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~*~

"I'm glad you asked me to lunch," Neville began. He peeled back the top layer of his sandwich, examining the contents. "I have something to tell you."

"Oh?" Harry replied. He dipped a chip in sauce and watched Neville's face, which seemed to be a mix of apprehension and contentment.

"Louis wants me to move in," Neville said in a rush, and then took a large bite of his sandwich.

"Really?" Harry asked. "And is that a good thing?"

"I think so," Neville replied through his mouthful. He paused and swallowed before continuing. "I really like him, and he likes me. We like being together. And this is what you do in these situations, isn't it?"

"I suppose so," Harry said. He dropped the chip he'd been painting his plate with and sighed. "I think I'm in a relationship with Malfoy."

Neville's eyes widened, and he set his sandwich down. "Well, enough about me, then. When did this come about?"

"It's been coming for three weeks," Harry sighed. "As you well know. And then last night, he stopped by and…" He paused, wondering how much detail he really wanted to share with Neville.

"Ah," Neville replied. "So I'm guessing it was more than just good sex."

"Fucking amazing sex," Harry said, trying not to grin. "But there's something else going on too. I like being with him. I like talking to him. I like listening to him. I don't feel like I have to try to impress him or always say the right thing."

"Cause he'll take the piss anyway?" Neville snorted.

"Something like that," Harry said, ducking his head. "And it's completely bizarre because I haven't… well, the sex has been rather one-way so far."

"Because you're uncomfortable with the idea?"

"I'm not, though." Harry paused, realizing that it was true. "I simply haven't had an opportunity to reciprocate. He hasn't let me. I think he knows I haven't done any of this before and he's taking it slowly. I know you think he's a horrid person, but he's been quite sweet to me."

Neville looked thoughtful for a moment. "I told you a couple of weeks ago that I thought Malfoy was bad for you, and I should probably explain why I thought so." Harry opened his mouth to protest, but Neville continued before he could speak. "Years ago, I ran into Malfoy in a club here in London. We were both fairly pissed, and we ended up in the bathroom and… well, you can probably guess what happened. But it was… he was so unpleasant about it all. It was all about what he wanted, and he didn't care if I got off or not. That was the night I decided I wasn't going to fuck around casually any more. I didn't want pricks like Malfoy using me to get off like that."

"Neville--" Harry began.

"Let me finish," Neville said, holding up his hand. "You know I care about you, Harry. There was even a time when I thought I was in love with you. Remember that night in the field outside of Cornwall?"

Harry nodded, looking away. "You don't have to explain--"

"I've avoided it for a long time. I don't want to pretend it didn't happen any more."

"You were drunk," Harry sighed. "It had been a horrible month, and we were all a bit frazzled."

"The important thing is that you let me kiss you that night. Even though I knew you were just doing it out of pity, I appreciated the fact that you cared about me enough to give me that moment."

"It wasn't pity," Harry said, pressing his hand against his forehead. "I can't believe we're talking about this at a pub, of all places."

"Whatever the reason, you've always been a decent person," Neville continued, lowering his voice a bit. "And even though I knew you would never love me back, it was better than being rejected outright."

"It was a nice kiss, actually," Harry said, looking up again. "I remember being surprised by that."

Neville cleared his throat. "Anyway, after that night with Malfoy, I thought about that kiss a lot. I thought that if one of the best kisses of my life was shared with a straight man who was too good a friend to push me away when I came on to him, then maybe I was going about the relationship thing in the wrong way."

"So Malfoy was a prick and it changed your life," Harry sighed. "I'm not sure where you're going with this."

"My point is that everything I told you about Malfoy a few weeks ago was based on one incident that affected me a great deal. But it wasn't fair of me to assume that was who he really was, or that he hadn't changed. And from what you've said about him, it seems like he could even care about you."

Harry let himself smile, just a bit. "Does this mean you're giving your blessing?"

"I don't know," Neville said, and shrugged. "Do you need it?"

"It helps," Harry replied. "Otherwise I'd have wondered if I were going crazy."

They smiled at each other for a moment. Neville took a sip of his drink and pursed his lips. "So you weren't just kissing me that night out of pity?"

Harry shook his head. "No. And I seem to recall you were the one who stopped first."

"I had an erection and I didn't think you'd shag me," Neville sighed. "Walking away seemed the only way to salvage my dignity at all."

Harry smiled. "Maybe you should have asked. It could have saved me an awful lot of trouble."

Neville laughed and shook his head. "I suppose it's good to know I wasn't a fool for caring about you so much."

"You're not a fool, Neville. Not at all."

~*~

There was a quivering blue envelope on Harry's desk when he returned. He froze when he saw it, a spike of dread going through him. That was almost never a good sign.

He gritted his teeth and tapped it with his wand. It opened with a shower of sparks and the voice of the department supervisor filled his office, sounding sharp and foreboding: Mister Potter, I want to see you in my office immediately.

Harry groaned. He knew he'd been distracted of late, but she sounded rather more than annoyed. He must have fucked up somehow.

He ran through of list of things he was supposed to have done in the last few weeks as he walked down the corridor to the lift. He couldn't think of anything he could have forgotten that would have warranted such a response, though. As the lift sank down below ground level, his stomach twisted. It must be something he'd bungled up completely. There was no other possible explanation. And of course, not knowing what he was about to walk into, he'd be entirely unprepared to defend himself. What if she sacked him?

He'd only taken this job for something to do -- it wasn't as if he'd needed the money. And though he liked the work and the people around him, it wouldn't break his heart to be told to move on.

Of course, the headlines would be a bit embarrassing. He'd managed to stay out of the papers for nearly six months now, and it had been rather pleasant.

The lift doors opened and he steeled himself before stepping out and walking to her office. The door was closed, so he had to knock, which only made him more tense. He heard a terse, "Come in" from the other side.

