall. His lips partly slightly when he first felt the warm hand sliding around his leaking erection but no sound came out. He shuddered at first sliding stroke downwards and pressed his lips together firmly as Draco's hand made the journey back up. Again a stroke down and Harry felt the sensitive skin stretch to its limit before Draco pulled back up. "Faster." He only managed a whisper.
Draco complied and Harry really had to force his lips closed so that no embarrassing noises could make their way out of his throat. Still the eyes didn't leave his face and it was really intimidating him now. "Do you have to stare at my face." He muttered softly. He then had to close his eyes because, out of the corner of his left he saw Draco smile and move his grey eyes down to where his hand was. If Harry thought it was uncomfortable having Draco stare at his face, this was even more so. "Close your eyes, Draco."
When Harry opened his own to see if he had been obeyed he was treated to the sight of Draco, head partially lowered, eyes closed. An almost serene look on his face. Green eyes now felt free to stare, without the challenging look being returned. A tiny gasp forced its way from between Harry's lips when Draco's grip tightened faintly. His fingers dug into the chair arms hard enough for his knuckles to go white. But there was something missing and he knew it. It felt colder than what he'd always pictured. He titled his head to his right, away from the blonde hair, and coughed out his next request. "Kiss my throat." He knew Draco didn't have to follow this one, that he would be within his right to say no or ask for a higher fare, but the blonde simply opened his eyes to get his bearings and leaned forward, attaching his lips to Harry's throat. Harry let his head fall back a little further, not even noticing that his own right hand had moved from the chair until he felt the warm smooth skin of Draco's shoulder under it.
Draco stilled for a moment and Harry was overwhelmed by how much he was disturbed by the thought of this being stopped. He cursed himself in his mind, wondering what exactly he had been thinking. He knew he wasn't allowed to touch and it looked like Draco was going to pull away at any second. He was stunned when all that happened was that Draco's hand started up again and the soft lips on his throat sealed around a small section of his skin and sucked. Harry's fingers tightened on Draco's shoulder and the absurd thought of 'That's gonna leave a mark' floated through briefly before his brain turned all its attention to making him moan.
Draco released his throat just long enough to move up to another tender part, just below his jaw and proceed on leaving a mark there as well.
Harry made a sound that was halfway between a moan and a sigh, his hand sliding down Draco's side until it reached his hip. Confused by Draco's apparent lack of concern to the amount of rules they were breaking today, Harry figured he'd better not look a gift horse in the mouth. At least, he thought that was how the saying went. It was hard to focus on considering that Draco's other hand had undone two of his shirt buttons and was currently rubbing his right nipple with slow strokes of his thumb.
It was when Harry's tentative, enquiring hand brushed over Draco's neglected erection that the blonde pulled away as if he'd been burned. Harry muttered a nasty expletive under his breath as he felt it all go away. The hand from his groin, the lips on his throat, the other hand from out of his shirt. He supposed he'd finally found Draco's breaking point and was pretty disappointed. Only to be practically knocked back into his chair when Draco came back.
All the blonde had done was simply shifted himself, swung his legs around so that he could sit instead of kneeling. He pressed his feet to the sides of Harry's shin and moved forward. His right hand moved back to where it had been, wrapping around the soft skin and slipping slightly from his sweaty palm. Draco's mouth refastened on to Harry's throat as his other hand came up to rest on the side he couldn't reach, rubbing his fingers along the jugular.
Harry took a moment to recover from his surprise before he worked his hand between them again and found what he was looking for. He felt sticky fluid under his skin and flexed his fingers, spreading it more and smiled when Draco shifted closer. Though he'd never actually done this to someone else again, he figured if he just tried to match what Draco was doing he couldn't really go wrong. "Faster." He whispered, knowing it sounded more like a pleading than a command.
Draco was kissing up his throat, then along his jaw, but it wasn't enough so Harry moved his head back, turned it slightly then brought it back in and pressing his lips to Draco's. He wasn't too sure which of the two tongues made the first move but they were both rubbing against each other by the time his hand had come up to rest on the back of Draco's head, threading through his hair and making sure that the other man couldn't pull away in case he suddenly tried to.
The thoughts of how what he was doing was wrong, crazy, stupid, finally drifted out of Harry's mind as Draco kissed him back. It all seemed so normal now. But he had to break the kiss to take a big enough breath for when his orgasm started. At any other time he probably would have been embarrassed that he finished first, given that Draco had been given a head start only a little while ago, but right then all he could think was 'Finally'. He caught his breath and then moved back in to kiss him again. It didn't seem right to be touching him like that without kissing him, made it feel hollow. Especially as Draco's other hand was still rubbing its fingers along the side of his throat.
His own fingers ached and his wrist was starting to cramp, but Draco was whispering such nice things into his mouth that Harry didn't dare to stop. He knew it was almost over when Draco's feet tensed, compressing his shins together. He dimly heard Draco's sharp breath, felt something warm and wet dripping on to his still clothed thigh, but his hand kept moving until Draco grabbed his wrist and forced him to let go, whining with what was probably discomfit at the overload of sensation.
Draco was also the one to break the kiss and they sat there, both still breathing heavily, only having the energy to just look at each other. For a moment Harry was sure he'd seen something resembling panic in the eyes that stared back at him, but then it was gone. Embarrassed slightly, he removed his hand from the blonde hair and let the other man move away a little.
"I never thought you would vanish the glass." Draco slid back, picking up his shirt and draping it across his lap, attempting to cover himself up. The movement was almost humorous considering what they had just been doing to each other, but neither of them smiled.
Harry's breathing had returned to normal, but all he could do was watch as the other man moved a little further back. His first non-Draco related thought was that he was a dead man.
Draco hastily ran a hand through his hair, trying to fix what Harry had done to it and smooth it back down somewhat. "I think your time is up." He muttered, suddenly not looking at him anymore. He knew that he'd lost control of the situation somewhere and it unsettled him. The only way he could think of to win the control back was to leave, very quickly.
Harry nodded and sat there as Draco unvanished the glass and then raised the backing. He stared at the black before normal feeling returned to his fingers, his mind was already regaining command and trying to work out exactly where it stood. He drew himself to his feet and hurriedly fixed up his clothing. The only things he could focus on was how that was just as good as he'd ever imagined and how the hell was he going to even look at Lisa. On shaky legs he headed out and made it to the public restroom, washing his hands and trying to make the slight discolouration on his right trouser thigh fade a little and not give himself away the second he got to the lobby where there were going to be people. People who could look at him and just know. It stared hopelessly at the three marks on his throat. Nobody could mistake them for being anything other than what they were. He took his wand out and attempted to at least conceal them, seeing as how he didn't know the first thing about how to remove them completely. He gave a brisk nod to Emily in the lobby and made it to the outside street, relieved that so far he'd managed to get away with it.
He didn't notice much of his journey home, just bits and pieces like stopping to cross a road here, smiling at someone who said hello there. Before he was ready, though he couldn't imagine he ever would be, he was standing outside his front door. Opening it was an automatic muscle memory, as was walking in and heading for the living room.
