salixbabylon | Fic: Sexy Slytherin Dragon (1/1)

Title: Sexy Slytherin Dragon
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Author:

salixbabylon
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 6418
Disclaimer: Characters and places in this story, which appear in the Harry Potter novels, belong to JK Rowling, Bloomsbury, Warner Bros. and Scholastic. I don't make, or intend to make money out of them. They just amuse me endlessly.

Summary: In which Harry places a personals ad and the Sexy Slytherin Dragon responds.

Notes: From the "sly" prompt for the 28-fics-meme (30 actually) for

willowwing, who asked for "extra long, please" and graciously allowed me to take a couple extra months when it spawned an actual plot. And to

sarka for the encouragement and beta! *smooch*

Read it translated into Spanish and illustrated by Mina-san!

Sexy Slytherin Dragon

Harry had been sitting at his desk, the slow scratch, scratch, scratch of quill on parchment punctuated by deep sighs and, Draco noted, frowns and lip-biting. Draco had given up trying not to stare at Harry while they worked, although he was careful to do it out of the corners of his eyes. They'd shared an office for about five months now, in a private security/curse-breaking firm. It was headed up by Bill Wesley and staffed mostly by other disillusioned young people who had been (or had wanted to be) Aurors but now refused to work for the post-War Ministry.

The other three wizards who shared office space with Draco and Harry were currently out and Draco found himself with ample time to do some covert staring. Harry-watching was a hobby he had always been good at, but working together in close quarters for over a year had sharpened his talents.

Harry seemed nervous, a slight redness tingeing his cheekbones, arm curled protectively around the parchment as if he was back in school and afraid someone was going to read it over his shoulder. He dipped his quill, wrote a few words, paused, scratched them out, started over, paused... Finally he sighed, shook his head, quickly wrote several lines, rolled up the parchment and sealed it. With wax and a spell. Harry walked over to the outgoing mailbag in a way that might have seemed nonchalant to anyone who hadn't been watching him for the last fifteen minutes, and dropped the scroll in.

Returning to his desk, Harry's eyes widened as he scooped up the Quibbler that he'd been glancing at while he wrote his letter and tossed it into the bin with what would have been a casual gesture if it hadn't been so obvious. He was such a terrible actor.

Curious.

While Harry stepped out to the loo or to get tea or whatever, Draco rifled through the mail bag. Two scrolls in Harry's writing – one to the Quibbler, one to Lupin. The one to the werewolf was down at the bottom. And lacking spell-protection.

Curiouser.

Draco slipped the parchment into his pocket and hurried to the loo. Good thing the idiots at the Quibbler wouldn't notice or care if their post had been tampered with.

Wizards Seeking Wizards:

I am straight, or bi curious, whatever correct terminology is. I've been thinking about men lately and haven't made the next step and want to take it slow and safe. I'm fairly fit but not too tall, I suppose some think I'm handsome - brown hair, green eyes. I've been wondering what it would be like to be with a bloke, but I need someone who is willing to be patient and go VERY slowly, as I am both nervous and excited about this. We would have to be friends first, and you have to be ok with just conversations while I try to sort myself out.

Anyway, if you are interested, please owl your description, tell me about yourself and describe what our encounter would be like. If you pressure me for sex I'll hex your bollocks off. Thanks.

The appropriate form for placing the personals advert and a slip of paper directing the Quibbler to deduct payment from Sirius Black's Gringott's account (Draco snorted – very subtle, Potter) were also included.

Draco's face actually hurt from the size of his grin. Un-bloody-believable. Years of teasing and flirting with Harry had finally cracked the Pure, Straight, Totally Heterosexual Hero and Harry was considering Seeking for the other team. Brilliant.

Of course the advertisement wasn't going to make it to the Quibbler, Draco thought, fist starting to crumple the paper. But then Harry might notice if it wasn't printed. Well, it would be no trouble to let the advert run and simply intercept all the replies.

Draco returned to the office, placed the post back into the outgoing pile, and wandered past Harry's still-empty desk to the bookshelves. Time to freshen up on his Glamour Charms.

