Disclaimer : Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling. I just enjoy messing with her characters.
Warnings : strong language, lemon, rape (non descriptive and not H/D), dub-con, violence, drug use, hints of prostitution, multiple pairings, OCs.
Beta: The amazing MsLefay. Thank you for your incredible rapidity and you thorough corrections!
A/N: There was no lemon in the original chapter, but in a spur of the moment thing, I decided to add one. It's not completely gratuitous considering the setting, but let's face it, I just wanted to indulge myself. Anyway, I hope you'll appreciate it!
CHAPTER 24: STOLEN MOMENTS
April 17, 2005
Four days had gone by and Harry could still not swallow anything. He hung around the apartment with a ghostly face like a wandering soul. Never had he looked so hollow and tired. After the physical pain came melancholia and lassitude. All life had left him, and only the hope of Draco's return kept him from wasting away. MacNair was given more than a hard time, Harry letting out all his rancour. Getting off drugs had been cathartic in that way: he didn't hold himself back anymore. Hallucinatory memories of his violent cold turkey came back to him like a nightmare but what had shocked him the most was the indefectible presence of the man by his side. His attitude was laudable, however it would never erase what had happened between them.
Then that afternoon, MacNair came to get him out of bed. Exhausted and still on edge, Harry protested but his companion's insistence got the better of him. MacNair guided him out by the hand like a child, but Harry wouldn't let himself be pushed around and wrenched his hand away, dragging his feet behind him. MacNair didn't show any irritation and continued his descent.
When at the middle of the stairs, Harry froze, astounded by the sight in front of the door: Draco was there, his hands in his pockets and a smirk on his face, seemingly content and at ease. Harry knew better though. The slight crease of his brows proved how worried he really was. Harry couldn't detach his eyes from him and MacNair's words sounded like babbling in the distance. He was going to turn Draco away, Harry was sure of it.
MacNair turned to Harry. "… with us."
He quieted then and Harry now realized he had not listened to a word. He shook his head, redirecting his attention toward him. "What?" he eloquently asked!
"Draco will stay a few days with us," MacNair repeated, "so we can catch up and share our tips."
Harry was certain he had misheard and frowned incredulously. He had probably blanked out…
MacNair sighed. "I have to leave now," he added in a carefree tone. "Rabastan and Rodolphus are waiting for me." To Draco, "Greyback is in the living-room, he'll bring you up on our latest."
MacNair climbed the first steps to reach Harry and after kissing his cheek murmured, "I want you to understand that I trust you." MacNair locked his dark eyes with his. "Don't disappoint me."
Harry looked gob smacked. MacNair wasn't the kind of man who turnabout like that. When he set rules for Harry, he never relented on his decisions. And now he had invited Draco into their home, leaving Harry almost alone with him, when only a week ago, he had sworn to end all relationship between them. Harry stayed a few seconds like that, just staring at MacNair, confused. But the man's eyes were limpid: it wasn't a trap.
MacNair picked up his keys, called Pete who joined him in a hurry and they were out the door. The sound of the lock sealed their departure.
Harry was standing on the stair, unmoving, Draco on the threshold, moments in freeze frame. Harry worried his lips, unable to make a single movement, and for once, Draco looked as nervous as him, the reunion similar to one of two lovers in exile. Simultaneously they both broke into motion, Harry running down the stairs and Draco reaching him in three strides: they met on the last step, hugging tight, careful not to make any noise. Harry closed his eyes and basked in the exquisite sensation: the firm arms around him, the unmistakable scent, the soft hair on his cheek. It was the first time in the last four days that he was really breathing. Draco caressed the brunet's ear with his nose.
"You alright?" he whispered.
Harry answered with a smile. Draco took his head between his hands and smoothed his hair down.
"You're awfully pale."
"I had a shitty week," Harry said with a grin.
"I can tell." He sighed. "I wish I could have helped."
"You did."
Draco smiled sadly and turned his head sharply. Harry frowned and then his hand was grabbed and he was dragged around the stairs and further onto the corner. Hidden there, Draco took his time to kiss and fondle him gently. He took a breath and then turned his head around toward the apartment's front door.
"What's got into him? Calling me to spend the day with you..."
"He called you?" Harry repeated incredulously.
"He must have ulterior motives. Why else would he allow this?"
"I have no idea and I don't give a damn," the brunet answered, pulling him closer by the waist. "All that matters is that you're here with me."
Harry's voice was filled with adoration. He finally had his Draco back.
A loud noise ended their interlude and they broke apart. Draco headed to the living-room, leaving Harry a few steps behind.
"Hello," Harry heard him say.
Then Greyback's voice, "Hey, here again? Tell me, we can't get rid of you!"
Harry revealed himself next.
"Hey, scarecrow!" Greyback greeted him. A new nickname to go with Harry's haggard appearance. "You've got a visitor. You must be delighted."
Harry glared at him. It was going to be a long day.
Draco and Harry had spent the early afternoon listening to Greyback's delusions, delighted to find an audience. The man ego had swollen since he had taken the title of second in command. The two lovers paid him little attention, burning to be alone at last. Harry had been surprised to say the least when Greyback and a new guy called Mitchell had left them to join MacNair out at his meeting. It was beyond hope.
They were alone.
Draco and he fell into each other's arms again. Kissing Draco on the couch and not MacNair. To contemplate his lover there, seated by the windowsill in a position he himself had taken so many times, seeing him in what'd become his home was a dream come true. Precious moments of happiness.
Later entwined on the little wooden bench upon the balcony, protected from the cold under a large plaid canopy, they played the happy couple, kissing and forgetting the rest of the world. There were no overlooking houses, just a park skirted with tall trees and buildings. This way, they were not bothered by indiscreet eyes.
They wanted each other but they didn't go further. Harry's body had been too battered by the detox and wouldn't cooperate. It didn't matter. Harry felt good. Safe.
Greyback's return had tolled the bell for their blissful afternoon, but the two lovers had shown nothing of it, keeping their distance though stealing glances at each other whenever they could. The situation was exhilarating. They couldn't touch or talk openly and everything was played in discreet hand brushes and small gestures when no one was looking. It would have become amusing if MacNair hadn't appeared an hour later, the Lestranges in his tow. The game was not the same. No use tempting the devil.
