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Leaky Sinks and Proffered Services

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Draco loved his apartment. He had loved it from the moment he saw it, instantly becoming attached to the exposed brick, steel beams, and the huge windows that took up an entire wall. It was industrial and a bit rugged and a stark contrast to the pristine white mansion he had grown up in. More than anything, though, it was his.

With the help of some friends, he had moved in as soon as possible. Though his furniture could only be described as swanky, he purposely bought some out-of-place decor to keep it feeling down to earth. Comfortable. He didn’t want it to feel like a museum, like the manor—he wanted it to feel like a home.

Another thing he loved about the apartment was the amenities. His rent covered usage of the gym, the laundry room, a parking space, and general repairs. Though he regularly utilized the former three, it was almost seven months before he made use of the fourth.

The faucet in Draco’s kitchen sink had been dripping and though he initially hoped it would go away if he ignored it (a hope he applied to most unpleasant aspects of his life), that didn’t seem to be the case. He was certain that if he had to endure the steady plip plip plip for another day he would go mad. After rummaging around for the list of information in the building, he eventually found the number for the repairman. He dialed the number and leaned back against his counter, waiting for the person to pick up.

“Potter. How can I help?”

The guy spoke in a monotone, as if he were distracted.

“Hi, this is Draco Malfoy from 305. My kitchen sink is dripping. I was wondering if you could send someone to take a look at it.”

“There’s only me,” he informed him, not unkindly. Draco could hear shuffling from his end. “I’ll be right up. 305 you said?”

“Yes, thank you.”

He hung up, leaving Draco to sigh and place his phone down on the counter. The sound of the dripping water caught his attention and he cast a withering glare toward his sink.

As he waited for the repairman, he made himself a cup of tea and tidied up a bit. His phone buzzed, likely due to a text from Pansy, and he was about to check it when there was a knock at his door. Draco quickly put his cup down on the counter and went to answer it.

Lists of emails he had to answer, people he had to call, and meetings he had to schedule raced through his mind as he opened the door and oh. Standing outside with a toolbox in one hand and the other in his pocket was possibly the most attractive man Draco had ever seen.

Now, Draco had always been fairly confident. He knew that he was attractive and he put a solid amount of effort into his appearance, styling his hair in the mornings and even getting his clothes tailored. He knew he was handsome, knew he had nice hair, bright eyes, and a fit body. He was comfortable with himself and wasn’t typically prone to feelings of insecurity, but wow.

The man standing in his doorway was a specimen.

Though they were concealed by a pair of black-framed glasses, his eyes were a striking green. His hair was inky and windblown, pushed back, and his jaw could have been sculpted by a master. Draco’s eyes caught on a faint lightning bolt-shaped scar on his forehead.

“Mr. Malfoy?” The guy raised a brow questioningly.

“Uh, yes.” He quickly gathered himself, getting over the initial shock. “Please, call me Draco.” He held his hand out.

“All right.” The guy shook his hand with a firm grip. “Harry.”

Then Harry smiled and wow, Draco deserved some sort of warning. He had not been ready. Being hit with that smile had the same effect as washing his face or drinking a glass of water. All his problems were momentarily solved. He had a strong desire to swoon.

Draco should have worn something nicer than sweatpants and a sweatshirt.

Harry was wearing a white t-shirt and faded jeans. He was muscular and filled out the shirt in a way that had it hugging him in all the right places.

“You said you had a dripping faucet, right?” Harry asked.

Belatedly, Draco realized that he was leading Harry into the kitchen. Somehow, he had let go of Harry’s hand, invited him inside, and closed the door without registering any of it. He needed to get a fucking grip.

“Yes,” Draco gestured toward the sink. “It’s been like that for a couple of days. I was originally going to look up how to do it online, but I’m useless when it comes to repairs.”

Harry, who had been inspecting the sink, glanced up at Draco with a grin. “Next time you should call sooner. It’s my job to repair this kind of stuff, so you might as well take advantage of me.”

The mental images that flit through his mind were not necessary. He did not need to be thinking about Harry asking him to take advantage of him. This was not a porno. This was reality. Draco forcibly shoved any obscene thoughts from his mind, focusing upon the task at hand.

