Title: Pretty Man (Walking down the Street)
Email: MyzticBeanaol.com
Name: SMalfoy
Pairings: HP/DM
Spoilers: Pretty Woman
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters (J.K Rowling does), nor do I own any rights to the most of the ideas presented in this fan fic.
Cicatrix: Thanks for the review – as for the bag comment, I know I had put two of the same descriptions in the second and third chapter, but it's because I wasn't sure if the new revised version of ch. 2 had really worked, and wanted to make that the description wasn't left out (it had occurred to me after I had already updated the second ch.) I've fixed it now. Also, I put HP first instead of DM because since it is about Pretty Woman, and Harry is supposed to be her, I figure that it's really about him even though I tend to favor Draco's character more. Thanks for the help!
Limegreenlion: I am flattered, thank you!
Nil Blaze: Thanks for all the wonderful comments. Yes, Dumbledore does know about Draco's involvement with Harry, soon to be seen later on in the story. He didn't let Harry into prostitution; he allowed nature to take its course. So far, he doesn't know exactly why Harry is important, it's only a premonition...you'll have to read more to find out muhahah
And now...more story!
--------------------
Chapter 6
The Piano Encounter
The ride back to the hotel in the limo was a silent affair, with Draco coldly silent and Harry afraid to tip the balance of Draco's control. So they each said nothing, lost inside their own thoughts. Smoothing down the cool gray pant leg, Harry hoped this wasn't an end to their liaison while at the same time desperately craving time away from the moodiness the wizard was showing.
Why do I always get caught by the tall, blonde, and brooding ones? Harry despaired, glaring out of the window in condemnation.
Why can I not control myself around this insolent boy? Draco fumed, his hand twitching on the wand he had pulled from the inside of his coat.
This is all his fault! They each whined separately and silently.
Pulling up to the curb of the hotel, they made their way upstairs, the silence thick in the posh elevator. Once inside the Penthouse suite, Harry gladly kicked off his polished gray shoes and jacket and opened the doors to the balcony, hoping for some privacy. To his surprise, Draco pulled up a chair and sat down, positioned half inside and half outside of the room. Draco tried to concentrate on his breathing, ignoring the view of the darkened horizon and focused instead on the cool breeze whipping through his elegantly styled hair.
"Draco, you said you never come out here," Harry said, looking at Draco in surprise.
"Well, I'm only half outside," Draco replied, staring out into the night.
"Why do you not like heights?" Harry asked standing beside the still form of his lover.
"I used to play a wizard game called Quidditch," he started, looking up at Harry's shadowed face. "Do you know what that is?"
"No," Harry murmured, laying his hand gently on Draco's shoulder.
"It's a game played on broomsticks, and it has three different kinds of balls. One, called a quaffle, is used by the Chaser's to pass to each other, and thrown into one of three hoops guarded by a Keeper. There's also a ball that the two Beaters will 'beat' towards the Chaser, and then there's a small golden snitch that flies swiftly and silently - and is practically invisible - that is caught the by a Seeker," he explained. Though Harry could only imagine it, he nodded, indicating to Draco he understood.
"I was a Seeker," Draco continued, looking out over the lightened town of Beverly Hills. "I was a damn good one too. But there was an accident, and I was unable to continue," he said shortly, obviously still pained by the memory.
"What kind of accident?" Harry asked softly.
"I...I'll tell you later," Draco said, looking down at his hands.
They were each silent for a few more minutes before Harry spoke up. "You know, the business part of dinner didn't go that bad," Harry said conversationally. He pulled himself onto the edge of the stone balcony, swinging his legs thoughtfully. "He's in trouble, you want to buy his business, and he doesn't want to let it go."
"Thanks for the recap," Draco replied dryly.
"Problem is," Harry said slyly, "I think you like Snape."
"No, what I would like is for you to get off the balcony." Draco said, ignoring Harry's insinuation. "It makes me nervous, please come down."
"It's making you nervous? What, this?" Harry asked teasingly, leaning back a bit. "Would you rescue me if I fell? Look no hands," he said, waving his hands around freely.
Draco looked away sharply, and Harry said up. "OK, I'm sorry. I'll stop," Harry said, consolingly.
