A/N: First of all, I would like to say a dangerously big (attempting-to-engulf-the-world kind of big) to all the reviewers. Better than all my others presents was getting on the computer Christmas morning and seeing my reviews had reached over 100. One small step for other writers, but one giant leap for me. YIPEEE!

Secondly, yuixei said: draco doesnt do anything for a living?

It did say in the very early stages that Draco had a job. You'll just have to wait to find out. Um, also, in this chapter, TEENIEST bit of Harry/OC...(apologies, but it was needed.). And I mean teensy, don't freak out.

Also, sorry this chapter was so long in coming. I wrote it, then posted the previous one, then looked at it again, and hated it, and completely rewrote it. :D.

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Harry thought it'd be hard work getting through one song with Michael, but he found it wasn't all that bad. Enemies, friends, lovers, people....they all become nameless silhouettes in the dark, and Harry didn't even notice when the song changed, and they danced their intertwining bodies through their second song. And third. And fourth. And then the songs seemed to slip together, winding and twirling around Harry, almost as if wrapping him up in silk...

It seemed almost natural when Michael's large hands started massaging Harry's arse. As did it when Harry brought his hands up and slid them through Michael's hair. It felt natural when Michael brought his hips to Harry's and Harry felt a hardness in them, and realised he was in a similar state. It felt natural when Michael began to grind against Harry, their chests rubbing together in a tantalising way. It felt natural when Michael pressed his lips to Harry's, and Harry reciprocated.

However, it did not feel natural when a harsh hand grabbed the thin material of his shirt and yanked him away, causing him to lose his balance and almost come crashing down to the floor. It did not feel natural when he was being pulled harshly along through the crowds, bumping into many jostling people, who looked rather annoyed at the disturbance. It certainly did not feel natural when he was pushed out onto the cold street, the lack of warm bodies surrounding him giving him a deadened feeling in his chest.

'What the fuck are you doing, Potter?!' hissed Draco, rounding on Harry, his grey eyes glinting in the soft moonlight slipping through the dark clouds looming in the sky overhead.

Harry spluttered. 'What...what the hell do you mean?'

'You don't want to get involved with him, Harry.' Draco said, harshly.

'Oh don't I?'

'No, you don't.' Draco snarled.

'I'll make my mind up about what I want, Draco.' Harry said in a rough voice. 'You're not my mother, in case you haven't noticed.'

'Well, maybe I should be, because it looks like you need one.' Draco spat.

'Well, I probably fucking do, but it's a bit late for that now, isn't it?' Harry said fiercely.

Draco sighed impatiently. 'Look, Harry, I'm just telling you not to get involved with Michael. He only wants you for you body.'

'Oh, because no one could possibly like me for anything else?' Harry said angrily.

'I'm not saying that, Potter!' Draco snarled. 'This isn't about you!'

'Then why do I need to hear it?' Harry countered.

'Look, Harry, Michael's a bastard, a creepy bastard.' Draco said, obviously trying to keep his voice even.

'And why would you care who I dance with? Why do you care if I do anything with a "creepy bastard"?' Harry said, staring into Draco's eyes.

'I don't want him hanging round near me anymore than is needed.' Draco said, smoothly.

'Of course.' Harry said, throwing a hand up, and he took a few steps and stared out into the distance. 'Of course! It's always about you. It would never be because you even gave a shit about me.'

'Well, of course I do, Harry.' Draco said, taking a few steps towards Harry. 'You're... well, you're my friend.' he said, a little stiffly.

Harry looked down at his feet and gave a humourless chuckle. 'Friend.' he murmured.

'Is there something wrong with that?' Draco asked sharply.

There was an odd moment of pause, before Harry said, 'Of course not.' in a strange kind of voice that sounded nothing like his own.

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Draco stared at Harry, trying to figure out what was running through his head. Not at all what Draco was hoping for, that was for sure. Harry looked back up at Draco, a hard-set expression on his face, but a thin smile layering the top. 'Well, shall we go back in? I'm sure Joh will give you a dance if you ask cockily enough.' Harry said, smiling a little wider.