The man threw a heavy envelope on the table and grumbled, "What a shitty day! The Donellys and the Barney gang are trying to pick a quarrel with me. Mark told me they were trafficking on our territory. I fucking told them they had to run it by me!" he roared, roughly pouring himself a whisky. "We had a deal, 40/60 and everyone's happy. All these small time pricks are starting to take liberties. I don't know what's going on, but I can feel the tide is turning…" He downed his whisky in one shot and put it down noisily on the table. "I'll show them who they're fucking with."
Harry looked at Draco from the corner of his eye and the blonde's air hinted he was not innocent in that coming storm.
Harry had stood still for his entire monologue and MacNair came to greet him properly, taking him by the waist and kissing him soundly. He asked quickly, "Did your day turn out better than mine?"
Hell yes!
"It was quiet… " he leisurely answered.
MacNair looked at him from beneath his brows, eyes scrunched.
"You seem in better shape than this morning."
His tone was more casual than anything else, but his remark wasn't innocent.
"I chilled on the balcony. The air did me good I think."
"Hm…" MacNair made no comment.
Harry looked at the tall man and got the clear impression that he knew everything about his affair with Draco. Harry glanced quickly at the blonde.
Right to the point, MacNair hailed him, "Draco, why don't you talk to me about your business? Have you got plans for the future? You glossed over the subject…" He sat heavily on the couch, opening his suit in a single motion.
Draco slightly tilted his head to the side, apparently taken aback by the question.
"Don't tell me you lost all ambition, I wouldn't believe you," MacNair continued.
One look from the man and Harry took his place next to him.
Draco walked to sit in front of the couple with a haughty expression. His answer was cold. "What are you getting at? You know very well I can't share my plans with you, I already told you so. So speak up. You want something then be frank about it. What is it?"
It was daring on his part to resist MacNair and put himself on a level with him since their relationship was cordial at the best. They had never defined the terms of their cooperation, still testing the waters.
Even Greyback who had sat at the other end of the couch had ceased his discussion with Rabastan.
MacNair peered at Draco with a lopsided grin. A silent duel was playing out between the two men. MacNair chuckled then and turned his glass in his hands with a bored expression.
"You've got balls, but I can assure you they are no competition to mine!"
Greyback burst into laughter, followed by Rabastan. MacNair didn't seem amused though. His arm tight around Harry's hip, he stayed completely stoical. Draco, seated straight on his chair, smiled but the sentiment wasn't there. It was an expression that said "He who laughs last, laughs longest".
"Don't forget you're in my house." MacNair lashed out in a sharp tone. "My rules, my conditions."
It had come from nowhere and Draco cocked up an eyebrow. "What has it got to do with anything? I…" He shook his head in frustration and sighed. "Why don't you ask me what you really want to know?"
Harry was as mystified as Draco. Why did MacNair always feel obligated to make a demonstration of strength? He had invited Draco by all appearances to prove his good will to Harry and here he was, trying to create a conflict.
A smile grew on MacNair's lips and then his hand slid to the inside of Harry's thigh, making the brunet redden on the spot. Harry reacted instinctively: he grasped his hand and pushed it away. Almost immediately, he bit the inside of his cheek, conscious of the foolishness of his gesture in the present situation. He felt MacNair stiffen by his side, and as a way of dodging the unavoidable argument, announced, "I don't feel too good, I think I need some air."
He got up to leave but a hand prevented him doing so. He looked down at MacNair, ready to protest, but the implacable stare and the set jaw dissuaded him from insisting.
"Wait a minute, I'm not through."
Harry stiffly sat back down. Draco threw him a tense look. What was going on?
Harry rubbed his sweaty hands on his trousers and picked up his empty glass. He poured water from the jug in a long stream, the sound of the liquid filling the glass in the silence making the situation more uncomfortable than it already was.
MacNair spoke up again. "There's something that's been bugging me" He turned to Draco. "You seemed quite hooked on Harry. I don't believe in your casual fuck story. I think it was more than that."
Harry almost spat his water out but managed to swallow in silence.
"So, tell me, what happened? I thought you'd try to make a grand coup. You always enjoyed challenges. It doesn't become you to throw in the towel."
Draco didn't let himself be unnerved. A moment of silence passed. Perhaps he was searching for an adequate answer, but his face didn't betray him. He then straightened up in his chair and said in a tone of confession, "If you want to know, you're right. It was not a fling."
Harry gulped, hanging to the blonde's words.
"Why did I keep my distance? It's simple, I don't trust him one bit. He seduced me, then you. What's the point?"
Then he turned malicious eyes to Harry.
"You don't know what you want. You despise what we do and what we are. I can tell by the way you look at me…" he swept his eyes around the other fellows near by, "at them."
Harry couldn't tell if Draco was bluffing anymore and his words were disturbing. His brows creased further, unsettled by the sincere tone of the blonde's declarations.
"You don't let anyone in. You think you do but you don't…"
"It's not true!" Harry answered in a spontaneous reaction. He was about to object further but realized they had an audience. He swept his eyes aside and closed his mouth.
"I always knew it wouldn't last."
Draco was a good actor and his implacable eyes upset Harry more than they should. He didn't have to force his reaction. He was idly hurt.
"You're wrong," Harry whispered. "How can you say such a thing?"
Draco held his stare and retorted, flippant, "Simply because I believe it." A sip of alcohol, "You should know what to expect," he added to MacNair.
The latter put his hand on Harry's knee to pacify him, which evidently got the opposite effect.
"Thank you for your concern," he answered Draco, "but I consider myself more than able to handle my boy. Harry belongs here, and you'd be well-advised to remember it before you insult him."
Draco shrugged. "I wasn't aware I had insulted him. I merely gave you my reasons. You asked for it, didn't you?"
Silent looks were exchanged, then the conversation turned to safer grounds. As Rodolphus dragged Draco into a debate about greyhound betting, MacNair invited Harry out of the room and into the library. He closed the door and turned to the smaller man, pinning him with his eyes. Harry felt smothered by the power of his stare, fearing a new fit of rage.
MacNair closed in on him in two strides. "I don't give a damn what he says. He can try to drive me away from you all he wants…" He pulled Harry into his arms and rumbled, "You're mine."
He kissed Harry harshly on the lips, drawing blood, and Harry gasped. Grabbing his hips, MacNair literally purred. "I want you here and now," he whispered out of breath.
