Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Muggle Technology and Heroism	By : Tommy-Lane Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 6913 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of its characters and I am not making any money off of this.

Chapter List
- 8
- 9
- 10
Harry knew exactly why Ron was grimacing at him with his blue eyes narrowed and nose wrinkled like he had smelled something foul drift by. It was oddly comical looking, his lips twitching like he was having a hard time deciding if he was disgusted or relieved or annoyed or happy...maybe all of the above. But regardless of the moods switching over his ruddy face, Harry knew exactly why.

It was because he looked like a lunatic.

It was the smile, the stupid, sloppy, lovesick, dripping, sugary sweet smile that was overtaking his entire face. But he couldn't help it because Merlin...why should he even try? Not when he was this blissfully happy. Not when he could still recall the scent of sex and Draco's cologne on his bedsheets when he had stirred awake that morning. When he'd blinked his groggy eyes open to see the fuzzy shape of what Harry found out moments later was a pink pig Post-it note stuck to a mug of steaming coffee on his bedside table after shoving his glasses onto his nose.

His damn smile grew just thinking about it as he slipped his hand into his pocket and thumbed the edge of the note. It hadn't been as good as waking up to a disheveled, naked, Draco Malfoy (like he had been hoping and planning in the muddle of his sleeping mind) but it was a decent second, because if nothing else, it confirmed that it was real. That it had happened and that he hadn't fallen off the deep end and was now pathetically wrapped up in his own hallucinations. Still, regardless of the note, he had called out Draco's name and glanced around with the vain hope that the blonde would pop his head in and they could spend the morning shagging. When nothing happened he'd picked up the note and laid back on the pillow that smelt like the other man and felt a warmth spread throughout his entire body with Draco's touch still humming through his veins as he had read the neatly printed words.

Harry,

I have somethings that I need to take care of but I'll be home early this evening. Dinner?

-Draco

There was something scratched out at the bottom, a single line that Draco had scribbled over repeatedly with one of the blue pens he'd bought last year (a whole box of them because apparently, "Their brilliant! Why the fuck are we still using quills and ink when all you have to do is click and write? I mean hell Potter, their self-inking!"). Harry had tried and failed to read it numerous times - while in bed, while drinking his coffee, while eating his breakfast - but it was all for not. Whatever the blonde had thought to write and then wished he could have taken back before ink had touched paper was to remain a pricking mystery.

His mind today was much too active for such a mystery.

It was spinning with the memory of last night. Filled to the brink with Draco's skin, smooth and porcelain, with Draco's taste, musky and warm and minty, with his sounds, pitched low and deep, with the cadence of his name falling from Draco's lips over and over again. He kept thinking about how after they'd caught their breath Draco had kissed him slowly, tenderly, with their legs entwined and arms holding tight until he couldn't recall anything outside of the taste and feel of the other man. How he just kept moving his lips over his until they were barely even kissing anymore, but simply exchanging soft sighs with gentle brushes until sleep had claimed them in gentle waves that lulled him under with Draco's pulse beneath his fingertips.

"You look deranged." Ron announced, pointing a finger at Harry's chest and narrowing one eye further.

Hermione scoffed and poured them all a second cup of tea. "He looks happy Ronald."

"I think you mean manic. Can someone be manically happy? Because if so then yes, Harry, you do look manically happy." Ron tipped his head and glanced at his wife who clicked her tongue and shook her head, her thick hair falling into her face and partially obscuring her smile.

Harry chuckled and dropped a dollop of milk into his tea. "Not manic. Just really, really happy." He clarified, the warmth in the pit of his stomach that had settled there the moment he'd woken up that morning still curling tight in his stomach, making him feel fuzzy around the edges and yes...okay, maybe a bit deliriously happy. Was that close to manic?

Hermione grinned at him and brushed her hair back, her fingers combing through the knots quickly as she tied it up with a flick of her wrist. "Of course you are, you should be! Now out with it, I want all the details."

