Draco couldn't sleep. He stared at the ceiling and wished he had a Time Turner so he could wind the clock back and undo his decision to call the escort service. He'd obviously misunderstood Harry's intent, thought too much about it, and ruined everything. He told himself that it shouldn't be a big deal. It shouldn't bother him. It shouldn't linger and keep him awake. But it did.
Around three in the morning he was just drifting off when a rapid, rhythmic tap at his door brought him back around. He tossed a black and gold satin robe over his shoulders and yanked the door open.
A white key fob halted in mid-air and fell to the floor with a tiny thump. Draco scooped it up and immediately felt the tug. Without even checking his hair he stumbled forward and followed the draw of the little object. It drew him around the corner, past the conference room, and down the guest corridor. At the fifth door it stopped. Room 205.
As though it would stop anywhere else.
Draco touched the fob to the handle and the lock disengaged, which allowed him to push the door open and peer inside. Harry was sitting by the window, his bed still made. He looked up at Draco's arrival and rose to his feet.
"You seem to have lost this," Draco held out the fob.
"Did I wake you?" Harry didn't close the distance between them.
"No," Draco tossed the fob onto the entertainment stand. "How can I help you?" He remained in the doorway, keeping one foot planted in the hall as an emotional buffer.
"There's something I need to tell you." Harry said. He sat on the edge of the bed and rubbed his face. "And I realize you might not think well of me when I say it."
"Say it," Draco's heart pounded. He had no idea where this was going.
"There's a reason why it's not anonymous for me," Harry took a shaky breath. "It hasn't been five years since I last spoke to you."
Draco's heart stopped pounding. Suddenly he knew exactly where this was going.
"Do you recall a series of masquerade parties a few years ago, gentlemen only?" Harry asked.
"Yes," Draco breathed. Everything clicked into place. "You were the one who brought Longbottom."
"You knew it was him?" Harry looked up in surprise.
"Not until last night," Draco said. "When I heard him laugh I made the connection."
"Did you know who I was?" Harry asked.
"No," Draco said honestly. "I had no idea you were there. How did you know who I was?"
"Recognized your voice," Harry smiled weakly. "It's distinctive."
"Did we ever..." Draco waved his hand to imply sex.
"No," Harry shook his head. "You never chose me."
"I never really chose anyone, Potter," Draco said. "Don't take it personally. Longbottom was in the minority."
"I realized who you were at the very first one I attended," Harry said. "We spoke directly. I heard your voice and I knew."
"Why did you continue talking to me if you knew?"
"You were different," Harry said. "You weren't cruel. You were calmer, I suppose. You told me that you'd just come back from a year or so in the Caribbean." He shrugged. "I didn't know if you'd changed in general or if you just didn't know it was me. But it was nice talking to you like a real person. Like mates."
"I don't remember," Draco said. "It was such a strange time for me, the transition back here to my former life. It wasn't easy."
"The second time I went Neville asked if he could come. He's a little bi-curious," he smiled.
"Who isn't?"
"I didn't tell him who you were," Harry looked up again. "He never figured it out. You and I spoke for a bit, then you and Neville spoke by the bar, then you went out to the balcony."
"Merlin," Draco rubbed his eyes. "If I had known who he was I certainly wouldn't have."
"It doesn't bother me," Harry said. "It's the whole point of those parties." He looked down at his hands. "I asked Neville how it went afterwards. He said you were kind to him, but he didn't want to do it again."
"Was I that bad?"
"It wasn't like that," he chuckled. "It was fine, he just wasn't turned on like he thought he would be."
"I'm still a little insulted."
"Afterwards you and I spoke for a bit, and then again at the next two parties," Harry said. "And then you stopped coming."
"It wasn't my cup of tea," Draco said. "Getting laid isn't hard. Finding someone who's worthy of more than sex is what's hard. That whole mask thing seemed to make it harder."
Harry took a deep breath. "So the thing is, I felt like I'd had a chance to see you in a new way. And I already knew I was attracted to you. And Neville told me a lot about what you were like..." It was his turn to gesture to indicate sex. He winced, "Sorry, I know it probably sounds a bit pervy, me knowing this about you but you not knowing about me."
"Keep talking," Draco leaned on the door frame. "You can still pull this one out of a nose-dive."
Harry grinned sheepishly. "Even if I tell you that you've sort of been the star of my wank-bank for the last two years?"
"You're lucky I'm a man, Potter. I can't imagine what would happen if you said that to a woman."
"I'd really like a chance to get to know you again," Harry ignored him. "If you'll give me a chance."
"I don't know," Draco cocked an eyebrow. "You're kind of a creep."
The door to the room next door clattered open and Ron stuck his head out into the corridor, hair rumpled and eyes bloodshot with exhaustion and drink.