"Hi honey. You're just in time, dinner's ready. I thought we'd have some Italian so I tried out this new pasta dish." Lisa smiled, wiping her hands on the apron that was tired around her waist.
He smiled, almost feeling disgusted with himself for doing it. "Hey there, that sounds great." He gave her a kiss.
**********
Harry was telling himself to go home. He was telling himself repeatedly. A seemingly endless stream of 'Go home's were rumbling around in his mind. His feet paid no attention and firmly kept him standing next to Emily's desk.
She emerged from the back, dealing with a rather irritated female client who was saying something about hygiene. Eventually they sorted something out and the client left, Emily automatically turned to her desk. And nearly dropped her clipboard when she saw Harry standing there.
To her credit, she covered her surprise well but Harry didn't miss how she looked to the calendar, clearly checking that she hadn't missed a few weeks. When she looked back to him, she smiled friendly and walked over to him.
"Can I help you, sir?"
Every other time Harry had thought their 'Who are you?' game was cute but he wasn't in the mood for it today. Two weeks of not quite looking Lisa in the eye, of calling himself some unpleasant names under his breath, of impatiently waiting for the next month to arrive and hating himself for it in the process. Two weeks, he didn't even last the month. He decided 'hating' didn't sound harsh enough and moved on to 'loathing'. But he held his head high, knowing that at least he was here to set things straight, not make them worse, which he might have done if he'd caved in a few days ago. "I was here two weeks ago, the day Michael was off sick and you said you'd send me a replacement." He crossed his arms. "Well, I would like to make a complaint."
She caught his impatient tone and nodded. "If you'll just wait here, sir. I'll go check with the records."
He watched her leave and contemplated heading to the in house bar before deciding that alcohol would not be the best idea if he was going to be seeing the evil incarnate again. He'd truly convinced himself that this was all Malfoy's fault. He ignored how he had been the one to initiate everything. He had agreed to stay when the opportunity to leave had been there. But he'd only done that because it would look like he was running away. He'd paid for the glass to be vanished. He held tightly to his lame excuse of wanting to humiliate the blonde further. He told him to touch him. He had touched him of his own free will. He had kissed him back.
Harry uncrossed his arms so he could shove his hands in his pockets, now repeating to himself that he wasn't to blame, that Malfoy had done something to him to force him to do those things. That he wasn't like that, he just wasn't.
He held those thoughts close as Emily returned.
"Well, I've checked the books and I'm very sorry, Mr Potter. I don't know how that happened and I hope you didn't wait long. You should have said something at the time, I would have fixed it all up instantly."
"What do you mean?"
"I was sure I passed on the message for someone to attend to you. I don't know what went wrong, but I hope you realise we don't make it a policy to keep our clients waiting when no one has been sent for." She hurriedly scribbled a few more things at the back of her clipboard. "Someone definitely should have turned up, I apologise again for our lack of organisation."
Harry frowned, more out of confusion than any dwindling anger. "Look, I don't know what you're talking about. I want to see Malfoy." Though the thoughts running through his head were of a more violent nature. Which somehow managed to turn into a not so violent nature. Harry stopped his train of thought right there.
"Diem?"
"D … M? He goes by his initials?"
"No. Diem … as in Carpe." Emily smiled mischievously. "We used to call him Sunshine, until he found out and threatened to make sure we landed in Unemployment. So we switched to Diem."
Harry sighed, growing tired of all of this. "Well that's cute, it really is, but I want to see him."
"Mr Potter, I can assure you I am capable of fixing this. There's no need to bring him in."
"But it's all his fault!"
"Sir, if any fault was made, it was by me. Diem has little to do with the daily running of clients. He has other things to see to."
He was convinced he was starting to sound slightly hysterical from impatience and guilt. "Look I don't care who or what he's seeing to, I want to strangle the little bastard. Why would he be seeing to anything anyway?"
"Well, he is the manager as well as simply being the owner. Though few people really take enough interest to know that."
Harry was certain he'd heard her wrong. "I beg your pardon?"
"The manager. He … manages. Employees, payrolls, those sort of things." Her smile had faded. "He doesn't deal with clients very often. That's what he hired me for."
Harry was getting the nasty feeling that he had to sit down, before anything embarrassing happened to his knees. "He … owns here?"
Emily smiled nervously, suddenly looking uncertain with the situation. "Well, yes. I thought you knew that? I just assumed because … well you went to school with him. Didn't you?"
All he could do was nod.
Her smiled failed her again. "If you didn't know he was the owner, why did you want to see him?"
Harry could feel his face burning. His thoughts were racing at this point, trying to work it all out, but failing. "He … he was behind the glass." It was the nicest way he could bring himself to say it.
She frowned for a moment before her eyes widened. "Are you saying …" She stopped herself and looked around, though the lobby was relatively empty. When she spoke again her voice was softer, clearly trying to keep the conversation private. "I think perhaps this should be dealt strictly between the two of you." She removed a card from her clipboard and handed it over. "He only comes in about twice a month. Most days he spends at home, this is where you can find him."
Harry took the card wordlessly and turned to leave. He could feel her eyes on him the whole time before the door swung shut behind him. Only once he was safely outside did he read the address that was written on the note. He walked a few blocks down and caught the underground again.
He sat there, staring at his hands, as his mind tried to piece together everything it had to go on. It didn't leave him with much. For reasons unknown, Draco Malfoy, snob, pain in the neck and all round not-nice guy, had posed as a stripper ... in his own strip-club. And, also for reasons unknown, Harry Potter, nice guy, adulterating idiot and clearly an all round airhead, hadn't exactly needed a wand held to his head to let it all happen.
He thought about blaming it on his hormones and decided that sounded too pathetic. He looked at the option of being under the influence of a subtle yet potent curse and had to disregard it as highly unlikely. He tried to think of any reason other than he'd been given one tiny chance at attaining some bastard he used to have a crush on.
He failed.
And that was the thought he was left with as he blindly made his way out of the underground and headed in the direction he hoped the apartment building was. He, after all these years, had been given the chance of getting Malfoy, just once, and he'd jumped at it with barely a hesitation. Just when he thought he couldn't possibly hate himself any more than what he had in the last couple of weeks, Harry found his inner reserves and sunk to never before seen lows.
He nearly walked past the address, he was so wrapped up in wondering what the hell he was going to do. He smiled, somewhat dazed, at the doorman who didn't even question who he was and just let him in. He nodded a hello to some woman in the elevator who had recognised him. He politely moved out of the way of some German tourists that were talking animatedly to their English host and waving their wands, trying to convey whatever it was they were saying with sparkles and light beams.
He'd had to move, as there were seven of them, and he was standing in the absolute centre of the corridor, staring at the number on the door. The number that coincided with the number on the card. He glared at the door. Nothing happened. He growled at the door. Nothing continued to happen. He told himself he was acting if he was five and that if he was going to knock, or blow the door up, now would be the time to do which ever it was that he chose.
