When Potter didn't send an owl over the next few weeks, Draco told himself he was not disappointed. He had thought he'd cleared the awkwardness between them after that disastrous drunken kiss, but given Potter's mortification, he couldn't be surprised at the distance. It wasn't as if they were friends, and Draco's life was hardly empty without the random bi-monthly lunch invitations. It wasn't a big deal, and it was probably for the best anyways. Sure, after they had finally hashed out the past in front of the Black family tapestry, he had thought that maybe their connection would be less delicate, but really, how long could Draco have expected their truce to last? Draco resigned himself to not receiving any more of Potter's last minute invites. Though it didn't stop his heart from speeding up every time he heard the soft beat of owl wings.
It wasn't until mid-February that Draco finally heard from Potter. He came home from a late night training session to see a scroll sitting on his pillow. It was a hastily scratched out invitation to another obscure Muggle restaurant the following day. Draco considered turning Potter down, writing that he had Quidditch and couldn't make it. But it would be easy for Potter to catch him in the lie, and Draco felt embarrassing eager for his company. Of course, it didn't help matters that it had been ages since he'd gotten off with anybody, and after their aborted kiss the previous month, Draco's libido had gone into overdrive. He needed a shag. He needed to find some way to dispel this energy thrumming underneath his skin. Maybe then he wouldn't feel so eager for Potter's attention.
Lunch was not precisely awkward, but it wasn't as easy as it used to be. Not that anything had ever been easy between the two of them, but now Draco felt a new kind of tension crackling in the air. Potter's gaze kept lingering on Draco's face, his throat, his hands, before skittering away, a frown marring his expression. Draco could feel the heat of Potter's eyes upon him, and it made his hands itch with the desire to touch. He could feel his mood souring. Salazar he was being ridiculous.
"What's wrong?" Potter asked, suddenly.
"It's not nothing, I can tell. You're distracted, and you keep scowling and clenching your fists."
"I'm...frustrated, is all. It's not a big deal."
"Frustrated? With what? Your job?"
"Not that kind of frustration." Potter looked at him quizzically, and Draco sighed. "I was realising that it's been awhile, and I think that's why I have been feeling so out of sorts lately."
"A while since what?"
"Good grief. Sex. It's been awhile since I've shagged anyone. Bloody hell."
Potter choked on an olive and any lingering embarrassment Draco may have felt evaporated. He grinned, quite enjoying Potter's apparent mortification at the topic. "I am thinking it's probably best for my health if I can find a regular shag. I've been thinking of calling on Nott. He's not exactly my type, but I know he's not looking for a relationship, and he would probably be up for a fuck," Draco said blithely. Potter's face was red, but he certainly looked interested, his eyes bright with curiosity and something else Draco couldn't place. Shouldn't place.
"What about that bloke?" Potter said after a long gulp of beer. His eyes didn't quite meet Draco's, staying fixed instead on his lips.
"Yeah, the one you were with at the bar when we ran into each other last year."
"Ah, yes, Brian." Potter frowned at his name, and Draco wondered if he was remembering Brian's coldness at their meeting. Brian had been absurdly jealous of Potter. Draco normally would have found that incredibly annoying, but it had made Brian gloriously desperate for it when they had finally gone back to Brian's flat. Brian had been fun, but it had been months since Draco had even thought of him, and longer still since they had seen one another. "He was seeing somebody, last I heard. We were never really together, but he was convenient when I needed to get off." Draco took a drink of water and watched as Potter's eyes followed the movement of his throat. He licked a stray droplet of water off his lips and Potter's eyes dilated.
Fuck this. Draco had had just about enough. He was frustrated and turned on, talking about sex and sitting across from a man he wanted to have sex with and who he was fairly certain wanted to have sex with him too. Draco reached for the basket of chips in the center of the table, turning to carbs in an effort to keep himself distracted. Potter reached out at the same time, and their fingers touched, sending tingles up Draco's spine. Potter's fingertips slid along Draco's wrist as he pulled away, and something inside of Draco burst.
