A/N: So, before I let you read this Drarry inspired by the goddess Ellie Goulding song "This Love (Will Be Your Downfall)", I need to say that this is a gift fic. My best and most loyal reviewer, Alijandra's Editor, had a birthday and she wanted a gift. I do requests, by the way... Anyway, she asked for a semi-specific idea for the plot, and this is what I ended up with! I plan to post one more chapter afterwards (whenever I get to it), and maybe more after that. We will see! Please enjoy and make sure to review!
When he had started this, Draco Malfoy had been so sure that this was the path he wanted to be on. Being an Auror was the only thing that would remedy his sins. He could do such good this way.
Over a year into the training, he was swiftly changing his mind. Before leaving that morning, he had counted all of his injuries. Two bruises on his right arm, one marring his faded Dark Mark on his left, a smattering of them on his chest, and a few that were fading upon his legs. There was a cut that ran the length of his forehead along with a nearly critical gash down his back. It hurt to move his shoulders at this point, but they weren't allowed to use healing elements of any kind throughout this process. The most noticeable of his resulting list was the purple ring around his right eye. This was yesterday's battle wound, the result of a strong elbow to the face.
The last two weeks had been all about dealing with actual delinquents. Hands on experience. In the orientation meeting detailing what they were to expect, this had been the word used to describe the wizards they would be disposing of. The actual reality couldn't even come close to that mild word. The men they had dealt with thus far were vicious psychopaths given the permission to do whatever it took to try and escape their scenarios.
Draco's charge the day previous was by far not even the worst. He was a grizzly man with a wild beard, which he could apparently hide straight razors within. The instant he had been faced with the possibly of getting his neck sliced open, Draco had backed off completely. He had let go, took a step back, and held his hands up in surrender. He wasn't willing to die for this job.
"Get back in there, Malfoy," Hawkes Hawlish snapped at him, observing from his haughty perch across the room. His eagle eyes never missed a thing.
"The man has a weapon!" Draco had said back, taking another step away in order to put ample distance between them. "They aren't supposed to have weapons!"
Sighing angrily, the man pulled himself down from his seat. He hated getting up to scold, but he was still so good at it. He shuffled between all of the other trainees, struggling with their own, smaller problems with their charges. His footsteps halted halfway between the blonde man and the bearded maniac, holding his wand for protection. "Do you think in the real world, out there, that they won't have weapons when you attempt to detain them? Do you think they might have some way of defending themselves? Granted, a few are idiots, but even idiots know how to protect their lives."
Draco swallowed hard and shook his head slowly. He was being a little ridiculous, but fear did that to a person. "This isn't the real world. I'm still training with how to deal with this situation."
"So deal with it."
Hawlish was not a kind man. He wasn't forgiving or lenient in any way, shape, or form. His words were always short and to the point, making not a single apology for what he said at any point in time. So when he told a trainee to deal with something, that wasn't a command to take lightly. One should listen and do as he says, or he might not end up with this job he'd worked so hard to achieve that far.
This was why Draco stepped back towards the man. His wand was held up, but he wasn't even sure if he could make a move fast enough for it to be of any use. "S-sir…." He cleared his throat, an embarrassed flush coming to his cheeks at the lack of resolve in his voice. "Sir, I will only ask you once to surrender your razor. If you do not comply, I will use brute force in order to remove it from your possession."
The man, of course, responded with the kind act of spitting upon the younger man's rather expensive, rather new shoes.
Draco felt like the entire training room was watching him. He was sure they weren't. They all had better things to do than watch Draco Malfoy fail miserably. Didn't they? His hands shook as he gripped his wand, taking in deep breaths to try and steady his resolve. Why was this such a difficult decision? He'd faced worse threats during the war, hadn't he?
I blocked out all of those faces. I blocked out every death I may have caused.
It was as simple as doing just that. Blocking out all of those watching him, even Hawlish standing by so predatorily. His steps to close the distance were sure and dangerous, but that wouldn't faze this man. He didn't have much left to live for, anyway, with his sentence in Azkaban. He stood at the ready as the other advanced upon him, his razor poised just right to be able to do great damage.
And then there was nothing but a flash of the man's dirty clothing as he lunged. Draco was scared – more scared than he could ever remember being. He could even recall a strangled scream as the elbow hit his eye and he hit the ground.
Why had it only been an elbow, not the razor?
Holding his eye, Draco looked over to his charge now lying at his side. He was completely unconscious and the razor he'd had was now clinging in someone's hand above him.
Harry Bloody Potter.
"Y'alright there, Malfoy?" the man asked, his dark hair coming down to shield his vibrant green eyes as he leaned down with an inviting hand.
When had his hair gotten that long? When had he become so attractive? When had he started to notice or care?
"I'm…fine…," Draco whispered, his whole face and neck enveloped in a dark blush. He took the hand offered, but wouldn't meet his eyes. He was thoroughly embarrassed that he couldn't handle his own. That this man had to save him…again. Would he ever stop needing his help? "Thank you."
