[Fanfic:] Harry’s plans working out in not working out
Title: Harry’s plans working out in not working out
Author/Artist: smirkingcat
Prompt:# 60: Prompt: Teddy seeks comfort from Harry in the middle of the night during a thunderstorm and finds cousin Draco in the bed with Harry.
Suggested Character(s)/Pairings: Harry/Draco
Prompt submitted by: susan5124
Pairing(s): Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy
Word Count/Art Medium: ~7k
Rating: NC-17
Warning(s): not sure fluff gone wrong- maybe?
Disclaimer:Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Notes: in this story I really, really feel like and for harry, he and I certainly experience the same things with our plans and how they don't work out but work out or something.
THANK YOU so much dear darkravenwrote. for the awesome, last min beta, it really helped me a lot!!!
and thanks to the mod team who also helped me a great deal with this fic
- all remaining style, grammar, spag issues are mine, and mine alone
have fun reading!
Summary: Harry has it all planned out, he tries to take a not Gryffindor approach after all. So why does he still end up doing things the Gryffindor way?
Harry’s plans working out in not working out
Every time the door opens Harry‘s eyes shift to it, staring at the person who enters. For a few seconds even the nervous tapping of his foot stops as he pulls himself together in expectation, before he realises that this man also isn‘t Draco.
It‘s the usual club; Harry is sitting at their usual table, but everything else is very different. It‘s a Wednesday night for one and Harry hasn‘t been out on a week night for nearly four years. His heart speeds up a notch every time he allows himself to think about it, letting his eyes drift over the other patrons, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. This might turn out to be a big mistake.
He drags his fingers through his hair to calm himself, only to curse because he is destroying the hours of hard work he put into his hair tonight. He had, after all, used five different potions on his hair. His mirror had been impressed, not only by the result- because apparently the potions had some effect- but also by his dedication.
He‘s also wearing the expensive, high quality, dark green button down Ginny had gotten him for his birthday three or four years ago. It had come with the words: 'To draw attention to your eyes, because they deserve it.' Harry had looked slightly puzzled at Ginny, not knowing what to make of this comment. It had been Dean who had said to Harry with the self-assurance only a fashion designer can have when it comes to talk about fashion, "It will make you look fabulous, trust me," all the while with his arm slung around Ginny's waist to pull her in closer. And Harry trusts Dean in this regard, not only because of the words, but when he looked down at the shirt, he saw that it was from 'Lavender & Style‘, the brand Dean had created together with Lavender. When it comes to style many wizards turn to them these days and through the years he has gotten quite a pile of fabulous clothing made by ‚Lavender & Style‘. At least Ron and George haven‘t ever gotten him anything to wear. Must be because both of them understand all too clearly how hard it is to get excited about clothing for one's birthday.
However tonight Harry has put his friends gifts to good use; the dark green button down was accompanied by very smooth black leather pants that fit Harry loosely if he stands, but are tight if he is sitting. It‘s the first time he has worn them, but today they will make the impression they were designed for. Because he has noticed it through the years he has been meeting with... dating?... shagging... ? something Draco..., that the blond has a thing for leather pants, and that they always manage to catch his eyes. And today Harry wants Draco's eyes all to himself.
That‘s why the fine dragon hide shoes and a silver bracelet finish his outfit.
According to Teddy he looks very shiny. Listening to his mirror, he looks dashing and bloody fantastic. And if he goes by the looks he receives from some of the men and women around him, he is certainly making an impression. Now it has to work on Draco too.
Harry takes another sip of his drink, wondering if the female barkeeper from their usual Friday nights was leading him on, and Draco doesn‘t come here on weekdays. He doesn't really believe that the nice girl was making a joke out of him, but at the same time he wouldn‘t totally put it past her. She already joked often enough about his pining eyes and his lovey-dovey looks, when he gets the drinks for them. Most of the time he takes it with good humour, hoping that Draco experiences the same remarks, but the Slytherin never came back with a visible blush. Unlike Harry, who then has to listen to Draco joking about Harry and his unresolved feelings towards women.
Harry has no unresolved feelings towards women. His feelings towards women are perfectly resolved and fine. Thank you. He has unresolved feelings towards a Malfoy. For all the remarks about Slytherins missing nothing important, Malfoy never took note about Harry falling for him a little more with each meeting - date? Harry sighs deeply. This really isn‘t helping him now.
The door is purposefully pushed open again. Harry glances at it without any real hope, only to see Draco stepping in. Without any warning Harry‘s heart starts to pound hard in his chest, while his palms are getting sweaty and his throat seems to have turned into a desert.
Harry is aware that Draco is a very good looking man - he has seen him naked after all - but Draco‘s beauty is not of the perfect kind like that of the old antique marble statues. Draco‘s beauty is in his sharp lines, which he moves in fluent gestures. It's the aristocratic face, with a very fine nose and the blazing eyes which can never hide what the man really is thinking about. It's the Dark Mark on his left forearm, which is as much of a turn on to Harry as any openly inviting gesture from the man, and the scars on his chest and the birthmarks on his back, forming no real pattern, but are still intriguing.
In the summer soft freckles appear, not anything like the multitudes of red dots the Weasleys are sporting, but more like a dusting, which coats his sharp cheeks. But this is all nothing to the impression Draco makes when fully clothed, emitting a sense of self-satisfaction, pride, and something that feels like a mixture of joy and mischief . The certainly hand-tailored three-piece suit is more than flattering on the lean body and Harry‘s breath catches in his throat as those silver-grey eyes meet his, showing confusion, before lightening up with what Harry hopes is excitement.
As Draco walks over with a purposeful stride, Harry is working hard to unstick his tongue so that he will be able to at least say something useful. Damn Draco with that beauty that makes it hard for Harry to breath.
"Potter, what a pleasant surprise to see you here on a weeknight" Draco says, before his elegant right eyebrow is lifted, and Harry can see Draco noticing his outfit. "Aren‘t we looking dashing tonight," he hears, and then there it is; the flexible tongue moving across the red upper lip, as grey eyes notice Harry‘s leather clad legs.
This was the reason for the trousers.
"Someone here has big plans. I might have to ask if I‘m intruding," Draco goes on, eyes moving ever so slowly back to Harry‘s. And really Harry should say something and not just admire the man.
"No, not intruding" he mumbles, his lips barely moving, while his blush is working over his face. "I've been waiting for you," he goes on, before he can stop himself.
"Really? Maybe I should‘ve come into agreement with Mr Duval sooner," Draco replies and sits down, after removing his waistcoat.
"Mr Duval?" Harry asks, puzzled, watching Draco‘s fingers work their way through what he knows from experience is very soft and silky hair.
"No one of great importance, if you aren‘t in the French wine business, which you aren‘t" Draco says, rolling up his sleeves so that half of his underarms are showing. As usual Harry‘s eyes are drawn to the black lines, which have diminished over the years, but are still clearly visible.
"No I‘m not, thank you for the reminder" Harry rebuffs and nudges Draco‘s knee with his.
"Be glad you aren't, really. It‘s more of a hassle than even I like to admit most of the time" Draco says in what Harry has dubbed the apologetic tone. It isn‘t really, it's not even close to an apology, but after the nearly three years of the casual thing they have going on, Harry has learned that Draco simply sees no need to apologize. It‘s just whatever Draco says he really means in that moment. His temper has always been one Draco‘s flaws. But this endears him to Harry even more, because Harry himself is lacking in the department of self-restrain. Moreover this lack of propriety that has survived through the strict upbringing Harry can only imagine the Malfoy household provided, and through the toughing up in a school dormitory that's all about getting one over on others until the reign of a war. For Harry this speaks of immense strength of character.
"So you meet with this Mr Duval to talk about wine?" Harry asks still interested in why Draco is in such a good mood.
"Well, yes, in a way. Mr Duval is a very difficult man and has a lot of influence in the world of wine. As you might be aware wine from any Malfoy vineyard isn't really selling well in wizarding Britain, but our wine is extremely sought after by French and Spanish Muggles. Something Mr Duval has tried to hide from me, thinking that I only ever go to France to have a nice holiday" Draco‘s lips move in a very displeased way, before the gleam enters back into his eyes, and the lips start to form a grin, that Harry finds incredible sexy.
"Well, long story short, today I convinced the man to pay up what he owed" Draco finished reaching for Harry‘s glass, and raising his glass before he takes a slip from it.
"Sounds like a well earned victory to me" Harry agrees making a toasting notion with his empty hand.
