Harry shuts the door of his flat behind him and leans against it, his mind reviewing the past few hours. His date with Markus had been… nice. No passion or real connection, just… nice. Harry sighs and pushes off of the door, making his way to the kitchen to make a cup of tea, suddenly feeling worn out.

He knows there's no real future with Markus, even as just a booty call candidate. The boy is cute but obviously looking for more than just a fling.

Harry leans against the counter as he waits for the kettle to boil, his hands buried deep in his jeans pockets. His mind wanders back to the chaste kiss he shared with Markus at the end of their date. The vile after-effect of his kiss with Malfoy was still in place but definitely not as bad as it had been.

Harry shakes his head with a reluctant smile; knowing that his veela would be so pleased if he knew that his kiss had put Harry off sexual activity.

Harry blinks. Did he just think of Malfoy as 'his veela'?

The whistle of the kettle pulls Harry out of his troubled thoughts. He quickly lifts it from the stove-top and goes about pouring some of the hot water into a large mug with one teabag before heading over to the overstuffed couch and sitting down.

He blows on the steaming drink as he idly flips on the telly, not really paying attention to it as he mulls over his new relationship with Malfoy.

Harry frowns and wonders for the hundredth time if his acceptance of Malfoy's offer of friendship is a good idea. He shifts uneasily in his seat as the term 'mate' floats through his jumbled thoughts. Malfoy had said that he could never force himself on Harry but will the relationship create some sort of unavoidable pull towards Malfoy? Will Harry find himself being caught up in the allure of the veela?

That kiss…

Harry shakes his head and quickly takes a few sips of his tea.

And how will Malfoy react every time Harry has another lover? Will he have to carefully schedule his time so as to keep his sex life a secret from his new friend?

Harry turns off the television and picks up his mobile, taking another sip of tea as he calls Malfoy.

He picks up on the first ring. "Harry? Everything alright?"

Harry blinks at the concern in the Slytherin's voice. "Yeah, why do you ask?"

"Because it's nearly midnight," the blond replies dryly.

Harry's gaze darts to the clock on the wall and he gapes in surprise. "Sorry, I didn't even notice the time," Harry says apologetically. "I can talk to you tomorrow; I know you're probably an early riser…"

"I'm awake now Potter so you might as well say whatever it is you called to say."

Harry can hear the amusement in the other man's voice so he relaxes back into the couch. "I just thought you might like to know that I've finally decided on a career."

"Oh?"

"Yes, I thought maybe something along the lines of children's welfare worker," Harry says, suddenly feeling inexplicably shy.

There's a pause on the other end of the line then, "what made you choose that?"

Harry swirls the last of his tea in his mug. "Dunno," he shrugs, not feeling like getting into his messed up childhood with Malfoy over the phone.

"Hmm…" Malfoy hums noncommittally.

"Anyway…" Harry shifts, feeling awkward again. "I'm going to start researching the job a little more, and then I suppose start applying to some local colleges."

"I'm impressed."

Harry's not sure why but he feels a little glow of pride at Malfoy's words. "Yeah well, it was either get a job or listen to you grumble about my direction-less life," he quips.

Draco's chuckle reverberates down the line causing Harry to grin. "Glad to hear that my grumbling motivates you Potter."

Harry laughs. "Yeah well, don't feel too superior about it will you?"

Draco chuckles again. "I'm glad you called Harry," he says after a pause, smile evident in his voice. "I'm pleased that I didn't scare you off over the last few days."

"Me too," Harry admits, feeling that little glow of pleasure again. "Don't make too much of this Malfoy but… it's kind of nice having a friend again."

"It's rather a new experience for me as well," Draco confesses. "I don't believe I've ever had the simple pleasure of having someone call just to tell me what's going on in their life. It's so…"

"Comforting?" Harry supplies, searching his own feelings on the subject.

"Yes," Draco concurs.

"Well… I guess I'll let you get some sleep now," Harry finally says, standing and carrying his empty cup to the kitchen.

"Harry?"

"Yeah?" Harry replies distractedly, rinsing out his mug.

"May I see you tomorrow?"