Harry was used to his bluntness, only this time, he would not yield.
"I don't," he bit out, pulling away from him.
MacNair's body went still. "What did you say?" he asked with a dangerous tone.
"I don't want you," Harry answered in a firm voice. "Certainly not with Draco in the next room. You want to rub his nose in it, don't you, but I'm not a toy to parade with! I feel sick and tired of this."
MacNair grabbed him by the collar in a sudden impulsion. He stepped closer, his lips tightly pursed. "I give you all you want, I try to please you the best I can. The least you can do is to show me your appreciation."
Harry pushed on his arms and managed to free himself. He stepped back with a murderous stare. "Are you kidding me? I just got off drugs, I feel like shit and you expect me to be all pliant and let you fuck me into the floor!" He yelled vehemently. "Well sorry, that's not going to happen!"
MacNair's eyes widened with anger. "Mind your tone or I swear…"
"What, you'll beat me into submission?"
Harry's provocation unsettled MacNair. His eyes wavered and he let his stance loosen slightly.
"Go ahead, hit me!" Harry cried out, leaning toward him. "It's not like it's the first time, right!"
MacNair lost all composure and turned his eyes away in what could only be described as shame. Invigorated and proud, Harry opened the door and banged it on his way out. The moment he stepped in the living-room, Draco's eyes fell on him like a hawk ready to attack, his fists tight against his sides and his stance tense on the couch, but Harry barely noticed him angered as he was. He headed to his room, MacNair left bereft and alone behind him.
Harry wouldn't let him touch him anymore.
HP HP HP HP HP HP HP HP HP HP HP HP HP
April 18, 2005
Harry had woken up early to get a head start on the men of the house. Draco had spent the night there and he wanted the first face he saw to be Draco's. He didn't know where he had settled, so he trotted in light pants and tee-shirt toward the kitchen. The room was empty, separated from the living-room by two glass doors. He rubbed his tired eyes and prepared the coffee. He had yet to find his appetite back, but he cut himself a few slices of fruit keep his strength. He tried to force them in his mouth, however he could barely swallow a strawberry and a piece of apple. He jumped up on the countertop, his legs dangling in the air. His eyes were fixed on the floor, tracing the lines of the tiles until a pair of shoes entered his field of vision. He jerked his head up and swallowed with difficulty, the apple lodged in his throat.
Draco was already groomed, dressed in fitted jeans and a midnight-blue pullover which made the blond of his hair stand out. Always a sight for sore eyes. Draco closed the door behind him and moved toward the sink further away from Harry. The brunet fiddled with his bowl of fruit to occupy himself and lent a bit to the left to scan the room behind the glass door. He strained his ears. Neither a noise nor a movement. They were alone.
Draco grabbed a cup and poured himself some coffee. He drank a sip and finally looked at Harry. The first time since his entry. The brunet began swinging his legs and banging them against the bottom drawers with an innocent air, his hands at each side resting on the marble. Draco came closer and nonchalantly positioned himself in front of Harry.
From their position, no one could see them through the glass doors. Hidden so, they grew more adventurous: Draco placed himself between Harry's opened legs. Thanks to the counter, Harry was slightly higher than him. Draco trapped him, his hands just beside the brunet's and looked at him with a cocky expression. He was so sure of his seduction it drove Harry wild, his eyes misting with desire. The need to pull him against him and dishevel him right there. Draco breathed slowly through his nose, as if holding himself, their faces close, just eyeing each other, their bodies intricately twined against the counter. Harry's legs were still batting the air. He knew the torture would end soon. The distance between their lips grew smaller with each breath. Harry looked at his lover's lips, so sensual, so tempting, then Draco's eyes went south too. Another breath and Draco was brushing Harry's mouth, the movement of Harry's legs slowing steadier. Then the blonde's wicked tongue slipped out to lick the brunet's lips. A shiver of pleasure. Harry's right hand moved on the worktop in a nervous gesture. A keen. His legs stilled completely, then he half-opened his lips, his chest rising stronger and stronger with the beatings of his heart. Their bodies didn't touch. Only their lips.
Draco backed up and observed with pride the effect of his caresses: Harry had his eyes closed and was leaning forward with pursed lips. A blatant call for a second round. Draco obliged, and more forward this time, grabbed Harry's arse on the counter to pull him closer to the edge. The brunet, legs now completely bent, feet flat on the bottom drawers, heaved a giggle soon stolen by Draco's mouth. Their lips crushed together, their heads tilted left and right, going as deeper as they could. The coffee and the fruit had taken care of their morning breath, and they were just tasting each other like starving men. Their torsos were pressed tight against each other's, Harry's legs framing Draco's body, his hands gripping the edge so as not to fall.
Harry decided to tease his lover then and ended the kiss much to the blonde's chagrin. He sprawled back on the counter, spreading his arms wider behind him to support himself, his left hand touching the sink and his right one pushing the bowl against the wall. He was daring Draco to come closer, and Draco was no man to refuse a challenge. He leaned over Harry but the marble top was too high and Harry too far away, so he grabbed the brunet's hips to slide him toward him. Harry did his best to hold himself to the counter but his hands were slipping against the stainless steel and he had no real desire to resist. Draco smiled his victory and encased Harry's face with both his hands, offering him a new kiss, sucking at his lips and slipping his tongue inside in an indecent mouth to mouth. Harry shivered and when the blonde disentangled from him, he was a panting mess.
Draco grinned, much more composed. "Good morning," he just said.
And Harry couldn't dream of a better wake up.
"'Morning", he echoed.
They both took a moment to recover from the sweet high then Draco's eyes sobered up.
"You scared me last night, you know," he said worriedly.
Harry looked down. "You too," he answered in a whisper.
Draco's words last night had frightened him more than he could say. But he didn't want to dwell on that.
Draco stared at him. "I hate that."
Their hands naturally found each other, their fingers entwined. Draco padded forward again and their faces slowly came in contact, nose buried in the other's cheek. A peaceful moment. They peered into each other's eyes, the passion burning deep down, when the door suddenly opened, starting Harry and Draco who had the swift reflex to immediately draw aside. When MacNair caught sight of them, they were at a reasonable distance, Draco calm as usual, Harry more tense on the counter, his eyes a bit wider than normal. But it seemed MacNair didn't notice: he approached Harry carefully and smoothed his hair down. He was so gentle in contrast to the previous night but it didn't move Harry the least.