"No." Ron shook his head quickly, his teacup rattling on the table as he turned quickly to face Harry. "No. No details. Don't you dare."

"Oh honestly Ron calm down, I didn't mean those kind of details, I'm sure there's plenty for Harry to share that are safe to talk about around Hugo and your delicate sensibilities. Aren't there Harry?" Her chin fell down onto her fist, her elbow propped up on the table and her large brown eyes staring at him like she could suck out every last word they'd exchanged last night straight from his skull.

"Er..."

"Hey, I don't have delicate sensibilities!" Ron interjected as Harry blushed and stared down into his muddy brown tea.

"Oh Harry." Hermione started, ignoring her husband with a dismissive wave of her hand. "Tell me you two actually talked. At least a little?"

"Well, yeah, I mean...I told him I wanted to be with him." Harry smiled, shifting on the plush chair and sliding his gaze over to find Hugo who was trying relentlessly to force open the low cupboard door that his parents had spelled shut.

"And?" She pressed.

"Their men Hermione. How much talking do you think they got done after Harry fawned all over him and spilled his bleeding heart love all over the place?"

"I did not fawn and what do you mean bleeding heart love? That's not even a thing."

"It is with you." Ron snickered and Harry debated wadding up and throwing the note in his pocket at his head. But then...well then he wouldn't have it anymore and Harry sort of planned to keep it. Probably forever. God, maybe Ron should have called his love possessive, head over heels, can't imagine ever letting go, kind of want to die holding his hand like in those horrible romance novels that he may or may not have read once or twice...but only because Pansy had left them lying about and he'd been bored and then...well the men were a bit hunky in them.

Ugh, he could never tell Draco (or worse, Ron) he'd read them. Or that he'd thought the word hunky an appropriate adjective.

"Okay, wait, are you seriously telling me you didn't talk about anything? You just -"

"Fucked."

"Ron! Language." Hermione scolded, her large eyes glancing quickly to her young son, her gaze boring into him for a long moment like she was waiting to see if his first word would be fucked! and therefore damaged for life. Hugo banged his little fist against the wood and babbled nonsense and Hermione slowly turned back towards the table to fix him with a stare as Harry tried not to smile.

"But we will, we'll talk, we're having dinner tonight." Harry felt obligated to point out, that hot pool in his stomach twisting up further at the thought of seeing the other man again. The night couldn't come fast enough.

"You mean, you're having dinner together...like you do all the time?" Ron asked, looking pointedly between his wife and friend, like he was waiting for them to realize the same thing he had.

"That's wonderful! You should cook." Hermione beamed at him and Harry couldn't help but grin broadly in that deranged, manic sort of way that Ron obviously thought was beyond creepy.

"You mean, like he does every night?" Ron raised his voice a little, his gaze shifting quickly between the other two seated at the table now.

"Make it special, candles and such. Do you have candles? And wine, oh and use that tablecloth I got you for your house warming." She had that far off look in her eye again, mentally planning out his evening, his date. Merlin, his date, his first actual date with Draco.

"Yeah, I think so." Harry couldn't help but nod right along with her, swept up in the thoughts rolling into his head now - about flickering candle light and red wine and a nice dinner and Draco sitting across from him. Maybe holding his hand. Maybe kissing the back of his neck as they washed up...kissing his throat, his lips, his pale hands deftly making him come undone right there in the middle of their kitchen.

"I repeat. Like every night? Seriously can no one hear me?" Ron asked exasperated, Hugo's sharp giggle ringing right along behind him like he was trying to agree with his logic.

"It's different now Ron." She informed him and Harry bit his lip as her words sunk into him as well with a sudden sharpness.

Different.

Merlin that was an understatement and for the first time Harry felt a stirring of nervousness cool the warmth inside him. Because hell, she was right, they hadn't actually talked and Draco hadn't...he hadn't said anything. In fact he had been uncharacteristically quiet, oddly still tongued, and while Harry liked to think it was because he had been so wrapped up in their physical coupling he couldn't be sure.