"The truth is, it has no relevance whether I like the man or not. I will not let myself become emotionally involved in business," Draco said, reverting back to the topic that had previously been at hand.
"I know what you mean. Seamus is always telling me 'Don't get emotionally involved when turning tricks',". Harry nodded his head towards Draco. "That's why no kissing. I just turn on automatic pilot, stay numb, and become a robot."
Harry paused at the incriminating sound of his words. "Uh...except with you of course," he finished weakly.
"Ah, of course not me," Draco replied, his emotions hidden behind his mask, unrevealing the sting Harry's words had inflicted. "You know, you and I are such similar creatures Harry." He paused. "We both screw people for money."
There was a pained silence from Harry, and he looked away, holding his waist with his arms. The breeze from such a high altitude cut through the thin dress shirt, his jacket having been slung away the moment they entered the hotel along with his shoes. He could feel the barb from the words cut deep into his newly sensitive emotions, and tried to swallow the feeling of inadequacy.
"Who is Seamus?" Draco finally asked, breaking the silence.
"He's a friend of mine. We live together," Harry said briefly, looking out over the edge of the balcony. He missed the sharp look that was sent his way.
"Seamus what?" Draco questioned.
"Seamus Finnigan," Harry replied. "Why so interested?" he asked, puzzled.
"No reason, I just wondered, that's all," Draco said, waving his hand indifferently.
"That's funny. Seamus had the same reaction when I said your name as well," Harry said, narrowing his eyes. "Did you two have an affair?" Harry asked, stiffening suddenly. He felt a ragged spurt of jealousy spear his heart.
"Of course not," Draco said coolly. "I don't even know the boy."
"You acted like you knew his name though," Harry pushed, running a hand distractedly through his windblown hair.
"I make it my business to know everything about my associates," Draco replied shortly.
Harry only nodded, and dropped the issue. Associates? He can't even admit I'm his lover, Harry thought, pained.
"So, what would your father think about this deal?" Harry asked, trying to cover up the strained silence between the two of them.
"I haven't spoken to my father in four and a half years," Draco replied, looking away from Harry's slightly softening features. "But it wouldn't matter anyways. He's been dead for the past month, and I wasn't even there when he died."
"I'm sorry to hear that," Harry said sympathetically. He knew what it was like to lose parents – he had been alone for as long as he could remember. He had been told by those animals, the Dursley's, that his parents had been incinerated in a freak car accident when he was hardly a year old. He had escaped, luckily, with hardly any cuts and bruises except for the jagged scar at the base of his spine. It had stretched and paled in age, but had always remained a constant reminder of what he had lost.
"Do you want to talk about this?" Harry asked, hopping off of the balcony.
'No," Draco replied harshly.
"Ok. I have an idea," Harry said, smiling slightly. "We should watch movies all night, veg out, and forget all of our problems."
"Veg out?" Draco asked, amused at the American slang.
"Yep, make pigs of ourselves and lie unmoving for hours," Harry said, laughing.
"Well, not tonight. We can do that tomorrow," Draco said, standing with a small smile.
"Where are you going?" Harry asked with a slight whine entering his voice.
"I'm going downstairs. I'll see you in a little while," Draco replied, his palm briefly cupping Harry's chin before moving away.
Harry stood still and watched as he walked out of the door. He tried not to let the pang of hurt tighten in his chest, and forcefully tried to make himself forget that Draco even existed. If Draco didn't want to be around me, so be it, he thought. I'll be just fine on my own. Like I've always been.
--------------------
Harry turned off the television and lay still in the darkness, fighting the urge to check up on Draco. He glanced at the clock, noting it was almost three o'clock in the morning. Just because it had been hours since he had left didn't mean he had to give in to all of his impulses to find him...to be near him.
Of course, his resolution didn't last long, and he found himself dialing the front desk before he could stop himself.
"Yes, this is the Penthouse suite. Do you happen to know where Mr. Malfoy is?" Harry listened briefly before ending the call.
--------------------
"Here follow me," the elevator servant said - the same boy from the first night Harry had first come to the hotel - motioning to Harry.
Harry felt slightly conspicuous in his white terry cloth robe covering the black silky boxers underneath, and ran a hand through his hair self- consciously. But he followed the boy to his destination.
