Hi! Thanks for the reviews and all the favorites! This is the next chapter, and it's a rather long one! I'm posting this chapter rather soon, so don't be disappointed that the next chapter might take a little while longer. The book and author mentioned are entirely fictitious, so don't bother looking it up or anything. Please review to tell me what you think, because that's the only thing that keeps me writing. Have fun!

Chapter 4
Civil conversations

Draco was walking his way to the Eiffel tower. He had done some shopping with the cash Muggle money he had found in his bag and had purchased a lovely set of Muggle clothes to wear on special occasions. He had bought a soft blue blouse, with a white pair of trousers. The match-up had appealed to Draco and, even though it had been very expensive – he didn't have a lot of money on him – Draco was proud of his new clothing.

He had eaten a snack on his way to the Eiffel tower and, at the moment, he was waiting to purchase his ticket to mount the tower. Draco had really enjoyed himself so far. Paris was a beautiful city; entirely different from London. While he was waiting, Potter crossed his mind.

Since yesterday, they had become roommates, staying at a farm. How had he gotten stuck in this situation? If someone would have said a month ago that he was going to sleep in the same bed as Potter, he would have hexed the life out of them.

But yet, here he was in France, having seen Potter more in those days than he had in years in England. He was kind of grateful that Potter had found his bag, otherwise he could have ended up in a whole different scenario.

He paid his ticket. He had chosen to take the stairs, while the tickets were extremely expensive (he didn't have an overload of Muggle money; having spent the majority on his clothing) and he wanted to see the view while walking up. He turned around and was almost surprised to see Potter paying his ticket at the other pay desk. But at this point, few things could surprise the former Slytherin.

"Potter. Doing some sightseeing?" Draco sneered, making his way onto the steps. Potter followed right behind. Draco cursed inwardly. Why couldn't the Scarhead take the elevator? He already had to share a room with him, why not accompany him all the way up the Eiffel Tower? Draco tried to keep his amount of sarcasm down, taking deep breaths to calm down.

"Yes I am, actually. I've always wanted to see the Eiffel Tower." Draco nodded. He had always wanted to go to Muggle Paris too, ever since he was little. But his father wouldn't let him, saying they were too good to trudge through the Muggle streets. Draco didn't hate Muggles. He didn't like them either, but he had to admit that he approved their clothing style.

"Are your chores done? Or is it just between shifts that you ran here?" Draco mocked in reply. Potter and his stupid ideas. Who in this whole world would go on a trip to Paris and stay at a farm? Things would have been a lot brighter if the Hero would have stayed in a hotel himself. First of all, they would have been near the city centre; second, they wouldn't have to tend the animals.

"No, my chores are done, Malfoy. Thanks for asking. And just so you know, they're yours now," Potter shot back. Draco sent him a death glare. The thought of cleaning the shit of those filthy creatures made his snack turn around in his stomach.

"Who says I'm staying? I'll figure something out, Scarhead!" Draco seethed, he didn't like where this conversation was going, at all. He straightened his shoulders, ready to bear Potter's reaction. To Draco's surprise, the former Gryffindor didn't curse back.

"I'm not climbing the Eiffel Tower to fight with you, Malfoy. So would you shut up already, I'm trying to enjoy the view," Potter replied with irritation in his voice. This seemed to calm Draco down too. Potter was right, they shouldn't be fighting. It wasn't their fault that the card hadn't worked and that they had wound up sharing the same room.

They were adults now, completely capable of handling that stuff. Even though screaming at one another, half naked in a steamy bathroom was everything except adult's behavior, Draco knew he had to try to talk civilized to the bespectacled man. He sighed, knowing that he had been reacting very immature. They climbed the steps in silence for a while.

"Did you know there are around 1600 steps before we're at the top?" Draco noted. He looked at Potter expectantly, the man had pulled a beige hoodie over his green shirt, which made him even look hotter, in Draco's eyes. Potter's answer made him snap out of his thoughts.

"No. I thought it were only 1000 or something. Do you think Hogwarts has this many steps?" Potter replied thoughtfully. Draco almost smiled at that, but managed to keep his mask intact.