Fuck, he didn't want to be anxious about tonight, he didn't want to doubt. He wanted to stay in that warm, fuzzy place that Draco's body and kiss had sent him spiraling into. He didn't want to consider the possibility that it was only for one night. That it was just a fling. A spur of the moment mistake.

He thumbed the note in his pocket and closed his eyes, telling himself to stop over thinking it, to stop prying apart their time together, to stop frantically trying to recall anything that might tip him off to the fact that he was about to his have his heart shattered.

"Harry?" Hermione's tone was soft, quiet.

"Everything all right mate?" Ron's too. Both of them suddenly haven dropped an octave and Harry knew his thoughts must be showing on his face, turning his lips down and making him appear ashen.

"Yeah, of course." Harry forced a smile and glanced back up at them, his hand crushing the note in his palm as he told himself not to over think the moment Draco had paused and quieted and nearly killed his pillow with his grip...or about the salty taste of his lips after.

****

Pasta seemed romantic. For some reason. Harry wasn't exactly sure why but it did and thus, he was making pasta with garlic bread and sautéed mixed vegetables - a bottle of wine already uncorked and set to breathe on the table. Harry glanced back at it, at their kitchen table covered in the ivory tablecloth with the permanent wrinkles artfully set into it draping over the wood, the two tall candles flickering in the middle, the plates already set and waiting.

It was too much. Was it? Hell, he didn't know.

"It's already done, just leave it alone." He muttered to himself, turning back to the hob and flipping the veggies with a quick jerk of the pan. The tricky part was timing, he didn't know when Draco would be home, what exactly early evening meant but he had already cleaned the entire flat and gone grocery shopping and he was going to jump out of his skin if he didn't have anything else to occupy his mind and reading and watching the telly hadn't helped one little bit.

So now dinner was nearly finished and the clock had just struck five and Harry was trying to figure out how best to keep all the food in prime condition as the floo flared and nearly startled him into spilling the entire pan of sizzling vegetables. He took a deep breath and held it as he listened to the even paced footsteps of his flatmate, the little squeak of the floorboard just outside the kitchen archway, the pause and hesitant step forward a moment later. It was a bit ridiculous really, he hunted down and captured evil wizards and witches all the time, willingly stepping into life threatening situations more often than anyone would think, and he was always calm, collected, and sure of himself during it. But now he wasn't any of those things, he was just fucking nervous.

Like hand shaking on the handle of the cast iron pan nervous.

"Harry."

Something squeezed his heart, sharp and hot and like it was going to jump right of him and attack the poor man at just the sound of his voice saying his name. Merlin, could someone actually develop some weird fetish with hearing their own name? Because if so, Harry was sure Draco had that ability to trigger it. Extinguishing the flame and moving the pan to a cooler portion of the hob, Harry turned, unsure what exactly his first words after seeing the man again after having slept with him should be.

"Hi." He said and mentally smacked himself. Why did that sound so lame?

Draco stood just inside the kitchen archway, his long black robes falling elegantly over his thin frame, his hair twisted back and styled neatly - primly, like he'd been in some important meeting with witches and wizards who lived their lives dripping with money. It was odd seeing him look like that, he rarely ever did anymore. But then a small smile twitched his lips up, breaking the hardness of his appearance, and Harry felt his insides melt into a puddle of goo. "Hi." Draco replied softly.

"I made dinner." Harry blurted out, trying and failing to stave off the blush rising up his neck and fanning out across his cheeks.

Draco's smile widened into a smirk as his gaze flickered to the table and back to him. "I can see that."

"Are you hungry? I wasn't sure when you'd be back, your note was rather...short, and...where did you go?" He hoped he didn't sound as nervous as he felt, his fingers twisting into the kitchen towel hanging off the handle of the hob behind him.