"So that was my story about why I came here today," Draco states and puts down the glass, looking at Harry very intensely. Harry wants to inject that he has heard that Malfoy usually is here on a Wednesday, but before he can even start the sentence, Draco already has gone on.
"Now tell me Potter, what are you doing here, all styled up, waiting - by your own words - for me?" Draco asks, eyebrow raised but a tone of approval in his voice.
"I didn‘t want to wait for Friday?" Harry states boldly, grinning as he notices the slight widening of Draco's eyes. He takes another deep breath. It was now or never. In his mind it is so easy to go on. It would change their relationship, would make it into something more- hopefully, maybe even into something akin to a relationship. Another deep breath.
In for a sickle in for a knut.
"And I thought if I dressed better, you may lose the fear of my wardrobe and come home with me," he states, trying to sound seductive but also a little bit blasé. He isn‘t sure he really manages either through the nervousness.
Three years and they never have been anywhere else but at cheesy Muggle hotels, back allies, and toilets. Harry has enough of that. He wants to be in love and he wants to have all the nice stuff that comes with it.
"I never said I was afraid of your wardrobe, even if some of the pieces in it really are questionable" Draco says, head turned away so that Harry can‘t see the honest eyes.
"I‘m just not convinced that it will do us both any good to get this privately involved for a casual shag" he goes on, and Harry has to take a deep breath.
Casual shag? Draco can‘t be serious. Harry hasn‘t been seeing anybody else but Draco since they started this thing. And he knows that Draco hasn‘t been with anybody else but him for this past year, so why would he go and make that remark?
"I don‘t think that we are casual anymore" Harry whispers, reaching for Draco‘s fingers.
"Potter, I told you at the beginning: I don‘t do relationships" Draco withdraws his hand and finally turns his head looking angry. "Remember that was the reason we started this whole casual thing: I don‘t do relationships and you can‘t do relationships, because of the small child you have to take care of. Really what are you thinking?" Draco shakes his head ever so slightly and gets up. "Owl me when you've got your head back together."
Maybe it is something in Draco's voice, something about the way he moves, or just because Harry wishes for it, that he sees a glimmer of some strange emotion that Harry isn‘t quite sure he could name, in Draco's eyes. He gets up fast and grabs Draco by the wrist, stops the man from leaving.
"Don‘t-" Harry starts but has no words. "Please, don‘t just go" he whispers, feeling very helpless.
"Potter... Harry, I..." Draco sighs, and Harry looks at him, trying to understand.
"Come home with me tonight," Harry asks again, slowly moving his fingers so that they entwine with Draco‘s. "You should‘ve known from the start, that I can only do casual for so long," Harry mumbles, cautious humour in his voice.
"Bloody Gryffindor" Draco replies softly.
"Don‘t you forget it" Harry smiles and steps even closer, their noses touching.
"What about that kid of yours?" Draco inquires in a sharp tone, which is trying to hide the insecurities that Harry can easily read in the unsure movements of long elegant fingers.
"Teddy is at a sleep over with his uncle Bill, aunt Fleur‘s and their daughter Victoire, who he adores," Harry explains.
"Just..." Draco takes a deep breath, "Potter, don‘t expect too much of me. I wasn‘t lying back then, I suck at this," he whispers and Harry felt the words more against his lips, than he was really able to hear them.
"Draco" Harry puts his hand at Draco‘s lower back and drags him close, their bodies touching, not even air between them. "I expect nothing" Harry says hastily, and Draco just arches an eyebrow. "Yeah, well nothing that you won‘t be able to give me at least. I want to spend time with you, I don‘t want to suppress the urge to write you, when I have good news, or when I want to see you. I don‘t want us to only be about the sex anymore, because you are so much more to me" Harry confesses and in the end it‘s much easier than he had feared it would be.
"Your friends would be horrified, if they could hear you" Draco replies, face turned away again, his cheeks clearly red in the shady.
"They already know. Gryffindor, remember? I speak about you nearly every day," Harry says, and is amazed to watch as Draco‘s ears turn pink right in front of him.
"Let‘s go, before I change my mind" the Slytherin says and stalks out of the club. Harry follows him with a soft smile on his face.
It hasn‘t happened exactly as Harry had planned it in his head, but the outcome might be even better, than the one he had been going for.
"So dear Saviour, where do you life?" Draco asks as Harry catches up to him outside on the way to the small park, from which they could apparate away unseen.
"I live in a small house near Little Sodbury, Gloucestershire," Harry says and holds out his hand for Draco to take it.
"Gloucestershire?" Draco muses before he rolls his eyes. "Of course you would end up there."
Harry looks at Draco in confusion, not really understanding the joke that Draco seems to be making, especially since Harry knows he has no connection to Gloucestershire.
"Did the Potters live there in the past?" Harry asks, while watching as Draco at long last takes his hand ever so carefully.
"Not that I‘m aware of, but their official motto is: 'Prorsum semper'. As a Gryffindor this must be very appealing to you," Draco smirks back at Harry.
Harry is still slightly puzzled especially as Latin isn‘t really his forte. However he opts to ask Draco later, because now that Draco has finally taken his hand, he can take the other man home with him.
As they land on his doorstep Draco looks around, waiting until Harry opens the door. Even as he steps into the small house he says nothing and keeps looking around.
Harry isn't sure how to take this sudden silence. Does Draco dislike his home so much? Was it displeasing to Draco? Maybe Draco expected something more high-class? Damn, maybe he really hadn't thought this through?
"So you and that child" Draco starts.
"Don't call him 'that child'. His name is Teddy, and he is after all your cousin," Harry growls. 'That child' sounds very clinical, especially when it was Draco saying it.
"Once removed" Draco says and steps further into the room, to the pictures hanging on the wall next to the stairs.
"What?" Harry asks, feeling like a complete moron for all the things Draco says and he isn't understanding tonight.
"He is my first cousin once removed. His mother Nymphadora would be my first cousin. I would have liked to meet her, but all my mother said, was that it wasn't possible. And then aunt Bella went into her crazy mood." Draco's voice was so sincere that Harry was lost on how to react to it.
"After that we never mentioned her name or that of Andromeda again. It must be more than twenty years now since I last said that name" Draco goes on, without being asked.
It takes Harry a while to catch on, that Draco has just shared a childhood memory with him. His heart starts to flutter as he realizes it.
Draco has this thing, in all the three years they have never shared anything that was more than a week in the past. This sharing of a childhood memory is Draco‘s way of saying he is trying, or at least Harry hopes so.
Draco‘s words can be sharp, hurtful and twisted. The Slytherin uses words like weapons to attack with and shields to hide behind, but to find the truth in them one usually has to work through layers after layers of subtext. So for him to just share so openly is nearly as much of a confession of wanting more, like Harry‘s earlier invitation to his home has been.
"I'm sure Teddy would like to meet you if you want to," Harry suggests tentatively.
"Don't push it Potter," is the reply Harry hears before his last syllable is spoken.
"Not pushing, just you know... you can think about it," Harry says, and scratches the back of his head, while standing next to Draco looking at the pictures of Teddy, The Weasleys and himself. For a moment he tries to see what Draco might be seeing in these pictures but he gives up hope as he squints to his left and sees the calm, nearly expressionless face. Draco really doesn't share easily.
"Want something to drink?" Harry asks after a moment his own voice sounding raw, and he has to clear his throat.
"Really smooth, Potter," Draco smirks and turns towards Harry, "Don't sweat it, your home looks quite alright to me." And with that he walks straight to the sofa and sits himself down on the big, comfortable blue piece of furniture, that has scratch and bite marks on both of its wooden legs, like he owns the place.
"How come you are living here?" Draco asks as Harry puts down the wine glasses, filled with red wine.
As Draco sees the glasses, his eyebrow rises again: "Bold choice giving the vineyard owner wine. What are you playing at?" he asks again, before Harry even has a chance to answer the first question.
"I'm not completely stupid, Draco. This one is from your vineyard. I'm not really a wine person, but I have some connections," Harry grins and sits down next to Draco. Somehow this feels unreal, but his heart is hammering, his skin is prickling, and his side is warmed by Draco's close body.
"Now I'm intrigued, which special connections did you have to use to get my wine?" Draco asks.
"I asked Pansy of course," Harry answers, rolling his eyes.
"I will never get my head around the pair of you," Draco shakes his head.
"She is cool, and good company." Harry shrugs, not knowing what else to say.
"She says similar things about you," Draco grins in a secretive way.