"Potter." Potter looked up, eyes widening at the expression on Draco's face. "I am only going to ask this once, and if I am wrong, then we can forget this ever happened. But if you can get over whatever it is that's holding you back, then I think that we could come to some sort of...arrangement." He held Potter's gaze, letting his tone and his eyes tell Potter exactly what Draco was offering.
Potter swallowed, the sound audible even in the din of the crowded pub. His jaw clenched as he stared hard at Draco, and Draco prayed that he hadn't just made a terrible mistake. He wasn't sure he would be able to duck fast enough if Potter decided to deck him. Potter seemed to be vibrating with energy, the tension rolling off of him in waves, until suddenly he stilled. His eyes cleared and his mouth quirked into a small, nervous smile. He cleared his throat and withdrew a stack of paper bills, before throwing them on the table.
With a nod of his head, Potter got up and walked towards the door. Draco followed, unsure of what to expect when he exited. Would Potter be waiting for him? Was he leading Draco outside so they wouldn't disturb the patrons with their fist fight? Or would he have simply disappeared, letting Draco off the hook for his improper solicitation.
When he emerged into the bright, cold day, Potter was indeed waiting for him, his expression nervous but determined as he walked towards the alley that Draco had Apparated into. As soon as Draco followed him into the shadows, Potter pressed close, his arm wrapping around Draco. He felt wonderfully warm against the cold of the day, and Draco instinctively moved closer.
"Mine, then?" Potter asked, voice rough. Draco's stomach flipped.
"Lead the way."
They Apparated onto the front step of Grimmauld Place, and Potter fumbled at the door for only a moment, before leading the way inside. The door closed with a heavy click behind them, and Draco turned slowly. Potter paused just inside the door, and Draco took advantage of the sudden silence.
"I don't want a boyfriend."
Potter's brows furrowed. "Okay…"
"I mean it. I wouldn't say no to a regular shag, but I don't want you going all Loyal Gryffindor on me."
Potter rolled his eyes. "I think I'll manage."
"Good." With a hungry growl, Draco pushed Potter back against the solid door and kissed him like he had been wanting to for weeks...perhaps even longer. Potter froze for a moment, but then he relaxed and opened up his mouth for Draco, before kissing back with equal fervour. He arched against the door and rubbed his groin against Draco's, their hard cocks coming together in a delicious slide. Even through the layers of fabric, the friction felt amazing. Draco wanted more. He wanted to see Potter. He wanted to taste him. It had been far too long since he' had had the opportunity to suck somebody off, and he wasn't going to let the chance pass him by now.
"I want to blow you," Draco said, pulling back to look Potter square in the eyes. "Is that alright?"
Potter shuddered. "Fuck, yeah, that's more than alright."
Draco grinned and slid to his knees. He undid the buttons to Potter's trousers as quickly as possible, eager to get to the hard flesh below. His fingers trembled in anticipation as he slid down Potter's trousers, then his pants, exposing his long, thick erection.
"Of course," Draco muttered. Of course Harry fucking Potter would be hung like a hippogriff. Draco wanted to be put out about it, but it was hard to stay angry when lust thrummed vibrant and eager beneath his skin. He could smell Potter's arousal, and a pearly drop of precome beaded at the tip of Potter's cock. A thrill of possessive pride stole through him. All of this was because of Draco. Besides, it wasn't like Draco's own cock was anything to sneeze at.
Draco wrapped a hand around the base, his fingertips not quite managing to touch around the thick shaft. He pumped his hand, reacquainting himself with the feeling of another man's prick, the silken texture combined with the heady power of holding another man's pleasure quite literally in the palm of his hand. Above him, Potter moaned, and his hips twitched in an almost reflexive movement. Draco wondered if he had ever done this before.
He was fairly certain Potter had never been with another man, but Draco had no clue how far Potter's experience ran with women. While it seemed preposterous that the Savior of the Wizarding World might still be a virgin, Draco could not deny that Potter's reactions didn't seem to be those of somebody who'd had many conquests. His instincts were telling him that this was the first time anybody else had touched Potter like this. Draco usually found virgins tedious, and stayed far away from the pretty, wide-eyed newbies at the clubs. Now, though, the thought of Potter being untouched made Draco feel pleased, something delighted and proprietary welling up inside of him. If Potter truly was as inexperienced as Draco expected (and hoped), Draco had better do his best to make this a memorable first time.