He pushed the door open to see Collins sitting behind her desk, stonyfaced. And sitting in the chair opposite, looking pale and apprehensive, was Neville. Harry shot him a questioning glance, but Neville only got a bit greener.

"Have a seat," Collins said. She flicked her wand and conjured an uncomfortable-looking chair next to Neville's.

Harry sat, trying not to look at Neville's face. It was only worrying him more.

Collins sat back in her chair and scrutinized Harry. "I know this is a personal question, but I don't have a choice. What is the nature of your relationship with Draco Malfoy?"

Harry frowned and looked at Neville again. Neville stared at his hands. "I'm sorry, but I don't understand why that's important."

Collins's sigh sounded frustrated. "Just answer the question, Potter. Are you friends, relatives, lovers, old school chums, or what?"

Harry blinked in surprise. "Erm… well, we're sort of dating, actually."

Collins nodded as if this news did not surprise her. "And how long have you been dating him?"

"I still don't see how this--" Harry blurted, but at Collins's expression, he relented. "Not long. A few weeks."

"And did it not occur to you that this might significantly compromise the investigation?"

Harry felt his stomach sink. "What?"

"It appears more than a touch improper, you know, that one of our top investigators starts dating one of the most prominent employees of an organization we have been preparing to audit for months."

Harry gaped for a moment. "But I'm not involved in that investigation. I investigate banks, not charitable organizations." Neville made a strange sound, and Harry turned to see that he was pressing a hand over his face.

Collins was looking at him as if he were insane. "Potter, you are one of the primary investigators assigned to the Randkings Bank case, are you not?"

"Yes," Harry replied, though his voice was small.

"Have you any idea what the purpose of that investigation is, or should I explain that as well?"

Harry felt as if the world had been turned upside-down. He closed his eyes. "Oh god." He opened them again to see Collins glaring at him and Neville looking more pale than ever. "They've allegedly been engaged in money laundering, through organizations run by former Death Eaters. But I didn't know that the organization Malfoy works for had any connection to Randkings."

"And the Minister's commission will certainly believe that story, as will the Daily Prophet!" Collins snapped. She sighed and shook her head. "We all make mistakes, Potter, especially where relationships are concerned, but I find it hard to believe this was all a coincidence."

"You think Harry started a relationship with Malfoy on purpose?" Neville asked. "That's not-- I mean, it isn't my place to explain, but that just isn't possible!"

"Not to mention that it's not the way I have ever approached my job!" Harry spat, feeling emboldened by Neville's support. "I can't believe you'd even think such a thing."

Collins's eyes narrowed. "I needed to know the truth, Potter. And if I am to believe you, that only leaves one other alternative: that he knew about the investigation and was planning to use this relationship to blackmail you."

Harry nearly laughed. The idea wasn't exactly preposterous, but it hardly seemed likely. After all, he'd decided to go after Malfoy himself, and that was how all of his started. Hadn't it? He looked over at Neville, who was more ashen than before.

It wasn't completely impossible, now that he thought about it. And that meant that everything that had happened between them might have been staged. Malfoy could have been toying with his affections all along. Based on Neville's experience, it sounded like something he might do. Malfoy had made it clear that he really needed that job. What would he do to keep it?

Harry felt sick. He sank down in his chair and put a hand over his mouth, just in case.

Collins sighed. "I'm sorry, Potter, but I have no choice but to remove you from the investigation. Take a leave for a week or so and get yourself together."

Harry nodded, relieved. He'd expected far worse.

"And you as well," Collins said to Neville.

"What?" Neville exclaimed. "Why me?"

"Because you knew this was going on, Longbottom. You had access to the same information Potter did, and you did nothing to stop it."

Neville looked for a moment as if he might continue arguing, but he fell silent and looked away.

"I know you both have worked hard on this case for a year, but my hands are tied. We'll never get this indictment through if there's even a hint that my investigators weren't playing by the rules. I only hope there's still time to repair the damage you've caused." She stood and gestured toward her office door.

Harry and Neville didn't speak until they were standing in the lift together. Harry felt guilty and foolish and crushed, all at the same time.

"I'm sorry," he said, unable to bring himself to look at Neville. "This is all my fault."

"Not necessarily," Neville replied, though his voice was stiff. "There's always the possibility that he was playing you."

Harry leaned back against the side of the lift and groaned. He didn't want to entertain the thought of it. It only made him feel worse. "I don't know. It would be hard for me to believe that."

"Would it?" Neville retorted. "I suppose you're so special that even the possibility of capturing your affections can turn a hardened commitment-phobe like Malfoy into a blithering romantic?"

"Yes, exactly," Harry spat. "Because I'm such a prize, you know. Everyone wants a piece of me, including Malfoy. Why shouldn't he get on his knees and beg to suck my cock like everyone else?"

And of course, the lift doors opened just in time to broadcast the last phrase into the corridor, where a group of their co-workers were waiting for the lift.

"Fuck," Harry hissed, and pushed past the smirking lot of them.

"Harry!" Neville shouted after him, but Harry didn't turn around. He went into his office and slammed the door.

~*~

When his third owl to Malfoy came back unread, Harry couldn't sit around any longer. He packed up his bag and left the office, ignoring the wolf whistles that followed him out the door. He apparated to the nearest apparition point near Malfoy's and Pansy's flat and then rang the buzzer for nearly a minute before apparating himself into the corridor just outside their door. Luckily no one was in the corridor, but Harry hardly cared. He needed to find out what had happened between him and Malfoy -- and why.

He knocked on the door several times and pounded on it once before it was opened at last. Pansy stood before him, wearing nothing but lacy undergarments. Her eyes had dark circles beneath them and her hair was mussed.

"Are you all right?" Harry asked.