"Actually me and her make a lot more sense than you and her," Harry states, trying not to ponder why they were having this odd conversation about Pansy.
"Oh really? And why is that exactly?" Draco asks, pulling his feet out of his shoes.
"We have the same sense of humour, only she is far better at expressing it, we both get irritated at you for the same reasons, and both of us aren't as uptight as you," Harry answers.
Draco huffs and starts to remove his socks. "You haven't answered my question about how it happened that you live here."
"Only because you keep throwing questions at me," Harry grumbles inaudibly, while watching very closely as Draco first rolls the left sock down and removes it, before his long, slender fingers restart the process on the right. Really removing socks, should not look this good on any man.
"I lived in London, at Grimmauld at first. But really, the renovations were so slow going and then... well with Andromeda's death, everything changed. Grimmauld isn't really a place for a young child. But for Teddy... Teddy is half wolf, and because of that and him being a Metamorphmagus it was just no longer an option," Harry sighs and leans himself back into the sofa cushion. "Why here, I can't really say. I liked the house, the neighbours are nice and not too close and the wizarding community here is rather small, so that if it gets out where I live and a commotion starts, they would at least be as annoyed as me. Not to mention that the Muggles would be rather interested too" Harry shrugs and opens his eyes, he hadn't noticed they were closed.
"That is a rather ingenious, if I may say so myself," Draco says and Harry has to grin because that is high praise indeed, coming from a Slytherin. He is watching Draco as he moves closer and then swings his leg over Harry‘s to sit on top of him. Ever so leisurely Draco starts to unfasten his tie very slowly, and in his own unique way. Harry stares at the fine fingers, first pulling the knot down to the middle of his chest, before he undoes the knot, not with simple pulling but with the reverse movements of the knot-making. And then the silken band is pulled to the left, carelessly dropped on the floor. Harry follows the cloth with his eyes, until it leaves Draco‘s fingers. It‘s really the fingers he is mesmerized with: so long, so elegant and delicate, but at the same time so very strong, and able to move very fast.
"You know, I can‘t stop wondering, why would you dress this well, when all you want is to get me into your home?" Draco asks in a voice that sounds very suggestive to Harry. "Really, it‘s such a waste of good leather," he remarks, while his hands travel over is leather-clad thighs.
"It worked," Harry answers, not really witty or anything, but Draco‘s body on top of his is doing a very good job at turning his brain off and his body on.
"Yeah it did. But imagine us at the club, the bass loaded music you like so much playing, and we are dancing to it. I am dressed in my usual tight trousers, and so we would be able to feel the heat of our bodies through our cloths. I know the way you sway your hips to that kind of music, so I move in sync with you. The people are staring at us, but this time not because of who we are, but because they are drawn by the erotic tension of the moment we share," Draco whispers in to his ear, his hips slowly moving against Harry‘s.
They both can feel how they are getting hard in their trousers, not only because of the friction of the movement, but also due to Draco‘s words. It is like being turned on for two different reasons at the same time. There is Draco on him, and then there is Draco‘s voice, creating an entire scene that has happened before and at the same time, never has, because he has never worn these leather pants.
"We aren‘t bothered by the attention at first, we know that we look good together. You- dark, tempting, fierce, with a clumsy edge to your movements, that I never know if it is deliberate. Me- the extravagant beauty, everybody thinks I‘m an easy lay, but you know better. I make you work for it, make you prove you deserve my regard. The tension between us is tangible in the air, and we hear the breaths around us hitch, as I finally show you some mercy and lean in to give you the kiss you have been hoping for all night," Draco goes on, and Harry moans loudly before he wets his lips.
Oh yes, he wants that kiss, has been thinking about kissing Draco all evening. Harry had hoped that he had hid it rather well, but Draco always notices his wants and needs.
Harry can feel the smirk on Draco‘s soft lips, before the blond finally leans in and really kisses him.
Finally.
Harry has kissed quite a few people through the years, but kissing Draco is something he is never able to describe quite right. Even to himself, he just lacks the words. He would go for demanding, fierce, attention giving, hot, erotic, and something that was just like in the middle of a thunderstorm, and you feel the lightning coming straight at you, but before it hits you time stops. Draco‘s kisses feel like a force of nature, and Harry just gives in and lets himself enjoy it.
"Dra...co" he mumbles as Draco sets his lips free again.
"Yes?" comes the answer with a heavy breath and a matching smirk..
Harry‘s hips feel shaky, despite him sitting on his sofa barely moving them. "Going... if you don‘t... stop, or I will come in my pants," he protests against the will of his body. He wants more than just this incredible friction. He has plans.
"That would be a good reason for you to get rid of them later." Harry feels the words across his lips, and then there is the feeling of fingers rubbing his hard cock beneath all the leather and another loud moan escapes him. Damn, that felt good! He should have worn those leather trousers sooner.
"Go ahead, we have plenty of time," Draco whispers in a very dark smooth tone into his ear again, letting his tongue travel around it, and then the fingers press harder against the leather and move the cloth along his already leaking erection. He sees a sudden flash lightening up the room, feels the huffs of Draco‘s breath hitting his wetted skin and moans again.
There is the sound of deep growling coming from somewhere, but Harry thinks that it might be him, as his orgasm takes him higher. He is still floating on a cloud of bliss when his sensation loaded mind tells him two things. First, the growling is still audible and, second, Draco has gone very still on top of him. He slowly opens his eyes, as a loud thunder shatters the window's glass around them, and the growl turns into a yelp.
"Teddy" Harry sits up straight and removes Draco unceremoniously from his lap to look at his fireplace, where indeed a small, dark brown wolf is sitting whimpering uncertainly.
"Oh come here, my little wolf," Harry says and stands up, wincing about the feel of cold come against his skin, which he removes with a quick wandless hand movement, and goes to his godson. His knees aren‘t even touching the ground yet, but the next thunder roars through the sky, and the tiny wolf is jumping on Harry, hiding his face in the creek of Harry‘s neck.
"Are-are-are you alright, Ha-Ha-Harry?" Teddy stutters softly and Harry feels the thin arms tighten further around his neck.
"Very alright. Why are you..."
"But-But-But the other man, he was-was- uhhm-he was hurting you, you were screaming," Teddy injects before Harry has the chance to finish his question.
"He wasn‘t hurting me," Harry smiles but also had no idea how to explain what had happened to him. It isn‘t that he hadn't talked with Teddy about how babies come to be, and a light version of the ‚Sex-talk‘ had already been had, since Harry simply refused to lie to Teddy.
However, Harry is also very aware that Teddy isn‘t really that interested in what the boy calls 'grown-up-talk'. In opposition to all the other kids Harry knows from Teddy‘s playgroup and his own memories as a child, Teddy finds them not only boring but also only remembers the really, really important stuff like, 'in summer Teddy can have one ice cream a day,' and 'if he breaks all his toys because he is not careful on purpose, he has to wait until his birthday or Christmas come around for new toys.'
It‘s not that Teddy totally forgets the other stuff, at least Harry hopes not, it‘s just that the boy has very little need to talk about it. Maybe it is because Harry offers all the information freely, if asked, that nosing around isn‘t what his godson likes to do.
This method of his is very scorned upon by Molly, as she thinks that not everything is appropriate for a child to know. Each time they have a discussion he remembers clearly the heated words spoken in the basement kitchen of Grimmauld Place. And in the end, now as a grownup he sides even more with Sirius than before. If he had known what was going on, if he had had all the information the grownups had kept from him, maybe things would have happened differently Children are as strong as they need to be, or as strong as they think they have to be, and Harry wants for Teddy to only be as strong as he needs to be and to know that he can trust Harry, that Harry would never lie to him about anything.
More lightning, followed by mean sounding thunder, flashes through the room and Teddy whimpers again, starting to shake in Harry‘s arms.
"It‘s alright Teddy, you know that nothing will happen to you here," Harry tries to calm the child and sits down in front of the fire.
"At-at-at uncle Bill‘s house the windows were sh-sh-shaking, making lou-lo-loud noises," Teddy says in a whisper, "I was afr-afr-afraid."
"Did you tell uncle Bill, that you were going home?" Harry asks, but he fears he already knows the answer to that. And after a few moments, the small boy shakes his head ever so slowly.
Harry sighs. It would make no sense to send an owl to Bill now, so he might as well floo-call them in the morning.
"Sorry Draco, I'll ju..." Harry gets up and turns around to the sofa once more, only to find it empty, Draco is long gone.
