Flirt by xErised
Coming Undone
It couldn't technically be considered breaking and entering, could it?
Harry tentatively poked his head out from Draco's fireplace. Draco had knocked off work early today, and his Floo wasn't blocked, so Harry reckoned that the blond should be home. Harry stepped out and tilted his neck, his ears pricked to detect any faint sound of the shower being in use.
But the house was quiet.
The brunette shrugged at nothing in particular and placed the bowl of mushroom soup on the table in the hall. Keeping his footsteps light and silent, Harry made his way to what looked like Draco's bedroom.
A still figure was all wrapped up snugly to his shoulders in a fluffy duvet. Harry drew closer, his heartbeat quickening in anticipation. He greedily eyed Draco's side profile. A naturally serene smile was poised on his lips, and Harry swallowed. He squeezed his hands into fists, loosened them gradually and stuck out a hand to thread his fingers through Draco's blond tresses.
Draco let out a little sigh and wriggled fractionally, causing the top of the duvet to slide down his shoulder.
Or more specifically, his naked shoulder.
Harry's brain melted a bit.
The ex-Gryffindor's fingers slid down Draco's locks of hair to the side of his face, the backs of his fingers ghosting across the blond's cheeks. A thumb tenderly traced Draco's strong jaw-line before resting on his jugular vein. The tip of Harry's finger slowly descended to the ridge of Draco's collarbone, and Harry smacked his lips. Harry's gaze wandered to his surroundings, before noticing a rumpled shirt, a belt and a pair of pants draped neatly on the back of a chair. Harry's eyes dilated in desire, his mind inching towards thoughts of Draco all nice and naked beneath the sheets. Harry hooked his fingers under the edge of the duvet, thinking how easy it would be to pull the covers back and check once and for all whether Draco was really, truly, gloriously naked-
The minute that thought barged its way into Harry's head, the brunette immediately recoiled, wringing his hands behind his back. What was he doing, practically molesting the man in his bloody sleep! No, this wouldn't do, this would not do at all! Harry was a fine and upright gentleman, and gentlemen did not touch naked men while they were sleeping!
The poor brunette started to pace heatedly, his hands folded across his chest and his teeth gnawing agitatedly on a fingernail. But well, if he thought more and more about it, it has been quite some time before Harry had seen Draco, and he missed him to bits. Also, Draco was always dressed in clothes that revealed little to nothing, and many a time had occurred when Harry's hands had itched to undo a few buttons of Draco's shirt.
Asking Harry to restrain his libido when he was around Draco was like asking a sugar addict to abstain from candy and chocolate; it just could not be done! This was a golden opportunity, and it wasn't as though Harry was going to touch Draco, no, nothing of that sort! Just a quick little peek, and then he'll flap the covers back on straightaway. Draco was still sleeping like a baby, and there was no way that he would wake up that quickly, would he?
With that, Harry sighed dreamily, his green eyes glazing over with lust and his mind scampering far away to a multi-orgasmic fantasy that involved Draco, him, a bowl of melted chocolate and lots and lots of licking.
The bubble suddenly popped and Harry painfully snapped out of his reverie. He thwhacked his temples with his palms and chided himself for even thinking filthy thoughts like that in Draco's home! Okay, he was going to leave right now, at this very second, go home, indulge in a good wank and return two hours later, when Draco would be fully awake and clothed.
Yes, that sounded like an excellent, more respectable plan altogether.
Harry closed his eyes, summoned a superhuman amount of self-control and let out his breath heavily. He threw a last, longing look at Draco-
The duvet had slid down from Draco's shoulders to the middle of his arms.
Utterly miserable, Harry walked to the front of the wall and thumped his head on it in sheer anguish.
Draco unconsciously frowned at the sound and turned his head slightly towards Harry. Pale fingers curled and fidgeted around the top of the sheets before pushing them away clumsily. The ex-Slytherin emitted another sigh, a louder and a more sensual one this time, and Harry quickly clamped a hand over the crotch of his jeans surreptitiously.
Harry could hardly believe his luck.
Acres and acres of creamy, unblemished skin were practically begging to be touched. His self-control fleeing out of the window, a drooling Harry advanced upon a slumbering Draco. He felt mild disappointment when he saw that Draco still had a pair of black silk boxers on, but besides that… Harry drank in the image of Draco's half-nude body like a parched traveler that had been marooned in the desert.
Fuck, this was going to be perfect wanking fodder for tonight.
Harry had to stuff his fist into his mouth to stop himself from giggling gleefully out loud at that thought.
The sheets had been lowered to the middle of Draco's thighs. His eyes hungry and hot, Harry circled over, his roaming gaze drifting over the seductive arch of Draco's lower back and his slim silhouette. Yes, Draco was a bit on the thin side, but hell, the man still had a fantastic body. Harry ran a hand through his hair and moved closer, his eyes lowered and dropping down to his favorite part of Draco's anatomy: his fit, firm bum.
Harry stood there and admired it for a while. The wolfish brunette grinned and wandered back to Draco's front, gawking at Draco's hips and yeah, just a bit lower down, mmhmmm-
Well, it couldn't be helped if Harry had accidentally tripped on something and in the process accidentally landed right on top of Draco, could it?
Harry released a silent cackle at that thought.
The brunette's features melted into a heavenly smile. He bent down, staring shamelessly and intently at Draco's crotch. No, he couldn't see a damn thing, but if he shifted just a bit closer, crooked his head at the right angle, maybe spread Draco's thighs just a teeny little bit, slip a finger underneath the waistband of those boxers and slide them off inch by inch, did he dare to do that, no, probably not, because at this very moment, Harry was content just to fantasize, fuck, he could almost make out something real sweet under those silky, sexy boxers that were practically shouting takemeoff takemeoff-
"Harry? I-Is that you? What are you doing?"
