Thank you for your wonderful reviews! And thanks again to Lex for her wisdom on this story!

Second Chance: Part 3

Unfortunately, in order to get to his office, Draco had to pass by the office of his boss, which normally wouldn't be a problem except last night he'd snogged said boss and then ditched him rather rudely afterwards. Draco was early – as usual – but he knew that wouldn't make a difference since Potter was always in earlier than him anyway. He grit his teeth, hunching down slightly as though his shoulders might hide his face, and he stalked quickly and quietly passed the large glass windows of Potter's office.

He didn't even glance into Potter's office and he didn't look back once he got to the safety of his own desk, he just stood still and silent, listening to see if Potter's light footsteps had followed him down the corridor. They didn't.

Draco sank into his office chair with relief. He had toyed with the idea of not coming in today, but he knew he had too much work to do. Besides, he was going to have to face Potter eventually. He groaned. This was exactly the reason why he didn't want to start anything with Potter in the first place. He had told Quinton, but he wouldn't listen, he just had to push the issue and now everything was going to become awkward!

Draco huffed and began to organize his desk for his day's work; there was no point twitching in here like a nervous rabbit while he waited for Potter to storm in demanding to know why he'd run off after they kissed. He knew Potter would storm in there demanding that very thing as soon as the man knew he'd arrived, and he wasn't yet sure what he was going to tell him. Should he lie and say something like he'd just remembered he'd left his kitchen tap running and he had to rush home to turn it off? Or should he tell the truth and say that he enjoyed kissing him so much he got scared and ran away like a schoolgirl?

Neither seemed like attractive options, but luckily Draco didn't have to choose either because Potter never arrived. Actually, no one arrived. Draco spent four blissfully uninterrupted hours sorting out most of his cases, and had organized himself enough to be able to get out in the field that afternoon to chase up a few leads. It was odd really, he'd never gone this long without someone hassling him for something.

At noon he had his first visitor – the one he'd been dreading all day. "How's it all going?" Potter asked him softly.

"Pretty good actually, I've been able to get heaps done," he replied, ignoring his thumping heart.

"I thought you'd appreciate some quiet time. I had everyone direct anything for you to me just for this morning, so there are a few people you'll need to Floo back eventually, but nothing urgent," Potter said, and Draco nodded his understanding and thanks. "And Taylor is going to need your help on that underage dueling case she has. It's her first solo case and I know before your accident we assigned you as her senior support, but if it's too much I might be able to bribe Macgregor into taking it."

Work? He wanted to talk about work? That's it?

Draco's brow furrowed in confusion. "No, its fine, I'm happy to help her," Draco assured his boss. "I've already been over most of it and she's pretty capable, it shouldn't be too much additional work."

"Right, that's okay then," Potter nodded, then he looked at Draco uncomfortably and Draco knew it was about to come up – their kiss and his escape. "Look, about last night, I wanted to apologize."

"You wanted to apologize?" Draco replied in disbelief. What did Potter need to apologize for!?

"Yes, I let my feelings run away with me and I pushed you too quickly," he said, looking down at his feet.

At hearing these words, Draco began to feel foolish. A kiss at the end of a first date too quick? He would have laughed at the thought if it hadn't been true. It had been too quick for him, but it didn't make sense – Draco had fucked first dates before without a care in the world…. "Um, you don't have to apologize," Draco said, after realizing Potter was waiting for him to speak. "It's not exactly unreasonable to expect a kiss, I mean it was pretty much a date and it's not like we're teenagers."

"That wasn't an ordinary date, Draco," Potter replied softly, as if to comfort him. "We have a history, quite a long and often ugly one. I don't think normal dating rules or expectations apply to us."

Draco dropped his eyes to the quill he was fiddling with in his hands; this was a rather uncomfortable conversation. "I suppose," he whispered.

"If I promise not to try to kiss you again, would you have dinner with me sometime?" Potter asked him bravely, rendering Draco speechless.

"Dinner?" He had enjoyed himself last night and he knew Potter had as well, but he'd been so worried about Potter's reaction to his departure last night that he hadn't even thought about him wanting to go on another date.