"How typical of you to start talking about Hogwarts. No, I don't think there are as many stairs. Most of the staircases can move, which means that you can reach more destinations while using less stairs."

"Right. Didn't think about that," Potter smiled. Draco fell silent, still observing the man. It was weird seeing Potter smile about something he had said. Draco had always hated his smile. Potter had a beautiful smile, but that was not the reason why he hated it. He always hated his smile, because he had never been at the receiving side of that smile.

The way his lips curled up made all Draco's worries disappear. It was a very contagious smile, as soon as his white teeth popped out and his emerald orbs sparkled, you felt the need to return the favor. It had been very childish to hate such a wonderful smile. Without wanting, Draco's face lightened up too.

"Why are you smiling so goofily?" Potter chortled, looking at Draco amused. Draco felt comfortable under his gaze, feeling light in the head and experiencing trouble to compose a proper reply.

"I'm just, … Never mind," Draco responded absent minded. How could they converse so naturally, while all they had been doing in the past was fight? Draco knew a lot of time had passed since, and that they were a lot more mature now; it still felt kind of weird. They had always been supposed to argue, to be enemies and not like one another's company. Right now, Draco had to admit that he wouldn't want to be in anyone else's company.

Harry looked at the blonde in amusement. He had never seen Malfoy smile so genuine. In fact, it had almost seemed to Harry that the former Slytherin couldn't smile at all. His smile was something Harry had never seen before. It was a rare and precious thing to see, and it made Harry's heart jump that the smile was directed to him. The pink lips revealed his snow white teeth, his grey eyes clearing up, shining as bright diamonds. Harry was captured in those eyes, not having seen that emotion before.

It was soothing to see the man so carefree. Harry thought back to sixth year, when his face had been scrunched up by anxiety. It had never really occurred to Harry how beautiful Malfoy was, without his sneer around his lips, or his eyes clouded with anger or fear. It felt good to see that he had recovered from the war, and somehow made his life worthwhile.

Harry sighed. Everything had changed so much since then. People had died, and the ones left behind had tried to build a new life. Ron and Hermione had gotten married. Harry remembered their wedding like it was yesterday. All of the Weasleys had been there, Molly's eyes glistering with tears of joy; Hermione's hair styles elegantly, as if it had been at the Yule ball. Harry had never seen Ron so happy before, and by the way the redhead had looked at Hermione; Harry could tell that they would be together forever.

He and Ginny had tried, but failed. Marriage with her was just something that gave him the creeps. He didn't love Ginny the way he was supposed to love her. He had always thought more of her as a sister, and marrying her was not in Harry's future. Malfoy had become an Auror, leaving behind his past of a Death Eater, and Harry had chased his own dreams of becoming a Healer.

Everything seemed perfect. Even Ginny was engaged right now, Seamus Finnigan had asked her during their holiday; which was about 3 weeks ago. Everybody was happy, the wounds from the war healing, scars fading, and everything would be perfect. Except for Harry. He felt lonely sometimes. It wasn't some kind of loneliness his friends could make disappear. It was different; consuming all his happy thoughts. But he had kept these feelings hidden from the world.

He had thought, after the war would end, everything would be figured out, falling in place. But the war had caused chaos in Harry's head, making him experience stuff that had changed his mind completely. His scar still burned in his nightmares, and when Harry woke up, there was no one there to comfort or reassure him. He was alone.

"Let's rest a bit here," Harry began, plopping down on one of the steps. His glance travelled over the large park that surrounded the Tower. "It's really beautiful here, don't you think?"

Malfoy sat down gracefully next to him, in a way Harry found admirable, nodding in silence. How weird was it that they were getting along and were easy-going with each other. Harry knew it wouldn't last, but he enjoyed it nevertheless.

That evening at the farm, Harry went upstairs to the guest room to find Malfoy. "Hey. Do you want me to show you around? It'll make things easier tomorrow."

"What things?" Malfoy groused, looking up from a book that he had been reading. Harry saw him putting it away and got curious.