"Mmmm, yes," she replied, leaning against the door frame. "I'm wonderful, actually. Draco's not here, but you can come in and wait for him if you like." She staggered off toward the living room, leaving him standing in the corridor with the door open.

Harry closed the door behind him and followed her. She was drunk or stoned, or perhaps both, and there was no sign Malfoy was there at all. He walked around the corner and saw her sprawled on the sofa. "What have you taken?" he asked.

"M," she replied, gesturing vaguely in the direction of the sofa table. "Want some?"

Harry picked up an empty vial from the table and tilted it. A few drops of blue-green liquid remained in the bottom. "I think you already took it all," he replied. "Where did you get this, anyway?"

"I won't tell," she replied in a singsong voice, stretching languidly.

Harry shook his head. He'd taken M once, not long after the War at a party that had been going for several days. He'd had a hangover for nearly a week, and he'd never touched the stuff again. "The Ministry regulates coindi seeds for a reason, you know."

"Because they're so wonderful," she replied, pushing herself to sitting. She smiled up at him, eyes glazed. "Want a drink?"

"No," Harry replied, setting the vial down again. "Do you know where Draco is?"

"Noooo," she said, and managed to get to her feet. "He's probably at work." She flung her arms around his neck, and he caught her as she swayed forward. "Mmmm, Harry. You're so hot." She let her head fall back and looked up at him. "We both think so, you know."

"I'm flattered," Harry sighed, trying to peel her off of him. "And I think you should lie down again, and I'll get you something cold to drink."

"Ooh, will you lie down with me?" she breathed, nuzzling her cheek against his.

"I'll sit here with you, I promise," he told her, and managed to get her to sit on the sofa again. He went into the kitchen and found some juice in the refrigerator, and fumbled around until he found a glass. He poured it and then stood there for a moment, trying to collect himself. Pansy had just thrown herself at him, and he'd not been a bit interested. She was stoned out of her mind, of course, but it hadn't even occurred to him to take advantage of that. "I really am gay," he whispered, leaning back against the counter. "Either that or too much of a gentleman for my own good."

She was singing a tune he didn't recognize when he came out again. He sat on the opposite end of the sofa from her and set the juice on the table.

"Harry," she said, almost sounding pouty, "Aren't you going to come over here with me?"

"You're not yourself right now," Harry replied. "In fact, I think you're going to feel quite silly about this in the morning."

"Hah," she replied, and was silent for a while.

"Oh, Pansy, why did you do this?" he asked. "Here all alone, in the middle of the day. One would think…"

"That I'm a fucking wreck?" she said, laughing. "Oh, Harry -- I've known that for ages." She crawled across the sofa toward him, then knelt beside him and grinned. "I'm a loser, Harry. I lost. But I didn't cheat, did I?"

"No," he replied, though he hadn't a clue what she was talking about.

"I didn't even cheat. It's not fair!" She poked him in the chest with one finger, so hard that it hurt.

"Hey!" Harry said, rubbing at the spot. "Careful, now."

"Careful," she repeated in a whisper. "Oh, yes, I'll be careful." She swung one leg over him so that she was straddling his lap, and gyrated against him slowly. "See? I can be careful."

"Pansy, don't." He took her by the shoulders and tried to dislodge her, but she went limp against him. "This isn't what you want," he whispered.

"Yes," she replied, reaching behind herself. She unfastened her bra and pulled it off, tossing it to the floor, and then leaned back to give him a better view. "It is, actually." She had gorgeous breasts, and Harry couldn't help but stare at them. Not too large, but round and full, with nipples tight and hard. He'd never been as fascinated by breasts as had most of his male friends, but he appreciated them just the same.

"Don't you want me?" she asked. She caught one of his hands and brought it up to her breast, pushing his thumb across the nipple. "Don't you want to fuck me?"

Harry closed his eyes. Just two weeks ago, the answer would have been an unequivocal yes. He would have torn her knickers off and fucked her right here on the sofa, and he probably would have enjoyed it.

But he would have left feeling empty and guilty, and he wouldn't have returned her owls. He would've have treated her the same way he'd treated every other woman he'd been with -- as someone to have a good time with for a short while, but not much more.

Just as Malfoy had apparently treated people, until Harry.

"I can't," he told her, pulling his hand away. "It's not that I don't like you, I just… I care about Draco too much to do this."

"No, you don't," she replied, giggling. She leaned forward and pressed her breasts against his face. "You fancy this even more. You've just forgotten."

"Pansy!" He pushed her back, but she leaned forward and kissed him, settling her weight on him and effectively trapping him against the sofa. And then, Harry heard the sound of a key turning in the lock and the door opening. He tried to push Pansy away again, but it was as if everything was in slow motion: she laughed and tossed her hair, and settled more firmly against him, grinning maniacally.

And then there was the sound of a bag being dropped, and time resumed its normal speed again.

"What the fuck is this?!"

Harry's blood felt as if it had frozen, but Pansy only kept laughing. She fell off of Harry's lap and onto her back on the sofa, revealing Malfoy standing behind her. He looked furious.

"Draco--" Harry began, but Malfoy cut him off.

"Get out," he growled, glaring at Harry. "I'm surprised you even had the nerve to come here tonight. And you --" He turned to Pansy and looked as if he were about to say something nasty, but then seemed to change his mind. "Are you stoned again?"

"Yes," Pansy said, sounding more tired than anything. "I tried, Draco, but he's far too resistant. He's all yours."

"No, he isn't," Draco replied, his voice dripping with venom. "He's never been mine."

Harry leapt to his feet. "At least let me explain--"

"Explain what?" Malfoy spat, advancing on Harry with a murderous expression. "Why you got me sacked and seduced my roommate, all on the same day?"

"No!" Harry exclaimed. "That isn't the-- Wait, you got sacked?"

"Get out!" Malfoy shouted. He fumbled for his wand, but Harry got to his own first and pressed the tip of it into Malfoy's chest. Malfoy looked murderous, but he held his hands out to the side in a gesture of submission.

