Disclaimer: Not mine don't sue.


A/N: Thank you guys so much for the response to the first chapter. Please hang with me here…it's about to get interesting. I love you guys for reviewing…like I said, this is all me, so I need the feedback. Just a couple notes before we begin.

If Michael confuses you, re-read chapter 3 of It's Only Love.

And yes, before you ask in the reviews, Babylon is shamelessly stolen from Queer as Folk. I absolutely adore that club and weep continually that I don't have one here. Oh woe is me. If I can't enjoy it, H & D might as well. ^.-

As always, mad props to Jasperina


On with the show.





Chapter 2…………….A proposal?...So soon?
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Draco Malfoy awoke for the 5th time since he'd fallen asleep on Harry Potter's couch. The usually spoiled pureblood had never slept on a sofa before and found himself unable to get comfortable. This time when he woke though, he noticed the sun shining in through the window.

'It must be morning' he thought groggily as he wiped the sleep from his eyes and sat up to rub his sore back.

He yawned and looked around the flat. He hadn't really had the chance the night before. It looked like…Harry. It smelled like him too, and it made him smile. Getting up, he walked into the kitchen and noticed a note addressed to him on the counter.

Draco,

here is coffee in the pot and there are muffins wrapped up on the counter. I don't really know what you plan on doing today, but here is a key. I know what flat hunting is like here, and I doubt you can do it in a day. After today's practice, I have a long weekend, and I'll help you. If you need clothes, I left some hanging on the back of the spare bedroom door. My clothes should fit you. Feel free to t ake a shower. I'll be back around 6 this evening.

HP

Draco sighed and made his way to the coffee pot. He had to look in three cabinets before finding the mugs, and when he did he sat down at the table with his black coffee and half of a muffin.

He had no clue where to start. He assumed he needed his money more than anything…but what should he do with it? Did he want to live in the wizard world where he called home, or the muggle world where he could get *away* from everything he called home? If he wanted to live here, in London, what did he need to do with his wizard money? Groaning and banging his head on the table, Draco realized the one thing he did need to get through this…he needed Harry Potter. Harry obviously knew what to do about all this. But would Harry help him? Did he even deserve it?

Throwing back the rest of the coffee, Draco headed for the shower. Once he undressed and slipped under the hot water, he instantly felt at least a little better. Squeezing some shampoo into his palm, he smiled as he recognized the scent…Harry's scent. He knew it quite well, having buried his face in the raven hair more than once. When he was all clean and dry, Draco went into the spare bedroom for fresh clothes. Hung on the back of the door was a nice pair of charcoal grey slacks and ribbed black sweater. He smiled again. These were clothes he had never even seen on Harry. They were probably a gift from someone...they definitely weren't the former Gryffindor's style…but they most certainly were Draco's.

After he finished dressing and preening, the blonde swept the key off of the counter and finally set foot on the streets of London.

**************************************************

During the day's practice, Harry found that his mind was decidedly elsewhere. Between trying to figure out just what he was going to do about the blonde in his apartment, trying to catch the snitch *and* trying to fend off David, the chaser that had been…well…chasing him since he joined the team, Harry just wanted to scream.

When they were finally given a break, the players all wandered off in one direction or another to make use of their personal time…all except Harry Potter. Paul noticed that Harry's usually impeccable game had been off and approached him from behind, placing a hand on his shoulder. The abnormally tense Harry nearly jumped out of his skin.

"Whoa…Harry, you alright?"

Harry managed to calm down a bit. "Yeah…fine, sorry…last night was just…hectic."

Paul smiled. "That blonde guy? He the one you've been moping about over since you got here?"

Harry looked scandalized. "I have *not* been moping."

"Sure…whatever you say…"

Harry sighed and rubbed his temples…he could feel a headache coming on.

******************************************************

Midday had arrived and Draco had yet to accomplish anything. Unless sitting in a park and watching the muggles like they were animals in a zoo counted as an accomplishment.

Draco looked out at the park again from his seat on the bench…nope…still no idea what he was going to do. He sighed and pushed his sleeves up, as the sweater was somewhat warm…even if it was rather enticing. Pulling his feet up to the bench and turning so that he could lie down, he flopped back onto the bench and lie there a moment, his blonde hair hanging over the side and swaying slightly in the breeze. He took a deep breath and decided to just go back to Harry's flat when he heard his name.

"Draco?...Draco Malfoy?"

Sitting up, Draco found himself looking into a face that, under normal circumstances might be vaguely familiar, but this one…this one was burned in his brain. This face had unwittingly changed his life.

