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hpvalensmut fic and rec
Mar. 8th, 2006 09:35 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
wook77First - I'm so excited that the hpvalensmut Master List has been announced! YAY!!!!
I can now personally thank![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
corvidae for not only my story (Take What You Can Get) but also for Aberforth and his goat making an appearance in my journal! *tackleglomps* It's really well crafted and I just adore this story! If you haven't read it yet, what are you waiting for??!!?!!!!?!
My story was written forcatrinella.
Title: Not Over
Author:wook77
Rating: NC17
Word Count: 3707
Warnings: Angst, Flangst
Pairings: Harry/Draco, brief mentions of other pairings (Harry/Charlie, Harry/Bill, Harry/OC)
Summary: They'd always had passion, even when it was impassioned hate or loathing, passion had still been present. This quiet disregard, this cold civility, this impersonal chatter was not for either of them. When had they broken?
Author's Note: Forcatrinella at hpvalensmut. Many thanks to my betas, anael and janicechess, without them holding my hand and bouncing ideas back and forth, this story literally wouldn't have happened. Any remaining mistakes are mine and mine alone.
They hadn't talked in what seemed months but was realistically weeks. Either Harry was off on a mission, or Draco was out of the country, or both. Inevitably, when one was home, the other was away. When one was sleeping, the other was awake.
Even when they were both home and both awake, there wasn't time for talk, for a relationship. Instead, it was quick and unfulfilling and painful. A grope, a sudden kiss and then they were back to their lives. They were breaking apart and they didn’t even know it.
Harry sat on the couch, reading over his latest briefing on a mission that had kept him away from home for the past three months. He was tired; although whether he was tired of the missions, tired of the job, tired of the separation, or tired of his life, he couldn't quite decide. The weariness went to the bone.
The Floo activated and Draco popped out, his clothing disheveled and his lips swollen. At first, Harry didn't even recognize him. His hair, his clothes, his entire demeanor had all changed since he had last seen him months ago.
It spoke volumes that Draco didn't notice Harry on the sofa. Instead, Draco walked towards the kitchen and then just before the doorway, paused and did a double take. Finally, he acknowledged Harry’s presence in their flat with an inscrutable gaze. Harry nodded as Draco continued to stare.
"Harry, I didn't see you there. When did you get home?" The tone was one that Draco used when greeting strangers; that was when Harry realized that they had broken.
"About an hour ago. I like your hair." Draco nodded and continued into the kitchen.
Harry stared at his notes blankly as he pondered when the relationship had gone from fiery intensity to this, this coldness. They'd always had passion between them; even when all they had felt for each other was hate or loathing it had still been passionate hate or loathing. This quiet disregard, this cold civility, this impersonal chatter was not normal for either of them.
As he'd been thinking, Draco had re-entered the room. Sliding his notes off the seat next to him, Harry patted the cushion. Ignoring the invitation, Draco sat on the chair instead. Without looking at Harry, Draco grabbed the paper and opened it with a snap as Harry watched.
That Harry didn't feel anything at the slight came as a shock to him. Had they really gone so low that he didn’t even care any more? The moment dragged on as Harry stared at Draco and Draco read the paper.
Finally, Harry stood and made his way to the bedroom. After so many missions, it took little effort for him to cast the spell to pack his things into a trunk he hauled out of the closet. His clothes folded themselves neatly, his books flew off the shelves and a few pictures soared off the mantle above the fireplace.
After the trunk was shut, Harry shrunk it and put it into his pocket. When he turned, Harry saw Draco standing in the doorway. His expression was unfathomable as he leaned on the doorjamb.
"So this is it?" No emotion, not even resignation, showed in his voice.
"It's been over for quite a bit, hasn't it?" Harry asked as he looked around the room to see if he'd left anything behind. Draco didn't respond.
"When did we stop caring, Draco? How could it die without us realizing it was happening?" For just a moment, Harry saw a vitriolic expression flit across Draco's face before it became flatly unemotional once more.
"Who says we didn't realize it? How could it not die when you were never here?" A spark of hurt flashed in Draco’s eyes.
"You were never here as well, you know. Is that what we're going to do now, hurl accusations and blame?" Harry was relieved to finally feel emotional about what was apparently the end of their relationship. At least Harry knew he was still capable of feeling something, still alive.
"The time for that is past, you're right." Draco pushed off the doorjamb and turned back towards the main room. "Be well, Harry."
As Draco walked away, Harry started to raise his hand, started to call him back. He wanted to fight, to say something, anything, whether it was hateful recriminations or desperate pleas for acceptance. Instead, Harry let his hand fall and stubbornly repressed his feelings.
With a pop, Harry left the flat he'd shared for so long with Draco. It was over.