“Very well,” he replied, hoping he sounded nonchalant.

Harry got to work, opening up his toolbox and fiddling with the sink. He was unsure what he was expected to do while Harry repaired the faucet. Though it seemed rude to go and watch television or something, he didn’t want to hover whilst Harry worked. Draco eventually just grabbed his cup of tea and went to answer some emails in the living room.

After about twenty minutes, Harry poked his head into the living room. Draco quickly put his phone aside and stood.

“All done here,” Harry said. “Your sink should be good as new.”

Draco thanked him and followed him to the door, studiously ignoring his urge to check out Harry’s ass. It was one of the most difficult tests in willpower he had ever undergone.

“Let me know if you have any more problems with that sink.” Harry ran his fingers through his hair and Draco definitely didn’t watch the veins in his forearm.

They said good-bye and Draco shut the door quickly, once more resisting the urge to watch Harry’s ass as he walked toward the elevators. He was so fucked.

 


 

It was three weeks before Harry got another call from the hot blond in 305. Draco Malfoy. He was eating a sandwich in his apartment in the basement when his phone lit up with a call. Swallowing the bite he had just taken, he reached for the phone and picked up, not bothering to check the caller ID.

“Potter.”

“Harry, hi.” That cool drawl made Harry sit up. He recognized that voice immediately. “It’s Draco. From, uh, from 305.”

“Draco,” Harry hoped he sounded as unruffled as Draco did, “what’s up?”

“It’s my bathroom sink this time. I think it might be leaking.”

“I’ll be right up.”

Glancing down at his boxers and white t-shirt, Harry groaned. He was a mess. Quickly, he shoved the rest of his sandwich into his mouth and tugged on a pair of jeans, reminding himself that it didn’t matter if he looked disheveled because it didn’t matter what Draco thought of him—Draco was a tenant. He likely wouldn’t even notice if Harry had put effort into his clothes.

Though Harry was friendly and polite to all the tenants, he tried to make an effort not to get too close. This was his job and he needed it. Despite this, however, some of the tenants were fond of him. Mrs. Dashwood on the second floor regularly brought him cookies and leftovers and Mr. Nelson on the sixth floor would stop him outside or in the halls and talk his ear off. Though it may not have been the most professional, Harry did enjoy getting to know them.

Grabbing his toolbox, he headed over to Draco’s room, distantly hoping that Mrs. Dashwood would make another batch of peanut butter cookies. He was still thinking about them when Draco opened the door.

Light shone in from the windows behind him, making it appear as if he were glowing. Harry’s mouth went dry and he forced himself to smile in greeting. Instead of the sweatshirt and sweatpants he had been wearing last time, Draco was dressed in slacks that made his legs look miles long and a fitted baby blue turtleneck. He flashed Harry a gleaming smile and held the door open, inviting him in.

“The bathroom sink, you said?” Harry asked.

Draco was wearing cologne this time and Harry got a whiff of it as Draco brushed past him, leading him to the bathroom. His mouth watered.

“It’s leaking and I’m worried it’ll ruin the floor,” Draco explained. “I was going to try and fiddle with it myself, but last time you said to call you…” He trailed off, crossing his arms over his chest and chewing on the inside of his cheek. His high cheekbones had a faint tinge of red on them.

The sink was indeed leaking and several towels were set on the tiles in an attempt to soak up the water.

“You were absolutely right to call me,” Harry said, setting his toolbox down on the floor. “Let me take a look.”

He opened up the cabinet under the sink, getting on his knees so he could see properly. Using his flashlight, he examined the pipes—it was a simple leak in the drain line, easy enough to fix. He glanced backwards, prepared to let Draco know just that.

Draco was standing in the doorway to the bathroom, arms still crossed over his chest, but his eyes were on Harry’s ass. He was checking him out. Thrilled at the prospect of the hottest guy in the building checking out his ass, Harry pretended he was still examining the pipes. He leaned forward and arched his back, fully aware that that motion brought attention to his back muscles and made his ass look rounder.

