Chapter 1
"Yeah, yeah, I know, okay? I've heard enough."
"It's not about you, Harry, I promise. Puddlemere just, well, it hasn't had the best look recently."
"I'll figure something out, I swear, just let me finish this season out."
"Fine. You can play, but please just settle down with some bird already. Or bloke, I don't care."
"Half the stuff isn't even true, you know!"
"Yeah, but the other half of it is. I'm not blaming you Harry, it just would be a lot easier if you publicly settled down. And maybe traded in your pint for a sponsorship health smoothie."
"Alright. Thanks for letting me play, Coach. Means a lot. Maybe I'll try a smoothie."
Fuck. Harry scuffed the edges of his converse as he shuffled out of his coaches office. Merlin, Hermione was going to have his neck. She'd been warning him of this for months. Harry could admit he led a bit of a messy life, but the tabloids were running wild with their stories. Whatever, he could still play. That's what mattered. He jingled the keys of his new flat and apparated to his doorstep. Storming in, he flopped face down, glasses on, into his bed.
Shit. It all started after the war, everything did. Him and Ginny didn't last long, although she was still one of his best friends. After that he found himself with freedom that he had never had in his life, even in his early days at Hogwarts. He declined the Auror offers and turned to quidditch, quickly becoming a star seeker for Puddlemere United. Not just because of a bloody scar, he hoped. Then, Friday nights at the pub with his mates became every night at the pub and slowly that became nights at clubs. Let's just say that he had been giving Rita Skeeter dirt until she dies.
He recently moved into a flat in muggle London because the gothic energy of Grimmauld Place was a bit depressing and according to Hermione, he needed a fresh start. That's where he was now. In an unmade bed in muggle London with a ton of boxes that he hadn't bothered to unpack yet. Adorned with the suspicious sounds of shagging coming from the neighboring flat. Bloody fantastic.
Pub night at the leaky was a fan favorite among Harry's group. Especially Harry. It was an excuse to see his scarce friends and, as his coach so graciously pointed out, Harry loves a good drink.
"Harry!" Ron boomed.
"How ya been, Mate?" Neville slapped him on the back. Seems like the drinks started early tonight. Ginny and Luna were all hugs and giggles.
"Good, good." He chuckled as he slumped into the booth besides Hermione. The table fell into easy conversation of the highs and lows of being 28 year olds. "Mione, I need to talk to you." Harry whispered. A couple drinks had given him courage to bring it up.
"Hmm?"
"My coach got on my case about the bad publicity."
"Harry, I am restraining the urge to say I told you so."
"You technically just said it."
"Hush up. How did it go?"
"Not bad, I can still play. Just told me to quit clubbing, basically."
"I'm happy you can still play."
"Yeah, me too. Thanks."
"I have a few coworkers that you might like to try a date with."
"I'll think about it."
"I appreciate that, Harry."
The night wrapped up, Merlin knows how late, and Harry stood in front of his door and fumbled with the keys to his flat. It was mid February and his fingers were ice cubes with skin. He heard footsteps behind him and glanced back. A familiar face greeted him. Looking bloody fit. Harry must be drunker than he thought.
"Draco fucking Malfoy. What do you bloody well think you're doing here?"
"Well, Potter, I am on my way to my flat."
"Your muggle flat?" He inquired stupidly.
"Yup." Draco gave him a look as if he was daring Harry to challenge him. He knew that Hermione had become somewhat friends with the pointy git, but he was still a bit weary. Harry lost his balance for a second and teetered over into his door. "Are you drunk, Potter?"
"Been drunker." Harry giggled.
"So I've heard."
"What? You like keeping up on my news?"
"Potter, you're so famous it's not a choice."
"Don't remind me. Now goodnight, Malfoy. Sweet dreams." Harry went back to trying (and failing) to get the keys into the door.
"What a berk." Draco mumbled as he took the keys from Harry and let Harry into his own flat.
"Danke." Harry grinned.
The next morning he woke up with a headache, probably from the amount of thoughts bouncing around. Or beer.
