Yes, Chef

They never talked about it. 

Draco did try to bring it up, but Harry always found an excuse on why not to have the conversation. 

His anxiety began bubbling inside of him in anticipation for France because he knew Blaise was going to get them to room together again and Draco couldn't get that kiss out of his head. 

If you told Draco Malfoy that at twenty eight years old he would be kissing the boy he had pined after since fourth year, he would've laughed so hard he would've cried. 

Because that's where it started, didn't it? 

Draco at first was so envious of Potter that he tormented and bullied his friends because Harry Potter didn't want to be Draco's friend. 

Draco was cruel and mean and it was the Yule Ball in fourth year that he realized he might've felt something other than hatred for the green eyed boy. He watched Harry Potter fearlessly beat a dragon, gather not only his sorely missed person, but Fleur’s as well from the Merpeople that were in the Black Lake, and bring Cedric Diggory’s body back from the maze. He watched as his friends and Dumbledore- manipulative bastard- rally around Potter and Draco returned home that summer to the Dark Lord in his house. 

In fifth year he watched as Potter began to get closer to Ginny Weasley and was tormented by Dolores Umbridge. He led the Inquisitors Squad and thought that the silly crush from fourth year was just that, a silly crush. 

Then the Battle at the Ministry happened. 

Sirius Black died. 

His father got arrested and tossed into Azkaban. 

Draco returned home to a furious Dark Lord…. who he may or may not had called Snake Face just to anger him because he started trying to place blame on him for his fathers failure. 

Yes, that didn't go quite as planned because his mother sobbed, knowing what was to come and Severus held her back as Draco was crucio ’d far worse than what his father could ever muster. 

Then he was forced to take that fucking mark. He was given the impossible task of letting Death Eaters into Hogwarts and killing the Headmaster. 

He never liked the Headmaster, but still. 

Then he was back to Hogwarts, stomping on Potter’s nose and trying to fix the vanishing cabinet like it was another bloody Tuesday. 

But even when he made himself scarce… Potter was there. 

When he was alone in the bathroom, sobbing because the task was too great, Harry Potter then came in and almost killed him. 

He was relieved. He didn't want this task.

But then he awoke with Severus saying that he would have some scars on his chest and back where the spell, Sectumsempra , had sliced him open, but he just sobbed into his Godfather's robes like he was a child. 

He still loved him.

Because when he felt the unfamiliar, bitter jealousy seeing Potter holding Ginny Weasley’s hand, that's when he knew. 

He carried out his task… partially… and was tortured for failing. He was forced to go on raids with the other Death Eaters, never being able to stomach anything after.

When he returned to a Death Eater plagued school, he told the others when he was forced to crucio them to pretend. 

He healed wounds of the younger years who couldn't defend themselves. 

He had a knife, there was blood, and he woke up in the hospital wing with the mark defaced. 

He didn't return home for the winter holidays, heart aching for his mother who he knew wouldn't give up her husband even for her son. 

Then it was Easter Break and he lied .

He lied to save Harry Potter and practically surrendered his wand. 

They escaped and he didn't. 

It was worse that time. 

Worse.

Worse.

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He felt like he was drowning. 

Then Harry Potter saved him from Fiendfyre and walked to his death before miraculously surviving and coming back from the dead. 

And now both of their Godfather's were dead.

It was almost over because he surely was going to Azkaban. He took the mark, didn't matter them if it was forced or not.  

But then...Harry Potter then spoke at his trial and got him acquitted of all charges because he took the mark under duress and he saved his life. 

Things didn't change in the public perception and after he refused to marry Astoria Greengrass, he fucked off to France and was promptly disowned by his father. 

He was always good with wine, something every pureblood was taught in and decided to put his knowledge to use. He fought tooth and nail to be enrolled in the Wizarding sommelier program alongside the muggle portion and was accepted. 

He partied with Blaise and Pansy, going clubbing and fucking blokes in loos and living a life he never got to live. 