"I don't care if I have to use a binding spell," Harry said, on the verge of shouting himself. "You're going to shut up and fucking listen to me."

Malfoy glowered at him. "Pansy too?"

"Go to bed, Pansy," Harry said, not tearing his eyes from Malfoy's. "Sleep it off."

Pansy giggled and stumbled into her bedroom, closing the door behind her.

"Fine," Malfoy said, as casually as if he'd been given a choice in the matter. "Talk."

Harry paused -- he had to remind himself that his objective here was to convince Malfoy to believe him, not to win an argument. He took a calming breath before he spoke again.

"I have no idea what happened to you today," he began, "so don't try to blame me for it. All I know is that I've been working for a year on a case in which a bank is allegedly laundering money for former Death Eaters. I learned only today that the Foundation you work for is suspected to be involved. And when my boss found out that we've been seeing each other, she accused me of wrecking the entire case and then put me on leave."

He waited for a response, but Malfoy's face remained impassive, as though he hadn't believed a word. Harry gritted his teeth in frustration.

"Come on, Draco, I had nothing to do with you getting sacked! I came here tonight looking for you because you sent all my fucking owls back. Pansy was stoned out of her mind and she attacked me, and that's all. Nothing happened."

"Are you finished?" Malfoy asked, not bothering to dampen his sarcasm.

"Yes," Harry replied. He wasn't sure what else to say to that.

"Good, because now it's your turn to fucking listen," Malfoy began. "I got sacked today because someone at Randkings Bank sent a private owl to the Director of the Foundation telling him that the Ministry was going to investigate. On top of that, he'd somehow learned that I've been seeing you, and he accused me of working with you and spying for the government, in front of the entire staff. And when I told them it was just a coincidence, another person said he'd heard you tell someone at a pub that you weren't interested in me at all. You said that you were actually interested in Pansy and you were just going to use me to get her and the Foundation in one shot."

"That's not…" Harry began, but stopped. He didn't want to lie, not anymore. It wouldn't help matters at this point. He sighed and lowered his wand. "I didn't know about the Randkings connection, but I'll admit that at first, this was about Pansy. I'd heard you were a bit of a player and that she went after your cast-offs, so I thought I'd give it a shot."

"It looks like you got what you wanted," Malfoy scowled.

"But I changed my mind," Harry said. He was starting to sound a bit desperate, but he didn't care. "I got to know you and… I always thought I was straight before, but now I know I'm not. It stopped being about Pansy more than a week ago. This is about you and me."

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "That's pathetic, Potter. Do you really expect me to believe that? I'm not stupid, you know."

"I didn't--" Harry began, but Malfoy cut him off with a vicious glare.

"I've lost everything, Potter. Without that job, I have nothing. No one else will hire me. No one else will even look past my fucking name. I'm going to lose this flat and everything in it, and it's your fault!" He pushed past Harry and stalked toward his bedroom, not even glancing back over his shoulder. "So stay and fuck Pansy, or leave. I don't care. Just leave me the fuck alone."

He slammed the door behind him, and Harry felt as if something in his chest had snapped. He crossed to Malfoy's door and pressed his forehead against it, squeezing his eyes shut.

Malfoy cared about him. He had to -- why else would he leave the room without hexing him or taking a swing at him? That's what he would have done years ago, when they despised each other. Perhaps that just meant they'd both grown up.

Harry swallowed down his frustration. If he walked away now, it would all be over, and he'd probably never see Malfoy again. This was the only chance he'd have to make this work. And it was what he wanted, he realized. He wanted to try this, even though it was different than anything he'd ever done, and even though he knew it would be difficult. He couldn't simply walk away from Malfoy.

He took a deep breath and pushed the door open. The room was dark and quiet, and for a moment he wondered if Malfoy had disapparated. He stepped through the door and closed it behind him.

"Draco?"

He'd barely finished the word when he was slammed back against it, Malfoy's hand around his throat.

"Looks like I'm not the only one who can't listen," Malfoy hissed. The room began to fill with a dim light, making Malfoy's features appear in sharp relief. He almost looked sinister.

Harry still had his wand in his hand, and it was a testament to the depth of Malfoy's anger that he hadn't noticed. Harry concentrated, and with a thought and a flick, their positions were reversed and Malfoy was bound to the door by tendrils of red light at his wrists and ankles. He gaped at Harry, too surprised even to be angry.

Harry spun his wand in his fingers and then set it on the bedside table, far out of reach. He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, uncertain what to do next. He was in too deep to turn back now.

"You didn't let me answer your question," he said.

Malfoy only glared at him in response.

"I see you're going to listen," Harry continued. "Good. You asked why you should believe me. After what you saw when you walked in, I can't say I blame you. But nothing would have happened, even if you hadn't come in. Whether or not you believe that is irrelevant."

Malfoy made a snorting sound and let his head fall back against the door.

Harry stepped forward, close enough to touch Malfoy, though he didn't just yet. "Yes, I flirted with you at that party to get her attention, and yes, I went to Scotland with you because I wanted to see her again. But then you kissed me." Harry paused and leaned forward, close enough to inhale the scent he'd come to associate with Malfoy. It was woodsy and complex, and a bit rough around the edges. He placed his hands on the door on either side of Malfoy's body and sighed. "After that, I was curious. So I came every time you invited me. I told myself and my friends that I was doing it to get into Pansy's knickers, but it wasn't true." He nuzzled Malfoy's neck with the tip of his nose, and -- unable to stop himself -- planted a soft kiss under his jaw. "It was about you. I dreamt about you. I even thought about you when I wanked."

Malfoy's breath seemed to catch at that. He still didn't speak, but his limbs slackened against the magical binds.