'Harry.' Draco said, sharply. Harry sighed and looked out into the distance again, looking wistful and beautiful as the soft light bounced off his hair and the swirling shadows welcomed his body into the darkness, his dark eyeliner running slightly down his cheekbone, making him look like some kind of a death angel. 'Look at me, Harry.' Draco said, quietly. Harry sighed, but slowly complied, turning his head to stare deeply into Draco's orbs. Draco felt the urge to shiver, but forced it down. Draco paused a moment, before saying softly, 'I remember.'

Harry rolled his eyes despairingly. 'Uh...remember what?'

But Draco didn't answer, just looked at Harry meaningfully, feeling the cool breeze nipping at his skin, like millions of little mouths attacking under the metal. Harry's brow furrowed, as he stared calculatingly at Draco, his eyes searching Draco's for a sliver of the truth he was scared was possible.

Apparently, somewhere in Draco's eyes, he found it. His eyes widened and he froze.

'Remember w-what?' he repeated, quieter this time.

'You know.' Draco said, softly. Harry's startled look remained for sometime as they just stood staring at each other, but then Harry's rock face set in again.

'Well, that's nice.' Harry said, flatly. 'Anyhow, shall we head back in? Promise I won't dance with Michael.'

'Harry...' Draco said, patronisingly. 'Don't.'

'Don't what?' Harry retorted. Draco just started at him meaningfully.

'Say something.' Draco said, softly.

'Like what?'

'Anything.'

'Well what the fuck do you want me to say?!' Harry exploded, and Draco jolted, startled to hear Harry's bellowing voice fill the sky. 'What can I say? What could I possibly say? Tell you what you want to hear? Is that it? Well I have no fucking idea what the hell that is, so that's a little difficult right now!' Harry roared.

'I don't want you to say what I want to hear, Harry.' Draco said quietly, trying to take away that film of blindness that settled over Harry's eyes every time he got angry, clouding his vision; not in the physical sense.

'What the fuck do you want, then?' Harry said, exasperatedly, staring at Draco.

Draco felt "You" standing on the tip of the diving board of his tongue, ready to plunge out into the cool night air, but he kept it in, clamping his mouth shut tight.

'You don't know.' Harry said flatly, answering for him. 'Or maybe you do, but you just don't want to divulge that information just yet. That's fine,' Harry said, holding up a hand, 'Whatever. I can live with that. The Boy Who Lived, remember?' Harry laughed, hollowly. 'I guess I'll see you later.'

And without another word Harry strode away into the darkness.

Draco stared at Harry's back, the reality of the situation that seemed unreal in the eerie light hitting him with full force.

'Harry, wait!' his voice ripped out from his throat. The shadow stopped, but did not turn around. 'Harry, please.' he begged, not quite sure what it was he was asking for. Neither, it seemed, was Harry.

'What do you want, Draco?' Harry's voice carried, settling in Draco's ears.

'I want...' Draco croaked, trailing off, frantically searching for the right thing to say. 'I want....I want to dance.' he said, jolting as he realised what he'd said.

Harry turned around slowly and stared at Draco. 'What?' he asked, clearly surprised by Draco's answer.

'I want to dance.' Draco repeated, firmly, thankful for once his brain didn't have to do all the thinking. Possibly a bad thing; Draco wasn't sure.

Harry just stood there, staring at Draco as if he were some alien who had just jumped out of a spaceship in front of him. Then, amazingly, a begrudging smile forced it's way onto Harry's bemused expression. 'What, here?' he asked.

Draco shook his head and looked at Harry. 'No. In there.' he said, nodding his head towards the club. 'With you.' he said delicately.

'With me?' Harry said, trying to scoff, but his voice came out shaky.

'If you'll have me.' Draco said, evenly.

'You want...to dance. With me.' Harry repeated.

'Severus is right. You are slow.' Draco mused.

'Well...um. Ok.' said Harry, his voice suddenly strangely embarrassed.

'Yeah?' Draco said, his face lifting.

'If...if you want to.' Harry stuttered.