He worked in the finest restaurants in Paris once he cleared the first level of the program and met people from all walks of life. He worked so hard to get cleared as a master and that's when Blaise owled him in June, of 2008, complaining that he just didn't know what wines to pair with his chefs menu. 

Draco helped him pick the wine and in the next letter Blaise sent a menu again, requesting help. 

Draco had been putting off returning to England for one reason or another, but then Blaise offered him a job at Canis, Lupus, Et Cervum , which Draco had already heard about from some of the patrons who had dined in the restaurant he had previously worked in. He never put two and two together because he hadn't picked up any sort of paper in ten years in fear of what he might find in them about himself. 

So Draco moved most of his belongings into Blaise and Pansy’s flat as he secured his own and quit the job he had in France (he hated it anyways). He found a small flat in muggle London and spelled the walls white so they would match the aesthetic of the furniture he had brought from Paris. 

Then he was shown a menu and was told to make the wine pairings with Asian influence and flavors in mind. He was told to show up on Tuesday, August 5th 2008 and he did. 

He was faced with a red faced Ronald Weasley shouting at him about how dare he step foot into his best mates restaurant which made Draco’s head spin. 

Was this a set up? 

Why did Blaise and Pansy suggest this?

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But then… Potter came through the door leading into what he assumed was the kitchen and it was like taking a breath of fresh air for the first time in ten years. 

Potter was wearing a half opened chef coat, showing the white shirt underneath and chef pants that fit him perfectly. His hair was longer and half was tied back in a bun, eyes green as ever and taking in the scene before him. Draco could tell he grew a quite few inches and properly filled out, all broad shoulders and lean muscles, not too bulky but properly built. His chest and arms were clearly muscled to where they most likely flexed and rippled from the years of working in a kitchen, lifting heavy produce totes and boxes and creating different kinds of food. 

They spoke for the first time in ten years and his best friend stayed behind him like a shield, Pansy following him into the kitchen after Potter defended him, whispering in his ear while Blaise followed. The silence was tense as he set about decanting certain bottles and making sure the white for the amuse-bouche was spelled to be chilled. He set out glasses and fiddled with his sleeves and couldn't believe he was invited to stay. 

To stay. 

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Draco was so nervous the entire time, he couldn't do much other than either sit in silence or explain where, why, and how the wine impacted each dish. He received some polite praise and made it known he actually goes by Draco Black, and then was invited to stay on the job. 

His first day wasn't too bad except he was upset he had to train. 

Blaise's reasoning made sense he supposed… 

But then he was invited out to drinks after work and they talked and laughed.  

He was invited to join the Gryffindors after that article came out. 

Then… he fell apart because why did he think that England would take it in stride that he showed his face? He had been so scared to tell Harry about the man and Harry stormed out there with a fierce protectiveness for his staff that Draco couldn't help but admire it. But then the reason came out. 

Death Eater. 

Death.

Eater.

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Draco couldn't breathe. He felt his heart thudding in his chest and he felt like he was seventeen again with his anxiety peaking because did he ever properly deal with the abuse and torture and psychological trauma he went through?

No. 

It echoed and rang in his head as he hyperventilated and sobbed on Blaise’s shoulder, wiping his face and trying to calm down. 

Then Harry came into the office and told him that everyone wanted him there. 

They wanted him. 

Draco was in Grimmauld Place feeling like he had been accepted. The way Harry stared and was flustered from across the table as Blaise teased Harry about his type, heart fluttering at the mention of his inclination towards blonds. 

His love for Harry Potter never left. 

Harry Potter asked him how he liked his new haircut and it suited him so well he just wanted to run his fingers through those thick black curls that had curled around his ears and the nape of his neck yet were still quite a bit that was long on top to give it more volume. 

Then Draco couldn't even disagree because Harry did look like a sex god when he showed up to the portkey office. Fit trousers and tattoos on display and all he wanted was to unbutton his shirt and look at the rest that he was sure Harry had with his right arm adorned with a completed sleeve and the left still getting filled in. 