*****

There had been a lot more replies than Draco expected; it seemed every queer wizard in Britain wanted a crack at the insecure-but-defensive twink Harry had presented in his personals ad. No matter. He Incendio-ed each one as it arrived so that only one reply actually found its way to Harry's desk.

Dear S.O.B.C. (Straight Or Bi-Curious),

I found your listing in the Quibbler's last issue most intriguing. While I can't guarantee that I'm what you're looking for, I'd not be adverse to having a few conversations while you make that decision. I find something very attractive about assisting another in exploring his sexuality and I can guarantee you no pressure on my part should you decide that neither I, nor males in general, are to your liking.

I am in my early twenties, come from an affluent family, and play Quidditch regularly with a team from my office. I am not terribly tall either and tend more towards lean than overly-muscled. I've a fair complexion and have never had any complaints about my looks. At all.

My suggested "encounter," as you say, would be to meet somewhere casual and relaxed – perhaps a stroll in a park. The public setting should provide a feeling of comfort and safety. We can talk for a while, and if you like, perhaps have a drink after. I promise I won't even try to kiss you – all physical interactions will be totally in your hands, until you request otherwise.

I eagerly anticipate your reply,

S.S.D.

*****

Another round of owls (sent through the Quibbler's owl-post, of course) and they had a lunch date. They'd agreed on a certain bench in Regents Park, by the small lake adjacent the rose gardens. Draco had suggested it because he knew Harry liked to look at the swans and ducks, and it would make a favorable impression on him that S.S.D. (Sexy Slytherin Dragon) would suggest the place.

Of course he couldn't show up looking like himself, so he took the morning off to shop and play with his appearance. He settled for a combination of charms that turned his hair a common sandy-brownish-blond in a shorter style, made his eyes blue, and softened the angles of his jaw and cheekbones. He looked like a distant Malfoy cousin who hadn't done so well in the genetic lottery but was still more attractive than the average wizard on the street. He put on the Muggle clothing he'd bought, spelling the shirt to match the blue of his eyes exactly. He remembered at the last minute to remove his signet ring and dragon earring, and Transfigured his pocket watch into a normal Muggle-style wristwatch that one would have to look at very closely indeed to realize was pointing at a tiny spot that read "date with Harry Potter."

His reflection rolled his eyes. "Never thought you'd be attempting to look less pretty, but I suppose it's not too awful," the mirror conceded.

Draco waited in the park, resisting the urge to fidget or to hex any of the ducks that quacked at him as the minutes ticked by. Harry was habitually late, but still. S.S.D. wouldn't know that yet and Draco was getting worried.

Finally, ten minutes past the hour, Harry rushed up but then hesitated as he got a good look at the stranger sitting before him. He seemed disconcerted, fiddled with the sleeve where his wand was hidden, then sat down. "Uh, are you, er, S.S.D.?"

The smile that crept over Draco's borrowed face felt odd. "I am. You must be S.O.B.C. You'll pardon me for also noticing that you're Harry Potter. May I call you Harry?" he asked politely.

He got an affirmative nod as Harry looked him over, squinting a bit as he examined Draco's face. "What shall I call you, then? And are you going to rush out and tell all the papers, after this?"

Draco shook his head. No wonder Harry was so uptight, if that was the first thing he thought of every time a stranger chatted him up. "No, I plan to stay as far away from the press as I can. I'm Daniel," he answered, holding out his hand.

They shook, Harry's hand hesitant and moist with nerves, then sat next to each other in silence.

"So," Draco started, "You placed an advert in the Quibbler. You've dated several girls and now you're thinking about men. May I ask why?"

Harry licked his lips. Draco bit his own in response, trying not to think of that pink tongue licking his body, while Harry answered.

"Well, I like girls. But, uh, sometimes I just wonder, you know?" He paused for a moment, looking at the swans. "I've had a few friends that I think maybe I, um, fancied a bit. But it took me a while to realize it. So I don't know," he shrugged.

"Hmm..." Draco mused. "Would you like to hear about the first crush I had? Compare notes to your own?"