…
Oh, bollocks.
Springing up as though he had been electrocuted, Harry fixed on a watery smile and let out a rather hysterical laugh.
"Oh, nothing much, actually, ha ha ha! Your bedsheets seem to be a bit dirty, that's why I was bending down to have a proper look, I can send them for cleaning if you want, ha ha ha!" Harry babbled, panic apparent at the fringes of his voice and a hand rubbing furiously at the back of his neck in embarrassment.
Draco shook his head and roused himself up from his sleeping position, his blond hair fanning out like a messy dandelion puff. Yawning, Draco blinked sleepily and rubbed his eyes, his brain still numbed from sleep.
"It's only Friday today. I'm due to meet you on Saturday. And my sheets are fine, I just had them washed…" Draco mumbled and rubbed the tops of his arms absentmindedly. "Hang on…" Draco's mind clicked back into normalcy and he chased the spirits of sleep away. Harry's face was flushed a bright pink and the brunette was looking bashfully down at his feet. And it was then that Draco was aware of his nakedness and the covers flung all the way down…
Realization dawned.
"You pervert!" Draco bawled, groping aimlessly at the bed. Harry squeaked with alarm and raised his arms when Draco lobbed something at his head. Harry caught it neatly with his hands.
It was a dragon in the shape of a soft toy.
"Is this yours?" Harry asked incredulously, fixing it with an astonished look.
"None of your business," Draco mumbled darkly. He hauled himself out of bed and snatched it back, hugging it to his chest protectively. A soft blush clouded Draco's cheeks as he grouchily yanked the duvet up and covered himself in it. Grinning cheekily, Harry toed off his shoes and stubbornly climbed into bed with Draco, his chest pressed mulishly against Draco's back.
"Don't be mad, Draco. You know how much I miss you. Besides, I didn't touch you at all. You removed the covers yourself, and you can't fault me if you move a lot in your sleep," Harry murmured in a placating, honeyed tone. Draco huffed in reply, but his body relaxed into Harry's embrace, and the blond sighed softly, leaning back and resting his head on the other man's shoulder.
"Go on, tell me why you have a toy dragon in your bed. I promise I won't laugh," Harry beamed and said seriously, planting a gentle kiss on the slender curve of Draco's neck.
"Back when I was in my second year, all of my friends had soft toys that their mothers made for them. Pansy had a snake, Vince and Greg had matching monkeys. I really wanted one too, and I'm afraid that I threw a huge tantrum about it when Mother said that she was absolutely horrible at sewing. She offered to buy as many as I wanted, but well… I only wanted one that was handmade.
"The subject was dropped eventually, but one day Mother presented this toy dragon to me. The workmanship's far from perfect, I know, but Mother really put a lot of effort into making this for me. On top of that, this was one of the few things that I could salvage before we fled from the Manor," Draco finished quietly, smoothing back a patch of ruffled fur on the dragon's snout.
Harry tugged the toy from Draco's hands and studied it. The dragon wasn't exactly small; it was big enough to be cuddled. It had originally been an even emerald-green, except for its striped belly, which was a paler shade of green, but some of the color had faded throughout the years. A long tail dangled from its body, studded with tiny black thorns that were soft to the touch. A pair of wings fluttered weakly when Harry turned it over in his hands. One of its paws was bigger than the other, the wings were not aligned and some of the stitching had unraveled, revealing little tufts of stuffing inside.
"It's rather cute, in a wonky sort of way," Harry remarked, returning it to Draco. "Oh wait, so that's why you acted all weird when you were talking to me about Hugo's Pikachu! What's its name?"
Draco muttered something that was too low for Harry to hear. When Harry pressed further, Draco let out a long-suffering sigh and replied, his face flooded a mortifying red.
"Squiggles."
Harry stared slack-jawed at Draco. "Are you serious? I thought you'd name it some ferocious name like Claw or… Dante, perhaps! But Squiggles?!" Harry managed, before bursting into peals of raucous laughter.
Draco's spine stiffened, and Harry hastily wrapped his arms tighter around the blond. "I'm not making fun of you, honest. It's just a surprise, that's all. I think it's completely adorable. Just like you," Harry whispered, interlacing their fingers together and squeezing lightly.
Draco bowed his head, a shy, mushy smile concealed behind his affronted expression and squeezed back.
"Why are you back home so early?" Harry asked, plucking the dragon from Draco's grasp and plonking it on his bedside table.
"I had a headache just now. It's better after sleeping for a short while. And how did you know that I've reached home so early? Have you been stalking me again?" Draco smirked smugly, a lazy pout gracing his lips.
"Stalking?! Of course not!" Harry protested, flustered. "I prefer to call it focused waiting," he sniffed. "I'm bored out of my mind, Draco! I'm not allowed back to work until next Tuesday because of the compulsory medical leave that Kingsley insists on me finishing even though I'm alright. And I really, really miss you," Harry repeated, green eyes locking sweetly with grey.
I miss you too, Draco thought, but carefully guarded those unsaid words to himself. Draco lifted up Harry's arm and scrutinized the white lines of healed over Dark wounds. "Are you still having those nightmares?" The blond queried, concerned.
"No," Harry lied, camouflaging the answer with a laugh that was a bit too bright to be genuine. "That's enough about me. I've got an excellent remedy for headaches, you know," Harry dropped his voice and purred sultrily, his eyes dancing with mischief.
"Like?" Draco said lightly, shivering when he felt zingy flutters darting like fireflies up and down the frame of his body.
"I give great massages. You're half-naked right now, so it'll make things easier, won't it? Do you want to be sitting up or lying down? I can do it both ways," Harry crooned lasciviously, his eyebrows waggling at the double entendre.