He was in love with Harry Potter and he would never want him back. 

But then… he got so angry at the restaurant and Draco got angry because why did it matter who he slept with?

But then… Harry Potter kissed Draco Black with so much passion that Draco didn't think he could possibly breathe without having another kiss from the man. His hands on his body and the smell of cigarette smoke mingling with wine and the smell of firewood and oak. It melted his brain and he couldn't believe that Harry Potter could want him back. 

But then they didn't talk about it. 

He confided in Pansy his frustrations because he kept trying and now they were about to leave for France and she just muttered something about thick headed Gryffindors before digging through his closet. 

“Don't you worry, darling, I'll make it so he regrets not even speaking to you about this and he'll want to do more than just kiss you,” she said, finding a cashmere lavender jumper with small white flowers embroidered on the fabric and black jeans he wasn't even sure he would be able to fit. She pulled out black combat boots and set the outfit out on his bed before nodding to herself. 

“Yes that'll do,” Pansy declared, shoving him into the loo. Draco showered before dressing, coming out with wet hair like what was requested of him and sitting down at the vanity that was next to his bed. Pansy put a little product in his hair, spelling it dry. She bypassed the straightener, before braiding two strands of hair together only to twist them together behind his head and tie it securely with one of those little clear plastic muggle hair ties. Pansy then set about putting some grey eyeliner on his eyes, almost barely noticeable, and a little bit of a white shimmery eyeshadow that just made it look like he shimmered. She applied the same lip gloss she had in Italy before choosing a simple silver chain with a small dragon charm pulling it about three inches past his collarbone. The jumper slid off his shoulder and he fiddled with the sleeves before Pansy announced that she was done. Draco went and looked in his mirror, thinking that he did look rather cute, but in a soft way that suited him. 

“Why did you choose a jumper, Pans? I'm not saying I don't look great, but usually I feel them for more casual affairs,” Draco said, turning around to look at her. 

“Because, Draco, I noticed when you wear jumpers, he barely is able to restrain and keep his hands to himself,” she smirked. 

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When they arrived at the Portkey office, Potter was already there with Blaise and dressed in a wine colored button down with silvery accents and pressed black slacks, the shirt, once again, tucked into his trousers and held up by a silver buckle. The first two buttons were undone and he just knew this was Blaise's doing. 

“Good morning, loves! Portkey leaves in ninety seconds. Cutting it rather close are we? It'll drop us in the vicinity of the first vineyard and we'll go from there,” Blaise said, holding out a teacup. Harry was beside him just gawking at Draco and he felt his cheeks heat just a bit. Draco just mumbled a good morning and placed a hand on the tea cup as it started to glow, counting off the seconds before it was to go off. With a pull in his navel, he stumbled a bit once his feet hit the ground. A strong hand braced him, and he looked to see Harry keeping him steady. 

“Thank you, Harry,” Draco said briskly, quickly shaking his grasp. 

“Er- you're welcome?” Harry replied, not sure now what to do with his hands. 

“Come now, I'd like to take a look at the grapes before sitting down to sample the wine,” Draco said, tilting his chin up as he strolled forward and through the gates of the vineyard. The lovely scent of fruit hit his nose as he began inspecting the grapes and their quality, finding them to be very promising.

 Draco crouched down to scoop up a bit of soil, casting a spell that told him the fertility and acidity of the dirt they had on the land and was also quite satisfied with the results, showing the soil to be about 7.0 pH which was perfect for a more balanced flavor of the wine. He let the soil fall from his hands and spelled them clean before standing up.

“I think that this vineyard will have all that I need,” Draco said to the others who were talking quietly behind him, glancing at the farmlands that sprawled every which way for miles around them. Harry had a deep blush on his face.

“Perfect, let's go drink some wine then!” Pansy said, adjusting her black skirt and linking arms with Draco. Blaise and Harry stayed behind them while Pansy leaned in while they approached the entrance of the tasting room. 

