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Chapter Two – Bump and Grind

Harry didn't drag himself out of bed until eleven the next morning. It had been a while since he had drunk vodka, and it seemed to have affected him a little. He stumbled into the shower and stood there, unmoving, for a full half an hour before rousing himself enough to actually wash. By twelve o'clock, he was just about ready to face the world, and he went down to the dining room for lunch.

He sat at the same table he and Malfoy had used the day before, and studied his menu. A minute later, Richard came over.

'Hello again,' he said brightly.

'Hello,' said Harry cautiously.

'Hung over?' Richard smirked.

'Not really, just ... off.'

'You look worse than Steven did, but he's used to the morning after nightmare,' said Richard.

'He was here?'

'Yeah,' said Richard. 'Came in for breakfast, which was strange, because he doesn't usually surface until gone lunchtime. Anyway, what can I get you?'

'Oh. Er ...' Harry glanced back at his menu. 'I'll have a jacket potato with cheese. Lots and lots of butter, please.'

Richard made an 'ack' sound at the thought of so much butter, and scribbled the order down.

'Won't be long,' he said cheerily, and bustled away.

Harry mentally kicked himself about not being up in time for breakfast, and thus, missing Malfoy. Harry wondered why he had come. Maybe he actually wanted to eat with Harry. But then why didn't he just come upstairs and get him?

Harry got up and picked a newspaper from the rack, returning to his table just as Richard arrived with his lunch.

'Thanks,' he said.

'You're welcome,' said Richard. 'Oh, hey, sorry I didn't make it last night.'

Harry, who had no idea why Richard was apologising to him, smiled and said, 'Nevermind. Next time, eh?'

'Yeah,' said Richard, smiling in a disturbing way, 'definitely.'

Harry returned the smile, if a bit nervously, and turned his attention to his food and newspaper. Much to Harry's relief, Richard left him alone after that.

At half-past two that afternoon Harry was lying on his bed watching a dreadfully boring documentary about sea lions on BBC2. The hotel was good, but they only had the standard five channels on the telly, and no Sky.

The door opened and Malfoy wandered in. 'Hi,' he said. Harry sat up and put the TV on to mute.

'Hello,' he replied, smiling.

'Just thought I'd call in before my shift started,' said Malfoy, sitting on the edge of the bed. 'What're you doing today?'

'Nothing,' said Harry. 'There isn't really that much to do during the day, except shop or watch chat shows.'

'You can go over to my place if you like,' said Malfoy. 'Watch a DVD and listen to music or something. It's gotta be better than sitting in here all day.'

'Yeah, all right then. If you're sure,' said Harry.

'Here,' said Malfoy, pulling his keys out of his pocket and handing them over. 'If you come back before I finish, you'll have to ask for me because I need them. I haven't got a spare set on me.'

'Thanks,' said Harry. 'I'll probably wait though.'

Malfoy grinned. 'Tell you what: I'll skip my break and you can have dinner ready for when I get home.'

He made the notion of slaving away over a cooker for him sound like such a treat, that Harry started to laugh.

'What's funny?' Malfoy asked.

'Nothing,' said Harry, controlling himself. 'Anything in particular you'd like?'

'Surprise me,' said Malfoy. 'Although you might have to go to the shop. I don't think I've got much in.'

'Okay,' said Harry.

'Great. I'll see you later then,' said Malfoy, giving Harry's hand a squeeze. He stood up and said, 'I'm glad you enjoyed yourself last night. Everyone seemed to like you.'

'Chris didn't seem too happy,' said Harry.

Malfoy's expression closed. 'Yeah. Well. Don't worry about him. I'll see you tonight.'

When Harry arrived at Malfoy's, the first thing he did was search the fridge and cupboards to see what Malfoy had in. He found enough to throw together a half-decent spaghetti bolognaise, which would have to do, because he couldn't be bothered to go to the shop.