"Should we go and read another story from you book?" Harry asks and Teddy nods very approvingly. "Your room or mine?" Harry inquires further. Teddy has always been allowed to sleep in Harry‘s bed if he wishes too. Be it for the reason that the boy wants too, or that he has nightmares or, more recently added, for his fear of thunderstorms. Sometimes however Teddy doesn't want to give up his bed, so Harry will sleep in Teddy‘s room.
"Yours," Teddy mumbles and rubs at his eyes tiredly.
Harry nods, looks one more time to the empty sofa, sighs because of all his plans have gone wrong and Draco has gone missing again, and then climbs the stairs.
If only he knew how to find Draco outside of the club, but Pansy has enforced a very strict 'I don‘t ask you and you don‘t ask me‘- rule. Because, after all, she is Draco‘s best friend. And sometimes Harry wonders, if that rule isn‘t really to save him, because if she wanted she could extract all kinds of information from him.
However, Friday night is only two nights away and this one is nearly over, he can speak to Draco then.
::
On Friday, Harry enters their usual club unreasonably early. Even the nice bartender frowns upon his early entry, which makes Harry smile sheepishly at her. He just doesn‘t want to miss Draco. A rather stupid fear, but he can‘t help himself. Teddy is safely with George for the night, and will have loads of fun that Harry doesn't need to know about in great detail. This time Harry has even checked the weather forecast and, besides a little rain shower during the night, nothing is supposed to happen.
Before he had come here, he had had a debate with himself about whether he should give his leather pants another try, maybe make the last fantasy Draco had thought of come true. But in the end he hadn‘t. Draco and he need to talk. The sudden disappearing stunt Draco had pulled - Harry isn‘t sure what he thinks about it, but certainly has mixed feelings.
He understands the whys and it was partly his fault. He had, after all, tossed Draco aside as soon as he realized Teddy was there. Each time he remembers that particular move, his insides cringe. What had he been thinking? Well, he hadn't really been thinking, his mind has been engaged with something not-thinking. It also happened because Harry can‘t explain why, all of the sudden, Teddy is so afraid of storms, it worries him a little. So, of course, when Teddy flooed home on a stormy night, without help from a grown up, Harry would try to find out what was wrong.
Still, he had overreacted but so had Draco, apparating away without a word, and a very silent pop. How does he manage that in the first place?
Harry takes another sip from his Ginger Ale. It is his fifth by now, and it‘s already way past their usual meeting time. Harry has watched people flock into the club, and now they starting to leave again. Draco, however, is a no-show. The nice bartender shoots him pitiful looks every time she looks his way. He debates whether he should go home every time he reaches the bottom of his glass, or is about to order a new one. In the end, he stays because he hopes that Draco might just be running late. Well, even more late than usual.
Pansy has tried to explain to him that there is a difference between 'fashionably late‘ and 'unreasonably late‘. Apparently, it's a notion Slytherins are born with. But today Draco is way past the 'fashionably late‘ and most probably also the 'unreasonably late‘. Harry knows the chances of Draco showing up are getting slimmer by the minute, but he has nothing else to do, and if he were to go home he would do exactly the same thing there as he is here, sit and drink. Only at home, he would go for the firewhisky and have a pity-party for himself.
As the bartender puts down his next glass of ale, and pushes the nuts closer to him, with a wary smile, Harry notices in his peripheral view a tall blond figure edging closer to him and turns around to see Draco in his work suit stepping up. In his fine tailored suit Draco looks nothing like how he looks on their usual Friday nights, and Harry feels yet another twist in his gut. What if he has destroyed what they have? Just because he wanted more? He can‘t imagine not talking with Draco about his week. It‘s a very nice habit by now, and Harry doesn‘t want to give it up.
"Didn‘t expect you to be here still," Draco says and glides onto his usual bar stool. "I was working late, forgot the time, you know," he goes on and drags a hand through his hair, refusing to look Harry into the eyes.
Harry takes a deep breath, trying to figure out what Draco is really saying. It‘s clear to him that Draco didn‘t forget the time. Draco's internal clock is sometimes more accurate than Harry‘s own watch. So Draco hadn‘t been sure if he wanted to come? Had he hoped he would miss Harry?
"My week isn‘t complete without you in it, so I waited and hoped," Harry answers and smiles softly.
In the end, Draco has shown up, that is all that counts for Harry.
"How is that child-" Draco stops himself and takes a deep breath. "How is Teddy doing?" he finally asks, his hand clamping down on each other.
"He is fine, all good. He is afraid of loud thunder, but doesn‘t tell me why," Harry answers and grabs one of Draco‘s hands.
"Might be his wolf hearing, picking up more than us," Draco muses and bites down on his lips. "Pansy says I‘m an idiot. Destroying what I wanted since I was a small, snotty schoolboy," Draco rolls his eyes, nodding at the bartender who sat down his usual Friday cocktail in front of him.
"She has a point more often than not," Harry advices and keeps smiling. This conversation is what he had hoped and wished for on Wednesday night. Well, part of it, but he had wanted it, some kind of knowing what is going on.
"Teddy-"
"Was afraid of a storm, and asked one uncomfortable question. But then I have heard that all children see their parents being intimate sooner or later" Harry shrugs and as Draco turns red next to him, he smirks, satisfied. So even the great Lucius Malfoy had not managed to escape his son's eyes. Interesting that.
"See my point. I think I was just lucky because seeing my aunt and uncle would have put me off sex forever. And that I have a cousin is proof that they did it sometimes." Harry shudders and laughs at the same time.
"Not funny, Potter," Draco whispers harshly.
"It is a little," Harry grins without feeling even remotely guilty.
"That child thought I was hurting you. He will hate me if he ever sees me again," Draco says and removes his hand from Harry‘s touch, to fold his arms over his chest.
"There are ways around that," Harry tries to reassure.
"We could have a meatball dinner, and you bring a nice chocolate cake and some lovely sweets and he will adore you. And you are his blood family, maybe you can tell him a little bit about the noble and most ancient house of Black?" Harry moves his thigh to nudge Draco‘s.
"I‘m not sure he would really like to hear about them. Malfoy‘s are bad but they at least tried to hide it. The Blacks, they liked to be known for the stuff they did," he still sounds vary.
"Draco?" Harry asks and touches Draco‘s face, to make him look at Harry.
"No expectations, you don‘t have to meet him tonight. To be honest I would prefer for you not to meet him tonight," he says, his tone very sincere, until it becomes flirty without his consent.
"Really? So tonight you have other plans?" Draco leans in, his hand finding Harry‘s thigh underneath the table.
"Might have," Harry has to fight his happy smile as he sees Draco finally relaxing.
"Oh? And am I part of those plans?" And there is that tone, that makes Harry‘s body ache. The low, taunting words already having a direct link to his libido.
"I might know a location where your plans won‘t be interrupted by sudden child appearances," Draco speaks against his lips.
Harry has to swallow. How does Draco do that? Just with his voice, his gestures and those damn silver eyes that flash ever so promising in the dimmed, moving lights of the club.
'It‘s because it's Draco, of course, and he has wrapped you around his little finger,‘ his inner Pansy supplies, like he believes the real one would do too.
"I would like to see that location very much," Harry answers in a very hoarse voice.
"So you shall." Draco moves away, which makes Harry groan in disappointment, and slides from his seat.
In his fear of being left behind- it has after all happened before, and Harry was lucky to have known Draco‘s favourite hotel room- Harry also leaves his seat quite hastily, only to come face to face with Draco. He looks ever so slightly up, into those daring eyes and smiles just because.
"I will need time for the whole Teddy thing, but when it comes to us, I‘m more than comfortable with more than just Friday nights. I also understand that you and Teddy are a package," Draco states, and Harry‘s heart races.
"All in good time," he replies, and slings his hands around Draco‘s neck. "And I think now is a perfect time to finally show me where you live, secretive bastard" he teases, like they do nearly every Friday night.
"Not a bastard, my parents were married before I was even conceived. You don‘t see me for two days and all your word definitions are mixed up again," Draco smiles and leans in a little more. "And it's not like you invited me over before Wednesday night," he goes on with a weird undertone Harry is not sure he understands. Could it be that Draco has been waiting for Harry to invite him over? Nah, that can‘t be it... can it?
"Draco?" he says and shakes his head ever so slightly their lips nearly touching, but still not really touching. "Take me home, and then I want you to kiss me. Always making me wait," he says and hopes it comes across as demanding and not as begging.
