Disclaimer:

A/N: Okay. Some things were brought to my attention with a recent review. I know there is a lot of angst in this story…and I know it's getting on some nerves that they (Harry and Draco) aren't just chucking the script and making it like bunnies. I understand your frustration. (Think how they must feel!). However, answer me this, how many eighteen year old couples have *you* met that fall in love and everything just works out perfectly? Shit happens. That's life. Anyways…long story short….I said to trust me, and you should. I *will* try to be a little clearer with the characters motivations though. Please review. Thanks, Jasmine, for reading this through and blessing me with the entire season of Gravitation. Oh oh oh….AND showing me the face of god. His name is Travis Fimmel…look him up…that is *the* most perfect fucking creature ever. EVER. I want to have his babies….

One more note…a lot of this chapter is in French. I apologize if any of it incorrect…please bear with me.

Chapter 5…………

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A month had passed. The thirty or so mornings that had passed since the night Draco had come onto him met Harry with a bed that felt emptier than usual. The first few days had been awkward, with the both of them pointedly avoiding the other. After a week or so, there was no point and they reverted right back to where they started from – friendly and familiar yet tense and somewhat distant. Draco was right…it changed nothing. In appearance anyways. Harry remained as conflicted as ever. Maybe even more so…he now knew he could have the blonde boy sleeping down the hall from him if he so chose. He could have him…at least for a little while…and that was what scared him. Could *anyone* truly have Draco for any longer than a little while…was it even possible?

Harry Potter was en excellent judge of character. He knew of Draco's desire to go everywhere and do everything his youth would allow…even if the blonde didn't know it himself just yet. Thinking back on their time together in school, Harry smiled. Everything was simple. Thrown together in coincidence and kept together in secrecy…it was like a story. It was…amazing….most of the time. But still…there was no denying the nature of the boy Harry had so haphazardly handed his heart to. They were so young…and there were no guarantees that Draco would not become bored. Harry noticed how they looked at Draco. Men…women. If Draco noticed, he said nothing of it…and that made them want him even more. He did not doubt the words of affection spoken to him on those many nights curled together in his room at school. He did not doubt that Draco loved him. He *knew* he loved Draco. So what was the problem…right? The problem was Harry's love and how different it was from Draco's. Neither could be called greater than the other…yet in nature they were impossibly different. Harry loved with every fiber in him…right to his core, like a blanket – lightweight and warm, enveloping and strong. Draco's love was intense – it bore down hard and managed to break in places whatever it hit. Harry had no doubts that Draco had it in him to be devoted. But would he be happy? And if so…for how long? Harry wasn't so sure he was up to the task of taming the dragon himself. It seemed so easy to want to save him from a life and marriage that was wrong in every imaginable way. But to save him from the world? Was it saving or simply selfishness?

Harry Potter was a good man. He wanted the best for those he cared for. This was the first time in Draco's life where the boy could be himself and not want to throw himself off of a bridge. Was he not allowed some time out in the world to see what he really wanted? If so…why was he still there? Money was no object, why was he still in Harry's little flat?

Harry Potter made a decision. If he wanted Draco to be happy with him…if he wanted to be with him without the constant threat of heartbreak…he had to let him go. Draco certainly wasn't going to go himself…for whatever reasons. Harry realized that Draco would never be happy having never seen the world. Eventually it would get to him…eventually he would leave him. It was already starting. He could see it. Draco was always busy…but he loved every minute of it, and it was only a matter of time before something or someone piqued his interest. As much as it pained him, Harry didn't want to be the reason Draco missed out on all the possibilities life had to offer him. If what Draco really wanted was Harry…he would be back…someday.

Harry Potter rose out of bed to prepare for the first quidditch game of his season.

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Later in the evening, after catching his first professional snitch and a short celebration, Harry returned home. He put his hand to the doorknob and began to turn…but then he stopped. Was that laughter? It was. But it wasn't Draco's. Opening the door and stepping inside, Harry let his eyes roam around his living room. There were papers strewn about and a few stray beer bottles adorning the coffee table. The laughter was currently coming from the kitchen.

