*****
"Just talk to him, everyone keeps saying. And when I finally do, it's a complete disaster." Harry flopped back onto the sofa.
"At least he didn't hex you." Ron stretched and patted his stomach. "God, I've missed Kreacher's cooking. I'm about to burst."
"He might have if there weren't so many witnesses." Harry groaned at the memory. "Some hero I am."
"Maybe next time you should try to talk to him in private."
"Oh, because getting him alone is so easy, is it?"
"What do you want me to say, Harry? I'm hardly good at the romance thing myself. It took me years to work up the nerve to tell Hermione how I feel about her. With two blokes it's probably ten times more awkward."
"Definitely. Well, possibly. I have no idea. I don't even know anyone else who's gay."
"Me either." There was a pause. "So is this about Malfoy, or are you just curious about the whole gay thing?"
"In other words, am I completely desperate or do I actually like Draco Malfoy?" Harry sighed. "I have no idea."
There was a rushing sound from the fireplace and they both looked up. A moment later Hermione stepped out, dusting herself off.
"Honestly, Harry, don't you ever have your chimney swept?"
Ron scooped her up in a hug and she giggled. "We thought you weren't coming! You missed dinner."
"I hope you saved me something. I'm starving."
"Kreacher'll make you a plate," Harry said. "And I'll talk to him about the chimney."
Hermione's grin faded a bit as she realized she'd just added a new task to Kreacher's work load.
Between bites she filled them in on the latest progress in the rebuilding of Hogwarts. Harry was impressed with the sincerity with which Ron hung on her every word. They even finished each other's sentences occasionally. It had never been like that with Ginny. He should have figured it out a lot sooner.
"Harry?"
"Sorry," he said, smiling at her. "It's been a long day."
She glanced at Ron with raised eyebrows and he shrugged, and she looked back at Harry with a mix of concern and sympathy. They even had entire conversations without speaking. It was almost depressing.
He recounted his unfortunate encounter with Malfoy in the café. To his relief, she didn't laugh at all, but seemed completely sympathetic.
"Oh, Harry. How utterly mortifying."
"I thought I recovered well," he lied. He ignored Ron's snort.
"I can do a bit of research for you, if you like. Maybe I can find some places where you could go to meet boys. I'm sure Muggle gay clubs would be easier to navigate than befriending Malfoy."
"Please don't," Harry said, trying his best to keep a tone of exasperation out of his voice. "I'll figure this out, I will. But I need to do it on my own."
Ron reached for Hermione's hand and squeezed it. She nodded.
"Now," Harry said, forcing himself to smile. "I think Kreacher has something lovely planned for dessert."
*****
"I can't believe we had to come back for a meeting after training all day." Ron groaned as he collapsed into his chair and a puff of dust flew up around him.
"I can't believe I thought field training would be easy," Harry replied, rubbing his aching shoulder. "I thought after that year I spent hunting horcruxes, being an Auror would be a piece of cake."
"And we're not even real Aurors yet. How long until the meeting?"
Harry glanced at the clock on the wall. "Twenty minutes. I'm heading to the showers in the gym."
"I've got to finish a report before that meeting, so it's a good scourgify for me." Ron didn't look very pleased about this. He'd never been very good with that particular spell.
"Good luck with that," Harry said as he headed out the door.
The Ministry's fitness complex was adjacent to the firing ranges and consisted mostly of large multipurpose rooms for combat training. Harry hadn't used the showers before, and so he was pleasantly surprised at the size of the facility. Like everything else in the Ministry complex, the bathroom was magically enlarged and elaborately decorated. In the center of the room was a large lap pool; he hadn't known it existed before and immediately made plans to swim during his lunch break.
A doorway to his right was labeled Showers; he walked through to find a long row of ornate doors. He opened the nearest one and his eyes widened in surprise: not only was there an elaborate shower with at least a dozen nozzles to spray water in every direction possible, but on the other side of the enlarged room was a massive tub with multiple spigots. It reminded him of the Prefects' Bathroom at Hogwarts.
He stripped off his clothes and hung them on nearby hooks, then cast a few cleaning spells at them for good measure. The shower was heavenly, and he nearly lost track of time standing under the warm spray. At last he turned it off reluctantly, reached for the fluffy white towel on a nearby shelf -- ah, with a warming spell, pure bliss -- and made a mental note to bathe here daily from now on.