Potter nodded, giving off that annoyingly genuine smile he gave everyone. This was nothing but a normal act for the hero. Saving people was something he did on a daily basis. It was an obligation for him. "Can I have my hand back, then?" he asked softly, making sure no one else heard as he tried to meet those cautiously sealed-off steely eyes.
If it was even possible, Draco's face reddened even further. He made a soft sputtering noise, looking down at their still-grasped hands. He hadn't even noticed he was still holding onto the other with an unrivaled death-grip. Slowly, he loosened his fingers from around the calloused skin. "Sorry," he said quickly and took a few steps back. He stopped just short of tripping over the unconscious convict and refused to raise his eyes from the floor.
Draco had excused himself from training for the rest of the day, saying he felt ill. He was absolutely sure they would all gossip about him, saying he was a coward and the like, but he didn't care at the moment. He just….needed out. He needed to walk away from Hawlish's taunts and Potter's heroism and his own fear.
Today, however, he wasn't feeling any better. He felt physically ill at the thought of returning. His footsteps were light and unsure as he walked through the ministry to their training rooms. He just didn't want to see the way they all looked at him today….
"Malfoy!"
The instant he walked into the room they always met up in, Draco heard the shout. He cringed, feeling like he needed to protect himself from something. It was perfectly innocent, and yet…. He looked up for the source and found Potter waving him over. He frowned, checking behind him to make sure he was seeing things right. Maybe someone else had said his name. Maybe Potter was waving to the Weasel boy.
But, no. He was alone in the doorway. He cleared his throat, sticking his hands in his peacoat and started to cross the distance between them. It wasn't far, but he felt like he walked eons to just stand in front of this man. And once he was there, it still felt like he was miles away from him. He wasn't worthy of being so close.
Harry Potter was supposed to be an Auror. Everyone assumed that's what he would do after the war. He was practically the epitome of this position before he even left Hogwarts. He was a perfect savior who could do no wrong. That and he was top of the current group of trainees.
He could do no wrong.
So what did he want with Draco? Why would he want to be seen with the lowest of the trainees? The one not confident enough in his career choice to excel?
"Yes, Potter?" he asked, shaking hands clenched firmly in his pockets. He couldn't let off just how nervous he was to be standing this close to him.
Smiling brilliantly, Potter nodded towards a black board in the corner of the room. Written upon it were two names per line with a dash and a location. The first line very plainly read 'Potter/Malfoy – Hogsmeade'. Frowning, Draco looked back to the other man and clenched his fists even tighter. "Looks like we're working together today, Malfoy."
"Oh," was all Draco could say as he once again averted his eyes to the floor. Since he hadn't stayed yesterday, he had no idea what they were doing today. But it did seem he was going to be alone with this man…. And that terrified him, even though he had no idea why.
Thankfully, he wasn't left wondering for long. Hawlish appeared shortly thereafter, slamming the door shut behind him to command attention. "Listen up!" he practically yelled to the twelve individuals standing with their partners around the room. "As I said yesterday, today we are testing your ability to 'investigate'!" He looked around at everyone, meeting their eyes one-by-one and conveying just how little he expected from most. Draco was satisfied to see that he gave Weasley the same look he himself received.
"Clues have been hidden among your locations to solve a fake crime ranging from simple magic misuse to murder. You will be expected to find and solve your clues as quickly and efficiently as possible. Once you think you have finished and come up with the right answer, you will report straight back here. Do not get side-tracked, your timing will be very important in regards to the training you have left.
"Now get going."
Slowly, as he was starting to feel a bit sick, Draco turned towards the Potter boy. Man, he caught himself thinking. He is…definitely a man. Boys don't hold themselves so proudly. They don't have that handsome confidence he always walks around with. "Suppose we should head out….," he said under his breath and tried to fold his hands deeper into his pockets. He could feel them shaking and he hated it. Why wouldn't they stop? Why was he so fucking nervous?
"Sure." Potter seemed not to notice. He merely turned away with his calm-as-shit grin and headed back out of the training area. They made their way towards the Ministry's atrium, neither saying a single word. Draco wouldn't have known what to even say if he had found the nerve to open his mouth.
It wasn't long before both men were nodding to one another before disapparating out of the Ministry. They landed side-by-side just inside the Hogsmeade gates, neither looking even a bit fatigued by the process. They were fairly good at it by now.
"Where do you s'pose we should start looking?" Potter asked, ever the ready hero. There was no doubt he would be good at this exercise.
If only Draco weren't there to slow him down. He wasn't always the most observant. Shrugging, he started off down the path, hardly looking up from the light October snow littering the pathway to the village. "Maybe…see if anyone's seen anything suspicious? We probably should find the crime we are supposed to solve first. Right?"
Nodding, Potter followed along right beside the blonde. He was so close he could feel heat coming off through his hideously green coat. "Right." They were still a good five minutes' walk from the village when factoring in the slightly icy pebbles under their feet. Minutes that would have been just fine in silence, but Potter wasn't that type of person, was he? "So…."
