The mere sight of Austin Li made Harry shiver. He'd been warned about him. When he first started appearing on the scene, a cute twenty year old had showed him the ropes. Despite an unwritten rule of not associating with new tricks in case they move in on your patch, perhaps this twenty year old sensed his time was up and he had to move onto another area. This was, after all, notoriously known for chicken hawkers.

And the first thing that the guy had muttered to him was, "Stay away from that dude."

Harry turned in the direction he was nodding in and saw a tall Chinese boy with a cap rammed onto his head backwards. He was dressed in the latest fashion and looked like a model with his perfectly flawless skin.

"Why?" asked Harry. The guy turned to him. "He's crazy," he replied. Harry never saw that guy again, but he was certainly glad for the advice. He'd watched many new tricks befriend Austin, only for them to disappear for a couple of days. Only after then did they return, bruises slowly fading and cuts almost healed. Nobody spoke about it but the fact they kept their distance away from him afterwards proved him to be a threat Harry didn't want to get involved in.

Austin passed him, giving him a slight nod. Harry didn't move a muscle in case he thought it a friendly gesture. Friends equalled suicide in Austin's language. He was about to spark up a cigarette when someone behind let out a low whistle. He turned around to see what was going on and then followed the whistler's gaze in front of him. He stopped in mid-light as he stared open mouthed at the white limousine that was slowly halting to a stop. The sleek vehicle looked out of place parked in the dingy street.

Harry was suddenly aware that the level of seductiveness had been turned up to maximum strength. He started to pose sexily against the wall, his hands pinned against the wall by his back and his legs spread apart hungrily. His heartbeat quickened as the guy got out. He wasn't a looker, but he could deal with that. He was obviously loaded and that's all what mattered. He could make a fortune out of this guy.

His heartbeat drummed quicker as the guy started to walk in his direction. Harry wasn't a muscle boy or a virgin but he did have the advantage of his boyish looks, and he was easily the youngest looking person in the street. He thanked god that the sixteen year old had shacked up with a regular trick earlier that night and that the alleged fourteen year old had taken so many drugs in his preteen years that he looked about thirty years old.

The man stopped in front of him and surveyed him, giving him the once over. He'd reeled him over, now he had to get him to take him home. Harry leant in slowly, ready to kiss him fully on the lips, slipping his tongue onto his. But the guy jerked away quickly.

"You're not for me, you're for my boss. Get in," he said directly. Harry found his heart plummeting in spite of the situation. Shit, for his boss? This guy was practically ancient, how much fucking older was his boss going to be? He was probably on a life support machine. Oh well, maybe he could get lucky and the dinosaur would die, leaving everything in his will to the dear, sweet trick that took care of his tiny, shrivelled-up cock one last time.

The limo pulled away and Harry sank back into his seat. He felt like royalty, he could certainly get used to this. He got himself mentally prepared. He had to make a great impression, he seriously needed this geriatric to take to him. But his seductive plans flew out the window as the limo pulled up to large iron gates which guarded a most majestic building.

"The Malfoy mansion?" he asked incredulously. He let out an disbelieving half-chuckle, half-gasp. "The Malfoy Mansion?" he repeated again.

The driver didn't answer as he pulled to a stop. Neither spoke any words as they climbed the marble spiral staircase to the third floor.

"I'm for Lucius Malfoy," Harry mused out loud, a small smile playing upon his lips. To think, Draco's dad was a closet cased queer.

"Master and Mistress Malfoy are currently away on a business trip," the driver informed him curtly as they came to a halt outside a room. The situation dawned on Harry.

"Then I'm for ..." The driver pushed the double doors open and Harry took in the overall unchanged sight of the blonde boy he hadn't seen for a year now.

"Draco?" he finished with a wide grin.

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Eleven months earlier.

Harry Potter. The boy who he so admired. The boy who he even feared a little. While Draco had everything in the materialistic sense, Harry was the one who had everything going for him. All the girls fawned after him and the guys respected him. He wasn't a hard knock, but nobody messed with him. He was so mysterious, so full of allure and unknown history that nobody gave him any hassle.