At last he emerged from his shower room, clean and dressed and surprisingly re-invigorated. He couldn't wait to tell Ron what he'd missed. He walked down the corridor towards the main area and heard voices ahead. Familiar voices. He paused and peeked around the doorway.
Malfoy and Zabini were in the lap pool, swim goggles perched on their dry heads, apparently preparing to swim. Harry groaned. Of all the people to run into in the bathroom. Maybe he could just give them a friendly wave as he walked through the room and then make his exit as quickly as possible.
"I don't understand why, though," Malfoy said. "He hates me. He always has. Why stalk me for weeks and then make such a scene in the café yesterday?"
Harry felt his insides twist. He might be late for that meeting after all.
The expression on Zabini's face was eerily reminiscent of Ron's long-suffering look each time Harry talked about Malfoy. "I think it's obvious, Draco."
"It's not that. This is Potter, for fuck's sake."
"I know you don't believe me, but I've been watching him in the last week or so, and I see the way he looks at you."
Malfoy turned to look at him, eyes narrowed. "Wait, are you saying… Do you think he's family?"
Zabini shrugged. "That's the rumor."
Malfoy gaped. "Why didn't you tell me that before?"
"I assumed you knew, considering you're in the same department he is."
"It's a big department, and we don't exactly run in the same circles. Fuck." Malfoy groaned and leaned back against the side of the pool. "That complicates things."
"How does it--" Zabini's face lit up like it was Christmas. "Wait, are you saying you fancy him?"
"No, of course not!" Malfoy spat, though he sounded unconvincing even to Harry.
"I wouldn't blame you if you did. He's not bad-looking. And he has a fantastic arse, or haven't you noticed?"
"Of course I've noticed," Malfoy grumbled, and Harry felt himself blush. "But this isn't just any bloke we're talking about; it's Harry bloody Potter. There's a lot of history there, much of it involving me being on the wrong side of it. And did I mention he hates me?"
"I wouldn't be so sure. Isn't Saint Potter all-forgiving?"
"Probably. Not that I care."
Zabini snickered. "Oh, please. You practically came in your trousers yesterday when he deigned to speak to you."
"Fuck you, Blaise. I did no such thing."
"Did I mention his arse?"
Malfoy splashed him in response, and Zabini laughed and ducked under the water for a moment.
"Surely you've thought about it?" Zabini asked when he surfaced.
"Who hasn't?"
"Mmmm, point. Though I've more a mind to get my mouth on Weasley's big cock."
It was all Harry could do not to choke. He'd seen Ron naked, but now he wondered when Zabini had.
"How unfortunate that he's utterly straight and practically married to Granger."
"I've yet to meet a straight man who'll say, No, I'd rather not have my cock sucked, thanks when I'm on my knees right in front of him."
"If you bed Weasley, I'll personally suck your cock, Blaise."
Zabini pretended to yawn. "Been there, done that."
"Fuck you. I never get complaints." Malfoy pulled his swim goggles over his eyes.
"Not to your face," Zabini said, and then swam quickly toward the other end of the pool, leaving Malfoy sputtering.
When Malfoy started his lap a moment later, it seemed a good time for Harry to make his exit. He got back to the office with just enough time to tell Ron what he'd overheard -- though he left out the part about Zabini wanting to suck Ron off.
"So now you know," Ron said as he gathered a stack of papers and stuffed them into his briefcase.
"What do I know, exactly?"
"That Malfoy fancies you. He thinks you have a nice arse."
Harry felt himself grow warm. He hadn't processed that particular comment just yet.
"And he'd probably go out with you if you asked. So now--" He paused to clap Harry on the shoulder and steer him toward the door. "--you just have to decide if that's what you want."
"Right," Harry said. He was going to be completely distracted in this meeting.
*****
Harry had no idea why he'd thought it would get easier after that. Just because he knew that Malfoy wasn't opposed to going out with him didn't mean that Malfoy knew he knew. So for Malfoy, nothing had changed. For Harry, everything had.
For one thing, he'd stopped kidding himself that this was mostly just curiosity about how and why Malfoy got a job in the Wizengamot. He'd given up all pretense the night after overhearing the conversation in the bathroom, when he'd had a particularly vivid dream involving Malfoy and chocolate sauce.