With a roll of his eyes, Draco looked up at the other man. He stood out quite well in this dim landscape. Where he himself faded into the falling snow and grey sky due to his deathly pale skin, Potter sort of lightened the area around him. He was like a little beacon with tanned skin and dark hair and green coat. He stopped looking him over the moment he noticed he was doing it and snapped his eyes right onto Potter's. They were this ungodly shade of green that sent a chill down his spine. Or was that the wind that suddenly picked up, tossing Potter's slightly-too-long hair into his face. Giving him this beautiful touseled look….
"What?" he snapped, tearing his eyes away and forcing himself to once again stare at the ground. He didn't like the thoughts suddenly filling his head. He didn't like that these weird feelings were aimed at Harry Potter of all people.
Yes, he was gay. He knew that very plainly after quite a few 'experiments' just to make sure. Much to his parents' dismay, he had absolutely no interest in providing them with a grandchild – an heir. But having those types of feelings for a man like Harry Potter was dangerous territory. Everyone knew of his relationship with the Weasley girl. And even if he had swung the other way, there was no way someone like Draco Malfoy had a chance! He wasn't…worthy enough. So it would be best not to even allow himself to notice the growing attraction.
The abrupt tone didn't even bother the other man. He laughed it off, clearly in a good mood. "I was just going to ask you…why you chose to become an Auror. I mean, we've been training together for…what? A year and three months, give or take a few days? You've never really shown a genuine interest for it."
Meaning, I'm not very good at it. I should give up…. Everyone knows it.
"So I'm just curious why."
They had reached the village now. It was quiet, being that it was a Wednesday morning. Teachers and students were in class. No one really visited Hogsmeade that didn't live here during the week. Factor in the slightly chilly, barely snowy weather and it didn't make for a popular destination. "Does it really matter?" Draco answered, biting back all of the smart-ass retorts he had lined up. He was trying to get better at communicating with people.
"A little," Potter said. "A person's motivation for their career choice could tell quite a bit about them. I just want to know…if you're still the same person I once knew."
Was I ever really a person that he knew?
Kicking a stone across the path, Draco raised his shoulders in a noncommittal gesture. The back of his neck was flushed, but he wouldn't allow the man to see that so was his entire face. He was embarrassed. His reasoning for becoming an Auror was his secret. It was a slightly deep and embarrassing gesture that he knew no one would ever understand. So why should he reveal those inner thoughts to someone so much unlike him? So perfect, like he wasn't?
"Look! That must be our crime!" Potter was pointing to a body lying upon the ground just outside of The Three Broomsticks. It wasn't a real body, of course. Just a dummy, a mannequin, set up to resemble a dead man.
The closer they got, the more Draco's curiosity piqued. He stared down at the unmoving figure that seemed to have just collapsed without reason. Biting his lip, he snuck a look up at his partner for the day. He seemed just as perplexed as he was. Of course they would give the man at the top of the group the most difficult case. Being assigned to his side was by no means a blessing.
"What are you thinking?"
Draco hunched his shoulders and lowered himself so he was seated precariously upon the backs of his shins. He pulled his wand out, but wasn't sure exactly what for. He didn't have a clue where to start with this. "It's obviously complicated if we can't really determine what killed him." He ran his fingers over the hard, cold plastic of the mannequin's arm. He wasn't wearing a coat…. Was that on purpose? His shoes were also missing. And he wore not a single piece of jewelry. Frowning, he reached over to pat all pockets of the 'man's trousers. No money – nothing. "He was robbed…possibly. What do you think?"
"I'm thinking that I already know what happened…so we should get a drink."
It was amazing how easily one sentence could irritate a man. Draco's brows knit firmly together and his fingers hardened around his wand. He was so cocky…. "Excuse me?" he snapped, able to glare up at Potter now without feeling any warmness towards him. "And how exactly is it that you know what happened just by being here two seconds?"
Never had Draco seen Potter so pleased with himself. He crossed his arms over his chest and stared down at the man with an unmovable satisfied grin. "Because Hawlish's assistant is extremely eager to please me." He said the words with an almost lascivious glint to his upturned lips. What exactly did that statement mean…?
Narrowing his eyes, Draco stood. His hands were on his hips and there was the utmost of defiant glints in the corner of his eye. "And why would he want to do that? To help you cheat your way to the top while some of slave to even stay in the program?"
For some reason, the sound of amusement that Potter made caused Draco's groin to twinge uncomfortably. His eyes widened, watching the other man step backward towards the Three Broomsticks. He looked extremely pleased with himself. "Um, no. It's actually because he was hoping my extra time would be spent bending him over his boss' desk."
For a long moment, Draco just stood there - stunned. His mouth was opened wide in complete shock, his arms falling rather gracelessly to his sides. Harry Potter isn't... There's no way. No. He just...he can't be.
Can he?
The fact that he was here and not there should have been enough proof. Harry Potter was not gay. If he was, he would be off with that scuzzy assistant. He wouldn't waste his time with Draco Malfoy, otherwise.