“I think that you're going to be absolutely ravished tonight. He can't keep his eyes off your arse, darling,” Pansy whispered, giving a nod to the server. 

“If I can get him to say something to me that doesn't scream blubbering fool,” Draco drawled back in a whisper, following the server to their table. “However, if my tests show anything to go by for what quality of wine we're about to taste, we'll be able to kip over to Wizarding Paris for a bit before dinner and get some shopping done,” he smiled. Pansy let out a squeal. 

“You know a way to a woman's heart, Draco Black. Such a shame you're gay,” she said dramatically as they settled at the table. 

“You're gay?” Harry echoed. Draco scoffed. 

“I did kiss you back, didn't I?” He asked, raising an eyebrow right before the server explained that all they had to do was choose a wine from the list and tap their want to the list then the glass and the wine glass would fill itself. Harry’s face was bright red and only turned redder at Draco’s next words. 

“Merci, chérie. C’est tout pour I’instant,” Draco said, glancing up from the wine list and seeing Harry’s blush. 

“You speak French?” He asked, eyes wide.

“One would assume since I did live in France for ten years. Close your mouth, darling, you'll catch flies,” Draco said coolly, wondering how he could be in love with such an idiot. Harry snapped his mouth shut and watched as Draco tapped the menu and then each of their glasses. 

“It says here that this is a Pinot Grigio that has floral notes, apple, and honeysuckle. We'll go from white to rosé to red,” Draco said, swirling the wine in his glass. He cast a charm that showed him it was at a perfect 8* celsius. Draco took a small sip, letting the flavors hit his tongue and he hummed in approval, jumper sliding off his shoulder a bit. 

“I don't typically like whites, but this is fantastic,” Blaise said, looking at Draco for approval. He merely smiled sweetly.

“Of course it does, I chose it.” 

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After ordering about fifty bottles of wine (six were for his own personal collection and the rest of the forty four were split between a Bordeaux Blanc and a Cabernet Sauvignon), the four apparated into Wizarding Paris. There were people everywhere in the shops, trying to enjoy some of the nice weather before the weather turns to fall. Pansy and Draco ended up dragging Blaise and Potter to the closest clothing shop. They spent almost two hours outfitting the two boys in different clothes, and modeling some for themselves for their counterparts, Draco rather pleased with a soft jumper he found in a lovely light blue with a higher thread count than the one he was currently wearing. 

All together they spent about six hours in Wizarding Paris, Harry stopping them every few minutes to marvel at something in the windows and nearly begging to go into every store they walked past that had something that caught Harry’s eye. 

And Draco entertained every single request because he knew Harry had never seen Paris before and he, Blaise, and Pansy grew up visiting almost every summer since they were small children. 

In the end they were laden with bags full of clothes, candies, and other odds and ends. Pansy gathered them all and shrunk them, pocketing everything in her purse. 

“Shall we go have dinner? I don't think you told us where we were going, Harry,” Blaise said, checking the time. 

“It's muggle this time. It's on the Michelin guide, but hasn't gotten a star yet. It's still rather pricey and it's one set menu. You get what they course, which is what I do for my restaurant. No other options or substitutions and it's seven courses. Wine pairing is included, but it's supposed to be really good. It's called Le Château- actually hold on,” Harry reached into his pocket and found the paper he scribbled on almost six or seven weeks ago with each country and restaurant they would be visiting and duplicated them before handing them to the three Slytherins. “There, that's the full list,” he smiled.

“It's so cute you wrote out the translations,” Pansy cooed before casting a subtle point me! in the direction of the restaurant. They chatted as they walked, bantering and bickering and Draco felt a warmed calloused hand slide into his. He looked over to see Harry smiling shyly at him and Draco blushed red, but allowed for Harry to hold his hand. 

“You better plan on explaining why you avoided me for almost two weeks,” Draco said, lowering his voice so only Harry could hear him. 