A few days later Harry stumbled out the door for early morning practice, coming face to face with a man coming out of Malfoy's flat. The man had hickeys all down his neck. Malfoy must be gay. Harry had to admit he was fit, with toned bronze skin and dark brown curls down to his nape. For unexplainable reasons, the thought of that man with pale legs wrapped around his waist made Harry's blood boil. He gave the man a curt nod. Why was Harry bothered by this? Was he homophobic? Maybe hearing all of Vernon's comments had stuck with him. He felt fine when he would snog a bloke at the club though.
Harry awoke in the middle of the night to a scream. He went into delirious shock scrambling to his wand and glasses and his eyes welled up with tears before he realized that he was in bed in his flat and he wasn't in immediate danger. He thinks. As the cloud of sleep wears of he realizes it must be Malfoy. Harry's first instinct was that there was danger, but then he thought back to the fit man sheepishly leaving Malfoy's flat and second guessed barging into the other man's flat. Harry uneasily lay back down. The noises coming from the other side of the wall were a toss up between distress and sex, maybe both.
Harry had been with a man before but he wasn't sure if that made him gay, especially because he had never been with a guy even remotely sober. He liked it, but who wouldn't enjoy getting off? Harry supposed he could talk to one of his friends about his unstable and unsure sexuality, but it felt a little too personal to discuss.
Another muffled scream broke through Harry's thoughts and this time was accompanied by sobs. That's it. Harry grabber his round framed glasses, swung out of bed, and hurried to Malfoy's door. He briefly wondered how strong the wards and if he would even be able to get in. To his surprise, he easily slipped inside. Harry noted to get on Malfoy's case about that, but bigger priorities were present.
"Malfoy." Harry whispered gently as he crept into the man's bedroom. He was sprawled across the bed, white knuckles gripped the comforter, and tears pouring down his cheeks. Harry was what you might call a nightmare expert, but he was definitely not a Malfoy expert. This needed to be a careful situation. He cautiously kneeled beside the bed.
"Uhgggh."
"Shh, I know. It's okay, You're safe." Tentatively, Harry reached a hand out to rest on his shoulder. Malfoy's hand shot up and his long fingers looped around Harry's arm.
"Hnng."
"Malfoy. Malfoy wake up, it's just a dream. You're alright."
"Mm. Sh- Shit. Potter?!"
"Sorry, you were having a nightmare."
"Trust me, I know." At this point Malfoy had released Harry and was now dragging his hand through his silky, blonde hair.
"We can, uh, talk about it."
"Just the war."
"I get them all the time."
"What? Nightmares?"
"No, you twat, bludgers to the head. Yes, nightmares." Harry said with a small smile. Malfoy smirked sleepily. He looked so vulnerable and soft in bed. Harry couldn't take his eyes off him.
"You must get a fair share of bludgers too. Only explanation of why you're so daft." Harry couldn't help but smile.
"At least I'm a quiet neighbor."
"You're a neighbor that barges into people's bedrooms. Plus, I'm sure you enjoy listening to me."
"Met that guy couple days ago coming out of your flat, was nice to put a face to the noise. Speaking of your fucking flat, do something about those wards. I got through without trying." Malfoy was blushing so hard Harry could see it in the dark.
"Uh, well, I'm not incompetent, I have strong wards but I, uh, once you moved in next door, I added you to my wards."
"Oh."
"Don't take it personal, Potter. I'm merely enabling what your savior complex is clearly doing already and would do even if I had not. Now go back to your own damn bed."
"Sassy bastard. G'night, Malfoy."
That was weird. And civil? His 12 year old self would be so confused. His 28 year old self was confused.
Later that week, Harry dove and swooped through the air. He was unsure on many things in his life, but quidditch was not one of them. He loved to fly. It was a zen state to be up in the air and winning was a satisfaction of life he valued. The feel of the broom and the wind whipping through the dark mess of curls on his head was like therapy. Also, his teammates were truly a godsend. Most of the time.
"Harry, have you found a girl who wants to date your sorry arse yet?" Giggled the Puddlemere Beater. It wasn't an insult, more ironic, because that was just the problem, everyone wanted a piece of Harry Potter. The stands during their games would chant his name so loud that the announcers would have to tell them to tone it down.
"I can't for the life of me. Coach is going to go grey at this rate." Harry laughed.
"Maybe my Gran will take pity on such a good looking fellow like you!"