Harry rounded the corner to peer inside. The first thing he saw was a shock of long black hair and he scowled. Michael. Of course. The man was leaning back with his elbows resting on the counter. Peering further he saw Draco leaning against the opposite counter. Harry was shocked. He had on jeans. Harry didn't even know Draco owned jeans. The boy was quite delectable standing there barefoot with his hair tied back into a short and messy ponytail. His shoulders were bared due to the white undershirt he wore. The blonde noticed Harry and smiled at him.

"Harry…you're home…how did it go? Did you catch the snitch?"

"Oh…yeah. We won."

Draco smiled again. "Good to hear. Sorry about the mess…I'll clean it…we were just getting some work done." Harry noticed Draco's obvious aversion to the word clean.

Stepping fully into view, as here was now no point in hiding, Harry let his eyes scan the rest of the room. There, sitting on the floor and leaning against the refrigerator was Andrew…Michael's boyfriend. He smiled up at Harry and made a small 'hello' gesture with his hand. Harry returned it and the room was quiet for a moment before Michael turned his attention to Draco.

"So, dinner tomorrow night. Try not to be late…I heard this guy is a complete asshole, but we can certainly use him."

Harry had no clue what they were talking about but he saw Draco nod. The blonde then ushered the other two men out of the apartment after they said their goodnights. He began picking up papers and bottles absent mindedly before turning to Harry.

"Harry, do you own a suit?"

Harry blinked, surprised by the question. "Yeah…why do you ask?"

"Well, I though you might like to come with me tomorrow night. It's a business thing, and Michael knows more about all this than I do. I think I might feel better with you there. Not to mention the man we're meeting is a muggle and you're a bit more familiar with them. Are you busy tomorrow night around seven?"

"No…I suppose that would be okay."

Draco smiled. "Good then."

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The following night, Harry and Draco stepped into an extremely posh restaurant to find Michael waiting. He looked frantic.

"Where have you been? The old bastard has been griping at me for nearly half an hour!"

Harry opened his mouth to speak, but Draco beat him to it. "Sorry about that. If I'm not mistaken, it's precisely seven pm. I wasn't aware he'd be here early."

Michael took a breath and continued speaking as the three of them walked towards their table. "Well…there's more. He only speaks French. His secretary *forgot* to mention this to me."

Harry started to speak. "But we don't…"

Before he could finish they had arrived at the table and Draco extended his hand to the man of about sixty already sitting down.

"C'est un plaisir pour vous rencontrer. Je suis désolé vous avoir gardé l'attente. Avez-vous commandé déjà le vin?"

(It's a pleasure to meet you, I'm sorry to have kept you waiting. Have you already ordered wine?)

Harry felt his mouth drop open. Since when did Draco speak French? He didn't even know. As he dazedly found his seat, he heard Michael speak.

"Pouvoir je suggère le Ch. Mouton Rothschild 2000 Pauillac, c'est très plein, très excellent."

(May I suggest the Ch. Mouton Rothschild 2000 Pauillac, it is very full, very excellent.)

Harry bit his lip to keep from screaming. He felt stupid. He felt embarrassed. He wanted to go home. He vaguely noticed the old man speaking to him, but he didn't understand, so it wasn't like it mattered. He heard Draco answer for him before he cast Harry an apologetic glance. The rest of dinner crept by with Harry poking at his food and counting the minutes until he could go home. Draco must have noticed his discomfort because he felt the boy's hand on his own under the table. Draco gave his hand a small squeeze and offered him a brief smile. When he was finished, he let his hand remain there. The old man cast the two of them a glance, seemingly keen on what was going on. He addressed Draco.

"Malfoy de monsieur.. Je suis homme de beaucoup d'années. Il y a peu de choses que je veux. Vous êtes un très beau garçon... mais je sens un ruthlessness dans vous qui pourrait être mauvais pour ma santé."

(Mister Malfoy, I am a man of many years. There are few things I want. You are a very beautiful boy... but I sense a ruthlessness in you that could be bad for my health.)