He heard the piano before he even entered the lounge. He could hear it moaning underneath somebody's expert fingers, and he paused for a moment to listen to the agonizing music before entering.
He wasn't altogether surprised to see the hunched from of Draco trailing his fingers insolently over the keys. His silver eyes were fixed directly upon the ivory keys, completely in tune with the instrument, his soul's energy pouring thorough his fingertips.
Harry walked over towards the piano and its player to wait politely for the song to end. As it was concluding there was a various scattered applause and Draco turned his head towards Harry, knowing he had been standing there watching. There were a few other employees of the hotel watching the action between the two, smoking cigarettes and folding linen.
"I didn't know you played," Harry said softly, leaning up against the black piano corner.
Draco ran his cool eyes over the outlined form in the thick terry cloth. He could feel his blood heating, though he tried to damp it down, controlling the urge he felt to grasp Harry into his arms and ravish his curvy body.
"I was getting lonely upstairs all by myself," Harry said, blushing shyly.
Draco gazed into those emerald green eyes briefly and said, without looking away, "Gentlemen, could you please leave us," with no change of expression.
Harry smiled gently, watching the workers leave their things and exit the lounge, groaning that the 'show' was over, giving them the privacy Draco had demanded so coolly.
"Do people always do what you tell them to do?" Harry asked quietly, a smile teasing the corners of his mouth.
Draco deigned not to answer, instead wrapping a hand around Harry's waist and pulled him closer to him. Jagged notes were played as Harry's body was dragged across the keys, standing between Draco's dress pant clad legs.
He said nothing as he laid his head against Harry's stomach, and shocked, Harry could only lay his hands gently in Draco's baby soft hair. Crumpling his fingers, he played with the soft tresses before Draco suddenly looked up into Harry's eyes. Harry knew what he wanted, and knew he would forever give Draco what his own body craved.
"I guess so," he whispered before he lost all thought completely.
His body was shifted into the top of the piano, and Draco now stood between Harry's splayed legs. The white terry robe belt was quickly undone, revealing his bare, tan chest and midnight black boxers. He stayed still while Draco honored his body, his silver eyes trailing over every inch of his displayed skin, loving the feel of the visual caress he was receiving.
Draco leaned upwards, needing the feel of those soft lips against his, but was denied access to the warmth he had been seeking. Instead, Harry evaded his questing mouth, and latched his lips onto Draco's neck, suckling needily, sighing at the taste of the slightly salty sheen.
"Draco..." Harry moaned, his hands fumbling as they tried to unbutton Draco's white dress shirt. Giving up, he could only lay his back against the smooth, glossy black wood of the piano, concentrating on the feel of Draco's hard body pressing between his legs. When Draco unclasped the zipper of his own trousers, he yelped at the sudden feel of Draco's exposed member rubbing along the silk of his boxers, exciting his own cock into hardness.
"Yes...yes..." Draco whispered, running a single hand down Harry's chest while the other lowered the boxers to the floor. Leaning forward he trailed his lips down Harry's neck, nipping the skin between his teeth, before his tongue played with the delicate brown nipples. Draco couldn't seem to restrain himself as he memorized the velvet hardness of Harry's skin.
Suddenly, Harry arched off the piano deck as a warm mouth enveloped his member, the tongue playing fitfully while Draco's hands grasped his hips and legs, spreading them for his intruding fingers. He didn't hear or recognize the quick spell Draco whispered, lubricating his fingers and preparing Harry for his entrance.
"Hurry, Draco," Harry whimpered. "I need you inside of me. I need you now," he demanded.
"Yes," Draco growled, his one last coherent thought before he plunged into the welcoming warmth of Harry's body.
The piano clanged sharply at the jutting bodies arching against its cool ivory keys, and each ignored the harsh sounds, instead concentrating on the pants and gasps they elicited from each other.
Harry mewled love words, desperately searching for completion, while Draco prolonged the sweet ecstasy, retreating slowly before plummeting in deeply into Harry's body.
They cried out each other's names together as one as they each climaxed, blissfully ignorant of the eyes that watched them together.
--------------------
A/N: Hey, I said more sex, and there it is. I just got my copy of Pretty Woman back, woo! I realized I put the beginning chapters dreadfully out of order, but I don't want to change it – it makes it more of my own work than not :-)
TBC...