"Give her my number!"
All jokes aside, Harry really did need a date if he wanted to keep his Golden Boy reputation intact. Plus, while he loved all his friends very much, it was mildly excruciating to see them all partnered up while he is the constant odd one out. Harry knows he has a family with the Weasleys and to be quite honest, most of his mates were family to him, but Harry is not opposed to the idea of someone that is exclusively his. He couldn't keep up the club hopping if he wanted to be starting seeker. Which he did, very badly.
So, he agreed to going on a date with some girl Hermione knew. At 6pm sharp. It was 5:41 and Harry was a mess. He was yarding clothes from his dresser and becoming increasingly aware that he has nothing to wear to a casual Tuesday night dinner. He's spins around in the mirror in the millionth outfit and bumps into his owls cage, sending Estelle into a fit of shrieks. In surprise Harry stumbles backwards and falls into his wardrobe, making a loud bang of bones against wood.
"Bollocks!" He shouted, crumpling in frustration, Harry debates cancelling the date.
"You alright, Potter?" Of course bloody Malfoy is home and can hear him through the damn paper thin walls.
"Do I sound alright?" He huffs back.
"Are you naked?"
"Why in the ever loving fuck would I be naked right now?" Silence. Then he hear his flat door open and looks up to see a smirking Malfoy leaning against his bedroom door frame. He had on grey fitted slacks and a black jumper. His hands and neck were adorned with silver jewelry.
"Just pay back for barging into my flat. Your wards seem lacking too." Harry rolls his eyes and quickly picks himself back up. He had added Malfoy to his wards, too. "Did a tornado roll through your bedroom or does it always look like this?"
"Shove it, Malfoy."
"You look... like you're struggling."
"I'm just in a rush."
"...For?"
"Fine, Malfoy. You want to know my life story? My career is fucked if I don't change my reputation and so I'm going on a date, but guess what? I have no clue what to wear on a date because I haven't been on one in years, and my wardrobe appears to be lacking proper dating wear."
"Didn't we all already know your wardrobe was lacking?" Harry shot him a glare.
"I would hex you if I could find my wand." Malfoy sneered and wandered over to his wardrobe. Peering into it judgmentally, he pulled out a pair of jeans that Harry hadn't worn in awhile, casted a couple charms on them, and threw them at him.
"Wear these."
"Why should I trust you?"
"Potter, I'm trying to help your pathetic love life."
"My love life is anything but pathetic. Your love life is pathetic."
"I thought you said you saw Pierre leaving my flat. Couldn't imagine many people calling him pathetic. Now, do you have a good shirt?" Harry spluttered for a second as Malfoy grinned, but he caved.
"What even is a good shirt?"
"Just a shirt that's not a band shirt or stained. Or on your floor."
"Er, yeah, Good luck with that." He mumbled as he awkwardly tugged his sweats off to put on the jeans. To his surprise they were a perfect fit and surprisingly flattering. He couldn't help turning to look at his arse in the mirror. Harry turned back around to the other man smirking at him.
"Harry, how do you go through life as a celebrity without a nice shirt?"
"I'll have you know I do have nice shirts, I'm just not fully unpacked from the move and have no clue where they are, you git." Malfoy sighed, solemnly.
"Wear mine." Malfoy tugged off his black jumper. He had a white undershirt underneath that clung to his slender frame. it was slightly pulled up and Harry caught a glimpse of a trail of blonde hairs leading downwards. He averted his eyes and clumsily tugged of his ratty tee. When Harry took his shirt off he couldn't help but notice Malfoy's eyes linger on his bare torso. Harry reasonably knew his body was pretty fit, as it came with being a seeker, but the other man's gaze was affirming in an odd way. "Do you have any jewelry?"
"No, not really."
"Merlin, Potter." Malfoy rolled his eyes, dramatically. He then began to gently pull off one of his many rings, tapping it with his wand he handed it to Harry. "It's the Black family crest. Thought because of Sirius you might like it."
"Malfoy. Thank you. Th-that means a lot." Harry stared at the ring now on his middle finger of his right hand, taking in the intricate detail. Admiring the way that the elegant silver contrasted with the warm brown of his skin.
