Title: A Proposition
Author: boiledpotato
Rating: NC-17

Warnings: PWP, explicit sex.
Summary: Harry's got a proposition for Draco.
A/N: I just… don't know. I forget about it for nearly a year, then half a pack of cigarettes and couple of gulps of vodka, here we are. Wehey.

Harry walked towards Draco. The aphrodisiac was working. Draco stared back at him in confusion. Nothing had been making sense. Harry had been more and more vulgar, more frontal, more wildly adventurous ever since that day he drove that Gryffindor Sword through the Dark Lord's heart.

And now, they were both in a raunchy nightclub in downtown London, about a month after the end of their seventh year. They recognized each other very well, and the severe dislike was still there (after fighting side by side, they could hardly hate each other) and yet neither could stop staring at the other.

Draco licked his lips nervously, causing Harry to stride forwards with more purpose. He could feel the warm air on his bare torso as he walked. His t-shirt was discarded somewhere on the street when he realized the necessary attire to enter the place. His hips swayed luxuriously, his legs wrapped in oh-so-tight leather trousers, accompanied with a studded black belt. But he ignored all the appreciative looks he was getting left, right and centre. He only had eyes for Draco.

The blond, on the other hand, was not under the influence of some ungodly concoction, other than a large quantity of fluorescent pink vodka. He was trying very hard to get his befuddled brain to figure out why Potter was looking so damn attractive, and why he couldn't seen to concentrate on anything other than those fabulous hips.

Harry finally reached Draco, and grabbed his pale, tattooed wrist, dragging him to the dance floor. Without having the chance to think about this, Draco was greeted with the sensation of Harry grinding his hips into him from behind. They moved to the techno beat, lost in each other, for what felt like hours, till Draco turned around and looked into the emerald eyes of his partner. He leaned forwards and dangled his arms over Harry's shoulders, pressing his forehead to the others'. He continued to sway his hips to the music, and Harry put his hands on the blond's waist. They moved closer with each song, never breaking their gaze.

Finally, when it seemed they could get no closer, Harry grabbed Draco's arm and dragged him outside. They were walking quickly, close together, and turned into an alleyway on the way to Harry's apartment, when Draco suddenly swung him around and pinned him against the wall. Harry looked a little shocked, but equally pleased. Draco brought his hand up to caress Harry's cheek, then up to his forehead, then moved up and flicked up the fringe to look at the scar with a small smirk, before running his slim fingers through the raven hair, finally grabbing a fistful tightly. He pulled on it, forcing Harry's head backwards and licking slowly, deliciously, all the way from his collarbone to behind his ear. Harry moaned loudly and grabbed Draco's pale arm again, dragging him down the alley at an even faster pace than before.

Harry fumbled with the lock, finally banging the door open, and Draco nearly jumped him, pinning him against the nearest wall. They kissed, but it wasn't gentle. Their first kiss was full of need, passion, lust, hunger and every forceful feeling that could ever be considered erotic. And boy, was it erotic.

Their tongues swirled together in a battle for dominance, Draco's hands coming up to run through Harry's hair and the other's scratching red marks down his pale back. The blond mumbled incoherently as those nails dragged along his skin.

The next second, Harry had thrown him onto the cheap bed, Draco's head bouncing up slightly. The raven-haired boy looked at his lover for a moment, taking in his vulnerable position: topless, sweaty, red streaks down his torso, lips swollen and platinum hair tousled, before Draco said, somewhat impatient, "Come the fuck on, Harry. I can't wait all bloody night."

Harry needed no further encouragement. He literally pounced on him, the other letting out a soft "Oof.", but he paid no attention, and instead focused his sincerely aroused brain on the pale expanse of flesh below him, sucking, licking and biting. He tasted of spice, of salt and sugar, of sweat and vanilla. Nothing like any of the other Draco look-alikes Harry had been with, who always left him with a soapy-like aftertaste of expensive cologne. He hated that. But this… this was one hundred percent Draco Malfoy, and he was clamped between Harry's legs, completely helpless.

Harry nearly came just at that thought.

But, restraining himself, he tasted every bit of flesh from Draco's neck to the beginning of those delectable trousers, only dedicating a few moments to both nipples.