After a few more moments of pretending to be busy, Harry made a point of turning his flashlight off and backing out of the cabinet, unfolding himself to face Draco. Draco’s eyes were definitely dilated and he was definitely blushing. The knowledge that Draco was attracted to him made his pulse accelerate. He could work with this.

 


 

It was definitely too soon to call him again, but Draco couldn’t help it. Try as he might to run into Harry in the halls, lobby, or elevator, he couldn’t seem to. It had only been a week and a half since Harry had fixed the bathroom sink. Draco knew he had a problem.

The sink hadn’t even been broken. The thing was, he couldn’t stop thinking about Harry’s eyes or that smile or the way he filled out that plain white t-shirt. It was almost obsessive. So he did what any sane man would do and loosened some of the compression nuts with a wrench (he’d had to watch a couple of videos to learn how). He then proceeded to check out Harry’s ass while he worked, his mouth dry and his conscience taking the day off. He still daydreamed about how Harry’s muscles had looked the last time, that white t-shirt damp with water from the loose pipe.

Thinking of things that needed to be fixed had begun to occupy most of his waking hours. He eventually decided to allow himself one last repair and after scouring his apartment for faults, eventually found a crack in the ceiling of his living room.

Harry arrived promptly, a ladder under one arm and some plaster held in the other. He was wearing nicer jeans than the last two times and his trademark shirt, though it appeared to be at least one size too small. Draco certainly wasn’t complaining. That chest.

“I’m starting to wonder if I should take it up with the landlord,” Harry said, setting up his ladder beneath the crack in the ceiling. “They ought to know about all these damages—you’re being ripped off.” Despite his words, there was a hint of amusement in his voice.

“No, no, it’s fine,” Draco quickly said. “This should be the last one for a while.”

“You never know,” Harry said, climbing up the ladder. “Things break all the time.”

He glanced down at Draco and okay, he did not just imagine Harry checking him out. He watched as those bright green eyes roved down, then up, landing on Draco’s face. Rather than looking embarrassed at being caught, he merely grinned, then got to work.

Draco’s heart was pounding. Harry, the swaggering Abercrombie and Fitch-model-looking repairman had just checked him out. Deliberately. As if he’d wanted to get caught. Of course Draco had spent almost an hour picking out this outfit hoping Harry would notice, but he didn’t honestly expect him to.

His attention was momentarily stolen from his revelation as Harry reached up to coat the ceiling in plaster. In doing so, not only did the definition of his arms get a moment to shine, but his shirt rode up. His jeans were hung dangerously low on his hips, revealing a defined V and abs that Draco wanted to drool on. How was he real?

“Sorry I, uh, I keep calling you here,” Draco said. He wasn’t sorry at all, but it was polite to at least pretend to be. “I’m sure you must be busy with other tenants.”

“Not a problem,” Harry reassured him. “Like I said, this is my job. You ought to take advantage of my services.”

Draco knew that had to be an implication. Harry was giving him an opening, testing the waters. It had to be Draco to make the first move—this was Harry’s job. He couldn’t be the one to make the first move.

“What other services do you offer?” Draco asked, hoping he sounded casual.

Though Harry was focused on the ceiling, he grinned. “Depends on the tenant.”

Did he regularly get hit on by tenants? Draco mentally slapped himself—Harry was an adonis, of course he did. There was no way that he was the first person to be attracted to him. Just as he was mentally preparing to place Harry in the off-limits category of his mind, Harry spoke again.

“Only one tenant has access to those services, though,” he clarified, shooting Draco a meaningful look.

Oh. Draco attempted to suppress his smile. “That’s good to know.” He searched for something to ask Harry, not wanting the conversation to end. “Do you live in this building too?”

“Uh-huh.” Harry held the handle of a spatula in his mouth as he examined the newly-plastered ceiling. He grabbed the spatula and fixed one more section before beginning his descent down the ladder. “I’ve got a studio down in the basement. It’s not much, but it keeps me warm.”

He ran his fingers through his hair, getting bits of plaster in it. Before he realized what he was doing, Draco reached forward and brushed them out.

“Thanks,” Harry said, taking a step closer, a smile tugging at his lips. His eyes flickered down to Draco’s mouth.