They fell into an easy conversation, Draco relaying his first crush on one of the Ravenclaw Chasers two years ahead of him, without any identifying details. Harry's confessions came more easily as they chatted. Draco listened more than he talked, for once, letting Harry explore his own thoughts, asking questions every now and then but not probing.

Mostly they sat side by side, Draco in a casual, easy pose, watching Harry but trying not to stare, which he figured was a normal response to The Boy Who Grew Up To Be Surprisingly Hot. Harry's gaze was fixed on the lake, tense and uneasy but starting to relax as he became more comfortable with their conversation.

When Harry's stomach growled Draco suggested they lunch at the cafe nearby. Their conversation continued over food and Harry let down his guard enough for a couple of pints while they discussed which famous blokes they found attractive – Quiddich players mostly but a few Muggle actors and musicians as well. By the end of the hour they were joking and laughing and Draco was pleased that Harry even seemed to be trying to flirt. He was a bit pathetic at it, really, but at least he was making the effort and Draco did his part by not laughing outright at Harry's obvious hints that he'd like to get together again.

As they got up to leave the cafe, Harry's eyes lingered rather obviously on the front of Draco's trousers. He smirked. "Hey, eyes up here, Potter. Unless you like what you see?"

Flushing, Harry got to his feet. He wobbled a bit, unused to even mild alcohol mid-day, and leaned in close. "I rather think I might. Is that ok?" he asked in a charmingly innocent voice.

Draco grinned and licked his lips, watching as Harry's eyes followed the movement of his tongue. "More than all right with me," he said, reaching out to stroke his thumb across Harry's cheekbone. "But it's your game, Harry. You set the pace, yeah? I wouldn't want to be hexed," he winked.

Harry nodded, taking "Daniel's" hand and pulling him close. "A bit public here to do much, but can I, uh, kiss you...?" he mumbled.

Having fully checked out the area earlier, just in case, Draco led them to a secluded little copse of willows not far from the pond. It was not entirely hidden from view and nowhere near private enough for anything truly illicit, but Draco didn't want to go that far just yet anyhow. He'd be shocked if Potter did, either, although he was a bit surprised at how forward Harry was being. And with a complete stranger, too. Well, either Harry was a total slag or S.S.D. was more irresistible than he'd realized. Draco knew which one he thought more likely.

After the initial awkwardness of noses bumping and Harry's obvious attack of nerves at embracing someone taller than he was, their lips finally met. It was a sloppy, tense kiss, and Draco was more than a touch disappointed. He pushed Harry away gently. "Let me?" he suggested, and at his nod, traded places so Harry was the one leaning with his back against the trunk of the tree.

He moved in slowly, holding eye contact and giving Harry time to get used to the feeling, pressing their bodies together, touching at the knees, thighs, groins, chests. He let his eyes fall closed and turned his face, pressing their cheeks together, savoring the slight prickle of Harry's stubble. Draco heard Harry take in a deep breath, almost certainly scenting his cologne, and paused to let him adjust to it, to all the differences of embracing a man rather than a woman. Only after he felt the tension leave the body under his did Draco turn his face and let their lips brush against each other.

This time it was Incendiary. Harry's hands clutched Draco's shoulders, tugging him closer as their mouths explored each other. The leisurely pace Draco had hoped to set was overwhelmed by a raw hunger that was as startling as it was undeniable. Trying to be passive and not to frighten Harry off with the force of his response, Draco let his mouth be taken, consumed, ravished in a manner straight out of the Robe-Ripper paperbacks that he'd never admit to reading. He felt shockingly overwhelmed, unable to recall feeling so out of control from just a snog since Hogwarts.

Draco moaned as Harry pulled back to take a much-needed breath, then dove in for another kiss as if their lips being parted was painful. He couldn't stop himself from pressing closer, tugging Harry's hips and grinding their erections together, rubbing against that delicious hard cock, all the more wondrous because this was Harry Potter.

At last.

While Draco noted his lack of control even while losing it, Harry seemed to have abandoned all restraint as if this was his usual modus operandi. He was grasping and licking and moaning and writhing as if he'd never had sex before and had been saving it up for years. As if he'd found the one thing in the world that turned him on, after a very long search, and now he was never going to let Draco go.