Harry tightened his grip on the red hair in front of him as Charlie Weasley laved the head of his cock with his talented tongue. The wet and needy hums sent Harry over the edge as he shot down Charlie's throat. Harry bit down on his hand, afraid that he'd call the wrong name in that sensitive moment. Blue eyes smiled up at him as he finished coming.
Harry didn't see them, though. Instead, his eyes were closed in a futile effort to block out the vision that surfaced of different blue eyes. It was over.
As Harry sank balls deep into the willing arse in front of him, he reached up to grab at the brown hair of... well, the Muggle's name was unimportant, before drawing out and then slamming back in. His grip was rougher than need be on the cock that belonged to what was just another body as he tugged the Muggle to completion. He tasted blood in his mouth as he bit his tongue to keep from crying out a name that he refused to acknowledge. It was over.
It had been only a few weeks since Harry had started dating Bill Weasley, but the relationship had already progressed to what Harry would call comfortable. He definitely wouldn't use words like heated or passionate; instead, it was safe and predictable. After having fucked so many different people and finding only emptiness, Harry thought that perhaps safe and predictable was the best he could get. At least it was the same person night after night.
They'd fallen into a routine incredibly quickly. Harry would come home from his job and start fixing dinner. By the time it was ready, Bill was home from Gringott's. They would eat while exchanging meaningless details of their day and then adjourn to the main room where they would sit in front of the television and watch a show or movie. At ten every night, they would go to bed. In the morning, Bill would wake and make breakfast. Then the cycle would repeat.
Harry told himself that it wasn’t boring or monotonous to keep the same schedule day in and day out. Harry didn't compare his days with Bill to the first days of his relationship with Draco, when every day was different and filled with frantic couplings and the overwhelming need for one another's company. Harry didn't think of Draco at all, or so he told himself. If he woke at night, sticky with the physical remnants of a dream whose details he'd suppressed, Harry put it off to his prick's needs and would go to the bathroom and clean himself off.
In the year since he'd quietly surrendered his passion, Harry had been promoted to a desk job at the Ministry. He no longer went out on missions. With few exceptions, he rubberstamped items that came across his desk and sent others out to investigate.
"Excuse me, Mr. Potter?" Harry was startled out of his musings to see his secretary standing in his doorway.
"Yes, Harriet? Didn't I tell you to call me Harry?" Harry watched as she glanced down at something in her hand and then looked up at him again.
"Yes, you did, Mr. Potter. Minister Malfoy is here to see you." Harry refused to acknowledge the slight increase of his heartbeat.
"Show him in, please. Thank you." Harry stood and quickly cleared a pile of paperwork off the one chair in his office, adding the stack to the pile on the corner of his desk.
When he turned back towards the door, Draco stood there, watching emotionlessly.
"Hello, Draco." Harry's voice sounded coolly professional. He hoped.
"Potter." Draco nodded in response. Harry ignored the stab of hurt at the appellation and gestured for Draco to enter.
"How have you been?" Harry told himself that it was just professional concern, perhaps even the care one would show towards an old friend.
"Well, thank you." Draco's polite tone didn't grate on Harry's nerves, it didn't.
When Draco walked past him to take the proffered chair, Harry smelled Draco's cologne. It was different than what he’d worn when they'd lived together. He didn't like the change; the other cologne had suited Draco much better than this one.
Draco had also changed his hair, it now hung in a single length to his shoulders. Harry had always preferred the graduated fall that made Draco's hair frame his face. That style had softened the pointed features and made him beautiful. Then again, Draco had always been beautiful to Harry regardless of his haircut or cologne.
Harry squelched that thought as Draco sat in the chair; Harry leaned on the corner of his desk.
"What brings you here?" When Draco looked over at him, Harry couldn't say what he wanted to see on his face but he knew it wasn't that cold mask of indifference.
"You didn't approve this. I'd like to know why." Draco held out a folder and Harry brushed against Draco's fingers lightly as he took it from him. Heat skittered across his fingertips where they had touched.
"Let me look at which one this is." Harry took a moment to collect himself before turning his attention to the folder. The paperwork inside meant nothing to him; Harry had no idea what it said, because he'd simply seen the name ‘Draco Malfoy’ and denied it by rote.
"There were concerns with the paperwork." Draco quirked an eyebrow but Harry kept his expression steady and impassive.
"And those concerns were what, Mr. Potter?" Harry glanced at the open door before gazing at Draco once more.
"I am not at liberty to discuss those concerns, Minister." If Harry sneered as he said the title, he could be forgiven in light of Draco's own sneering usage of impersonal titles.
