Disclaimer: Harry Potter isn't mine.

A/N: This is rather ...odd. I don't know where it came from, and I find it rather unsettling. Then again, maybe that's just me.

He'd never forget those ice grey eyes, or the face that went with them. Draco Malfoy had come to his office, and looked at him for a moment, then said the one thing he'd never wanted to hear. "I know what you are, Professor Lupin." A calculating smile, then, "And I don't really care. Professor Snape seems to care a great deal. He expects me to spread it around, you know." Draco's smile widened in amusement.

When Remus spoke, his voice was weary. "So why haven't you? Get it over with; it'll be easier on all of us."

"Because as much as I like Professor Snape, I like you more." He tilted his head, and gazed steadily at Remus through long, pale eyelashes.

Remus didn't really know how to respond to that. "I'm pleased to hear that."

Draco smirked. "Are you? Do you really know what it means?"

"Ummm... I didn't think that it meant anything more than that you like me, but the way you ask makes it seem like something more." Remus was nervous now.

"It is something more." Draco did not elaborate, but merely looked at him expectantly.

"And what something more would that be?" asked Remus nervously.

"I prefer older men. Like you, for example." There was something strange, almost forced, in his smile then. "And I have the power here. So kiss me."

Remus froze, then scowled at Draco. "This is a trap, isn't it?" He began to turn to his desk, thinking about how soon he could be packed and gone.

Before Remus could finish turning, Draco caught his shirt-front in a surprisingly strong grip and pulled Remus' face down to his level. "This is no trap." Then Draco's lips were on his in a clumsy, nearly desperate kiss, and his manicured hands were clutching at Remus' worn robes.

Remus pulled away and stepped back in horror. "You're my student. This is wrong."

"I don't care. Would you rather lose your job or have a pretty teenage boyfriend? Either can be arranged." Despite the cheap melodrama, Draco's words sent a chill down Remus' spine.

"If I accepted your oh-so-gracious offer, I would be no better than a prostitute. Please leave. I have packing to do." Remus' voice was tinged with contempt.

"And how, precisely, would you be no better than a prostitute?" Draco's voice was cold. "It's no better than prostitution when a woman marries a man she doesn't love for his money. I'm not asking you to marry me, or say you love me. I'm not even asking for sex. I just want someone who won't leave me. If anything, I'm the prostitute here, trading sex for affection."

Remus raised an eyebrow. "If you don't want sex, why did you kiss me?"

"So you'd want to stay." Draco's face twisted. "After all, you'd never stay if I just asked you to."

"I would have, if you had asked me instead of trying to make some strange bargain."

Draco's face crumpled, then reformed in a mask of fury. "So you're saying this my fault? Fuck you."

He stormed off, and Remus finally began to pack.