“I know, I'm sorry. When we get to the hotel, yeah?” Harry said, eyes hopeful. Draco nodded and Harry squeezed his hand gently, making his heart burst at the seams in pure giddy. 

As they approached the restaurant, Pansy quietly canceled the charm and subtly pointed a translation charm at Harry and also on his glasses so that he would be able to understand and read the menu in the restaurant. They walked in, Draco going to pull his hand away, but Harry only tightened his grip, looking straight ahead. 

Draco had butterflies and warmth filling his entire body. 

“Good evening darling, we have a reservation for four under Potter,” Blaise said to the host, flashing a smile that she blushed under. Pansy merely smirked and linked arms with him as the maître d’ led them to their table. She set down only a small rectangular plaque and explained it would be the selections for that evening before excusing herself. Almost immediately a waitress was there, filling their waters and introducing herself as Amelia and explaining how their experience would go. They will eat and she will clear the plates, after twelve minutes another course will come and the process repeats. She will bring the paired wine right before the course to allow them to sip and they did have a full bar and mixologists for any additional drinks. 

Harry had finally let go of his hand from under the table, leaving Draco strangely cold, as he took in his surroundings. Nice, high vaulted ceilings with stucco artwork adorned them. There were golden chandeliers and the walls were a soft cream color that were decorated with various paintings. All the furniture was dark mahogany and each table was set with a white table cloth, small candle, and place settings with different types of silverware and glasses for each course. 

Draco took a peak at the menu to see what he was to be expecting, excitement filling his stomach at the thought of proper French cuisine. 

Amuse-bouche

*Truffle Scented Brioche with a Foie Gras Mousseline served with a Brut Champagne

Appetizer 

*Diver Scallops with Citrus Sabayon and Ossetra Caviar served with a Crisp Chablis

Soup

*Lobster Bisque with Saffron and a Chive Oil Garnish served with a White Burgundy 

Fish

*Pan Seared Halibut with a Saffron and Fennel Sauce served with Sancerre 

Palate Cleanser

*Raspberry Sorbet served with Champagne

Main

*Dry Aged Beef Tenderloin Bordelaise with truffle shavings served with Bordeaux 

Cheese course

*Chef Curated Selection of French Cheeses served with Rhône Valley Syrah

Dessert

*Chocolate Degustation served with Port

Draco was already salivating. Already the menu looked a lot better and more descriptive than what they had in Italy and the wine pairings seemed to flow much better. 

“Oh, this looks so much better,” Draco said.

“Did you not enjoy Italy?” Blaise asked with a raised eyebrow. 

“The food was good, but compared to here there's no reason why that restaurant should have a star and this one doesn't. Service is a lot better too,” Draco said as their waitress started setting the champagne on the table for them and gave a small bow. She returned quickly with their starter and Draco had the first tentative bite, wiggling in his seat a bit while he took a sip of the champagne. 

“I do have to agree, the presentation, food, and service are a lot more palatable,” Pansy said with a sniff. Harry chucked and made a small noise as he finally tried the amuse-bouche. 

“I honestly have to agree,” he echoed, taking care not to shove the whole thing in his mouth and thinking no one noticed. 

But Draco did and he had a small smile playing on his lips. He leaned in, jumper slipping off his pale shoulder and Harry eyed it immediately. 

“Trying not to inhale the food, Potter?” Draco asked teasingly. Harry blushed and waved him off.

“I just love food. I used to eat it quickly in school because my aunt and uncle fed me what they needed to sometimes . As I've started falling back in love with cooking I try to savor the flavors more,” Harry said with a sheepish grin. Draco felt his expression soften and he squeezed the other man's thigh under the table. Harry gave a genuine smile at that and Blaise coughed loudly from the other side of the table.

“Care to share with the class?” He asked, eyes glinting in the low light. 

“Not particularly. I've heard you're rather the gossip, Blaise Zabini,” Draco smirked as his friend looked outraged. 