After that, he went through the DVD's and chose Pearl Harbor, which was nice and long and would kill some time. He collected himself a can of coke and a packet of crisps, and sprawled himself out on the sofa.

Just when he was getting to the action part of the film where the Japanese attacked, the phone rang. Harry hesitated for a moment, wondering whether or not he should answer. After the sixth ring, he picked up.

'Hello?' he said.

'Harry? It's Jason,' came the reply.

'Oh, hi.'

'Me and Shaz have just been over to see Steven about going out tonight and he said you were on your own at his place. We're the only one's not at work and we're bored. Can we come over?'

'Erm ... well, it's Steve's place –' Harry began awkwardly.

'Oh, don't worry about that. He's the one who told us to invite ourselves over. Said you could do with the company,' Jason assured him.

'Yeah, sure, all right then,' said Harry.

'Great! See you in a bit,' said Jason, and then there was a click.

Harry replaced the receiver feeling slightly nervous. These were Malfoy's friends, not his. He didn't know them very well at all. Not to mention the fact that Jason was incessantly curious about Malfoy's past, and Harry really didn't know what to tell him.

Oh, well. It's not like he could have said no.

Harry switched off the film and put the telly on to Channel 4, as it was the only channel that wasn't showing the afternoon cartoons.

Jason had said that he had gone to see Malfoy about going out tonight. It was Friday and Malfoy had mentioned that they usually go clubbing on the weekends. Harry wasn't sure if he wanted to be invited or not.

Ten minutes later, just when Harry was starting to really get into the sitcom he had been half watching, Malfoy's entry phone buzzed.

'Hello?'

'It's Jay. Open up!'

Harry pressed the button and there were the sounds of rampaging elephants as Jason and Sharon clambered up the stairs. Harry opened the door to greet them.

'Hi,' they said, walking past Harry into the flat. He closed the door as they shucked off their jackets. Jason was carrying a plastic bag which he carried over to the breakfast bar and unloaded it.

They had brought chocolate, popcorn, cream soda, lemonade and a DVD, which was Love Actually, and turned out to be Sharon's choice. Jason announced that they weren't watching it yet, so Sharon put on a CD and they settled onto the sofas.

'So neither of you work, then?' said Harry.

'Oh, yeah, we do,' said Sharon. 'But I don't work Fridays, Saturdays or Sundays, and Jay's got the day off.

'What d'you do?'

'I'm a Dental nurse and he works at Burton's,' said Sharon. 'What about you?'

'He works for the government,' said Jason impressively.

'Really? That's amazing, considering how young you are,' said Sharon.

'Thanks,' said Harry, and decided to steer the conversation out of these dangerous waters. 'So how did you meet Steven?'

'I met him through Paul and Jason,' said Sharon.

'We met him at a club a few years back,' said Jason.

So it sounded as if Malfoy had been living here since he faked his death, then.

'I hear you've known him since school,' said Sharon.

'Yeah, but we weren't friends.'

'No?' said Jason, eager to hear whatever he could about Malfoy's past.

'We were sort of enemies, actually.'

'Really?' said Jason. 'Ooh, tell us more.'

'Erm ...' said Harry, trying to think of something safe to say. 'Well, at our school there were four houses, and my house had always been rivals with Steven's. He was kind of the leader of his house, and I know it sounds arrogant, but I was, too. So, you know ...'

'Sounds like West Side Story,' said Sharon with a laugh.

'Yeah, I suppose it does,' said Harry.

'But why won't he tell us anything?' whined Jason. 'You find it easy enough.'

Harry shifted uncomfortably. 'It's kind of ... complicated.'

Jason's eyes widened. 'So there is something,' he said in a hushed voice.

'Fucking hell, Jay. You're obsessed,' said Sharon, but Jason ignored her, gazing avidly at Harry.

'Look, I can't ... all right - I'll tell you this, but I wouldn't bring it up with Steven,' said Harry, giving in a little.

'Yeah, of course,' said Jason eagerly.