"You only had to ask," Draco says, and walks him out of the club, and apparates them away.
Author/Artist: smirkingcat
Prompt:# 60: Prompt: Teddy seeks comfort from Harry in the middle of the night during a thunderstorm and finds cousin Draco in the bed with Harry.
Suggested Character(s)/Pairings: Harry/Draco
Prompt submitted by: susan5124
Pairing(s): Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy
Word Count/Art Medium: ~7k
Rating: NC-17
Warning(s): not sure fluff gone wrong- maybe?
Disclaimer:Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Notes: in this story I really, really feel like and for harry, he and I certainly experience the same things with our plans and how they don't work out but work out or something.
THANK YOU so much dear darkravenwrote. for the awesome, last min beta, it really helped me a lot!!!
and thanks to the mod team who also helped me a great deal with this fic
- all remaining style, grammar, spag issues are mine, and mine alone
have fun reading!
Summary: Harry has it all planned out, he tries to take a not Gryffindor approach after all. So why does he still end up doing things the Gryffindor way?
Harry’s plans working out in not working out
Every time the door opens Harry‘s eyes shift to it, staring at the person who enters. For a few seconds even the nervous tapping of his foot stops as he pulls himself together in expectation, before he realises that this man also isn‘t Draco.
It‘s the usual club; Harry is sitting at their usual table, but everything else is very different. It‘s a Wednesday night for one and Harry hasn‘t been out on a week night for nearly four years. His heart speeds up a notch every time he allows himself to think about it, letting his eyes drift over the other patrons, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. This might turn out to be a big mistake.
He drags his fingers through his hair to calm himself, only to curse because he is destroying the hours of hard work he put into his hair tonight. He had, after all, used five different potions on his hair. His mirror had been impressed, not only by the result- because apparently the potions had some effect- but also by his dedication.
He‘s also wearing the expensive, high quality, dark green button down Ginny had gotten him for his birthday three or four years ago. It had come with the words: 'To draw attention to your eyes, because they deserve it.' Harry had looked slightly puzzled at Ginny, not knowing what to make of this comment. It had been Dean who had said to Harry with the self-assurance only a fashion designer can have when it comes to talk about fashion, "It will make you look fabulous, trust me," all the while with his arm slung around Ginny's waist to pull her in closer. And Harry trusts Dean in this regard, not only because of the words, but when he looked down at the shirt, he saw that it was from 'Lavender & Style‘, the brand Dean had created together with Lavender. When it comes to style many wizards turn to them these days and through the years he has gotten quite a pile of fabulous clothing made by ‚Lavender & Style‘. At least Ron and George haven‘t ever gotten him anything to wear. Must be because both of them understand all too clearly how hard it is to get excited about clothing for one's birthday.
However tonight Harry has put his friends gifts to good use; the dark green button down was accompanied by very smooth black leather pants that fit Harry loosely if he stands, but are tight if he is sitting. It‘s the first time he has worn them, but today they will make the impression they were designed for. Because he has noticed it through the years he has been meeting with... dating?... shagging... ? something Draco..., that the blond has a thing for leather pants, and that they always manage to catch his eyes. And today Harry wants Draco's eyes all to himself.
That‘s why the fine dragon hide shoes and a silver bracelet finish his outfit.
According to Teddy he looks very shiny. Listening to his mirror, he looks dashing and bloody fantastic. And if he goes by the looks he receives from some of the men and women around him, he is certainly making an impression. Now it has to work on Draco too.
Harry takes another sip of his drink, wondering if the female barkeeper from their usual Friday nights was leading him on, and Draco doesn‘t come here on weekdays. He doesn't really believe that the nice girl was making a joke out of him, but at the same time he wouldn‘t totally put it past her. She already joked often enough about his pining eyes and his lovey-dovey looks, when he gets the drinks for them. Most of the time he takes it with good humour, hoping that Draco experiences the same remarks, but the Slytherin never came back with a visible blush. Unlike Harry, who then has to listen to Draco joking about Harry and his unresolved feelings towards women.
Harry has no unresolved feelings towards women. His feelings towards women are perfectly resolved and fine. Thank you. He has unresolved feelings towards a Malfoy. For all the remarks about Slytherins missing nothing important, Malfoy never took note about Harry falling for him a little more with each meeting - date? Harry sighs deeply. This really isn‘t helping him now.
The door is purposefully pushed open again. Harry glances at it without any real hope, only to see Draco stepping in. Without any warning Harry‘s heart starts to pound hard in his chest, while his palms are getting sweaty and his throat seems to have turned into a desert.
Harry is aware that Draco is a very good looking man - he has seen him naked after all - but Draco‘s beauty is not of the perfect kind like that of the old antique marble statues. Draco‘s beauty is in his sharp lines, which he moves in fluent gestures. It's the aristocratic face, with a very fine nose and the blazing eyes which can never hide what the man really is thinking about. It's the Dark Mark on his left forearm, which is as much of a turn on to Harry as any openly inviting gesture from the man, and the scars on his chest and the birthmarks on his back, forming no real pattern, but are still intriguing.
In the summer soft freckles appear, not anything like the multitudes of red dots the Weasleys are sporting, but more like a dusting, which coats his sharp cheeks. But this is all nothing to the impression Draco makes when fully clothed, emitting a sense of self-satisfaction, pride, and something that feels like a mixture of joy and mischief . The certainly hand-tailored three-piece suit is more than flattering on the lean body and Harry‘s breath catches in his throat as those silver-grey eyes meet his, showing confusion, before lightening up with what Harry hopes is excitement.
As Draco walks over with a purposeful stride, Harry is working hard to unstick his tongue so that he will be able to at least say something useful. Damn Draco with that beauty that makes it hard for Harry to breath.
"Potter, what a pleasant surprise to see you here on a weeknight" Draco says, before his elegant right eyebrow is lifted, and Harry can see Draco noticing his outfit. "Aren‘t we looking dashing tonight," he hears, and then there it is; the flexible tongue moving across the red upper lip, as grey eyes notice Harry‘s leather clad legs.
This was the reason for the trousers.
"Someone here has big plans. I might have to ask if I‘m intruding," Draco goes on, eyes moving ever so slowly back to Harry‘s. And really Harry should say something and not just admire the man.
"No, not intruding" he mumbles, his lips barely moving, while his blush is working over his face. "I've been waiting for you," he goes on, before he can stop himself.
"Really? Maybe I should‘ve come into agreement with Mr Duval sooner," Draco replies and sits down, after removing his waistcoat.
"Mr Duval?" Harry asks, puzzled, watching Draco‘s fingers work their way through what he knows from experience is very soft and silky hair.
"No one of great importance, if you aren‘t in the French wine business, which you aren‘t" Draco says, rolling up his sleeves so that half of his underarms are showing. As usual Harry‘s eyes are drawn to the black lines, which have diminished over the years, but are still clearly visible.
"No I‘m not, thank you for the reminder" Harry rebuffs and nudges Draco‘s knee with his.
"Be glad you aren't, really. It‘s more of a hassle than even I like to admit most of the time" Draco says in what Harry has dubbed the apologetic tone. It isn‘t really, it's not even close to an apology, but after the nearly three years of the casual thing they have going on, Harry has learned that Draco simply sees no need to apologize. It‘s just whatever Draco says he really means in that moment. His temper has always been one Draco‘s flaws. But this endears him to Harry even more, because Harry himself is lacking in the department of self-restrain. Moreover this lack of propriety that has survived through the strict upbringing Harry can only imagine the Malfoy household provided, and through the toughing up in a school dormitory that's all about getting one over on others until the reign of a war. For Harry this speaks of immense strength of character.
"So you meet with this Mr Duval to talk about wine?" Harry asks still interested in why Draco is in such a good mood.
"Well, yes, in a way. Mr Duval is a very difficult man and has a lot of influence in the world of wine. As you might be aware wine from any Malfoy vineyard isn't really selling well in wizarding Britain, but our wine is extremely sought after by French and Spanish Muggles. Something Mr Duval has tried to hide from me, thinking that I only ever go to France to have a nice holiday" Draco‘s lips move in a very displeased way, before the gleam enters back into his eyes, and the lips start to form a grin, that Harry finds incredible sexy.
"Well, long story short, today I convinced the man to pay up what he owed" Draco finished reaching for Harry‘s glass, and raising his glass before he takes a slip from it.
"Sounds like a well earned victory to me" Harry agrees making a toasting notion with his empty hand.