“Gossip! Gossip he says. Why I'm rather offended, darling because if I remember correctly in fourth year you wouldn't-” 

Draco spelled Blaise silent non verbally from under the table and Blaise looked absolutely offended at this development. 

“Hm, yes, that's much better. Can't have you spilling all my secrets, now,” Draco said with a huff. Pansy and Harry were still laughing when the waitress came to clear their plates for the next course. 

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Draco sat back and stretched like a cat as they finished their espresso martinis, quite satiated and a little tipsy from all the wine. 

Dinner had been fantastic and the wine was an absolute delight. 

“Oi, Pans, you might have to carry me out of here,” Draco said, readjusting his jumper that had ridden up when he stretched. 

“I'll do no such thing. Ask Harry, I'm sure he'd be more than happy to get your legs around him,” she said breezily.

Next to him, Harry choked on his drink before placing a little plastic rectangle on the bill, face blazing red.

“Pans, I hardly think that's appropriate-” Harry started.

“So you wouldn't like his legs  wrapped around you?”

“I didn't say that, did I?”

“You said it was inappropriate-”

“Because it is-”

“Harry Potter doesn't want Draco Black’s legs around-”

“Bloody hell Pansy, of course I do-”

“Wait- you do?” Draco asked, sitting up straighter and looking at Harry who blushed even more, red dusting his tanned cheeks. 

“I'll tell you all the things I want to do later,” Harry said as he cleared his throat. The table fell into a companionable silence as the waitress took the little plastic thing and came back with a paid slip that Harry signed.

“What is that thing?” Draco asked, watching as Harry pocketed it. 

“It's my bank card. It's connected to my Gringotts account so I can make easier withdrawals and payments, but it was set up through a muggle Wizarding branch,” Harry explained. Draco shot Blaise and Pansy a questioning look and both just shrugged. They all stood and walked to their hotel, Harry smoking a fag that glowed in the night. 

Draco’s legs were tired about halfway through the walk back and he whined about it before Harry crouched in front of him. 

“Come on then, hop on,” he said. 

“Hop on ? On your back? Are you mental?” Draco asked incredulously.

“It's either that or I throw you over my shoulder,” Harry replied dryly. Draco grumbled the entire time, having thought the whining would get them to stop for a second, not a piggyback ride on Harry Potter’s back. Draco hopped on, Harry standing and jumping a bit to shift him forward as warm hands grasped right under his upper thighs. Draco wrapped his arms around his neck and blushed deeply, hiding his face in Harry’s neck. 

The rest of the walk consisted of Harry, Blaise, and Pansy chatting while Draco absorbed the warmth from Harry’s skin. The smell of cigarettes, firewood, and oak filled his nose, making him feel an intense calm that Draco didn't know was possible. 

Harry ended up carrying him all the way to their room and once the door was open he backed up so Draco was aligned with the bed and dropped him onto the mattress. Draco let out a soft ‘oof’ as he braced himself with his forearms, legs spread slightly. When Harry turned around he stopped, sucking in a breath as his eyes roamed over Draco. Draco let out a small noise which was all it took for Harry to come forward, pushing him further up the bed against the pillows, and hovering over top of him looking into Draco's eyes. 

“This okay?” Harry breathed, one hand braced next to Draco’s head, the other moving up his chest, brushing his jugular slightly and Draco leaned into the hand that was on his throat. 

“Yeah?” Harry breathed, sounding dazed and gave Draco’s throat just a small squeeze, not applying a lot of pressure due to not wanting to choke him and Draco just nodded his head dumbly. 

Harry captured his mouth in a hot kiss, tongue prodding at Draco's lips. Draco let out a soft whimper, moaning breathily into Harry’s mouth who took the opening and took the plunge. Draco’s hands shakily reached between them, fumbling with the buttons of Harry’s shirt, Harry's hands leaving him to assist with the task. Harry discarded the shirt somewhere, one hand still braced above Draco and the other now at his waist, pushing up under his jumper. 