"Michael Cameron?...Bloody Hell!"

The handsome man sat down next to Draco and placed his brief case on the bench.

"What brings a pureblood like you out to muggle London then, Malfoy?"

**********************************************************

Around 6pm, Harry returned home, ready to crawl under his blankets and never reemerge. He was surprised to find that Draco wasn't there. The key he'd left was gone, so he assumed that Draco would be back.

'Where could he be at this hour?' Harry thought, somewhat worriedly. Draco was generally unaccustomed to the muggle world, and Harry didn't want him getting lost or freaking out over anything.

'He's probably just out getting acquainted with the city'

Harry figured he should take advantage of the quiet and take a long, hot shower. When he finished, he stepped out of the bathroom, again, in only a towel, to find Draco sitting on his couch writing furiously. Harry cleared his throat to make his presence known and this made Draco look up at him. The blonde's pale face took on a slightly pink tint when he noticed Harry's attire…or lack thereof.

Grimacing, Harry realized the same thing. "Just a second…" And he headed for his room to put on something less…towel like.

When Harry padded back into the living room, Draco regarded him carefully.

"Its 7pm Harry…why are you in your pajamas?"

"I'm not going anywhere, are you?"

Draco shook his head.

"Well" Harry began "Might as well be comfortable, right?...What are you writing?"

Draco patted the spot next to him on the couch, signaling for Harry to sit.

"I went to the park today."

"Oh?"

"Yes. I sat there for hours…I didn't have a bloody clue where to go or what to do."

"Oh?"

"And I ran into Michael Cameron…the bloke from my quidditch camp I told you about."

"…oh…"

"Well, we started talking and…" Draco stopped abruptly and took in Harry's sudden lack of enthusiasm. "What's wrong Harry?"

"…nothing…finish your story…"

"No…something's wrong…tell me what it is. Was I not supposed to use this pen?" Draco held the pen out for Harry to take it back. "I'm sorry…I only figured out what the damn thing was today…it's actually much easier than a quill…"

"No, Draco, the pen is fine. Is there a point to all this, or did you just want to tell me that you met up with whatshisface?"

Draco smirked. "Jealous…are we?"

Harry looked away. "No."

Draco was enjoying this far, far too much. "You lie…you are!"

Harry snorted. "If there is no point to any of this, I'm going into the kitchen and finding something to eat." He got up to head for the kitchen, but Draco called to his retreating back.

"Well if you aren't jealous, I'll give you all the details. I met up with him today and he shagged me right there in the park…bent me backwards over the bench…the pigeons looked positively scandalized…"

Harry stopped midstride and turned. "Very funny…"

Draco's smirk remained in place. "Oh calm down would you? He's been with the same bloke for a year now! Come back here so I can finish telling you what we talked about!"

With a sigh, Harry complied. "I'm sitting…so talk."

"Well, I told him my whole story…minus a few gory details mind you…and about my current problem of not knowing what to do with my money."

"Okay…"

"Well…turns out there are a lot of wizards with my problem. I told him about how I still want to redeem my family's name…with or without their help…I just don't know where to start. Michael went to Durmstang and now he actually does a kind of stock brokering for wizards."

"Yeaahhh…."

"It's a new day, Harry. There is so much to do, and the options just multiply if you're willing to combine wizarding business with muggle investments."

Harry blinked. "So you're just going to give this guy your money?"

Draco looked like he'd been slapped. "No…Harry. I'm rich…not stupid."

"So what're you going to do then?"

"Well…to begin with, he's going to draw me a proposal for some of the options I have. I'll need to find an accountant familiar with both the wizard and muggle economy, and a lawyer as well. And I'll go from there."

Harry looked unimpressed. "A proposal…so soon?"

Draco grabbed one of the couch pillows and whapped Harry in the face. "Oh shut up, you! I can still do it Harry…I can still do everything I wanted to!"

Harry smiled…he was glad to see Draco so happy. He had been worried that the dragon couldn't survive outside of his cave.

"I'm happy for you."

Draco grinned. "Well I'm happy for me too."

"So, what is it exactly that you wanted to do…and what are you going to do now?"

Draco got up from his seat and proceeded to pace as he rattled off his plans (both former and future) to Harry.

"Well…granted there has been a *slight* change of plans. I wasn't disowned though…I'm the *only* heir. That means I'm still a Malfoy. I figure I can increase the fortune and all that, and with Michael's help, do some business…maybe start a few charities…"

If Harry *had* to be honest with himself, he had to admit that ever since Draco had shown up at his door, he'd been considering the possibilities of taking him back…but now…it looked like the former Slytherin would be off to bigger and better things. Harry had his own career now, and would be gone a lot once the season started. No matter how much Draco meant to him, their timing just always seemed…off. Nonetheless, Harry *did* care for him and knew that, as excited as he was, being thrust into London was going to be difficult for Draco. He made a snap decision.