'Why would I ask you if I didn't want to?' Draco laughed. He smiled as he realised the atmosphere and tension around the two had lightened somewhat.

Harry shrugged. 'You wouldn't, I suppose.'

'Brilliant observation.' Draco remarked drily.

'Shut up, or I'll change my answer.' Harry said, obstinately.

'Which would be far too devastating for my sense of being...' Draco said, lifting a hand to his brow in mock despair.

'Drama queen.' Harry muttered.

Draco snorted. 'Least I'm not a drag queen.'

Harry raised an eyebrow, skeptically. 'Oh yes?'

'These are perfectly acceptable masculine clothes!' Draco protested.

'Yes, but how can you explain the corsets and high heels, Draco?' Harry smirked.

Draco's eyes widened. 'Look, they're not even mine, I just–'

'Woah, woah, woah.' Harry interrupted, raising his hand. 'I was kidding.'

Draco blushed. 'Oh.' then he tried to laugh, easily. 'So was I.'

'Oh God. No you weren't. Oh my God, Draco, you have a corset?!'

'No. Of course not.'

'Oh my God, yes you do!'

'Potter, I'm not discussing this.' Draco said, flatly. Harry bit his lip and frowned.

'You really should decide, you know.' he said, thoughtfully.

Draco swallowed. 'Decide what?'

'Whether you're going to call me Harry, or Potter. I get used to one, and then you switch to the other.' Harry said.

'Well, what do you want me to call you?' Draco asked pointedly.

Harry shrugged. 'Call me what you want. Just decide.'

'Fluffybunnykins?' Draco teased.

'Sure.' Harry said, easily. 'If you want your face smashed in.'

Draco snorted. 'You couldn't smash my face.'

'Oh yeah? Wanna bet?'

'No. Because then I'd have a smashed in face and owe you money.' Draco laughed. 'What I really meant was, you wouldn't.'

'Oh? Why wouldn't I?' Harry asked, trying to growl.

'Because you couldn't bring yourself to destroy something of such beauty.' Draco said, running his fingers through his hair.

Harry snorted. 'You're about as beautiful as my arse, Draco.' he said, mock-sneeringly.

Draco arched an eyebrow. 'Well, then I'd have to say I'm pretty damn fine.' he said, smirking as Harry blushed.

'What have I told you about watching me in the shower?' Harry said, trying to get back his nerve.

'Doing is better than watching.' Draco replied smoothly.

'What?' Harry seethed.

'Kidding.' Draco said, easily. 'Unless, of course, you don't want me to be?' he asked, looking at Harry suggestively.

'I don't like riddles.' Harry said flatly.

'Especially of the Tom kind, right?' Draco leered.

Harry stared at Draco.

'You know?' Draco prompted. 'Tom? Tom Riddle? You said–'

'I know what I said, I just can't believe you lowered yourself to such low standards!' Harry snorted.

'Than was amusing enough!' Draco defended.

'Yeah, if you're a half-blind geriatric.'

'And how many half-blind geriatrics do you know?' Draco asked.

Harry pondered.

'See, you don't know.' Draco said triumphantly.

'Aha! Yes I do! Moody.' Harry said, grinning.

'Who?' Draco asked, frowning.

'Alastor Moody? The Auror? The one who turned you into a ferret...but wait, that was actually Barty Crouch Jr, wasn't it? But it still looked like Moody...and he is still a real person...' Harry trailed on, but Draco interrupted him with a snort.

'Oh, God, I didn't realise I bought tickets to a running commentary of the goings on in Harry Potter's mind. An outer inner monologue, if you will.' he said, sarcastically.

'I'm sure many people would be interested in "The Outer Inner Monologue of Harry James Potter!"' Harry laughed, trying to primp his hair vainly as Draco did.

Draco surveyed Harry skeptically. 'You can't pull it off, Harry.'

Harry deflated. 'Damn. Didn't think so.'

Draco then raised an eyebrow. 'You know, I'd be interested to know your inner monologue.'

Harry stared at him. 'Why?' he asked, startled.

'So I can know what you're thinking.' Draco said, smirking.