"Yes, I..." Draco eyes darted down to his shoes poking out from beneath his robes - black boots with silver buckles that matched the ones holding his robes together. When he looked up Harry couldn't decide if he looked harder or softer, if he looked happy or about to shut down, and when he took three steps towards him, Harry felt like all the air was getting sucked out of the room. "I was at the Manor, visiting my mother."

His mother? Well...that was unexpected.

Harry had assumed it had to do with his shop, the blonde unable to go any longer on checking in on the progress Stephen had made with the cleanup. He had hoped that it had to do with Ethan, that he had met with the man to tell him that he wasn't going to be getting back together with him. Ever. But why the hell did he need to rush out of bed to meet with his mother?

Though that explained the outfit at least...

"Your mum? Is everything alright?" He asked, taking his own step towards him until they were exactly one pace away from each other, their arms both hanging useless by their respective sides. Merlin, he couldn't remember the last time he had been this nervous around someone, especially around Draco - not like this at least, not like his body wasn't sure if he should fall forwards into elation or start building up shields around his already over invested heart.

But Draco was smiling still. Small and perhaps a bit sad. But still, it was there, and Harry stared at it with hope simmering hot inside him.

"Yes, mostly. Sorry." Draco said softly and he bit his lip before letting out a sigh and reaching forward with a jerky movement to tangle his fingers through Harry's - his simple touch hot and electric. "For leaving...before you woke."

"It’s okay." Harry smiled and squeezed his hand tightly as they stared at each other quietly.

And then they were kissing and Harry couldn't be sure who made the first move but it hardly mattered as Draco's arms slipped around his waist, crushing him into his chest as he stole his air and slipped his tongue between his lips. It was that world titling feeling all over again, his stomach flipping and heart racing with silky hair slipping through his fingers as he wound his arms around Draco's neck to try and pull him nearer.

"Harry...we need to talk." Draco murmured breathlessly with his lips still brushing against Harry's, his hands grasping the small of his back tightly with palms that burned Harry even through his shirt.

"Yeah." Harry nodded, playing with the small hairs at the base of Draco's skull, his mouth already fully sealing against the blondes again. Fuck, but how were they ever supposed to have a full conversation now that Harry knew what kissing Draco felt like, what it did to him, what it made him feel. If there was a way to bottle the elation and warmth and nervous excitement coursing through him, he knew he could sell it for a fortune, that the world could get drunk on it.

He spared a single thought for the pasta growing cold in the dish by the hob before was he pushing his hands down Draco's back, hauling him against him and lifting his chin as he cocked his head back and kissed him harder. Then Draco was grasping his backside, squeezing his arse and rubbing against him with a muffled groan on his tongue and Harry forgot all about his dinner and how he promised Hermione that they'd spend at least the majority of the evening vertical and conversing.

He moaned as his fingers quickly found the clasps holding Draco's robes together, tugging on the black leather and silver buckles, desperate to get to his skin beneath, to spread it open and feel his heat snug against him...inside him.

Fucking inside him.

Just the thought of it left him achingly hard with his mouth greedily stealing Draco's words from his tongue before he could speak them. With a wave of his hand, the dishes and candles and wine resting on the table lifted into the air and whizzed over to the counter, setting themselves down with a rattle as Harry walked himself backwards - dragging Draco with him by his undone clasps with their kiss keeping him terribly dizzy. The back of his thighs hit the table and Draco wobbled against him, his palm connecting with the wood sharply as Harry slid back onto it, the tablecloth bunching up under him as he pulled on the clasp and dragged Draco over him.

"Harry, wait." He whispered, out of breath and flushed, hair no longer slicked back and strict but falling in chunks about his face, hanging free in the aftermath of Harry's slipping fingers. "I need to...I need to tell you something."

"Tell me after." He grinned seductively, kissing his neck and pushing his hands apart, his fingers drawing the black fabric aside until he could push them off the other man's shoulders - revealing the silky white button-up beneath that fit him like a second skin.