'Steven and I, we both have a past that we want to forget. Really forget. A lot has happened to us both. Too much. And I'm guessing the reason that Steven won't tell you anything is because he's trying to get away from it,' Harry paused, and then said, 'I completely understand how he feels.'

Both Sharon and Jason were watching him with wide eyes, and Harry got a little impatient. 'Look, just know that he never did anything that you would have to worry about, all right?'

'God, it's all so mysterious,' said Jason. 'And fucking annoying as hell.'

'So, I'm guess I'm right in saying that you and Steve have a pretty intense history together, then,' said Sharon.

'You could say that,' said Harry.

'Considering you were enemies, he was really excited when he found out you were here,' said Sharon.

'Really?' said Harry, stunned. 'How d'you mean?'

'The day that you arrived, he met up with us in a bar and he was all "I'm gonna bring my friend Harry tomorrow, you have to meet him". Really excited, he was,' said Sharon, smiling.

'That's ... unexpected,' said Harry.

'So what have you been doing since you left school?' said Jason. 'Apart from working, of course. Been seeing anyone?'

Harry would have liked to talk to someone who didn't know anything about him, but how would he explain to a pair of muggles that his last relationship was based on his fame?

'There's been the odd girl,' said Harry vaguely.

'Girl?' said Jason.

'I told you last night I was straight.'

'You said you wasn't sure,' corrected Jason with a smirk.

'Well, I won't be completely gay, because I'm attracted to girls, so the most I'll be is bi,' said Harry.

'What made you question it?' asked Sharon curiously.

Harry shrugged, feeling a little embarrassed. 'I'm not sure really. One or two things that caught my attention while I've been here.'

'It's Steven, see? Everyone fancies him. I think even Louise does, and she's as gay as you can get,' said Sharon.

'There's been a couple of guys over the years that I've noticed, as well, but the realisation didn't hit me until recently,' Harry continued, glad to explain a little of his confusion to neutral people. He looked at Jason, and said, 'How long have you and Paul been together?'

Jason roared with laughter. 'Everyone says that,' he said. 'He's my cousin.'

'Oh,' said Harry. 'I didn't mean to offend you. I just thought you were –'

'I am,' said Jason. 'I'm just not with Paul. Sadly single. Hey!' he said, as if struck by a sudden idea, 'If you do decide that you swing both ways and you don't wanna try it on with Steve, I'm very available.'

Sharon rolled her eyes, and Harry said, 'I won't be trying anything with Steve, not with all that's going on with Chris.'

'There's nothing going on with Chris,' Sharon growled. 'Not unless Steven wants to feel my foot up his arse.' She sighed grumpily and said, 'Let's watch the film. It's getting late and Steve says you're supposed to have his dinner ready for when he gets home.'

Jason grinned at him, looking as if he really wanted to say something to that, but he held himself. The sun was already going down, so they drew the curtains and put the telly on without any other light. Sharon disappeared into Malfoy's bedroom and returned with a blanket, which Harry had come to know over the years as a necessity to females when watching a film in the dark, despite whether it was warm or not. They pulled the coffee table close to the couch and piled all their snacks and drinks on it, got under the blanket, snuggled together, and switched on the film.

It was quite good, Harry thought, although in his opinion, they had squeezed too much into one movie. It was nice to sit there, though, huddled together under the blanket with two people who had no real idea who Harry Potter was and just saw him as a potential friend; sharing cans of coke and glasses of cream soda, tucking into the popcorn and giggling whenever one slipped away and disappeared under the couch cushions, resulting in much shifting around and hunting.

When the film ended, Sharon helped Harry clean up while Jason sat and observed, earning a clip round the ear from Sharon.

'You're coming tonight, right?' Jason asked while they put on their jackets.

'Er – possibly,' said Harry noncommittally.

'Don't worry. Steve'll make sure he does,' said Sharon.

He got a kiss on the cheek from Sharon and a clap on the shoulder from Jason, and then they were gone. The flat seemed unnaturally silent when left alone, so he put on a relaxing CD and set about making his and Malfoy's dinner.