Guilty much?
MacNair came to take the same position Draco had taken previously and kissed his lips without lingering fortunately. Harry was afraid Draco's taste would betray him. Rightfully so? With a growing dread, he saw MacNair lick his lips with an intrigued air. He looked Harry straight in the eye. Harry held his breath.
"Fruity."
Harry's lips quivered. He had forgotten about the strawberry and the apple perfuming his mouth. He smiled, relieved, and took another strawberry. MacNair seized his wrist before he could put it in his mouth though. Harry looked at him with a blank expression but inside he was terrified. Every gesture, every expression of the man seemed like a warning signal. He was unpredictable. The man opened his mouth and slowly caught the fruit between his lips, his lewd stare too close to Harry, then he bit into it and kissed the mute brunet, letting him taste the fruit on their mingled tongues.
Harry opened his eyes to see Draco turn away. He was on a slippery slope. After their fight the night before, he knew MacNair wasn't fooled and that Draco and he had to be careful and feed the lie. But he felt no less uncomfortable, seeing Draco react like that. Harry was not the type to take pleasure making his boyfriend jealous.
"You woke up early," MacNair noticed.
"I couldn't sleep…" Harry answered with a shrug.
"I missed you last night," the other whispered.
Harry glanced again at Draco behind MacNair's shoulder. The blonde took a muffin from a small basket on the counter and put it on his plate, then placed it on the kitchen table without a word.
MacNair ran his thumb against the back of Harry's hand. "You should have called for Peter to fetch breakfast for you," MacNair pointed out to the brunet, deliberately ignoring the third man in the room.
"I wanted to keep it simple."
"Ok," MacNair smiled. "Home-made breakfast it is then."
The man walked to the fridge and took out the box of eggs to prepare them on the stove. He lit the gas burner while Harry jumped off the counter with his bowl of fruits to settle at the table in front of Draco, both throwing conniving looks at each other. Draco bit hard on his bread in an animalistic funny way, his antics instantly brightening the atmosphere. Harry held a laugh inside. He kept MacNair on a close watch, but the man seemed concentrated on the eggs and the sausages sizzling on the heat.
Harry grinned.
He slowly wriggled on his chair and straightened his leg out so his naked foot reached Draco's ankle. He slipped it underneath the blonde's trousers and started caressing the warm skin with his cold toes. The blonde's head shot up and the corner of his lips quirked upwards. Harry slowly lifted his foot, running it along his lover's leg in a sensual way. The guilty pleasure of enticing each other under MacNair's very nose and beard, was painted across their faces. But it was short lived. The man soon joined them at the table, two steaming plates for Harry and himself in hand. He sat by the brunet's side, the latter retracting his foot immediately. The man kissed his neck and snaked and arm around his shoulder, the message clear. Draco turned his eyes toward the window and finished his coffee while Harry pretended to be content. No one uttered a word, MacNair simply ate in silence and Harry tried to find a subject of conversation to no avail. He folded his leg on the top of his seat, huddling up a bit.
Surprisingly, it was Draco who breached the silence.
"I have to leave this afternoon. I have appointments that cannot be postponed."
Harry had expected MacNair to put and end to his stay, not the other way around. His heart tightened in his chest. Draco's presence had been a breath of fresh air for him and this new separation would be hard to bear. They had only enjoyed themselves for a few hours…
MacNair could barely hide his joy. "Oh, what a pity… But I understand, business before all."
Harry's face was frozen, his eyes searching Draco's. When MacNair's mobile rang, the blonde finally looked him in the eye. So many things passed between them: the sadness, the yearning already. MacNair noticed nothing, and it was a good thing, because Harry couldn't hold his emotions at bay. He wanted to keep Draco with him, tell him to give him more time, but he had no right to do so. Draco had to put his plan in motion, for his own good.
A few hours later, when they made their goodbyes in MacNair's presence, Harry tried to imprint all the sensations: Draco's hand on his back, his scent when they briefly hugged, his deep voice, and it was over. He was gone.
That night, Harry stayed awake a long time in the dark, rolling the golden key in his hand.
Soon.
HP HP HP HP HP HP HP HP HP HP HP HP HP
April 25, 2005
The rustling of sheets. A soft light. Panting. Two bodies moving like one. A twisted mouth. Moans growing faster. A defined back contracting. Hands gripping strong shoulders. A cry.
"Aaaaah… Draco!"
The blonde's body fell down heavily beside Harry, out of breath. He laughed and huffed again. Harry, eyes half-closed, glanced at him with an impish smile.
"What's so funny?" he asked in a miffed voice.
"I forgot how loud you could be in bed."
Offended, Harry opened his mouth in a 'o' and swatted Draco's torso, the blonde yelping with exaggeration. Harry rolled aside, gleeful, and hit him again. Draco captured his hand, a slow wrestle ensued. Harry managed to climb on Draco who tried to pull him away by the hair but the brunet fought hard, batting his arms aside. He put all his weight on the blonde and managed to immobilize him, straddling his lap. Draco surrendered with a smile and slapped the tempting arse sticking in the air.
"Hey," Harry protested, then he completely slumped down on the blonde's torso, cutting his air supply. Draco both coughed and laughed and their lips found each other. Harry mewled in his lover's mouth and after a thorough snogging session, Draco rolled over and took back his place on Harry's left.
"I'm not disappointed by the trip," he let out with a satisfied smirk, pulling the sheet completely to his side, leaving Harry half uncovered.
The brunet slammed his hands against the mattress. "You're impossible!" he yelled.
But the blonde only roamed his eyes along his body with a lascivious stare.
"Horny git…" Harry whispered.
A loud feminine laughter resounded somewhere behind their door, in the corridor.
A hotel room. How impersonal… yet, exciting too.
Harry felt like an adulterous man cheating on his partner in a sordid motel. Except it wasn't a little motel but a four star hotel in London, the Blossoms, that and he owed absolutely nothing to MacNair.