"You're not making this easy." Draco cursed, gasping as Harry tugged the shirttails from his trousers and slipped his hands up against his naked chest.

"I'm being very easy actually." Harry hummed, sucking on his collar and hooking his ankles around the back of Draco's legs.

"That's not what I meant." Draco grunted, his arms moving to comply with Harry's wishes as the black haired man plucked two buttons free and pulled his shirt up over his head and dropped it to the floor. "This is important."

Harry could tell that Draco was trying to sound stern, using his finally cultivated Malfoy drawl, but it came out too breathy and broken and his hands were on Harry's thighs, moving up to his hips, pushing up his shirt, and lifting his chin to meet his kiss. He felt those cool fingers on his stomach, inching up his chest, rubbing over his nipple as he sucked on his tongue with his own hands quickly working open the man's fly. "So is you fucking me." Harry nipped at his bottom lip and thrust his hand down the man's trousers, feeling the weight of his cock against his palm in a whole new light.

Last night he had been so caught up in drinking in all the new planes of Draco's body that he could, memorizing every little detail and trying his best to taste everything he could. But now, now all he could think about was having the heavy prick inside him, to feel the hardness filling up his hand forcing him apart. He felt drunk on just the sensations rushing through him in anticipation of laying back on the hard table and being speared by it. "God Draco, right now. Fuck me right now." He repeated, squeezing the man's cock and pulling on it in quick tugs as it grew harder.

Draco groaned and cupped his cheeks, pressing their mouths together in a needy kiss. "Okay, wait...Harry...just wait." He broke away, his breath coming in sharp pants as he rested his forehead against Harry's. "I have to tell you."

There was something about the way Draco said it that finally cracked through the thick heady fog covering him, that pricked at his brain with that uncertainty that had plagued him since his visit to Ron and Hermione's and that had disappeared like it had been nothing but a foolish fleeting wisp when Draco caught him up in a kiss. He didn't want to hear it, whatever it was, didn't want to face that uncertainty again, didn't want to hear anything that had even the slightest chance of ruining this perfect bubble he was in. He had no desire to listen to anything that would take Draco out of his arms.

Did that make him foolish? Reckless? Did the fact that he wanted to hide from even a slim possibility that whatever he was going to say was something heartbreaking? Maybe he was wrong anyway. Maybe it would be something good...maybe...

Draco looked undone with his palms planted on the tabletop and head inching back a fraction so Harry could see him properly. He looked like he had crumbled under his own walls and stood before him as someone different, like he was looking out at him from eyes that Harry knew so very well but couldn't read, couldn't decipher what his gaze held. He looked like the prim man that his parents had tried to cultivate but shaken down to his bones, like he was breaking free from it all over again, a rawer version of when Harry first started seeing Draco again after the war - when his blonde hair was cut drastically short, his shirts tailored but muggle cut, his hand free of the ring that Harry had gotten used to seeing on his finger with the Malfoy crest on it. When he fumbled with muggle money and ordered coffee all wrong and kept forgetting not to mutter spells under his breath while in mixed company.

A pureblood awkwardly and determinedly stepping out from the role he'd been bred to live.

He was breathtakingly beautiful in the mess of conflict on his face.

Harry ran his finger over Draco's sharp jaw, slipped his hand through his slick hair, and pressed a kiss to his open lips. "You look..." He trailed off and fingered his hair that felt oddly heavy, not as soft and pliant has it had been last night or during the times the man had lain his head against his shoulder during a movie with it tickling his chin and neck. There was undeniable lust in those gray eyes that stared heavily into him. Lust and need. Desire that shone sharp and clear. Draco wanted him and Harry needed him and in that moment that was all Harry cared to think about. That was all he decided to let matter. “I want you inside me." He said quietly, capturing Draco's broken moan with his lips.