"Sitting up would be fine," Draco said, a gleam of suggestive grey caught between slinky eyelashes. His breath hitched in his throat when Harry casually passed his tongue over his lips and began to knead Draco's shoulders with just the right amount of strength. The brunette parted his own legs further and pulled the blond nearer until Draco was sandwiched between the ex-Gryffindor's thighs.
Draco tilted his head back towards Harry, but Harry only grinned slyly, placed his fingers on Draco's chin and turned his head back. Harry's teasing touches, a deft play of wrists and knuckles, caressed the dome of his shoulders, disrupting Draco's sensitive nerves just below the surface of his skin. Riptides of desire and want jetted through Draco's system, and he bent his toes under the sheets, feeling the magnetic, addictive heat melding between their bodies. Draco found this sudden intrusion of personal space disconcerting yet thrilling at the same time. All of Draco's exhaustions and weariness was gradually melting away; tantamount to Draco sinking his body in a warm, foamy bath after a long, hard day.
Harry's hand feathered down the knobs of bone at the back of Draco's neck, descending to the valley between his shoulder blades, nothing but mere fingertips skimming all the way down the line of his spine, and Draco thought Harry was going to go all the way down-
Harry leant in, dipped his head, bared his teeth and bit down on Draco's neck, straddling that perfect pressure between pain and arousal.
Draco's hands clenched and fisted around the sheets.
The awareness of Harry sliding the tips of his fingers under the waistband of Draco's boxers and hooking it up didn't elude him. Draco wanted him to stop, wanted him not to stop all at the same time-
"This isn't a massage," Draco managed through gritted teeth when Harry's fingers ended up stroking the swell of his right hip, precariously close to bits that shouldn't be touched at all. Draco laughed throatily, a laugh that he tried to make dismissive but came across as rather strangled.
"I know my limits, contrary to what you may think. Do you know what I'll do if I went too far? Do you want me to show you?" Harry murmured softly, his irresistible charm cranked all the way up to maximum wattage. With that, the brunette slipped himself smoothly from behind Draco, pushed the blond down on the bed in a fluid motion and positioned his body on top of the other man. Sparks of molten electricity fired all over Draco's skin, tumbling through his veins and kindling in his blood.
And they weren't even touching yet.
Harry's gaze lingered appreciatively on Draco's naked chest and abdomen and he smiled slowly, one side of his mouth moving up in a rich, crafty smile that made Draco's heart accelerate and thump at double time. Every cell in Harry was screaming at him to get Draco naked as soon as possible and have his wicked way with him, but there was one thing that Harry wanted to clear up before they got to the fun.
"Curious. I would have expected you to have bitten my head off by now. I guess your final verdict about the two months is practically a foregone conclusion," Harry pointed out, stroking Draco's neck idly.
"What makes you so sure?" Draco said, frowning up at Harry's grinning face.
"I'm in your house, in your room, in your bed, touching you like this. And you're letting me. Isn't it obvious, Draco?" Harry replied, his eyes shining triumphantly and his low baritone voice a rumble that Draco could feel at the pit of his stomach.
Draco's frown deepened for a few seconds before the blond's strawberry-pink lips split into a superior little smile that was a bit too Slytherin for Harry's liking.
Harry blinked.
Still maintaining that imperious expression on his face, Draco propped himself up on his elbows, raised an arm up and brushed his knuckles across the nape of Harry's neck, shooting the brunette one of his sexually potent looks.
Harry's cock twitched.
"You want me, don't you? You've always wanted me right from the start. I bet you think of touching me, spreading my legs open, only for you. You'll want to lick, suck and tease every single inch of me. I wonder how I sound like in your head when you're fucking me. Do you think of me when you wank, Harry? Do you?" Draco whispered, snapping a hand over Harry's wrist when the brunette moved to unzip his jeans. The blond lifted Harry's hand to his lips and dragged his tongue foxily along the length of Harry's middle finger before taking it in his mouth, his lips wrapped around it and his grey eyes promising a night of unforgettably mind-blowing sex-
"I think about you, Draco, want you, want you now-" Harry bit out in disjointed sentences, his eyes cloaked in a mist of lust. Draco gave Harry's finger one last lick and slipped it out, an innocent pout settling on his mouth. Harry immediately circled an arm around Draco's waist, hoisted the blond up and kissed him desperately, each obscene, sleazy sex scene in his mind rearing up hotly.
A thoroughly possessive growl tore from Harry's throat and resonated in between their mouths, their kisses twisting and spiraling all around one another. Harry wallowed deliciously in a deluge of pure pleasure, he was swept up completely in this wicked rush that robbed him of common sense and it didn't matter, because Draco was there, those filthy, dirty words coming out of that porn star mouth-
"Do you want me to take off your clothes for you? It looks rather tight, doesn't it, Harry? It has to be uncomfortable. I'll strip all of it off. Then I'll let you play with me, will you like that?"
"Yes, please, get me naked, Draco-" Harry panted out desperately, a groan spilling forth from his lips.
"I'll do all that and more," Draco continued, before that same plotting, roguish twinkle appeared in his eye. "But not today, Harry."
It was as though someone had thrown a bucket of cold water at his erection.
"W-What? You mean we're not having sex tonight?" Harry stammered out when he regained functional control of proper speech. "But you said all those things! You were sucking my finger and everything!"
"You're not my boyfriend yet, Harry. It only becomes official tomorrow night. And I never sleep with men that aren't my lovers. I might like to take it up the arse, but you should know by now that I don't play into your hands that easily," Draco cooed, grabbing the sheets and pulling it up to his hips.