The man had asked Harry to get back in touch with Alexander Partridge, the owner of several exclusive brands of alcohol, a man they had approached back at the Ex-Stacy. Harry and Partridge's last encounter had been close to coming to a deal, and MacNair thought there was a chance they could get the man aboard their new casino. Mr Partridge was staying at the Blossoms for the duration of the month. Why not meet at his hotel bar and talk about a new association? It was this occasion or never. MacNair had put Harry in charge, but not without an escort: Peter, the amicable chauffeur would drive him. It was fortunate. Harry and Peter got along well. In fact, Peter would have been fired a hundred times without Harry's intervention. He was a kind-hearted man, and therefore was out of place among the League. But Harry had taken to him almost immediately and MacNair hadn't had the heart to dismiss the man. Peter would be easy to manipulate.
With all these parameters in head, Harry had hurried to share his plan with Draco during one of their stolen moments outside of the apartment. Draco's new hideout was far away from the city so they had little time together. The appointment with Partridge was the perfect opportunity to rectify that. During the too brief encounter and between kisses, Harry had proposed that his lover join him at the hotel on the day of his rendezvous.
He had warned Peter the meeting might drag on and that he could take a break if he wished so. After all it was a harmless conference and Peter should enjoy his time too. Peter hadn't needed any persuading. Harry would call him once the meeting was over.
Anything for a private moment with Draco, far from the eyes and ears of the League.
The meeting had gone well. Partridge was interested and would answer their offer soon. Harry had discretely left the opulent lounge, couples and solitary men and women waiting or talking around him, each with their stories and secrets. Harry could easily recognize the escorts among the people present. He guessed this kind of recognition came with the job, there were signs that he couldn't miss: something in their confident looks, the seduction easy and intent in every gesture, the men slightly unbalanced.
Then he had announced himself at the front desk.
"Mr White for Mr Black." Draco's idea.
Ting!
The elevator doors opened and Harry let a couple get out before entering the empty cabin.
A heavy sigh.
His back against the wall of the elevator's cage, Harry pondered about the outright foolishness of his actions. He was taking ill-considered risks meeting Draco like this. He looked at his warped reflection in the doors and wondered what would happen if MacNair called him or if one of MacNair's acquaintances saw him in the corridor.
Well, you would just use Partridge as an excuse.
His eyes were riveted on their distorted twins on the steel doors, looking like two black holes. It was as if he was conversing with his other self.
But what if MacNair found out he had left Partridge early?
Then you could say you decided to have another drink, hang around. Nothing wrong with that.
Why not? Harry wasn't accountable to MacNair anyway.
The elevator doors opened with a resounding ting, his reflection vanishing with it.
A long corridor with refined light fittings suspended all along the walls, a red carpet with geometric patterns, then a big white door with the golden numbers "39".
Upon knocking at the door, Harry's nervousness increased. The clandestineness of the tryst made the moment unsettling. Unfamiliar. It felt like meeting Draco for the first time.
Harry's hand froze in the air, hesitant, then he knocked quickly. In front of the white door, his excitement rising, he ran a hand through his hair and took off his blazer. But it felt awkward, carrying it in his arm. In haste, he put it back on, then the door opened on him. Draco was standing in crisp black trousers with his shirt unbuttoned and a white sleeveless vest showing. A lapse of mind, then Harry said a little "Hi". Draco smiled and opened the door wide to invite him in. It was not the passionate welcome Harry had imagined but the moment was too strange for that. Harry stepped in shyly to discover the king size bed and its plum-coloured cover, generous matching stuffed pillows scattered meticulously across the headboard. The high windows opened onto a large balcony. In the distance, the city with the clouded sky above. The night wouldn't fall for an hour or so but the room was sombre nonetheless.
Harry turned to Draco but the latter's phone rang before he could speak. The blonde looked at the screen and with an apologetic air took the call. He paced back and forth, talking to Pansy it seemed, something about a missing key. Harry wasn't listening. Seeing Draco so distracted gave him the impression that they were two strangers having an illicit affair. He dropped his blazer on a chair, noticing the discrete chic of the decoration, the beautiful white vase with freshly cut orchids on the table, the contemporary styled white furniture and the decorative pebbles on the ledge of the faux fireplace.
After going round in circles for a long moment, he decided to sit on the bed. It was hot in the room, and Harry took his jumper off. He caught Draco's look. The blonde was observing him with an interested eye while Pansy's voice poured out at the other end of the phone. So Harry decided to make a game out of it, taking his time to unbutton his blue shirt, popping the press studs one by one and discarding the clothing on the chair nearby. Then he moved on to the tee-shirt, peeling it off languorously, exposing his flat stomach and his smooth torso. Draco wasn't listening to Pansy anymore, muttering "Yes, yes…" indifferently, his eyes captivated by his lover's striptease. He cut the discussion short with a "I call you back" and hung up. He divested himself of his shirt and vest with an animalistic expression. Right then, Harry's growing confidence dulled.
On the bed in his blue trousers, under Draco's hungry stare, he felt like covering himself up like a blushing virgin. It was the entire situation that looked shameful. The evidence of the hotel, bringing him back to his filthy past: they were there for one thing only and Harry felt suddenly uncomfortable with it. All the more so that Draco had still to speak to him. But when the blonde leaned toward him and gently ran a hand through his dark hair, all his fears flew out the window and they were gone for a wild ride under the sheets.
.
The loud feminine laughter died down the corridor.
Harry tugged the sheets back toward him and glared at Draco. The blonde shushed all possible reprimand with a searing kiss. It did the trick. Harry smiled and sank into Draco's arms. He felt sore but it wasn't unpleasant. He wanted to keep the feeling of Draco inside him for as long as he could. He caressed the blonde's shoulders, admiring his body. It was perfection in his eyes. Draco sighed and turned his head to look him in the eye, a pensive expression on his face.
"What is it?" Harry asked with a small voice, caressing his firm stomach.
"I don't like the way that bastard treats you…" Draco whispered. "Did he hurt you?"
Harry stiffened. "What?" he blurted out.
"The night I was there, I heard a commotion. Was he violent with you?"
Harry shook his head dully. "No." He propped himself on one elbow and dropped a kiss on the blonde's forehead. "No," he repeated, looking straight into his eyes to make his words more convincing, "He was insistent, and I didn't like it, that's all."
He pecked Draco's lips to brush the matter away.
"But…" Draco paused, then, "… did he ever force himself on you?"
The question Harry dreaded.
Out of reflex, he averted his eyes, and that was a sign that didn't lie. The silence that followed was heavy with unspoken words. Harry opened his mouth to make a parry, but it was too late.