Harry straightens up, feeling a slight flash of panic. "Uh…"

"I have a business trip planned for the next two weeks," Draco quickly explains. "I leave tomorrow night and I thought… I would like…"

Harry smiles, enjoying having cool, composed Malfoy flustered. "You want to get your Harry fix before you go?"

"In a manner of speaking, yes," Draco replies with a mixture of amusement and reluctant honesty.

"Yeah okay Malfoy," Harry says, walking off towards his bedroom. "How about we meet for lunch? I'll come to your office around noon."

"I'll see you then Harry."

And the line goes dead.

Harry stares at his phone a moment before shaking his head with a grin.

. . . .

Harry stares out the window of his flat, a frown marring his young face as he looks out at the busy city streets; a feeling of restlessness consuming him like never before, a feeling that has progressively gotten worse over the past two weeks.

He desperately wants to chalk it up to the fact that he hasn't gotten laid in a very long time but another part of him knows that it could just as easily be the fact that Malfoy has been out of the country for exactly two weeks.

He runs an agitated hand through his dark hair and sighs in frustration.

This friendship with Malfoy isn't supposed to affect him; it's just supposed to alleviate the blond's discomfort.

"Fuck," Harry swears under his breath, angrily turning away from the window and striding into his kitchen. He snatches his mobile phone from the kitchen counter and stabs at the screen.

"Harry?" Markus' voice answers questioningly.

"Yeah, you busy?" Harry asks, trying to not sound snappish and failing miserably.

"You alright?"

"Yeah, just feeling…restless," Harry replies, carefully smoothing his voice and injecting just a hint of flirtation.

"Oh… what did you have in mind?"

Harry smiles in satisfaction at the blatant interest in the other man's voice. "Want to come over and watch a movie?"

"Yeah alright, what time?"

"Now?" Harry suggests, holding his breath.

"I'll be right over."

"Great!" Harry exhales in relief and hangs up, tossing his phone back on the counter. He waits for any feeling of guilt or remorse to wash over him but nothing comes, nothing but the excitement at the prospect of some good hot sex.

The only guilt he feels is the guilt over using Markus like this. The poor boy desperately wants something more but is so infatuated that he'll take one night stands if that's all Harry is offering.

Harry smirks. As bad as he feels, it sure is nice having sex on speed dial.

. . . .

Harry wakes with a start, the early morning sun filtering in through the window and causing him to squint blearily around his room. He blinks and suddenly realises that his phone is ringing from the pocket of his discarded jeans on the floor next to him.

Without thinking he reaches down and grabs it. "Hello?" he rasps, flopping back onto his pillow and closing his eyes.

"Good morning Harry."

Harry frowns at the familiar voice. "Malfoy?"

"Yes, how are you?" he asks warmly.

Harry blinks his eyes open in surprise at the cheerful tone. "I'm uh… good. Why are you calling so early?"

"I just got back into town this morning and thought I'd give you a call, see how you're doing with your career research."

"Harry?"

Harry jumps and drops his phone to the floor. "Shit!" he swears scooping his mobile back up and turning to stare at Markus lying naked in bed next to him.

"Morning baby," Markus purrs, stretching languidly.

Harry's eyes widen and he quickly clamps his phone to his chest to muffle the sound. "Erm… morning. Excuse me for a… a sec."

Harry practically leaps out of bed and runs into the hall. "Malfoy?" he says into the phone as he shuts the door behind him.

He's met by the cold sound of the dial tone.

"Bloody hell," Harry utters wearily as he switches his phone off. Not even seven o'clock and already he's having a shit day.

When did he even invite Markus to stay the night? That should not have happened.

He takes a deep breath before walking back into his bedroom. "Er… hey Markus," he says, forcing a smile as he collects his clothes from last night and begins to dress.

"Aw… you getting dressed?" Markus pouts. "I was hoping for round three."

Harry hides his grimace as he throws a dark blue t-shirt on over his head. "Sorry, I gotta go. Forgot about, erm… an appointment. You can see yourself out right?"

"Sure baby," Markus says with an easy smile, propping his head on his hand as he watches Harry wiggle into his jeans.