He'd wanked in the shower the next morning, and for the first time he could remember, he wasn't fantasizing about a faceless person on his or her knees before him -- it was definitely about Draco Malfoy.
So yes, he was interested in Malfoy. Definitely interested.
Malfoy, on the other hand, seemed to be going out of his way to avoid Harry. He had changed his morning routine entirely and when he saw Harry he would generally turn and go the opposite direction. It wasn't until one Thursday morning in mid-December that Harry finally spotted his chance. Malfoy joined the lift queue and apparently hadn't noticed Harry watching for him in the Atrium, as he did every morning.
He wasn't stalking, he'd told Ron repeatedly. He simply arrived early with his coffee and liked to buy a pastry from the vendor and read the paper while watching the flow of people into the complex. And if he happened to see Malfoy, it was really a coincidence. Mostly.
He joined the queue a few spots behind Malfoy, and then skipped ahead of two wizards heavily engaged in conversation when they didn't notice the queue move forward. One maneuver more and he was standing right behind Malfoy.
"Good morning," he said, and saw Malfoy freeze on the spot.
"Potter," he said as he turned around, a tight expression on his face. "Good morning."
"Keeping busy?"
"I suppose."
"How are things down on your end?"
Malfoy's eyes narrowed. "I'm not allowed to discuss it."
Harry blanched. "Of course." He stared up at Malfoy for a moment. His mind had gone completely blank.
Malfoy sighed. "You should ask about the weather. It's traditionally the next topic of small talk."
"Right. So… cold enough for you?" He grinned.
Malfoy rolled his eyes. "If it's all the same to you we can just proceed to the part where you say you'll see me around, I pretend to agree, and we both wish each other a pleasant day even though we don't mean a word of it."
Harry's face fell. "Ah. Of course." He looked away. Maybe he was wasting his time. Maybe Malfoy had been teasing Zabini that day, or maybe he'd changed his mind. Maybe Harry's stalking had freaked him out. Again.
They rode the lift together, separated by half a dozen people. They both got off on Level Two, and started their separate ways. Harry walked forward ten feet and then on impulse, turned around.
"Malfoy?"
Malfoy stopped and seemed to steel himself before turning around again.
"I don't hate you. Quite the opposite, in fact. That's all I wanted to tell you." With that he turned around and walked away. Malfoy stood silently for nearly a minute before Harry heard his footsteps heading back down the corridor.
*****
"Are you all right?" Belinda asked as she straddled Harry's waist. "That was far too easy."
"I may not look tough, but you'll have to work a lot harder to do any real damage."
"Don't tempt me," she said as she swung her leg off of him. She held out a hand and helped him to his feet.
"Again," he said, adopting the correct stance this time.
She mirrored him and they circled each other. "You've been quite distracted lately."
"What does the rumor mill think my problem is?" he asked just before rushing her.
She sidestepped and managed to wrap a leg around one of his, bringing him crashing to the ground. A moment later she was sitting on his arse, roughly twisting one arm up behind his back.
"Ow!"
"Don't be such an infant. You did ask me to do damage."
"I was joking, fuck."
She released him and sat next to him on the mat. "Actually, the rumor mill's been a bit quiet about you lately. Why? Want me to start one for you?"
"No, of course not," Harry retorted, pushing himself up to sitting. He rubbed at his arm, which still tingled from the tightness of her grip. "You can do that?"
"Of course. Just tell me what you want people to talk about and I'll make it so."
A smile began to spread slowly across Harry's face. "All right then. Tell everyone that I have a tremendous crush on Draco Malfoy, but he's refused to have anything to do with me, so I'm depressed and pining for him."
Her eyes widened. "Is that true?"
"Does it matter?"
"I suppose not, but… why do you want everyone to think that?"
"Who was it who said the only thing worse than being talked about is not being talked about at all?" Harry pushed himself to his feet and extended a hand down to her. "I don't care what everyone else thinks. I just want Malfoy to hear it."
"Why?"
"Why not?" He grinned at her.
"All right, consider it done. Shall we go again?"
He stepped back and settled into stance. "Come get me."
*****
Belinda was nothing if not efficient. By the following morning, Harry was on the receiving end of a mix of curious stares and sympathetic looks everywhere he went. Even the cashier in the café, an old witch who was normally astonishingly grumpy, smiled sadly at him and offered him a free pastry.
By lunch time even Ron had heard the rumor. He cornered Harry in the office when the others stepped out for lunch.