Draco grabbed his chin and turned his face to him, forcing him to look him in the eyes. His features were tense, crushed. He didn't ask again. He knew.
Harry's eyes shone with emotion in the solemn room and he broke away to spare Draco the sight. The blonde jumped out of bed and hollered with rage behind him. Then a crashing noise. Harry turned and saw the decorative books from the chest littered across the floor.
"That son of a bitch!" Draco shouted, clutching at the hair on his neck. "He dared… That fucking bastard! I'll kill him!"
Harry stayed seated on the bed's edge, bemused, the sheet pooling around his waist. He looked at Draco spewing out his anger. "Please," he said in a soft voice.
Draco heard his plea but seemed incapable of channelling his anger. He stomped his foot against the bathroom door with a grumble.
"Please," Harry repeated.
The soft spoken words finally reached Draco who ceased his comings and goings to stop right in front of him. Harry looked so fragile with his elbows tight against his body and his head lowered. Draco rushed to his side to envelop him into his arms, caressing his back in a consoling motion.
"Fuck…" he whispered before burying his nose in Harry's hair.
They stayed entwined for a few moments and when peace settled in their bodies, they lay down again and let themselves drift away.
Their heads were touching, fair and dark hair mingling, two set of eyes turned toward the ceiling. Draco's fingers tinkled against Harry's and suddenly, he spoke out again, his voice filled with bitterness.
"I can't believe that bastard touched you like that."
Harry had struggled to bury the cruel memory of that night deep inside, and hearing Draco talk about the assault with so much rage and sadness brought him inexorably back to that cold parquet, the blood pulsing in his head and MacNair, his sour breath against his cheek, pushing again and again inside him with obscene grunts. He tipped his head to the side and put his arm across his eyes to chase the painful images away.
"Let's talk about something else," he offered.
He felt a wet mouth against his torso and lifted his elbow to look at the blonde peppering his chest with kisses. He put his palm on the blonde's nape, the pulp of his fingers massaging the silky hair at the top of his neck when he heard the dark voice of Draco against his skin.
"I'll make him pay for what he did to you."
A promise.
Harry didn't want one. He wasn't looking for revenge. He wanted to be far away from MacNair, the League, McCarthy. Escape with Draco, be forgotten and disappear.
A knock at the door started both of them. They sat up and stared at each other.
"Did you –" Harry began, but Draco put a finger on his mouth to silence him. He rapidly put on his trousers, took out his gun from under the bed and moved to the door. Silently, he looked through the peephole. He motioned for Harry to get out of sight and slowly opened the door, his gun along his thigh and his face pressed to the door, ready to shoot.
From his hidden place in the bathroom entrance, Harry gripped the door edge, Draco's shirt slung on. He strained his ears and heard a foreign voice but there was no uproar. The door closed and he took a peek. Draco had tucked his gun behind his back, under his belt, and when he turned to the brunet, he had a bottle of champagne in his hands.
Harry closed his eyes and let out a breath.
"You're stupid! You got me scared."
"Hey, I had to be careful. You never know what can happen…" Draco said, stripping the bottle's wax seal.
"Yeah, yeah," Harry drawled.
Draco stood next to him and the champagne cork flew with a pop. Alcohol poured freely from the bottle, covering Draco's hand. Harry let escape a laugh while the blonde drank right from the bottle. With one arm, he pulled Harry to him and kissed him to share the delicious beverage. The bubbles fizzed on his tongue, and he let himself fall on the carpet, Draco by his side.
Their backs against the foot of the bed, they stole each other's breath, their knees turned facing and Draco's hands fumbling to open Harry's shirt. Next, Draco took the bottle and drove it to his lover's mouth. Harry drank and drank till the alcohol slid down his chin. The blonde licked him clean and drank some more.
"Nice celebration," he slurred.
Harry giggled and tucked his head on the blonde's shoulder. "This is all I need, you and a good bottle of champagne."
Draco smiled in approval and lifted a finger. "And a nice firm bed."
He took another gulp of champagne and Harry chose this moment to playfully jab his ribs with his elbow. Draco spat out the beverage, his naked torso drenched with the liquid. He couldn't let Harry get away with that and put the bottle aside to imprison his lover's hands behind his back. Their lips crashed and the force of Draco's assault felled Harry onto his back. The blonde was all over him, his sticky torso sliding along his stomach and up his chest. Harry put his hands against his shoulders to push him off him, a smile on his lips.
"Hey!" Harry whined, "You're making a mess all over me!"
Draco chuckled darkly. "Oh, not yet love but don't worry, it will come." He dropped his gun on the corner of the bed and settled to ravish the brunet. His hips framed by the slender legs, he rubbed himself sensually against him. Harry moaned with pleasure, but energized by the alcohol and the skilled caresses, he pushed Draco more firmly and managed to crawl away. He pulled himself to his feet, took a glance behind to see Draco ready to pounce, and ran to the bathroom, laughing like a child. Once inside, he tried to close the door behind him but Draco was already there, pushing with all his force. Harry had no chance.
He tried to block the door with his might but finally let go. The door opened. The blonde stood there. They both breathed heavily, staring in each other's eyes, still and silent. Then Draco moved with the confidence of a feline and in three strides, he was flush against Harry, devouring his mouth, worshipping his body with his hands.
"Harry, you've been a naughty boy," he whispered, his voice dripping with lust.
He opened his trousers and in a swift motion was stark naked. He advanced again, forcing Harry to shadow his movement and step back. Draco outstretched his arm behind the brunet's back and opened the shower cabin door.
"Dirty, dirty," he whispered, sliding a finger on Harry's wet torso. "You need a good cleaning."
In a flash, he pulled Harry up against him and turned the water on. Before Harry realized what was happening, his back bumped against the tiled wall and water poured over him.
"Fuck", he breathed, Draco's mouth nibbling his ear.
In a precarious balance, he flanked his hand against the cubicle side wall and looped his legs behind his lover's back. More aroused than ever, his soaked shirt hanging from his shoulders and his hair plastered to his face, he squeezed Draco's firm buttocks with his left hand and kissed him wildly. The warmth of the water and the steam heightened their desire and Draco decided it was time. He buried his fingers in the sweet entrance, his strong legs tense under the weight of the brunet, and pushed Harry further onto the wall to lift him enough. A breath and he pushed his cock inside Harry. The brunet's fingers closed painfully on his shoulder. A tense moan. Then Draco was fully sheathed inside. He pulled out and inside again, more forcefully. Harry cried out and his hand slid against the glass door with a slippery noise, a wet trail in its path. Draco grabbed his bum and pounded into him roughly.