No – "Daniel."

Fuck.

Sighing, Draco gently pulled back, delighted at how eager Potter was, the way he trembled, the way his gasps for breath took forever to calm, the way his insistent erection jerked against Draco's. And disgusted and frustrated that this was "Daniel", S.S.D., that Harry was snogging so enthusiastically. Not Draco.

Bloody fucking hell, he thought, mentally kicking himself as they disentangled, both self-conscious at their unexpected eagerness and exchanging looks that were equal parts bashful and lustful as they made plans for another date in two days. No point in being too easy; playing hard to get was one of Draco's trademarks and he had a prior engagement with Severus for dinner tomorrow regardless.

He was surprised when Harry kissed him again, a quick, blushing peck as they parted, and then ran off grinning like a fool. Draco ignored that he, too, was grinning rather foolishly. Their lunch date had gone far better than expected.

Now he just had to figure out how on earth he was going to reveal himself without Harry AK-ing him.

*****

Draco Apparated to his flat to undo the Glamours, then popped back to the office knowing he would be there before Harry, who always took a bit of a stroll back after his lunch break. Sure enough, Draco had been getting things done for about a quarter of an hour when Harry wandered in, a slight smile gracing his still-swollen lips and a far-away expression in his eyes.

Draco suppressed the urge to attack Potter and snog him senseless again and instead slid into his usual repartee. He whistled. "Well, no need to ask what you spent your lunchtime doing. Who is the lucky witch?"

Harry blushed, turned around, and disappeared towards the loo. A few minutes later he returned looking mostly normal, with a slight tingle of magic hovering around him that betrayed the healing spells he'd cast.

"So who was she, Potter?"

Harry shrugged, evading his probing as usual. "Just someone. Nothing to get excited about yet."

Draco leered. "Looks like you managed to get a bit excited, though. Whoever she is, she must be pretty easy. Unless you've been dating someone for a while and holding out on me?"

Usually their bickering and teasing and even Draco's flirting was relaxed and easy. Today, though, Harry seemed uncomfortable. Edgy.

"Nothing I haven't told you," Harry said, trying to be nonchalant.

"Looks like she was a bit more aggressive than your usual wide-eyed cows," Draco pressed. "Sure you can handle her?"

Harry nodded, then shrugged. "Yeah, I think I can handle, um, her."

Delighted, Draco jumped on the hesitation. "Potter, you're having gender pronoun confusion. Something you want to tell me?"

A lovely bright red flush stained Harry's ears. He shuffled some scrolls on his desk and said nothing.

Well. Usually Harry quickly refuted any suggestions Draco made that the Wizarding World's Most Eligible Bachelor might prefer playing with another wizard's wand than having a witch ride his broomstick. He wasn't rude about it (or as crude as Draco) but never let it stand that he might be anything other than wholly heterosexual.

Ignoring it was new.

Draco ran his fingers through his hair, got up from his desk, and sauntered over to perch one hip on the corner of Harry's. "I'd be more than happy to assist in your exploration of the superior sex," he drawled, emphasizing the last two words.

Harry swallowed. "I, uh. I think I've got things covered on my own," he answered, not lifting his eyes from the parchments spread in front of him.

"Oh come on, Potter. Let me take you out, dress you up, show you off to the swish-and-flick set. I promise not to let any Dark wizards molest you... Unless they offer me a lot of money. Or power. Or let me watch... I bet I could make a bundle on your virgin arse. Maybe I should have an auction... Got any charities you favor?"

Harry looked up slowly, glaring. "Get away from me." A smile teased at his eyes, softening the words to their usual banter.

"Fine. You'll want my guidance someday, though. At least with your wardrobe. I abdicate any responsibility for that hair, though - it's cursed. I think Voldemort damaged it along with your forehead."

At that, Draco got a laugh. Satisfied, he went back to his own desk and they managed to put in a collectively productive afternoon, despite Harry's persistent refusals to let Draco take him out to the gay Wizarding quarter or even to Soho.