"What are you reading?"

"Nothing. It's none of your business. I asked you a question," Malfoy barked. Harry felt his temper rise, ready to shoot a retort back, but sighed instead. He didn't feel like making fuss over a trivial subject again. He could see Malfoy's guard was up, emotions hidden behind a blank, grey expression. He calmed down just enough to compose a normal answer.

"You know what I meant. Feeding the animals and such. If you already know where they are, it will make it easier for us tomorrow." Harry took a step closer in the room, waiting patiently for Malfoy's response.

"Us?" Malfoy fumed. He didn't even try to be friendly. Harry knew their amicable behavior wouldn't have lasted, but Malfoy's answer pinched anyway. Deep down he had hoped it wouldn't be like this. He wasn't capable of taming his temper anymore, angriness boiling in his chest.

"Yes us, Malfoy. Unless you want to do it alone, which is perfectly fine with me. And if you want to keep fighting like this for the rest of the week, that's fine with me too! But first, please let me know because if that's the case, I'm not talking to you anymore!" Harry snorted. This seemed to do the trick.

Malfoy was taken by surprise. They remained silent for a while, Harry breathing heavily in the doorway, while Malfoy got the book out again. Harry watched attentively.

"This is my favorite book. It's called 'Lonely Sometimes' by-"

"René Collenfirth," Harry finished. "I didn't know you liked reading romantic novels," he grinned.

"Actually, I loved reading it when I was young. I used to read all summer, back at the Manor. I didn't have any friends to play with, so my mother bought me all sorts of novels to keep me occupied. My father whole-heartedly disapproved," Malfoy replied. Harry was surprised by the honesty in his voice, wanting to look into the blonde's averted eyes as he spoke. It was difficult to imagine the child version of Malfoy as a reader, since he kept picturing Hermione for some reason.

"It's my favorite book too," Harry chuckled. "Weird, huh?" He couldn't think of anything else to say, not knowing how far their friendly tone would reach, without pulling at a heartstring.

"Yeah," Malfoy murmured, captured in his own thoughts. Harry came closer and sat down on the bed, next to him. He could feel the body heat radiating from the taller man, swallowing thickly to banish thoughts of earlier this day.

"You're full of surprises. I didn't know you liked reading about Muggles," Harry said softly. He ignored the urge to get closer to the man, leaning backwards every time he saw the distance shrink without wanting it to.

"Well, I don't particularly hate books with Muggles, but I really love this one. It's just because, … I don't know. Something about the plot just pulls me in," Malfoy told Harry, while browsing through the book thoughtfully. He seemed obvious about his own delightfulness.

"Me too. The lonely Muggle gets saved by the Witch and can't get her out of his head anymore. It's lovely." Harry smiled to himself, pleased by their conversation and their relaxed way of talking.

"Don't make it sound like it's a cliché. The Muggle has been through a lot!" Malfoy replied defensively, snapping the book shut to empower his words. This made Harry's smile widen.

"I know, I know. I love it just as much as you do," he chortled. He remained silent after that. It was peculiar. Once they stopped fighting, Harry remarked, they had quite a few things in common. They agreed about that book, they liked the same country. Harry was curious to what the rest of the holiday would bring.

Potter was sitting so close, Draco could feel Potter's warmth radiating from his skin. It didn't really bother him that it was making him feel uncomfortable; the tension in his belly was driving him insane. At first, Draco thought Potter was trying to make a scene with his small talks. Trying to mock him with his book. But after his outburst, Draco realized yet again that they weren't in Hogwarts anymore.

They didn't need to fight about random stuff. It didn't matter anymore. Draco didn't have to defend himself for his actions at Hogwarts, since Potter didn't bring them up. They would have to, sooner or later, if they remained friends, but right now that subject was too sensitive and too painful to bring up. Draco had been convinced that Potter would want him to pay for his mistakes; that being the reason of his defensive behavior. But he realized his guard was creating a certain distance between them, a distance that he didn't want to be there.

Draco experienced that he liked the conversation. Potter was actually fun to talk with, his eyes brightening when he smiled at various moments, always just in time to reassure Draco that he wasn't saying something idiotic.