"Yes, I thought maybe on Saturday." Potter looked hopeful and Draco's heart skipped a beat.

"Okay, sure," he said, his mouth running away with him before he'd had a chance to properly think about it.

"Great!" Potter smiled and the sight warmed him so much he had to smile back. "I'll leave you to it then, you should have some lunch."

"Yeah," Draco agreed. "I probably should."

Oh Merlin, he thought. Did I just agree to a dinner date with Potter?

"You have a stain on your shirt," his mirror informed him and Draco balked.

"I do not!" he gasped. "Where?"

"Right there on the left, you slob!"

"Oh fuck," he sighed. The mirror was right, there was a mark on his shirt, and so for the hundredth time that night Draco changed his clothes. His new shirt suddenly didn't match the trousers he'd chosen, and if he changed his trousers he would need to change his shoes. For a date he was completely unsure about with a person he had hated for so long, he was rather anxious about making a good impression.

He had barely finished lacing up his new boots when he heard his Floo flare up from the other room; Potter had arrived. It had been a rather awkward week for him and Potter, both nervous about their agreed date and acutely aware of the consequences if it didn't go well. They were colleagues – no, worse, they were boss and employee – but Draco was even more concerned about the date being successful, Potter would want another one and then another. He would want to move in, get married, have kids, and Draco just wasn't ready for that kind of commitment; it was only their first date after all!

"Draco!" he heard Potter call from his lounge and he shook the irrational thoughts from his head and went to greet him. "Hey, you look great!" Potter beamed as he walked into the room, and the compliment made Draco feel unusually uncomfortable. Normally he was at his best when under the flattering attentions of a gorgeous man.

"Um, thanks," he replied, trying to control his quickening heartbeat. "So do you." Although that was a lie – Potter didn't look great, he looked fucking incredible! It was all Draco could do to keep his jaw from dropping to the floor. Potter was wearing a pair of black dress pants that seemed to glide along the curve of his arse and fall effortlessly down his legs, and a green long sleeve button up shirt that made his eyes shine. For the first time that he could remember, Draco was nervous about a date – Potter was beautiful and he was, well …. "Do you want a drink?" he asked, hoping to God he would say yes; Draco needed something to help him relax, and he needed it now.

"We'd better not," Potter replied, still smiling at him in a way that wasn't at all helping Draco relax, "our reservation is in ten minutes."

"Right, yes," Draco nodded. He made his way to the closet to retrieve his coat in a few short strides, cursing Potter as he went. "Lead the way."

"Can we Apparate from here?" he asked, and Draco nodded.

"I can," he said. "You'll have to give me the coordinates and you can Side-Apparate with me."

Potter smiled and seemed to make the most of their required touching by looping his arm through Draco's and stepping close next to him. Draco swallowed heavily and glanced at Potter only for a second before popping them both out to the coordinates he'd been given.

They arrived, as was usual, in a rather dirty London alleyway, but Potter soon led Draco out and down the block to a rather flashy looking Muggle hotel. Draco thought to make some remark about Potter getting straight to business, booking a hotel room for them before he'd even bought him dinner, but the thought of having Potter naked in bed with him brought beads of sweat glistening to his forehead. "The restaurant is just up here," Potter explained; touching the small of his back, directing him towards a polished staircase.

Draco took a sharp breath at the movement and Potter pulled his hand away immediately. "You know what, I think I might just duck off to the men's room," he announced to his date, his voice quivering. "I'll be right back."

Potter looked a little worried. "Okay, well, I'll wait here for you."

He found the bathroom straight away; the neon lights making him look paler than usual as he stared at himself in the mirror. "What is wrong with you?" he hissed at himself. "He's fucking hot and he wants you! Why are you hiding in the bathroom?" The answer to that question resounded clearly in his head. He's Harry Potter. Harry Potter. "Merlin," he sighed. "What am I doing? I should have said no, there's no way I actually thought I would die if I didn't – is there?"