"You could have warned me, at least," he said when Harry explained.
"I meant to, but it happened more quickly than I expected."
"I saw Malfoy get some dirty looks from the witches in Misuse of Muggle Artifacts this morning."
"Really?" Harry grinned. "I wonder if he's heard?"
"He looked confused. But I imagine when he finds out, he'll be more than a bit cross at you."
"Better than being ignored," Harry said, unwrapping his sandwich.
"Oh, you're pulling pigtails, then? How mature."
Harry's mouth was full, but he still managed to look affronted. He swallowed down a mouthful of sandwich before saying, "Oh, that's rich! Who was it that--"
"You promised you would never mention that again!" Ron said, his eyes wide.
Harry held up his free hand. "All right, fine. Yes, I'm being immature. But so is he."
"Then you deserve each other."
Harry grinned, though he wasn't completely certain Ron had meant it as a compliment.
*****
The following Monday morning, Harry arrived at the Ministry with two cups of coffee and set out to find Malfoy. He didn't bother waiting for him in the Atrium -- far too public. Instead he settled on a bench just outside the entrance to the offices of the Wizengamot, and waited. He got more than his fair share of strange looks from witches and wizards heading into the offices. He smiled politely and said, "Good morning," and each of them continued past with a mumbled "Morning" and a confused expression.
At last Malfoy came walking down the corridor talking to a witch Harry vaguely remembered from Hogwarts. Malfoy's eyes widened when he saw Harry and the witch walking beside him -- Sarah? Samantha? -- covered a giggle with one hand over her mouth.
"Bye, Draco!" she said in a singsong voice as she walked away. She'd clearly heard the rumor.
"Hi," Malfoy said, staring down at Harry. His cheeks were tinted and Harry found it oddly adorable.
"Hi," Harry replied and held up a cup. "Coffee? I don't know how you take it or if you even like it, but I promise I didn't put a love potion in it." He smiled in a way he hoped was sufficiently ironic.
Malfoy's cheeks pinked a bit more and his lips formed something almost like a smile. "I don't like coffee, but thanks anyway."
Harry shrugged. "More for me, I suppose. So."
"So."
They stared at each other for a moment. Malfoy's eyes had always looked so cold and hard to Harry in the past, but now they were almost warm. He took another sip of coffee to fortify himself. "I suppose you've heard the rumor that I'm on the verge of slitting my own wrists because I'm hopelessly in love with you?"
"I don't listen to gossip."
"Neither do I."
Malfoy raised an eyebrow. "My grandfather used to say that great minds discussed ideas, while small minds gossiped about other people."
"I always suspected the Ministry was full of idiots."
"So it is."
Malfoy didn't seem to be in a hurry to walk away, but Harry wasn't sure what else to say. He hadn't expected to get this far.
He took a deep breath. "Are you going to the DMLE Christmas party on Friday night?"
Malfoy shrugged. "I hadn't decided. Why?"
Harry opened his mouth and closed it again. "Just curious. I'll look for you there. Maybe I could buy you a drink?"
"I think there's an open bar."
"Fetch one for you then. Whatever." He'd hoped to look coolly disaffected, but suspected he rather didn't.
"All right," Malfoy said after a moment. "I'll see you there." He took a step backward and inclined his head toward the entrance of the offices behind him. "I have a meeting."
"Yeah, of course. I do as well, actually." God, that even sounded like a pathetic lie to his own ears.
Malfoy nodded and walked away, something suspiciously like a smile on his angular face.
Harry walked back to his office not quite certain what had just happened. Had they made a date? He had no idea. But the possibility alone made him smile.
*****
"Hold still, Harry. This won't take but a moment." Hermione ran her fingers through his hair again and did something that bordered on painful before stepping back and staring at him through narrowed eyes. "What do you think, Ron?"
"Looks great," Ron said from the adjacent sofa. His eyes were focused on the wireless as he tried in vain to find something about sport to listen to.
Hermione cast an annoyed glance in his direction. "Well, I think you look very handsome. A bit rakish, if I do say so myself."
"Does that mean hot, by any chance? 'Cause I was going for hot."
Hermione looked as if she was desperately trying to think of a response that wouldn't hurt his feelings.