Email: MyzticBeanaol.com
Name: SMalfoy
Pairings: HP/DM
Spoilers: Pretty Woman
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters (J.K Rowling does), nor do I own any rights to the most of the ideas presented in this fan fic.
Cicatrix: Thanks for the review – as for the bag comment, I know I had put two of the same descriptions in the second and third chapter, but it's because I wasn't sure if the new revised version of ch. 2 had really worked, and wanted to make that the description wasn't left out (it had occurred to me after I had already updated the second ch.) I've fixed it now. Also, I put HP first instead of DM because since it is about Pretty Woman, and Harry is supposed to be her, I figure that it's really about him even though I tend to favor Draco's character more. Thanks for the help!
Limegreenlion: I am flattered, thank you!
Nil Blaze: Thanks for all the wonderful comments. Yes, Dumbledore does know about Draco's involvement with Harry, soon to be seen later on in the story. He didn't let Harry into prostitution; he allowed nature to take its course. So far, he doesn't know exactly why Harry is important, it's only a premonition...you'll have to read more to find out muhahah
And now...more story!
--------------------
Chapter 6
The Piano Encounter
The ride back to the hotel in the limo was a silent affair, with Draco coldly silent and Harry afraid to tip the balance of Draco's control. So they each said nothing, lost inside their own thoughts. Smoothing down the cool gray pant leg, Harry hoped this wasn't an end to their liaison while at the same time desperately craving time away from the moodiness the wizard was showing.
Why do I always get caught by the tall, blonde, and brooding ones? Harry despaired, glaring out of the window in condemnation.
Why can I not control myself around this insolent boy? Draco fumed, his hand twitching on the wand he had pulled from the inside of his coat.
This is all his fault! They each whined separately and silently.
Pulling up to the curb of the hotel, they made their way upstairs, the silence thick in the posh elevator. Once inside the Penthouse suite, Harry gladly kicked off his polished gray shoes and jacket and opened the doors to the balcony, hoping for some privacy. To his surprise, Draco pulled up a chair and sat down, positioned half inside and half outside of the room. Draco tried to concentrate on his breathing, ignoring the view of the darkened horizon and focused instead on the cool breeze whipping through his elegantly styled hair.
"Draco, you said you never come out here," Harry said, looking at Draco in surprise.
"Well, I'm only half outside," Draco replied, staring out into the night.
"Why do you not like heights?" Harry asked standing beside the still form of his lover.
"I used to play a wizard game called Quidditch," he started, looking up at Harry's shadowed face. "Do you know what that is?"
"No," Harry murmured, laying his hand gently on Draco's shoulder.
"It's a game played on broomsticks, and it has three different kinds of balls. One, called a quaffle, is used by the Chaser's to pass to each other, and thrown into one of three hoops guarded by a Keeper. There's also a ball that the two Beaters will 'beat' towards the Chaser, and then there's a small golden snitch that flies swiftly and silently - and is practically invisible - that is caught the by a Seeker," he explained. Though Harry could only imagine it, he nodded, indicating to Draco he understood.
"I was a Seeker," Draco continued, looking out over the lightened town of Beverly Hills. "I was a damn good one too. But there was an accident, and I was unable to continue," he said shortly, obviously still pained by the memory.
"What kind of accident?" Harry asked softly.
"I...I'll tell you later," Draco said, looking down at his hands.
They were each silent for a few more minutes before Harry spoke up. "You know, the business part of dinner didn't go that bad," Harry said conversationally. He pulled himself onto the edge of the stone balcony, swinging his legs thoughtfully. "He's in trouble, you want to buy his business, and he doesn't want to let it go."
"Thanks for the recap," Draco replied dryly.
"Problem is," Harry said slyly, "I think you like Snape."
"No, what I would like is for you to get off the balcony." Draco said, ignoring Harry's insinuation. "It makes me nervous, please come down."
"It's making you nervous? What, this?" Harry asked teasingly, leaning back a bit. "Would you rescue me if I fell? Look no hands," he said, waving his hands around freely.
Draco looked away sharply, and Harry said up. "OK, I'm sorry. I'll stop," Harry said, consolingly.