"It wouldn't happen to have anything to do with the fact that I was the one making the request, would it?" Draco's sneer transferred from his voice to his face and Harry flashed back to his Hogwarts days. Scared, Potter, echoed through his head in that same taunting, sneering aristocratic voice.
"I run a tight office, Minister. We dismiss invalid requests based on said requests’ merits. We have no concern for the identity of the being behind the request." Harry struggled to add insult into his voice because he knew that Draco was right.
Draco abruptly stood and drew his wand. Harry couldn't stifle the instinctual grab for his own.
"Potter, I am a Minister in this government. It’s highly unlikely that I would hex you simply for being an arrogant git." With that, Draco waved his wand and the door slammed shut.
"Now, Potter, let's put all of our cards on the table, shall we?" Draco turned back towards Harry. "You denied my request because it was me. Don't lie to me."
The fiery tone in Draco’s voice made heat pool in Harry's groin. However, Harry kept his face neutral and stayed where he was, one leg propped on the desk with his foot swinging.
"Are you accusing me of abuse of power, Minister?" This time, Harry didn't have to feign being insulted.
"That is exactly what I'm doing. You have approved one, just one, of my fifteen requests to you in the past three months. The other Ministers have had all of their requests approved. That strikes me as discrimination."
"I had thought the dissolution of our relationship would not affect your professionalism. I see that I was mistaken. I thought we could discuss this rationally. I thought we could come to an agreement. I forgot about your..." Draco broke off. "I see that there is no merit in continuing this discussion. I shall bring your blatant abuse of your position to the attention of the other Ministers. You shall be hearing about this."
Turning on one well-shod heel, Draco stalked towards the door. Harry reached out a hand as he asked, "Dissolution? Is that what you would call it? Were we under contract? Was it so impersonal the entire time?"
Draco twisted back around and stared at Harry. A thrill slithered up Harry's spine that finally, there was some passion in their interaction.
"I'm not going to discuss this, Potter. The time for this discussion has passed." Draco's tone was cold and it infuriated Harry. He leapt off the desk and stood, chest to chest, with Draco.
"When was the time for discussion, then, Draco?" Harry held Draco's gaze as he demanded an answer in a low and dangerously quiet voice.
"You're in my space, Potter. I suggest you back off before I add attacking a Minister to my list of grievances." There was a shiver in Draco's voice and Harry relished it. Finally, there was feeling, there was passion the way it used to be.
"I haven't touched you, Minister. When was the time for discussion? Answer me." Harry ignored the hint of desperation in his own voice and pretended that it was anger instead.
"Perhaps before you started packing? Perhaps when you were gone for months on end and didn't say two words to me, not even by owl? Perhaps when I was left alone at all times? Perhaps before..." Draco's voice trailed off as Harry leaned closer.
"I tried." Harry whispered so softly, he wasn't sure that he'd actually spoken out loud.
"Sod that, Potter! You didn't try. You went on a mission, came home and did me the kindness of a brief shag before you were off on another mission! Then it would be another few months before I heard from you again! How many times in that last year were we together and awake? Can you answer that?" Draco's hissed demands thrust through Harry with the precision of stilettos.
In response, Harry pushed closer. Draco backed up a step and Harry pressed forward once more. This continued until Draco's back was against the wall; Harry tried to loom over the taller man.
"You were never home when I was home, Draco. You were always too tired, too busy, too everything to spend time with me. I took those missions to get this promotion. I was out there so I could get a sodding desk job so I could be with you! That was my last bloody mission, you know." Harry paused to thrust his hand through his own hair before continuing.
"You were the one that came home with your robes mis-buttoned and your lips swollen. It was obvious what you'd done, you know. At least I was faithful during those missions. At least I wanked only to you. I didn't touch another fucking person when I was away from you. That's more than you can say, isn't it?" Harry snapped the last and then turned to stalk away.
"Are you accusing me of infidelity?" Draco's affronted tone made Harry turn around again to face him. "I never cheated on you. I didn't touch another person."
"Spare me, Malfoy. Your lips were swollen. I was with you long enough to know that they didn't get that swollen unless you'd been snogging someone. That it was not me was quite obvious." Harry raked his hand through his hair once more.
"Is that why you left? You thought I'd cheated on you?" Draco looked disbelieving.
"It was that and also... there wasn't anything between us. We were dead, Draco. We were flatmates that shared a bed. Fuck, do you know how much that killed me to realize?" Harry advanced towards Draco. "I fucking loved you and then we were dead, and it was over."
Once more, they stood chest to chest. Harry could almost taste the breath that left Draco's mouth as he panted slightly.
"I loved you too, you know." The words were so soft that Harry thought he'd imagined them until he saw Draco's face. He looked aghast at his admission. Before he could think about what he was doing, Harry leaned in and pressed his lips against Draco's.
