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Harry despised Draco Malfoy. He really did. After twenty years as an Auror, Harry had learned patience. He’d learned civility. What he hadn’t learned was how to deal with this bloody ferret of a man.

“So,” Malfoy said, long legs crossed, pointed chin held high, “are you always this terrible at your job, or is it just when it comes to me?”

Harry stared at him. He didn’t let himself glare. Oh, no, he was too much of a professional for that. “I can assure you that my department is doing all that it can. I’m terribly sorry for the inconvenience.”

Malfoy smiled, and it was so damn condescending. “I like hearing you apologize.”

Harry felt his cheeks warm. “I always take full responsibility when my subordinates fail.”

“How very attractive.”

Harry coughed and fiddled with the file in front of him. Last week, somebody had broken into the Malfoy Manor, stealing a few priceless items, and the DMLE had required Malfoy to stay elsewhere while they searched for clues on the premises. These searches usually lasted only a day or two, but some trainees had fucked it all up and Malfoy was still not allowed to go home.

“Like I said, my department will fully reimburse you for your trouble.”

“It won’t be cheap. I’ve been staying at the magical Wellesley in London.”

“London is not close to Wiltshire.”

Malfoy smiled again. “But it’s close to my work.”

Harry suppressed a snort. Malfoy didn’t work; he spent his days manipulating and gossiping. He threw money at anyone and anything to get his way. He could be a great philanthropist, but instead he lobbied the Wizengamot to keep Muggles from expanding too close to the Manor.

“It sounds like you are managing this inconvenience.” He paused, not wanting to sound rude. “Therefore, I’m a little surprised that you demanded to see me today.”

“Nobody has given me an adequate timeline. I want to know when I will be able to return to my home.”

“Unfortunately, I don’t know.”

“Why the hell not?”

“The truth is that we have a lot of trainees working on your case. They need time to get it right.”

“Then get them off my case!”

“We don’t have anyone else. Believe me, I would’ve reassigned them if we did.”

“Well, it’s unacceptable!” Malfoy took out his wand, twirling it between his fingers. “Surely, you can do something more for me.”

“I cannot.”

Malfoy gazed at him, and it bordered on a leer. “Are you sure about that?”

Harry felt himself flush. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Have dinner with me.”

Harry blinked in surprise. He had never been secret about his preferences for men, but he never thought he’d be asked out by Draco Malfoy.

“You mean to embarrass me.”

Malfoy straightened in his chair. His thumb roamed up and down his wand, caressing it, and Harry was distracted by the rings on his fingers. “No. Believe me, my offer is entirely sincere.”

There was a wonderful swoop in Harry’s stomach, the kind that immediately made him aroused. He held his breath.

“This is quite sudden.”

“For you perhaps. Not for me.”

“No?”

Malfoy stared into his eyes. “No.”

“I can’t do anything for you. If we have dinner, it would strictly be outside my job here.”

“I completely understand.” Malfoy smiled faintly.

“You’re planning something, aren’t you?” Harry shook his head. “Always manipulating.”

Malfoy stood, his face suddenly red. “Just forget about it.” He went to the door but Harry stopped him.

“Did I offend you?”

“Yes, you imbecile.” Malfoy crossed his arms, incensed. “Not everything I do is political.”

Harry stood and came around his desk. “Forgive me. I’m just shocked.”

“I don’t forgive you.”

“Malfoy.” Harry cleared his throat. “Draco.”

“What?”

“I’ll go to dinner with you. Just tell me when and where.”

Malfoy looked him up and down, and there was something different about his expression. He looked a little scared, a little excited. “Tonight. In my room.”

“Not at a restaurant?”

“My room is as big as a flat, and I don’t want gossip. You are Harry Potter.”

“I understand.” Harry smiled warmly, letting his eyes twinkle with it. “What time?”

Malfoy stared, then at some length whispered, “Eight. My room number is 463.”

“Great! I’ll see you tonight.”

“Yes.” Malfoy opened the door and glanced back at him. “See you tonight.”

*

The Wellesley was very posh with a lobby of white marble and diamond chandeliers. Harry kept his head down and hurried to the lifts.

When he made it to Malfoy’s room, he paused to take a deep breath. There was no reason to be nervous; this was Malfoy, the person who had caused him all that strife during his school years. He was nothing more than that spoiled boy.

He knocked and made sure he was smiling when Malfoy answered.

“Come in, Harry,” Malfoy said.

“Thank you, Draco.”

Malfoy’s robes were a midnight blue and impeccably tailored. Harry wore a Muggle jacket and jeans. Malfoy looked him up and down.

“You couldn’t dress up?”

“I did. These are my nice clothes.”

Malfoy snorted and guided him into the lounge, where their dinner was laid out elegantly. A crystal candelabra crowned the middle of the table, its flames casting Malfoy’s face in golden shadows.

“Please sit down.”

“Okay,” Harry said, and perched on the chair opposite Malfoy.

“I hope you like duck.”

“I do.” Harry peeked down at his plate. “I also like fig sauce.”

“Oh, good.” Malfoy waved his hand and a bottle of wine uncorked and poured Harry a serving.

“Impressive.”

Malfoy smiled indulgently. “I aim to please.”

Harry ate a few slices of duck with the fig sauce. “Wow,” he said, wiping his mouth. “It’s very tender.”

Malfoy nodded, focused on his own plate. His face was clear and pale, and there were only a few faint wrinkles around his mouth. He was quite striking, Harry had to admit. His face held none of Lucius’ cruelty. Well, maybe his eyes. But when he glanced up at Harry, they were not cold or hostile, but softened and somewhat unsettled.

He’s nervous, Harry thought, and relaxed in his chair.