"The truth is, it has no relevance whether I like the man or not. I will not let myself become emotionally involved in business," Draco said, reverting back to the topic that had previously been at hand.
"I know what you mean. Seamus is always telling me 'Don't get emotionally involved when turning tricks',". Harry nodded his head towards Draco. "That's why no kissing. I just turn on automatic pilot, stay numb, and become a robot."
Harry paused at the incriminating sound of his words. "Uh...except with you of course," he finished weakly.
"Ah, of course not me," Draco replied, his emotions hidden behind his mask, unrevealing the sting Harry's words had inflicted. "You know, you and I are such similar creatures Harry." He paused. "We both screw people for money."
There was a pained silence from Harry, and he looked away, holding his waist with his arms. The breeze from such a high altitude cut through the thin dress shirt, his jacket having been slung away the moment they entered the hotel along with his shoes. He could feel the barb from the words cut deep into his newly sensitive emotions, and tried to swallow the feeling of inadequacy.
"Who is Seamus?" Draco finally asked, breaking the silence.
"He's a friend of mine. We live together," Harry said briefly, looking out over the edge of the balcony. He missed the sharp look that was sent his way.
"Seamus what?" Draco questioned.
"Seamus Finnigan," Harry replied. "Why so interested?" he asked, puzzled.
"No reason, I just wondered, that's all," Draco said, waving his hand indifferently.
"That's funny. Seamus had the same reaction when I said your name as well," Harry said, narrowing his eyes. "Did you two have an affair?" Harry asked, stiffening suddenly. He felt a ragged spurt of jealousy spear his heart.
"Of course not," Draco said coolly. "I don't even know the boy."
"You acted like you knew his name though," Harry pushed, running a hand distractedly through his windblown hair.
"I make it my business to know everything about my associates," Draco replied shortly.
Harry only nodded, and dropped the issue. Associates? He can't even admit I'm his lover, Harry thought, pained.
"So, what would your father think about this deal?" Harry asked, trying to cover up the strained silence between the two of them.
"I haven't spoken to my father in four and a half years," Draco replied, looking away from Harry's slightly softening features. "But it wouldn't matter anyways. He's been dead for the past month, and I wasn't even there when he died."
"I'm sorry to hear that," Harry said sympathetically. He knew what it was like to lose parents – he had been alone for as long as he could remember. He had been told by those animals, the Dursley's, that his parents had been incinerated in a freak car accident when he was hardly a year old. He had escaped, luckily, with hardly any cuts and bruises except for the jagged scar at the base of his spine. It had stretched and paled in age, but had always remained a constant reminder of what he had lost.
"Do you want to talk about this?" Harry asked, hopping off of the balcony.
'No," Draco replied harshly.
"Ok. I have an idea," Harry said, smiling slightly. "We should watch movies all night, veg out, and forget all of our problems."
"Veg out?" Draco asked, amused at the American slang.
"Yep, make pigs of ourselves and lie unmoving for hours," Harry said, laughing.
"Well, not tonight. We can do that tomorrow," Draco said, standing with a small smile.
"Where are you going?" Harry asked with a slight whine entering his voice.
"I'm going downstairs. I'll see you in a little while," Draco replied, his palm briefly cupping Harry's chin before moving away.
Harry stood still and watched as he walked out of the door. He tried not to let the pang of hurt tighten in his chest, and forcefully tried to make himself forget that Draco even existed. If Draco didn't want to be around me, so be it, he thought. I'll be just fine on my own. Like I've always been.
--------------------
Harry turned off the television and lay still in the darkness, fighting the urge to check up on Draco. He glanced at the clock, noting it was almost three o'clock in the morning. Just because it had been hours since he had left didn't mean he had to give in to all of his impulses to find him...to be near him.
Of course, his resolution didn't last long, and he found himself dialing the front desk before he could stop himself.
"Yes, this is the Penthouse suite. Do you happen to know where Mr. Malfoy is?" Harry listened briefly before ending the call.
--------------------
"Here follow me," the elevator servant said - the same boy from the first night Harry had first come to the hotel - motioning to Harry.
Harry felt slightly conspicuous in his white terry cloth robe covering the black silky boxers underneath, and ran a hand through his hair self- consciously. But he followed the boy to his destination.