Finally, here was that passion, that need that Harry had been searching for in all those meaningless encounters. Here was the meaning of existing, of being.
When Draco moaned into his mouth, Harry took the opportunity to thrust his tongue into that cavity and the wet slide of tongue on tongue fully hardened his cock. With a groan, Harry pressed forward so that they were touching, from thigh to tongue. As Harry ground his cock forward, Draco's erection answered.
With rough hands, Harry gripped the sides of Draco's shirt and ripped. Buttons pinged on the floor as they landed and Harry roughly tweaked a nipple. Draco broke the kiss to cry out at the sensation as Harry pushed him harder against the wall.
Frantic hands scrambled for fastenings in the fabric that hung between them. The roughness tempered itself into need that was hot and wanting and necessary. Harry needed to feel all of Draco now.
"Jesus God, Harry, Jesus God." The words sounded broken as Draco panted and arched his head backwards, exposing his throat. Swooping down, Harry sucked at the sensitive skin and knew that he was going to leave a mark. He didn't care though, didn’t care about anything but the passion welling up between them.
When he felt Draco's hands on his prick, Harry let out a howl. It had been so long, far too long, since they'd touched this way. Draco's grip was steady but tender and Harry responded with a caring grasp of his own.
Taking hold of the back of Draco's thighs, Harry pulled until Draco was leaning against the wall, his legs wrapped around Harry.
"Hold tight," he commanded as he batted Draco's hand away from his cock. Feeling Draco's thighs tighten around his hips, Harry took both their cocks into his hands and began to rub and tug. The slide of cock on cock ached and hurt and felt far too good.
It didn't take long before Harry came. This time, Harry didn't bite down on his lip or his tongue or his hand. Instead, Harry cried out the word he'd suppressed for so long.
The cry of "Draco!" broke from his lips as he spilled onto his clasped hands. Using his own fluids as a lubricant, Harry persisted with fisting Draco's cock until Draco, too, came. Hearing his name spill from those lips at that moment made Harry's heart race even faster than before.
The moment slid on as they stared at one another. It slowly became uncomfortable, physically and emotionally, as their fluids started to dry. With slow deliberate gestures, Harry brought one of his hands to his mouth. Licking and sucking, he slowly cleaned off the combined mess.
"I've missed the taste of you," he whispered. Harry felt a shiver race across Draco's body.
"This doesn't solve anything, Harry. This doesn't fix anything." Draco shook his head as he unhooked his legs and slid down Harry's body. His softening prick ached when Draco's flesh skimmed across it.
"Where did we go wrong, Draco?" Harry whispered as he leaned his forehead to touch Draco's. They stood like that as the question hung in the air between them.
"It just died, Harry." The fact that Draco didn't move his head away or force Harry to back off encouraged Harry to press his luck.
"Maybe it didn't die. Maybe it just needed some time and attention. I'm willing to try, Draco. Maybe it’s not over." Harry closed his eyes as he waited for Draco's response.
"I don't know, Harry. It hurt when I watched you pack without even trying to talk to me. If you weren't willing to try then, why would it be any different this time?" Was that fear in Draco's voice, Harry wondered?
"I've missed you, Draco. I've felt empty. I denied your requests, hoping that you'd come down here and spar with me, talk to me." Harry hadn't meant to admit that.
"What about your parade of lovers? How empty could you be if you were fucking anything that walked on two legs and had a dick?" There was definitely hurt in Draco's voice. Once more, Harry was encouraged to continue.
"Do you see this?" Harry pulled back from Draco's face so that he could show him his hand.
"This right here, do you see it?" Harry pointed to a series of small scars on his thumb as he spoke. Draco nodded. "That's from biting my hand to keep from calling your name. I bit my tongue, my lip, my cheek, anything to keep from calling your name when I was with those other people. I denied it to myself, of course. But it was to keep from calling your name.
"When I called your name just now, I finally felt complete. I felt alive and I haven't felt that way since we were together."
Draco merely nodded before he moved away. Harry watched, silent and unsure, as Draco gathered his clothes and dressed. A shake of his head was his only acknowledgement of the destruction of his shirt. A quick spell and the shirt was put right again.
"Where are you going? Why aren't you saying anything?" Harry grabbed Draco's shoulder.
"Dinner at the flat, seven tonight. I expect my requests to be approved from here on out. You don't need to play games to make me pay attention to you." The touch of Draco's hand on his as he lifted it off his shoulder made Harry shudder.
"I'll be there."
It wasn't a promise of forever or even complete reconciliation, but it was enough that he would be with Draco on Valentine's Day. There was a chance. It wasn’t over.