Draco, on the other hand, was having a lot more trouble restraining himself. By the time Harry actually reached his trousers, he was squirming and whimpering, begging for more.

Harry complied, with pleasure. He reached down and undid the buckle on Draco's studded belt, whipping it off quickly, sending Draco's hips into the air. Then, with one hand supporting his weight on the bed next to Draco's as he leaned over, he worked open the button and zipper on the trouser and whipped them off, throwing them somewhere over his shoulder. He then looked down at Draco's bare crotch and back up to look at the blushing blond in the eye, eyebrow raised.

"No underwear?"

"Didn't fit."

"No wonder, those trousers were so damn tight."

"Are you complaining?"

"God no."

"Good. You're overdressed."

With that remark, Draco leaned up, ripping off Harry's belt much in the same way as his had been moments previously and threw it across the room, somewhat violently.

Harry smiled like a predator, and felt his cock twitch in response, tenting those delectable trousers. Draco reached up and pulled down the zipper slowly, his face to Harry's crotch. But this wasn't fat enough. Harry helped him, tugging the trouser all he way down and kicking them off violently. Before he could even take a breath, he felt a slick, hot tongue run up the underside of his erection, before he was fully engulfed in that gorgeous, pouting mouth. Gasping with pleasure, Harry's hands flew to Draco's hair, and he looked down.

Draco was sucking him, hard and fast, swirling his tongue around his cock and back up, bobbing his head. Is eyes, on the other hard, were firmly fixed on Harry's, holing him in an unwavering gaze that took Harry's breath away.

In fear of coming, Harry moved his hands down to Draco's shoulders and pushed him off roughly, Draco's mouth detaching from his hardness with a slurping sound. He fell backwards onto the bad, and Harry climbed on top of him again, now both naked, and ground his hi into Draco's. They both bit back a moan, and they thrusted evenly and desperately.

Forcing himself to stop, Harry reached over somewhere behind Draco and came back with a pot of lube, dipping is fingers in and slicking up his fingers. He flipped Draco over harshly, and slipped a finger inside the writhing body below him. Draco let out a hiss of pleasure (there was certainly no pain; this was by no means his first time) and then moaned loudly as another finger was added, before finally a third. He thrust backwards into the pleasure, and Harry watched, his erection become almost painfully hard at the sight below him. Finally, he replaced his fingers with his own cock, thrusting in slowly, delightfully.

"Fuck Draco… you're so… so tight." Harry moaned. Leaning down into his shoulder and pressing hot, wet kisses wherever he could reach. He pushed himself in slowly, right the way in, before pulling himself nearly all the way out and back in, Hard.

Draco's howl was loud enough to wake the entire building, and they continued to move together, at a rhythm that was both desperate and mesmerisingly energetic, before they both neared their climaxes. Harry reached round under Draco and began pumping his cock in time with his thrusts, and it wasn't long before he felt hot, sticky seed on his hand and the bed in front of him. He thrust again once, before he too filled Draco, and there was a pause, a moment in time where nothing moved, nothing happened. Time itself stopped, as they both rode their waves of ecstasy. Finally, Harry collapsed onto the paler boy's back and they fell over, side by side.

Harry pulled himself out, and he rolled over, Draco doing the same, till they were both on their backs staring at the ceiling. IT had been an almost silent fuck, passionate shag that had left no time for words.

A moment later, Draco spoke. "Fucking hell."

"I couldn't agree more."

"Where... where did that come from?" Draco asked, still panting heavily.

"Two long-repressed libidos through years and years of sexual frustration, I believe," Harry replied, almost smugly, had he not been completely out of breath as well.

"Well. Whatever it was," Draco cleared his throat. "It was amazing, we should do this more often."

"Sure. Why don't we make it a permanent thing? I hear you have nowhere to stay in London at the moment."

Draco smiled, a real, genuine smile, and turned to Harry. He gasped at the look of sincerity in those emerald eyes, before then climbing on top of him, kissing him hard.

"Why Potter, are you propositioning me? Asking me to move in after one night?"

"Ten minutes, I think." Harry replied matter-of-factly. "And yes, yes I am."

"Good." Draco leaned down and kissed him, hard and wet, full of promises and lust.

"I'll take that as a yes, then."

"You should."