His good nature voted for 'knock'. His guilt and high embarrassment level voted for the 'blowing up of stuff' option. His rising anger joined in with his guilt. His common sense hastily teamed up with his good nature and they were then joined by his paranoia of seeing his snarling, crazed face on tomorrow's Daily Prophet with the headline 'Saviour Slaughters Snob in Strip-club Scandal'. The winner was clear.
He got out his wand to blow the door up.
Fortunately, or unfortunately, depending on who's point of view you were looking from, the door opened of its own accord before Harry could say anything. Well, not entirely of its own accord. Someone from the other side had opened it. And that someone was now looking at Harry calmly, fully noticing the raised wand.
"Most people knock, Potter."
Just looking at the blonde was enough for Harry to nearly scream with rage, the soothing voice only adding to it. "I took a quick vote." He practically had to spit the words out. "Knocking lost."
"Well, then it's rather fortunate that I was just heading to the lobby. Do you have any idea how much good-quality oak doors cost these days?"
"I'm sure you can afford it."
Draco looked behind him as laughter drifted out the door towards them. He moved forward into the corridor, partially closing the door behind him, leaving only a small gap. "Just because you have money is no reason to spend it."
"Why am I not surprised that you're cheap?"
Draco smiled arrogantly. "Ah, but I'm not. Or had you forgotten?"
Harry crushed the urge to break the man's nose. "That's exactly what I came to talk to you about. What the hell do you think you are doing?"
Draco sighed softly. "I figured you'd find out." He leant casually on the doorframe. "I just knew … the second I decided to go through with it, that if you didn't already know that I owned the place, you soon would." He looked at Harry, a nicer smile playing on his lips. "Knew you'd ask about me."
"Only so I could break your face."
"Sorry, not really into that sort of thing."
"I don't recall saying you'd have the choice to get out of it."
"Look, Harry." Draco shifted his weight to his other foot, but didn't seem to want to be the first to look away. "I know you're a little angry that I may have deceived you. But you can't be entirely surprised that I didn't tell you the whole truth?"
"You lied."
"Well, no, not really. I do work there, after all. Just not by doing what I may have led you to believe."
Harry didn't care how charmingly the other man smiled. All he could think right now was what he'd done to Lisa, and she didn't even know about it yet. He scowled at the door as more laughter trickled out from behind it. "Invite in a pack of hyenas, did you?"
"Just a few friends, over for dinner. We're celebrating."
"My humiliating demise?"
"Honestly, Harry, not everything in this world is about you. It's my birthday."
Harry was finding it hard to remain fuming with the other man being so calm. He sneered anyway. "Sorry I couldn't get you a present."
Draco's smile widened. "Oh, but you did. And thank you."
Harry couldn't stop himself this time, it was the smile that had done it. His hand darted out and before either of them knew what it was doing, his fingers were wrapped around the other's throat. "What the hell do I tell my girlfriend?" He snarled.
Draco's smile was fading slowly. "That's really none of my concern, or even my problem. I didn't force you to do anything. If I recall correctly, you were the one doing all the 'taking charge' stuff."
"You must have had something to do with it. I'm not the kind of person to threaten a five year relationship just because some super conceited snob has an over inflated opinion of his own pathetic charms."
Draco scowled, his throat flexing under Harry's fingers as he swallowed. "Well perhaps you are. Let's look at the evidence that supports that shall we?" His hand came up to rest on Harry's wrist. "And I've never heard anyone else say that I have no appeal."
"Maybe you simply weren't listening hard enough? I can think of at least fifty people from school."
Draco snorted softly. "A statement like that made out of jealousy or badly concealed desire loses some its significance, wouldn't you say?"
"Look, let's forget about all the 'who's fault' and 'what now' bullshit. I only want to know one thing."
"Then make it quick will you, you're beginning to bore me."
"Why?" Harry loosened his grip slightly, which meant Draco allowed his own hand to fall back down again. Harry paid no notice. "Why did you do it?"
Draco was looking less and less calm by the minute and this question didn't appear to help it. "I did it because I was bored." He looked him in the eye and then gave a small frown as if he was confused. "What did you do it for?"
Harry scowled, releasing the other man's throat and turned to leave as Draco's face started to betray the rising smirk of victory. "Grow up, Malfoy."
"I have. Surely you noticed that during our mini class reunion." Was the mocking retort. "Perhaps more people should be invited to the next one?"
Harry refused to reply, took out his wand as he walked away and Disapparated in mid-step.
The smirk faded from Draco's face to leave behind a thoughtful look. With the reason he had been heading to the lobby completely forgotten, he gave one last glance to where Harry had stood and went back inside, closing the door softly.
(Last bit, was a bit too long for LJ)
In The Flesh
Status: Complete.
Series: No. This is a one shot.
Rated: R/NC-17.
Pairing: Draco/Harry.
Warning: m/m goings on (duh). A couple of not nice words.
Summary: Everybody gets tired of simply watching. Eventually they'll want more.
Author's Note: This was originally just up to the first 'break' but even I kept thinking 'well what would happen then?' so I finished it off … sort of.
He smiled. She knew but said nothing. That was how it had been for a long time now, almost three years. They had spoken about it once, but that had only left them feeling awkward and uncomfortable around each other. So now it stayed like this, she knew and didn't say anything, he knew and tried not to think about what her silence meant. He could never tell whether it was because she trusted him, or evidence that she didn't really him love as much as she claimed. It worried him sometimes, his indecision about which of those two situations he would prefer. He hated thinking that it would be easier if she didn't care so much. He didn't like to think of himself as a coward, hoping that she would one day leave him and he wouldn't have to put her through this.
He loved her, he was sure he did. Every day he told himself how lucky he was to have her. She was good looking and intelligent. She was generous and pleasant.
She was nice.
He almost visibly cringed when he thought that. It sounded awful, to refer to somebody as 'nice'. As if you couldn't think of anything more positive to say about them. And he knew that wasn't true. She had many wonderful qualities, so why did he always say 'nice'?
"Be home for dinner, Harry."
He smiled again less guilt this time; she had a lovely voice, sweet and low. Not one of those grating northern accents that needed a day's worth of energy to decipher. He gave her a quick nod, kissed her hand and headed off to Gringotts.
After a tedious cart ride, he'd done this too often he supposed, there and a monotonous ride back, he thanked the mildly hostile goblin and then left Diagon Alley completely. He caught the underground and looked out the window, counting the number of lights that flashed by and then hopped off when it came to the stop he wanted. He'd been doing this for a little over five years, only a couple of months after he'd finished school. At first he'd felt overwhelming guilt because he was lying to Lisa, but things were much better now. He hoped.
He walked through the streets, lost in thought with menial things to keep his mind from the small amount of guilt that always seemed to linger, until he arrived at the building he wanted. The lobby looked perfectly normal, which was only to be expected as this was an establishment that catered to both magical and muggle.
