Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter it belongs to J.K. Rowling and I do not profit off this story.

Warnings: SLASH M/M (don't like don't read), Post DH, and slight AU.

AN: Sorry for any grammar/spelling errors etc. This story does not currently have a beta. Thank you, always, for reading and reviewing.

Love is Blind

Chapter Six: It's a Deal

Harry grumbled as his arm careless knocked into the corner of a wall. One, two, three, four….he was now standing in the entrance of the kitchen. Another seven steps and he would be by the stove. He had most of the house memorized by how many footsteps it took to get from Point A to Point B. It was too embarrassing to have Kreacher hold his hand and lead him around like a lost child. Of course, that didn't stop the elf from constantly tending to him. The instant Harry stepped into the kitchen, Kreacher popped in.

"What can I cook for you, Master Harry?"

"Just Harry," He sighed, knowing it was one request Kreacher wouldn't follow. "And I can cook for myself, thanks."

Kreacher tried to protest, but Harry would hear none of it. He summoned a few simple ingredients to make a sandwich, since it was one of the few things he could cook by feeling. He had tried the stove and learned his lesson just as a child would, ending up with a badly burnt hand to show for it.

He never was one to rely on others, not by choice, anyway. He preferred keeping to himself and his newfound blindness was a good excuse. Ever since he was young he had caused trouble for others and he was tired of losing those close to him because of his cursed life. It almost killed him, after the war learning that so many had died for the war…for him. It was better this way, to stay out of sight and mind. Now if only he could get rid of Malfoy, his problems would be solved. It was bloody annoying even thinking about the blonde and how he was just going to start popping in daily for chats as if he were an old friend. Hell, his old friends didn't even do that. Why couldn't anyone see that he just wanted to be left alone?

…

Draco cursed himself as he looked at the time; it was well past lunch, the time he promised to visit Potter. He had gotten so caught up in his work and research on Potter's case that he had lost track of the time. Quickly, he gathered all the files he had composed involving the Boy Who Lived before Apparating to Grimmauld Place.

It only took a moment for Draco to put on his usual mask of indifference as he strutted about Potter's parlor with no sign of said owner. "Hello?" he called, loudly. His voice echoing up and down the empty hallway in response.

"I'm in the kitchen!" an annoyed voice replied. Draco snorted in indignation. How dare Potter use that tone of voice with him. He was the one spending hours on finding a cure and losing sleep, not to mention sex over this stupid life debt. With a huff, Draco stormed into the kitchen, coming face to face with Saint Potter stuffing his face with some sort of sandwich.

"Hope, I'm not interrupting your late lunch." Draco said, sarcastically.

"This is breakfast," Harry corrected after swallowing a particularly large bite. "And you're not interrupting."

If only looks could kill, Draco thought as he glared at Harry. "Can you listen while you eat, Potter? Or do I have to wait for you to finish before explaining all the boring medical details?"

"I'm blind not deaf." Harry growled.

Draco took a seat across from Harry, loudly dropping his large stack of paperwork onto the table. "I beg to differ," he snorted. "But keep telling yourself that."

"Do you like hearing yourself talk, because you're wasting my time." Harry bit out through grit teeth.

"Don't get your knickers in a twist," Draco sneered. "Just making conversation. As for what I've found, it might be a bit risky using a counter spell, so I'd like to try a few potions first. However, the option is open if we end up needing it."

Harry raised his brow and Draco prattled off different potions, the subject never being his strong point. "So did you make them or not?" He interrupted.

"Again, you weren't listening." Draco chided. "I was saying some of the ingredients are difficult and bordering illegal. Some definitely are illegal so it's going to take some time to locate what I'll be needing."

"Can we just try the non illegal ones first?" Harry sighed, he was already sick of hearing Draco's voice. The blonde muttered something under his breath that sounded like some form of insult to Harry. "I fucking heard that!"

"Don't know what you're on about." Draco smiled, smugly.

Harry slammed his fist on the table, leaning forward, hoping he was getting in Malfoy's face. "You're still the same prat from school, you know that? I wouldn't care if my dead mother willed you to help me, if you don't want to be here then bloody leave! You're vile and cruel just like your father -"

"Don't you dare talk about my father!" Draco roared.

"I'll say whatever I like you stupid poof!"

It happened before Draco could even take back the action, his lips crashing against Harry's as they both leaned over the table. Potter thought he was gay? Fine he'd show him and shut him up. It was raw, all teeth and tongue, nothing like Astoria, Draco thought. He was surprised when Potter didn't push him away or hex him. He had hesitated at first, but soon was fighting Draco for dominance, putting all he had into the kiss.

The two broke apart for air, their heavy breathing filling the kitchen. Draco chuckled as he watched Harry trying to catch his breath. "Who's the poof now?"

Harry flashed him a cocky grin. "You, seeing as how you kissed me."

Draco saw red. He grasped the brunette's arm and shoved him onto the kitchen table. "I'll have you know that I've slept with more woman than you can count, Potter." He whispered, lowly into Harry's ear. "And I do believe you kissed back."

Harry let out a tiny gasp as he felt Draco nip at his ear, his neck and everything above it turning pink. A chuckle left the blonde as he pulled away, drinking in the image of a helpless Harry Potter splayed out beneath him.

"I'll make you a deal." Harry said, suddenly, catching Draco off guard.

"And what's that?"

"Either leave if you're not willing to help me or accept payment." Harry spoke slowly, as if thinking his own offer through.

Draco hummed in interest. "Money means nothing to me, Potter. So what could you possibly offer me?" Considering I've basically been forced into slavery, the blond mused as thought of George Weasley.

Harry licked his lips, steadying his breaths. "I'll give you something no one else can give."

"Out with it, Potter." Draco sniped, curious as to what the Boy Who Lived was holding over him.

"Me. I'll let you do whatever you want as payment for healing my eyes."

"W-what?" Draco stuttered, unable to understand why Harry would offer himself. "Why?"

"Because I can't give you anything else you don't already have." Harry replied, simply. "So is it a deal?"

The blonde stared at the boy below him, appraising the form that was sprawled out. His mind immediately jumped to Astoria and how this would affect their soon to be marriage, but the offer was just too good to pass up. At last, Harry Potter would be his to control. "Alright," He drawled. "But no telling the gingers." He added wanting this would to be solely between him and Potter. What everyone else didn't know couldn't hurt them.

Harry held out his hand and Draco firmly grasped it, both of them giving a rigid shake. Swiftly, Draco pulled Harry forward, his hand roughly laced in Harry's hair. "I'll start brewing tonight," He leaned in and ghosted his lips over Harry's. "See you tomorrow, Potter."

Harry waited until he heard a loud pop, signifying that Malfoy had left. He didn't want a bloody cure, but if this got Malfoy out of his house faster it was worth it.

At least he didn't have to look at the Malfoy's ferret face.