Harry shivered, even though the room was warm, and rubbed his hands up and down his bare arms. Take a few deep breaths. This will be OK. It will be good.
Deep breaths and his attempts to calm himself down weren't doing much to make Harry less nervous. Underneath that, there was a deep arousal that had been fed by countless fantasies running through his head since he had received this damn gift. It had been so distracting, images of naked bodies or sex toys popping into his head at work or during the boring speeches at charity events.
Now, stripped down to only his boxer briefs, Harry tried to control his thoughts. An erection would be far too obvious. The longer he waited, the harder it got to control.
How long had it been since one of the brothel staff led him to Dante's bedroom and told him to strip down and kneel? Ten minutes? Twenty? It felt like ages.
Finally, he heard someone approaching in the hallway outside, and he tensed, stomach suddenly tight with nerves. The door swung open and a man in a black robe with the hood up stepped inside.
Harry's heart was pounding, and he looked down to the floor. Isn't that what good subservient people did?
The man stood right in front of Harry, his feet encased in dragon hide boots, and tight blue jeans hugging his long, slim legs. A finger under Harry's chin urged his face upwards, and Harry let his gaze travel along his body. A snug black t-shirt, pale skin of his throat, and a face in shadow from the generous fabric of his hood.
Harry could feel the man's eyes on him, the finger under his chin keeping him in place as he looked his fill. No doubt the man recognized him, and Harry had to dig deep to stop himself from looking away. He had decided to not alter his appearance while in this room. Yes, he was Harry Potter, and he was here as a client of a male dom. Would Dante be able accept that, and be able to treat him like a regular client?
The man gave a slight chuckle, and moved his hand away from Harry to push his own hood back. He stared down at Harry, a defiant glint in his grey eyes, a small smirk threatening to become bigger on his lips. "Harry Fucking Potter."
Harry could only stare back in shock. It took dry swallowing a couple times before he found he could speak. "Draco Malfoy."
Draco stepped away, slipping off his black robe and hanging it on a hook near the door. It gave Harry a chance to breathe again, looking over the man he hadn't seen in years, heart pounding hard in his ears.
The man had filled out since Hogwarts, his body still obviously slim in the snug jeans and t-shirt, but his angles rounded by lean muscles. His hair had deepened to a darker blond, and there was a light scruff of whiskers along his jaw. He definitely looked like a man now instead of a boy. Harry found himself licking his lips as his eyes traced over the way the denim clung to his ass.
Spinning around quickly, Draco caught where Harry's gaze had been and chuckled again. Harry felt his cheeks warm a little, and he looked away. He felt so out of his element here, vulnerable and exposed.
Grabbing a simple wooden chair, Draco put the back towards Harry and straddled it, his arms folded along the top rail. He looked down at Harry, still kneeling before him in just his underwear, and simply shook his head slowly.
"When Monique told me I had a new client named James, I never considered for a moment it could be you. The great Harry Potter, here, paying to be my little plaything for an hour? How delicious." His grin was slow, and, Harry couldn't deny to himself, sexy.
Harry scoffed. "And I hardly thought the man she so highly praised would be you, Dante."
Tilting his head back a little, Draco laughed again. "Touché. Yes, I suppose neither of us wants our names bandied about. Although I still see your's often enough in The Daily Prophet."
"Not with any encouragement on my side. I wish I could hex all their Quick Quote Quills to run out of ink anytime they tried to write my name." Harry sighed.
It was Draco's turn to scoff at that comment. "As if that would happen. You've been selling papers for them for almost thirty years. The Boy Who Lived."
"You'd think everyone would be sick of reading about me by now. I haven't done anything except regular auror work for ages." Harry grumbled, running a hand through his hair. He had always been famous in the Wizarding World, but he had never sought it out. Everywhere he went, people recognized him. He just wanted to be treated like a normal person.
Draco shook his head. "Oh, give me a break! You act like you don't like the attention, but you seem to be at every charity event people put on, giving speeches and encouraging donations."
"That only because people are constantly asking me to host them! Begging me to be the MC, saying how my presence is essential to get the big donors there. How can I can decline helping out such worthy causes?" Harry shot back defensively. This felt more normal, arguing with Draco, and his nerves were fading away.
Draco rolled his eyes. "Worthy causes? Didn't you MC one a week or two ago for Clothes for Critters sponsored by the Never Nude Society? And another for Anti-Nargle Necklace research?"
Harry shifted a little, looking down at his knees. They were getting sore from kneeling so long. "A lot of people are uncomfortable around naked animals, and I did the Nargle thing as a favour for a friend."
"You know what the proper answer is when people ask you to host events like that? No. Do you even know that word, Potter?" Draco sneered, with a bit of a mocking chuckle. "Obviously not, considering the things you have been doing. Sheesh, you are like the sloppy party bottom at a gang bang. Willing to do anything people ask just to please them."