"So that was my story about why I came here today," Draco states and puts down the glass, looking at Harry very intensely. Harry wants to inject that he has heard that Malfoy usually is here on a Wednesday, but before he can even start the sentence, Draco already has gone on.
"Now tell me Potter, what are you doing here, all styled up, waiting - by your own words - for me?" Draco asks, eyebrow raised but a tone of approval in his voice.
"I didn‘t want to wait for Friday?" Harry states boldly, grinning as he notices the slight widening of Draco's eyes. He takes another deep breath. It was now or never. In his mind it is so easy to go on. It would change their relationship, would make it into something more- hopefully, maybe even into something akin to a relationship. Another deep breath.
In for a sickle in for a knut.
"And I thought if I dressed better, you may lose the fear of my wardrobe and come home with me," he states, trying to sound seductive but also a little bit blasé. He isn‘t sure he really manages either through the nervousness.
Three years and they never have been anywhere else but at cheesy Muggle hotels, back allies, and toilets. Harry has enough of that. He wants to be in love and he wants to have all the nice stuff that comes with it.
"I never said I was afraid of your wardrobe, even if some of the pieces in it really are questionable" Draco says, head turned away so that Harry can‘t see the honest eyes.
"I‘m just not convinced that it will do us both any good to get this privately involved for a casual shag" he goes on, and Harry has to take a deep breath.
Casual shag? Draco can‘t be serious. Harry hasn‘t been seeing anybody else but Draco since they started this thing. And he knows that Draco hasn‘t been with anybody else but him for this past year, so why would he go and make that remark?
"I don‘t think that we are casual anymore" Harry whispers, reaching for Draco‘s fingers.
"Potter, I told you at the beginning: I don‘t do relationships" Draco withdraws his hand and finally turns his head looking angry. "Remember that was the reason we started this whole casual thing: I don‘t do relationships and you can‘t do relationships, because of the small child you have to take care of. Really what are you thinking?" Draco shakes his head ever so slightly and gets up. "Owl me when you've got your head back together."
Maybe it is something in Draco's voice, something about the way he moves, or just because Harry wishes for it, that he sees a glimmer of some strange emotion that Harry isn‘t quite sure he could name, in Draco's eyes. He gets up fast and grabs Draco by the wrist, stops the man from leaving.
"Don‘t-" Harry starts but has no words. "Please, don‘t just go" he whispers, feeling very helpless.
"Potter... Harry, I..." Draco sighs, and Harry looks at him, trying to understand.
"Come home with me tonight," Harry asks again, slowly moving his fingers so that they entwine with Draco‘s. "You should‘ve known from the start, that I can only do casual for so long," Harry mumbles, cautious humour in his voice.
"Bloody Gryffindor" Draco replies softly.
"Don‘t you forget it" Harry smiles and steps even closer, their noses touching.
"What about that kid of yours?" Draco inquires in a sharp tone, which is trying to hide the insecurities that Harry can easily read in the unsure movements of long elegant fingers.
"Teddy is at a sleep over with his uncle Bill, aunt Fleur‘s and their daughter Victoire, who he adores," Harry explains.
"Just..." Draco takes a deep breath, "Potter, don‘t expect too much of me. I wasn‘t lying back then, I suck at this," he whispers and Harry felt the words more against his lips, than he was really able to hear them.
"Draco" Harry puts his hand at Draco‘s lower back and drags him close, their bodies touching, not even air between them. "I expect nothing" Harry says hastily, and Draco just arches an eyebrow. "Yeah, well nothing that you won‘t be able to give me at least. I want to spend time with you, I don‘t want to suppress the urge to write you, when I have good news, or when I want to see you. I don‘t want us to only be about the sex anymore, because you are so much more to me" Harry confesses and in the end it‘s much easier than he had feared it would be.
"Your friends would be horrified, if they could hear you" Draco replies, face turned away again, his cheeks clearly red in the shady.
"They already know. Gryffindor, remember? I speak about you nearly every day," Harry says, and is amazed to watch as Draco‘s ears turn pink right in front of him.
"Let‘s go, before I change my mind" the Slytherin says and stalks out of the club. Harry follows him with a soft smile on his face.
It hasn‘t happened exactly as Harry had planned it in his head, but the outcome might be even better, than the one he had been going for.
"So dear Saviour, where do you life?" Draco asks as Harry catches up to him outside on the way to the small park, from which they could apparate away unseen.
"I live in a small house near Little Sodbury, Gloucestershire," Harry says and holds out his hand for Draco to take it.
"Gloucestershire?" Draco muses before he rolls his eyes. "Of course you would end up there."
Harry looks at Draco in confusion, not really understanding the joke that Draco seems to be making, especially since Harry knows he has no connection to Gloucestershire.
"Did the Potters live there in the past?" Harry asks, while watching as Draco at long last takes his hand ever so carefully.
"Not that I‘m aware of, but their official motto is: 'Prorsum semper'. As a Gryffindor this must be very appealing to you," Draco smirks back at Harry.
Harry is still slightly puzzled especially as Latin isn‘t really his forte. However he opts to ask Draco later, because now that Draco has finally taken his hand, he can take the other man home with him.
As they land on his doorstep Draco looks around, waiting until Harry opens the door. Even as he steps into the small house he says nothing and keeps looking around.
Harry isn't sure how to take this sudden silence. Does Draco dislike his home so much? Was it displeasing to Draco? Maybe Draco expected something more high-class? Damn, maybe he really hadn't thought this through?
"So you and that child" Draco starts.
"Don't call him 'that child'. His name is Teddy, and he is after all your cousin," Harry growls. 'That child' sounds very clinical, especially when it was Draco saying it.
"Once removed" Draco says and steps further into the room, to the pictures hanging on the wall next to the stairs.
"What?" Harry asks, feeling like a complete moron for all the things Draco says and he isn't understanding tonight.
"He is my first cousin once removed. His mother Nymphadora would be my first cousin. I would have liked to meet her, but all my mother said, was that it wasn't possible. And then aunt Bella went into her crazy mood." Draco's voice was so sincere that Harry was lost on how to react to it.
"After that we never mentioned her name or that of Andromeda again. It must be more than twenty years now since I last said that name" Draco goes on, without being asked.
It takes Harry a while to catch on, that Draco has just shared a childhood memory with him. His heart starts to flutter as he realizes it.
Draco has this thing, in all the three years they have never shared anything that was more than a week in the past. This sharing of a childhood memory is Draco‘s way of saying he is trying, or at least Harry hopes so.
Draco‘s words can be sharp, hurtful and twisted. The Slytherin uses words like weapons to attack with and shields to hide behind, but to find the truth in them one usually has to work through layers after layers of subtext. So for him to just share so openly is nearly as much of a confession of wanting more, like Harry‘s earlier invitation to his home has been.
"I'm sure Teddy would like to meet you if you want to," Harry suggests tentatively.
"Don't push it Potter," is the reply Harry hears before his last syllable is spoken.
"Not pushing, just you know... you can think about it," Harry says, and scratches the back of his head, while standing next to Draco looking at the pictures of Teddy, The Weasleys and himself. For a moment he tries to see what Draco might be seeing in these pictures but he gives up hope as he squints to his left and sees the calm, nearly expressionless face. Draco really doesn't share easily.
"Want something to drink?" Harry asks after a moment his own voice sounding raw, and he has to clear his throat.
"Really smooth, Potter," Draco smirks and turns towards Harry, "Don't sweat it, your home looks quite alright to me." And with that he walks straight to the sofa and sits himself down on the big, comfortable blue piece of furniture, that has scratch and bite marks on both of its wooden legs, like he owns the place.
"How come you are living here?" Draco asks as Harry puts down the wine glasses, filled with red wine.
As Draco sees the glasses, his eyebrow rises again: "Bold choice giving the vineyard owner wine. What are you playing at?" he asks again, before Harry even has a chance to answer the first question.
"I'm not completely stupid, Draco. This one is from your vineyard. I'm not really a wine person, but I have some connections," Harry grins and sits down next to Draco. Somehow this feels unreal, but his heart is hammering, his skin is prickling, and his side is warmed by Draco's close body.
"Now I'm intrigued, which special connections did you have to use to get my wine?" Draco asks.
"I asked Pansy of course," Harry answers, rolling his eyes.
"I will never get my head around the pair of you," Draco shakes his head.
"She is cool, and good company." Harry shrugs, not knowing what else to say.
"She says similar things about you," Draco grins in a secretive way.