'Why do you want you know what I'm thinking?' Harry asked, nervously.

'So I can better understand why you're making us stand out in the cold when we could be in the warm dancing.' Draco said in a dramatically exasperated voice.

'Me? You're the one who called me back.' Harry protested.

'Look, lets stop arguing about whose fault it is, and go inside.' Draco said, ushering Harry with his hands to start walking. 'And try to avoid Michael.'

Harry, however, looked at Draco thoughtfully. 'Why are you friends with him if you don't like him?' Harry asked.

Draco frowned, contemplating how to word his answer. 'It's like...if his attentions aren't focused on you, he can be ok. Kind of fun, funny...plus, you don't really want to get on his bad side. Might as well go out with him and a whole bunch of other people every now and again and artfully ignore him, than be watching your back in dark alleyways.'

'He really is that bad, then?' Harry asked fidgeting.

Draco laughed. 'No, not really. Just a bit of a possessive prick, really.'

Harry nodded.

'Really good in bed, mind.' Draco mused, testing Harry's reaction.

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Harry, for some explicable reason (well, at least that was what he was telling himself, he knew there was a perfectly good explanation, he just didn't want to think about it) felt a coil of anger wrap around in his gut and strangely, somewhere in his chest, there was an odd aching feeling which Harry recognised to be...jealousy

Harry was jealous.

Of who, though?

Harry snorted. The answer was pretty obvious.

Oh God. It was?

Oh God. It was.

Harry stared at Draco. 'I can't believe you just said that.' he said, between gritted teeth.

'What? Why?' said Draco, smirking.

Harry shrugged, trying to look nonchalant, aware his cheeks were fuming. 'Too much information, you know?' he said.

'Oh?' said Draco, looking amused. 'I thought you liked him.'

'Just dancing with him, Draco. I didn't want to sit in the corner all evening, and no one else would dance with me.' Harry mumbled.

'Oh, I don't believe that for a minute.' Draco scoffed.

'What part?'

'All of it.' said Draco. 'The "just dancing".'

'We were!' Harry protested.

'Then why are you getting all defensive? I saw you, Harry.'

'Not that it matters to you.' Harry said, looking down at the ground.

'No.' agreed Draco, tersely. 'Not that it matters to me.'

There was a slightly pause.

'And the "I didn't want to sit in the corner all evening." I hear you're a great lurker, Harry.'

Harry smiled grimly.

'And the "no one would dance with me"? Please. If you were offering, they'd be lining up for miles.' Draco said, smirking once again.

'Oh, please.' Harry mumbled.

'No no, I'm serious. You're a very attractive man, Harry.'

Harry looked up at him. 'Where exactly are you going with this?'

'It's obvious you need some assistance.' Draco said.

'Assistance in what, exactly?' Harry asked.

'Honing your luring skills. Learning that modesty is always a bad thing.'

'Really?' asked Harry, frowning. 'I thought it was a good thing.'

'Not when it blinds you.' Draco replied.

'My modesty is blinding me.' Harry repeated, in an amused tone of voice.

'You've finally seen the light.' Draco smiled. 'Now, shall we go in?' he asked, holding out his arm. 'With my nicely honed luring skills, and your nicely toned...' with a warning look from Harry Draco broke off abruptly. 'What?'

'You're not very subtle, Draco.' Harry said.

Draco looked at him blankly. 'I wasn't trying to be subtle.' he said. 'Believe me, when I'm trying to be subtle, I'm so subtle you don't even notice.'

Harry rolled his eyes. 'Wonderful.'

Draco smiled coyly. 'I know. Isn't everything about me?'

'Except your amazing ability to stall everything.' Harry said.

'Me? Stall? Well, I never!'

'What are you doing now, then?'

Draco smirked. 'If you are presuming I don't want to dance with you, Mr Potter, you should be highly disappointed with yourself.'

Harry smiled, a happy, squirming feeling acquainting itself with his stomach. 'Lead the way.' he said, and Draco smiled obligingly. Harry followed him into the club, where the loud music began drumming through his ears again, which had just gotten used to the soft sounds of the night.