"You could have just told me, instead of misleading me like that! You bloody cocktease!" Harry hollered in dismay, his brows scrunched up in misery.
"Where's the fun in that? I also wanted to know whether you wanked thinking about me," Draco grinned impishly. When the scowl on Harry's face didn't fade, Draco quickly hugged Harry from the back and said soothingly, "Come on. I promise I'll wank to you tonight. And when we eventually get to fuck, wouldn't it feel so much better after all the teasing, hmmm? You know how much I love winding you up."
"Does it mean that we'll be having sex tomorrow?" Harry finally grunted, perking up at that prospect.
"We'll see, Harry," Draco said in a noncommittal fashion, throwing the brunette a risqué wink. Harry kept quiet for a moment, before cheering up at a particular thought.
"Can I see you wank tonight?"
"… No."
Sighing, Harry jammed his shoes on his feet. His profile softened as he got up and tucked Draco in bed. The ex-Slytherin beamed naturally when Harry kissed Draco's forehead lovingly. A bubble of affection burgeoned within the blond. The emotion in Draco's eyes used to flit by swiftly before he covered them up efficiently, but now…
People change.
"I brought you mushroom soup, your favorite. I'll put it in your kitchen, alright? Heat it up when you're hungry later. I'll pick you up tomorrow evening," Harry reminded, fluffing up the sheets around Draco. Draco snuggled happily into his bed, but not before a sudden fact, rude and harsh, sliced through his mind.
"Harry?" Draco sat up, his eyebrows knotted with concern. "I'll still be able to see you tomorrow, but… Pietro and I are doing a photo shoot with Wealth magazine. You'll have to pick me up at their headquarters, not here."
"You didn't mention this before. Sudden change of plans?"
"It was originally slated for the early afternoon, but the timing was changed. Normally their slots are set in stone because they work on a very tight schedule. That's why I think that someone pushed the shoot down to the evening on purpose. I reckon it's Pietro. He must have found out that we were going out in the evening. Maybe it's better for us to meet on Sunday-" Draco fretted.
"I won't have that. I'm seeing you tomorrow, and that's final. He can't do anything to us, can he?" Harry pointed out, his eyes narrowing and his voice deepening to a snarl at the mention of Pietro's name.
"I guess not," Draco said uncertainly.
"Don't worry about it, Draco. It'll be fine in the end," Harry reassured calmly, patting Draco's hand comfortingly. Draco slumped back on his pillow and couldn't help but stare hungrily at Harry's shoulders when the sexy, sexy brunette turned and exited his bedroom.
When he stepped out of the room, the façade of confidence on Harry's face fell apart. He didn't know what Labelle was playing at. Harry angrily snatched the soup and walked towards the kitchen. His curiosity getting the better of him, Harry's gaze floated around the area. There was only a meager amount of food that he could see, and most of them were leftovers. He opened a few dusty cupboards, and with a disapproving air, Harry realized that they didn't contain anything much at all. He moved on to the largest cupboard and opened it, his eyes widening when he came face to face with a pyramid of identical jars of honey. Harry recognized the brand and knew that this brand wasn't cheap.
Something niggled in Harry's mind, and he felt that he had seen this before… It came rushing back to him; he had seen the honey the first time that he had entered Draco's office, and Draco had swiftly hid it from him. Questions whizzed through Harry's head at breakneck speed. He felt like going back to Draco's bedroom and quizzing him about it, but he didn't want to disturb him.
The spring in his step no longer present, Harry trudged out of the kitchen and wondered what else he didn't know about Draco Malfoy.
It started out as just a few devious grazes of fingers here and there, surreptitiously placed and oh-so-unnoticeable if only a brief, cursory look was given. The photographer was snapping merrily away, the spotlight highlighted on both blonds. Harry sat on the sidelines, his hands shoved tenaciously underneath the seat of his jeans. He had to keep his cool; he couldn't do anything to let Labelle know that he was well on his way to provoking Harry. Harry had opted to meet Draco early, and it was a damn good thing that he did, Harry huffed, scowling when Pietro smirked superciliously at him.
Ignoring him as much as possible, the brunette trailed his gaze dreamily over Draco, concentrating on the blond's camera-pleasing cheekbones, how delectable the man looked, and what the fuck was his hand doing on his bum?! Draco squirmed imperceptibly, his body inching stealthily away from Pietro's wandering hand, but still maintaining that perfunctory, precise smile on his features.
That was enough.
Harry got up, building up a head of steam as he stormed towards Pietro, ready to sock him a good one for all of his cheap touches and he's doing it right in front of me, the bloody cheek of him- for the past fifteen minutes. Sensing the anger radiating off Harry like a beacon, Draco swiftly murmured an apology to the photographer and intercepted his date skillfully.
"It'll be done soon, I promise, just hold on for a while longer," Draco said anxiously, placing his palms on Harry's chest in a measure to placate him. Harry roughly hustled Draco behind him and rounded on Pietro.
"What do you think you're playing at?! I'm not blind, you know!"
Pietro made his way towards Harry with an arrogant swagger and regarded him with a cool glance, before dismissing the rest of the crew with a mere flick of his head. His shrewd business brain was humming with activity as he digested the scene in front of him.
Oh wait, he didn't need to. He had planned and scripted this every step of the way, didn't he? Him, the bearer of the Midas touch, complete with that cold-blooded determination to accumulate success after triumph. Pietro's insides roiled tantalizingly at the prospect of having a verbal battle with Potter, the result in which he would come out the winner, of course.
Was there any other way?
"It's so easy to push your buttons, isn't it? You've had your fun for the last two months with Draco, so it's about time to give him back to me, hmmm? It's rather… rude to be holding onto something that obviously belongs to another person, don't you think so?" Pietro said mockingly, his voice trickling forth as sweet as honey and molasses.