Standing next to the reception desk, Harry shifted to hold his hands behind his back, knowing that Emily would turn up soon. And she did, wandering in while scribbling something on her check list. She looked up and gave him a quick smile, heading back to behind her desk. "Ah, Mister ..." She glanced at the top page in her clipboard. "Potter?"
Harry smiled pleasantly. He liked this game of how she pretended to not know who he was while he pretended not to notice that she always flicked to the back of her book and wrote something down. He had at first been curious, when he saw that no one else ever seemed to get that treatment. Then he had been panicked that they were collecting evidence to go to the papers with, something he really didn't need. But the one time he had managed to force the words out and ask her about it, she had just patted him on the arm, saying he had nothing to worry about. He chose to take her at her word and had not been disappointed yet. "Yes, that's right. I have an appointment for 7 o'clock."
"Yes, well, I'm very sorry sir, but there is a problem."
He resisted the urge to sigh dramatically thinking it was typical that he only got one day a month to do this and now something was causing trouble. But he told his mind to be quiet and that this was the first time anything had gone wrong. "What is it?"
"Michael is off sick today."
"I see." He wasn't happy with this, he liked Michael, they got on well.
"Well, there are two options. You could reschedule or you could go wait and I'll see if anyone else is available."
Harry quickly ran it through his head, trying to see the likelihood of getting another day to leave work early or talking Lisa into it. He didn't want to do that, she was being more than accommodating already. "Er, I think I'll go and wait." He handed a small pouch over.
"That's fine." Emily nodded, writing some more on her sheet and then turned to walk off. "I'll show you to your room."
He followed her through the door that led them to the wing of the building where the magical community were shown to and hopped on the first spiralling staircase.
"I am really sorry about this, sir. An owl was sent out to notify you but you must have already been on your way."
"That's all right. Some things can't be avoided."
"I appreciate your tolerance; his last client wasn't as understanding."
Harry shrugged, running his fingers along the banister. "People get sick, always have, always will. I've been coming to see him for three years and this is the first time he's never been here." He smiled at her. "Had to happen sometime."
He thanked her when she held open his door.
"I'll just go see to it right now, wouldn't want to forget." She smiled cheerfully and closed the door.
Harry sat down in the chair, the only piece of furniture that adorned the small room and warily eyed the metal tray that half stuck out of the wall to his right. The corners of those things were always sharp and even though he would have to lean and stretch to reach it from where he was, he still didn't like it being so close. Or maybe he didn't like it because it quietly and politely reminded him that he could have a little more, if he only allowed himself to do so. Shaking those thoughts away angrily, he looked to the plate of glass in front of him that stretched seven feet across. The only thing showing behind it was a black, wooden screen, not a very enticing view but he sat and waited, staring at the black
The black back disappeared abruptly after only a few minutes of waiting and Harry had to blink, trying to get his eyes to readjust. He removed his glasses to rub at the left one and got them to focus.
Silver eyes and a perfect smile, staring straight back at him. "Hello, Potter."
Harry's jaw didn't drop, but he couldn't exactly speak either. He absently readjusted his glasses.
"What's the matter?" Draco's smile widened. "Don't tell me I'm not your type?"
"Malfoy?" Harry screwed his face up when he heard that his voice ended up as a squeak when he finished the name.
"Such an excellent memory you have." Draco was sitting on what was considered his floor. The set up of the rooms were all the same. Small room with a chair that faced the glass. The glass started at about knee height for when you were sitting in the chair. That was where the 'floor' started for on the other side. Basically it was a raised stage and when the backing was removed you were left with a perfect view to who ever was sitting on the floor behind the glass.
That someone was currently Malfoy.
"So." Draco smiled. "How do you want it?"
Harry didn't allow himself to blush, mostly still too numb from surprise. But he did manage to get to his feet. "I'm leaving."
Draco stretched out on his floor. "Fair enough. Never thought you'd be the type to run from me, though."
Harry stopped, he hadn't even taken two steps away from his chair yet. "I'm not running away from you."
"Then what are you doing?"
Harry looked over to where Draco was now lying on his side, smiling pleasantly. "You are definitely not my type."
Draco shrugged casually. "Doesn't bother me, I get paid either way. You might spoil me for others, though. I can easily get used to getting money for doing nothing."
Again Harry didn't make it to the door. He turned back, observing the smug smile on Draco's face. Even though he could hardly believe it himself, he slowly walked back to his chair and sat down. "I never liked how you always got something for nothing."
"Says the man who lives mostly off his inheritance." Draco sent back without even hesitating.
"You don't know anything about me."
"Really? You have a mainly charitable job that you work from one in the afternoon until eight in the evening, the bleeding heart helping the helpless and all that rot. You get one evening off a month, the first day of every month including New Year's Day, so that you can come here. You've been a member since the day after your eighteenth birthday. You've never missed an appointment. You live with your girlfriend and I doubt that you've managed to keep what you do a secret from her for this long. But even though she knows, you probably feel guilty, which is why you always have your hands behind your back while you wait for Emily to show up. I know I wouldn't want people to see my fingers fidgeting, clearly giving my discomfit away." Draco paused, if only to take a breath. "How am I doing so far?"
Harry shifted, unsettled by all the things Draco had just said. "I don't recall paying 20 galleons to listen to you talk."
Draco sat up, inching closer towards the glass. "My mistake. What do you want me to do?"
"Earn your money for once?"
"Yes, but how? I'm not your regular, you'll have to tell me what you want."
Harry was seriously considering 'running away' very soon. He wasn't sure what would happen if he had to endure the blonde's company for much longer. And any which way it went down, it would be bad. "I want … I want …"
"Yes?"
Harry looked away and preferred to stare at his hands rather than meet the unnerving gaze that was fixed on him. "I want to know why you're working here."
"Not much choice really. After the war ended, not many people were exactly thrilled with the idea of hiring me." Draco moved closer to the glass again. "What do you want me to do?"
Harry took a deep breath and made sure his voice came out steady. "Take off your shirt."
Draco bowed his head in obedience and slowly undid every one of his buttons, pulling at the material to untuck it from his trousers. He slid it off his shoulders, leaving his torso covered by only a thin, cotton singlet.
"It's bad fashion to wear a singlet under your shirt, didn't you know that?"
Draco raised an eyebrow at Harry's comment before his lips curved into a smile. "Company policy. All employees must start off with at least three pieces of clothing."
Harry swallowed, his mouth suddenly feeling dry. "So you had to wear that because …"
"Because I'm wearing nothing under my trousers." Draco answered even though Harry hadn't quite managed to finish his question.
"Oh." Harry's mind had grabbed hold of that thought and ran with it. What little interest had been teased into existence with Draco removing his shirt so damn slowly was now flourishing nicely without any further help at all. He shifted in his chair, wondering why he'd never noticed how claustrophobic these rooms could seem. He took another calming breath, wishing that he hadn't started to sweat so much. "You won't be needing your wand. I don't go in for those sorts of things."
Obediently, Draco's wand was placed on top of his shirt, just off to the side.
"Your singlet."