Draco suddenly stopped, turned around, and leaned in to whisper in Harry's ear.

'We're going to have to make a show of this.' he said, softly.

'What?' Harry asked, looking up at him with confused eyes.

'We're the best looking men here.' he said, smirking slightly.

Harry's face burned. 'I'm still not sure if I'm comfortable with you flirting with me, Mr Malfoy.' he said in his best McGonagall voice.

'I wasn't flirting, I was stating a fact!' said Draco, indignant. 'Anyway. We have to make a show of this.'

'What? Why?'

'Are you kidding?' asked Draco, staring at Harry. 'The two best looking men dancing? We'll be the subjects of everyone's wet dreams for the rest of their lives. We have to make it good.' Draco said, imitating a voice husky with lust. Harry felt a hot and cold shiver go down his spine.

'What, you mean like...perform? I don't have exhibitionist tendencies, Draco.' Harry said uncertainly.

'More lies! I've seen you in the shower, Harry, and believe me, you do.'

Harry stared at Draco fearfully.

'I'm kidding, Harry! God, you think you'd learn. Damn Gryffindors. So bloody trusting. They believe everything that comes out of your mouth, and hate you when you tell them it's not the truth. Idiots.' he muttered, then smiled at Harry. 'Come on.' he urged. 'It'll be fun.' he said. 'I promise.' he added, winking.

Harry shivered. 'Um, well. Ok then.' he said slowly.

A wicked grin spread across Draco's face. 'Excellent.' he murmured. 'Follow my lead.'

'Oh? Since when am I a sub?' Harry shot, trying to adopt a smirk.

'Since the day you were born, Potter.' Draco said, a glint in his eyes, coming to stand next to Harry. He slid his hand to grasp Harry's arse tightly. Harry jumped.

'Hey!' he whispered as Draco stroked the hot leather.

Draco gave him a devilish smile. 'Come on, Potter. You can't keep your goody two shoes Gryffindor morals in here.'

'Potter again, is it?'

'Oh yes.' Draco smirked. 'Then we can fulfill the schoolboy fantasy as well.'

Harry stared at Draco blankly.

'You know? Detention late at night? White shirts and school ties askew? Bent over the desk? Fingers in inkpots? House points on the line?' Draco prompted.

'You have way too much spare time.' Harry said, disbelieving, shaking his head slightly. 'Malfoy.' he added, grinning a little.

Draco arched a perfect eyebrow. 'Fast learner.' he murmured.

'You have no idea.' Harry said softly.

'You ready, then?'

'To do what, exactly?'

Draco laughed. 'Do you want intimate details?'

Harry blushed a little. 'Well, yeah.'

'Just...' Draco said, shaking a little, 'have fun. Enjoy yourself. Overstep the boundaries. Fulfil fantasies.'

Harry tried to raise an eyebrow. Draco laughed.

'Very good, Potter.'

'So basically, you're asking me to dirty dance with you?' Harry asked cockily.

Draco looked surprised. 'To put it lightly.'

It was Harry's turn to look surprised. 'Lightly?'

'Oh, come on, Potter.' Draco said, almost impatiently. 'We're giving them a show. We're going to have fun. We're going to be naughty. The curtains are rolling up now.' and with that Draco grabbed Harry by the arm and forced him through the crowds of gyrating dancers, till they got right in the centre of the mass of people.

A few of the surrounding dancers looked at Harry and Draco in an interested fashion. Draco, without a word, began to circle Harry, staring at him the whole time, a look in his eye like he was going to pounce. Harry licked his lips, and Draco's eyes followed the movement of his tongue as it flicked across his pink flesh.

Quick as lightening, Draco stalked up to Harry, and without a word, traced Harry's lips with his tongue. Harry gasped, letting his mouth fall open, hoping against hope that Draco would take the chance to invade it, but Draco had other plans. Draco brought his hands up to Harry's chest, laying them softly on it. Harry shivered slightly, and Draco began to move them in soft circles, causing Harry to inhale sharply. Draco began mapping out Harry's torso, then his back, this his arse, and then just letting his hands caress and slide all over Harry's body, as if marking his territory. At a look from Draco, Harry began to do the same, running his fingers softly over the chained metal and dark leather.