At this point, Draco had to keep himself from blabbing all sort of personal stuff, because Potter could make him talk in a way he wouldn't even talk to his best friend. He had never told anyone about liking this book. Every time he looked up, he felt drawn to those green eyes, wanting nothing else than to drown in them. He avoided his eyes each time, ignoring the tugging feeling in his neck.

"I accept your offer to show me around, if you haven't repealed it yet," Draco expounded. Potter stood up, enlarging the distance between them, and Draco relaxed a bit more. Apart from his childish beliefs that Potter was a bespectacled nerd, he had to admit the man looked very handsome. The word sexy had also popped into the blonde's head, but he had erased the combination of 'Potter' and 'Sexy' as fast as he could. If Potter would have still been sitting there, Draco was rather convinced he would have sprung upon him. Draco rose and followed the Savior, who was making his way outside.

"Okay. So, we'll start with the chickens," Potter began, while walking across the courtyard to a chicken coop. "Every morning you have to grab the eggs, check their water and give them some grain." He opened the coop while talking, shuffling between the chickens to show Draco how to fill up the water, where to put the grain, and how to grab the eggs without disturbing the hens.

"Eggs, water and grain," Draco repeated, nodding his head. His nose wriggled, smelling the droppings of the chickens. He wanted to make a remark about it, the words being on the tip of his tongue. Still, Potter had made sure he could stay without having to pay, so he was obliged to fulfill these bothersome tasks. He held his head high, following the raven haired man without complaining.

After making sure the chicken coop was locked, Potter turned left and went to the stables, while Draco's distaste increased. Reluctantly, he entered the cow's stable, almost fainting when the smell penetrated his nose. The chickens were smelling delicious in comparison to that stench.

"All you have to do is feed them. You just fill those large food bowls with this," Harry instructed, pointing at the bags with feed piled up against the wall. As Potter grabbed the bag, which weighed around 30 kilos, Draco saw the muscles in his back harden. He swallowed hard, trying not to think about being aroused in a cow's stable. "You can do that with the wheelbarrow here, and the spade there. The worst is the smell," Potter explained. He threw the content of the bag in the wheelbarrow and wheeled through the passage made in the middle of the stable.

"I hadn't noticed that yet," Draco mocked. He had considered breathing through his mouth, but didn't want that filthy air in his mouth, so he tried to ignore the tendency to vomit. He had observed the amount of cow dung, that would make his mother faint within seconds. Draco already started to quiver while thinking about cleaning this mess. Potter chose to ignore his comment and exited the cow stables. Draco gasped for fresh air, feeling all the more dreadful and hoping that the tour would end shortly.

"Then last but not least, the pigs," Potter announced, walking to another stable.

"Pigs. Gruesome! Why don't they have horses here? At least they don't roll in the mud," Draco howled, feeling like he was drowning in misery. Potter was pushing him to his extremes.

Harry was trying his hardest to keep his face neutral, guiding a desperate Malfoy to the pigs' pen. "They can't have all creatures, Malfoy. They sell their pigs for slaughter, which probably gains a lot of money. Horses aren't made to slaughter, so that's probably the reason why they don't have any."

"It's cruel. Watching those piglets grow up and then sell them for their skin," Malfoy pouted. The way he said it sounded like he was an animal lover; and it made Harry giggle.

"I hadn't thought you'd be a nature activist, Malfoy. Be glad you only have to feed them," Harry chuckled. He was surprised Malfoy was still following him on his tour. Harry had thought he'd refuse to enter the stables, but instead he had hardly complained up until now. He knew it had to be hard for him, and Harry could tell he was doing his best not to harp.

"Are we done now?"Malfoy whined. They were leaving the pigs' pen and walking back to the farm on the unpaved path.

"Yeah, I guess. That is until tomorrow," Harry teased. Malfoy's face darkened, making it all the more amusing for Harry. In the past, he would have given all his gold at Gringotts to see Malfoy's face in front of pigs. Harry was so caught up in the thought of a sulking Malfoy that he didn't see the muddy puddle in front of him.