Draco felt like his skin was on fire with Potter’s warm hand sliding over her stomach and up his chest, brushing a thumb over his budded nipple before giving it a soft squeeze. Draco let out a whine, hips trying to grind on something , one hand scratching down Harry's back and the other snaking back between them so he could palm himself and relieve some of the pressure. Harry quickly grabbed both his hands and pinned them above his head, breaking the kiss. 

“You're not touching yourself yet, yeah?” Harry said, green eyes nearly black from how wide his pupils were blown out. Draco only let out a strangled noise, moving his hips up slightly. 

“Want me to touch you? You're a needy little thing, aren't you? Are you leaking yet?” Harry asked. 

“Y-yes. Harry please. Please please please,” Draco begged, his hair that is splayed out behind him tickling his face. Harry released his wrists, pulling Draco’s jumper over his head before fiddling with his belt. Draco let out a small whine before Harry got the zip down and Draco lifted his hip so he could shimmy down the jeans and his pants. 

When Draco’s cock broke free, he was hard and aching and hadn't felt this close to coming from just kissing in years . 

“Look at you. Look at you,” Harry whispered, leaning down to nip and bite at his neck. Draco bared it easily for him, feeling Harry's hand travel up his thigh and take his cock in his hand, stroking him so fucking slowly .

“More. I-I need more,”Draco grit out, breath hitching when Harry bit the juncture between Draco's shoulder and neck, Harry's thumb spreading the pre come around the tip before speaking up the strokes. 

Draco felt like he had ascended to heaven, arching up into his touch and his vision blurring. 

“Come on. Come on, love, come for me,” Harry whispered to his ear. “Come for me,” he repeated, capturing his mouth in a kiss. Draco’s vision whited out, arching up as he came, hot streaks hitting his chest. He grappled against Harry's back, surely leaving red scars in his wake. 

When he came back to himself he managed to flip them over, his jumper sliding back down his body as he fumbled with Harry’s trousers. He got them open and Harry left out a hiss when Draco pulled his prick out of his Y fronts. 

Holy fuck .

Draco wasn't a bad length, he was just above average and a little bit on the thinner side, but Harry was thick and long and dripping and Draco couldn't stop himself when shimmied down Potter’s legs a little and he leaned forward, licking the tip gently as he grasped the length at the base. 

“Oh, fuck,” Harry grit, a hand finding it's way to Draco’s hair. He grasped it at the root and tugged a little bit and Draco dropped down, taking the length between those kiss swollen lips. He heard Harry let out a hiss of pleasure, bucking up a bit and Draco relaxed his throat before looking up at Harry through his lashes. 

Harry had his lower lip caught between his teeth and a soft ‘yeah?’ When Draco nodded at him. Harry started fucking up slowly in his mouth, both his hands tangled in Draco’s hair to keep his head down. Draco moaned softly, the heady taste and musk surrounded his senses making him so cross eyed. Harry began increasing the speed slightly after Draco gave a nod, breathing through his nose as Harry let out a strangled moan. 

“Fuck- love I'm going to come. Two taps on my thigh if you want up,” he struggled out. 

Draco made no such move. 

Harry’s thrusts into his mouth became more shallow and sloppy and suddenly Draco was pushed down, the tip of Harry’s cock pushing almost into his throat as he came. Draco stayed where he was, tasting vaguely the salty taste of come, but something also distinctly Harry. Harry held him there still as he started going soft, humming before releasing his grip and Draco lifted up. Harry lifted a hand and brushed his fingers under Draco’s eyes, wiping away tears he didn't even know were there. Draco kissed the palm of Harry's hand, body flushed and warm and too aware of the weight of his jumper. 

Harry pulled him down on the bed, undoing the hair tie in his hair and running his finger through the white blond locks.