Harry could feel Draco bristling behind him, but the brunette curled his fingers around the blond's wrist, letting him know that he could handle it. When Harry spoke, his words came out as sure and scorching as Pietro's, the riled-up fire in his eyes betraying the steadiness of his voice.
"The last time I checked, Draco was single when I began to court him, so I would like to gently remind you that my dates with Draco have nothing to do with you, Mister Labelle."
"Oh no, Mister Potter, I'm afraid that you don't fully understand the gravity of this situation. You see, me and Draco, well, we haven't actually broken up officially yet. Haven't you ever wondered why everyone still assumes that we're still together? Haven't you ever wondered why Draco never discusses the prickly topic of me with you? Maybe there's something that he's hiding from you, hmmm? Maybe he's always been stringing you along, treating it all as a child's game? I have learnt that the whole… affair with the both of you started out as something like a bet, didn't it? And well, when it comes to betting, it's perfectly… common if someone… cheats along the way, doesn't it?" Pietro retorted sardonically, powdered sugar crystallizing in his sentences, inserting pauses between his words for maximum effect.
Draco gulped nervously.
Snippets of words came tumbling back to Harry in ugly, disfigured clarity, straight out from Draco's own mouth those few weeks ago-
"-complicating this game by bringing love into the equation-"
And it was then that Harry recalled that Draco never did apologize for those words.
Harry stepped back, miniscule beads of self-doubt mounting in his chest, his mind reeling with the seeds of subversion that Pietro had oh-so-subtly planted. Harry's grip on Draco loosened slightly and he looked helplessly in cornered grey eyes.
"Don't listen to him, Harry, you know he's not making any sense," Draco pleaded, pulling the brunette away. And it looked as though Harry was about to ignore Pietro altogether and run off with Draco-
"Will the both of you last? Draco has expensive tastes, if you haven't noticed that. He prefers vintage wine compared to a flask of cheap Firewhiskey, a beverage that you're all too familiar with, no? Money is our raison d'etre, and I'm sad to say that it's something that you're sorely lacking in. I can give him anything and everything that his heart desires, I can buy him an island off some exotic coast. What about you, Potter? What's your net worth?"
"-all of those cheap Muggle dates?!"
Harry stopped firmly in his tracks and he eyed the older blond, torn in between wanting to punch him in the face, ignoring everything that spewed out from his lips, but yet because it's what you've worried before, how can you support Draco and the lifestyle that he's become accustomed to, isn't it Harry, isn't it?!
Each scathingly implied insult was delivered with cold aplomb, having been practised to perfection. Pietro was the reigning king of all supreme that towered above the rest of the peons. Pietro's jubilant Cheshire cat grin widened even further. He laughed, his malicious laughter salting the air around them.
"You've done a stint in a poor man's pie, Draco. Isn't it time for you to come back to where you rightfully belong to, where all the big boys are?" Pietro asked pleasantly, a hand extended.
"Leave me alone," Draco gnashed out through clenched teeth, but not before Harry saw a glimmer of hesitancy zip through as fast as quicksilver through grey eyes-
"-think you were good enough for me?!"
"So what if you've got truckloads of money? You don't have a family, you don't have friends! You don't know what it means to love someone! You can't take my friends away from me just by whisking your Galleons under their noses-" Harry raged no, I won't let you destroy everything that I've worked for, no-
"Yes, I can't, but I can take away the one person that supposedly means the world to you," Pietro said scornfully, his eyes slitted this is taking too long, why hasn't he left yet- into iceberg impatient blue. He was the sort of man that calculated and considered every single risk, every single scenario, and sketched up a backup plan in case things went awry.
Pietro licked his lips eagerly and pulled out his trump card, his expression taking on one of a cobra before it delivers its killing blow.
"I met Draco for dinner two days after you were discharged from St. Mungo's. Guess you didn't know that. It was the same table that we always sat at, and I invited Draco back up to our hotel room, the same room that we always book. And, well, I reckon I don't need to give you the sordid details of what went on next, do I?" Pietro said sweetly, his corners of his lips upturned victoriously.
Harry relinquished his hold on Draco's wrist entirely.
"He's lying, isn't he, Draco?! Tell me he's lying!"
Draco's face took on an uneasy, pinched pallor.
bang bang-
The already-present diffidence in Harry was being augmented with every passing second. Pietro's announcement had thrown him completely off-kilter. The blond was the personification of everything Harry loathed. What did it mean when Draco used to be together with him? What did it mean when Draco let Pietro groom him to be just like him? Harry found himself wondering whether Pietro had a heart underneath his chilling exterior.
"We didn't do anything more than have dinner, Harry-" Draco tried to clarify, but Pietro craftily covered up Draco's voice with his own booming one.
"Five years worth of carnal knowledge of Draco's body sure comes in useful at times, doesn't it? It took you long to see that Draco deserves better, no, he deserves the best. He deserves me," Pietro finished sneeringly, smiling as though he had crushed a harassing bug. His eyes danced with merriment at the silly emotions splattered so sloppily all over Harry's face for the whole world to see, for all of them to pry his weaknesses apart and dissect them with a fine-toothed comb.
beautiful dirty rich-
dirty dirty rich beautiful dirty rich-
"I didn't have sex with Pietro, it was just a dinner!" Draco shouted hastily, expecting Harry to bat Pietro's hand away when the other blond grabbed Draco by the wrist.
But Harry didn't move.
"Then why didn't you tell me?! And why were you having dinner with him when you're no longer together? Lunch meetings, yes, I might be able to accept that, but dinner in the evening? Complete with candlelight and polished cutlery, am I not wrong?" The brunette yelled, his control snapping and betrayal thundering hotly on the heels of jealousy.