Unable to take it any longer, Draco grabbed Harry by the front of his shirt and pulled him in for a fierce kiss. Harry’s lips were soft and warm and his hands immediately circled Draco’s waist. He let out a little noise of delight that went straight to Draco’s cock and kissed Draco back like his life depended upon it.

Draco ran his hands through Harry’s hair and it was soft and messy and exactly how he had imagined. Harry’s hands had dipped beneath Draco’s shirt and were running up his back, tracing his spine and circling his hipbones.

“About those services,” he murmured, sucking on Harry’s lower lip. He got a soft groan for his efforts.

“I take it you’re interested,” Harry breathed.

In response, Draco rolled his hips against Harry’s—by the feel of it, he was just as hard as Draco was. Harry began undoing Draco’s shirt, fumbling with the buttons, and Draco splayed his hands across Harry’s abs, up to his chest. It was better than he could’ve dreamed. He allowed Harry to push his shirt off his shoulders and let it fall to the ground, then reached for the hem of Harry’s shirt and tugged it off, tossing it somewhere behind them.

He pulled back to admire Harry’s chest, drinking in that expanse of golden skin. Harry was watching him with dark, lidded eyes and he pulled Draco back into a kiss by the belt loops of his trousers. Fuck, that was sexy. Harry’s skin was hot against Draco’s and as they devoured one another, fingers raking down skin and hands tugging at tufts of hair, Draco walked them towards the bedroom.

Harry’s shoulder thudded against the doorjamb and he groaned. Draco took that opportunity to corner him, cupping his jaw and grabbing a very sizable handful of his ass. Harry rolled his hips against Draco’s and Draco instantly decided that they were still wearing too many clothes. Harry must have had the same realization, as he suddenly spun them around so Draco was against the doorjamb, then swiftly unbuttoned and unzipped him.

Harry pulled Draco’s trousers and boxer briefs down in one motion, then licked his lips upon seeing Draco’s cock, already shining at the tip. He glanced up at Draco through his lashes and the bastard grinned before swallowing him to the base. Draco made a strangled sort of noise and grabbed fistfuls of Harry’s hair, simply for something to hold on to.

Slurping and humming to himself, Harry sounded utterly obscene. Draco forced his eyes to keep from rolling back into his head, not wanting to miss a moment of the best blowjob of his life. Harry’s cheeks were hollowed and his hands were kneading Draco’s ass almost reverently. His tongue swirled around the head of Draco’s cock as he bobbed his head and Draco groaned. Loudly. He hoped his neighbors weren’t home.

Realizing he was going to come very soon, Draco tugged at Harry’s hair. “Wait, stop,” he panted.

Instantly, Harry stopped. He wiped his mouth off on the back of his arm and leaned back on his heels, looking up at Draco. “You okay?”

Draco nodded and laughed. “I’m way better than okay, trust me.” He pulled Harry up and tugged him into a fierce kiss, not caring that his own precome was smearing across his chin. If anything, it turned him on even more—he hadn’t known that was possible. “I want to come with your cock up my ass.”

Harry’s eyes widened, then he immediately started unbuttoning his jeans and kicking them off. Draco grinned, then grabbed the lube and a condom from his bedside table. Harry took the lube as Draco settled on his hands and knees on the bed. Harry leaned down to press a long, hot kiss to Draco’s lips and as their tongues touched, a warm, slick finger entered Draco. He moaned softly and closed his eyes.

Harry stretched him slowly and efficiently, checking in with Draco to make sure he was still okay. That what they were doing was okay. It was the hottest thing he had experienced.

When he had three fingers inside him, slowly fucking him open, he grew impatient. He needed Harry inside of him. Immediately. He passed the information along to Harry, who grinned and reached for the condom.

Draco turned around to look at Harry. His skin was flushed and covered in a sheen of sweat and he flexed when he caught Draco looking, winking cheekily. Draco grinned, then followed the sparse trail of hair down from Harry’s navel, gulping at the sight of his cock. It was around the same size as Draco’s, slightly shorter, but thicker. Not able to help himself, Draco leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the tip. Harry groaned and Draco swirled his tongue around the head. Harry’s thighs were trembling and Draco swore he could’ve come right then and there.