"And obviously his hopes were ill-placed," Draco resolved quietly, just loud enough for Potter to hear if he cared to listen. But not loud enough to hide his genuine interest. Why exactly was he holding out for a semblance of hope?
"Obviously." Giving a cryptic smirk, the man turned away completely and entered the pub.
Draco was left breathless. His heart was beating fast - faster than when Blaise had stolen his first kiss in fourth year after the Yule Ball. If that was even possible... He had no idea why he felt this way, though. There was no reason. Why should this particular man make him feel this excited?
He told himself he was going to forget all of that. He wasn't going to focus on the strange way he felt. Right now, he was just going to follow in the other man's footsteps and try not to think about…anything. Because there were a lot of things crossing his mind right now, and he'd prefer not to dwell on a single one of them.
"I was fairly certain you weren't going to follow."
Draco rolled his eyes as he took a seat beside from Potter at a booth. Just like the streets, the Three Broomsticks was desolate. There was a man passed out upon the bar and a sketchy-looking witch talking to herself at a table across the room. In addition, Madame Rosmerta was coming over to them to take their order. The clack of her boots upon the wood flooring was the only resounding sound in the entire pub.
"Just…just a pint. Please." Draco gave a very forced smile, not raising his eyes from the hands knotting themselves in his lap. He was nervous. Why am I nervous?
A hand closed over his, settling them and causing his eyes to widen. He looked sideways at the other man, unsure of just what to make of this. "Same for me," Potter said smugly and caressed the back of his hand with the pad of his thumb.
Rosmerta didn't give them a second look before nodding and walking away. Leaving them in incredibly awkward silence A silence that Draco was desperate to break, but had no idea how. What would he say? Would he question the gesture or the reason for a private drink? Would he ask what the other was playing at? Would he make a pointed comment about Potter's girlfriend? Or would he just pin this gorgeous man up against the wall and snog him in desperation?
The last possibility made Draco feel both the most pleased and the most uncomfortable of all the options. He squirmed upon the fabric seat covering and flexed his fingers just barely under the almost-ghostly touch.
"Is this bothering you?" Potter asked after Rosmerta brought their pints. He removed his hand to take ahold of his frosty glass, leaving the other's pale ones shaking. Upon his lips was a smile that sang of how pleased he was with himself? This must be some kind of game to him.
That's when it really clicked for Draco. He felt foolish for any bit of hope he'd held onto and shook his head vigorously. A generous gulp of his beer helped him gather the right words to use, as well as give him a small bit of courage. "Is it meant to? Do you find it entertaining to hold hands with your queer ex-rival? Does it give you a rush to try and make me feel awkward?" He turned just slightly to the brunette, leaning his arm upon the table and resting his head into his open hand.
He was desperate to play this right. There was no way he'd allow this prick to best him.
"Careful, your Slytherin is coming through," Potter said on a still-boisterous laugh. He wasn't fazed in the least. If anything, he was shining even brighter now. Apparently nothing ever got to him.
"Excuse me?"
Potter took his sweet time sipping at his mug, watching Draco with a hawk-like intensity. What was he trying to figure out? "You're overreacting. You're being dramatic. You're acting like an asshole and jumping to conclusions." His plastered-on grin seemed miles wider when paired with those words.
This man still wasn't making a lick of sense. "And...how am I supposed to be reacting...?"
"Like someone genuinely interesting is putting moves on you..."
It wasn't dignified or regal as someone of his upbringing should act, but Draco just couldn't help his loud, abrupt snort. The notion was preposterous! Potter putting the moves on him?! The only explanation was that this was a very sick joke. Haha, very funny…. "Harry Potter…." The man met his eyes without hesitance, briefly causing Draco to lose his train of thought. He caught himself quickly, though and shook his head. "You have a girlfriend. You are straight. You are the savior of the bloody world. Remember? This little trick won't work on me. I won't fall for it. I'm smarter than you may take me for. So…I suggest that you stop trying before my hand finds my wand. I do know quite a few nasty hexes that I'd love to use again…."
For the first time all day, Potter seemed shaken. Just slightly. His smile faltered for a second and he even scooted a few inches away from his partner. He even almost looked dejected behind those vibrant green eyes. "Oh…," he intoned simply and tried to act like he was completely focused on the glass he was eagerly downing. "You're quite stubborn, Draco…."
"As you pointed out, my Slytherin traits come through quite prevalently." A moment of silence stretched out after that one retort, even though Draco had quite a bit more to say. He'd realized exactly what it was Potter had said and something was wrong with it. He used my first name…. They had always called one another by their surnames. It was a way of letting people know, it seemed, that they were not on a friendly basis. So when had the other decided that it was acceptable for them to try and achieve that higher relationship? When had he figured they could be friends? When he'd accepted the invitation to drink? Or when he had saved his life a year and some months ago?