"That's great. Draco, look…it sounds like you're going to have a lot to do. You probably aren't going to want to find a flat until you're more certain where you'll be doing most of your business anyways. I have the spare room and you can stay here…if you want."

Draco had to stop and think a moment. "Are you sure Harry, I mean…after…"

"Yes, I'm sure. No matter what, I don't want you wandering around muggle London all by yourself."

Draco thought over it a moment before answering him. "Okay…but only if you let me half the bills with you while I'm here…I don't like being in *anyone's* debt."

Harry put his hands up. "Hey, fine with me…not all of us are *made* of money."

Draco smirked and Harry was actually happy to see it. "I'm not made of money, Harry…you of all people should know that I am indeed flesh and blood."

Harry rolled his eyes and stood up, heading for the kitchen. Draco could hear the banging of cabinets and random swear words coming from Harry's direction before the frustrated seeker came out of the kitchen and picked up the phone. Harry had expected Draco to be confused about the telephone, but he seemed to know what it was.

"You're familiar with a phone?"

Draco flopped back down on the sofa and crossed his arms. "I wouldn't say 'familiar' as I've never used one…but I am somewhat educated on muggle inventions…not *all* Slytherins are purebloods you know."

"Oh…well…I'm going to order some food, but not from that last place…they never showed up last night. Do you want anything?"

"No thank you…I ate earlier with Michael."

Again Harry rolled his eyes, as a part of him secretly wished he could just lock Draco up in his flat so that no one else could ever have him.

Later, after Harry had acquired sustenance, the two sat on the sofa somewhat awkwardly, watching television. For all the indifference Draco had shown the telephone, he seemed fascinated by the TV. Every few minutes he would turn to Harry and point out some horribly obvious fact as if it were a miracle. ("It's like a photo…but they *talk*!") And Harry would just nod and smile, and force himself not to pat Draco's head like a child. Harry considered Draco lucky to have such a distraction, as all he could think about was how weird it felt to sit next to the blonde and not touch him. Figuring the awkwardness wouldn't lessen any that night, he prepared to leave for bed and let Draco marvel at the telly.

'Maybe I'll save the remote for tomorrow…don't want that pretty head to explode.' Harry thought with a chuckle.

"Draco, when you want to go to bed, just press that red button on the set okay?"

Draco just nodded without turning his attention away from the infomercials while Harry headed for his bedroom where he would take off his t-shirt and glasses, turn down his bed, set his alarm and bang his head against a wall before falling off to sleep.

********************************************************

When Harry woke up the next morning, he knew something was…different. Patting his hand around on his bedside table until he found his glasses and promptly placing them on his face, he tried to figure out what it was. Yawning and sitting up he tried to remember why he had set his alarm for such an early hour when he was off. Then it hit him. Draco. He was there…in the next room.

'Oh…that…'

Groaning, Harry pushed away his covers and left his room to wake Draco. Padding to the spare bedroom door, a thought occurred to Harry…how was he supposed to do this? He could knock…obviously, but what if the knock didn't wake Draco…was he supposed to just walk in? Deciding to just try knocking first, Harry lifted his hand to the door.

*knock knock*

No answer.

*knock knock*

Still no answer.

Sighing, Harry opened the door peered at the bed.

"Draco, it's time to get up."

No response.

"Draco! C'mon…I don't wanna come over there."

A voice from behind Harry made him jump in surprise.

"Well I don't want you to come over here either!"

Turning around, Harry gulped at the blonde standing in front of him wrapped in a towel. His platinum hair still wet and dripping a few stray beads of water on his skin every few seconds.

"Jesus Draco…you scared me…don't go sneaking up on people like that, it'll get you smacked!"

Shaking his head and flinging drops of water onto Harry, Draco looked at his bed tousled host. "Promise?"

With a snort, Harry chose to pursue *other* topics of conversation. "Get dressed while I take a shower. We're going to Gringotts to get some of your money so we can convert it to pounds. You're going to need at least part of it on you."

Draco nodded and the two parted ways to get ready for the day ahead.