"In or out. Some of us are trying to sleep," he snapped.
"Right," Draco stepped back into the hallway. Harry snatched his key fob off of the table and followed him.
"Merlin," Ron sighed and withdrew into his room.
"Where do you think you're going?" Draco folded his arms across his chest. He affected an annoyed posture but in truth his heart was racing and his skin tingled from their proximity.
A grin spread across Harry's face.
"Go ahead and say it."
"Is the spa open?"
"You're mad."
Draco led the way downstairs and across the atrium to the bend in the corridor that ended in the door to the spa. They descended the two steps to the gleaming white marble floor and Draco went to the cubicle by habit to change into a uniform.
"What did you have in mind?" he asked as he emerged.
"It's half past three in the morning," Harry said. "I didn't really have a spa treatment in mind."
"Well you said spa, so choose something," Draco raised an eyebrow. He couldn't quite keep the teasing smile from lifting the corner of his mouth.
"Okay, mud bath," Harry raised his chin challengingly.
"Fine, get undressed." Draco accepted the challenge. He wasn't sure what game they were playing, but as with everything else they did it was a game nonetheless. It had always been that way, a constant grapple for power.
Harry's grin nearly split his face now. Rather than adjourning to the dressing cubicle he stripped down tub-side and stood in unabashed nudity as Draco swished to fill the tub.
"Like what you see?" He echoed Draco's earlier question by the pool.
"You've never been one for subtlety," Draco said. But yeah, he liked what he saw.
Harry handed over his glasses, then climbed into the deep tub and sank in up to his chin, exhaling in a satisfied gust. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back, a blissful smile spread across his lips.
"That's okay, I'll just sit here and let you rest instead of getting sleep of my own," Draco grumbled.
Harry looked up at him. "Come on then," he scooted over to the edge of the tub and patted the surface of the mud with a sloppy plop.
"Right," Draco snorted.
"Come on," Harry sat up and swiped for Draco's arm.
"Are you mad?" Draco didn't dodge his grip, but he also didn't move to comply.
"Maybe, let's find out," Harry tugged him closer until the edge of the tub was pressed up against his thighs.
"I don't know that two people can fit in one of those things," Draco was stalling. He didn't know what to think. Two in a mud bath? Not to mention it would require them to be crowded in together, pressed up against each other—
Suddenly Harry popped up out of the bath, and with a silly laugh he threw his arms around Draco's waist and pulled him off balance, toppling him into the mud with a graceless splash.
"Potter!" Draco struggled to keep his head above the surface as the viscous liquid sucked him down into its suspension.
"You're okay, I've got you," Harry shifted so that they were lined up alongside each other. "See? Two fit just fine."
Draco gawked at him at close proximity. "You're a nutter, you know that?"
"I know that," Harry murmured. His smile softened and he slid his arms around Draco's waist, holding them together in the undulating bath.
Just then the mud around Draco began to froth. It fizzed and popped and misted away in wafts of smoke.
"My uniform," Draco tried to struggle out of the bath. "The charm is trying to evaporate the mud."
"Then get rid of it," Harry reached up with messy hands and slipped his shirt buttons free, then peeled it back from Draco's shoulders. He tossed it carelessly across the room and it was clean and white before it hit the floor. Then he plunged his hands into the bath and tugged at Draco's trousers, which he helped to strip off of his legs if only to rid himself from the disconcertingly fizzy feeling. Then his pants, too, were flung free.
Harry trailed his fingers down Draco's back and over the curve of his arse, eliciting a delighted shudder that Draco couldn't have repressed if he'd tried. He hesitantly extended his own arms and curled them around Harry's waist as though sudden movements might scare him. But Harry wasn't scared. He drew Draco in closer, until only a thin layer of volcanic ash mud separated their bodies, floating in the bath but anchored to each other by their arms and legs.
Their faces were close, foreheads touching and breath ghosting across each other's skin. Draco's heart was beating so fast that he thought it might pop. Was this really happening? How was it possible? How could Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter end up naked in a bath together?
Harry raised one muddy hand and touched Draco behind his ear. Then he pressed in and kissed Draco gently. Draco drew a sharp breath but his hands reflexively clutched Harry closer and he pressed back with unleashed need. Harry responded in kind and in no time they were slipping their tongues across each other and kissing with an urgency that couldn't be denied. Draco's mind focused down to just one thought: consume Harry Potter.
He rolled over on top of Harry and floated above him in the mud matrix, their cocks just barely drifting across each other and sending absurd ripples of pleasure up and down their bodies. Harry tightened his grip around his waist and pulled him closer until Draco was spread across him like butter on toast.
Harry dipped his mouth into the curve of Draco's neck and then pulled back with a surprised chuckle. "The only place that isn't muddy is your face."