Draco crossed his arms at his waist, still looking directly at his spectator and gradually closed his fingers so that they gripped the material.
Harry's patience was decreasing at an alarming rate but he told himself he wouldn't give in and command for the clothing to be removed. He wanted to wait until Draco fully complied with the mostly unspoken order.
Draco moved no further, his face betraying that he was well aware that one of them had to crack first.
He couldn't stand it anymore, he just couldn't. "Take it off."
The blonde's elbows had started to raise before the order had even been completed. Their eye contact was momentarily broken as the garment obscured Draco's face, but then the grey eyes were back, still looking straight at their target as the singlet was effortlessly tossed to the growing pile of clothes.
"Your trousers."
Draco titled his head, his blonde fringe falling out from behind his ear. "How?"
"All the way off."
Draco raised himself up on to his knees and studied Harry's face, watching as the green eyes only saw what his hands were doing. The top button undone, Draco allowed the zip to slowly lower and then pulled the two flaps of fabric as far apart as they could stretch. He smiled when he saw Harry's tongue slip out for a second to add some moisture to his lips. As if it was the most normal thing in the world, Draco pushed the material down past his hips until it pooled around his knees. He leant to the side, sitting gracefully and slowly removed first one leg from the garment, then the second. Tossing it to the pile, he lowered himself down to lie on his back, his knees bent up in the air but with his head to the side so he could look at Harry intently. "Still too slowly?"
Harry didn't answer, just looked at him. His heart was pounding so hard he felt as if he was getting dizzy. "Move your left leg to lie out straight." It was done. "I want you to touch yourself."
Draco smiled bringing his hands up to unhurriedly rub at his chest.
"Lower."
Draco dragged his hands down to smooth his fingers over his stomach. He could tell that Harry must have definitely been lying about him not being the right type. He had the perfect view of exactly how much Harry was not complaining.
"Lower. I want you to masturbate for me." Harry had no idea how he managed to say that without chocking on his own saliva or something just as embarrassing.
"What ever you wish." Draco murmured back, letting his eyes slip shut as he took hold of his own erection. He started at a fairly lazy pace, knowing that it probably wouldn't belong before his audience told him to hurry up. He was right.
"Faster." Harry was grateful that Draco's eyes were still closed as his own hand was now rubbing at his crotch. He'd always made Michael close his eyes at about this point, to self-conscious to do anything with another man watching. He pressed a little harder as he saw that Draco's breathing was speeding up. "Faster." He said, again. It was almost too much to endure.
Harry couldn't honestly say that Michael had never done anything for him. That was the point of this, after all, but it had never gone quite like this before. Then again, Michael hadn't been starring in Harry's fantasies since he was seventeen. There had been a number of people at school that Harry had indulged his thoughts in at some time or other, it was only natural at that age, but back then Draco had certainly been one of the more 'recurring' ones. Bastard or not he had been, still was, beautiful. And against all the politically correct arguments about the person inside, and not to judge people by how they looked, beauty was almost always a sure winner when it came to being a requirement for lust.
Harry could hear his own breathing; it sounded as if he'd just ran a marathon and while he knew that probably meant Draco could hear it, he couldn't quite bring himself to care at that moment. Besides, part of his brain that didn't seem to be wholly focussed on the sight in front of him reasoned that Draco might not be able to hear it over his own breathing. If Harry sounded like he'd ran a marathon, Draco must have run three. Although Harry couldn't think of a situation where a marathon runner would give a hitched sigh like the one he'd just heard. He sensed rather than actually saw that Draco's hand picked up speed of its own accord and decided the blonde hadn't earned his money just quite yet. "Stop." It was shaky, but that was compensated by him saying it louder than what he might have normally. It took a full three seconds for his words to sink in behind those grey eyes, he could tell when it had from the way they snapped open and glared at him.
But Draco obeyed and stopped what he was doing. Clearly biting a nasty comment back, the eyes softened and his face melted from angry to sulky. "That wasn't very nice." He stretched his legs, still lying lengthways and looked at Harry through his eyelashes, trying to gauge what was going on now.
Harry ignored the thought of what he was planning was a really bad idea and continued on. He was getting quite sick of his conscience away. "How much to vanish the glass?" He took a small amount of victory in the stunned on Draco's face before the blonde remembered himself. He wanted to make sure Draco was humiliated beyond belief. He needed Draco to do everything he said, obey him and concede. That was what he told himself anyway.
"Your membership doesn't cover that. You only have a green. You'd be needing at least a red to get what your asking for."
"I know." Harry sent one of his own confident smiles. "But I'm getting the idea you're not a fourth class."
Draco titled his head in a sign of agreement. "No, I'm not."
"So if you're a third class, it wouldn't be illegal for you to do it."
"Even so, a third class Pleasurant who knowingly exceeds his client's membership? That's grounds for termination in this company."
"You're worried about getting fired? Oh come on, Malfoy. It's only us." He frowned, leaning forward in his chair. "Not going to back down now, are you?"
Draco lifted himself up so that he was still leaning back on his hands. He looked at Harry for a long time before he smiled. "Very well."
"How much?"
Draco moved to his left to lean his shoulder on the glass. "For you, Harry? It's free."
"Nothing's free. Especially not from you."
"Well, maybe not, but how about we could just say that you'd owe me a little favour."
Harry smiled, shaking his head. "I'm not an idiot. I don't do 'favours' for you. Money only, paid up front as I'd like to avoid any nasty little repercussions. How much?"
Draco didn't look very thrilled with the 'no favour' situation but he didn't dwell on it for long. "How much have you got?"
Harry reached into the top inner pocket of his robe and pulled out a large pouch then dropped it on the arm of his chair, causing the coins inside to clink and scrape together. "And I have an eighty galleon credit at the bar that I can transfer."
Draco feigned surprise for some reason. "You have a bar tab? You've never had a drink here."
"It's just a back up precaution."
Draco looked at him again, noticing the sweat running down from his forehead. He calculated how much would be in the pouch and chose the highest number he knew Harry could afford, but wouldn't want to pay. "One hundred."
"Done."
Draco hid his surprise well as he watched Harry take out a few coins and then place the small bag in the metal tray stuck through the wall.
"Will a note authorising you to access my bar tab, be enough?"
"Fine." Draco leant his forehead on the glass, watching Harry carefully for any sign that this was a wind up. He didn't like to be toyed with but he stopped his scrutiny and shifted back a little when his breath started to make strange shapes on the glass.
Harry scribbled something down on the top page of a notebook he had taken out of one of his lower pockets and the tore the paper out, placing it in the tray and shutting it quickly, before he could change his mind. He watched, his heart still racing, as Draco leisurely reached for something out of his view, just to the side of the glass. With a soft sucking noise of air rushing to where it couldn't be before, the glass was gone and Harry swallowed as Draco got to his knees and crawled over to kneel directly in front of him. As the edge of the platform the blonde was on came up to Harry's knees from where he was sitting, Harry was experiencing the fascinating sensation of Draco towering over him, looking down. He might not have ever gone this far before but he knew the rules and moved his hands to rest on the arms of his chair, gripping them with his fingers.