By the time Malfoy strolled through the door at a quarter past ten, Harry had set the table for two with enticing plates of Spaghetti, a couple of glasses and a bottle of wine he had selected from Malfoy's extensive collection.

Malfoy swept into the bathroom with a vague nod at Harry and returned half a minute later, slumping into his chair.

'God, I hate fucking working,' he grumbled, pouring himself some wine.

Harry, who knew of Malfoy's privileged upbringing, could imagine just how much Malfoy hated to work. 'Hmm,' he said.

Malfoy looked up at him, blinked, and said, 'Sorry. I'm being rude. This looks really nice.'

Harry smiled at him. 'Eat it then.'

There was silence for a few minutes while they ate, until Malfoy broke it by repeating Jason's earlier question. 'You're coming out with us, right?' Harry glanced at the clock, which Malfoy noticed. 'We've got time. I usually meet them at about half eleven. Friday is kind of a warm up to Saturday because I finish work at eight and don't have to go in at all on Sundays. So Saturdays tend to be a little wild.' He paused to take a sip of wine. 'You don't have to come tomorrow, if you don't want to, but you are coming tonight.' He smirked. 'Of course, you'll have to borrow something to wear. There's no time for you to go back to the hotel, and you're not wearing that.'

Harry didn't even try and argue. He went back to his food.

'Jay and Shaz came over today, didn't they?' Malfoy asked

'Yeah ...' said Harry. 'We chatted a bit. Watched a film.'

'What did you talk about?' said Malfoy innocently.

Harry smiled. 'Don't worry, Malfoy. You still have your secrets.'

'You know, Harry, you can drop the Malfoy now.'

'Steven, then?' Malfoy rolled his eyes. 'Fine, Draco.'

Draco grinned.

At a quarter to eleven Draco disappeared into the shower ordering Harry to leave the dishes and to have a look in his wardrobe. So Harry put the plates into soak (he had washed the pans before Draco had come home) and then he went in search of clothes.

Draco had many clothes. Two large wardrobes full, in fact. Not to mention a tall chest of drawers full of folded jeans and t-shirts. Harry was feeling a little lost when Draco entered his bedroom. Harry was slightly disappointed to see that he was wearing a bathrobe rather than the small towel he had worn yesterday.

'What have you chosen?' he asked.

'Nothing yet,' said Harry hopelessly.

Malfoy rolled his eyes. 'Honestly, Harry, you're hopeless. All right, turn around and let me put something on, and then I'll see what I can do about you.'

'Why do I have to turn around?' Harry asked, generally confused.

'Because I'm about to get naked,' said Draco.

'Draco, you lived in a dormitory for seven years. Don't tell me you made everybody close their eyes when you got dressed every day.'

'That's different,' said Draco.

'How?'

'Because I'm gay now.'

'And ...?'

'For fuck sake, Potter, do you walk around naked in front of every girl you meet?'

'No,' said Harry.

'Right,' said Draco. 'I'm gay, and I don't walk around naked in front of every guy who enters my house. It's the same thing. Now turn around. It's fucking eleven already.'

Harry sighed irritably and turned his back on Draco. 'I still don't see the problem,' he grumbled, feeling distinctly put out that he wouldn't be able to see more of that gorgeous skin. 'It's only me.'

'Yes, only you,' said Draco. 'Exactly my point.' Harry frowned in confusion. What did that mean? 'All right, I'm decent.'

Harry turned and gulped. Draco was decent, yes, but he was still topless, and Harry had a whole landscape of that pale skin that he loved so much open to his gaze, highlighted by the silver chain Draco wore around his neck. His hair was still damp, and his black trousers rode low, his hip bones peeking out. He had seen Draco in only a towel yesterday, but that was only for about two seconds, and he hadn't been paying much attention.