*************************************************

After a week of awkward almost-domesticity, Draco and Harry seemed to find their niche with each other. Draco managed to find both a lawyer and an accountant (Michael's suggestions of course) and had a very good start to doing some very lucrative business. Harry had to begrudgingly admit that feeling any jealousy towards the handsome German born wizard was unnecessary. He had come to Harry's flat with some paperwork for Draco to sign and brought his significant other with him, as the two were on their way to dinner when they stopped by. And Harry was pleased to acknowledge that the couple was obviously two steps away from picking out china and finding a woman to carry their child. Still, whenever Harry saw him or heard his name he couldn't get the image of he and Draco down by a lake out of his head.

Upon the following Friday, when Harry returned home from practice glad that he had the rest of the weekend off, he was startled to find shopping bags all over his apartment.

"Draco?" he called out.

The blonde came sauntering in with a huge smile on his face which confused Harry even more.

"What is all this?"

"I officially started Malfoy Enterprises today, and I felt I needed a wardrobe update."

Harry scratched his head. "That's fantastic…what is it again?"

Draco smirked at Harry and cocked his head to the side. "Well Harry…what am I really good at?"

"Shopping apparently"

"Other than that…"

Harry quirked a raven brow. "Blow jobs?"

Draco mimicked the gesture. "Why thank you…but no…other than that?"

"Being an evil bastard?"

Draco steepled his fingers and kept his brow in place. "I am aren't I? But no!"

Harry shrugged. "Well then I don't know…sorry"

Draco made an exasperated sigh. "Well…I've always been told I'm a bit too critical. I tend to look at things…or people…and point out everything that's wrong."

"And?"

"So, I'll take my insanely huge pile of money and rescue some poor little companies, wizard and muggle, from going under. They give me a share in the profits, I fix the company to benefit man and wizard kind along with donating to and starting a few charities."

As professional as it was, it sounded like a lot of work to Harry. "That's great and all…but won't that be a lot of work? And, no offense, but it doesn't really sound like your heart's in it…"

Draco rolled his eyes and leaned against the wall, crossing his arms as he did so. "Of course it'll be a lot of work, that's why I have to hire a staff. And as far as my heart being in it…this is the most promising idea I've found yet…I'm just a bit nervous."

"Okay then…I take it you'll be finding a flat soon then?"

Draco nodded. "Yes, I talked to Michael about it, and I think I'll stay here in London…I like it here."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Of course."

Even though he didn't feel as jealous anymore, Harry still thought this Michael guy was taking up an awful lot of Draco's time. But then again, he had seen the man work…and he knew his stuff. And if Draco insisted on being a business man, at least he seemed to be doing it right. Draco crossed the distance between them and placed a hand on Harry's shoulder snapping the seeker back to reality.

"I think we should celebrate!"

Draco's statement was just that…a statement, not a question. Harry nodded and pointed towards the shower, indicating that he needed to clean himself first.

When Harry stepped out of the bathroom (having remembered his robe this time) he was shocked to see not only Draco, but David, his chaser in more ways than one sitting on his sofa.

"Draco?" Harry questioned, but before Draco could answer, the sandy haired chaser shifted his sky blue gaze over towards Harry.

"Why, Harry Potter…no wonder you never go out with any of us, I wouldn't either with this one at home. Shame on you for keeping him locked up here though…didn't your mother tell you that it's polite to share?"

Extremely annoyed and unimpressed with David's attempt to be charming, Harry stared at him fixedly and spoke in a deadpan voice.

"My mother's dead."

This stunned the room to silence for a moment. The stillness did not last long though, as David, ever persistent, leapt up from his seat on the couch and strode over to the robed Harry. He placed his tanned forearms on Harry's shoulders and looked him in the face.

"Sorry to have disturbed you, Mr. Potter, I just came by to tell you that a few of us are going to Babylon. I wanted to see if you wanted to leave your cave for once."

Harry shrugged out from under the arms. "Ever heard of a phone?"

The chaser smirked, although it seemed, to Harry, sub-par. "Phones are so impersonal, besides…I don't have your number…unless you want to give it to me."

"You're here now, so I hardly see the point. And to answer your other query, no…we're busy."

Draco, eager to experience more of his new home, piped up much to Harry's aggravation.

"No we're not! I was just saying that we should go out and celebrate."

David smiled and ran a hand though his slightly curly hair before crossing his arms over his chest.

"Well then, that settles it. I'll expect to see you by 9 then. Ta!"

After the other man had left, Harry turned to glare at Draco. "I hate you."

The former Slytherin just snorted and smiled sweetly at him. "No you don't…now get dressed."

