Title: A Flaw in My Heart's Design (3/4)

Author: icicle33

Rating: T

Pairings: Harry/Draco, Harry/OCs

Word Count: ~2000 in this part

Warnings/Content: Auror Partners, EWE, Pining Draco, Jealous Draco, Bisexual Harry, Playboy Harry, Humour, Angst with a Happy Ending

Summary: Several years after the war, Harry Potter is an Auror and a bit of playboy, much to everyone's surprise. Draco has the unfortunate luck of being his Auror partner. He still hates Potter. And he most definitely does not have a crush on his partner. Not even a little bit.

Author's Note: I apologise for only updating once this weekend. I have come down with a terrible flu and have barely been able to get out of bed. Thank you so much to everyone, who has read and reviewed the first two chapters. I appreciate the feedback so much.

Author's Note 2: Last week, I accidentally uploaded a chapter of one of my other stories, Harry Potter is a Soppy Git, instead of the second chapter of this story. I realized my mistake about a few hours later and uploaded the right chapter. However, if anyone is confused with this chapter, you might have read the wrong chapter 2. Everything is fixed now. I won't try uploading from my ipad again.


x o x o

Draco watched as Potter shrugged on his cloak and left their shared office. He didn't say a word and only acknowledged Draco's presence by a stiff nod before retiring for the weekend. Pretending he was engrossed in paperwork, Draco ignored him too. He was glad that Potter no longer pretended that they could stand each other. Forced politeness was tiring. He had enough of that with the rest of the Ministry. He didn't need it from his partner too.

Three weeks had passed since their fight. He'd barely spoken to Potter since that day. On Monday morning, he'd greeted Potter with a formal but terse apology. He explained he'd overreacted and wanted to forget the issue. Potter had agreed, but things had not been the same.

A chasm existed between them now, which only appeared to be growing by the day. At first Potter had attempted to mend the distance between them. He kept asking Draco to join him for lunch, for coffee, to go to the pub on Fridays. Seriously, what was up with Potter and that bloody pub?

At least it appeared he'd finally taken the hint. Draco had politely declined each offer. Since yesterday, Potter had not asked him any more questions that weren't related to their cases. Rather, they'd spent most of the day in an almost unbearable silence. But Draco knew he only had himself to blame. The delicate balance of their dynamic had been shattered, and Draco wasn't certain that it could ever be repaired.

He crossed a line. He knew it. And as much as it pained him, it was for the best. Eventually, Potter would get over it. He hoped. He didn't want to lose the only half competent Auror partner he'd ever been assigned.

Oh well, at least it was Friday. He had the rest of the weekend to wallow in his misery without having to worry about Potter and whatever tart he was screwing. He checked his watch. It was half past six. The office should have cleared out by now. Friday evenings at the pub were a thing of the past. Now, Draco had a new tradition of spending his Friday evenings in the gym. Really, he much preferred it this way. Spending extra time with Potter was unbearable. Yeah right. Maybe if he repeated it enough to himself, then one day he'd actually believe it.

x o x o

When Draco entered the gym, he was surprised to find it occupied. He saw a tall, shirtless figure in the corner and frowned. He'd spent several minutes organising his case files for the following week before heading out. It was now after seven. Why was anyone else here? Didn't the idiot know that this was Draco's workout time? And why wasn't he wearing a shirt? The gym was charmed with permanent cooling charms. There was no reason to be shirtless. Draco hated show-offs, especially since he could never remove his shirt or even wear short sleeves in public.

More than a little annoyed, he approached the unwelcome figure, ready to kick out whomever was stupid enough to get between Draco and his workout, but then he felt his breath hitch. His heart hammered in his chest and eyes widened once he recognised an all too familiar tanned, freckled back. Of course, of all people it had to be him: Harry Potter a.k.a The Bane of Draco's Existence. Salazar, why couldn't he ever catch a break?

Draco gulped and stood frozen with his mouth agape. He almost dropped his gym bag as he watched Potter in action, who had not noticed his presence yet. Potter cut an imposing figure. He was broad shouldered with a strong back and thick waist all golden tanned and sweaty. His biceps were larger than Draco had remembered and he wondered if Potter had been hitting the weight room in his down time. His oversized Auror robes did not do him justice. He could feel his face flush, heat rapidly spreading down his neck and all the way to his cock, which twitched as he drooled over his partner.

Granted, this wasn't the first time Draco had seen Potter without his shirt, but he'd never had an opportunity to study him so closely without being observed. Watching Potter slam the bag in front of him with heavy kicks — all shirtless, sexy, and sweaty — mesmerised him. It made him want to put that same breathless look on Potter's face. He wanted Potter to use those strong arms and legs to fuck him face down into a mattress until he forgot his name, to fuck his mouth until his throat was raw. Or maybe he could tie Potter up and watch him squirm as he struggled against unbreakable restraints, all while Draco did unspeakable acts with his tongue to that hard body. A slew of wicked fantasies swam through Draco's mind, all involving Potter naked, breathless, and flashing that brilliant grin. Merlin's beard, this was a dangerous line of thought.