Harry noticed Draco raise an eyebrow and he couldn't help but wonder what the man said. Before he could ask, the old man continued.

"Est-ceci votre garçon?"

(Is this your boy?)

Harry felt Draco's hand tighten almost painfully around his own. He was beginning to get concerned before Draco spoke.

"Je ne le possède pas. ..he n'est pas un objet."

(I do not own him...he is not an object.)

The old man's brow quirked as well while Michael rubbed his temples in obvious frustration.

"Alors je le prends vous ne me laisserez pas. ..borrow...him un peu?"

(Then I take it you will not let me...borrow...him for a while?)

Draco dropped his hand and fixed an icy glare on the man. "J'ai dit déjà qu'il n'est pas un objet. Je pense à peine que telles questions sont pertinentes à notre raison pour rencontrer. Si n'avez rien d'importance pour dire, ma présence est non plus longue nécessaire ici."

(I have already said he is not an object. I hardly think such matters are pertinent to our reason for meeting. If you have nothing of importance to say, my presence is no longer needed here.)

Before he knew what was going on, Draco stood and motioned for him to do the same. The man had a small smirk on his face while Michael looked noticeably upset. Draco turned to Michael and spoke in English.

"Charge all of this to me. Make sure Mr. Bellmont gets back to his hotel without breaking a hip. We're leaving. This man is of no interest to me." His eyes were flashing dangerously.

'Whatever that man said to Draco must've been pretty bad' Harry thought because the deal was obviously important to Michael and he didn't try to stop them from leaving.

Once the duo made it back to the flat after a very tense and quiet journey home, Harry turned to Draco wanting answers and still quite upset over feeling embarrassed about dinner.

"Draco…what did that man say to you?"

Draco's brow furrowed at the mention of it. "It was nothing to worry about. He was a simian…nothing more."

Harry flew over to him, incensed. "That is such bullshit. Whatever he said obviously pissed you off and it's bad enough that I couldn't understand a damn word that was being said to or about me. Jesus Draco, I didn't even know you spoke French! Do you even know how stupid I felt sitting there silent all night? I want to know what he said to you!"

After a few moments, Draco still had said nothing, so Harry continued with his rant. "And Michael! I will bet every cent I own that he *knew* he only spoke French!"

Draco finally spoke. "What is that supposed to mean? Do you think he did it just to embarrass you? Why would he do something like that?" He poked his finger at Harry's chest. "You're paranoid Harry."

Harry slapped Draco's finger away from him. "He wants you."

Draco scoffed and leaned against the wall. "Of course he does. I'm essential to his budding career."

Harry crossed his arms over his chest. "No Draco…he *wants* you."

Draco made a small noise in the back of his throat and his eyes grew, but only slightly. If Harry weren't so trained in his reactions, it might have gone unnoticed. However, in a split second, Draco reverted back to his usual cool demeanor.

"I told you Harry…you're paranoid."

This time it was Harry who poked a finger at Draco. "Well if I'm so paranoid, then tell me what was said at dinner!"

Draco's eyes narrowed to slits and he grabbed Harry by the wrist. "Do you want to know? He wanted to *buy* you Harry! He wanted me to *lease* you to him in exchange for his business. Like a whore."

Harry's eyes bulged and there was silence for a few moments before he couldn't help it and let out a disgusted. "Eww."

This seemed to break the tension somewhat and Draco smirked. "You wanted to know." He released Harry's wrist.

Harry rubbed the area, as Draco's grip had been painfully tight. "Thank you then…for leaving. For standing up for me. Really though…that seems…rude."

"Indeed."

Harry sighed. "But Draco…I really was uncomfortable tonight. Please don't ever do that to me again."

Draco returned the sigh. "Honestly Harry, had I known I wouldn't have brought you. I never told you I spoke French because it never came up. My name is French."

"I thought your name was Latin."

"Draco is Latin. Malfoy is French." Draco smirked. "It means 'bad faith'. Did the French really bother you that much Harry?"