"I've got to go meet Pansy. Have fun with your good reputation."
Harry as it turns out, did not have fun with his good reputation. She was nice and all, he was just so bored. The fact that Harry was surrounded by the smell of Malfoy didn't help him focus. He apparated to Hermione and Ron's house, just like he promised.
"Hey, mate, how was the date?" Ron greeted him.
"Boring."
"Harry! Hi! You look nice, is that a new shirt?" Hermione exclaimed.
"He says it was boring."
"Oh, was it bad?"
"No. A little awkward and a bit boring but not bad. I just didn't feel into it, you know?"
"Yeah, that makes sense. This is a good start."
"You think the news saw?" Ron piped in.
"Most likely."
"Keep you head up Harry, it'll work out!" He nodded and smiled at his friends.
"You two will never guess who's my new neighbor. Draco Malfoy." The named rolled of Harry's lips.
"Put some extra wards up, asap!" Ron joked, but Harry lightly blushed knowing Malfoy had full access of his flat.
"Be quiet, Ron. Malfoy is very pleasant now."
"I can imagine him being pleasant to you, our ol' Harry here might see a different side of him."
"Have you talked to him, Harry?"
"A bit here and there. Seems fine."
"Told you, Ron."
"Alright alright. Maybe still sleep with your wand." Ron said through his giggles. Hermione threw him a look.
Harry's life became pretty hectic in the next couple of weeks with practice ramping up, press conferences, and uncomfortable dates. He hadn't seen Malfoy in a long time. If he had seen him soon after that date, he probably would have given the ring back, but now he was quite attached to it. One night at the pub his friends asked about it, he just said he thought it was cool. It was odd that he felt comfort in knowing that his childhood nemesis was right next door when he needed him. As if he would ever need him, which we wouldn't.
Harry could hear Malfoy's voice now in the other room. It sounded like he was talking to someone. Who would be over at his flat at 10pm. Then he listened to the door open.
"Bye, darling."
"Ciao." It was a woman's voice. Maybe Malfoy wasn't gay. Harry crept to open his door just a crack to see a woman walking away. It looked like Pansy Parkinson. That was understandable, maybe they had a little friends to lovers.
"Potter, what are you doing?" Harry froze. He slowly opened the door to come face to face with Malfoy.
"I was just, uh, looking to see if my package was here."
"Pansy sure is quite a package."
"Er, so, are you two, like, a thing then?" Shut up, Harry. This is so bad.
"Potter, please, I thought you knew I was gay."
"Well I kinda assumed but I didn't know."
"When I was in France the papers really enjoyed stalking a gay death eater. Thought that the word was out." He said with a sorrowful smirk. By now they were both outside their door, leaning on the door frames. Harry cast a quick wandless and wordless muffliato. "Did you just cast wandless and fucking wordless?" Harry grinned at Malfoy's face.
"Don't sweat it, the papers are brutal, mate. I've had a time."
"At least for you it's not true."
"What's not true?"
"The stories."
"How do you know they're not true?"
"Are they true, Potter? Are you out shagging countless women and men on week days?" Malfoy said it in a joking way as if knowing the answer would be no. Harry shifted on the balls of his feet and smiled slightly.
"That part has some truth to it."
"Oh. Merlin, you're gay and didn't realize I'm gay?"
"What's the supposed to mean? How was I supposed to know?" Malfoy gave him a look as if he had just said something particularly stupid.
"Have a good night, Potter."
"Wait! Uh, do you want the ring back?" Malfoy looked at the ring still on Harry's finger and then dragged his eyes to meet Harry's for a long moment.
"Keep it." Harry's body did something weird. Tingles and flutters were happening in his stomach. He couldn't respond, he just nodded and shut his door. He soon realized that Malfoy was the first person he actually came out to. Honestly, he didn't even know whether or not he was truly bent or not.
The next few days he couldn't think about anything but Malfoy. During seeker drills all he could think about was how Malfoy used to fly. Merlin, he was losing it.
"Harry! Lad!" His coach called him over.
"Hiya, Coach. How was that feint?"
"It was good. Good move."
"Thanks!"
"I like the dating thing you've been doing and the cleaning up."
"Yeah, I'm working on it."