Harry stared and stared, as Draco turned to hang his robe over the door, the muscles in his back and arms rippling. Harry thought that he might like Draco's back more that his chest. It was smooth and without a single imperfection. His hips caused subtle curves and Harry desperately wanted to put the tips of his fingers to the dimples that could just be seen above the material of his trousers.

Draco turned around and Harry forced his gaze to his eyes, finding them narrowed in a smirk.

'Straight, my arse,' said Draco, and Harry went red. Draco laughed. 'Come on, let's get you sorted out.'

They spent a few happy minutes arguing over what Harry was going to wear. Draco owned a pair of leather trousers which he quite liked the idea of seeing Harry in, but Harry flatly refused, so Draco settled for a pair of black trousers, similar to his own, and a deep blue, silk shirt. He saw Draco scowl as Harry adjusted his wand and its strap over his forearm. He then spent a few moments messing with Harry's hair until it was what Draco called 'fashionably tousled', although it looked no different to Harry. Draco slipped on a dark red shirt, did his own hair, and then they were ready to go.

They arrived at a very noisy club and Harry paid their entrance fee while Draco flirted with the coat attendant. Once in inside, Harry followed Draco to the bar where they ordered their drinks, and then went on the hunt for his friends. They found them sitting on a table on the upper level, overlooking the dance floor. Paul, Jason, Sharon and Louise were there, along with Richard and his date, a man named 'Mace'. Harry was pleased to see that Chris was nowhere to be seen.

The place was really too loud to hold a group conversation. Harry found himself sitting next to Paul, who yelled, 'You look good tonight.'

'Thanks,' replied Harry, smiling.

Paul grinned at him. 'Steven dressed you, right?'

Harry grinned back.

The next hour passed really quickly. People kept disappearing to the bar and coming back with drinks for everybody. Both the girls pleaded with Harry to dance, but he just shook his head with a smile, causing them to mock glare at him. Jason amused himself by moving Paul's coke to the other side of the table every time he put it down, making Harry giggle as he watched Paul stare blankly around, trying to find it. And all the while, he had Draco next to him, periodically nudging his leg with his own, giving his hand the odd squeeze, and asking his opinion about various things.

All in all, Harry was having an excellent time. Until, of course, Chris turned up. The feel-good atmosphere within the group vanished as though someone had drowned them in ice. He bent down and kissed Draco's cheek, drank a shot of vodka in one go, and began tugging on Draco's arm.

'What?' yelled Draco.

'I want to dance,' Chris yelled back.

Draco looked vaguely panicked. 'I can't – I promised the next one to Harry.'

And the next thing Harry knew, he was having his own arm tugged by Draco. 'What – No!'

Draco gave him a pleading look, and Harry sighed. 'Just one,' he said, allowing himself to be pulled downstairs and onto the dance floor.

Harry wasn't the fourteen year old awkward kid at the Yule Ball anymore; he had gone clubbing many times, and had pretty much learned how to dance. He just liked to avoid it. He found that right now he didn't have much choice.

Draco found them a space on the dance floor, smiled gratefully at Harry, and began to dance. After a few moments, after Harry had battled down his nerves, he joined in.

They were facing each other, and Harry noticed that Draco had his eyes closed, absorbed in the music and its rhythmic beat. He looked very comfortable on the dance floor, moving elegantly and in a way that Harry found a little bit sexy.

Harry was occasionally jostled from behind and on each side by energetic dancers, and he gave up apologising after the sixth time. Harry was getting into it himself, letting the music wash over him and allowing his body to respond however it wanted. He noticed that Draco's skin had developed a glistening sweat, and against that milky white, with the blonde hair, he looked as if he was glowing. Harry was absolutely fascinated.

Draco opened his eyes and locked them with Harry's, holding his gaze as his body undulated and twisted to the beat. Suddenly, a foreign pair of arms wrapped around Harry's waist from behind, making him jump. A low, male voice in his ear growled, 'Hi there.'