As always, commentary and concrit welcomed with open arms.
hpvalensmut Master List has been announced! YAY!!!!I can now personally thank
corvidae for not only my story (Take What You Can Get) but also for Aberforth and his goat making an appearance in my journal! *tackleglomps* It's really well crafted and I just adore this story! If you haven't read it yet, what are you waiting for??!!?!!!!?!My story was written for
catrinella.Title: Not Over
Author:
wook77Rating: NC17
Word Count: 3707
Warnings: Angst, Flangst
Pairings: Harry/Draco, brief mentions of other pairings (Harry/Charlie, Harry/Bill, Harry/OC)
Summary: They'd always had passion, even when it was impassioned hate or loathing, passion had still been present. This quiet disregard, this cold civility, this impersonal chatter was not for either of them. When had they broken?
Author's Note: For
catrinella at hpvalensmut. Many thanks to my betas, anael and janicechess, without them holding my hand and bouncing ideas back and forth, this story literally wouldn't have happened. Any remaining mistakes are mine and mine alone.They hadn't talked in what seemed months but was realistically weeks. Either Harry was off on a mission, or Draco was out of the country, or both. Inevitably, when one was home, the other was away. When one was sleeping, the other was awake.
Even when they were both home and both awake, there wasn't time for talk, for a relationship. Instead, it was quick and unfulfilling and painful. A grope, a sudden kiss and then they were back to their lives. They were breaking apart and they didn’t even know it.
Harry sat on the couch, reading over his latest briefing on a mission that had kept him away from home for the past three months. He was tired; although whether he was tired of the missions, tired of the job, tired of the separation, or tired of his life, he couldn't quite decide. The weariness went to the bone.
The Floo activated and Draco popped out, his clothing disheveled and his lips swollen. At first, Harry didn't even recognize him. His hair, his clothes, his entire demeanor had all changed since he had last seen him months ago.
It spoke volumes that Draco didn't notice Harry on the sofa. Instead, Draco walked towards the kitchen and then just before the doorway, paused and did a double take. Finally, he acknowledged Harry’s presence in their flat with an inscrutable gaze. Harry nodded as Draco continued to stare.
"Harry, I didn't see you there. When did you get home?" The tone was one that Draco used when greeting strangers; that was when Harry realized that they had broken.
"About an hour ago. I like your hair." Draco nodded and continued into the kitchen.
Harry stared at his notes blankly as he pondered when the relationship had gone from fiery intensity to this, this coldness. They'd always had passion between them; even when all they had felt for each other was hate or loathing it had still been passionate hate or loathing. This quiet disregard, this cold civility, this impersonal chatter was not normal for either of them.
As he'd been thinking, Draco had re-entered the room. Sliding his notes off the seat next to him, Harry patted the cushion. Ignoring the invitation, Draco sat on the chair instead. Without looking at Harry, Draco grabbed the paper and opened it with a snap as Harry watched.
That Harry didn't feel anything at the slight came as a shock to him. Had they really gone so low that he didn’t even care any more? The moment dragged on as Harry stared at Draco and Draco read the paper.
Finally, Harry stood and made his way to the bedroom. After so many missions, it took little effort for him to cast the spell to pack his things into a trunk he hauled out of the closet. His clothes folded themselves neatly, his books flew off the shelves and a few pictures soared off the mantle above the fireplace.
After the trunk was shut, Harry shrunk it and put it into his pocket. When he turned, Harry saw Draco standing in the doorway. His expression was unfathomable as he leaned on the doorjamb.
"So this is it?" No emotion, not even resignation, showed in his voice.
"It's been over for quite a bit, hasn't it?" Harry asked as he looked around the room to see if he'd left anything behind. Draco didn't respond.
"When did we stop caring, Draco? How could it die without us realizing it was happening?" For just a moment, Harry saw a vitriolic expression flit across Draco's face before it became flatly unemotional once more.
"Who says we didn't realize it? How could it not die when you were never here?" A spark of hurt flashed in Draco’s eyes.
"You were never here as well, you know. Is that what we're going to do now, hurl accusations and blame?" Harry was relieved to finally feel emotional about what was apparently the end of their relationship. At least Harry knew he was still capable of feeling something, still alive.
"The time for that is past, you're right." Draco pushed off the doorjamb and turned back towards the main room. "Be well, Harry."
As Draco walked away, Harry started to raise his hand, started to call him back. He wanted to fight, to say something, anything, whether it was hateful recriminations or desperate pleas for acceptance. Instead, Harry let his hand fall and stubbornly repressed his feelings.
With a pop, Harry left the flat he'd shared for so long with Draco. It was over.