He splashed through it, mud spattering over his pants – and Malfoy's pants. Harry froze in horror, scoffing at himself for being so stupid. But that was a mild reaction compared to Malfoy's.

"Potter!" Malfoy bawled. "Can't you look where you're going?! Look what you've done! My clothes are ruined!" His face, which was usually pale, turned red in fury. Harry found it really distracting; his mind fantasizing about other ways to turn it into that shade.

"I'm sorry," Harry apologized, seeing that Malfoy's white pants was covered in dirt. It was really a shame, because even though Harry wasn't fashion-conscious, he could tell those trousers had been expensive. Probably more expensive than all his clothes together. "I didn't mean to-" But Harry couldn't finish his sentence, as he was pushed over and fell with his buttocks right into the mud. Shock took place for rage in a matter of seconds. "MALFOY! Was that necessary?" he ranted.

"You ruined my pants, Potter. That's what they call payback," Malfoy snarled. Harry knew he would have been angry too if that had happened to him, but he didn't mean to soil his slacks. Harry felt his temper rising. He tried to ignore the spur to kill the blonde, but instead he jumped out of the puddle, grabbing Malfoy's blonde hair in his muddy hands and smearing the dirt all over the former Slytherin's face.

"I'll pay you back, Ferretface!" Harry bellowed. He was wearing his favorite clothes himself, which Malfoy had devastated just moments ago. It weren't only his favorite clothes, it were also the clothes Hermione had bought for his birthday last month. He bumped into the thinner man, pushing Malfoy over in his action. In his rage, Harry didn't control his strength anymore and fell on top of his current roommate, splashing dirt over both of them. If their clothes hadn't been ruined before, they certainly were now.

They wrestled and rolled around, both trying to inflict as much damage as possible to the other. Harry was blinded by fury, hitting Malfoy in the face. Because of his recklessness, he half missed his face, whereby he hit him only half as hard as he had meant to. Malfoy, surprising Harry with his power, pushed Harry over and knocked him into the ground. Harry struggled, trying to get out of the blonde's grip.

The moment heated up, Harry's anger slowly started to fade away and made room for something else. He slowly stopped fighting back. Their bodies were tangled together, both men covered in mud, panting heavily. Harry felt how the heat from his face slowly sank to his abdomen.

Realizing he was getting aroused, Harry froze. Someone who hadn't seen them fighting before, would have thought they were snogging in the dirt. This wasn't supposed to happen. He tried to crawl away from under Malfoy, but from the second he budged, bucking up his hips, he knew he shouldn't have. The more he moved, the hornier he became.

Draco was infuriated, smashing Potter down into the puddle. How dare he soil his hair and only seconds before his trouser? He knocked the muscular man over and sat on top of him. He smashed his glasses off his face, probably blinding Potter as he did so, but he could care less. Potter tried to escape wriggling his body against Draco's. He clasped his hips around the raven haired man, trying to stop him from crawling away. The inevitable happened, as Draco's blood started to flow to his groin. He knew he shouldn't be getting aroused, since he was really pissed off, but he couldn't help that his heart sped up the more Potter tried to get away.

Draco tried to undo Potter from him, but it was useless, since they both did the opposite, causing more chaos. Draco felt alarmed. This wasn't the moment to shag somebody. He needed to get off Potter right this instant, otherwise the Boy Who Lived would notice he was turned on by a mud fight. Well, Draco admitted that things had gotten highly heated up, and one would get aroused for less than that. Draco moved his legs, their erections touched, a wave of pleasure washing over Draco and they both froze.

Draco didn't dare to speak. They were lying on the path, faces only inches away, shock in both their faces. Their erections were still touching, neither wanting to shift, afraid of what movement would engender. Someone inside Draco's head must've pushed the play button, because suddenly he got up and helped Potter to his feet as well.

They marched to the farmhouse in silence. Draco felt awkward. Why had he been aroused by a stupid fight? And why was Potter as heated up as he was? This situation was really getting out of hand. The thing that frightened him the most was the fact that this was the second time in only 2 days. Draco tried to push that thought away, but his body craved for another touch of the black haired man.