Draco crushed him against his chest and Harry clung to him just as tightly as they kissed frantically, the intensity spilling from Draco's lips and touch a sudden flood that pulled him under and held him down - like the man had been unknowingly waiting and holding back until that very moment. They scrambled with each other’s clothes, the fabric spilling at their feet and thrown haphazardly across the table, and Draco was saying his name in that tortured way again as he was dragged down to the cold tile floor. He let out a squawk of surprise that turned into a long groan as Draco pushed his legs apart and slid down his body - kissing his chest and stomach, his fingers tracing down the length of his side.

"Fuck Harry." Draco's breath ghosted over his prick lying hard against his stomach. "Tell me to stop." He whispered and Harry let out a laughing cry that sounded off pitch and shrill to his own ears, his blood pumping so thick through his ears that he could barely hear or see straight as Draco's finger pressed against his opening.

"Draco." He whined, his hands reaching down to thread through his blonde hair, a gasp leaving his lips as the other man opened his mouth and sucked his cock suddenly into overwhelming wet warmth at the same moment his finger slipped past his muscles and into him. He struggled to breathe as pleasure rushed over him and he wondered fleetingly if it was possible to drown in this sort of torture, the kind of sensations holding him under making his bones turn to jelly as his heart pounded in his ears. He felt the burn of Draco's finger moving inside him, slowly pumping as he sucked him, and Harry couldn't help but wiggle against it, blinding seeking more. More. More.

He was pretty sure he was garbling nonsense as he felt the burn stretch and grow as the thickness inside him increased and Draco's tongue drove him mad. Then the fingers inside him (two? three?) jabbed and hit just the right spot and Harry jerked, crying out loudly and seeing white. He tumbled downhill from there, lost in wave after wave, swimming through it with gasps of air and cries of Draco's name, his hand clawing at silky hair gone grimy with gel and against the cold tile. He tried to tell him that he was close, that he should stop, that he didn't want to tumble over the edge without feeling his cock buried inside him but it was too late.

Draco swallowed him nearly whole, pumped his fingers in and out of him - fingering and blowing him like there was nothing he'd rather be doing, and Harry's entire body tensed as he lost it. He spilled down the other man's throat with his hole clenching tight around his fingers. He melted boneless into the floor as the last wave rushed over him. He lay panting, blinking quickly in hopes to get his vision to stop spinning round, dimly away that he was twitching as Draco licked him clean, his fingers slowing, pumping gently, leaving his body gingerly. Reluctantly.

"I wanted..." Harry panted, swallowed thickly and tried to formulate the words he wanted to say as he grinned stupidly at nothing.

"I know." Draco murmured quietly, pressing a lingering kiss to his hip before pulling back from him, his hand carding through his hair after wiping his mouth on his shoulder - Harry's eyes tracking each movement before dropping down his body and focusing on the fact that one of his hands was covered in cum. And it wasn't Harry's. The mess disappeared like it had never been there a second later with a muttered spell and a blush on Draco's flushed cheeks.

Struggling up into a sitting position, Harry reached out and drew the other man close, breathing in his scent, the sharpness of their activities clinging to him as Harry pressed a kiss to his mouth. "Mhmm. You skipped a step." He hummed as he pulled back, a smile on his lips. "You'll have to rectify that."

"Harry." Draco sighed heavily, touching the back of his hand that Harry had placed against the blonde's cheek. "Look, I...I shouldn't have done this."

"Yeah, fucking usually involves something bigger than fingers."

"I'm serious...Harry...shit." Draco closed his eyes tight and pushed out of his embrace, rising on unsteady feet and snatching his trousers up from the floor. "Please just...get dressed, okay?"

Cold seeped through the heat burning inside him at the tired resignation of Draco's tone and Harry blinked quickly to keep himself grounded. "Yeah, alright." He nodded as Draco shrugged his shirt back on, his eyes avoiding Harry's as he stood and reached for his own clothes, a slight nausea settling in his stomach and squeezing in his throat. He told himself not to panic as he zipped his fly and struggled his shirt over his head but fuck...when did anything good ever come after words like that?