"What do you want me to do?" Draco's smile wasn't arrogant, simply good-humoured.
"Touch me."
"Yes, that part was apparent. But where?" Draco made sure to draw the last word out, leaning down as he did so.
Harry shifted again, unable to find a comfortable way to sit what with his erection pressing painfully into his zipper. "Anywhere."
Slowly Draco lifted his right hand up, to rest on the left side of Harry's face. Dragging his thumb, across he wiped away the stray beads of sweat, bringing his hand to his mouth and licking the moisture off. His other hand came up, running his fingers down the front of Harry's throat and over his Adam's apple, lingering at the bottom until his hand rotated, allowing him to slide it down under the collar of the shirt. "How am I doing?"
"Too slow." It was what Harry had been thinking and even though he hadn't wanted to say it, the smile he received somehow gave him the impression it had been the right thing to do.
The fingers that lay on his chest under the top of his shirt, slowly drifted back and forth as far as they could given the awkward angle Draco had to hold his wrist at. Harry started slightly when he felt the other hand come to rest on his thigh, fingers clenching a little and massaging the muscles underneath his clothes. Obviously Draco's wrist got to uncomfortable because the hand slid back up, feather light touches on his jaw and throat which made the skin feel itchy. Harry had to remind himself that he couldn't raise his hand to rub at it and make the feeling stop. Your hands weren't allowed to leave the arms of the chair when you were doing this.
Harry couldn't endure the unwavering gaze that was still directed at him, not when it was so close, so he shifted his eyes from Draco and stared over the other man's shoulder at the wall. But he could still feel it on him, even when he realised that the hand on his thigh had glided up to press against his erection, the eyes didn't leave his face. He let out a shaky breath as he felt the button of his slacks being undone and refused to give into the little voice in his head that was begging him to stop all this now.
Mercifully Draco didn't undo the zip at the slowest possible speed, instead opting for smoothly unfastening it then coaxing Harry to stand for a moment. Harry thought he should have felt slightly embarrassed by having someone, especially this someone, undoing his clothes and moving them around, but he reasoned that maybe it wasn't so bad considering Draco's eyes hadn't moved off his face, not even to work the button or the zip.
When he sat back down Harry carefully avoided Draco's attempt at eye contact, still preferring to stare at the wall. His lips partly slightly when he first felt the warm hand sliding around his leaking erection but no sound came out. He shuddered at first sliding stroke downwards and pressed his lips together firmly as Draco's hand made the journey back up. Again a stroke down and Harry felt the sensitive skin stretch to its limit before Draco pulled back up. "Faster." He only managed a whisper.
Draco complied and Harry really had to force his lips closed so that no embarrassing noises could make their way out of his throat. Still the eyes didn't leave his face and it was really intimidating him now. "Do you have to stare at my face." He muttered softly. He then had to close his eyes because, out of the corner of his left he saw Draco smile and move his grey eyes down to where his hand was. If Harry thought it was uncomfortable having Draco stare at his face, this was even more so. "Close your eyes, Draco."
When Harry opened his own to see if he had been obeyed he was treated to the sight of Draco, head partially lowered, eyes closed. An almost serene look on his face. Green eyes now felt free to stare, without the challenging look being returned. A tiny gasp forced its way from between Harry's lips when Draco's grip tightened faintly. His fingers dug into the chair arms hard enough for his knuckles to go white. But there was something missing and he knew it. It felt colder than what he'd always pictured. He titled his head to his right, away from the blonde hair, and coughed out his next request. "Kiss my throat." He knew Draco didn't have to follow this one, that he would be within his right to say no or ask for a higher fare, but the blonde simply opened his eyes to get his bearings and leaned forward, attaching his lips to Harry's throat. Harry let his head fall back a little further, not even noticing that his own right hand had moved from the chair until he felt the warm smooth skin of Draco's shoulder under it.
Draco stilled for a moment and Harry was overwhelmed by how much he was disturbed by the thought of this being stopped. He cursed himself in his mind, wondering what exactly he had been thinking. He knew he wasn't allowed to touch and it looked like Draco was going to pull away at any second. He was stunned when all that happened was that Draco's hand started up again and the soft lips on his throat sealed around a small section of his skin and sucked. Harry's fingers tightened on Draco's shoulder and the absurd thought of 'That's gonna leave a mark' floated through briefly before his brain turned all its attention to making him moan.
Draco released his throat just long enough to move up to another tender part, just below his jaw and proceed on leaving a mark there as well.
Harry made a sound that was halfway between a moan and a sigh, his hand sliding down Draco's side until it reached his hip. Confused by Draco's apparent lack of concern to the amount of rules they were breaking today, Harry figured he'd better not look a gift horse in the mouth. At least, he thought that was how the saying went. It was hard to focus on considering that Draco's other hand had undone two of his shirt buttons and was currently rubbing his right nipple with slow strokes of his thumb.
It was when Harry's tentative, enquiring hand brushed over Draco's neglected erection that the blonde pulled away as if he'd been burned. Harry muttered a nasty expletive under his breath as he felt it all go away. The hand from his groin, the lips on his throat, the other hand from out of his shirt. He supposed he'd finally found Draco's breaking point and was pretty disappointed. Only to be practically knocked back into his chair when Draco came back.
All the blonde had done was simply shifted himself, swung his legs around so that he could sit instead of kneeling. He pressed his feet to the sides of Harry's shin and moved forward. His right hand moved back to where it had been, wrapping around the soft skin and slipping slightly from his sweaty palm. Draco's mouth refastened on to Harry's throat as his other hand came up to rest on the side he couldn't reach, rubbing his fingers along the jugular.
Harry took a moment to recover from his surprise before he worked his hand between them again and found what he was looking for. He felt sticky fluid under his skin and flexed his fingers, spreading it more and smiled when Draco shifted closer. Though he'd never actually done this to someone else again, he figured if he just tried to match what Draco was doing he couldn't really go wrong. "Faster." He whispered, knowing it sounded more like a pleading than a command.
Draco was kissing up his throat, then along his jaw, but it wasn't enough so Harry moved his head back, turned it slightly then brought it back in and pressing his lips to Draco's. He wasn't too sure which of the two tongues made the first move but they were both rubbing against each other by the time his hand had come up to rest on the back of Draco's head, threading through his hair and making sure that the other man couldn't pull away in case he suddenly tried to.
The thoughts of how what he was doing was wrong, crazy, stupid, finally drifted out of Harry's mind as Draco kissed him back. It all seemed so normal now. But he had to break the kiss to take a big enough breath for when his orgasm started. At any other time he probably would have been embarrassed that he finished first, given that Draco had been given a head start only a little while ago, but right then all he could think was 'Finally'. He caught his breath and then moved back in to kiss him again. It didn't seem right to be touching him like that without kissing him, made it feel hollow. Especially as Draco's other hand was still rubbing its fingers along the side of his throat.