He needed to relax before he did something embarrassing like rub up against Potter's naked back and start sucking on that delectable neck. His cock throbbed painfully against the waistband of trousers. He was thankful for not changing into his workout kit yet since this was getting out of hand. He needed to think of something else, anything else, before Potter turned around and realised he was a skeevy, drooling voyeur and punched him in the face.

Swallowing loudly, he closed his eyes and thought of the unsexiest images possible. McGonagall in lingerie. Goyle in a bathing suit. The one time he'd tried to have sex with Pansy and fainted when she asked him to eat her out. It seemed to work. Slowly, he regained his composure. His cock was only half-hard now, but his body still betrayed him as he dropped the gym bag he'd been clutching like a lifeline.

Within seconds, Potter stopped kicking the bag and turned around to face him. Draco knew he probably looked a fright. His mouth hung open in a wide 'O' and his cheeks were burning, streaked probably as red as awful Weasley hair. Sweat dripped down his forehead and his heart still beat much too fast. He was a far cry from the cool and collected Auror he always tried to portray as he hastily adjusted his robes. Yet, Potter didn't seem to care. He regarded Draco coolly but didn't mention his unusual state of disarray. Instead, he greeted him with an amused smile, his green eyes shining.

"Oi, Malfoy, I'm glad you're here. I was waiting for you."

Potter crossed his arms in front of his chest, making his biceps bulge. And Draco did not stare. He most definitely did not want to lick them. He gulped and then coughed in a vain attempt to clear his throat. His throat felt scratchy, but at least he'd recovered enough to speak.

"I wasn't aware we had plans."

Potter shrugged. "It's Friday."

He said nothing else and then stared at Draco like it was the most obvious answer in the world, and he was an arse for not understanding. Granted, Potter made him feel like an arse more times than Draco would care to admit, but this time he really was lost.

"And?"

"And—" Potter rolled his eyes. "On Fridays you go to the gym now, right?" A smug smile tugged on his lips. "I thought I'd join you. See what all the fuss is, yeah? Why you rather do this than go to the pub?"

"Join me?" Draco blinked rapidly in disbelief. "I don't recall extending an invitation."

Potter titled his head back and laughed. "Well, it's a good thing this is a public gym then. Any Auror is permitted to use it." His lips curled into a wicked grin. "Even after hours."

"I-I-" Draco was stunned. For the past two days, Potter had ignored him. He thought he'd finally decided to give up on him. Why was he doing this? Why was he so insistent on spending time with him anyway? And why did he have to be shirtless for Salazar's sake? It was impossible to think clearly when he had to stare at Potter's hard chest.

Potter continued to smile. "Great, if you have no more arguments, then go get changed. I can see why you like this, Malfoy," he said. "It's a great workout and such a rush. I feel almost dizzy."

"Me too."

"What was that?"

Bollocks. Draco didn't realise he'd actually said that aloud. Oh, fuck it all. It turned out that being in the presence of a shirtless Harry Potter turned his brain to complete mush. There was no way he would survive an entire workout session with what remained of his dignity intact.

"Nothing," he cried, more forcefully than necessary. "I don't think I'll change after all. I'm feeling…uh-tired all of a sudden."

Potter frowned. "Tired?"

"Yeah, I worked out yesterday too. And I'm still sore." He rubbed his shoulder and groaned, praying that Potter would buy his cheap excuse.

Potter didn't look convinced. He deepened his frown and then bit down on his bottom lip. Eventually, he said, "Alright, then that means you're free. Let me change and then we can go to the pub." He flashed that devastating grin, which Draco both equally despised and cherished. "First round is on me."

"Why are you so obsessed with going to the pub?"

"I dunno. I like the drinks. The chips." Potter shrugged, a sheepish look on his face. "The company's not so bad." He gave a weak smile. "So are we going?"

Potter had this ridiculous, expectant look on his face, which caused Draco's chest to ache. All he could do was sigh in response. He rubbed the temples of his throbbing forehead with his fingers. Merlin, Potter was exhausting. The stupid git didn't give up. Idiot Gryffindors. Closing his eyes, Draco sighed again. He felt his resolve waning, slipping away with the final remains of his dignity. He couldn't bear to look at Potter. He should have insisted that he put his shirt on right away. It was too late. One more Friday night at the pub with his slag of a partner, who wanted to shag everyone but him, could he really do this? He'd survived them before relatively unscathed. It wasn't like he had better plans anyway. His mind was made up.

"Fine," he grumbled. "But we're drinking Firewhisky tonight. And I want a private table. I don't want to deal with your adoring fans all night."

Potter laughed, emitting a bright, hearty chuckle that sprang from his belly and filled the room with warmth. "Whatever you say, Malfoy. I'll go change. Give me 10 minutes."

Draco nodded. He didn't trust himself to say anything else. He hoped that he wouldn't regret this decision in the morning.

TBC...


A/N: Thanks so much for reading! There is only one long chapter left, which I will post next week because I still have to make a few edits and feel too sick to work on it right now. The feedback on this fic has blown me away, especially since I have been away from this site for a long time. I really appreciate it and will always try my best to reply to all signed reviews.

Have a great week everyone!

Comments are love,

~Icicle