Rubbing a hand vigorously over his face, Harry's breath caught and hitched as Draco snatched his wrist between his fingers, holding him tight and staring at him with those unreadable eyes. "Draco -"

Draco bent and kissed him, swiftly and deeply, his wrist bending in the unbearably tight grasp. It was over before he knew it, his feet stumbling a step as Draco released him and backed up quickly. "Right...so just...sit here." He gestured to one of the kitchen chairs and considering the fact that Harry wasn't entirely sure his knees weren't about to give out at any moment, he sunk readily down into it without so much as a word. "Good...and I'll..." He trailed off and stared down at Harry, his hand twitching at his side. "Yes, I'll sit over here." He moved quickly around the table, putting the length of wood between them and Harry couldn't help but smile a little at his uncharacteristically twitchy actions.

And the not so subtle fact that Draco needed a table between them in order to stop kissing him.

"So what did you want to tell me?" Harry asked after taking a deep breath and gathering his courage, a corner of his mind reassuring him that it surely couldn't be that bad. Draco wanted him. It was clear as day. It was obvious in his kiss and touch and the fact that he was staring at his mouth even now from across the table. He bit the corner of his lip and smiled.

Draco looked down at his hands clasped together on the table. "I don't...I don't quite know how to say this." He started, voice quiet and even pitched, like he was desperately trying to detach from the situation. "I should have told you that night in the pub...I should have told you so many times." He sighed heavily and dragged a hand through his hair, grasping the back of his neck tightly. "I was going to, yesterday, at the tailors but then..."

"Draco." Harry reached across the table and covered the hand lying there with his own. "Just tell me."

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have..." He pulled his hand free from Harry's, dropping it into his lap. "I should have stopped, but I...I couldn't."

Harry felt his heart slow, a deep steady thump that punctuated the stillness around them as Draco trailed off and tensed his jaw. "Draco...you're making me nervous." He was actually scaring him, terrifying him. Somehow this stuttering conversation that didn't seem to be heading anywhere good was more horrifying than any dark situation he'd ever encountered at work.

"You're right about us, I...I want to be with you. I mean, hell Harry, I want to be with you." Draco started up again, the words somehow sounding like a fleeting line of false hope even as it lit a spark in Harry's chest, a spark he knew he shouldn't trust, shouldn't cling to but did anyway. "But I can't."

And there it was. He can't. Can't.

Harry swallowed through his aching, dry throat, his chest heaving as he tried to calm the torrent rising inside him that made moisture prick behind his eyes. "Why? Why can't you? Because - fuck Draco, whatever is, I'm sure we can figure it out. If we both want this then we can figure it out, we -"

"Harry." Draco cut him off, his voice sad and tired, his eyes void as he lifted them to meet Harry's watering ones. "I'm betrothed. I'm getting married...right after my thirtieth birthday."

Harry's ears rang, the other man's words flying through his head as he stared dumbstruck. But they were words that didn't make any sense, that couldn't hold the meaning Harry knew they were supposed to. He felt like he couldn't catch onto any of it even as his heart broke and spilled a drop down his cheek.

How could he be betrothed? How could he possibly be getting married when all he'd had over the past few years were useless flings? Unless...fuck was he actually going to marry Ethan? How could he...his thirtieth? That was in two years - what the fuck?

"Betrothed?" He breathed, his hand curling into a fist on the table as he tried to keep from hyperventilating.

Draco nodded.

"To who?" He demanded, his voice rising a little, hurt crushing against his chest and threatening to spill over into all-consuming pain. He clung to the anger that he could feel simmering low inside him, an anger that felt blinding and yet hollow like he couldn't even reason why he was so furious but it was there - quiet for the time being but Harry clutched at it because the pain was worse, the pain would crumble him completely.

"Pansy. The contract was written up last year."