"Then clearly you should be focusing your energy there," Draco raised an eyebrow. Harry grinned and pressed in again.
The warm mud flowed around and between them, holding them together, then moving them apart, the buoyancy so much like weightlessness that Draco felt as though he were flying. It was disorienting and new and wonderful and thrilling and he wondered how he had gone his whole life without trying this before.
His hand made its journey south without his awareness, and when he grasped Harry's cock it elicited a jolt of surprise from both of them. Harry immediately mirrored his grip and squeezed, and they both groaned gutturally in response. The ash was finely milled, so much so that it was as slick as oil and made for a frictionless stroke that made Draco light-headed.
They kissed deeply, pushing and reaching with their tongues as their hands worked, stroking each other towards a climax that could not be held off for long. Draco had been sucked to full release earlier that morning but Harry seemed pent up and desperate for relief. Draco curled his hand around Harry's arse and squeezed hard, his fingers straying into sensitive areas and pressing without stretching him or allowing mud to enter.
Harry responded by bucking against him and stroking faster, his other hand wound around Draco's neck and holding him close as he kissed him like he was drawing life's breath.
Draco marched his pace and pulled over and over, allowing the slippery mud to coat Harry's shaft so his fingers could pull fast and hard without burning. Harry moaned into his mouth and then pulled away, tossing his head back and groaning at the ceiling.
"Like that, do you?" Draco's gasp came out significantly less saucy than he intended, but it was hard to keep his cool when the leading edge of orgasm was coiling up at the base of his spine.
Harry nodded shakily, his breath ragged and feverish. Draco knew that look. He was about to—
"Malfoy!" Harry shouted, his voice cracking and his hips thrusting wildly, churning the mud into gloppy waves as he came hard into Draco's hand. The sensation of a different sort of warm slickness kicked off a chain reaction in Draco, and instantly he was rocketing over the top, too.
They whimpered and shook and twitched and gasped for breath as the furious climax left them mutually sated. They laid silently together for a while, floating in the warm bath, their arms encircling each other in the volcanic ash.
"It's nearly four in the morning," Draco finally murmured. Harry's eyes had been drifting closed but now they fluttered open. He traced a finger through the flaky dried ash on Draco's exposed shoulder and then leaned in to kiss him again.
"I could just fall asleep like this." His voice was so quiet that it was more of a rumble than speech.
"I'll not have you drown in a pool of mud. Think of the bad press," Draco sniffed haughtily.
"That's the only downside, eh?" Harry reached around and pressed his fingers into Draco's back muscles.
"Hnng," Draco grunted. "That feels good."
"If we can't sleep here, we should go get cleaned up," Harry withdrew his hand and heaved himself up out of the mud.
Draco sighed and hauled himself up, too. They stepped out into the cold floor but before Harry could find his robe Draco grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the shower.
"Don't act like you're suddenly interested in covering up," he said.
They piled into the private shower stall and cranked the taps. Outside their muddy footprints boiled away on the charmed tile. Beneath the cascade of hot water gray mud eroded from their skin in long rivulets that ran in tinted streaks to the drain. Draco turned on Harry and stared hard into his eyes.
Have your way with me, will you, Potter? We'll see about that.
He pushed Harry up against the shower wall and crashed their mouths together. Harry's back stiffened in surprise, then relaxed as the stiffness worked its way south. Draco snarled and pinned his wrists to the tile above their heads, overcome with the desire to tip the balance of power again.
Harry was breathing hard, his pupils wide and intensely focused on Draco's face. He didn't fight back, he let himself be held captive beneath the rushing spray.
Draco crushed his mouth again and released one wrist so he could run his palm over the hills and valleys of Harry's muscles until he reached his bollocks, and then he walked his hand between his legs to the short stretch of skin where a firm nudge awakened his prostate. Just a test, Potter. Let's see how you like—
"Fuck me," Harry breathed, his eyes fluttering closed.
Okay, apparently you like it.
"Lift," Draco hoisted Harry's thigh and tucked his waist behind his raised knee. He tickled his fingers across Harry's entrance and teased around the puckered skin. Then, without resistance, he slipped his first finger in.
Harry clenched around him and moaned in relief. He pressed down and took Draco's invasion eagerly, which Draco found simply marvelous. He slipped a second finger inside and scissored in tiny motions, eliciting just a brief flash of a grimace from Harry, before it melted into ecstasy again.
"Don't let me push you too fast," Draco murmured. "I don't want to hurt you."
Harry's brilliant green eyes opened and he focused on Draco now, still and calm beneath the shower spread. A smile spread across his face and he leaned forward for a kiss.
"Who are you and what have you done with Draco Malfoy?" he asked gently.