He wasn't sure if his dream was just a dream, or if he would actually die if he refused Harry, but there was one thing he was coming to realize – something he'd been lying to himself about for longer than he knew. Harry was it – the One – as they say. He knew that he could love Harry, that if he let himself he would love him, and that he could spend the rest of his life happily waking up next to him. But did he really want to? This was a big decision and he felt like he'd been rushed into it; he felt like he hadn't had any time to think. He needed time to think.

On the way back to meet him, Draco found the bar – and relief. Just one quick drink to calm my nerves, he thought, and he made his way over to the barman. "I'll have a shot of … whatever's good, please," he ordered, not being familiar with Muggle beverages, and the barman produced a honey coloured liquid.

"You alright?" he asked.

"Fine," Draco replied, swallowing his drink in one go and almost choking on it as he did – it tasted awful. "I'm supposed to be on a date."

The barman laughed. "Ah, come for a bit of Dutch Courage, did you? Find out the girl was ugly or something?"

Draco imagined Potter waiting for him in the hotel lobby. "He is the most beautiful man I've ever seen," he replied with a small smile.

"Are you not gay then?"

"Of course I'm gay," Draco said a little snappishly. "Why else would I be on a date with a man?"

"Is he not gay then?"

Draco sighed in frustration; it wasn't any of this man's business anyway – why were Muggles so damn nosy? "We are both gay."

"Then I don't understand," the barman frowned. "If you are on a date with the most beautiful man you've ever seen and you're both gay, what are you doing sitting here?"

What indeed? Draco felt the anguish of his confusion, his conflicting emotions, his heart, head, reason, logic – everything in him screaming at him to be with Potter, to give in and be happy for once. But something held him back and he didn't know how to get around it.

"Draco?" he heard Potter's voice behind him sounding hurt. "What are you doing?"

Draco sighed, the barman slinked away, and he was forced to turn around and make his way over to his date. Potter had never been very good at hiding how he felt, and it was written all over his face that Draco had made a big mistake. "I got lost on the way back," he lied, and Potter's frown dug deeper into his brow.

"Do you have some kind of drinking problem that I'm not aware of?" he asked, his voice dangerously low.

"What!? No, of course not!" Draco felt quite affronted at the suggestion.

"Then what the hell are you doing!?" Potter was furious, and Draco began to inwardly panic. He should be with Potter, he knew, it was the only thing that made sense, even though at the same time, it made no sense at all. But right now it felt very much like he was losing his chance.

"I – I-" he stuttered.

"Do you want to be here with me at all?" Harry's voice cracked a little and the sound stung straight through to Draco's chest.

"Yes, I do," he replied sincerely. "I do want to be here. I'm sorry, Harry. I'm just nervous that's all, I don't want to mess up."

Harry's face softened immediately at his words, and hope flared within Draco. "So you thought you'd abandon me instead?" Harry asked, holding no malice in the question. Draco just shrugged shamefully. "You've never called me Harry before," the dark haired man whispered, and again Draco felt the urge to run, but he pushed it down.

"Haven't I?" Draco's throat felt dry and the words scratched painfully as they came out.

He smiled demurely and shook his head. "Can we go up to the restaurant now?" he asked, and Draco nodded.

The blond marched determinedly up to the very stylish looking restaurant in an attempt to push his way through whatever was holding him back from letting go, but as he watched Harry order his entrée, he felt doubt creep into his mind and it was both comforting and frightening to feel it there.

"How is your duck?" Harry asked conversationally, and Draco tried to smile at him.

"Good." The conversation died. They hadn't managed to get talking beyond a sentence or two since they'd sat down and Draco wasn't sure what to do about it.

They had talked freely and easily on their last date and it had felt brilliant, but this time was different. Whether it was the restaurant, or that there had been a week's anxious lead up to this dinner, or that Draco had ruined the whole night by convincing himself that a bit of alcohol would lower his inhibitions and help him open up to Harry – he wasn't sure.

"Draco," Harry said, calling his attention. "Is everything alright?"

"Of course," he answered automatically and even as he did he knew that he hadn't been even the smallest bit convincing. He was extremely nervous, sure he was doing everything wrong, and worried that it seemed to matter so much to him to get this date right.