"Actually me and her make a lot more sense than you and her," Harry states, trying not to ponder why they were having this odd conversation about Pansy.
"Oh really? And why is that exactly?" Draco asks, pulling his feet out of his shoes.
"We have the same sense of humour, only she is far better at expressing it, we both get irritated at you for the same reasons, and both of us aren't as uptight as you," Harry answers.
Draco huffs and starts to remove his socks. "You haven't answered my question about how it happened that you live here."
"Only because you keep throwing questions at me," Harry grumbles inaudibly, while watching very closely as Draco first rolls the left sock down and removes it, before his long, slender fingers restart the process on the right. Really removing socks, should not look this good on any man.
"I lived in London, at Grimmauld at first. But really, the renovations were so slow going and then... well with Andromeda's death, everything changed. Grimmauld isn't really a place for a young child. But for Teddy... Teddy is half wolf, and because of that and him being a Metamorphmagus it was just no longer an option," Harry sighs and leans himself back into the sofa cushion. "Why here, I can't really say. I liked the house, the neighbours are nice and not too close and the wizarding community here is rather small, so that if it gets out where I live and a commotion starts, they would at least be as annoyed as me. Not to mention that the Muggles would be rather interested too" Harry shrugs and opens his eyes, he hadn't noticed they were closed.
"That is a rather ingenious, if I may say so myself," Draco says and Harry has to grin because that is high praise indeed, coming from a Slytherin. He is watching Draco as he moves closer and then swings his leg over Harry‘s to sit on top of him. Ever so leisurely Draco starts to unfasten his tie very slowly, and in his own unique way. Harry stares at the fine fingers, first pulling the knot down to the middle of his chest, before he undoes the knot, not with simple pulling but with the reverse movements of the knot-making. And then the silken band is pulled to the left, carelessly dropped on the floor. Harry follows the cloth with his eyes, until it leaves Draco‘s fingers. It‘s really the fingers he is mesmerized with: so long, so elegant and delicate, but at the same time so very strong, and able to move very fast.
"You know, I can‘t stop wondering, why would you dress this well, when all you want is to get me into your home?" Draco asks in a voice that sounds very suggestive to Harry. "Really, it‘s such a waste of good leather," he remarks, while his hands travel over is leather-clad thighs.
"It worked," Harry answers, not really witty or anything, but Draco‘s body on top of his is doing a very good job at turning his brain off and his body on.
"Yeah it did. But imagine us at the club, the bass loaded music you like so much playing, and we are dancing to it. I am dressed in my usual tight trousers, and so we would be able to feel the heat of our bodies through our cloths. I know the way you sway your hips to that kind of music, so I move in sync with you. The people are staring at us, but this time not because of who we are, but because they are drawn by the erotic tension of the moment we share," Draco whispers in to his ear, his hips slowly moving against Harry‘s.
They both can feel how they are getting hard in their trousers, not only because of the friction of the movement, but also due to Draco‘s words. It is like being turned on for two different reasons at the same time. There is Draco on him, and then there is Draco‘s voice, creating an entire scene that has happened before and at the same time, never has, because he has never worn these leather pants.
"We aren‘t bothered by the attention at first, we know that we look good together. You- dark, tempting, fierce, with a clumsy edge to your movements, that I never know if it is deliberate. Me- the extravagant beauty, everybody thinks I‘m an easy lay, but you know better. I make you work for it, make you prove you deserve my regard. The tension between us is tangible in the air, and we hear the breaths around us hitch, as I finally show you some mercy and lean in to give you the kiss you have been hoping for all night," Draco goes on, and Harry moans loudly before he wets his lips.
Oh yes, he wants that kiss, has been thinking about kissing Draco all evening. Harry had hoped that he had hid it rather well, but Draco always notices his wants and needs.
Harry can feel the smirk on Draco‘s soft lips, before the blond finally leans in and really kisses him.
Finally.
Harry has kissed quite a few people through the years, but kissing Draco is something he is never able to describe quite right. Even to himself, he just lacks the words. He would go for demanding, fierce, attention giving, hot, erotic, and something that was just like in the middle of a thunderstorm, and you feel the lightning coming straight at you, but before it hits you time stops. Draco‘s kisses feel like a force of nature, and Harry just gives in and lets himself enjoy it.
"Dra...co" he mumbles as Draco sets his lips free again.
"Yes?" comes the answer with a heavy breath and a matching smirk..
Harry‘s hips feel shaky, despite him sitting on his sofa barely moving them. "Going... if you don‘t... stop, or I will come in my pants," he protests against the will of his body. He wants more than just this incredible friction. He has plans.
"That would be a good reason for you to get rid of them later." Harry feels the words across his lips, and then there is the feeling of fingers rubbing his hard cock beneath all the leather and another loud moan escapes him. Damn, that felt good! He should have worn those leather trousers sooner.
"Go ahead, we have plenty of time," Draco whispers in a very dark smooth tone into his ear again, letting his tongue travel around it, and then the fingers press harder against the leather and move the cloth along his already leaking erection. He sees a sudden flash lightening up the room, feels the huffs of Draco‘s breath hitting his wetted skin and moans again.
There is the sound of deep growling coming from somewhere, but Harry thinks that it might be him, as his orgasm takes him higher. He is still floating on a cloud of bliss when his sensation loaded mind tells him two things. First, the growling is still audible and, second, Draco has gone very still on top of him. He slowly opens his eyes, as a loud thunder shatters the window's glass around them, and the growl turns into a yelp.
"Teddy" Harry sits up straight and removes Draco unceremoniously from his lap to look at his fireplace, where indeed a small, dark brown wolf is sitting whimpering uncertainly.
"Oh come here, my little wolf," Harry says and stands up, wincing about the feel of cold come against his skin, which he removes with a quick wandless hand movement, and goes to his godson. His knees aren‘t even touching the ground yet, but the next thunder roars through the sky, and the tiny wolf is jumping on Harry, hiding his face in the creek of Harry‘s neck.
"Are-are-are you alright, Ha-Ha-Harry?" Teddy stutters softly and Harry feels the thin arms tighten further around his neck.
"Very alright. Why are you..."
"But-But-But the other man, he was-was- uhhm-he was hurting you, you were screaming," Teddy injects before Harry has the chance to finish his question.
"He wasn‘t hurting me," Harry smiles but also had no idea how to explain what had happened to him. It isn‘t that he hadn't talked with Teddy about how babies come to be, and a light version of the ‚Sex-talk‘ had already been had, since Harry simply refused to lie to Teddy.
However, Harry is also very aware that Teddy isn‘t really that interested in what the boy calls 'grown-up-talk'. In opposition to all the other kids Harry knows from Teddy‘s playgroup and his own memories as a child, Teddy finds them not only boring but also only remembers the really, really important stuff like, 'in summer Teddy can have one ice cream a day,' and 'if he breaks all his toys because he is not careful on purpose, he has to wait until his birthday or Christmas come around for new toys.'
It‘s not that Teddy totally forgets the other stuff, at least Harry hopes not, it‘s just that the boy has very little need to talk about it. Maybe it is because Harry offers all the information freely, if asked, that nosing around isn‘t what his godson likes to do.
This method of his is very scorned upon by Molly, as she thinks that not everything is appropriate for a child to know. Each time they have a discussion he remembers clearly the heated words spoken in the basement kitchen of Grimmauld Place. And in the end, now as a grownup he sides even more with Sirius than before. If he had known what was going on, if he had had all the information the grownups had kept from him, maybe things would have happened differently Children are as strong as they need to be, or as strong as they think they have to be, and Harry wants for Teddy to only be as strong as he needs to be and to know that he can trust Harry, that Harry would never lie to him about anything.
More lightning, followed by mean sounding thunder, flashes through the room and Teddy whimpers again, starting to shake in Harry‘s arms.
"It‘s alright Teddy, you know that nothing will happen to you here," Harry tries to calm the child and sits down in front of the fire.
"At-at-at uncle Bill‘s house the windows were sh-sh-shaking, making lou-lo-loud noises," Teddy says in a whisper, "I was afr-afr-afraid."
"Did you tell uncle Bill, that you were going home?" Harry asks, but he fears he already knows the answer to that. And after a few moments, the small boy shakes his head ever so slowly.
Harry sighs. It would make no sense to send an owl to Bill now, so he might as well floo-call them in the morning.
"Sorry Draco, I'll ju..." Harry gets up and turns around to the sofa once more, only to find it empty, Draco is long gone.