Not that he didn't dish it out. Not a bully in the exact sense, Harry enjoyed picking up on people's weak spots and using them to his own advantage. He also made sure he was always top dog and brought down the competition any way that he could. Never did he think he was any competition to Harry. But that afternoon, having just said left Pansy in the canteen, Harry strolled over to him with his best friend Ron.

"Hi," he said nicely, giving him a bright smile. Draco looked around, unconvinced he could be talking to him.

"H-Hi," he stammered back nervously, feeling uncomfortable with the unprovoked scowls Ron was sending his way.

"How are you doing ... Derek, is it?"

"Er, it's Draco."

Harry seemed unfazed. "What's Draco?"

"My name."

Harry thought about this for a moment before breaking into a wide smile. "Cute." Draco blinked in a confused manner while Ron folded his arms grumpily, exaggerating loud sighs.

"So when did you become such a hottie?" Draco struggled to keep his jaw dropping open at Harry's bluntness. Did Harry Potter just call him hot? Shit, no fucking way!

"I guess it's because you've grew into your nose now though, right?" Harry giggled almost apologetically. "Well, almost," he added.

Draco felt his cheeks burning up. "W-what?" he said.

"Oh, I'm sorry, you're not hung up about it are you?" Harry gabbled. Draco tried to stutter a reply but Harry pressed on.

"It's not plastic surgery is it?" Harry reached out a hand and stroked the tip of his nose tenderly. "If it is they didn't do a good job." He gave a little shrug. "It's a shame really, without it you'd almost be flawless."

Draco started in open mouthed shock while Harry gave him a huge smile and a little wave.

"I might see you later Drake," he shouted, walking away.

He whispered something to Ron who laughed loudly. Draco watched as they both looked over their shoulders and openly smirked at him. He had never felt so fucking paranoid in his life. He immediately rushed off to a mirror and examined his face. His nose wasn't big was it? Well, it did look bigger now that Harry had mentioned it, but was it abnormally huge? Was it noticeable? Did people talk about it? For the rest of the day he was convinced that people knew. He was sure that every whisper, every look thrown his way, every giggle uttered was related to him. His entire-self esteem was killed from that one minute conversation and Harry Potter knew it.

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"Draco," Harry repeated, smiling wickedly at the boy in front of him. Draco was in complete shock. He had heard the limo pull up in his driveway and heard voices downstairs. He had quickly stripped off down to his boxers and now wished he hadn't as he felt vulnerable in front of Harry.

He tried to wrap his bed sheets over his boxers as casually as he could. Harry stared at him unblinkingly with a soft amused smile playing upon his lips, as though he knew exactly what Draco was doing.

"Er, s-sit down if you want," he offered nervously. Harry didn't acknowledge him as he casually walked over to his CD collection and rifled through them. It was like he owned the place, while he, Draco, was the guest. Harry gave a peal of laughter.

"The spice girls?" he snorted. "What the fuck?"

Draco uttered a laugh that sounded more like a whimper. "It was a present," he lied. Harry raised an eyebrow.

"I would have returned it," he said flatly. He stared at Draco for a long time causing him to shift his position uncomfortably. He felt like Harry's eyes were gazing into his private thoughts. He swallowed nervously as Harry strolled over to him slowly. Then, without warning, he straddled Draco's lap, their faces inches away. He stroked his hair softly, almost kindly, before pushing him roughly in the chest onto his back. He sank onto his bed, Harry on top of him in an animalistic manner. Harry was the lion having conquered the weaker prey and now he was going to devour his prize.

Draco's eyes widened as he felt Harry's constricted stiff meat rubbing against his bare leg. He was about to ask if he could see it before Harry's lips imprinted themselves on his. He had never kissed anyone before and didn't know if he was doing it right. Harry seemed to be enjoying it, whimpering small moans and groans, sucking on Draco's tongue, his head thrashing from side to side, trying to get into his mouth at all angles.

Harry pulled away and sat up straight, still straddling Draco, trapping him under his weight in a prison-like manner. He took off his shirt and threw it over the edge of the bed. He lowered himself slowly onto Draco and positioned his nipple onto his mouth.

Draco didn't know what to do and licked on it as though it were an ice cream cone. Harry guffawed loudly and Draco found himself feeling the same way as he did when he was sixteen.

"It's better if you take control," he said in a small voice. Harry smirked.

"That's the way it always goes babe."