~~**~~
Harry tightened his grip on the red hair in front of him as Charlie Weasley laved the head of his cock with his talented tongue. The wet and needy hums sent Harry over the edge as he shot down Charlie's throat. Harry bit down on his hand, afraid that he'd call the wrong name in that sensitive moment. Blue eyes smiled up at him as he finished coming.
Harry didn't see them, though. Instead, his eyes were closed in a futile effort to block out the vision that surfaced of different blue eyes. It was over.
~~**~~
As Harry sank balls deep into the willing arse in front of him, he reached up to grab at the brown hair of... well, the Muggle's name was unimportant, before drawing out and then slamming back in. His grip was rougher than need be on the cock that belonged to what was just another body as he tugged the Muggle to completion. He tasted blood in his mouth as he bit his tongue to keep from crying out a name that he refused to acknowledge. It was over.
~~**~~
It had been only a few weeks since Harry had started dating Bill Weasley, but the relationship had already progressed to what Harry would call comfortable. He definitely wouldn't use words like heated or passionate; instead, it was safe and predictable. After having fucked so many different people and finding only emptiness, Harry thought that perhaps safe and predictable was the best he could get. At least it was the same person night after night.
They'd fallen into a routine incredibly quickly. Harry would come home from his job and start fixing dinner. By the time it was ready, Bill was home from Gringott's. They would eat while exchanging meaningless details of their day and then adjourn to the main room where they would sit in front of the television and watch a show or movie. At ten every night, they would go to bed. In the morning, Bill would wake and make breakfast. Then the cycle would repeat.
Harry told himself that it wasn’t boring or monotonous to keep the same schedule day in and day out. Harry didn't compare his days with Bill to the first days of his relationship with Draco, when every day was different and filled with frantic couplings and the overwhelming need for one another's company. Harry didn't think of Draco at all, or so he told himself. If he woke at night, sticky with the physical remnants of a dream whose details he'd suppressed, Harry put it off to his prick's needs and would go to the bathroom and clean himself off.
In the year since he'd quietly surrendered his passion, Harry had been promoted to a desk job at the Ministry. He no longer went out on missions. With few exceptions, he rubberstamped items that came across his desk and sent others out to investigate.
"Excuse me, Mr. Potter?" Harry was startled out of his musings to see his secretary standing in his doorway.
"Yes, Harriet? Didn't I tell you to call me Harry?" Harry watched as she glanced down at something in her hand and then looked up at him again.
"Yes, you did, Mr. Potter. Minister Malfoy is here to see you." Harry refused to acknowledge the slight increase of his heartbeat.
"Show him in, please. Thank you." Harry stood and quickly cleared a pile of paperwork off the one chair in his office, adding the stack to the pile on the corner of his desk.
When he turned back towards the door, Draco stood there, watching emotionlessly.
"Hello, Draco." Harry's voice sounded coolly professional. He hoped.
"Potter." Draco nodded in response. Harry ignored the stab of hurt at the appellation and gestured for Draco to enter.
"How have you been?" Harry told himself that it was just professional concern, perhaps even the care one would show towards an old friend.
"Well, thank you." Draco's polite tone didn't grate on Harry's nerves, it didn't.
When Draco walked past him to take the proffered chair, Harry smelled Draco's cologne. It was different than what he’d worn when they'd lived together. He didn't like the change; the other cologne had suited Draco much better than this one.
Draco had also changed his hair, it now hung in a single length to his shoulders. Harry had always preferred the graduated fall that made Draco's hair frame his face. That style had softened the pointed features and made him beautiful. Then again, Draco had always been beautiful to Harry regardless of his haircut or cologne.
Harry squelched that thought as Draco sat in the chair; Harry leaned on the corner of his desk.
"What brings you here?" When Draco looked over at him, Harry couldn't say what he wanted to see on his face but he knew it wasn't that cold mask of indifference.
"You didn't approve this. I'd like to know why." Draco held out a folder and Harry brushed against Draco's fingers lightly as he took it from him. Heat skittered across his fingertips where they had touched.
"Let me look at which one this is." Harry took a moment to collect himself before turning his attention to the folder. The paperwork inside meant nothing to him; Harry had no idea what it said, because he'd simply seen the name ‘Draco Malfoy’ and denied it by rote.
"There were concerns with the paperwork." Draco quirked an eyebrow but Harry kept his expression steady and impassive.
"And those concerns were what, Mr. Potter?" Harry glanced at the open door before gazing at Draco once more.
"I am not at liberty to discuss those concerns, Minister." If Harry sneered as he said the title, he could be forgiven in light of Draco's own sneering usage of impersonal titles.