He stood and checked his reflection in the mirror over the fireplace. "That looks great, Hermione. Thanks." It did look good, actually, if a bit more stylish than was typical for him. It suited the black shirt and dark green tie, which Hermione had pointed out matched his eyes as well as paid tribute to Slytherin. Harry wondered why he hadn't thought of that, being gay and all.
"Are we ready then?" Ron asked, finally looking up from the wireless.
"A drink first," Harry said, crossing to a side table where Kreacher had set out a crystal flask and some glasses for them.
"I think there'll be an open bar," Ron said even as he was reaching for a glass. Harry had never seen him turn down a free drink.
"I need some liquid courage." Harry poured them each a few fingers of brandy. "This is either going to go amazingly well or horribly wrong. Either way, I'll need to be inebriated to get through it."
"He likes you, Harry." Hermione took a dainty sip from her glass and seemed to be rolling the brandy around on her tongue. "This is lovely."
"Every time I saw him this week, I acted like a complete idiot. I dropped an entire file in the corridor and papers flew everywhere, just because he smiled at me."
"That's adorable," Hermione replied, with the sort of tone she usually reserved for tiny baby animals. "I'm so excited for you! We'll be like your wingmen tonight."
"His what?" Ron asked.
Harry knocked back the entire glass of brandy. "Great. Just what I need."
"Can we go now?" Ron asked.
"Let me run to the loo," Hermione said.
"They'll have one there!" he called after her, shaking his head. "Why does it always take half an hour to get her into the fireplace?"
Ten minutes later the three of them were stepping out of the lift on Level Two and were immediately greeted by festive music and decorations. The corridors themselves had been lined with swags of holly and evergreens, and twinkling lights covered the ceiling like stars. The party had spilled out of the rec rooms and into the corridors, with well-dressed witches and wizards standing in small groups and chatting amiably, drinks in hand. There was an occasional burst of raucous laughter, and Harry was struck by how incongruous the sound was with his experience of working in these rooms over the last few months.
"This is lovely!" Hermione said as they walked into the recreation area.
This was definitely the result of some impressive magic. There were ornate Christmas trees in every corner and garlands hung from the walls and ceiling. Twinkling lights were everywhere in the air over their heads, almost like tiny fireflies. A band was set up on the far side of the large room playing jazzy versions of holiday songs, and the large queue nearby seemed to be for the bar. The atmosphere was light and festive and everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves.
They made their way to the bar queue, which moved surprisingly quickly, and then found a corner to stand in with their drinks.
"Just think," Ron said, nudging Hermione, "you could be at Hogwarts this very moment supervising revision sessions for First Years."
"I owe Hannah Abbott a favor," she replied. "It's so strange to be there without the two of you."
"I would imagine it's strange to be there and not be in constant peril," Harry quipped.
"Well yes, there is that."
Something caught Harry's eye and he looked up to see a sprig of mistletoe growing down from the garland to hang over Ron's and Hermione's heads.
"Ah yes, someone warned me about that. It's charmed to grow over people who are attracted to one another." He grinned at them.
Ron grinned at Hermione before pulling her in for a kiss, and the mistletoe withdrew. "Charming, if a bit frightening."
"Not hiding anything from me, are you?" she said, winking at Harry. "Why don't you introduce me to some of your co-workers, Ron?"
"Go ahead if you like," Harry said. He'd just spied Malfoy across the room, talking with Zabini. "I'm going to get this over with."
"Good luck," they whispered in unison. Harry took a deep breath before heading across the room.
He saw heads turning and people leaning close to one another to whisper as he walked through the crowd, but he ignored them. People knew he was gay, and it was high time he stopped caring about that. He had to learn to accept himself before he could expect anyone else to do it.
Malfoy caught sight of him when he was halfway across the room and whispered something to Zabini, who nodded and walked away. Harry was relieved -- he'd hoped they would be able to talk in relative privacy.
After an interminable walk through the crowd, he was finally standing face-to-face with Draco Malfoy, current star of his dreams and shower fantasies. Malfoy looked good tonight in a tight, shimmering black shirt and expensively-tailored trousers -- but then, he'd always dressed up well.
"Hi," Harry said, smiling at him.
"Hi," Malfoy replied.
And just like that, there was a sprig of mistletoe winding its way down toward them.
Harry's smile turned into a grin. "Well, that answers that question."
Malfoy looked up. "I suppose it does."
"It won't go away until we do something about it, you know."