A memory hit him like a bludger in the stomach, of Draco coming home from his parents, irritated and disjointed and practically crawling out of his own skin. The night he paced the flat and found Harry on the couch, the night he didn't say anything but instead just laid down with him until he fell asleep. Draco had been off the entire week after and Harry had chalked it up to him just seeing his parents again, of his mother and father nagging him to veer back onto the path they wanted him to.

"You're marrying Pansy?" He whispered, feeling like he was icing over, cold and numb with frozen tears in his eyes just waiting to rain down his cheeks. "I don't - why?"

"The Malfoy line..." Draco trailed off and cleared his throat, his voice having gone tight and constricted. "I need an heir."

Children. This was all about children. Draco was going to marry a woman when he wasn't even remotely attracted to them just so he could sire a child. He was going to give up on what they could have just for a fucking name! And he didn't even want children, he'd said so, he'd said that he'd...oh god this was why he was at his mother's...was he trying to get out of it? Was he trying to find a loop hole? Had he fled Harry's bed early that morning only to go and find out that there was none?

He was going to be sick.

"You don't want children." Harry shot back at him, blinking away the sudden fuzziness in his vision and ignoring the wet slide that dripped off his chin.

"Of course I don't! Children mean...bloody hell Harry they mean the end of all of this." He waved his hand in the air, encompassing himself and Harry and their flat in the single gesture. "But I have a duty -"

"Fuck duty!" Harry hollered, rising so quickly from his chair he nearly managed to upturn it. He marched round the table as Draco scrambled up and backed away from him, his eyes wide and wild and broken. "What about us? Do we not count for anything? I mean, god Draco you're not even giving us time. You're saying no before we even get a chance!"

"Harry, don't." Draco whispered, closing his eyes tightly. "I have to marry her, I have to produce an heir, and I can't...I can't ask you to wait for me, I don't want to ask that of you, and I can't...I can't do this if I know you -"

"Want you?" Harry filled in for him, capturing his hand and tugging him nearer, Draco's own wrecked emotions throwing him off balance and making it easier than it should have been. "Need you? Because I do Draco, god I need you so much." He cupped his face and brushed a tear away with his thumb as he ignored the ones on his own cheeks. "I need you." He whispered again, swallowing a deeper confession of love as he pressed his forehead against his and stole a chaste kiss. "Please...don't do this."

"It's done, Harry." Draco's voice was so quiet he could barely hear him, his chest stuttering as he struggled with his own breath. "And I looked..." he reached up and cupped Harry's face, pressing in for a kiss that he turned from at the last moment - their noses bumping as Draco breathed against his cheek. "But I can't...there isn't a way."

"Draco, don't -" Harry sobbed and reached for him as Draco stepped quickly away. "Don't."

"I'm sorry." He whispered softly as he gathered himself to his full height and blinked at him, the single red line of the one tear that had managed to escape without his consent standing out starkly on his complexion. He was a mess, disheveled from head to toe, standing in his fine clothes with his socks and shoes missing and red ringed eyes that he refused to let leak any further. "I should go...I am sorry, Harry."

And that was it, Harry stepped forward to tug him back into his arms and try to knock some sense into him but the other man was already spinning and popping away - leaving him standing in their empty flat with his heart breaking and face soaked with stinging tears.

A/N: So freakin long chapter! And before you all start hurling rotten vegetables at me and Draco just know that there’s going to be a lot more answers and explanation next chapter – the boys just need to cool down a bit :)

Hestia: yeah, it really was a long time coming wasn't it? And as you can see your right in a way, Draco does love him but there's more than just fear of rejection that had kept them apart. Thank you for reading and commeting!

Annecia89: Thank you so very much! Hope you enjoyed the update even with the bomb of a confession ;)

Anon (whoever you may be lol): Thank you so very much, what a wonderful compliment! Hope you enjoyed this new chapter

SP777: Becuase you either know me very well or are very good at reading between the lines...hope you didn't break anything majoy in your fall
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