Desire rushed through Harry's body as they walked up to his room. Harry wanted to get away from Malfoy, as far as possible, because he did things to him that Harry didn't want to talk nor think about. Only moments ago, he had been ready to let Malfoy fuck him senseless, hard and wet in the soil. Luckily, the latter had broken their trance and led them to the guest room.

He entered the bathroom, Malfoy in his wake.

"I'll clean myself up first," Harry stated, turning around to make Malfoy leave. The last thing he needed was a half naked Malfoy next to him in the shower, or a dirty Malfoy watching how he cleaned himself.

"I'm not waiting to clean this mess up, Potter. I won't let this filthy sludge dry on my clothes," Malfoy spat. Aparantly, Malfoy had completely recovered from his shock or arousal, since his guard was up again. Harry had been curious about the lust in the man's grey eyes, having never seen it before. The new emotion had appealed him, making him curious for more.

"I'm not waiting either," Harry growled, stepping into the shower. It was easier to be mad at a fiery, Hogwarts Malfoy than to the one he had seen moments ago. Malfoy stepped in right after him. They barely fit into the small place, standing almost chest to chest. Harry wanted to push the man away, but was scared as to what a simple touch might cause, so he let the muddy blonde be. He turned the water tab on. Water poured out the shower head, damp filling the narrow place within seconds.

Harry thought about this morning when he had seen Malfoy naked. His blood immediately started to stream faster, undoing Harry's work of calming himself down. He tried rubbing the dirt off, but when he did so he nudged Malfoy, so he quickly cut it out. He resisted the urge to lean a bit forward against Malfoy's chest and decided to just let the water do its work.

Harry looked up and saw that Malfoy was watching him, a unseen emotion clouding his grey eyes, making it hard for Harry to breathe. Harry's eyes traveled down to Malfoy's pink lips and he swallowed. How would it feel to kiss those thin lips?

Harry closed his eyes, trying to ban the thought of kissing Malfoy out of his mind, but failing disastrously. Since when did he have a thing for men? Admitted, he hadn't been with women since Ginny, but he really had been in love with her. Then gradually she had become more of a sister to him and, cancelled the wedding plans, and she moved back in the Burrow.

Ever since, he hadn't been in love, hadn't been aroused by a woman, and hadn't had sex. Yes, you read it correctly, the Hero hadn't had sex in about 5 years. Harry had been able to cope with that thought effortlessly. However, right now the thought of sex blew his mind and clouded his eyesight.

Malfoy's white clothes had practically become transparent, soaked with water. Harry couldn't help but watch the man, ardor growing in his stomach. He tried to keep his eyes shut. He kept opening them, viewing how the blonde locks clung on his forehead, dark with water, seeing his chest rise and fall in a rhythmic way, and noticing the lump in his trousers.

Draco wanted to protest. He wanted to step out of his life for a moment and catch his breath. Standing under the shower with Potter was about the last thing that he had imagined doing with his rival, but it was also the hottest thing he had ever done.

Okay, taking a shower on its own wasn't hot at all, but standing next to a pink cheeked Potter with almost see-through clothes on was very sensational. He could practically read in his green eyes what the man was thinking, Potter not being able to keep his emotions at bay.

The only thing Draco could think of was kissing the man senseless. He wondered what Potter would taste like. He wondered what Potter would feel like when he made love to him. He wondered, but didn't dare to go beyond that. He just stood there, drowning in green orbs filled with lust, his hands twitching to prevent from touching the man all over.

Draco had put on his pajamas in a separate room, relieved that the shower was over, but still was obliged to sleep next to Potter. How would he be able to do that?

Yesterday, the thought of sleeping next to Potter was terrifying, because he would have chosen to sleep in the pigs' stable over Potter's bed. Right now, the thought of sleeping next to Potter was as terrifying as yesterday, but not for the same reasons. It was terrifying because he wasn't allowed to do anything else than sleeping.

To be continued…

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