"Not here," Malfoy said, glancing around. There were already quite a few people watching them. "Let's go somewhere a bit more private."
Harry followed him through the crowd, doing his best not to stare blatantly at his arse. His heart was pounding in his chest and he felt almost giddy. Was this what he was supposed to feel like?
Malfoy led him around the corner to the men's bathroom, and they slipped inside as discreetly as they could. Even this room had been decorated, with floating candles in the lap pool and garlands draped down the hall of shower stalls.
It was quiet -- they seemed to be alone for the moment.
Malfoy stopped and turned to face Harry, his grey eyes surprisingly bright in the dim light. They both looked up as the mistletoe grew down toward them once more.
"So this is the kind that doesn't give up until you appease it with a kiss?" Malfoy asked.
"Only one way to find out."
Malfoy stepped closer and Harry was sure he would be able to hear the pounding of Harry's heart in his chest. Harry leaned in and a moment later felt a soft press of lips against his own.
It was a bit like the first time he'd done magic -- it filled him with excitement and took his breath away.
Malfoy slid an arm around him and pulled him closer, and then there was a press of tongue against his lips. Harry whimpered as the kiss deepened, scorched by every brush of Malfoy's tongue against his own. It wasn't enough; he needed to be closer, to be rougher, more.
He walked Malfoy a few steps backward and pressed him against the door of the nearest shower stall, hands against his shoulders. Malfoy moaned and it was all the encouragement Harry needed. He pushed a knee between Malfoy's thighs and pressed their hips together, suddenly aware that they were both hard. The kiss was frantic now and Malfoy's hands were everywhere -- up inside Harry's untucked shirt, sliding over the curve of his arse, tracing the waistband of his trousers and dipping inside. Harry was vaguely aware that he was shifting his erection against Malfoy's thigh, but he wasn't inclined to feel embarrassed about it.
There was a sound behind them and the noise level rose in the bathroom as voices from the party bounced off the walls. They broke the kiss and stared at each other, panting. Footsteps crossed the room toward the toilet stalls on the other side. A door latched closed. There was the distinct sound of someone pissing into a toilet.
Malfoy's eyes were dark and his lips were wet and a bit swollen. He cupped Harry's jaw with his hand and traced Harry's lower lip with his thumb. Harry opened his mouth and swirled his tongue around it before sucking in into his mouth, eyes locked on Malfoy's. Malfoy grinned, and Harry realized it was an expression he'd never before seen on his face.
A toilet flushed, and then there was a sound of running water at a sink, and then of someone blowing their nose.
Harry was still fellating Malfoy's thumb, and Malfoy leaned in to trace the shell of his ear with the tip of his tongue. He then worked his way down Harry's neck with soft kisses and bites, pausing here and there to suck on sensitive skin. Harry closed his eyes, stunned by the sensations that mouth was wringing out of him already.
At last the footsteps crossed back to the door and left them alone again. For a moment Harry thought about stopping this and suggesting they go back out to the party. It was probably too much too soon, and though he'd hoped they'd make out, he hadn't given much thought to it going further than that. He'd never even kissed a man before now. Was this what he wanted, to fuck Malfoy in the bathroom at a Ministry party?
Then there was a hand stroking his cock through the fabric of his trousers, and his brain went numb.
"Oh-hell-yes!" he said, pulling Malfoy against him hard. Yes, this was what he wanted. This lean hard body pressed against him, the cock that lay just underneath those trousers in his hand -- if he could just figure out how to unfasten them. Malfoy paused to help him right before he was about to rip them open, and then Harry's hand closed around the soft heat of Malfoy's prick, and yes that was exactly it.
Malfoy pulled him backwards into the shower room and closed the door behind them. He pressed Harry back up against it and roughly shoved a hand down Harry's trousers. They were stroking each other and kissing and both of them were nearly incoherent with want. It occurred to Harry that this was what sex was supposed to be like. This was what he'd been missing. It was glorious.
"Merlin, you're so hot like this," Malfoy whispered. He slid down Harry's body and tugged at his trousers, pulling them down his thighs. Harry opened his eyes to see Malfoy on his knees with an expression that bordered on greedy.
"Oh my god," Harry said, and then Malfoy swallowed his cock.