There were many instincts at this point that Draco knew he should follow. Something wasn't right with this situation. He either needed to leave…or put himself in a position of power. Take control of this conversation. That was the preferable option. Defiantly, he stood and crossed over to the other side of the table. He was now seated across from the other man rather than beside, able to make comfortable eye-contact if necessary. His eyes were icy and hard, not giving off any sense that he was lacking confidence. It was a front he hadn't needed to put on since leaving Hogwarts. But it was something he was comfortable doing. Like slipping into a second skin.
His wrist was ready to flick at a moment's notice to bring his wand out of its holster and into his hand. He was prepared to do whatever it took to protect himself, at this point. This feeling of being threatened trumped the stigma attached to attacking the Chosen One. Above all, he felt he had the right to feel safe. "I'm not playing this game with you, Potter," he threatened under his voice, drawing lines through the frost of his mug with his fingers. "Believe it or not, I am in this program to become an Auror. To do something meaningful with the life you felt you needed to save. I do not have time to sit here and wait for you to get to your punch line. Put your petty grudge behind you and find someone else to try and torment. I won't allow you or Weasley or whoever else to get a laugh out of my personal life. Do you understand?"
"Trust issues must also be a Slytherin trait, then?" was what Potter decided to come back with. He didn't have a snarky quip at being caught or an insult to throw. He just felt it necessary to question Draco's motives for being guarded. The brunette man still wore a smile, but it was gentler now. Like he was almost pitying his counterpart now. "I need you to understand something, Malfoy. Draco…. I need you to understand that I'm not trying to make you into a joke. Are you listening to me?" He leaned in over the table, no longer sitting even slightly on his seat. His face was mere inches away from Draco's – so close that he could get a good whiff of what he smelt like. Citrus and musk and coffee and…nicotine? "Is that I'm telling you coming through clear enough…?"
No…. Draco stared at the man in front of him, afraid to move because it may close more of the distance between them. And if that were to happen, he might lose all illusions of restraint. He might start to listen to his body as it yearned for this man he felt like he should never want. His breath ragged, Draco shook his head slowly back and forth. He wasn't sure just what he was denying, but he just felt like he should be screaming the word 'no' loud enough to shake his own haze.
Denying might have been the wrong way to go, however. Silence was the wrong option, as well. Both combined might have been what threw Potter over that edge to take his risk. It might have been what caused him to close the inches between them. It might have been what gave him the courage to knot his fingers in Draco's robes and pull him in closer. It might have been that last push needed to seal Potter's inner desire into a cemented yearning. It might have been why the man who shouldn't be remotely genuine towards him crushed their lips together in a desperate attempt at a kiss.
His eyes wide, Draco just…sat there. He wanted to move his hands, but he wasn't sure what he would do with them if he did. The most obvious choice would be to push Potter away. Get him off. But there was the remote possibility that he would tangle his fingers into that attractively untamable head of black hair. If he did that, there would be no going back. And he would most definitely end up hurt in the end.
And so he just…sat there…. His hands at his side, his mouth too scared to move or make a sound, his insides trembling with fear and anticipation. How long he was being kissed, he had no idea. It felt like hours, but it couldn't have been that long before Potter pulled back. He looked thoroughly let down. Good, Draco found himself thinking, but wasn't sure he actually meant it.
"That might have been the worst kiss I've ever experienced," the other man whispered while retaking his seat. His cheeks were flushed and he finally looked dejected. Which didn't bring as much joy to Draco as he'd thought before. "And Cho Chang was once practically sobbing when I snogged her so…. That says something…." Potter frowned down at the table, then desperately reached for his pint, finishing it quickly. He looked like he needed a reason to be moving. He must have needed something to focus on or maybe he would completely lose it.
Slowly, Draco sat back in his own seat, wishing he could just sink into the cloth covering. His mouth was dry and wordless and he just…stared at his hands. He couldn't move because he didn't know what he would do. Honestly, he was a bit in shock. Every single part of him was conflicting with another. His hands wanted to reached out and caress the other man's face, but his fingers were intent upon curling until they broke into his palms. His mouth felt like it had been scorched by the invading lips, but his tongue had a desire to taste that tanned skin. His head was screaming that something here was just wrong, but his heart beat loudly in his chest as it yearned towards the man their world loved.
"Maybe…. Maybe I should clear some things up…. Since you don't seem eager to say anything." Potter laughed nervously, fidgeting with his now empty glass. "I suppose it isn't all that unfair of you to assume that I'm still with Ginny. But I'm not. It's just not something…we made public. She doesn't want the world to know that she caught me kissing one of her brothers shortly after the war ended. Considering we were supposed to get married and all…." He smiled softly, almost like he was pitying himself. "So, the other thing you have wrong about me, is that I'm not in fact straight. Which means, overall, I'm not playing any sort of game with you. I do genuinely…find you attractive…."
This time Draco was too ashamed to even make a sound. He wanted to snort or make a derisive noise. He wanted the man to know just how weird this was making him feel. How conflicted. How naked…. And yet…this was someone he hated for years. How could he be that open with him? It felt way too weird.
"You don't have to say anything. Just because you're queer…doesn't mean that you have to be into me. I get that. We have pasts. History. Problems that maybe you don't think you could overcome. I just want you to know that we've been in the same training program for a little over a year and I've come to enjoy watching you…."