"I don't care if you believe me or not," Harry continued, his voice no more than a whisper. "Because when you touched me that night in the club, there was no turning back. Last night you made me feel things I've never felt before, and then you wouldn't even let me touch you in return." Harry trailed one hand down Malfoy's side, relishing the feeling of heat seeping through layers of clothing. "But I wanted to touch you, even though I've never properly touched another man. I've never sucked a cock before. I've never been fucked. Do you really want me to do all of those things with someone else?" He placed one hand on the side of Malfoy's face and tilted it down, looking into his eyes. "If all I'd wanted was to fuck Pansy and get you sacked, would I be in this room now?"

Malfoy didn't answer the question. Instead, he closed his eyes. After several long seconds, he opened them again and blinked at Harry. "Are you going to kiss me or what?"

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Are you asking me to kiss you?"

"No," Malfoy whispered in response, his eyes defiant.

Harry considered holding out for an actual request, but he wasn't sure he would get one, so he kissed Malfoy. It was soft and a bit wet, and almost painfully slow, but Harry relished it because Malfoy kissed him back, despite his apparent reluctance. In fact, he was being remarkably cooperative for someone in his position. An image of Malfoy pressed against a door several weeks earlier flashed across Harry's mind, and the jolt of desire he felt nearly made him moan. He pulled away to catch his breath, and let his forehead fall on Malfoy's shoulder.

"My, my, Potter, tongue? How thrilling."

"You seemed to enjoy it well enough these last few weeks," Harry said, looking up at him.

"That's when I was carefully seducing a straight man," Malfoy retorted. "I was taking my time."

Harry's eyes narrowed. "You knew I was straight?"

"Of course. It was horribly obvious. Pansy and I even had a running bet about it."

Harry snorted. "A bet?"

"Yes," Malfoy replied, looking smug. "She bet me a share of the rent that I couldn't bed you within a month. Do you feel horribly pathetic and used now?"

Harry felt a spike of annoyance, but he swallowed it down. "After what I did, I've no right to judge."

Malfoy's lips pressed into a thin line. "Are you listening, Potter? I was only trying to get you into bed to settle a bet with Pansy. You're professing love and I'm telling you I don't care."

Harry smirked. "Don't flatter yourself, Malfoy. I don't love you. At the moment, I'm not even sure I like you. But I do know one thing." He leaned forward and pressed his palm against Malfoy's groin, finding his cock half-hard already. He stroked it through Malfoy's trousers, and it grew beneath his fingers. He was a bit bewildered by his own boldness, but it felt right. He knew he was right about this, about Malfoy. "This isn't just about a bet anymore. You want me."

"Fuck you," Malfoy retorted, though it wasn't terribly convincing.

Harry almost grinned. He unfastened the snap of Malfoy's trousers and pulled the zip down, then wrapped his fingers around Malfoy's cock. "Promise?"

Malfoy's only response was a sharp intake of breath.

Harry could hardly believe he was doing this, but it didn't seem strange. In fact, it felt rather exciting to be touching Malfoy like this, stroking his cock while he was bound to the door, unable to move or even resist. Malfoy's head fell back and he made a sound like a groan, and Harry felt more powerful than he'd ever felt with a wand in his hand. There wasn't magic to do something like this. Only people could make each other moan in ecstasy, and he was determined to hear more of it.

He spit into his hand to ease the friction, but he kept his strokes slow and long, the sort he used on himself when he wanted to take his time. Malfoy's prick was hard and leaking, and he bit his lip when Harry ran a thumb over the head to smear the fluid there.

Harry pulled Malfoy's head down for a rough kiss, which seemed to be met with enthusiasm. "I think you like this," Harry whispered against Malfoy's lips.

"You're pulling me off," Malfoy said in response. "Of course I like it."

"No, this," Harry said, releasing Malfoy's prick and stepping back. "You're bound to your own bedroom door, helpless and unable to stop me from doing whatever I want to do to you. And you like it."

Malfoy didn't answer: he just stared at Harry, his eyes unusually dark. His hair was mussed and he looked a bit uncomfortable with his limbs bound to the door. He was completely dressed, but his prick jutted out from his trousers almost comically.

Harry regarded him for a moment, wondering what to do next. He'd never done any of this before, and he wasn't sure he'd be good at it. But he might not get another chance. Even though he was sure Malfoy was lying about how he felt, it might not matter at the end of the night. Just because Malfoy wanted this didn't mean he would ever admit to it.

Harry clenched his jaw. He would worry about tomorrow in the morning.

He stepped forward again and kissed Malfoy, then unbuttoned his shirt slowly. He kissed and licked his way down Malfoy's chest, moving lower with every undone button, until he was circling Malfoy's navel with his tongue. He lowered himself to his knees after that, and looked up.

Malfoy was staring at him, his eyes blazing. Harry wasn't sure if it was from desire, anger, or surprise, but he decided not to ask.

He regarded Malfoy's cock for a moment as it bobbed before his face, and then closed his mouth around the head. Malfoy sucked in a breath at that, and Harry would have smiled if he could. It felt strange to have something this size in his mouth, and avoiding scraping his teeth against it was awkward -- but it wasn't as disturbing as he'd imagined it might be. He used his tongue and wrapped his fingers around the base to steady it, and then tried to mimic what Malfoy had done to him the night before.

He stopped when he thought Malfoy was getting close, and took the opportunity to work Malfoy's trousers down to his knees. When he turned his attention to Malfoy's cock again, he found a rhythm that Malfoy seemed to like.

At least, Harry assumed he liked it, as he'd not made much noise so far other than heavy breathing. After a moment he began to wonder if there was something he wasn't doing right.

"Don't you like having your cock sucked, Malfoy?" he said. He stared up at him and stroked the shaft slowly.

Malfoy looked down at him and didn't say anything.

"I'll bet you fantasized about this," Harry continued. "Me, on my knees, doing this." He paused to swallow Malfoy's cock once before coming off and gazing up at him.