He'd had blowjobs before, of course. Ginny was quite good at giving head, and it had been a highlight of their sex life -- he could close his eyes and let his imagination drift and just feel. But the very idea that Malfoy was now sucking his cock was mind-blowing. This was really happening, and not in his head, and it was all he could not to come right then and there.
Malfoy was moaning around his cock like it was the best thing ever, like he couldn't get enough of it. Despite Zabini's dig a week ago, he was very good at this, using his tongue and hand in concert, with just the right amount of suction. He stroked and sucked and rolled the head in his mouth like he was trying to wrap his tongue around it, and his teeth grazed the foreskin over and over and--
"I'm gonna--" Harry managed, and it was all over. His balls tightened and everything focused down to the rush of sensation in his cock and the feeling of Malfoy's hot mouth surrounding him, sucking him dry, stretching it out until he was sure he'd never come so hard in his entire life.
He slid to the floor the moment Malfoy released his cock, unsure how he'd managed to remain standing that long. He felt dizzy and there were stars in his field of vision. That was probably good. If it wasn't, he didn't care. That had been worth a brain aneurism.
"Just give me a second," he said, letting his head fall back against the wall. "Holy fuck." He opened his eyes to see Malfoy sitting back on his heels, watching him with a smug expression. It occurred to Harry that Malfoy had swallowed. On the first date, no less.
Damn.
His eyes drifted down to Malfoy's cock, still at attention. Malfoy wrapped a hand around it and began stroking himself.
"Oh no you don't," Harry said, pushing himself to sitting. "That's mine."
He settled next to Malfoy on the floor and batted his hand away. It felt odd to have someone else's cock in his hand after thinking about it for so long. And he had thought about it for a long time, he had to admit. Even before Ginny had forced him to face facts, he'd thought about it.
He stroked Malfoy's cock slowly, lingering at the head and rubbing the foreskin against that spot that felt so good for him -- he hoped it was universal. Malfoy closed his eyes and made an encouraging sound.
"Tell me how you like it," Harry whispered, leaning in close enough that his lips brushed Malfoy's ear. "What do you want me to do?"
"That's perfect," Malfoy replied, his voice trembling slightly. "Maybe a bit faster."
Harry complied, using his fingers to tug the foreskin over the sensitive head and twist, circling over that sweet spot with his thumb. It was how he liked it -- indirect but seriously intense.
"I've been thinking about this," he whispered. "Wondering what you look like when you come. If you make a lot of noise, or none at all."
Malfoy was panting now and leaned into Harry's shoulder. Harry leaned down and caught his lips in a kiss, matching the rhythm of it with the movement of his hand. Malfoy moaned into his mouth and thrust his hips forward and then Harry felt his cock pulse under his fingers.
They were still kissing a few minutes after, slow and soft, as if they couldn't get enough. Harry wondered when they could do it again.
"I'm not particularly interested in this party," Malfoy said after a moment. "Want to get out of here?"
"Absolutely," Harry replied, and traced his lips with the tip of his tongue. "Want to come to mine?"
"Considering that I share a flat with my mother, I was hoping you'd suggest that." Harry felt a smile under his lips.
"I don't know about you, but I'd rather do it on a softer surface next time."
"Sounds perfect to me."
Malfoy deepened the kiss and Harry felt his cock beginning to grow interested all over again. He forced himself to sit back. "Either we leave now or I'm transfiguring something into a bed."
"Right," Malfoy replied, and pushed himself to his feet. "What's the exit plan?"
"Move fast?" Harry suggested. "If we stop, we'll be accosted by mistletoe, among other things. Though I have to admit that mistletoe was very handy."
"I don't think we're going to need mistletoe, Potter. Lube, perhaps."
Harry felt heat blossom in his cheeks and Malfoy leaned in to kiss him.
"Don’t get bashful on me now."
Harry decided right then and there he'd make Malfoy blush before the night was over.
They redressed and made a hasty exit, ignoring a few cat calls and knowing looks as they did. Harry managed to catch Ron and Hermione's eye as they walked out, and both of them grinned. They'd probably grin a lot less when they realized it would be the four of them at Grimmauld Place that night.
Harry didn't care, though. For the first time in a long time, he honestly didn't care about anything except what he felt right now.
*****
[Epilogue: Four months later…]
Harry yawned and reached for the coffee pot. Kreacher had become quite good at making coffee, despite his initial protests that no decent pureblood would touch the vile stuff. The fact that Draco had decided he liked it made Kreacher change his opinion rather quickly.