"It wouldn't happen to have anything to do with the fact that I was the one making the request, would it?" Draco's sneer transferred from his voice to his face and Harry flashed back to his Hogwarts days. Scared, Potter, echoed through his head in that same taunting, sneering aristocratic voice.
"I run a tight office, Minister. We dismiss invalid requests based on said requests’ merits. We have no concern for the identity of the being behind the request." Harry struggled to add insult into his voice because he knew that Draco was right.
Draco abruptly stood and drew his wand. Harry couldn't stifle the instinctual grab for his own.
"Potter, I am a Minister in this government. It’s highly unlikely that I would hex you simply for being an arrogant git." With that, Draco waved his wand and the door slammed shut.
"Now, Potter, let's put all of our cards on the table, shall we?" Draco turned back towards Harry. "You denied my request because it was me. Don't lie to me."
The fiery tone in Draco’s voice made heat pool in Harry's groin. However, Harry kept his face neutral and stayed where he was, one leg propped on the desk with his foot swinging.
"Are you accusing me of abuse of power, Minister?" This time, Harry didn't have to feign being insulted.
"That is exactly what I'm doing. You have approved one, just one, of my fifteen requests to you in the past three months. The other Ministers have had all of their requests approved. That strikes me as discrimination."
"I had thought the dissolution of our relationship would not affect your professionalism. I see that I was mistaken. I thought we could discuss this rationally. I thought we could come to an agreement. I forgot about your..." Draco broke off. "I see that there is no merit in continuing this discussion. I shall bring your blatant abuse of your position to the attention of the other Ministers. You shall be hearing about this."
Turning on one well-shod heel, Draco stalked towards the door. Harry reached out a hand as he asked, "Dissolution? Is that what you would call it? Were we under contract? Was it so impersonal the entire time?"
Draco twisted back around and stared at Harry. A thrill slithered up Harry's spine that finally, there was some passion in their interaction.
"I'm not going to discuss this, Potter. The time for this discussion has passed." Draco's tone was cold and it infuriated Harry. He leapt off the desk and stood, chest to chest, with Draco.
"When was the time for discussion, then, Draco?" Harry held Draco's gaze as he demanded an answer in a low and dangerously quiet voice.
"You're in my space, Potter. I suggest you back off before I add attacking a Minister to my list of grievances." There was a shiver in Draco's voice and Harry relished it. Finally, there was feeling, there was passion the way it used to be.
"I haven't touched you, Minister. When was the time for discussion? Answer me." Harry ignored the hint of desperation in his own voice and pretended that it was anger instead.
"Perhaps before you started packing? Perhaps when you were gone for months on end and didn't say two words to me, not even by owl? Perhaps when I was left alone at all times? Perhaps before..." Draco's voice trailed off as Harry leaned closer.
"I tried." Harry whispered so softly, he wasn't sure that he'd actually spoken out loud.
"Sod that, Potter! You didn't try. You went on a mission, came home and did me the kindness of a brief shag before you were off on another mission! Then it would be another few months before I heard from you again! How many times in that last year were we together and awake? Can you answer that?" Draco's hissed demands thrust through Harry with the precision of stilettos.
In response, Harry pushed closer. Draco backed up a step and Harry pressed forward once more. This continued until Draco's back was against the wall; Harry tried to loom over the taller man.
"You were never home when I was home, Draco. You were always too tired, too busy, too everything to spend time with me. I took those missions to get this promotion. I was out there so I could get a sodding desk job so I could be with you! That was my last bloody mission, you know." Harry paused to thrust his hand through his own hair before continuing.
"You were the one that came home with your robes mis-buttoned and your lips swollen. It was obvious what you'd done, you know. At least I was faithful during those missions. At least I wanked only to you. I didn't touch another fucking person when I was away from you. That's more than you can say, isn't it?" Harry snapped the last and then turned to stalk away.
"Are you accusing me of infidelity?" Draco's affronted tone made Harry turn around again to face him. "I never cheated on you. I didn't touch another person."
"Spare me, Malfoy. Your lips were swollen. I was with you long enough to know that they didn't get that swollen unless you'd been snogging someone. That it was not me was quite obvious." Harry raked his hand through his hair once more.
"Is that why you left? You thought I'd cheated on you?" Draco looked disbelieving.
"It was that and also... there wasn't anything between us. We were dead, Draco. We were flatmates that shared a bed. Fuck, do you know how much that killed me to realize?" Harry advanced towards Draco. "I fucking loved you and then we were dead, and it was over."
Once more, they stood chest to chest. Harry could almost taste the breath that left Draco's mouth as he panted slightly.
"I loved you too, you know." The words were so soft that Harry thought he'd imagined them until he saw Draco's face. He looked aghast at his admission. Before he could think about what he was doing, Harry leaned in and pressed his lips against Draco's.