It was a possessive fuck, and the message was clear: MacNair had no rights to him, only Draco's body could make him feel like that, so completely owned.
The embrace was so ardent Draco's legs suddenly gave out. Harry's body slid down, Draco with it, so their bodies were crumpled on the bottom of the shower in a mess of limbs. Harry's body was almost bent in half, sprawled on the porcelain floor, his head twisted at an odd angle against the tiles, and his feet against the opposite wall of the cabin. Draco's hips didn't stop their movement, his body hunched over the brunet. Harry was so lost in pleasure, his mouth trembled uncontrollably. The blonde pressed himself closer, pushing deeper inside, grunting and licking Harry's neck. Water was dripping all over their bodies, mingling with their saliva, drawing wet patterns on their skin and washing them away.
Harry hooked his arms around Draco's back and kissed him breathlessly, the white cotton shirt almost translucent on his pale arms. Draco's firm arse clenched in sharp thrusts. His face was tense with effort and in a sudden movement, he grabbed one of Harry's leg and put it over his shoulder. Harry gasped and jerked his head back against the wall, the penetration deeper, pain and pleasure so close he couldn't tell the difference anymore. He keened and pressed Draco closer, their bodies so entangled they looked like an unnatural beast. Harry couldn't hold himself at that point: he rubbed himself to completion and felt Draco about to come in turn. He opened his eyes and looked at the blonde's face. On the peak of his orgasm, his nose scrunched up, his forehead crumpled and his eyes tightly closed. It wasn't pretty - a grimace - but Harry found it beautiful nevertheless. Then Draco's features relaxed and his content expression made him glow. It was a priceless sight and Harry felt compelled to kiss Draco again. Draco ran his thumb along the side of Harry's neck and pulled him up so they could sit more comfortably. Their bodies were aching all over but they had no strength left and the water felt so soothing they stayed put.
.
Once dry and clean, Harry and Draco rapidly found the way back to bed, laying naked on the covers. Harry didn't want to look at the clock. He knew it was late and that the separation was close but he didn't want to think of MacNair and his golden cage. He was like a prisoner out on day release. This idea soon led to another one. A question that nagged Harry since Draco's return.
Harry sat up in silence. Before his inquisitive eyes, the blonde pulled a pillow to him and nestled his head over it to look back at him. They stared at each other then Harry asked, "How did you get away?"
Draco frowned and Harry clarified, "At Reading, with the explosion, how did you get away?"
Draco gripped his pillow to get more comfortable but it felt like a nervous gesture. He sighed, eyes now on the ceiling. His attitude unsettled Harry who looked at him more attentively.
Draco recounted, "When you got away, I ran out of the room. I couldn't stay there… And when I saw you were locked upstairs, I caught up with Goyle. He was the only one who didn't come after you… He knew I didn't want anything to happen to you. He heard the commotion upstairs and he knew you had to get out, so he suggested we go outside. That's when I saw the men in black with their guns… They were too many… and I realized we were all going to die. I did what I had to do."
At those last words, Harry knew Draco had to make a difficult choice. He also knew it was his way of asking not to judge him by his actions. It still remained to be seen what actions this was about.
"With Goyle, we went down the cellar. You remember the arsenal downstairs? Nitro, lots of munitions, an explosive mix. There was on old underpass behind a well-concealed trapdoor. It had been built during the war. It was a very old tunnel, unsafe. But I had no choice."
Harry remembered Matthew's words when he had given him a tour of the house.
"It conceals many secrets."
He had found him awfully mysterious at the time. It was all clear now.
"I was already inside when Goyle prepared the fuse. We only had a few seconds. We got off at full speed, crawling like insects. Nothing to be proud about."
Draco ran a hand over his face, seemingly tired to reawaken the past.
"Believe me, we felt the explosion all right. There was a cave-in and we very nearly died down there… As it happened, it came handy: it erased all trace of the tunnel." He sighed. "But we made it out alive. We ended up at the other end of the plot of land, in the forest… We escaped right under their nose."
Harry had difficulty believing that it was Draco who had blown up the whole house. Lucius his father, Montague, Nott, the whole gang. Even if the attack had left them little chance, they could have fought for their lives.
As if reading his mind, Draco kept on, "I don't regret my decision. I had to survive. Them, they wouldn't have hesitated… And I could finally disappear. At that moment, that was all I was asking for."
Draco was bitter in his words and Harry wished he hadn't asked him the question. He too was submerged in unpleasant memories. They both had made difficult choices to survive.
But time was ticking by. Harry couldn't linger on. He peered at Draco with sad eyes.
"I've got to go."
Draco's lips tightened into a thin line, his eyes riveted to Harry.
"I don't want you to go back there… With that dog…"
Harry had nothing to say to that. They both knew the situation.
"A few more days…" Draco added while staring at Harry's locks sticking up behind his ear. "I'll get you out of there," he continued, now running his finger along the shell of his ear.
Harry kissed him suddenly, hugging him tight against his chest. Eyes closed, Harry willed himself to get out of the warm sheets. He took a breath and got up, collecting his boxer shorts forgotten at the foot of the bed. While getting dressed, he heard Draco rise behind him. Back to back, on opposite sides of the bed, they prepared without a word.
After a moment, Harry turned and observed the taut shoulders of the blonde. He slowly climbed back on the bed and crawled forward until he found himself right against Draco's back, his mouth on the golden neck. By the silence and the stillness of his lover, Harry could guess the sorrowful expression on his face. So he murmured in his ear, a smile on his voice, "I must come back next Monday, same hour, to sort out the last details. If you want us to meet again…..."
Draco snapped his head around, the corner of his lips upturned into a sardonic smile, "And you're telling me now?"
Harry's smile widened. He drew away from Draco, hands up, and explained quickly, anticipating retaliation,
"It wouldn't have been that intense if I'd told you right from the word go…"
Draco sat up in a flash. "Little bastard."
Harry looked at him with trepidation, ready to duck, when the blonde lunged at him and tickled him without respite. Harry contorted himself, bursting out in laughter, and what a world of good it did for him to finally let his dark thoughts aside!