Harry had never raised his voice like this to Draco before. Yes, they had had small altercations, but never why is he shouting at me without giving me a chance to explain- like this. Stunned, Draco simply stood there, powerless and paralyzed, while Harry fell to pieces in front of him.
His misery engine was speeding ahead on full steam, and there were no brakes in sight. The brunette let out a truncated laugh and rolled up the sleeves on the shirt what's the point of wearing it when you don't feel comfortable- that Draco had bought for him for Pansy's wedding.
"I was pathetic at Pansy's wedding. I didn't belong there and I knew it! I don't see the point of spending thousands of Galleons just for the cutlery and the table settings alone, I don't see the point of inviting guests that aren't your friends! And you, you just left me there all alone! Am I so socially challenged that you can't even introduce me to your friends?!" Harry ranted, his features lighting up with incredulity. He remembered how the Weasleys had to scrimp and save simply for their school textbooks, remembered the murmurs interlaced with secrecy and disbelief that smoked around him when he caught people staring at him at the wedding, that sense of exclusion that made it feel like the first day of school all over again.
"-but for us, those in the higher echelons of society-"
Suits were all about conformity, a shameless portrayal of power and professionalism. Feeling utterly claustrophobic, Harry snarled angrily, reached up and ripped his tie off, tossing it haphazardly on the floor.
Draco stared at Harry's discarded tie. That's the tie that I love on him, he dressed up for me-
"Your job took precedence over everything else. There's no difference if I miss a day of work, but for you, you get to lose hundreds and thousands of Galleons if you do that. And I can't accept that difference, Draco!" Disappointment and chagrin bore down on Harry's shoulders, the bitterness that he usually kept in check sullying his words.
"Are you asking me to choose between you and my work?! You must be mad!" Draco lashed out finally, ignoring the dull, throbbing ache where his heart used to be.
"-it's a letter telling you that I can't make it to your party tonight-"
"Yes, I'm completely mad! I'm mad for thinking that we had a future together, I must be mad for thinking that you fancied me as much as I did, when you were probably in bed with your ex, laughing at me, laughing at how easy it was to wrap me around your little finger, wasn't it?!" Harry bellowed, failing to rein in his infamous temper and rashness, aiming each dart of a word like gilded weapons, tailor-made to wound and hurt.
Draco's nerves were suddenly flooded with icy-cold water.
Ever since they had met, aged eleven, Draco had been born with a silver spoon practically clenched in his teeth, a far cry from Harry's own humble background. Harry had also chosen to give his Triwizard earnings to the Weasley twins, simply because he knew that there were other more crucial things to be treasured in life, but for Draco, it was a whole new different ball game altogether-
"-do you deserve my love, Harry-"
"I was never good enough for you right from the beginning! You fobbed me off when I met you at the Ministry function. You made me wait when I was due at your office. And all those subtle, little things that make me feel so menial, that tiny sneer that you give me whenever I laugh and say that I don't know anything about business! I never should have contacted you again, I never should have gotten in a relationship with you, I never should have let you toy with my feelings like that because you're still the same stuck-up, arrogant, indifferent Slytherin that I knew!" His brain was yelling what are you doing, shut up, shut up- at him to stop, but still, his resentful voice was continuing, ringing in the air, speaking through Harry like he was a ventriloquist's puppet, that little speech tasting like forgotten ashes in Harry's mouth-
we're tearing us apart-
Harry had had enough of the sense of inadequacy that plagued him, that little growing cyst of inferiority that had been metastasizing over the months. At every step, at every turn of the two months were the hints and the evidence that had been steadily piling up, screaming blatantly in Harry's face that they would never work. The chasm between them, that sharp, insurmountable difference in status, the social, psychological, emotional divide that came in between them was only apparent now, all cut and dried and hung up and inspected on an emotional washing line.
"-and besides you don't have enough money-"
Everything had to come to a head eventually, and it was culminating up to this very day.
"-five years… you took Draco away from Pietro-"
The onslaught of Harry's words was impaling Draco, and both brunette and blond stood motionless, frozen in place like exhibits on display. The atmosphere was balanced precariously on the tip of a dewdrop, and Harry's name was like a word that Draco couldn't physically say out loud, but his brain was screaming it why are you saying all of this, are you leaving us like this, tell me you don't mean it, tell me, Harry, Harry, Harry!
Behind him, Pietro crooked a finger, and an assistant scuttled forward.
"Mr Potter, please leave. We're already behind schedule."
A deflated Harry turned away and shuffled woodenly, his head hanging, his hands in his pockets and his heart dropping all the way down to his shoes. He walked away, spurred on by waves of humiliation. An air of finality reverberated, like curtains being drawn at the end of a play.
"You don't fit in my world, and I don't fit in yours," Harry murmured dully as a parting shot and Draco could see the hurt cut into dejected green eyes and Harry was moving away and Draco's ears were ringing with what sounded like a heartbreak no, no!
cross my heart out-
in the palm of your hand-
Shaking his head to clear the confused whirlwind of emotions spinning in his mind, Draco scowled and looked like he was about to chase Harry, but Pietro fastened a rigid hand on his arm.
"He's the one that left you, Draco. What's the point of chasing him? And besides, are you sure you want to leave? This is Wealth magazine that we're talking about, or have you forgotten? You know how much damage they can inflict on people who waste their time," Pietro whispered lightly, looking as pleased as a satiated beast.
Draco shook his hand free and threw Pietro a dirty look. He looked at the photographer and the wardrobe crew fixing him with urgent gazes and the tapping of their feet this is your job-. Exhaling tediously, Draco nodded wearily and walked back to the photographer-
-but not before grabbing Harry's abandoned tie and holding it tightly in his hands.
his heart that dropped all the way down to hell when-
it slipped out of your hands-
He had almost forgotten that he used to like daisies.