*****

A familiar owl, quite famous in her own right for having pecked out the eyes of Walden McNair, was waiting at Draco's flat that evening. A moment of nervousness washed over him before he remembered that even if Hedwig knew what the letters she was delivering contained, it wasn't like she could tell Harry that his new friend was actually Draco.

Daniel,

I know we agreed to see each other on Saturday, but I couldn't wait. I wanted to apologize for my ~~forwardness~~ ~~attacking you~~ ~~slutty behavior~~ maybe giving you the wrong impression. Well, it may have been the right impression, but still. I guess I'm trying to say that my response to kissing you was a lot more than I expected and while I definitely liked it (as I'm sure you noticed), I still don't want to just jump into bed. Although I'm sure it would be good - you kiss better than, well, anyone else, ever.

Anyway, the restaurant you suggested – what should I wear? I've never had the guts (or incentive) to check out the queer part of Diagon Alley. Are you sure you can keep us out of the Prophet? I'm not ashamed, just want to be sure this is really for me before I willingly get raked over the coals again. Nevermind – I trust you, I guess I'm just nervous. Just tell me what to wear.

7:30 PM, right? And where should we meet?

-HP

Hedwig waited while Draco wrote his reply:

Harry,

Business first: meet me at Ollivander's at 7:30 PM, Saturday and we can walk over from there. If you start to feel uncomfortable or see anyone who looks like they've got a camera pointed at you, we can come up with an alternate plan.

Wear whatever you feel comfortable in, within reason. Nice trousers or jeans would be fine with a button-down, but leave the trainers at home. Relax - even when you look like hell, you still look edible.

I hope that me writing that doesn't make you uncomfortable, but you already know I'm attracted to you. Getting back to clothes - green brings out your eyes, but you look nice in more muted colors as well, including silver. Don't be afraid of a little flash; I promise it won't make you a poof.

Finally, as to your last point: Harry, please. I know this is new for you. I admit I was a little surprised at your enthusiasm but it was a brilliant snog and I'm willing to wait for more. As promised, I'll let you set the pace and you should feel free to call stop or time out whenever you feel uncomfortable.

Looking forward to Saturday,

-DM

*****

This time Harry was only a few minutes late, although Draco-disguised-as-Daniel had been waiting outside Ollivander's for a while, amusing himself as he speculated what sort of wand various acquaintances had and considered purchasing a new wand-stand which would better compliment his bedroom decor.

Harry gave him an odd look when he arrived: a bit fretful (probably due to being late), curiously blank (in the same way as when he was trying to seem innocent), and slightly amused (like when he caught Draco stealing Chocoballs from the jar on his desk). Odd.

After a quick greeting and check for photographers, they made their way down the little side street, Festive Alley. The restaurant Draco had chosen, Urban Licks, was crowded and loud but a few Galleons secured them a quiet spot in the corner. He'd made a reservation, of course, but like a git he'd made it in his real name and so couldn't claim it.

A waiter brought them their wine, something suitably obscure and French, which Draco had ordered after a brief consultation with Harry. He was just noticing how the subtle red of Harry's shirt gave his cheeks some color when Harry asked him a question that almost made him knock over his glass.

"I noticed that you signed your last letter 'DM.' I forgot to ask; what's your last name?"

"Uh, it's um, Malllll... vey," Draco said, thinking fast and smiling brilliantly to cover up his blunder. "Daniel Malvey."

Harry gave him an oddly penetrating stare. "Daniel Malvey. Huh."

The timely arrival of the waiter to take their order saved Draco, and after that their conversation was relaxed and enjoyable. After dinner, Harry agreed to go along to one of the nightclubs, but only if "Daniel" understood that he was a terrible dancer and absolutely refused to embarrass himself in such a manner, at least until the next date. Grinning at the knowledge that Harry wanted to go out with him again, Draco accepted the condition and they headed over to the End Up.

After a couple of drinks the steady throb of music began to have its usual effect on Draco. His hips swayed, his shoulders twitched, and his eyes sparkled flirtatiously. He wanted to dance. He wanted to fuck, too, but he'd settle for a dance.