Like a big child, Draco asked, "Do you surrender?"
"Yes, yes, yes!" Harry yelled, barely able to breathe. He hooked his arms around Draco's neck and whispered, "I love you."
Draco kissed him again. There was no need for him to return the words. They both knew now without having to say what they felt about each other. Draco rose, Harry flanked by his side, forced to follow the movement. He grasped Draco's hands and spoke softly.
"See you in a couple of days."
He parted from Draco, their hands still joined, their arms extending the more they walked apart, then their fingers finally let go and Harry disappeared behind the door.
HP HP HP HP HP HP HP HP HP HP HP HP HP
April 23,2005
A fancy restaurant with high lanterns on the ceiling, monochrome paintings on the ochre walls. A delicate cuisine and an irreproachable service. Harry was seated across from MacNair at their usual table, in an intimate corner, for a candlelit diner. The tête-à-tête nights out had been rare these last weeks, due to their conflicted relationship. Harry had clearly kept his distance and MacNair surely hoped to bring them closer by this surprise dinner.
Harry was eating his scallops while peering at the other clients, so bourgeois, so normal. And he, he was just sitting there, playing his part. A bogus couple. Rubbish. MacNair stared at him with insistence and made conversation alone in a vain attempt to break the ice. He could tell Harry was elsewhere.
"I'm glad all went well with Partridge," he said. "You did a good job."
"I didn't have much to do," Harry answered distractedly.
"It's not easy to promote a new casino, more so when a new organization's involved," MacNair insisted. "I'm proud of you."
Harry smiled weakly and took another bite without reviving the conversation. MacNair put his foot in it.
"I realize those last weeks have been difficult, and that… I haven't behaved properly with you. I only hope you can get past it and come back to me."
Harry didn't understand the man. They were still together. He was polite and agreed to his decisions, so where was the problem? What more did he want? He put his fork down on his plate.
"Why are you telling me this?" he asked. "Everything's fine. I'm here with you, am I not?"
MacNair wiped his mouth with his napkin and leaned slightly over the table.
"No, it's been a long time since you were here."
Harry blinked. Recently, MacNair's behaviour had not led him to think there was any trouble between them, at least not more than usual. Even the Draco episode had gone relatively smoothly. He was sure his act had been credible…He took a moment to gather his thoughts - it wouldn't do to spoil it all now – and started with difficulty, "I'm sorry it's just that…" He didn't know how to formulate the thing. "You abused me, so how can you expect me to jump on you with a smile on my face?"
He stuttered, "Lately… I mean after… with the withdrawal on top of it, I…"
MacNair interrupted him by tenderly covering his hand.
"I recognise I hurt you, but I'm not one to look behind. I made a terrible mistake, and now I want us to move on. And I want you to be with me. Fully."
Harry stared at him, wide-eyed. The candlelit dinner, his hand on his, 'to be with him fully'…
"Oh no…Walden…" he whispered, mortified.
MacNair guessed the course of his thoughts and burst with laughter.
"No. No, Harry," he said between two chuckles, "I'm not talking about marriage!"
Harry relaxed his shoulders, the moment of panic passed.
"No, I want you to come to Brussels with me," MacNair clarified. "I think there's an interesting market for us over there. I made contact with some people, and I'm satisfied with the answers I got. I've been thinking this over for a few weeks now." He paused and planted his eyes on Harry's, more resolute than ever. "I want to open a new branch and settle there for a while."
Harry had not expected this. He was astounded, unable to voice his thoughts.
Brussels, Belgium. Far from home. Far from Draco.
His impassivity seemed to trouble MacNair who felt the need to go on and try to convince him with his unwavering voice, "I want to leave the continent. We can't breathe here! Don't you want to discover new horizons, to meet other people? Leave the past behind?"
He looked at Harry who, incredulous, began to discern MacNair's plans behind his sudden declaration and saw Draco's fall apart.
"It's the matter of a year, maybe more," the man added.
He let a moment pass to give Harry the time to ponder his proposition, but the brunet kept silent.
MacNair cleared his throat, and his tone was now restrained, "I gave you time with Draco. I don't need to know what happened between the two of you, I don't give a fuck, you had your goodbyes. Now we can have a fresh start, you and me."
Harry kept his eyes lowered and his stubborn silence finally managed to irritate MacNair who took hold of his hand, his voice low but categorical,
"I see clearly in you, you're still hanging onto him. But you'll end up realizing where your interests rest. I've been more than comprehensive, I closed my eyes, but now it's over. It's. Over."
Harry felt sick. So his apparent gesture of trust had been his way to control him. To give him a few hours with Draco and then order he cease. Now he expected him to say thank you and goodbye?
MacNair's voice came back, as insidious as ever.
"I'm not a fool, I'm not asking for your love but… merely your affection and respect. I need someone by my side, and I chose you."
Harry scrutinized him, the tension palpable. He was at the point of suffocation. Dying to lash out, he grasped his napkin in his fist and furiously turned his head away from MacNair when the waiter suddenly sprung up at their table.
"Gentlemen, did you enjoy your meal?" he asked, clearing their plates and cutlery away.
A silence answered him and the waiter was polite enough not to pursue.
MacNair's stare didn't leave Harry once and when the waiter finally left, he declared, "I won't accept any rebuttal. You're coming with me or you can pack, leave and find a really good place to hide 'cause if I can't have you, he certainly won't."
The ultimatum was crystal clear, but did Harry have a choice?
Anonymous: Thanks for the compliment, sweetie! I'm glad you like MacNair's character. He's very ambiguous and temperamental. He cares for Harry but at the same time, he knows his feelings are not reciprocated and it drives him mad. So it's only fair he's both detestable and touching.
I'm so happy you find Harry both strong and weak. I don't want him to look like a complete push over. He can stand his ground too, but he's a broken man. We'll see a stronger side of him in later chapters. Of course Draco's a real softie. He's looking all tough and confident but inside he's vulnerable and romantic at heart. A nice combination.
Anon: You're too kind. A classic? Well, that's a nice dream. Thank you for that.
Kay: Why, it's nice of you to say. I can't tell you yet if they'll have their happy ever after, but I'm confident the ending won't disappoint. Anyway, we're not there yet… Thank you for reviewing!
Izzy: Here's the awaited update! I hope you liked it. And thank you miss, you're too kind.