"No," Malfoy said. "I didn't."

"Then what did you fantasize about?"

"Why should I tell you?"

Harry flicked his tongue over the head and then let go of Malfoy's cock. He stood and pressed against Malfoy, kissing a trail down his throat. "Because I won't let you come if you don't cooperate."

"Cooperate?" Malfoy repeated. His voice hitched a bit as Harry's tongue flicked across a nipple. "I'm stuck to the fucking door. It's not as if I have a choice."

Harry took the nipple between his teeth and tugged, just enough to see if Malfoy liked it. He gasped, and Harry released it. "Oh, but you do. You can consent to this, or not." He stood straight and stared at Malfoy. "That's your choice. If you want to go on pretending you're resisting, that's fine. I'm happy to play that game, but let's be honest about it. If I'm about to rape you, I'd at least like to know it."

"Would you stop if I asked?" Malfoy said.

"That depends on whether it was what you wanted." Harry tilted his head and watched Malfoy. "So tell me what you want."

Malfoy stared at him, so long that Harry wondered if he'd guessed correctly. He had no idea what he was doing, or even if he were going about this the right way. He was starting to wish he'd learnt Legilimancy after all.

Malfoy closed his eyes and dropped his head, and said in a whisper, "Are you sure this is what you want, Harry?"

Harry froze. "Sorry?"

Malfoy looked up again. "Are you playing a game with me, or do you mean it?"

Harry stared back, unable to keep the surprise from his face. "Why are you asking me this?"

Malfoy sighed. "I have no particular reason to trust you. I can get a quick fuck anytime I want, but this is different."

"Different how?"

"How many questions do you plan to ask before answering one of mine?"

Harry snorted. "Until two weeks ago, I thought I was straight. Do you really think I'd be here sucking you off if I weren't taking it seriously?"

"Another fucking question," Malfoy said.

"All right, fine," Harry replied, folding his arms over his chest. "It's not a game. I like you, and I'd like this to be about more than just sex. If that's not what you want, then I'll leave tomorrow morning and we won't speak of it again. Deal?"

"Deal," Malfoy replied, a bit more quickly than Harry would have liked.

Harry shook his head in mock annoyance. "Do you always talk this much before sex? I thought that was a girl thing."

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "Not necessarily."

"So, where were we?" Harry asked, placing his hands on either side of Malfoy's head and leaning in close enough to brush his lips against Malfoy's neck. "Ah, yes. I was asking you what you wanted." He felt Malfoy's lips against his ear, and it made him shiver.

"What I really want?" Malfoy whispered.

Harry swallowed, steeling himself for something truly bizarre. Or painful. Or both. "Will you get on with it, please?"

Malfoy's tongue traced the shell of Harry's ear, and it was all Harry could do not to whimper at the sensation. "I want you to fuck me."

Harry looked up, not sure he'd heard that correctly. "What?"

"Please," Malfoy said. He caught Harry's lips in a kiss, and it was another minute before they came up for air. "That's what I fantasized about," Malfoy whispered against Harry's lips. "You fucking me. Your cock inside m--"

Harry cut him off with another kiss, his head spinning. He hadn't expected that, for some reason. He'd spent a good part of the afternoon trying to talk himself into being on bottom, and it hadn't occurred to him that it might be the other way around.

"Here?" he gasped when they broke the kiss. He couldn't quite wrap his brain around the gymnastics required to do it with Malfoy bound to the door.

"I'd prefer to be on the bed," Malfoy replied. Harry's eyes narrowed, and Malfoy groaned. "Oh, come on, aren't we past that part?" His gaze seemed to drift for a moment and he whispered a word, and the binds Harry had cast fell away. He shrugged, rubbing at his wrists. "I could always escape. I just didn't want to."

Harry couldn't help but chuckle at that, and Malfoy grinned back. He stepped out of his trousers, and then caught Harry's wrist and tugged him toward the bed.

"So how should we do this? Mmm, with you on your back, I think." Malfoy turned them and pressed Harry back against the bed.

"Wouldn't it help if I undressed?" Harry quipped, reaching down to unfasten his trousers.

"If you like," Malfoy replied. He helped tug Harry's trousers off, almost pulling him off the bed in the process.

A minute later, they were both undressed, and Malfoy was straddling Harry's hips. He'd summoned a tube of something Harry assumed was lubricant, and he was doing something to himself that Harry couldn't see. He then wrapped a slick hand around Harry's cock and stroked, and Harry sighed at the sensation.

"Ready?" Malfoy said, moving forward a bit so that Harry's cock was behind him.

"Just like that?" Harry asked. "With no foreplay or anything?"

Malfoy raised an eyebrow. "I thought that was a girl thing."

"Not necessarily," Harry replied with a grin.

And then he felt Malfoy position the head of his cock against his body, and he began to sink. Harry's first thought was that it felt tight, almost impossibly so. Malfoy's face looked a bit tense, and Harry wondered if it hurt. Malfoy kept moving though, sliding down bit by bit, and after what seemed to be a full minute, Harry's cock was completely engulfed.

Malfoy sighed and closed his eyes, and didn't say anything. Harry bit his lip, wondering how long he'd have to wait. The urge to move to nearly overwhelming, but he didn't exactly know how it was done.

"Well?" Malfoy asked, opening his eyes again.

"I hope there's more to it than that," Harry remarked. "Otherwise I don't see how--" His comment was cut off by Malfoy rising up and sitting down again, tight muscles gripping Harry's cock in an incredibly pleasant way. "Oh, fuck."

"That's the idea," Malfoy said.