Harry just stared at him looking puzzled. "I can't seem to figure you out," he said eventually. "I mean, one second I'm sure you want to be with me too – like I want to be with you – and then the next second I think I must have it completely wrong because you look like you'd rather be anywhere than here with me." Harry paused, waiting for Draco to respond, but the blond was at a complete loss.

He knew exactly what Harry was talking about because he'd been battling those two sides of himself long before he nearly choked to death – or did choke to death; he still hadn't figured that one out yet. For a long time now it had been the Draco who liked Harry verses the Draco who was still determined to hate him; it seemed like since he had his brush with death, the part of him that liked the insufferable Gryffindor was beginning to win out.

"I don't want you to feel like you have to come out with me just because I'm your boss," Harry continued, reminding Draco they were still having a conversation. "In fact I really hope that's not the case."

"It's not, I promise you," he assured the dark haired man sincerely. He really did want to be there, more than he liked, but he was still unsure about what it all meant. "Like I've ever seen you as an authority figure," he joked, trying to break the tension.

Harry chuckled genuinely, smiling to himself about some memory or another, but he wouldn't let Draco brush him off. "Tell me, Draco, why did you agree to have dinner with me?"

"Because I wanted to." It was as simple as that – what bothered Draco was why he wanted to and how strong that feeling was. It wasn't logical, and he worried that it was simply because he'd somehow convinced himself that if he didn't he would die.

"Then I don't understand," Harry frowned cutely and a subtle smile pulled at Draco's lips. "Why do you feel like you have to be drunk to be here with me?"

The good feelings disappeared immediately. Harry had gotten completely the wrong idea, but he couldn't blame him; it didn't look very good at all. "It's not like that – oh, Harry, I'm so sorry," he groaned, his shoulders sinking down. "I am not drunk, it was just one shot. I'm nervous – you make me nervous – and I want this date to go well so much it's frightening. I thought it might help. I haven't done it in a while, but its something I used to do in Auror training; I would have a small drink before all my practical exams. I'd be less nervous going in and I'd be more likely to rely on my instincts rather than second guessing myself and making a mistake."

Harry looked surprised and a little amused. "You used to drink before your Auror exams?" he laughed. "I thought you received near perfect scores in all your exams?"

"Excuse me, I got straight O's," Draco smirked. "And deservedly so, I worked hard for those grades. Besides, it wasn't all my exams, just a couple of the practical ones I was a bit nervous about. We can't all be as good as you. You have always been able to comfortably rely on your instincts – from the very first day I met you…."

Draco thought about that day; Harry hadn't even known him, but he seemed quite confident that he didn't want to be friends with him when he declined his handshake – and when he thought back, Draco couldn't really blame him; he had been a bit of a shit.

Harry put his fork down and took a sip of water before catching Draco's eyes with his. "The first time I met you… well, you were the first person to talk to me like I was normal and not some freak cousin of the school bully." Draco didn't remember talking to him for very long, he simply offered his friendship but Harry hadn't been interested. "In Madam Malkin's, we got fitted for our uniforms at the same time, you were talking about Hogwarts houses and Quidditch – I didn't understand a word of it!"

The scene unfolded for Draco like a play in his mind and he remembered it perfectly; the two of them standing on those fitting blocks with Madam Malkin fussing about them like an old hen.

"I remember now," Draco said, and the clarity he felt at this memory seemed to dissipate much of the confusion he felt – for the time being at least. "I remember that day. I was terrified and I was trying to pretend I wasn't so Father wouldn't get cross with me. I was supposed to make him proud; don't be a wimp, get into Slytherin, get good grades, make friends with the right people." Draco trailed off, marveling at how it felt to be an adult looking back on how it felt to be eleven years old – his father had never been very fair to him. "I wasn't good enough for you then, Harry, and you could tell right away," he added almost sadly.

"Don't say that," he whispered back firmly. Harry reached across the table and claimed Draco's hand; he took a moment to enjoy the contact and then he looked up at Draco meaningfully. Draco saw Harry's heart in his eyes. "I like you," he said, and Draco trembled, "very much."