“How long have you wanted this?”

Malfoy smiled. “Oh, not long. Not long at all.”

“That makes sense. You never spoke to me at the Ministry.”

“You never spoke to me, either.”

“But here we are.”

“Yes,” Malfoy said quietly, and sipped his wine. He dragged his tongue over his bottom lip, and Harry found himself transfixed.

After a moment, Harry looked back down at his plate and took a few more bites. “I didn’t know your interests were similar to mine.”

“No?” Malfoy blinked in surprise. “I was convinced everyone knew. It’s been in the rags once or twice.”

“I don’t read tabloids.”

“Ah, of course.”

“There are plenty of men out there. I’m surprised I’m the one you asked to dinner.”

“You shouldn’t be surprised.”

“Why not? You just admitted your feelings are new.”

Malfoy didn’t say anything. He drank his wine in a long gulp and finished his dinner. Harry did the same, though making sure not to drink too quickly.

When it was all done, Malfoy snapped his fingers and their dishes disappeared. “Dessert?”

“No, thank you. Later perhaps.”

“Good choice.”

They moved to the sofa, which was plush with many pillows. They sat down, but Harry moved closer, watching Malfoy’s face.

“I want to kiss you,” Harry said.

Malfoy laughed. “You are pissed.”

“No. Far from it.” He hesitated. “I want to kiss you. I want to know if this is true.”

“And if it’s not?”

“Then I know that I’m only here because you intend to manipulate me.”

Malfoy smiled faintly. “How do you know that I’m not already manipulating you?”

Harry searched his face. “You are too nervous for that. Insincere charm comes easily to you.”

“Merlin,” Malfoy said. “It’s like you know me.”

“Come here.” Harry pulled him closer, and he liked the smell of his cologne and the warmth of his body. He hesitated for a moment, then angled his head, and pressed his lips to Malfoy’s.

It was awkward, so terribly awkward, but then Malfoy moaned softly and melted against him. Harry was immediately aroused. He tightened his arms around Malfoy, his tongue urging Malfoy to let him inside.

Their tongues touched, and it was exciting. Malfoy tasted like wine and figs, and Harry liked how he submitted, how he let Harry control everything.

“Christ,” Harry whispered, his head spinning.

“I want you,” Malfoy said, his voice low. “I’ll do anything.”

Harry dragged his thumb over his lips. “Open,” he said roughly, and pushed his fingers deep into his mouth. Malfoy got the idea and sucked, his tongue whirling around his knuckles, his eyes burning.

Malfoy let his fingers go with a pop. “I knew you’d be like this.”

“No, you didn’t.”

“I know you, Potter. I have watched you for over twenty years.”

“You’ve wanted me for over twenty years.”

Malfoy turned his face away. “Perhaps.”

“What do you want now?”

“Let me show you.” Malfoy took his hand and drew him into the spacious bedroom. He kissed Harry again and again. He removed his own clothes, then Harry’s, and his mouth was warm and insistent over Harry’s skin.

“Is this really happening?” Harry whispered.

Malfoy snorted and pushed him onto his back. “Let me show you.” He crawled on top of him, and his body was so damn pale. Harry tried to stroke his cock but Malfoy pushed his hand away. “No touching. Just watch.”

Malfoy Conjured up lots of lube. He fingered himself open, his eyes boring into Harry, his mouth curling in a smirk. Harry couldn’t breathe he was so aroused. Malfoy got into position, then worked Harry inside him, slowly. His eyes fluttered and he groaned.

“Fuck,” Harry moaned, becoming liquid.

“Shh, let me, let me.” Malfoy rocked on his cock, still staring at him. “You feel so good.”

“You too,” Harry panted, his toes curling. His bollocks were already too tight, and he was afraid he’d come too quickly.

“I knew it’d be like this.”

“Fuck, you’re going to make me come.”

“I knew you’d be gorgeous.”

“Draco.” Harry gasped and writhed. He tried to thrust, but Malfoy held him down. Malfoy sped up his rocking, but only a little.

“You’re desperate for me.”

“Yes, yes.”

“Finally,” Malfoy said, and leaned down to kiss him deeply. Harry wrapped his arms around him, not letting him move. Then he thrust with all his might. “Harry!”

Harry couldn’t speak. He grunted, his hips working fast, his bollocks smacking Malfoy’s arse.

“Come inside me.”

“Touch yourself.”

“Come inside me. I know you’re close.”

“Shut up,” Harry said, teeth gritted. He didn’t want to come, not yet, but his thighs shook from it, and he lost control. His thrusts faltered, and he groaned deeply as he filled Malfoy.

“Harry,” Malfoy whispered, squeezing around him, his cock spilling over his rapidly moving fist.

They relaxed against each other, limbs entangled. Harry slipped out, and he pressed his face to Malfoy’s slick neck and dozed off for a moment.

“Is this where you claim victory?” Harry murmured, drowsy.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“You let me shag you. Now you tell me what you want. Demand that I investigate the Manor myself.”

Malfoy pulled away and draped an arm over his head. He glared up at the ceiling. “I don’t have any hidden motives. I don’t know how many times I must tell you.”

“I just can’t believe you like me enough to want this.”

Malfoy turned to him. He ran a gentle finger over his cheek and chin, then up to his scar. “I like you very much. I just never showed it.”

Harry paused, daring to believe it. “Do you like me enough for a date?”

“This wasn’t a date?”

“A real one. No hiding, either.”

Malfoy kissed him. “Yes.”

“Good,” Harry said, and reached beneath the sheets for Malfoy’s cock. “How about round two?”

“Only if you suck my cock.”

“Done.” Harry kissed down his trembling stomach.