"Why?"
Potter laughed abruptly, shaking his head back and forth vigorously. "I don't even know!" he said a little too loudly, covering his mouth in shame. His cheeks were red – clearly he was embarrassed. How was it that Draco Malfoy of all people could bring the unshakable Harry Potter to blushes? "Look, Draco, I don't even know why you of all people are what I've fixated upon. Merlin knows I used to dislike you with my very core. But something about the passion with which you do your training…. It's mesmerizing. It's…sexy…." He shifted his shoulders, possibly in the form of a nervous tic. "Strong men are quite attractive."
His stomach turning from either revile or fear or…something, Draco watched the other man speak. Watched every move he made and tried to pick up any hint of a lie. There had to be one somewhere. This was all too surreal, after all. "So…what does this mean, exactly? What am I supposed to do with this…fucking stupid information?"
Draco watched Potter's fingers as they continued to glide over the condensation on his empty mug. For one second, he even managed to meet his eyes. The alcohol sat in them, making him look slightly more vulnerable than usual. "Basically?" Draco nodded just slightly. "Basically it means that I have decided to act on my crazy idea of wanting to push you up against a wall and fuck you until our legs give out…."
Against his will, Draco's groin gave a very uncomfortable twinge. The notion of what Potter suggested…. It sounded better than it should have. Why did that entice him so much? He was fairly sure he hated him. What was changing?
His throat dry, Draco made a point of completely looking away from the other man. He licked his lips, then brought his hand up to swipe across his mouth. This time he knew he had to say something. He had to force himself to make up his mind on what he even wanted with this situation.
"That sounds like a….very dangerous idea," the blonde whispered, glancing around the pub. Making sure no one was listening. Making sure no one could witness the point where he broke completely. "But…I might be willing to…go along with it. For one afternoon."
The world just froze. It was like the earth stopped turning, time stopped moving, Draco's body stopped needing air. All he needed was to stick to his conviction. He needed to get up and sneak walk off to the bathroom. Biting his lip, he looked over his shoulder on the way. Giving that man a look of utter lust. Begging him to follow with his eyes.
There was absolutely no reason behind his decision. He would regret what he was doing later. As soon as it was over, he knew that he would need to be alone. He would need a moment to break down and process. But for now…. This man called him passionate. He saw a reason for what he was doing by becoming an Auror. And right now that was all that mattered. He just couldn't think on anything else. If that made him an idiot, so be it. He could deal with it later.
"This is romantic," Potter commented after entering the restroom. He leaned against the door, watching Draco lean against the wall opposite. For a moment they just stared at one another, too ashamed to begin anything. To close that gap. To start down this unforgettable road.
And then Potter made his first move. The sound of a lock clicking into place resounded through the tile-covered room. Draco's eyes went wide as the man took steps towards him. "If you are lying to me about anything…I will make your life a living hell," was all he could get out before the man was doing just as he had admitted to wanting.
Draco's skull hit the incredibly solid wall, causing his head to swim as his eyes rolled back due to the sinful tongue on his neck. He let out an unrestrained moan, closing his eyes. This man – the one he was trying to forget the identity of in order to remain okay with his decision – had his hands everywhere. His motions were reeking of desperation and a long-stifled desire. How long had he been thinking about this?
"I'm not lying to you, Draco…," the man whispered through his kisses. This was just as he was pushing the blonde's t-shirt up over his chest. As his cold fingers grazed his nipples and brought along more noises that signaled he was coming undone. "I think you're beautiful…."
"Show me, then, Potter," Draco hissed. His opened his eyes, taking in a deep breath and deciding he should actively participate. Nervously, his hands found Potter's face, pulling it up to his. Their lips locked, their breaths synced, their bodies collided. It didn't take much after their tongues met for both men to come completely undone.
Both men had their pants around their ankles in no time. Draco was prepped. Potter was rock hard. Every move they made was simultaneous. And as the brunette pushed deep inside the blonde, it felt like they nearly became one person. Their thrusts and satisfied noises were absolutely synonymous.
Truthfully, it felt like two halves were finally meeting after years and years of searching in the dark.
"P-Potter…. Touch my cock…. Just…just touch me…," Draco begged, rocking eagerly upon the man's amazingly large member. He was ready to completely come undone.
"Like this?" Potter whispered, ghosting his fingers slick with Draco's own sweat over the swollen tip at his disposal. Immediately the man he was unearthly deep inside of threw his head back in a wild moan. He almost sounded like an animal in heat with that guttural sound. If it were possible, this spurred him on further. He shifted just slightly, pulling the legs around him tighter so that he could keep a good hold on his lover. And on the next good thrust he gave inside, the gorgeous God he was currently inside gave an extremely vulnerable screech of excitement.
Smiling, Potter leaned in to kiss the other's collar bone. Draco nodded eagerly, scrambling for a grip upon those strong, toned shoulders. "Y-yes…. Oh, f-fuck, Potter! There! Fucking right…there!" He repeatedly pulled his head up off the wall and slammed it back again, climbing further and further towards his orgasm with every pound to his prostate.