"Morning," Draco said as he stumbled into the kitchen. He kissed Harry's forehead and slumped into a chair next to him. "What was all that noise last night anyway?"
"Do you really want to know?" Harry dropped a lump of sugar into his cup and stirred.
Draco squinted at the coffee pot. "Does this have something to do with you getting up around 1:00 am? I seem to remember that."
"It does indeed."
At that moment, the sound of two sets of footsteps could be heard coming down the stairs. Draco groaned. "Please don't tell me I was awakened repeatedly overnight by the sound of Granger and Weasley fucking in the next room."
"All right, I won't tell you." Harry took sip of coffee.
"Why do they always come here? Don't they have a place of their own to shag in?" Draco's voice took on a slight whinge that Harry found incredibly endearing.
"Hermione lives at Hogwarts and Mrs. Weasley is convinced all of her unmarried children are still virgins. And hey, this is a big house."
"Which explains why they always wind up in the adjacent room, does it? Couldn't they at least pick another floor?"
"Morning!" Hermione said brightly. She settled across the table from Draco, grinning far more than someone who'd had so little sleep ought to do.
"Morning," Ron added as he settled beside her. He smiled politely at Draco, who returned it. The two of them accepted each other's presence for Harry's sake, but Harry had the sense it would turn ugly if he wasn't there to referee.
"Thanks for letting us stay over," Hermione said. "I hope we didn't cause too much of a disturbance, arriving so late?"
"Not at all," Harry replied.
Draco poured himself a cup of coffee. "I didn't hear a thing through the wall at 1:30 am, nor at 2:30, or--"
Harry was prepared to kick him under the table, but Kreacher picked that exact moment to bring them an elaborate breakfast, and to Harry's relief, Draco stopped talking. The conversation turned to Ministry politics briefly, and then Hermione spent a good twenty minutes explaining the issues the Hogwarts staff were having rebuilding the Defense Against the Dark Arts Classroom.
"No one can agree what's best and it's giving everyone such a headache. Potions wasn't nearly as much trouble, but--"
"Sorry," Draco said, pushing himself to standing, "but I'm afraid I must leave this delightful conversation. It's Sunday and my mother expects me for lunch. Harry, should I give her your regrets?"
"I'll be along shortly," Harry replied. He actually enjoyed visiting Mrs. Malfoy. She was a surprisingly charming person when not under the thumb of a Dark Lord. She'd welcomed Harry with far more enthusiasm than he'd expected, almost as if she was relieved her son had settled down with someone considered respectable.
"You two are so sweet," Hermione said after he'd gone. "How is it going with him living here?"
"It's going well, actually." And it was. It had been a bit over a month since Draco had moved in, and Harry could honestly say he'd never been happier.
"That's fantastic," Hermione said. Ron nudged her and they exchanged one of those looks that Harry had come to learn meant there was something they weren't telling him.
"Out with it, please," he said. "You're starting to worry me."
Hermione sighed. "Ginny's getting married."
"Oh, is that all? I thought you were going to tell me you were pregnant or something." Harry grinned at their looks of surprise. "Oh, honestly, you two. She firecalled me the night he proposed. Gorgeous ring. She seems very happy." He thought it best to leave out the part where she'd gone on to describe what an amazing cock her new fiancé had, and how they'd shared blow job tips and laughed themselves silly.
Hermione poured herself another cup of tea. "I told you he'd be fine with it."
"You were right," Ron said drily. They were practically married already.
"So what are you two planning for today?" Harry asked. They exchanged an awkward glance and he laughed. "Of course. Have at it. We'll be back mid-afternoon, in case you want to get crazy."
Ron grinned at him and Hermione blushed furiously.
Draco was still getting dressed when he got upstairs, and Harry paused to pull him into a kiss. "Sorry about all of that. I'll make it up to you tonight, I promise."
"Yes, you will." Draco's smile was wicked.
"Or I could make it up to you now," Harry said, dropping to his knees.
"We're going to be late."
"I'll be quick." Harry was already unfastening Draco's trousers.
"There had better not be any suspicious stains on my trousers when you're through."
"You think your Mother will mind, do you?"
"That's not even remotely funny."
"I'm about to suck your cock, Draco. Deal with it."
A moment later Draco's attitude had changed entirely. Curious, that.
fin
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