Thos piercing green eyes warmed his core and the heat spread through him like wildfire, pooling in his groin and making him shift in his seat. Draco's cock lengthened in his trousers and he had never been so grateful for the crisp white tablecloth that concealed his growing problem.

Harry liked him – very much. And he liked Harry.

There was passion swimming in those deep green eyes and they were begging him to let go, to do as he wanted because Harry wanted it too – very much.

"How was your meal, Gentlemen?" the waiter asked and Draco grunted in reply, too lost in Harry to concentrate long enough on a proper answer. "Can I get you the dessert menu?"

Harry didn't speak; he just moved his head very slightly from one side to the other. It was only a small gesture but it was enough for Draco.

"No, thank you," Draco barely choked out. "Just the bill please."

With a snarl, Draco descended on his prey, devouring Harry's mouth hungrily the moment they stepped into the privacy of the filthy alley. Bottles clattered together and noisily tipped on to the concrete as Harry lost his balance, moaning happily and twisting his fists into Draco's shirt to keep from falling over.

The tanned, muscled arms then wound around Draco's waist and he could feel Harry's pleasure pressing hard into his hip; it made him quiver. "Oh, fuck," he whispered and Harry pressed against him harder still.

He barely even noticed Harry flicking his wand before a familiar tug behind his navel pulled Draco twirling into Harry's bedroom. The room was surprisingly bare, like the man didn't spend much time in here at all – just to sleep – which Draco supposed sounded about right. The transportation seemed to sober him a little and he began to feel guilty. Here he was completely ready to fuck his boss until neither of them could move and then – and then what?

Harry would want him to stay. He was looking at Draco as though he never wanted him to leave.

That wasn't supposed to happen.

Draco felt strangely vulnerable and perhaps even embarrassed as those beautiful green eyes stripped him bare with need. The small smile curling on those tasty pink lips only made things worse as they conveyed a tenderness and loving amusement Draco had never seen directed at him before – and didn't think he deserved.

He should never have let his emotions run away with him. Now he was in Harry's bedroom and the situation felt completely out of control.

Harry moved closer to him, and he froze. Not good.

Harry must have sensed his apprehension because the man then took his hands, almost reassuringly, and rubbed circles into his skin with coarse movements that Draco liked – very much. He closed his eyes, and Harry seized the opportunity. He nuzzled Draco's face with his own, rubbing the side of his nose against Draco's nose, cheeks, jaw line, and then followed the path back with a trail of light kisses.

Draco's heart felt like it was beating out of his chest. Merlin, this felt so good. He never wanted it to stop, and yet he needed it to. He couldn't take the closeness, the vulnerability he felt. He had never let anyone get so close to him, he hadn't even realized Harry had gotten this far through his barriers; he thought they were just having dinner. When did this happen? And when did he start calling the man 'Harry'? That was probably his first mistake.

Harry's breath washed over his mouth as he pulled back from a kiss Draco realized he hadn't responded to. In fact, Draco hadn't responded to anything since they'd arrived in Harry's room.

"Draco?" Harry's voice shivered softly over him; he was worried. "Are you okay?"

Draco said aloud what he'd been screaming silently in his head for a while now. "I have to get out of here." He pulled away from Harry and turned, searching for an exit.

"Draco, I'm sorry," Harry pleaded. "Please don't go, we don't have to do anything, I promise. Just stay with me, I'll make us a cup of tea or something."

Draco had found the door and was making his way down the stairs. Harry followed after him. "I fucked up again, I know," the man continued. "I pushed you too fast. I'm sorry! I'll back off, I swear. We'll go at your pace."

Even through his overwhelming panic, Draco was still surprised at Harry's persistent apologizing for situations that he – Draco-stupid-arse-Malfoy – had fucked up. A normal, psychologically balanced person would be in that room undressing the God-like body that was hidden under Harry's clothes and making love to the only man he'd ever truly wanted.

But as he began to jog away down the street, after hearing Harry shouting his name through the door he'd slammed between them, he realized with a heavy heart that he wasn't normal – or psychologically balanced.

So close yet so far! Only one more part to go, do you think its enough time for Draco to wise up and stop being such a chicken?

I sure hope so! Lol!