****************************************************

At half past nine, two very fetching boys entered a very noisy club. Harry looked irritated in his simple jeans and black t-shirt, while Draco looked both excited and overwhelmed in a more complicated ensemble of black slacks and a grey button down shirt. Unconsciously, Draco found himself clutching Harry's arm to keep from getting separated. Harry didn't particularly mind, as he'd had to remind himself of all the reasons *not* to attack Draco when he laid eyes on what the pureblood intended on wearing. The dark grey shirt seemed tailored to him (as it most likely was) and the sleeves managed to just skim his knuckles, right above his fingertips. Trying to refocus his thoughts, Harry turned to him.

"Do you ever wear any other colors other than black and grey?"

Still looking around wide eyed, Draco answered him, shouting slightly over the music. "Not usually."

Having really no clue why people even came here in the first place, Harry decided that if he were going to have anything other than a *miserable* time, he'd have to visit the bar. He steered himself and Draco towards the bartender.

After ordering himself a double shot of straight scotch, and Draco the same, as the blonde *insisted* he could go shot for shot with him, Harry leaned back against the bar. Draco seemed to be loosening up a bit and after throwing his shots back like a champ, the beautiful boy with the grey gaze turned towards his former lover.

"You look like you've been here before."

Harry nodded. "Yeah…got dragged here a couple times before you showed up on my doorstep."

"Ah…you look like you hate it."

Before Harry could tell Draco that he didn't just *look* like he hated it, David rushed over and planted himself between the two of them and told the bartender that the next round was on him.

"Hmmm, Boy-Who-Never-Has-Any-Fun, I was worried you wouldn't come." He turned his attention to Draco. "And I'm extremely glad to see you too. Tell me…I heard Harry call you Draco earlier, you wouldn't happen to be Draco Malfoy would you?"

Draco nodded and tossed back his next two shots when they arrived; Harry and David doing the same. All three of the men made a face before David continued questioning Draco.

"So what exactly are you doing here? I mean…I wasn't aware you were…"

Draco cut him off. "Long story."

The chaser took full advantage of the loud music to lean into Draco and whisper into his ear. "Well…if you ever feel like sharing…"

Harry had to force himself not to crush his glass in his hand. He thought he would be happy to have David's attention averted elsewhere…but not to Draco. Much to his chagrin, David turned back around and threw an arm around Harry's shoulder.

"Dance with me Potter."

Removing the hand, Harry let out a very firm "No."

"Oh please!"

"No"

Predictably, David turned his attentions to Draco. "What about you?"

Draco stole a glance at Harry. "I don't think…"

His refusal was cut short by Harry. "Go ahead, live a little…or whatever."

Without even being given the chance to answer, Draco was dragged off to the dance floor by a very eager professional quidditch player.

Harry tried not to stare…he really did. He tried…and failed. He was awash with emotions, and the alcohol swimming in his bloodstream seemed to intensify all of them. Between old fashioned jealousy and just being simply transfixed by how amazingly graceful Draco looked when he danced, Harry questioned all the decisions he had made recently. Still staring, he noted that Draco had a rare breed of masculine poise…truly a feat to be admired. And admired it was…quite noticeably by several people. Harry was so intent of brooding, he actually completely ignored being hit on three times himself, not even noticing the other men there. After fifteen minutes of sitting alone, he ordered another drink and relocated to a spot where he could see better – the balcony. After all…if he was going to be a voyeur, he might as well do it right.

Not caring whether or not he'd actually gone crazy, Harry began a conversation, of sorts, with himself.

'I swear to god…if I see him touch Draco again…'

'Why do you care? Do you want him?'

'It's not a question of wanting him'

'Well, if you aren't *claiming* him…who are you to be so possessive? Is he not a grown man?'

'But…'

'No buts!'

'Oh piss off!.'


Focusing his attention back on the dance floor, after questioning his sanity, Harry noticed David turn around and put something in his mouth. Snorting and rolling his eyes, Harry turned around to set his empty glass on a table – and in doing so missed seeing his teammate shove his tongue into Draco's mouth. He also missed seeing Draco push the man away and make a 'no' gesture with his hands. A few minutes later, though, he *did* see Draco almost fall over and grip onto David for support.

'He didn't have that much to drink. He was fine at the bar and I haven't seen him drink anything else since then…'

Then, from two flights up and across the vast club, Harry saw David, who continued to support a laughing and leaning Draco, hook his fingers into the former Slytherin's belt loops and lead him towards the back.

*************************************************

TBC

I love you guys…don't kill. Just remember…if you kill me (OR send too many ankle biting smurfs) there will be no more story and it'll end *here*…do you really want that?

Now hit the button and tell me how much you hate me, I know you're dying to.

Love and Kisses (trust me, okay?),

Reika