He leaned back and Harry quickly rolled on the condom. Draco scooted backwards onto the bed and was about to go back on his hands and knees, but Harry stopped him.

“I want to see you,” he said, his voice rough.

Draco’s pulse accelerated and he nodded, propping himself up on his elbows. Harry grabbed a pillow and put it beneath Draco’s lower back, putting Draco’s legs over his shoulders as he lined himself up.

“You still okay?” Harry asked.

Draco couldn’t pull his eyes away from Harry’s—somewhere, his glasses had fallen off and his gaze was even more intense than usual. He made Draco’s heart swell.

“More than okay.”

Harry thrusted in slowly, his mouth falling open. Draco’s eyes rolled back and he groaned. Harry was patient, moving slowly, only stopping once he was fully seated. After a few moments, Draco wiggled his hips and Harry began to thrust slowly, shallowly. They moaned at the same time and Draco reached up, running his hands over and across Harry’s skin, through his hair, wanting to touch every inch of him.

He felt almost drunk, buzzing with pleasure. At Draco’s urging, Harry sped up, swearing and moaning, beads of his sweat spilling down onto Draco’s chest. He was utterly beautiful, cheeks flushed, hair sticking to his temples, and his mouth was filthy.

Then Harry switched angles and fuck that was the spot. Draco cried out, his mouth spilling with praise for Harry, for his perfect cock, begging him not to stop.

Right there, Harry, fuck,” he gasped, his hands forming fists in the sheets.

Not only did Harry listen, he took one of his hands, licked his palm, then wrapped a fist around Draco’s cock, jacking him off as he jackhammered him. Draco let out a garbled jumble of curses, then his eyes locked with Harry’s and he was coming. Pleasure coursed through him and his body shuddered with the strength of his orgasm and Harry fucked him through it before he, too, was cursing and gasping Draco’s name. He thrusted hard once, twice, then his body stuttered and he let out a long groan.

Slowly, Harry pulled out, tugging the condom off and carefully tying it. Draco took it from him and tossed it into the wastebasket beside the bed. Harry flopped down beside Draco, panting, and they lay in silence and post-coital bliss for what felt like hours. The sweat cooled on Draco’s skin and his breaths slowly grew less erratic.

He turned his head to look at Harry—he had a blissed-out smile on his face and he looked toward Draco.

“How were my services?” He asked, grinning.

Draco laughed. “Five stars. I’ll leave a good review on Yelp.”

“I’m glad you finally took advantage of them,” Harry said.

Draco turned onto his side, propping himself up onto his elbow. “I may have to take advantage of them more often.”

Harry’s smile was wide and satisfied. “You definitely should.”

“What other services do you offer?”

Harry raised a brow, raising his hand to brush Draco’s hair out of his face. “What other services do you want?”

“Maybe a companion to dinner and a movie.”

Harry grinned. “That could definitely be arranged.” Draco leaned down to kiss him.

 


 

Several months later, when Harry was moving into the apartment, Draco admitted to his boyfriend that he had been the one to loosen the sink pipes.

“I know,” Harry said, laughing, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “I figured it out pretty quickly.”

“What?” Draco demanded. “How?”

Harry put down a box, then strode over to where Draco was perched on the counter. Draco, once more, admired him sweating in a white t-shirt. Harry leaned his arms against the counter on either side of Draco.

“You didn’t do a very good job of loosening the pipe, babe,” he said dryly. “Besides, I saw you checking me out.”

Draco scowled, wrapping his arms around Harry’s neck. “I thought I was being sneaky.”

“I know,” Harry said. He pressed a kiss to Draco’s lips.

“No wonder you dressed so nicely the third time you came around,” Draco observed.

“It was all to seduce you.”

“Excuse me, I seduced you.”

Harry raised his brows. “I love you, but you did not seduce me.”

“I wore nice clothes,” Draco argued. “And I kept inviting you up.”

“You broke things and made me fix them.”

“But then I gave you the best sex of your life.”

“…Fine, you win.”