He had once thought roses were too overrated, too maudlin, too cheesy, but now Draco found himself preferring roses more and more compared to daisies.
Maybe it was because roses reminded him of Harry.
Pietro smiled silkily, a bouquet of daisies clutched in his hand like a glistening lifeline. Disappointment weighed heavily down on Draco's features as he let the other blond in and closed the door after him.
"I thought you would have packed up. It's time for you to move back in with me, isn't it, after yesterday's fiasco? The house elves have already prepared a bath for you," Pietro said, a slight frown registering in between his brows as he regarded Draco's tiny hovel of a house with disdain.
"I'm not moving back in," the ex-Slytherin said quietly.
The whiplash grin on Pietro's face dimmed, but he instantly recovered his equilibrium. "Maybe you need some time to adjust. Let me know when you're ready to return. Everything will be just the way you like it, just like old times." The certainty in Pietro's voice wavered and he extended the daises towards Draco, wiping off any trace of despondence on his face.
Draco didn't take the flowers.
"Draco. Draco, look at me," Pietro demanded, abandoning the bouquet on the couch, grabbing Draco by the shoulders and forcing the ex-Slytherin to meet his gaze head-on. Grey linked with blue for a blink-and-you'll-miss-it second before Draco turned away, that glimmer of defiance and secrecy shrouding those grey eyes.
Pietro was very familiar with that expression.
"Please leave. I'm in no mood to deal with you right now," Draco murmured, his eyes still averting Pietro's a relic from my past interfering with my present and my future- displeased look.
"Are you still moping over him? I've exposed all of his vulnerabilities, each and every single one of his shortcomings! You just wanted to try someone different, fine. It doesn't mean that I'm happy with it, but I'll bear with it for you! You were a bit too enamored with him, but now I've brought you back to reality, so come back to me, Draco!" Pietro said beseechingly, a hand shaking Draco's elbow.
"I want to be with him," Draco said simply, wrenching his arm away from Pietro's grasp. Pietro inhaled deeply and let it out grievously in between clenched teeth, sounding like he was having a slow, painful puncture.
"Tell me what he has. Tell me what he has that I'm lacking and I'll fix it. I'll be what he is and more. Don't shut yourself off from me again, don't do this to me again, please," Pietro whispered soberly, taking two steps back from Draco, giving him enough space to marshal his thoughts.
"He's the one's that lacking, not you! Harry can't sing to save his life, but he still does it to make me happy-"
"I'll take singing lessons-"
"That's not the point, Pietro! It's not like running a business, you can't list down the pros and cons and make an informed decision! You can't simply decide that A is better than B and completely erase all the memories that you've got of B and then move on to A and pretend that B never happened! You can't take me back just by eliminating Harry from the competition!
"Yes, he's never spent extravagant amounts of money when he's out with me, he doesn't buy me expensive gifts, and our first date was absolutely disastrous, but I know that he will never blow me off simply because his work entails him to! He will never forget my birthday because he's got a meeting in Paris! He's more comfortable around kids than writing proposals and editing documents, and yes, I thought kids were bratty and irritating, but have you actually held a proper, well-behaved one in your arms? This isn't just about money, it's about something else entirely that can't be quantified in cold-hearted cash! It's about emotions! Do you understand it now, Pietro?
"Harry gives me something that money cannot buy," Draco concluded with taciturnity, his eyes downcast and the tips of his thumbs rubbing against one another, a telltale sign to Pietro that the younger man was nervous.
"Oh," Pietro said dully. He looked beyond his years. He stretched a hand and rubbed his temples jerkily, his mind refusing to wrap around being handed rejection on a silver platter by a man eight years his junior. Resentment and anger, saddled and buried in Pietro's heart for the past few months, boiled over and resurfaced like a squall breaking free from below a calm body of ocean.
"Why did you leave like that then? Why did you close me off, pack up your things and leave me hanging like that?! There was no note, no owl the next day, nothing! Do you think it was fair to me, after all we've been through?! You don't know how much it hurt, just knowing that you've bought a house on your own, shifted the separate hotel accounts over to your side! You've planned your departure all along. You don't know how many nights I've stayed awake, waiting for you to come back of your own accord, obsessing over the last few days in my head like some madman, wondering what I've done wrong! I need to know why you left me, I need to know what's wrong with us before we can fix it!" Pietro pleaded dolefully, his hands hanging limply at his sides.
Pietro Labelle's professional, pristine veneer had finally been ruthlessly pummeled and destroyed.
And in that moment, Draco could see the man that he once been in love with, the man that showed his emotions clearly on his face and didn't hide them behind skillfully delivered smiles that were in actual fact meant to demoralize and ridicule, the man that hugged and said iloveyou as freely as he wanted, the man that used to give him silly cards that he spent precious time choosing with love and care, instead of asking his secretary to send a perfunctory bouquet of daisies and a boring card to Draco when it was his birthday or anniversary.
Draco felt no tug of regret, no invisible leash of desire binding the both of them together anymore.
Draco smiled a sad little smile and deposited his emotionally wrung-out body in a chair. And with that, Draco stretched all the way down to the bottom of his broken heart where no one ever had the privilege to venture into, and with a jittery, fragile hand, swiped away the cumbersome cobwebs of secrets and lugged out the truth.
"We were together for five years. I've told you right from the start that I want to take a year off with you to go travelling around the world. You said that it would be best to wait for the business to be stable. I agreed. I never got that dream fulfilled in those five years, Pietro. I was sick of the reasons that you gave me when you had perfectly capable assistants to help you if you chose to take a leave of absence, but you refused to hand the reins over to them.