Harry was firm though (Draco licked his lips just thinking the pun), but encouraged Draco to go on and dance anyway while Harry stood at the railing on the second level and watched. A delicious shiver went down Draco's spine at the thought of Harry watching, and his cock throbbed in time with the music as well.

He'd worn a silvery-blue shirt that seemed understated in normal lighting but sparkled flamboyantly under the disco lighting. He took a moment to let the rhythm overwhelm him, pressing through the crush of bodies. Settling into his spot (in the center, of course), he opened his eyes and sought out Harry. Right enough, he was sipping a pint and watching Draco, and if Draco wasn't mistaken, there was more than just a shadow of lust in his eyes. Winking, Draco turned around, letting Harry get a full look at the rear view. He shook his arse, turned around, winked, and set about seducing Harry from a distance.

Draco must have been giving off Veela-pheromones or something because every wizard on the dance floor was not only leering at him but trying to cop a feel. Apparently "Daniel" looked more approachable than Draco ever did with his normal face on and he was going to have to start cursing the bastards if they didn't back off.

Just as Draco was about to lose his temper and go for his wand, a pair of hands (another!) settled firmly on his hips as a familiar voice murmured in his ear, "Can't let these arseholes think you're here all alone, can I?"

Draco gladly pressed back against Harry's body, encouraging him to pick up the rhythm, but not demanding. "My hero," he chuckled. Harry stiffened behind him but Draco grabbed his hands before he could move away. "Stay? Please? I didn't mean it like that, you know." A moment or two later and the tension drained out of Harry's body. He pressed closer, letting Draco do all of the moving, just following along as their movements grew more sinuous and sultry. Harry's thighs pressed firm against Draco's bum felt heavenly. There was no pretending he wasn't getting aroused when Harry nuzzled the back of his neck, gentle kisses and licks sending shockwaves directly to Draco's groin.

Opening his eyes from where they'd fallen shut in a haze of arousal, Draco turned in Harry's embrace. "Let's get out of here," he suggested, and at Harry's nod led them off the dance floor to the shadowed alcoves.

He'd been thinking to catch his breath and calm down, but apparently Harry had other ideas and Draco found himself being shoved forcefully against the back wall and kissed to within in an inch of his life. Harry's lips were demanding and hungry and Draco's arousal kicked up several notches at the unmistakable feeling of Harry's hard cock pressed against his.

It was too much to ask that Draco not respond to such an aggressive, devouring kiss. Reaching for Harry's waist, he groaned, pulling them closer together and grinding until Harry was as breathless as he was. By the time Harry pulled back, he was panting audibly. Looking Draco right in the eye, he slid his hand down from Draco's hips to press against his erection.

Draco instinctively pushed forward into Harry's hand, reveling in the much-needed pressure, but then somehow miraculously got a hold of himself. Their eyes still locked, he mirrored Harry's move until he had a handful of Wizarding Hero himself, thrilled at the way Harry's eyes glazed over and head tilted back as he thrust into Draco's palm.

He let go after a moment and walked his fingers up to the button on Harry's trousers. Draco waited until Harry opened his eyes again, even though he wanted to rip Harry's clothes off and just take. At the nod he was hoping for, a ball of tension released in his stomach. He quickly reversed their positions so that Harry was more in the shadows and leaning against the wall, because by Circe, Harry was going to need it.

It wasn't the best hand-job Draco had ever given, certainly; no fumbled experience up against a wall in a club could ever be perfect, but it was still bloody good as far as Draco could tell. It was too dark to actually see Harry's cock, which was a disappointment, but the way it felt in his hand was simply brilliant. Harry's response surprised him as well; he'd always thought straight boys were more inhibited but Harry seemed bent on proving him wrong. He all but collapsed against the wall, thrusting into Draco's hands to the pulsing beat surrounding them, eyes mostly closed, licking his lips, both hands clutching Draco's hips.