Harry felt like he was on fire.

Draco suddenly slowed his hands, and rested them on Harry's hips. He used them to bring Harry closer, and with a small smile, brought his thigh up around Harry's leg, tracing it, until the inside of his thigh rested on the front of the top of Harry's. Harry swallowed. Draco gave a small smile, and gave a few half-hearted thrusts. Harry whimpered, and brought Draco closer to him, hungrily. Draco smiled wickedly, and promptly kicked Harry behind the knee, making Harry's legs buckle, and sending him crashing to the ground.

The dancers surrounding the pair jolted, and leapt back, a few moving forward to check if Harry was all right. However, when they caught the hungry look on Harry's face and the glint in Draco's eyes, they realised perhaps Harry didn't need their help in getting up off the floor. In fact, by the way he lay there, his chest heaving, he looked like he was quite happy right where he was.

They suddenly realised that right before them were two gorgeously sexy men, wrapped in leather and black and metal and make-up and red lips, who were apparently deeply involved in some sort of game in their minds. Many of the dancers surrounding them stopped dancing and simply stared as Draco circled Harry, his soft footsteps coming exactly in time with the thudding bass in the music pounding through the building.

Harry realised he was part of the show too and should therefore be acting as such. He smirked up at Draco and lazily ran a hand down his torso, invitingly. Draco strode over to Harry and stood over him. He reached down and grabbed Harry's hand, placing it beside Harry, not bending his knees at all so the people behind him had the benefit of his arse stretching sinfully in the leather. Or the leather stretching sinfully over his arse, whatever way you wanted to put it.

Draco came down and straddled Harry, grabbing Harry's wrists and holding them high above Harry's head. He made a few slow, circular movements with his hips causing Harry to emit a shuddering groan, which Draco was sure at least the people closest to them had the benefit of.

Draco leant forward and pressed his tongue to the corner of Harry's mouth, licking a trail down Harry's jaw, then down his chin, down his neck to his Adam's apple, and over to the side, just near where the neck joined the shoulder, he began kissing and sucking. Harry shuddered, a sight which Draco was sure was not lost to all the people that were now watching.

Honestly, is everyone a pervert these days? Draco thought to himself. He pulled up and looked at Harry's gorgeous, flushed face. Count me in! he thought.

And over the next quarter of an hour Draco proceeded to touch, fondle, tease, stroke, caress, straddle, grind against, and dance with Harry for the benefit of their largely growing audience. Their tries for dominance and power were subtle, their moans and gasps were not. They played, they smirked, and at one point (much to the delight of their onlookers) Harry's top found it's way off, and everyone present was allowed a moment to indulge in the perfection that was Harry Potter's Torso.

But not once did they kiss.

Sometimes Draco would lean down and lick Harry's lips, and as Harry tried to imitate the action Draco would slip away. As the time moved on, Harry could feel, building up in the air, the tension, especially every time their mouths moved close.

Finally, when the silver and emerald eyes met each other, and mutual declarations of exhaustion were exchanged through them, Draco disentangled their limbs, and with a small, satisfied smile, dipped Harry down and sealed his mouth with a hot kiss, his tongue plunging in to meet Harry's.

Their audience couldn't help it. They cheered.

Then took their hot and bothered selves to get sorted out

Ah, so to speak.

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Yes, yes, there's lots more to come (excuse the pun) that I was going to put in this chapter but it just got too long and I wanted to get this out and I promise it's on it's way, it's nearly done this is just in the meantime...anyway, please review and tell me what you think, be honest...that's what helps.

But not too honest. I'm fragile. :D

Coming soon: Harry and Draco get back to the apartment and "things happen" (what kind of things? You'll have to wait and see...) Plus Harry tells Ron and Hermione and Remus where he's staying (oh dear!)...one of Draco's old friends drops by and jealousies rise...and yes, hopefully things get a little dirrty. Extra "r" intended.