Harry absently ran a hand through his hair. "Not the French itself…just being the only one who didn't speak it. To tell you the truth I actually kind of like it. It's…..interesting."

Draco quirked his brow. "Oh?" He stepped closer to Harry. "Vous aimez que les français vous font Arry?"

(You like the French do you, Harry?)

Harry blushed and stepped back. "Really now, that's just mean."

Draco moved closer until he was flush with the other boy. He leaned into his ear and whispered, his voice like liquid satin. "Aimez-vous ceci. ..do vous comme ma voix dans votre Oreille Arry?"

(Do you like this…do you like my voice in your ear Harry?)

It made Harry's skin tingle. The words seem to solidify and coat him, warm and icy at the same time. Before he could reply, he felt Draco's hand on his waist, one of his fingers slipping into his dress shirt to stroke the skin underneath. His lips were again at Harry's ear. "Aimez-vous quand je vous touche?"

(Do you like when I touch you?)

Harry shuddered and let his head fall back against the wall. Draco leaned into him again and whispered, this time in English. "Say 'oui' Harry."

'Oui'…Harry did know what that meant, and gods how he wanted to say it. He wasn't sure what he was saying yes to…but it felt quite promising. Hadn't he just decided he would let him go? Did he feel any different? No. He would let him go…but one thing Harry was now sure of. If he was going to let Draco go…he was certain he'd leave his mark on him first. Harry wrapped his fingers in the platinum hair and closed his eyes in complete surrender.

"Oui"

Draco moved his mouth from Harry's ear to his neck placing soft and wet kisses all along the tanned column. Harry could hear and feel him murmuring onto his skin in between the kisses.

"Vous pensez que je vous endommagerai."

(You think that I will hurt you.)

His fingers loosened Harry's tie and slipped it off before unbuttoning his shirt with an aching slowness.

"Parfois je veux vous endommager."

(Sometimes I want to hurt you.)

Draco's kisses moved down and across his collar while his long pale fingers slid Harry's shirt off of his shoulders to pool at his elbows. He ceased his ministrations and stepped back to discard his own tie and shirt with much more rapidity. When he returned both of them gasped softly at the first skin to skin contact. Draco recovered first and before long Harry felt more kisses, greater in intensity, trailing down his jaw and neck.

"Nous sommes si jeunes. ..there est beaucoup de voir. ..to apprend."

(We are so young...there is much to see...to learn.)

From his viewpoint, Harry could see the head of platinum hair dragging down his chest as it rose and fell, each breath a little quicker than the last. He could feel Draco's chin as it skimmed down his chest and stomach, the boy's smooth skin dusting over and sending electric currents all throughout him.

"Pour le moment ceci fera. ..I pour ainsi faire l'amour pour vous toucher."

(For now this will do...I do so love to touch you.)

A kiss was planted onto his stomach and grey eyes cast a glance upward to meet his own.

"J'aime vous toucher ici.."

(I love to touch you here...)

Draco was on his knees now. His hands wrapped around Harry's legs and ran upward, skimming over muscular thighs. Elegant fingers gripped the sides of Harry's legs while two wandering thumbs ran inward to stroke the crease between pelvis and thigh.

"Et ici…"

(And here…)

The sinful fingers continued their teasing, moving up and wrapping around Harry's hips. Draco gripped tightly and lifted the hips off the wall and up and back again.

"Et ici…"

(And here…)

He began to unfasten his belt. Hands once shaky and hesitant now nimble and sure. With the belt divested and slacks unfastened, Draco slowly pulled them down letting his touch linger every few seconds. His words were quick and breathless.

"Vous n'a pas d'idée que je dis. ..yet vous l'appréciez si. ..what l'est? C'est les mots que vous êtes s'ignorant de?"

(You have no idea what I am saying...yet you enjoy it so...what is it? Is it the words you are so ignorant of?)