"I brought up the idea of marriage during our fourth year. You never did anything about that either. By then we were both so busy, having had our own accounts to take care of, and I got so tired of bothering you about it, you'd be so irritable and surly whenever I brought both topics up, so I just… stopped," Draco explained, his words stilting in between every few sentences, remembering how hurt he used to be by Pietro's indifference. It felt foreign to say out loud the things that he had kept in his heart caustically for the past few years.
"I'll book a Portkey whenever you're ready, just tell me where's your first destination-" Pietro tried, his blue eyes darkening while suffocating, pressing despair sank their ugly claws into him.
"It's too late for that now. And there was the pressure, the intense pressure to live up to your expectations all the damn time!" Draco got up and began to pace the hall twitchily, his hands clasped tightly behind his back as he talked, his distressed voice gaining momentum. "It felt like this race with you to see which one of us could seal the better deals, the need to show each other up. I had to show you how hard I was working, even on weekends, if not you'll give me that ghastly frown, that frown that makes me feel like I'm not enough for you, you don't think I notice, but yes, I do, and it hurts! That habit's rubbed off on me, I'm a workaholic through and through and I can't do anything to stop it! I spend more time at the office than at home-"
"If only you had told me all of this-"
"If only you had pressed me about it further-"
"It's not been easy for me, either! There're times when you just enclose yourself completely, curl yourself up in that unresponsive, invulnerable little ball, and to get you to talk to me, it's like getting blood from a stone! You've said before that you've given me hints, but they're so obscure, so cryptic that I can't crack them at all!" Pietro railed, a strained, tormented feeling congealing in his stomach. "You smile and you laugh when you're with me, but I can see that you're covering up your unhappiness behind some sort of shield at times, and I can't, I can't-" Pietro pressed the heel of his palm between his brows and let out a strangled sigh, breathing deeply and forcing himself to settle down.
"Draco, I love you," the older man murmured softly, his crestfallen blue eyes searching out for any grain of reciprocation in the heavy grey skies in Draco's eyes. It would so tempting, so easy for Draco to agree, so easy for the both of them to paper over the cracks that marred their relationship, so easy to solve this whole dilemma with a simple yes I love you too, but, but-
"I don't," Draco replied succinctly, retreating from Pietro and placing a respectable distance between them. "Pietro, I don't love you anymore, and no matter what you do, no matter how many of my boyfriends you try to eliminate, I will not love you. Maybe I should have told you right from the start instead of running away like that. Maybe it would have helped the both of us to move on. I hope that I've made this clear," Draco said slowly and turned his back towards Pietro, a dismissive tactic that Pietro himself had taught to Draco.
"I'm breaking my partnership with you. I've done some calculations, and I think that Millicent and I will be able to do a good enough job with the remaining clients that we've got. The contract will be couriered over to you tomorrow morning, and I hope that you will sign it without further ado."
And just like that, Draco had hammered the final nail in their coffin, efficiently annihilating the single, tenuous, brittle tie that joined them. By doing that, it went against Draco's Slytherin instincts that thirsted for money and power of the highest order, because Pietro Labelle had the ability to propel him to greater heights. But he no longer wanted to ferry this emotional baggage around the workplace, no longer wanted to ready words of confrontation on the tip of his tongue whenever he had meetings with Pietro.
"I doubt that you'll cause any trouble for me in that aspect, will you? After the trip around the world that has never been carried out, after the engagement that has never been executed, after how you drove Harry away like that," Draco said, keeping his voice as light as possible with maximum effort, but his jaw clenched when he whispered Harry's name.
Steel cords of guilt lashed their way across Pietro's limbs, making them feel like burdensome lead. He knew there was no point arguing with the other man. They were perfect for each other initially, but as the years passed, they were too headstrong, too alike to be a good match for each other, the both of them adapting and putting their work before each other.
It was a disaster just waiting to happen, and Pietro had had his suspicions, but to hear the words all spread out in such explicit, crystal clear cut terms, exactly like the conditions of a business contract…
Pietro no longer had any smear of hope left to hide behind.
Letting out a dry little laugh, Pietro cast a faltering, forlorn look at Draco's stiffly held back, wondering that maybe, just maybe if he had done things a bit differently, that maybe, maybe-
In business, there was only one loser and one winner. But it seemed that in this particular game of love, both Harry Potter and he were losers. With that thought echoing sadly in his head, Pietro turned and left, his tread slow and painstakingly reluctant.
Draco stood very still for a while when he heard the door click closed. He took hold of the bunch of daisies, sat down heavily on the floor and stared unseeingly at each petal. He scrunched his eyes shut for a moment, pretending that the flowers in his hands were roses from Harry, roses that conveyed his apologies- I'm sorry for saying all those things, I should have listened to you instead of him, I'm sorry for my rashness, Draco, Draco-
Draco opened his eyes.
The daisies were still daisies.
Draco sank his forehead down to the stems of the flowers. His relationship with Harry had been torn into shredded ribbon, complete with an abrupt, brusque full stop that made Draco's heart cramp. He was confronted with the flotsam and jetsam of their affections, ruined by the brunette's yelled words that were like piercing arrows that had found their target. The blond's emotions were all compressed and pinched, knotted into one huge, smothering lump, and he couldn't believe it, he couldn't believe that Harry had left him floundering like this-
I miss-
what we thought-
we were-
/tbc
I had originally planned the Pietro/Draco scene to be dialogue only, but I figured out that I wanted to introduce another dimension to Pietro, and I hope that I've managed to bring that across. For those who still dislike him like mad, I'm glad to tell you that this is the last time you'll see him. /grin
Do review!