Finally, here was that passion, that need that Harry had been searching for in all those meaningless encounters. Here was the meaning of existing, of being.
When Draco moaned into his mouth, Harry took the opportunity to thrust his tongue into that cavity and the wet slide of tongue on tongue fully hardened his cock. With a groan, Harry pressed forward so that they were touching, from thigh to tongue. As Harry ground his cock forward, Draco's erection answered.
With rough hands, Harry gripped the sides of Draco's shirt and ripped. Buttons pinged on the floor as they landed and Harry roughly tweaked a nipple. Draco broke the kiss to cry out at the sensation as Harry pushed him harder against the wall.
Frantic hands scrambled for fastenings in the fabric that hung between them. The roughness tempered itself into need that was hot and wanting and necessary. Harry needed to feel all of Draco now.
"Jesus God, Harry, Jesus God." The words sounded broken as Draco panted and arched his head backwards, exposing his throat. Swooping down, Harry sucked at the sensitive skin and knew that he was going to leave a mark. He didn't care though, didn’t care about anything but the passion welling up between them.
When he felt Draco's hands on his prick, Harry let out a howl. It had been so long, far too long, since they'd touched this way. Draco's grip was steady but tender and Harry responded with a caring grasp of his own.
Taking hold of the back of Draco's thighs, Harry pulled until Draco was leaning against the wall, his legs wrapped around Harry.
"Hold tight," he commanded as he batted Draco's hand away from his cock. Feeling Draco's thighs tighten around his hips, Harry took both their cocks into his hands and began to rub and tug. The slide of cock on cock ached and hurt and felt far too good.
It didn't take long before Harry came. This time, Harry didn't bite down on his lip or his tongue or his hand. Instead, Harry cried out the word he'd suppressed for so long.
The cry of "Draco!" broke from his lips as he spilled onto his clasped hands. Using his own fluids as a lubricant, Harry persisted with fisting Draco's cock until Draco, too, came. Hearing his name spill from those lips at that moment made Harry's heart race even faster than before.
The moment slid on as they stared at one another. It slowly became uncomfortable, physically and emotionally, as their fluids started to dry. With slow deliberate gestures, Harry brought one of his hands to his mouth. Licking and sucking, he slowly cleaned off the combined mess.
"I've missed the taste of you," he whispered. Harry felt a shiver race across Draco's body.
"This doesn't solve anything, Harry. This doesn't fix anything." Draco shook his head as he unhooked his legs and slid down Harry's body. His softening prick ached when Draco's flesh skimmed across it.
"Where did we go wrong, Draco?" Harry whispered as he leaned his forehead to touch Draco's. They stood like that as the question hung in the air between them.
"It just died, Harry." The fact that Draco didn't move his head away or force Harry to back off encouraged Harry to press his luck.
"Maybe it didn't die. Maybe it just needed some time and attention. I'm willing to try, Draco. Maybe it’s not over." Harry closed his eyes as he waited for Draco's response.
"I don't know, Harry. It hurt when I watched you pack without even trying to talk to me. If you weren't willing to try then, why would it be any different this time?" Was that fear in Draco's voice, Harry wondered?
"I've missed you, Draco. I've felt empty. I denied your requests, hoping that you'd come down here and spar with me, talk to me." Harry hadn't meant to admit that.
"What about your parade of lovers? How empty could you be if you were fucking anything that walked on two legs and had a dick?" There was definitely hurt in Draco's voice. Once more, Harry was encouraged to continue.
"Do you see this?" Harry pulled back from Draco's face so that he could show him his hand.
"This right here, do you see it?" Harry pointed to a series of small scars on his thumb as he spoke. Draco nodded. "That's from biting my hand to keep from calling your name. I bit my tongue, my lip, my cheek, anything to keep from calling your name when I was with those other people. I denied it to myself, of course. But it was to keep from calling your name.
"When I called your name just now, I finally felt complete. I felt alive and I haven't felt that way since we were together."
Draco merely nodded before he moved away. Harry watched, silent and unsure, as Draco gathered his clothes and dressed. A shake of his head was his only acknowledgement of the destruction of his shirt. A quick spell and the shirt was put right again.
"Where are you going? Why aren't you saying anything?" Harry grabbed Draco's shoulder.
"Dinner at the flat, seven tonight. I expect my requests to be approved from here on out. You don't need to play games to make me pay attention to you." The touch of Draco's hand on his as he lifted it off his shoulder made Harry shudder.
"I'll be there."
It wasn't a promise of forever or even complete reconciliation, but it was enough that he would be with Draco on Valentine's Day. There was a chance. It wasn’t over.
As always, commentary and concrit welcomed with open arms.