Harry threw his head back. His grip on the hair tangled in his fingers tightened. The sensation was too much…it enflamed him and reduced him to ash. But the words…they scattered the ash to nothingness. At that moment, Harry couldn't have remembered his own name had he been asked. Draco continued to speak the words Harry didn't understand, but didn't need to, as he flattened his palms to run them up from Harry's arousal and over his stomach and chest.

"Ma voix?"

(My voice?)

Draco curled his fingers so that his nails could rake along Harry's skin as he dragged them down again, all the time whispering.

"Mes doigts?"

(My fingers?)

Again Harry felt his hips lifted, and he bit his lip. Draco smirked up at him and dipped his tongue into his navel causing Harry to whimper with what would have been a scream if he hadn't bit his lip.

"Ma langue?"

(My tongue?)

His legs no longer able to support him, Harry slid down the wall and was again eye to eye with the predatory Draco who removed his glasses and whispered into his ear.

"Ferez-vous ces sons pour quelqu'un autrement"

(Will you make these sounds for anyone else?)

He snaked his tongue out to run along the shell of the ear, eliciting a moan from the betwitched hero.

"Après je suis allé. ..your lèvres ne me trahiront pas. Non, ces moans m'appartient…"

(After I am gone...your lips will not betray me. No, these moans belong to me...)

Harry's hands finally left Draco's hair and ran along his back to which he made a soft "Hn" noise. Harry propped himself up against the wall with his legs out before him and Draco straddled across his lap. He leaned forward to kiss and suck at the pale neck and Draco leaned into him, bracing himself with one palm against the wall, the other twirling the soft hairs at the base of Harry's neck.

With his lips occupied, Harry's fingers made quick work of Draco's slacks and the blonde repositioned himself to allow their dismissal. Harry placed him back in his original position and looked up at him.

"Come here."

Draco moved forward and soon had to be braced by Harry's hands to keep from falling back down. His hips thrust forward on their own accord and his head lolled back. Harry stopped briefly, needing to speak.  

"Keep talking"

At that point, Draco wasn't even entirely sure what he was saying, but since Harry couldn't decipher it…it hardly mattered. Just when he thought the earth had opened up to swallow him whole, Harry withdrew. After a low growl of frustration, Draco calmly stood and padded his way to Harry's room, Harry only two steps behind him. Once inside the door, Draco turned around and slipped his fingers inside the band of Harry's only clothing left…his boxers. Gripping the material, he pulled forward, yanking the former Gryffindor into the room and slamming the door behind him.

For the first time that night, their mouths met. The kiss was instantly deep and fingers skimmed hair and cheek and back and sides. Within the kiss, the two managed to make their way to the bed and Harry fell first, onto his back with Draco atop him.

Draco attacked his skin once more, tonguing every spot of flesh his mouth could reach. Harry groped blindly to the side of him at his bedside drawer. Finding what he was looking for, he swept it out and sat it aside. Draco eyed the bottle and reached for it, but Harry's hand stilled him.

"Do you know what…"

He didn't get to finish, as he was cut off by Draco's scowl. "It doesn't take a genius…even though I am one."

Harry bopped him on the head and laid his head back down to take slow, deep breaths.

Afterwards, Harry was strangely confident in his decision. The dragon in his arms needed room, or else his wings may break. This thought did not replace the sadness or longing that came with it…but Harry finally understood why there are no cages for dragons…they are not in their nature. A dragon needs to fly before it can claim a home. Harry pulled his dragon close to him felt somewhat saddened. He would not, however, change Draco…not for the world. Running his fingers through the impossibly soft hair once more, he whispered.

"Fly…and come back home."

He was startled when he realized that Draco was at least partially still awake.

"Encore nous sommes ici... où rien n'est différent... et rien n'est pareil…"

(Again we are here... where nothing is different... and nothing is the same...)

'Maybe we should talk now…' Harry thought and cast one more glance down on the face that was so peaceful right before sleep. 'No…it can wait until tomorrow…'

Harry Potter drifted into an easy sleep.

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TBC

I love you….don't kill me. *points up* *I* want to have sex like that…..

Please review, Love and Kisses,

Reika