"Good, good. I'm happy, I really am. You ever gonna pick one of those girls? Turned into a bit of a serial dater!" He chuckled.
"Oh, I mean, I haven't really found a good match."
"Hope you do, kid, be nice for you to have someone around." Harry nodded as his coach walked away. Damn, even his coach thinks he's lonely. He is, a bit, but Harry didn't think it was so obvious.
Soon, it was Hermione's birthday and she was having a little party. Harry showed up early to help decorate. The bustling of Ron and Hermione's little house was nice. They had dinner and cake with the Weasleys at around 5, with plenty of Molly doting on them, and then friends started showing up later as the family part wrapped up. Harry was mildly nervous about seeing a few of his failed dates that were friends with Hermione, but there were enough people and alcohol to keep his distance.
Harry was in the middle of dancing the tango with Luna when he saw a flash of white blonde hair and given that Luna was already in his arms it must be none other than his neighbor. He probably should have expected such, but he must have forgotten Hermione and His' friendship. Pansy and Hermione were surprisingly close, so she was here too, but he's pretty sure she's already shitfaced. Probably so was Blaise. He twirled Luna into Ginny's arms and weaved through the crowd and out to the porch.
"Hi." Harry slid to his side. He was leaned up against the porch railing, cigarette dangling between two long fingers.
"Hello, Potter."
"Forgot you and Hermione were friends."
"Yes. We seem to have more in common than I thought."
"Never knew you smoked."
"I don't." Harry gazed at the man, analyzing.
"Come in have a drink with me. It'll ease your nerves." Malfoy stared at him for what felt like a long time before nodding and putting out his cigarette.
Harry grabbed them drinks and they sat on an empty couch, watching the event go on. Harry could smell the cologne Malfoy was wearing and the dim light shadowed his face, making his features even sharper. Harry breathed deeply.
"Let's play a game!" Announced a plastered Hermione. "Fuck, marry, kill!"
"Yes!" Squealed Pansy. Harry could feel Malfoy roll his eyes.
"Seamus you first, Snape, Dumbledore, Filch." Hermione giggled uncontrollably.
"Kill Filch, fuck Snape, marry Dumbledore." And so the games begin.
"Harry!" Ginny shouted. "Rita Skeeter, Viktor Krum and... Malfoy!" Oh, AK me already, Harry whined in his head.
"Kill Skeeter, fuck Krum, marry Malfoy." Harry did everything in his power not to look at Malfoy.
"Merlin, imagine fucking Krum. Imagine marrying him and fucking everyday." Dean said dreamily, and the game continued. Harry finally glanced over at Malfoy. He was preoccupied in his glass. The night went on and people began to head home or pass out on the floor. Harry himself was drifting off a bit when Malfoy nudged him.
"I'll apparate us home, if you like." He murmured.
"Yes, please." Harry mumbled as he got up and extended his elbow for Malfoy to take. In a crack, they were in the hallway outside their flats. Harry stumbled a bit and Malfoy reached out to steady him. Their eyes met for a second and Malfoy didn't let go of his biceps. Harry's eyes flicked down to Malfoy's lips. Quickly, he turned back towards his door. Right as he began to shut it, Harry sighed and turned back around, catching Malfoy by the wrist. What the fuck was Harry about to do? Leaning in, he cautiously brushed his lips against Malfoy's. When he felt him kiss back, he kissed hard and hungry. It felt like he could finally breathe. Malfoy's hands snaked up to the back of his neck and Harry slipped his hands under Malfoy's shirt to pull his torso towards his own. Malfoy's mouth dipped down to his neck and Harry could feel his hot breath and then his mouth on his skin. Merlin, Harry was hard. He rubbed his thumbs against Malfoy's hip bones, aching to be closer.
"Inside." Harry mumbled. Before he could think, Malfoy was pulling him into his flat and pinning Harry against the wall, their hands were everywhere and Harry's knees went weak with the smell of his cologne. Malfoy was hard beneath the thick wool of his, most likely, expensive trousers. He could feel their erections press together. Too many clothes. Harry broke the kiss to pull his shirt off and then tugged at Malfoy's buttoned up shirt. "Fucking buttons." Malfoy smirked and slid his cold fingers below Harry's waistband, teasing. Once he finally dropped Malfoy's shirt to the ground, he froze. Scars. Scars he put on this perfect body.