His own fingers ached and his wrist was starting to cramp, but Draco was whispering such nice things into his mouth that Harry didn't dare to stop. He knew it was almost over when Draco's feet tensed, compressing his shins together. He dimly heard Draco's sharp breath, felt something warm and wet dripping on to his still clothed thigh, but his hand kept moving until Draco grabbed his wrist and forced him to let go, whining with what was probably discomfit at the overload of sensation.
Draco was also the one to break the kiss and they sat there, both still breathing heavily, only having the energy to just look at each other. For a moment Harry was sure he'd seen something resembling panic in the eyes that stared back at him, but then it was gone. Embarrassed slightly, he removed his hand from the blonde hair and let the other man move away a little.
"I never thought you would vanish the glass." Draco slid back, picking up his shirt and draping it across his lap, attempting to cover himself up. The movement was almost humorous considering what they had just been doing to each other, but neither of them smiled.
Harry's breathing had returned to normal, but all he could do was watch as the other man moved a little further back. His first non-Draco related thought was that he was a dead man.
Draco hastily ran a hand through his hair, trying to fix what Harry had done to it and smooth it back down somewhat. "I think your time is up." He muttered, suddenly not looking at him anymore. He knew that he'd lost control of the situation somewhere and it unsettled him. The only way he could think of to win the control back was to leave, very quickly.
Harry nodded and sat there as Draco unvanished the glass and then raised the backing. He stared at the black before normal feeling returned to his fingers, his mind was already regaining command and trying to work out exactly where it stood. He drew himself to his feet and hurriedly fixed up his clothing. The only things he could focus on was how that was just as good as he'd ever imagined and how the hell was he going to even look at Lisa. On shaky legs he headed out and made it to the public restroom, washing his hands and trying to make the slight discolouration on his right trouser thigh fade a little and not give himself away the second he got to the lobby where there were going to be people. People who could look at him and just know. It stared hopelessly at the three marks on his throat. Nobody could mistake them for being anything other than what they were. He took his wand out and attempted to at least conceal them, seeing as how he didn't know the first thing about how to remove them completely. He gave a brisk nod to Emily in the lobby and made it to the outside street, relieved that so far he'd managed to get away with it.
He didn't notice much of his journey home, just bits and pieces like stopping to cross a road here, smiling at someone who said hello there. Before he was ready, though he couldn't imagine he ever would be, he was standing outside his front door. Opening it was an automatic muscle memory, as was walking in and heading for the living room.
"Hi honey. You're just in time, dinner's ready. I thought we'd have some Italian so I tried out this new pasta dish." Lisa smiled, wiping her hands on the apron that was tired around her waist.
He smiled, almost feeling disgusted with himself for doing it. "Hey there, that sounds great." He gave her a kiss.
**********
Harry was telling himself to go home. He was telling himself repeatedly. A seemingly endless stream of 'Go home's were rumbling around in his mind. His feet paid no attention and firmly kept him standing next to Emily's desk.
She emerged from the back, dealing with a rather irritated female client who was saying something about hygiene. Eventually they sorted something out and the client left, Emily automatically turned to her desk. And nearly dropped her clipboard when she saw Harry standing there.
To her credit, she covered her surprise well but Harry didn't miss how she looked to the calendar, clearly checking that she hadn't missed a few weeks. When she looked back to him, she smiled friendly and walked over to him.
"Can I help you, sir?"
Every other time Harry had thought their 'Who are you?' game was cute but he wasn't in the mood for it today. Two weeks of not quite looking Lisa in the eye, of calling himself some unpleasant names under his breath, of impatiently waiting for the next month to arrive and hating himself for it in the process. Two weeks, he didn't even last the month. He decided 'hating' didn't sound harsh enough and moved on to 'loathing'. But he held his head high, knowing that at least he was here to set things straight, not make them worse, which he might have done if he'd caved in a few days ago. "I was here two weeks ago, the day Michael was off sick and you said you'd send me a replacement." He crossed his arms. "Well, I would like to make a complaint."
She caught his impatient tone and nodded. "If you'll just wait here, sir. I'll go check with the records."
He watched her leave and contemplated heading to the in house bar before deciding that alcohol would not be the best idea if he was going to be seeing the evil incarnate again. He'd truly convinced himself that this was all Malfoy's fault. He ignored how he had been the one to initiate everything. He had agreed to stay when the opportunity to leave had been there. But he'd only done that because it would look like he was running away. He'd paid for the glass to be vanished. He held tightly to his lame excuse of wanting to humiliate the blonde further. He told him to touch him. He had touched him of his own free will. He had kissed him back.
Harry uncrossed his arms so he could shove his hands in his pockets, now repeating to himself that he wasn't to blame, that Malfoy had done something to him to force him to do those things. That he wasn't like that, he just wasn't.
He held those thoughts close as Emily returned.
"Well, I've checked the books and I'm very sorry, Mr Potter. I don't know how that happened and I hope you didn't wait long. You should have said something at the time, I would have fixed it all up instantly."
"What do you mean?"
"I was sure I passed on the message for someone to attend to you. I don't know what went wrong, but I hope you realise we don't make it a policy to keep our clients waiting when no one has been sent for." She hurriedly scribbled a few more things at the back of her clipboard. "Someone definitely should have turned up, I apologise again for our lack of organisation."
Harry frowned, more out of confusion than any dwindling anger. "Look, I don't know what you're talking about. I want to see Malfoy." Though the thoughts running through his head were of a more violent nature. Which somehow managed to turn into a not so violent nature. Harry stopped his train of thought right there.
"Diem?"
"D … M? He goes by his initials?"
"No. Diem … as in Carpe." Emily smiled mischievously. "We used to call him Sunshine, until he found out and threatened to make sure we landed in Unemployment. So we switched to Diem."
Harry sighed, growing tired of all of this. "Well that's cute, it really is, but I want to see him."
"Mr Potter, I can assure you I am capable of fixing this. There's no need to bring him in."
"But it's all his fault!"
"Sir, if any fault was made, it was by me. Diem has little to do with the daily running of clients. He has other things to see to."
He was convinced he was starting to sound slightly hysterical from impatience and guilt. "Look I don't care who or what he's seeing to, I want to strangle the little bastard. Why would he be seeing to anything anyway?"
"Well, he is the manager as well as simply being the owner. Though few people really take enough interest to know that."
Harry was certain he'd heard her wrong. "I beg your pardon?"
"The manager. He … manages. Employees, payrolls, those sort of things." Her smile had faded. "He doesn't deal with clients very often. That's what he hired me for."
Harry was getting the nasty feeling that he had to sit down, before anything embarrassing happened to his knees. "He … owns here?"
Emily smiled nervously, suddenly looking uncertain with the situation. "Well, yes. I thought you knew that? I just assumed because … well you went to school with him. Didn't you?"
All he could do was nod.
Her smiled failed her again. "If you didn't know he was the owner, why did you want to see him?"
Harry could feel his face burning. His thoughts were racing at this point, trying to work it all out, but failing. "He … he was behind the glass." It was the nicest way he could bring himself to say it.