“I'm sorry for not speaking with you. I was gathering my thoughts because- I just- I really like you. You came back into my life like… I don't know, I'm not really good at this. I'm just- I needed time to think. It happened so suddenly and Ron was right because I was pining… I'm sorry. I know it doesn’t excuse it, but I truly am sorry,” Harry said, propping himself up on one arm and tracing his hip bone. 

“I was hurt, but I've liked you for too long to pass this chance up,” Draco breathed. 

“Should we just… see where it goes?” Harry asked shyly as if he wasn't just whispering the most filthy things in Draco’s ear. 

“I'd say so,” Draco said, finally having a chance to observe some of the tattoos that had remained hidden from him. 

There was a snake that coiled up and rested its head on Harry's neck, a fine line tattoo of a lily above his heart and two paw prints on his  ribcage. There was a chef knife on the arm he could see, what looked like the Sword of Gryffindor overlapping with it like an X. A small golden snitch darted around the area and just a bit further up and over was the Hungarian Horntail and he could have sworn he saw the curl endings of horns over the top of his shoulder. 

“I like your tattoos,” Draco whispered, bringing Harry's hand up from where it rested on his hip and kissing his fingers.

He loved this man so much. 

“Thanks, I plan on getting some more. I like your little cufflink,” Harry replied, gesturing to his right wrist. 

“So you've said,” Draco mused. “Too bad I still have this old thing. Wonder if a real tattoo would cover it up,” he said, gesturing to his left arm. The hand that Harry had returned to his hip found its way to his face, dragging the jumper up with it a bit. 

“It doesn't define you. You were forced. I know that you knew it was me in the manor,” Harry breathed. “But we can see if it'll work,” he said with a bright smile. It all fell impossibly sweet. 

“Yeah,” Draco croaked, passing the lump in his throat. “I'd like that a lot,” he smiled softly back. 

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When Draco woke in the morning, he was on his back, the warm Paris sunlight warming his skin and shining behind his eyelids through the window. He felt a warm hand tracing something… tracing lines on his chest. 

Lines .

Draco’s eyes snapped open and he looked over at Harry who had this look of absolute devastation. 

“I did that,” he said softly, voice tinged with guilt. Draco must’ve fallen asleep with his jumper on and took it off in the night. He cleared his throat a bit and turned on his side, facing Harry. 

“It's okay. I forgave you a long time ago, but I'd rather not talk about it first thing in the morning,” Draco said, heart achened by the pained look Harry gave him. 

“I want to talk about it at some point, but I'll respect your wishes. I am sorry though,” Harry said, leaning down and kissing down his chest against them. Draco felt his body flood with warmth, exhaling a small noise before a pounding sounded on their door. 

“You two better be up! Portkey is in fifteen minutes and I refuse to be late! Unless you're fucking! Then we can be late!” Pansy called through the door. Harry groaned and turned his head.

“Fuck off, Parkinson! Can't a bloke get his shit together?” He called back.

“Should've been together, mate!” Blaise called through the door and Harry let out a sigh before rolling out of the bed, Draco almost immediately missing his warmth. Draco got up and quickly pulled on yesterday's clothes and spelled his teeth clean, not worrying about the logistics at this point and Harry did the same. He smoothed out his hair and caught Harry before he opened the door, their friends still insistently knocking at it. Draco captured his lips in a tender kiss, not registering the quiet ‘ alohomora’ . Blaise whooped in glee and Pansy yelled out finally. Draco broke the kiss to glare at his friends, Harry letting out a warm laugh.

“Neither of you know about personal space,” Draco said with a sneer. 

“Darling, you're in last night's clothes, you have no room to say anything about personal space,” Pansy chided, checking the time. “We have exactly five minutes before the portkey activates, you two can continue this when we get home ,” she said grabbing ahold of Draco and Blaise ahold of Harry before they apparated to the French Ministry, rushed through wand checks, and made it to the portkey office right as their portkey was counting down from ten. They all grabbed on to a hairbrush before Draco felt that pull in his naval and warm hands steadying him when he landed.