"Potter, don't you fucking dare apologize for that right now. If you're really sorry, you'll get me on a bed." Harry stared into his unwavering grey eyes. With a nod he led them to the bedroom. Once they were on the bed, pants were the biggest problem in their lives. Tugging them off, he was met with Malfoy's perfect dick. Like the rest of him. Quickly following suit, they were soon both naked. "Fuck me." Malfoy breathed as his hands squeezed Harry's arse. Harry's breath hitched and he took off the ring, placing it on the nightstand. Kissing his shoulder, Harry cast a quick cleaning spell and conjured lube. His lips met Malfoy's and his hand dipped down to the tight ring of muscle. Slowly, he began prepping him. Malfoy was gasping and whining as he worked and Merlin, he probably could have came just from that.
"Ready?"
"Yes, yes, I need you." Harry was aching with want but slowly slid in, to avoid hurting him. Once he was settled he began to move. "Yes, Harry, more." He fucking whined at Malfoy calling him by his name. Harry picked up the pace until he was pounding into him, hitting his prostate each time. His hand reached out to take a hold of Malfoy's leaking cock. His thumb circled the tip. Malfoy's pale legs wrapped around his waist and in that moment, Harry realized there was not a drop of homophobia in him, he had been jealous of Pierre. And he was bi. Harry's balls tightened up.
"Shit, I'm close."
"M- me too." Harry slammed his hips into him and felt his body losing control.
"Draco!" He groaned as he came. Seconds later he felt Malfoy explode in his hand. Harry cleaned them up and then pulled the other man into his arms, touching and kissing him. Malfoy traced Harry's tattoos with his finger. They lay there like that, bodies tangled, until they fell asleep.
Harry woke up to the sound of Malfoy moving about his room. Harry pushed his body up to rest on his forearms. Fuck, Malfoy looked so bloody fit. He was wearing black pants that showed off the curve of his arse and he was still shirtless, his slutty little waist on full display. He even had a few tattoos here and there that contrasted his pale skin.
"Morning, Potter."
"Back to Potter now, is it?" Harry tried to conceal his disappointment with a joking tone. Malfoy just smirked at him. He pulled on a lavender button up.
"I have work."
"Oh. Uh, see you later." With that Malfoy left. Why was he being so distant? Harry realized he didn't even know where Malfoy worked. Fuck this shit. Harry snatched the ring back off the nightstand and stomped back over to his flat. He had practice today and he wasn't going to be late because of Malfoy's infuriating behavior.
At practice he flew harder than he had in weeks. Afterwards, he went with Ron and Hermione for brunch at this new muggle café Hermione found.
"Hi, guys." He greeted them, sliding into the opposite booth.
"Hi!" Ron said.
"How did you like your party, Hermione?"
"Oh, it was good." She giggled. Ron soon broke into quidditch chatter as their food arrived. Harry was fucking up this egg benedict. He cast a muffialto.
"Um. I kinda have to tell you guys something."
"What's up, Harry?"
"I think I'm, um, I'm bent. Not fully bent, just, like, bi." Ron and Hermione exchanged a look.
"That's great, Harry, we're very happy for you, but, uh, didn't you already know?"
"What she means to say is that you've been shagging guys for years."
"Well. I don't know. I was always wasted when it happened, I guess I just didn't put too much thought into it. Didn't really realize it meant anything." He saw Hermione suppress a giggle.
"So, how did you find out? Was there something, or maybe someone, that prompted you?" She said curiously. He thought briefly about telling them about Malfoy, but he wasn't really in the mood today.
"No. I just kinda came to the conclusion."
"That's good, mate. Now we can add blokes to your dates!"
"Oh, I forgot to tell you guys, Pansy and I are going to lunch in a couple days and I thought, maybe I should bring you boys and she brings Draco and Blaise. If that's okay." Harry's breath caught in his throat.
"I'll go, but only if Harry goes. And I get one freebie insult, if need be."
"Er, yeah, I'll go."
"Great!"
A few days came and went with zero sign of Malfoy. Harry was getting increasingly antsy. Did Malfoy not like it? Right now, he was dressed to go to that damn lunch. Jeans, converse, and a maroon jumper. And the ring.