"Should we go and read another story from you book?" Harry asks and Teddy nods very approvingly. "Your room or mine?" Harry inquires further. Teddy has always been allowed to sleep in Harry‘s bed if he wishes too. Be it for the reason that the boy wants too, or that he has nightmares or, more recently added, for his fear of thunderstorms. Sometimes however Teddy doesn't want to give up his bed, so Harry will sleep in Teddy‘s room.
"Yours," Teddy mumbles and rubs at his eyes tiredly.
Harry nods, looks one more time to the empty sofa, sighs because of all his plans have gone wrong and Draco has gone missing again, and then climbs the stairs.
If only he knew how to find Draco outside of the club, but Pansy has enforced a very strict 'I don‘t ask you and you don‘t ask me‘- rule. Because, after all, she is Draco‘s best friend. And sometimes Harry wonders, if that rule isn‘t really to save him, because if she wanted she could extract all kinds of information from him.
However, Friday night is only two nights away and this one is nearly over, he can speak to Draco then.
::
On Friday, Harry enters their usual club unreasonably early. Even the nice bartender frowns upon his early entry, which makes Harry smile sheepishly at her. He just doesn‘t want to miss Draco. A rather stupid fear, but he can‘t help himself. Teddy is safely with George for the night, and will have loads of fun that Harry doesn't need to know about in great detail. This time Harry has even checked the weather forecast and, besides a little rain shower during the night, nothing is supposed to happen.
Before he had come here, he had had a debate with himself about whether he should give his leather pants another try, maybe make the last fantasy Draco had thought of come true. But in the end he hadn‘t. Draco and he need to talk. The sudden disappearing stunt Draco had pulled - Harry isn‘t sure what he thinks about it, but certainly has mixed feelings.
He understands the whys and it was partly his fault. He had, after all, tossed Draco aside as soon as he realized Teddy was there. Each time he remembers that particular move, his insides cringe. What had he been thinking? Well, he hadn't really been thinking, his mind has been engaged with something not-thinking. It also happened because Harry can‘t explain why, all of the sudden, Teddy is so afraid of storms, it worries him a little. So, of course, when Teddy flooed home on a stormy night, without help from a grown up, Harry would try to find out what was wrong.
Still, he had overreacted but so had Draco, apparating away without a word, and a very silent pop. How does he manage that in the first place?
Harry takes another sip from his Ginger Ale. It is his fifth by now, and it‘s already way past their usual meeting time. Harry has watched people flock into the club, and now they starting to leave again. Draco, however, is a no-show. The nice bartender shoots him pitiful looks every time she looks his way. He debates whether he should go home every time he reaches the bottom of his glass, or is about to order a new one. In the end, he stays because he hopes that Draco might just be running late. Well, even more late than usual.
Pansy has tried to explain to him that there is a difference between 'fashionably late‘ and 'unreasonably late‘. Apparently, it's a notion Slytherins are born with. But today Draco is way past the 'fashionably late‘ and most probably also the 'unreasonably late‘. Harry knows the chances of Draco showing up are getting slimmer by the minute, but he has nothing else to do, and if he were to go home he would do exactly the same thing there as he is here, sit and drink. Only at home, he would go for the firewhisky and have a pity-party for himself.
As the bartender puts down his next glass of ale, and pushes the nuts closer to him, with a wary smile, Harry notices in his peripheral view a tall blond figure edging closer to him and turns around to see Draco in his work suit stepping up. In his fine tailored suit Draco looks nothing like how he looks on their usual Friday nights, and Harry feels yet another twist in his gut. What if he has destroyed what they have? Just because he wanted more? He can‘t imagine not talking with Draco about his week. It‘s a very nice habit by now, and Harry doesn‘t want to give it up.
"Didn‘t expect you to be here still," Draco says and glides onto his usual bar stool. "I was working late, forgot the time, you know," he goes on and drags a hand through his hair, refusing to look Harry into the eyes.
Harry takes a deep breath, trying to figure out what Draco is really saying. It‘s clear to him that Draco didn‘t forget the time. Draco's internal clock is sometimes more accurate than Harry‘s own watch. So Draco hadn‘t been sure if he wanted to come? Had he hoped he would miss Harry?
"My week isn‘t complete without you in it, so I waited and hoped," Harry answers and smiles softly.
In the end, Draco has shown up, that is all that counts for Harry.
"How is that child-" Draco stops himself and takes a deep breath. "How is Teddy doing?" he finally asks, his hand clamping down on each other.
"He is fine, all good. He is afraid of loud thunder, but doesn‘t tell me why," Harry answers and grabs one of Draco‘s hands.
"Might be his wolf hearing, picking up more than us," Draco muses and bites down on his lips. "Pansy says I‘m an idiot. Destroying what I wanted since I was a small, snotty schoolboy," Draco rolls his eyes, nodding at the bartender who sat down his usual Friday cocktail in front of him.
"She has a point more often than not," Harry advices and keeps smiling. This conversation is what he had hoped and wished for on Wednesday night. Well, part of it, but he had wanted it, some kind of knowing what is going on.
"Teddy-"
"Was afraid of a storm, and asked one uncomfortable question. But then I have heard that all children see their parents being intimate sooner or later" Harry shrugs and as Draco turns red next to him, he smirks, satisfied. So even the great Lucius Malfoy had not managed to escape his son's eyes. Interesting that.
"See my point. I think I was just lucky because seeing my aunt and uncle would have put me off sex forever. And that I have a cousin is proof that they did it sometimes." Harry shudders and laughs at the same time.
"Not funny, Potter," Draco whispers harshly.
"It is a little," Harry grins without feeling even remotely guilty.
"That child thought I was hurting you. He will hate me if he ever sees me again," Draco says and removes his hand from Harry‘s touch, to fold his arms over his chest.
"There are ways around that," Harry tries to reassure.
"We could have a meatball dinner, and you bring a nice chocolate cake and some lovely sweets and he will adore you. And you are his blood family, maybe you can tell him a little bit about the noble and most ancient house of Black?" Harry moves his thigh to nudge Draco‘s.
"I‘m not sure he would really like to hear about them. Malfoy‘s are bad but they at least tried to hide it. The Blacks, they liked to be known for the stuff they did," he still sounds vary.
"Draco?" Harry asks and touches Draco‘s face, to make him look at Harry.
"No expectations, you don‘t have to meet him tonight. To be honest I would prefer for you not to meet him tonight," he says, his tone very sincere, until it becomes flirty without his consent.
"Really? So tonight you have other plans?" Draco leans in, his hand finding Harry‘s thigh underneath the table.
"Might have," Harry has to fight his happy smile as he sees Draco finally relaxing.
"Oh? And am I part of those plans?" And there is that tone, that makes Harry‘s body ache. The low, taunting words already having a direct link to his libido.
"I might know a location where your plans won‘t be interrupted by sudden child appearances," Draco speaks against his lips.
Harry has to swallow. How does Draco do that? Just with his voice, his gestures and those damn silver eyes that flash ever so promising in the dimmed, moving lights of the club.
'It‘s because it's Draco, of course, and he has wrapped you around his little finger,‘ his inner Pansy supplies, like he believes the real one would do too.
"I would like to see that location very much," Harry answers in a very hoarse voice.
"So you shall." Draco moves away, which makes Harry groan in disappointment, and slides from his seat.
In his fear of being left behind- it has after all happened before, and Harry was lucky to have known Draco‘s favourite hotel room- Harry also leaves his seat quite hastily, only to come face to face with Draco. He looks ever so slightly up, into those daring eyes and smiles just because.
"I will need time for the whole Teddy thing, but when it comes to us, I‘m more than comfortable with more than just Friday nights. I also understand that you and Teddy are a package," Draco states, and Harry‘s heart races.
"All in good time," he replies, and slings his hands around Draco‘s neck. "And I think now is a perfect time to finally show me where you live, secretive bastard" he teases, like they do nearly every Friday night.
"Not a bastard, my parents were married before I was even conceived. You don‘t see me for two days and all your word definitions are mixed up again," Draco smiles and leans in a little more. "And it's not like you invited me over before Wednesday night," he goes on with a weird undertone Harry is not sure he understands. Could it be that Draco has been waiting for Harry to invite him over? Nah, that can‘t be it... can it?
"Draco?" he says and shakes his head ever so slightly their lips nearly touching, but still not really touching. "Take me home, and then I want you to kiss me. Always making me wait," he says and hopes it comes across as demanding and not as begging.
"You only had to ask," Draco says, and walks him out of the club, and apparates them away.