Harry was getting madder and madder with every word Draco said. The worst thing was he couldn't think of a good counter-argument. "Shut the fuck up, Draco. I didn't come here to have my life criticized."
His tone made Draco quit laughing, and his eyes narrowed as he glared back at Harry, challenging him. "That's a good point. So, why exactly are you here, then?"
The question made Harry's mind go blank for a moment, his anger fading away. "Um, well, I...it was a gift, a Christmas gift."
Draco's eyebrows rose as he gave Harry a considering look. "Monique mentioned you had a twelve-session package. That's quite the gift. Why would The Chosen One get something like that? He can fuck anyone he wants to."
Harry gritted his teeth, going back to being irritated with Draco. "Yes, they all want to be with Harry Potter, the image that has been built by the media over all those years," he snapped. His emotions had been everywhere today, and he was starting to feel drained. "I want to be with somebody I can be me with. The real me."
He could feel Draco really looking at him now, his blue-grey eyes starting at Harry's shaggy, too-long hair, his tired eyes, the wrinkles that were starting to show on his face. His body marked with all those scars the healers couldn't heal, souvenirs of the war and his auror work.
Harry had been looking at Draco's face during his perusal. He could see that the last decade had been hard on him too. His jaded eyes showed that he had been through a lot, seen a lot. But he had a confident air, seeming comfortable with his role here, successful at it.
How had Draco come to this work? Had he been unable to find other work after the war? Why had he stayed when so many left England? Harry pushed those questions down, knowing he couldn't ask them now.
"And you can be the real you with a male sex worker? With a dom?" Draco finally drawled, seeming to be done his examination of Harry.
He sighed, and decided to be honest. "In the last few years, I have found that I'm really just attracted to men. I came here to explore that."
"Why not with muggles?"
"I've done quick things a little. I want something...more." Harry found it hard to articulate what he wanted. Mostly because he wasn't sure.
Draco straightened up, looking down at Harry, his gaze hardening a little. "And have you been with a dom before? Male or female? Any BDSM play?"
Seeing Draco like that sent a shiver of awareness through Harry. "Um, no...not at all...". He suddenly felt a little foolish, young and inexperienced. "Monique showed me your picture, and I just wanted...you."
The admission took a lot for Harry to say, his heart thumping fast in his chest as he waited for Draco's response. He could have sworn he saw a flicker of heat in his eyes, but it was quickly hidden away. The private, inner parts of Draco were fully sheltered from the world.
Draco got up, moving the chair away and standing right in front of Harry. He put a couple fingers under his chin to tilt his head way back for good eye contact. "If you are my sub, that means you do whatever I say without hesitation. It means I can punish you if you misbehave. You will have a safe word if I go beyond your limits."
The words sent a thrill right through Harry, heat seeming to travel from Draco's fingers right to his cock. He could feel himself getting hard, and hoped Draco wouldn't notice.
But he did, his eyes flicking downwards and lingering for a few moments before meeting Harry's eyes again. "I do all sorts of things with my clients. Tie them up, beat them, tease them, whip them. The one thing I don't do with them is have sex with them."
It took a few seconds for these words to sink in. Draco, looking impossibly sexy and all grown-up, saying he wasn't available for sex. Harry felt bereft, his shoulders sinking a little in disappointment. "Um...never...? No exceptions?"
Draco chuckled, releasing Harry's chin and stepping away to sink down on to the chair, his motions graceful as a cat. He crossed his legs, his dom demeanor now gone. "Never. So, you have a couple options here. You can go back to Monique and pick out someone else to give you the 'something more' you said you wanted, or you can stay with me and I'll beat you black and blue every week for three months."
His tone was a matter-of-fact, nonchalant even, like it was an ordinary thing to discuss. Harry supposed it probably was, for Draco, but it was the craziest conversation he'd ever had in his life.
He swallowed hard, his heart pounding again, finding it hard to even think straight with Draco calmly watching him like that. What did he really, really want the most? Sex with a male sex worker? The other men Monique had shown him were attractive. Maybe some of them even dabbled also in BDSM. He had little experience in either area, so it wasn't like he really needed to be with someone who specialized in BDSM for the level he was at.
It was all perfectly logical, but he found he couldn't agree with it. He could only look back at Draco, and say again softly, "I want you."
...
-A/N: Three chapters posted together to give you an introduction to this story. I'll be posting at least once a week from now on, but likely more frequently since I have drafts of the next few chapters done.
-I will be taking a lot of artistic license with this story...so please be patient with me. Some things coming up may seem a little out of character now, but future chapters will explain everything. I hope you will stick with it. :)