Harry rolls his eyes as he turns and heads for the door. He hates sweet pet names with a passion.

Harry quickly grabs his wallet, keys, and a light jumper from the front hall before exiting his flat and travelling down in the lift to the street. He breathes a sigh of relief as he pushes through the heavy doors and into the fresh air. The morning is making him feel smothered and torn in too many directions all at once.

Harry frowns and stuffs his hands in his pockets as he jogs down the front steps of his building and begins to stride along the footpath.

This is why he doesn't do relationships; he doesn't want the responsibility of another person's happiness and he doesn't want to do messy emotions or hurt feelings or feelings

Harry presses his lips together and feels anger bubble up inside of him. This is all Malfoy's fault.

He quickly hails a cab and directs the driver to Malfoy's home, hoping that the blond hasn't gone to work yet. Knowing what the veela overheard this morning, he doesn't think that Malfoy will be in any fit state to be in public.

Harry quickly pays the driver then walks up to the pale yellow door of Malfoy's luxurious brownstone and rings the bell.

After a minute of waiting Harry leans on the bell again, listening to it chime noisily on the other side of the door.

Harry takes a step back as he finally hears footsteps approaching from within. For some reason he worries that Malfoy might be slightly volatile.

Draco opens the door a crack and peers out, looking strained. "What are you doing here Harry?" he asks quietly.

Harry opens his mouth to speak, ready to erupt, to spit out all the anger and resentment he's been feeling all morning at the man who is the main source of it all. But as he looks into Malfoy's face the words die on his lips. It's obvious that the blond is not angry or jealous - he is quite simply devastated.

Harry closes his mouth and swallows, unsure how to proceed now. "Can I come in?" he finally asks.

Draco blinks in surprise and steps back, holding the door open without a word.

Harry walks in and waits as Malfoy shuts the door, then follows him up the stairs to his immaculate all-white lounge room. Harry quickly takes a seat in the white leather chair by the fireplace and waits.

Draco remains standing by the top of the stairs, watching him uneasily with his arms wrapped around himself, looking uncharacteristically lost.

"Malfoy…" Harry says hesitantly then stops. "How are you?" he asks, realising that he should probably start with that.

Draco gazes at him a moment before finally taking a seat, perching on the edge of the chair across from Harry, body fraught with tension. "I'm… better, now that you're here."

Harry nods. "I… I'm sorry that you overheard that this morning." He stops and runs a hand through his hair, looking away from Malfoy's pained expression. "But I'm not sorry that I slept with someone. Fuck Malfoy, what am I supposed to do?" He turns back to the blond, starting to feel some of his earlier irritation return. "How is this friendship supposed to work if I have to tiptoe around? I won't do that again, it's fucking stressful."

"Again?" Draco catches.

Harry shakes his head. "I didn't mean again," he retorts. "I just meant that… that… I don't need this in my life. I like simple. I don't like messy emotions or worrying about people getting hurt."

Draco watches him closely.

"What?" Harry snaps.

"Are you saying you want to finish our little arrangement?"

Harry sighs and leans forward, resting his head in his hands. "I don't know what I want - or even what I'm saying…" he replies, defeated.

"How can I help?" Draco asks keenly.

Harry finally raises his head with a wry smile. "Stop calling me on a Saturday morning."

Draco suddenly blanches, causing Harry to chuckle.

"I don't usually let my, er… partners stay the night," Harry offers.

Draco swallows and sits back. "That doesn't make it any better Potter."

Harry's lips twitch and he starts to chuckle, then his chuckles turn into full-on laughter. "Sorry Malfoy, but this is pretty fucking funny."

"You wouldn't think so if you were the veela," Draco replies without humour, but then his lips twitch into a reluctant smile as Harry continues to laugh, green eyes sparkling with amusement.

"What?" Harry asks with a grin, noting the change in Draco's expression.

Draco smiles and shakes his head. "Nothing."

"No what?"

"You wouldn't like it if I told you."

"Try me," Harry challenges, still grinning.

"You're beautiful when you laugh," Draco replies candidly.

Harry flushes and he immediately breaks eye contact.