And, then, it was over. Just as Potter's fingers grazed harder over his cock again, enough to just be a touch, Draco found that he could no longer hold it in. His voice caught in his throat as he nearly screamed his release. The only thing that stopped the noise was the needy mouth upon his to distract him as his seed splashed over both of their robes. "Fuck he whispered, watching to reach for his wand and clean up. Wanting to remove this evidence so he could leave as soon as possible. Wanting to walk out of this room and think about what he'd done on his own.
He felt so dirty….
An indescribable heat filled Draco not but a minute later when Potter also found his release. He was suddenly well aware of their lacking use of protection. Closing his eyes, he allowed his head to thunk back against the tile one last time. His skin crawled and begged for a shower. If he left now, he could rush home before going back to the training center and pretending they had solved their case in a good amount of time. This was not how he had imagined things going when he'd enlisted in his program.
"I need to go…."
Frowning, like he'd just heard distressing news, Potter looked up from their still connected body parts to try and read Draco's face. Very slowly, the blonde opened his eyes and immediately felt guilty. The hurt in this man's eyes…. Why did he care so much if he left? Wasn't this supposed to just be some sort of one off?
"Right. Sure…." Putting on a smile, Potter gingerly used his admittedly impressive muscles to lift Draco off of his now-flaccid member and set him back down on the floor like a child. "Um…where are you going to…going to go…?"
Draco shrugged, blushing in deep shame as he pulled his trousers back up around his hips. He buttoned them in deep silence and tucked his shirt back in. The last thing he did was take a cleansing spell to his spunk. "Home. Have a shower…."
He didn't see it because he was avoiding looking at the man, but Draco could guess that Potter's deep sigh was drenched with sadness. He took a step back, also bringing himself to a more decent state of dress. "Well…we should meet back at the Ministry in an hour, then. I'll go pay our tab…don't worry about it. And I'll see you then?"
All Draco gave was a small nod in response. He didn't have anything else to say. Fear and loathing were gluing his throat closed. Even though he could feel Potter's fluids spilling out of him, he needed to just leave. He'd deal with the mess when he got home. Honestly, at this point he just needed to be somewhere he felt safe. He needed to sit and think and reflect on what he had just done.
But more importantly, who he'd done it with.
It was well over an hour later before Draco pulled himself out of the shower. By that time, it had long since turned cold, but he stayed in to wash up because he felt he deserved the freezing spray. His time before that had been spent in a drawn out haze of sobbing. It started as angry tears streaming down his face, but by the end he knew he'd progressed into tears of just absolute agony. Emptiness. Loneliness.
Draco's heart was breaking. He wasn't even sure why he felt this way. All he knew was that this encounter had somehow left him a shadow of a man. He could no longer stand for long periods of time. His breaths were rough and shallow. There was an ache somewhere between his sore buttocks and his constricted throat.
"He meant nothing. This meant nothing. Just…two coworkers letting off steam. His advances were…unwarranted. He might have just said those things to get some tail. Maybe Potter does things like that…."
In the end, Draco decided not to return to the Ministry. He was incredibly ashamed and felt it would be best to stay in his flat by himself than to envision everything they had done upon sight of the other man. Potter could make up whatever excuse he wanted – he honestly didn't care.
All he wanted was to curl up in bed with a pint of pistachio ice cream, a large mug full of Irished-coffee, and a book that could take his mind off of this mess. (The mess being his extremely conflicted feelings, of course.)
Draco's strategy was good for the night. It worked until he fell asleep with the book open upon his chest, the mug and carton of dessert completely licked clean. He even had a dreamless sleep, which was a welcome addition at that point. This was not the morning he wanted to wake up with memory-induced morning wood.
Feeling slightly better, he crawled out of bed and raked a few fingers through his chin-length hair. It was getting a bit long…. He wasn't bothering to slick it back anymore, as it wouldn't stay if he tried. Strands kept falling out and that wasn't distinguished in any respect. So, most days, he just allowed it to hang in his face. Allowed it to be there as a curtain to hide his emotions.
"Fucking hell," he whispered, taking a few steps away from the bed. Every single motion sent a shooting pain through his behind, reminding him just how long it had been since he'd received any action beyond drunk, misguided fondling.
Somehow, he managed to amble over to the bathroom. His entire apartment was like one big room - a studio with the entertaining space on a loft above. This was something he silently sent a blessing for right now, as he didn't have to walk far to get his potions or to the kitchen to get food to take them with. He sat heavily at the dining table, groaning loudly and taking an unwanted bite of his rather ripe banana.
Reminder, go grocery shopping…when I can walk.
Dressing after breakfast was even more difficult. If he wanted to make it to Auror training today, he needed to get ready and leave within fifteen minutes. But the potions also wouldn't kick in until around that time. So he put on his pants with extreme difficulty and almost decided not to wear socks. Or trousers. Or shoes. Basically anything that had to go on his lower half, he wished he could do without.