As his hands slid up and down Harry's cock, Draco added a wicked twist at the top, letting his palm glide over the smooth head, picking up the moisture there and bringing it back down. The noises Harry was making changed to a higher pitch and his eyes squeezed shut as his whole body tensed. His hands jerked Draco closer, pushing his thigh against Draco's erection. With a gloriously abandoned moan, he shot all over Draco's hands and both of their clothes. For once in the history of the universe (or at least the last twenty-odd years), Draco didn't even care.

Harry took a few deep breaths, opening his eyes slowly, and then pulled Draco's body against his own, shoving out his thigh for Draco to rub against while Harry kissed him senseless again. It was all so unbelievable that Draco's control simply snapped and he moaned into Harry's mouth as he climaxed against his leg like a randy teenager.

Gathering his wits back together, Draco moved to straighten his clothing, finally releasing Harry's cock after one last appreciative stroke. In a moment his hands were tingling, all traces of stickiness gone from them and his clothes, inside and out. He quirked a brow at Harry, who gave him a bit of a sheepish grin at this perfectly ordinary use of wandless, wordless magic. Draco rolled his eyes.

Out of breath and a bit shy, Draco offered to buy Harry another drink but Harry declined saying that he had to be at work early the next morning. They made their way outside in silence, although Harry turned and gave him an odd look that Draco couldn't place at all, searching and confused and actually quite vulnerable. For a moment it made Draco want to protect him or something sappy like that.

Then Harry leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. "I had a really great time tonight. I'll send you an owl, ok?"

Draco nodded.

Harry grinned and kissed him again, then once more on the other cheek, and Disapparated.

Draco stood outside for a moment, still a bit dazed, then went back into the club. He bought himself a much-needed drink to shut up his brain and make the ridiculous organ in his chest stop thumping so wildly, then went home.

*****

Draco lay in bed, watching the sun come up after a sleepless night. He was jealous of "Daniel." Which was absurd because he was Daniel and it was just all too confusing to sort out any longer. How could Harry possibly like Daniel so much after just a couple of dates? It simply wasn't fair - Draco was certainly more charming as himself, although to be honest, he was probably equally charming no matter what face he was wearing.

At least he could have a nap in the afternoon since it was Sunday.

Sunday.

Potter didn't have to be at work today at all. And Draco hadn't even noticed the lie, he'd been so blown away by the sex.

That bastard. Who did he think he was, playing around with Daniel like that?

Draco groaned, thumping his head into the pillow again. Maybe if he took a sleeping potion, it would all go away.

*****

By Monday morning, Draco was furious. Livid. He had half a mind to just hit Harry with a good Stinging Hex, or, fuck it, even his fist. How dare Harry be such a slut for Daniel and then lie to him just to get away? How dare he be so eager to get wanked by a bloke he'd only met twice before, and in public no less? How dare he have lied for so many bloody years about being straight when obviously he was as queer as a ten-knut coin?

How bloody dare Harry like Daniel better than Draco?

Knowing he'd have to say something about the weekend and Harry's date, Draco skipped his usual double latte in favor of a calming potion. By the time he sauntered into the office he was feeling significantly more tranquil, although he did still want to smack Harry around a bit. Shove him against a wall...

Snog him silly...

Something like that, anyway.

Eventually Harry wandered in, clutching his tea as if it was his most treasured possession. He looked like he'd had a rough night and Draco almost felt sorry for him, but not quite enough to lay off teasing him in their usual manner.

"What's up, Potter? Rough weekend with your new conquest? Spent too much time shagging to get any sleep?"

Harry flipped him two fingers. "Lay off, prat. I've got a lot on my mind."

Some sort of weird pang went through Draco's chest, quelling his residual anger. He huffed, disgusted with himself for what he was about to say. "Fine then. I'll play Agony Aunt; tell me what's wrong and I'll make it all better."

Harry made a face. "I'd need more liquor than we have here in the office to spill my guts to you, Malfoy. And I think I heard somewhere that one ought not start drinking until some time after 9 AM."

"You've got to do something about that appallingly middle-class work ethic of yours, Potter," he answered, shaking his head. "Tonight then, after work, at that plebeian pub on the corner that you like to hide in. You will tell me all your woes and I will laugh and then I will tell you what to do and you will be grateful and kiss my arse."