The rhythm Malfoy established was nice for a while, and then Harry wanted to move faster, so he thrust up from the bottom while Malfoy braced himself on Harry's knees. They swapped positions soon after that, with Malfoy on his back with his knees pressed into his chest, and Harry pounding into him. It was much rougher than Harry had ever been with a woman. He worried he might be hurting Malfoy, but the sounds Malfoy was making seemed to indicate otherwise.

Harry shifted his position a bit, and Malfoy groaned and reached between them to pull at his own prick, mumbling, "Like-that-like-that-like -- oh god!"

Harry tried to keep doing exactly what he was doing, but it felt really good for him as well, and he found himself getting close. "I'm sorry," he whispered, squeezing his eyes shut in an effort to concentrate. "I don't think I can--"

"It's okay," Malfoy said, looking up at him.

That was all it took for Harry to come. He felt himself spilling into Malfoy, and he gritted his teeth to keep himself from saying something stupid. It was long and intense, and he collapsed onto Malfoy afterward, panting.

"Is it always like this with you?" he asked. "I come so hard I can't see straight afterwards."

Malfoy laughed. "Oh, yes, Harry. That's my specialty."

Harry shifted enough to pull out, and before he could begin to worry about they mess they'd made, he felt a tingle of magic. He started to say something, but decided discretion was probably better for the time being. Instead, he slid down the bed until he was lying between Malfoy's thighs.

"I suppose I should finish what I started?" he asked, then licked a stripe up Malfoy's shaft.

"It won't take long," Malfoy replied with a sigh.

It didn't take long -- Harry had only just found a rhythm when Malfoy groaned and stuttered a warning. Harry finished him with his hand, not quite comfortable with the other option yet. Malfoy didn't seem to mind, though. He was completely incoherent when he came, and Harry wondered if he'd intentionally held back as well. Harry smiled and kissed the inside of Malfoy's thigh.

"Mmmm," Malfoy said at last. "Come here."

Harry crawled up Malfoy's body and into his open arms. "Oh, you're a cuddler, are you?"

"No," Malfoy replied, but he wrapped his arms around Harry anyway.

Harry bit back the sarcastic comment on the tip of his tongue. Instead, he smiled into Malfoy's shoulder, and as the duvet settled itself over them, he thought he just might be able to get used to this.

~*~

When Harry opened his eyes, he wasn't quite sure where he was at first. Dim light filtered through the windows, but it was coming from the wrong direction. The ceiling looked different. And--

"Oh," he mouthed, as the events of the night before washed over him. He turned his head slowly and saw that Malfoy was still asleep. Harry stared at the ceiling again.

This was the uncomfortable part. Would Malfoy be cool toward him this morning? Would they be able to look at each other after what had happened between them? Harry closed his eyes and sighed.

He managed to edge out of bed without disturbing Malfoy, and crept across the room to the closed door. Clothes were strewn about the floor, and he found a pair of trousers to pull on. They seemed to be Malfoy's, as they were a bit long for him, but he didn't care. The flat was quiet and dim as he made his way to the toilet. He splashed some water on his face and rinsed his mouth out, then stared at his reflection in the mirror.

"Is this what you want?" he whispered. He'd been unsatisfied with every relationship he'd had as an adult, and there was no reason to think this one would be any different. The novelty of it being with a man was bound to wear off sooner or later and he'd be right back where he always was -- dealing with a person who was just as flawed as he was.

But if he didn't give it an honest try, he would always regret it. It had been a long time since he'd felt fluttery and nervous around someone, since he'd wanted so badly for someone to like him and to find him attractive. Since someone had wanted him for something other than the man he used to be.

He didn't know if Malfoy was that person, but he really wanted to find out.

He emerged from the toilet to find Pansy sitting on the sofa dressed in a robe, a hot water bottle pressed to her forehead. He didn't know if she'd been sitting there when he passed before or not.

"Good morning," he said.

"Is it?" she quipped. "For you, perhaps." She reached for a large bottle of McCracken's Original Recipe Hangover Potion sitting on the sofa table and took a swig.

Harry smiled. "That stuff only works for alcohol, you know. It won't do you any good."

She frowned at the label. "Pity you didn't tell me that before I'd drunk half the bottle." She set it aside with a groan and slumped back against the sofa cushions. "I don't suppose you could put me out of my misery?"

"You've got a long week ahead of you," Harry replied. "And I think you earned it."

She groaned. "Oh, god. What did I do?"

"You don't remember?" She shook her head, and Harry sighed. "Well, I suppose it doesn't matter now."

"That bad?" She shifted the hot water bottle to the other side of her head. "So you slept here last night, then?"

"Yes," Harry replied.

"And considering that those are Draco's trousers, I assume it went well?"

Harry shrugged. "He won, didn't he?"

"Won?" she asked, and then looked a bit uncomfortable as the realization set in. "He told you about that?"

"Yes," Harry said. "But it's all right. It's not any worse than anything I've done."

Pansy sighed and put the hot water bottle on the sofa table. "I already knew I'd lost when I met you for lunch last week. I could see the effect you'd had on him, and I wanted to know if you were serious about him. He likes you."

Harry snorted. "He has a bit of difficulty saying so."

Pansy smiled. "That he does."

They stared at each other for a moment, and Harry wondered if he should confess to her what his original intentions had been. Honesty wasn't always best, though -- it might do more harm than good.

Malfoy's door clicked open and he emerged, yawning and wearing only a pair of dark-colored boxers. "Do you always get up this early?" he asked.

Harry smiled. "On workdays."

"Neither of us is working today, are we?" Malfoy replied. He headed towards the toilet, staggering a bit, as if he weren't quite awake yet.

"He's such a treasure in the morning," Pansy quipped. "You're best off not speaking to him until noon."

Harry grinned. "That makes two of us."

"He doesn't deserve you, you know," she said, her voice quiet. "He can be quite a bastard. He's selfish and crude, and vindictive at times." She paused. "But I adore him, and I want to see him happy."