Draco stepped forward. 'He's with me,' he said, glaring at the stranger over Harry's shoulder. Draco grabbed Harry's arm and pulled him out of the man's arms. The next thing Harry knew he had been turned around, and Draco's hands were on his hips.

'Draco – what –'

'Just dance,' Draco said into his ear. And so, they danced.

The term 'bump and grind' came to Harry's mind, because that was really what they had started to do. Draco kept a firm hold on his hips and Harry's arse was tucked against Draco's groin, his back against Draco's chest, and the side of his head against Draco's cheek.

They moved together, their hips grinding and their sweat mingling together. One of Draco's hands moved past his hip, over his abdomen and up to his chest, pulling him further into Draco's body.

The music filled Harry completely, until he couldn't tell the difference between that and the beat of his own heart. There was just rhythm and heat and sweat and Draco. Draco everywhere. All over and around him. It felt incredible and he never wanted it to end and he nearly cried out when Draco shifted away, but he found himself being turned again, and then Draco's chest was against his, and there was a leg between his, and one of his own between Draco's and this was so much better with his arms around Draco's waist and their groins pressed together, hard and aching and needing so much.

The ceiling could have caved in and Harry wouldn't have noticed. He doubted whether Draco would either. Harry lost all sense of self pressed against that body, and when Draco started grinding their erections together, Harry didn't waste any time thinking about it and why it shouldn't be going on. He grinded back, hearing a moan in his ear and feeling Draco's warm, sweat coated cheek rubbing against his own and shaky hands pushing against the small of his back, urging him to grind harder.

Harry paid no attention to his surroundings, only dimly aware that they were in a room full of hundreds of possible witnesses. He just needed to touch and gasp and moan and feel. They thrust together gently, as somewhere in the backs of both of their minds, they knew not to make it too obvious what they were really doing, and Harry felt his rock-hard cock moving roughly over Draco's again and again and again, and if they kept this up, it wouldn't be long before they would both need new trousers.

Harry's feelings were brought to incredible new heights and he couldn't remember ever experiencing these sensations. Their thrusting and grinding became more desperate, more frenzied, and they tried valiantly to keep up the pretext of dancing but really they were racing each other to the edge of the cliff and almost dying of anticipation for when they would tumble over it. Harry's hand balled a fist in the back of Draco's shirt and a particular rough thrust made Draco moan and bite Harry's earlobe and Harry nearly screamed at the intense shockwave it sent down his spine.

Harry didn't know why this was happening and what was going to happen when it was over, nor did he much care. He was only interested in Draco and the feeling and the music and the edge of the cliff that was coming nearer. And he knew Draco was getting nearer too, because he groaned deep and low and so incredibly animalistic and he latched his teeth on to Harry's neck and his movements speeded up and Harry knew that they must have attracted some viewers by now, but he didn't think about that because he could see over the edge of the cliff, and he was nearly there and Draco was ramming his hips into his and their cocks were going to be bruised tomorrow with the assault they were taking but he didn't care because Draco's teeth were biting hard enough to draw blood and Harry was two steps away from the edge -

But then the world ended for Harry because Draco said 'fuck' in his ear, gave a pained moan and stopped all movement. The next thing, his body wasn't touching Draco's at all and he looked up to see that Chris had his hand clamped on Draco's shoulder and had pulled him away.

Harry stood dazedly, blinking, trying to take in the abrupt change and the intense frustration. He could see Chris with his head close to Draco's, saying something in his ear, looking absolutely furious. Draco looked as bad as Harry felt; his skin flushed and his trousers tented painfully. Harry sympathised.

Chris straightened up, glaring at Harry. He grabbed Draco's hand and began pulling him off the dance floor. Draco followed, glancing over his shoulder at Harry, his expression unreadable.

Harry was left alone in the middle of the dance floor, and he had no idea what to think. He stared after Draco for a moment, before walking over to the door. He paused and looked back to see if Draco was trying to find him. He wasn't. Head hung low, Harry walked out of the club, hailed a taxi, and went back to the hotel.