Draco couldn't suppress a small laugh. "You'd better hope I'm Draco Malfoy or you've got some stranger's fingers up your bum."
Harry threw his head back and laughed, the muscle convulsions traveling all the way down to Draco's hand. Draco flexed his fingers, curtailing the laugh and capturing Harry's attention once again.
"Time enough for jokes later," he murmured, working his fingers and coaxing Harry's muscles into relaxation.
When he slipped in the third finger he was certain Harry was beyond distraction. The man whimpered and pressed down, desperate for more, his face flushed with need. Draco withdrew and turned him by his hips, then positioned him slightly bent over with his hands planted on the tile wall.
Entering was like going home. Draco pressed into the firm heat of Harry's body and felt himself surrounded by the tight, amazing pressure of Harry's body pushing back. In spite of himself he groaned in a rather undignified way. Harry groaned back.
He began to push now, thrusting in small increments at first, then becoming more confident as Harry welcomed the motion. Draco reached around and tugged Harry's cock in counter-rhythm, but he could tell from the rapidly rising heat beneath his skin that climax was already near. Which was okay by Draco. He was near eruption, too.
Harry bore down in a useless effort to stave off climax for a few more precious seconds but it was beyond the point of no return. He thrust back against Draco and cried out, his face contorted into something resembling pain. Draco flexed under the sudden tightening and came like a rocket, his hips frozen in mid-push and his breath trapped in his throat. Then the paralysis broke and he thrust furiously as the remainder of his orgasm quickly expended itself.
"Merlin, Malfoy," Harry gasped, his head draped across his arm. Draco carefully pulled out and laid his head on Harry's shoulder blade.
Draco knew without a mirror that his face was flushed from the exertion. He tipped his head back and let the shower pour over him. Harry turned and folded Draco into his arms and kissed him long and deep before letting him go and rinsing off himself.
"Four thirty," Harry said as they stepped out of the shower. "My first meeting is at nine."
"Well why are you wasting your time?" Draco pulled his pyjama bottoms over his hips. "Messing about here instead of sleeping," he shook his head in mock-disapproval.
Harry tossed his shirt around his shoulders and shrugged. "I've been campaigning to have our annual retreat booked at Jumeaux for two years. I couldn't leave without getting the most out of my visit."
"Two years?" Draco waved for Harry to precede him into the hall.
"It wasn't easy convincing a bunch of Aurors that we should spend our three-day outing at a spa resort," Harry paused in the atrium and eyed Draco closely. "Or did you think this was all a coincidence?"
Draco stared at him as the realization set in. It all made sense now: Harry's friendliness, his immediate interest in spa services, even his assumption that Draco swung that way and might be receptive to his advances.
"You're a bit of a creep, aren't you?" he finally said.
"Does it bother you?" Harry's smile disappeared. "I'm really not a creep, Malfoy. If we hadn't known each other for years, if there wasn't all of that baggage to work around—"
"Just go upstairs," Draco shoved his shoulder and waved him up the marble staircase. "Take a left at the top."
Harry obeyed and made his way to Draco's door, where the wards released and admitted them into the parlor of the penthouse suite. Draco flourished his hand and made a big show of pulling a key fob out of thin air and handing it over.
"Don't lose this," he said. "I can't have just any old man showing up at my door."
"Is this your place?" Harry looked around in surprise. "You're really giving me a key?"
"I can keep it if you'd like," Draco reached to take it back.
"No," Harry whipped it behind his back.
"Go on, then. It's going to be sunrise soon," Draco waved him to the end of the suite where his bedroom looked out over the pool on one side and the charmed view on the other.
Harry checked him for approval one more time and then climbed beneath the sheets. Draco climbed in next to him and rolled on his side in a clear invitation to be spooned from behind. Harry complied without hesitation.
"So I guess this means you fancy me," Harry murmured in his ear as he curled an arm around his waist.
"I'm sorry, am I sending mixed messages?" Draco asked. Sex had made him smug.
Harry chucked. "No, very clear."
"What about you?"
"I can't possibly be sending mixed messages."
"No," Draco yawned. "What I mean is, have you always liked me? Like back in our school days?"
"No, I didn't like you back then."
Draco thought that was fair. He'd been pretty screwed up as a kid. And not very pleasant, he had to admit.
"I liked you," he murmured. "It was half of the reason I hated you."
Harry rolled him onto his back and looked into his eyes in a moment of seriousness. He brushed Draco's hair back and smiled, then rolled him over and tucked in behind him again. He snuggled in close and squeezed Draco with his arm. He nuzzled the outline of his ear and planted a kiss just behind his earlobe. The sensation sent gooseflesh rippling across Draco's arms and legs.
"I didn't like you back then," Harry said softly in Draco's ear. "But I really wanted to."