"What about you?" Harry asked. "Don't you deserve to be happy?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. I seem doomed to repeat my mother's mistakes. Have any single friends who aren't gay?"

Harry smiled. "As a matter of fact, I do."

She sighed and massaged her temples. "Put in a good word for me, won't you?"

When Malfoy came out again, he wrapped his arms around Harry from behind and rested his chin on Harry's shoulder. It was such an intimate gesture that Harry couldn't help being surprised by it. He looked over at Pansy to see that she was beaming at them, despite her headache.

"It's too early to be standing," Malfoy groaned. "Come back to bed." With that, he released Harry and headed back toward his bedroom.

Harry winked at Pansy and followed him.

"I'll just be here on the sofa," she called after them. "Suffering horribly."

Malfoy climbed back into bed and looked like he might actually go back to sleep. Harry stripped off the trousers and settled next to him, watching him. He looked odd like this: tousled and scruffy, and not the sleek playboy he usually seemed. Harry liked it.

"Why are you staring at me?" Malfoy asked, opening his eyes. "It's making me paranoid."

"I'm not staring," Harry replied, and worked his hand under the duvet and down Malfoy's body until he found what he was looking for.

Malfoy closed his eyes. "For a straight boy, you've certainly caught on quick."

Harry kissed him, and they turned to face each other. Malfoy pressed their cocks together, and they each took turns stroking them together, going slowly. It was nice, and completely different from what they'd done the night before. After a while, Malfoy fumbled for the lube and they sped up the pace. Harry liked the feeling of Malfoy's cock against his and the pressure of his fingers, tight in places his own hand usually wasn't.

They came within a minute of each other, and the casualness of it seemed remarkable to Harry. Sex with women had always seemed more stressful, less like fun and more like work. But with Malfoy, he felt comfortable.

He had a flash of panic and had to close his eyes -- what if this was just sex for Malfoy after all? He knew better than to let himself feel anything. It always ended badly when he did.

"Seeing as neither of us has anything to do today," Malfoy said, yawning again, "want to have a bit of a lie in?"

"Yeah," Harry replied, trying to sound casual. "Sure."

"Maybe we can get some take-away tonight," Malfoy continued, draping one arm across Harry's chest. "I don't think Pansy is up to going out for a while. What did she take, anyway?"

"M," Harry said. "Quite a lot, I think."

Malfoy sighed. "She needs to get a life." He paused, then popped his head up to look at Harry. "Do you know anyone we could set her up with?"

Harry smiled. "Possibly."

Malfoy settled down again, snuggling into Harry's shoulder. "Good. Maybe if I get her laid, she'll let me freeload off of her for a while."

Harry took a deep breath. "So we're going to give this a shot, then?" He felt stupid almost immediately, but he was driving himself crazy thinking about it. If they didn't talk about it soon, he didn't think he could bear it much longer.

Malfoy's eyes were closed, but he smiled. "Yes, Harry. We're going to do just that."

Harry exhaled and closed his eyes. That was a good enough answer for now.

~*~

Epilogue

"Are you ready?" Harry asked, poking his head into the bathroom.

"You're making me nervous, you know," Draco retorted, running his fingers through his hair. "I wasn't anxious about this at all until you started in."

"Sorry," Harry replied. "It's just that I really want this to work out for you. I want to help."

Draco turned to face him. "You've already helped me quite a lot."

Harry leaned against the doorway and smiled. "You know I like having you here."

"And I like paying my share of the rent in blow jobs," Draco quipped. "But that's hardly a viable career." Harry's witty retort was cut off by a look of annoyance from Draco. "Spare me the rentboy jokes, for once. I'm serious -- if you hadn't got my records unclassified, I wouldn't be interviewing for this position at all, would I? So thank you, for the hundredth time. And if you rub it in my face again, I'll hex you."

"I'm not rubbing it in," Harry replied.

"Yes, you are. Do shut up about it."

"How about this, then," Harry said, stepping into the room and pressing Draco up against the sink. "If you get the job, you'll get a lovely reward."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "How lovely?"

Harry smirked. "More lovely than you can imagine."

Draco grinned. "I dunno. I can imagine quite a lot."

Harry kissed him. "I love it when you quote Star Wars."

"I know," Draco replied, shoving him away. "You're such a geek."

"Don't forget, we're meeting everyone at eight," Harry said as Draco pushed past him into the bedroom.

"So looking forward to it," Draco mumbled. "If I have to endure another evening of Pansy and Weasley staring into each other's eyes, I'll be quite cross."

"Is it any worse than Neville and Louis?" Harry retorted, though he privately agreed.

"No comment," Draco replied, turning to face Harry. "How do I look?"

"Good enough to eat," Harry said. The sight of Draco in business robes was oddly erotic. He grinned and tugged Draco toward him, then reached down to unfasten his trousers.

"Is that all you think about?" Draco said, rolling his eyes.

But Draco was already getting hard, and by the time Harry dropped to his knees and freed his cock, he was undeniably aroused.

"Just don't get anything on my robes," he said as Harry's tongue flicked across the tip. "And make it quick, or I'll be late."

Harry looked up at him. "I'm about to suck your dick and you're complaining?"

Draco groaned. "I'm nervous as fuck, and I can't believe you're thinking about sex at a time like this."

"I always think about sex," Harry retorted. "Besides, you need to relax."

"God you're good at that," Draco said, closing his eyes as Harry sucked him in. "Oh yeah, that's…" His hand clenched Harry's hair and pushed his head forward ever so slightly. "Oh my god, just like that."

It only took three minutes, which was a record, considering that Draco prided himself on being able to last a long time. He pulled Harry up and kissed him, groaning at the taste of himself on Harry's tongue.

"I love you," Draco whispered against Harry's lips.

It was the first time he'd said it, and Harry was left speechless for a moment. Finally, he smiled and said, "I know."

~*~

fin