Grinning, Harry repeated his earlier rude gesture. "In your dreams, Malfoy. But I'll let you buy me a few drinks at any rate."

At half-six exactly Draco grabbed Harry and dragged him to the pub. Within a quarter of an hour they'd polished off one ale with two shots of scotch and one gillywater with a twist of lemon, respectively. And finally, Harry was talking.

With blushes and stammers, the words Draco had longed to hear spilled out of Harry's mouth: "I've a friend... And uh, recently I've discovered I'm, uh, kind of attracted to... him." Harry's grip on his scotch tightened and he stubbornly refused to look up and meet Draco's smug expression. He continued. "I've never been into blokes before, so I tried the personals adverts in the Quibbler, and uh." He downed the rest of his drink. "AndImetsomeone," he said in a rush.

For words Draco had wanted to hear for several years, they were making him feel surprisingly ill. If it had somehow been possible, he would have beaten "Daniel" to a bloody pulp for daring to steal Harry away from him. Clearly, Harry had a crush on him, Draco, and so had placed the advert but now fancied himself in lov- well, in lust with "Daniel."

Bloody Daniel.

Maybe he could Glamour himself to be "Daniel" again and hex the fuck out of his mirror or something. If he didn't vent some of his frothing rage at, admittedly, his own total stupidity, Draco was going to explode. He grabbed the shot-glass the bartender had handily refilled for Harry and downed it in one swallow.

Then choked and sputtered as it burned a raging path of its own all the way down Draco's guts. His eyes watered. His face hurt from the contortions it was being pulled into. And somewhere, far away, he heard Harry laughing.

He opened his bleary eyes to see his friend, still chuckling, pushing a glass of water towards him. "Drink this."

Draco did. A deep well of alcohol-fueled self-pity began to overwhelm him. He'd lost Harry to a smarmy, less-pretty version of himself. And he only had his own idiocy to blame. A pout of the epically tragic variety pulled at his lower lip.

Harry was still laughing. "That's it, I can't keep this up any longer. I knew it was you from the first time we met, you bloody git."

Draco blinked at him. Harry couldn't possibly mean what Draco thought he meant.

Harry pushed Draco's barstool away from the bar with his foot and looked pointedly at Draco's crotch. He had a fleeting urge to cover himself with his hands, but quelled it, instead asking as intelligently as he could, "What?"

Rolling his eyes, Harry smirked. "You're so bad at being sneaky, I never understood how you got into Slytherin. I know, Draco. I've known since I first saw you on that park bench. You might have remembered your poncy jewelry but you forgot that damned belt buckle."

Draco looked at his lap. His belt in particular. The finest dragonhide leather with a buckle of Never-Tarnish silver. Worked into the shape of the Malfoy crest's trademark Celtic knot and encircled with a dragon. Subtle, of course, and very tasteful. Which was why Draco wore it almost every single day and never even noticed its design anymore.

"Fuck." His head met the bar-top with a thud.

"Also," Harry added in an annoyingly gleeful tone, "the name thing. Very smooth. Were you up all night thinking up 'Daniel Malvey' or was that your sad attempt at improvisation?"

Draco groaned. Le jeu sont fait, he thought, slowly raising his head. He drank some more water, almost wishing it was scotch before he remembered how much that had burned.

He sniffed pitifully, then remembered his righteous anger from the weekend. "What about you, you slag?" Draco demanded. "You let 'Daniel' get you off and then lied about having work the next day." He paused a moment, thinking back to this morning. "Oh. You did come in, didn't you? All the active files were finished up. And there wasn't anything urgent today...?"

Harry gave him a fond look. "Never skip your caffeine, love," he said leaning in to give him a quick kiss. "And good thing for us both you've always been too narcissistic to be any good undercover. Let's go back to your flat and I'll give you some lessons in being sly."

~end~

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sileya.livejournal.com

awwwwwww. Lovely!!

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Fic: Sexy Slytherin Dragon (1/1)

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