She frowned for a moment before her eyes widened. "Are you saying …" She stopped herself and looked around, though the lobby was relatively empty. When she spoke again her voice was softer, clearly trying to keep the conversation private. "I think perhaps this should be dealt strictly between the two of you." She removed a card from her clipboard and handed it over. "He only comes in about twice a month. Most days he spends at home, this is where you can find him."
Harry took the card wordlessly and turned to leave. He could feel her eyes on him the whole time before the door swung shut behind him. Only once he was safely outside did he read the address that was written on the note. He walked a few blocks down and caught the underground again.
He sat there, staring at his hands, as his mind tried to piece together everything it had to go on. It didn't leave him with much. For reasons unknown, Draco Malfoy, snob, pain in the neck and all round not-nice guy, had posed as a stripper ... in his own strip-club. And, also for reasons unknown, Harry Potter, nice guy, adulterating idiot and clearly an all round airhead, hadn't exactly needed a wand held to his head to let it all happen.
He thought about blaming it on his hormones and decided that sounded too pathetic. He looked at the option of being under the influence of a subtle yet potent curse and had to disregard it as highly unlikely. He tried to think of any reason other than he'd been given one tiny chance at attaining some bastard he used to have a crush on.
He failed.
And that was the thought he was left with as he blindly made his way out of the underground and headed in the direction he hoped the apartment building was. He, after all these years, had been given the chance of getting Malfoy, just once, and he'd jumped at it with barely a hesitation. Just when he thought he couldn't possibly hate himself any more than what he had in the last couple of weeks, Harry found his inner reserves and sunk to never before seen lows.
He nearly walked past the address, he was so wrapped up in wondering what the hell he was going to do. He smiled, somewhat dazed, at the doorman who didn't even question who he was and just let him in. He nodded a hello to some woman in the elevator who had recognised him. He politely moved out of the way of some German tourists that were talking animatedly to their English host and waving their wands, trying to convey whatever it was they were saying with sparkles and light beams.
He'd had to move, as there were seven of them, and he was standing in the absolute centre of the corridor, staring at the number on the door. The number that coincided with the number on the card. He glared at the door. Nothing happened. He growled at the door. Nothing continued to happen. He told himself he was acting if he was five and that if he was going to knock, or blow the door up, now would be the time to do which ever it was that he chose.
His good nature voted for 'knock'. His guilt and high embarrassment level voted for the 'blowing up of stuff' option. His rising anger joined in with his guilt. His common sense hastily teamed up with his good nature and they were then joined by his paranoia of seeing his snarling, crazed face on tomorrow's Daily Prophet with the headline 'Saviour Slaughters Snob in Strip-club Scandal'. The winner was clear.
He got out his wand to blow the door up.
Fortunately, or unfortunately, depending on who's point of view you were looking from, the door opened of its own accord before Harry could say anything. Well, not entirely of its own accord. Someone from the other side had opened it. And that someone was now looking at Harry calmly, fully noticing the raised wand.
"Most people knock, Potter."
Just looking at the blonde was enough for Harry to nearly scream with rage, the soothing voice only adding to it. "I took a quick vote." He practically had to spit the words out. "Knocking lost."
"Well, then it's rather fortunate that I was just heading to the lobby. Do you have any idea how much good-quality oak doors cost these days?"
"I'm sure you can afford it."
Draco looked behind him as laughter drifted out the door towards them. He moved forward into the corridor, partially closing the door behind him, leaving only a small gap. "Just because you have money is no reason to spend it."
"Why am I not surprised that you're cheap?"
Draco smiled arrogantly. "Ah, but I'm not. Or had you forgotten?"
Harry crushed the urge to break the man's nose. "That's exactly what I came to talk to you about. What the hell do you think you are doing?"
Draco sighed softly. "I figured you'd find out." He leant casually on the doorframe. "I just knew … the second I decided to go through with it, that if you didn't already know that I owned the place, you soon would." He looked at Harry, a nicer smile playing on his lips. "Knew you'd ask about me."
"Only so I could break your face."
"Sorry, not really into that sort of thing."
"I don't recall saying you'd have the choice to get out of it."
"Look, Harry." Draco shifted his weight to his other foot, but didn't seem to want to be the first to look away. "I know you're a little angry that I may have deceived you. But you can't be entirely surprised that I didn't tell you the whole truth?"
"You lied."
"Well, no, not really. I do work there, after all. Just not by doing what I may have led you to believe."
Harry didn't care how charmingly the other man smiled. All he could think right now was what he'd done to Lisa, and she didn't even know about it yet. He scowled at the door as more laughter trickled out from behind it. "Invite in a pack of hyenas, did you?"
"Just a few friends, over for dinner. We're celebrating."
"My humiliating demise?"
"Honestly, Harry, not everything in this world is about you. It's my birthday."
Harry was finding it hard to remain fuming with the other man being so calm. He sneered anyway. "Sorry I couldn't get you a present."
Draco's smile widened. "Oh, but you did. And thank you."
Harry couldn't stop himself this time, it was the smile that had done it. His hand darted out and before either of them knew what it was doing, his fingers were wrapped around the other's throat. "What the hell do I tell my girlfriend?" He snarled.
Draco's smile was fading slowly. "That's really none of my concern, or even my problem. I didn't force you to do anything. If I recall correctly, you were the one doing all the 'taking charge' stuff."
"You must have had something to do with it. I'm not the kind of person to threaten a five year relationship just because some super conceited snob has an over inflated opinion of his own pathetic charms."
Draco scowled, his throat flexing under Harry's fingers as he swallowed. "Well perhaps you are. Let's look at the evidence that supports that shall we?" His hand came up to rest on Harry's wrist. "And I've never heard anyone else say that I have no appeal."
"Maybe you simply weren't listening hard enough? I can think of at least fifty people from school."
Draco snorted softly. "A statement like that made out of jealousy or badly concealed desire loses some its significance, wouldn't you say?"
"Look, let's forget about all the 'who's fault' and 'what now' bullshit. I only want to know one thing."
"Then make it quick will you, you're beginning to bore me."
"Why?" Harry loosened his grip slightly, which meant Draco allowed his own hand to fall back down again. Harry paid no notice. "Why did you do it?"
Draco was looking less and less calm by the minute and this question didn't appear to help it. "I did it because I was bored." He looked him in the eye and then gave a small frown as if he was confused. "What did you do it for?"
Harry scowled, releasing the other man's throat and turned to leave as Draco's face started to betray the rising smirk of victory. "Grow up, Malfoy."
"I have. Surely you noticed that during our mini class reunion." Was the mocking retort. "Perhaps more people should be invited to the next one?"
Harry refused to reply, took out his wand as he walked away and Disapparated in mid-step.
The smirk faded from Draco's face to leave behind a thoughtful look. With the reason he had been heading to the lobby completely forgotten, he gave one last glance to where Harry had stood and went back inside, closing the door softly.
(Last bit, was a bit too long for LJ)