After dressing, Draco barely had enough time to clean his teeth or pull a brush through his hair before he needed to rush out the door. Literally, rushing was what he did. He opened the door, stepped outside quickly while turned around in order to lock it, his wallet shoved between his teeth for safe keeping as backed away and ran smack dab into someone.
"Shit, sorry," he apologized profusely after pulling the wallet out. He eagerly shoved it into his pocket and turned around to look at who he had nearly bowled over.
And immediately wished he'd stayed in bed.
"Oh, so you are alive!"
Potter. With his smug grin and his fucking messy hair and that perfectly put-on set of robes…. What the hell was he doing here? And how did he know where Draco lived…?
While averting his eyes, Draco took steps away towards his lift. And to his dismay, the other man followed. "What are you doing here?" he asked quietly, looking around. He didn't know why, but he didn't want to be seen by anyone with this man. Even if his building was all Muggles, as far as he knew. "And how did you get my address?"
As soon as they were in the lift, unfortunately there was nowhere to go to remain a space of ten feet between them. Draco felt suddenly claustrophobic. He stared directly down at his shoes after pressing the button for the first floor and tried to just shrink completely into himself.
"I asked Hawlish so I could make sure you weren't too ill." Potter, for his part, kept good distance. He remained leaning upon the opposite wall, arms braced upon the rail nonchalantly. As if walking through a man he used to loathe's apartment building was a routine operation. "And…I'm here to make sure you're alright. Also, to walk you to the Ministry."
"I'm apparating," Draco practically snapped, racing out the door as soon as it began to open on the ground floor.
Potter kept up quite well, putting that well-toned figure to good use. "Great, we can go together!" he called, grinning like the madman he just might be
"Stop following me!"
The footsteps behind Draco didn't even pause for a second. Potter followed him straight out the front door and down to the alley in which Draco used to apparate to work every morning. He was thankful for the potions he'd taken as they were the only way he could stay the few steps ahead that he was. The few steps that were making it possible for him to get away before Potter caught up.
Or could have made it possible if he hadn't tripped over his own feet and stumbled just slightly as he went down the alley. Swearing, he straightened up, but at this point he had already lost all ground he'd gained. Potter's hand closed around his arm just as he tried to scurry off, halting any motivation he'd had to run away.
"I don't know why you're avoiding me…. But I'd really like to know."
The question Draco didn't want to hear. Mostly because he didn't have an answer…. For just an instant, he looked up into the green eyes and was immediately hooked. In desperation, tried to look away, but found that he kept going back to them. And they begged for the truth that he hadn't even realized yet.
But that didn't stop him from blurting it out, apparently.
"You're not supposed to like me, Potter. You're not supposed to even look at me. I'm a peasant in comparison to your greatness – everyone knows it. I don't know why you're wasting your time on me. I don't know why you'd even bother to watch how I am during training. I'm just a fucked up Malfoy like the rest of my family. And what we did yesterday…you shouldn't want to even think about doing with me. Because I'm nothing. I'm shit. And you are an absolute god to our world. So…you should probably go back to the Weasley you snogged and put moves on him. He's probably more acceptable for you, anyway. And I'd prefer not to end up hurt."
Feeling exposed, Draco wrenched away his arm and crossed both over his chest. His cheeks darkened and his vision was once again blurring with tears. Everything he feared with any man better than himself was out on the table now. To Harry Potter of all people.
The man who was currently lifting his chin so they could look into one another's eyes. Why did his gaze look so genuine? "One…I want you to stop calling me 'Potter'. We're not petty teenagers anymore, Draco…call me 'Harry'. Okay?" Helpless to that kind look he was receiving, Draco nodded in agreement. Potter – Harry – grinned wider and moved his fingers from the man's chin and across his jaw. Gently cupping his face and giving him the gentlest of looks. Like he was something beautiful to behold. "Two…I want you to give me one night to prove myself. Do you understand?" Again, Draco nodded. "Tonight. Come to my place, I'll write down the address, and we will have a date. Just you and me. And if you still feel like you don't deserve my love…I'll leave you alone. Forever.
"Deal?"
Draco wished he knew how to say 'no' right then. He felt so vulnerable and open, like he really had no other choice. He wanted a choice…. But his heart had already made up his mind. "Deal," he whispered, his dark eyelashes coming down to kiss his cheeks. His eyes were closed, he didn't see the absolute glee his resignation brought the other man. But he could sort of feel it in the way he was sweetly kissed for just a moment before standing completely alone in the alley.
Like nothing had ever happened….
The only sign that Harry Potter had even been there was a small scrap of paper nestled into Draco Malfoy's palm. Written upon it was an address as well as a specified time. His lips still tingling, he carefully tucked the scrap into his pocket and gathered himself with a small smile. As nervous as was…. As absolutely terrified as this prospect made him feel….
He couldn't deny that this…thing they were doing felt right in his bones. And for him, it could either be all or end all. It could, and possibly would, be his downfall.