"Harry!" Hermione said. He grinned and took his seat. The seat directly across from Malfoy. Bad move. The group began talking, mostly led by Hermione and Pansy, but all Harry could think about was Malfoy. His collarbones were on display in his shirt and his hair kept falling into his face. Harry's thoughts kept drifting back to Malfoy moaning his name below him. His cock began to stir in his jeans. He could not have a semi at fucking lunch. He did.
"What do you think, Harry?" Pansy asked.
"Hmm?" He replied stupidly.
"You're bi, aren't you? Plus since you haven't shagged any of us it's fair game, out of Blaise, Draco, and I, who do you think would be the best shag?" Merlin, his heart was beating fast. Malfoy had a light dusting of flush on his cheekbones. He caught Malfoy's eye and held eye contact hard. Harry's dick began to thicken up even more.
"Blaise."
"Oh, Potter, I'm tickled pink!" Blaise crowed. Harry threw him a small smile. Luckily, he was taken off the spotlight when a new argument sprung of between Blaise and Pansy. Ron was even joining in too.
"I'm going to the loo." Harry said in Hermione's general direction before hurrying off. He shut the door behind him and braced himself on the sink. Why was he feeling like this? He stood there staring at himself in the mirror for a few minutes, before he heard the door open up. Malfoy. As he walked towards Harry, he threw a locking and silencing charm at the door.
"Dirty move." Malfoy drawled. Harry shook his head with a chuckle. He hadn't yet turned around to look at Malfoy. He felt Malfoy's breath on his neck and his lips ghosting on his skin.
"Why did you leave so fast?" Harry said, gruffly.
"I had work. What did you want, a kiss goodbye?" Yes, actually. He wasn't going to say that to a sneering Malfoy though. All Harry did was turn around and pull Malfoy into a kiss. "Potter. Do you have a stiffy?"
"Had one this whole fucking time." Pressing his hips into Malfoy as if to prove his point. Malfoy gasped ever so slightly.
"Guess we'll have to do something about that." The blonde murmured as he lowered to his knees. Slender fingers unzipped his fly and tenderly pulled out his aching prick, already leaking. Malfoy's pale hands looked incredibly hot around his dark cock, circling a finger around the tip. His pretty pink lips looked better. Minutes in Malfoy's mouth had Harry in shambles and moaning, fingers laced into the blonde's hair. Harry glanced down to see that Malfoy had taken his own cock out and was stroking it.
"Close." Harry managed to whine before his balls began to tighten. He moved to pull away from Malfoy, but Malfoy pulled his hips back into place. He swallowed every drop. After casting a quick cleaning spell over his own finish, Malfoy smoothly got up.
"You leave first. I'll wait a couple minutes." Harry fought back a string of profanities and begrudgingly went back to the table. He was at least relieved to see everyone getting along.
"Did our dear Malfoy get lost in the loo?" Pansy giggled.
"Must have, I didn't see him in there." Harry said lightheartedly and the conversation continued. When lunch ended, he said polite goodbyes and went straight home.
Today had been a long day. On a day like this before, Harry would be getting hammered in a pub or a club. Not much good came out of that, though. Except for the all the articles titled something along the lines of Harry Potter: Chosen One and Seeker Extraordinaire, Seeks his Downfall. It was a pretty hilarious in hindsight. Maybe Harry should frame some. Now however, he was making dal makhani for dinner. He loved the smell of spices.
Estelle suddenly appeared at his window.
"Hey, pretty girl, got anymore articles about me in your claws?" She did, as it turns out. He gave her a treat and sat down. There were some about his playing, some mentioning his dating life, and then one caught his eye. "Shit."
An enemy turned...sharer of rings: What is our Golden Boy up to? Plastered to the front page was a zoomed in picture of Harry's hand wrapped around his broom with a high definition display of the Black family crest side by side with a picture of Malfoy at a charity with the ring shown clearly on his finger. They even put a big red circle around the rings. Fuck. All in all, it wasn't that bad of an article because there was no weight behind it for most of the public to see. The problem was the weight it carried for Harry and Draco, it hit a little too close to home.