He heard the piano before he even entered the lounge. He could hear it moaning underneath somebody's expert fingers, and he paused for a moment to listen to the agonizing music before entering.
He wasn't altogether surprised to see the hunched from of Draco trailing his fingers insolently over the keys. His silver eyes were fixed directly upon the ivory keys, completely in tune with the instrument, his soul's energy pouring thorough his fingertips.
Harry walked over towards the piano and its player to wait politely for the song to end. As it was concluding there was a various scattered applause and Draco turned his head towards Harry, knowing he had been standing there watching. There were a few other employees of the hotel watching the action between the two, smoking cigarettes and folding linen.
"I didn't know you played," Harry said softly, leaning up against the black piano corner.
Draco ran his cool eyes over the outlined form in the thick terry cloth. He could feel his blood heating, though he tried to damp it down, controlling the urge he felt to grasp Harry into his arms and ravish his curvy body.
"I was getting lonely upstairs all by myself," Harry said, blushing shyly.
Draco gazed into those emerald green eyes briefly and said, without looking away, "Gentlemen, could you please leave us," with no change of expression.
Harry smiled gently, watching the workers leave their things and exit the lounge, groaning that the 'show' was over, giving them the privacy Draco had demanded so coolly.
"Do people always do what you tell them to do?" Harry asked quietly, a smile teasing the corners of his mouth.
Draco deigned not to answer, instead wrapping a hand around Harry's waist and pulled him closer to him. Jagged notes were played as Harry's body was dragged across the keys, standing between Draco's dress pant clad legs.
He said nothing as he laid his head against Harry's stomach, and shocked, Harry could only lay his hands gently in Draco's baby soft hair. Crumpling his fingers, he played with the soft tresses before Draco suddenly looked up into Harry's eyes. Harry knew what he wanted, and knew he would forever give Draco what his own body craved.
"I guess so," he whispered before he lost all thought completely.
His body was shifted into the top of the piano, and Draco now stood between Harry's splayed legs. The white terry robe belt was quickly undone, revealing his bare, tan chest and midnight black boxers. He stayed still while Draco honored his body, his silver eyes trailing over every inch of his displayed skin, loving the feel of the visual caress he was receiving.
Draco leaned upwards, needing the feel of those soft lips against his, but was denied access to the warmth he had been seeking. Instead, Harry evaded his questing mouth, and latched his lips onto Draco's neck, suckling needily, sighing at the taste of the slightly salty sheen.
"Draco..." Harry moaned, his hands fumbling as they tried to unbutton Draco's white dress shirt. Giving up, he could only lay his back against the smooth, glossy black wood of the piano, concentrating on the feel of Draco's hard body pressing between his legs. When Draco unclasped the zipper of his own trousers, he yelped at the sudden feel of Draco's exposed member rubbing along the silk of his boxers, exciting his own cock into hardness.
"Yes...yes..." Draco whispered, running a single hand down Harry's chest while the other lowered the boxers to the floor. Leaning forward he trailed his lips down Harry's neck, nipping the skin between his teeth, before his tongue played with the delicate brown nipples. Draco couldn't seem to restrain himself as he memorized the velvet hardness of Harry's skin.
Suddenly, Harry arched off the piano deck as a warm mouth enveloped his member, the tongue playing fitfully while Draco's hands grasped his hips and legs, spreading them for his intruding fingers. He didn't hear or recognize the quick spell Draco whispered, lubricating his fingers and preparing Harry for his entrance.
"Hurry, Draco," Harry whimpered. "I need you inside of me. I need you now," he demanded.
"Yes," Draco growled, his one last coherent thought before he plunged into the welcoming warmth of Harry's body.
The piano clanged sharply at the jutting bodies arching against its cool ivory keys, and each ignored the harsh sounds, instead concentrating on the pants and gasps they elicited from each other.
Harry mewled love words, desperately searching for completion, while Draco prolonged the sweet ecstasy, retreating slowly before plummeting in deeply into Harry's body.
They cried out each other's names together as one as they each climaxed, blissfully ignorant of the eyes that watched them together.
--------------------
A/N: Hey, I said more sex, and there it is. I just got my copy of Pretty Woman back, woo! I realized I put the beginning chapters dreadfully out of order, but I don't want to change it – it makes it more of my own work than not :-)
TBC...