Leaning forward, he ran his tongue up the underside of Potter's cock, swirling his tongue around the crown and licking up the gathering precome. Potter gasped. Draco did it again, and again, licking up and down Potter's cock until it was wet and glistening with saliva. Draco's own arousal strained against the waistband of his trousers—Draco had always loved giving head—and he slipped a hand down to undo his flies and free his erection. He looked up at Potter, and Potter looked back down at him with wild, blown-out eyes. His mouth was open and his breaths were heavy. His bottom lip was a shining, bruised red that made Draco want to suck on it. Potter's tempting mouth was too far away though, so Draco consoled himself with the prodigious cock in front of him.
It had been awhile since Draco had a prick in his mouth, and Potter was bigger than most, but Draco managed. He was heavy on Draco's tongue, the girth of him prying Draco's mouth open wide as Draco sunk down. Draco knew that many thought this was a degrading position, kneeling down and servicing another man, but not Draco. It always made him feel powerful and invincible. It was such a rush doling out pleasure as he saw fit, controlling the pace, the pressure, speeding up or drawing things out, making men squirm and beg as he cradled their most vulnerable assets in the warmth of his mouth. He wanted to do that to Potter. Wanted Potter to fall apart beneath Draco's talented tongue.
Seeing Potter's face pinched in pleasure, it seemed like a reasonable goal. Potter's hips jerked forward, and Draco nearly choked with the force of his thrust. Potter sputtered out a guilty apology, but Draco waved him off. Though perhaps it would be better not to risk another gagging incident. Draco reached up to press his forearm firmly against Potter's stomach and anchor him in place. With Potter secured, Draco began to move in earnest. He bobbed his head up and down, taking Potter in as far as he could go before sliding back off. Potter mewled and screwed his eyes shut. Draco could feel the tension in Potter's muscles, and it was obvious Potter was close. Potter seemed determined to last a little longer though, and Draco grinned around Potter's prick at the unspoken challenge. He dropped his other hand to his own prick, and began to wank himself fast, the feeling of Potter's cock in his mouth spurring his arousal to delirious heights.
Potter's hands came up to rest on Draco's head. His fingers threaded through Draco's hair, but he didn't make any moves to guide Draco. It was almost as if he was using his tentative grip on Draco to tether himself in place. Draco looked up and took in the naked pleasure on Potter's face. He looked gone on it, swept away and desperate, his eyes watching every slide of his cock between Draco's lips with an almost pained-looking avidness.
Potter's face twisted, and he rasped out, "Fuck, Draco, I'm—"
Draco knew what he was going to say. Luckily he didn't mind swallowing, because before Potter managed to complete his sentence, he was coming. Sticky release coated Draco's tongue and throat, and he swallowed the bitter fluid as he eased off Potter's cock. He could feel his own orgasm approaching and, panting against Potter's thigh, he worked himself to a satisfying end, coming in ropey spatters onto the floor.
They stayed like that for long moments, silent but for their harsh breaths as they recovered. Draco felt amazing, loose and relaxed and the kind of bone-deep satisfied that only came with a brilliant orgasm. He could still taste Potter on his tongue, could feel him in the ache of his jaw, and he had to hold himself back from stretching out like a pleased cat. This was not some lazy morning lie-in with a lover. This was getting off with an ex-nemesis turned secret not-quite-friend.
With one last contented hum, he pushed himself back up onto his feet, straightening out his appearance with a flick of his wand. Potter was still collapsed back against the door, looking for all the world like he had just been hit with a bludger, but was happy about it.
"Well, Potter, it's been fun. Let's do it again sometime."
Potter looked at him in faint bemusement, but a smile danced across his lips. "Whatever you say, Malfoy."
Draco grabbed one of Potter's hands, pulling him off the door until he stumbled forward into Draco. Their faces were inches apart, and Potter looked dazed as he stared into Draco's eyes. His mouth opened slightly and his head tilted, as if preparing for a kiss, but Draco only smirked. "See you around, Potter."
"Hmm?" Potter blinked.
Draco slipped out of Potter's grasp and out the front door. With a wink, he Apparated home.