"See?" Draco says with a smile.

Harry looks up and rubs one hand over the back of his neck, cheeks still slightly pink. "Yeah well, I don't go in for all that romantic nonsense."

Draco cocks his head to one side, still smiling. "Why is that Harry?"

Harry's smile instantly vanishes. "No reason, I've just never thought it was necessary. It's not real."

Draco's blond brows rise in surprise. "What do you mean it's not real? You don't think people can say something sweet and be honest at the same time?"

"No not really." Harry shrugs.

"I wasn't lying when I said you looked beautiful when you laughed," Draco instantly challenges.

"Yeah but you have to think that because I'm your mate," Harry replies scornfully.

Draco's eyes narrow but he doesn't say anything.

"Anyway," Harry says suddenly, getting to his feet. "I should go. I just wanted to make sure that you weren't in here slitting your wrists over Markus."

Draco also stands, jaw clenching in anger at the mention of Markus' name.

Harry walks over to the stairs and pauses. "Also, I just wanted to let you know that I'll try to keep that side of my life hidden from you, I know it bothers you. A lot. Maybe just wait for me to call you in the future? And I'll try not to pick up when I'm… indisposed," Harry continues succinctly.

Draco frowns as Harry flashes him a quick smile before jogging down the stairs and out the door, leaving him standing in his lounge room; completely and utterly confused and frustrated.

Harry breathes out in relief as he quickly strides away from Draco Malfoy and his perfect home.

"Perfect Malfoy and his perfect house," Harry mutters crossly under his breath, not even sure why he's feeling so resentful all of a sudden. Harry frowns as he recalls the sincerity in Draco's eyes when he'd said that Harry was beautiful when he laughed. "It's not real," Harry murmurs with a shake of his head. "He's just a brainwashed veela with some magical connection that makes him see and feel things that aren't real."

Harry continues to walk heedlessly through the busy London streets, keeping his head down and hands shoved in his pockets. He hopes Markus is gone by the time he gets home, he's in no mood to keep the fragile and needy man happy at this point in time.

Harry finally looks up when bumps into someone on the footpath. "Sorry," he mumbles apologetically at her.

The stranger nods; looking slightly put-out then continues on her way.

Harry sighs and is about to continue on when he catches sight of some familiar red hair on the other side of the street. His breath catches in his throat and he feels his heart constrict painfully as he watches the person turn away from the shop window.

"Fuck…" Harry swears under his breath as Ron Weasley ambles on down the street, chatting and smiling with someone Harry doesn't recognize.

Harry quickly ducks into the nearest shop, which happens to be Jigsaw, and races to the back. He hides amongst the racks of men's clothing, one hand pressed to his chest, breathing heavily, his pulse racing. He swallows, wide eyes trained to the main entrance, praying that Ron doesn't suddenly decide to cross the street and come in.

After about fifteen minutes, Harry gradually feels his heart rate begin to slow and his breathing even out. He takes a deep breath and exhales shakily.

With his gaze trained to the front entrance, he forces himself to slowly walk back to the heavy double doors and out onto the sunny footpath.

He cautiously looks around, scanning the busy area for any sign of his ginger-haired schoolmate. Thankfully there's no sign of him anywhere.

Harry ducks his head and immediately commences a relentlessly fast-paced walk back towards his flat. He finally arrives at his building, hot and sweaty from exertion, and rushes inside. He slams his apartment door shut and listens for any sounds coming from within.

Thankfully Markus has left.

Harry paces the length of his lounge room, feeling hot and on edge. That familiar rage boils up inside of him, along with a healthy dose of pain and betrayal.

He stops and closes his eyes, hands balled into fists at his sides. He needs to not think about Ron Weasley, he needs a distraction.

"Shit," he swears as he remembers that he's already used Markus that day. He'll have to get someone new.

Harry opens his eyes and glances at the clock; it's only ten o'clock in the morning. Not many clubs open at this time of day.

"Only one thing for it," Harry mutters decidedly. He quickly walks into the kitchen and withdraws a large green bottle of Absinthe from one of the cabinets.

He quickly pours himself a shot…

and then another…

and another…