Disclaimers: I own nothing in the wondrous world of Harry Potter. If I did, I wouldn’t be the poor college student I am.

Warnings: SLASH! MalexMale sex! Don’t like gay pairings, don’t read it! Please don’t bitch to me, I’ve made it clear. OOCness is a given.

Notes: This fic is non-magic, AU. It worked best this way. I completely dreamed this idea, forgot everything besides the fact that Draco looked sexy, and had to have help re-plotting it. Huge thank yous and hugs to Clover-chan for telling me what the idea was, and what it should be, and Dark Nuriko for editing and helping me make a newer, better ending. And now…the story:

A Lover’s Passion

“Passion. It’s all about the passion you have inside of you. A passion for art, for life, for… love. Without passion, you shouldn’t even try to be an artist.”

Draco Malfoy lectured, addressing his class of art students. “You are all here because you have that passion. I’ve seen it myself. In your work, in yourselves. Believe me; if you didn’t even have half the passion needed, you wouldn’t even be sitting in this room.” He paused, seemingly to gather his thoughts, but he knew exactly what he was saying.

“You have to treat your art like a lover. Of course, this is easiest with sculpture; but you have to put your passion and love into all your art, like you would with a lover.” He stopped his wandering, considering the side wall of the room. Moving closer, he pressed his front against the cool wall, his face turned to most of the class, every part of him plastered to the wall.

“You have to feel it. Deep inside you. Touch it, the lines, the curves, and memorize them like you would the lines and curves of your lover.” He accentuated this by running the palm of his hand up the wall, tracing his fingertips over the lines of the brick.

Only Draco Malfoy could make a wall look that sexual and turn on every single one of his students at the same time.

The sizzling sexual tension was shattered to the disappointment of everyone when the classroom door burst open, revealing a more-than-usual disheveled Harry Potter. Draco pushed himself away from the wall.

“Nice of you to finally join us Mr. Potter. Have a run-in with a tornado did we?” He asked; taking in Harry’s even messier than usual hair, coffee stained white t-shirt, mud streaked leather jacket, and torn jeans. Draco was surprised. Usually Potter dressed fairly nicely. Not as well as himself of course, but not like he lived on the streets and this was his last day on earth.

“Sorry sir. Had a little bit of bad luck this morning.”

“More than a little.” Someone snickered in the class.

Draco ignored them. “Well, at least you showed up. You can help with my demonstration.” Draco said before turning back to his other students. “New page. We’ll do a more sensual pose today, so you can capture both kinds of passion; the one for art and the one for a lover.”

The rustle of pages was heard as Draco walked over to a low backless couch in the center of the semi circle of easels. Stripping off his black turtle neck, Draco beckoned to Harry. “Take off your clothes Mr. Potter. They can’t draw what you’re wearing.”

Harry blushed, but shrugged out of his jacket and pulled his shirt over his head anyways. Draco lay back on the couch, resting on his elbows, one knee bent up and the other stretched out. “Now. You need to put both your arms on either side of my waist, here,” He placed Harry’s hands where he wanted them. “Rest your knee here, between my thighs. And the other one, on the outside of my leg.”

Once they both were positioned to Draco’s satisfaction, he told the class to begin drawing, and to make sure they got all sides of them, or else the statue they would be making from the sketches wouldn’t turn out.

The class started sketching hesitantly, thinking that Malfoy would have chosen a female from the class to help this demonstration. It just made a little more sense for a pose that was to suggest the two were lovers. Of course, they had nothing against Harry, but they were fairly certain that he and the teacher were not lovers at all, so it might be a little difficult to capture the right look and feel that was needed.

Harry too wondered why he had been chosen for this particular pose. He could see maybe staying after class to help clean up, seeing as he had come in so late, but this was a little ridiculous. He had caught the last little bit of Draco’s lesson, and definitely would have thought that someone more female from the class would have been chosen. Like Dania. She always made it very clear that she wanted into Draco’s bed. And everyone knew she had yet to succeed. But this would have been the perfect opportunity for her to volunteer to pose and to try and work her charms. But a quick glance around the room confirmed that she herself was absent today, hence why she wasn’t protesting this arrangement or pouting in a corner.

“Erm, Sir?” A hesitant someone finally spoke up from the right side of the class. “Don’t you… Don’t you think that someone else should be used in the demonstration?”

Draco turned his head in the direction of the student. “And why would I want that, Mr. Lendron? Is there something wrong with having two males demonstrate a position that evokes passion between the two?”

“N-No, but for a traditional work…” the student trailed off.

“Why should all art be done in a traditional sense? Don’t you think that gets boring? Wouldn’t you want to do something new? Maybe something that might spark something, an interesting ideal or concept? Something people will be intrigued by?” Draco questioned, trying to get something out of the boy. “Very well. Since you feel so strongly about this, you can leave now. Take it home and draw your own lover in a position with another man. I’m sure you would be much happier drawing her, than Mr. Potter here.”

“B-but! I-I couldn’t…!” The student protested, flustered that he had so suddenly become the center of everything.

“Then leave now. If you can’t do something as simple as drawing two naked – or half naked- people, then I was wrong and you shouldn’t be here. Go on. Leave. And don’t come back next week. I don’t wish to teach you art any more. It’s a waste of my time and talent.” Draco spoke harshly, used to this sort of thing coming from his students in the past. The twenty-five year old was tired of it and of the way the world all thought the same. If someone had something against his methods, they could leave or suck it up and learn that things in the world of art were viewed much differently then they were in the outside world.

The highly embarrassed Mr. Lendron packed up his supplies in a quick hurry and went out the door, another student to never return. Draco sighed, and turned back to Harry. “Anyone else?” He asked.

It seemed that no one else wished to leave or to anger Draco, so the skritch scratch of pencil on paper was soon heard throughout the room. The class soon settled into its usual somber attitude it had when trying to get the subject down just right. A few even left their easels, needing to get a closer look at the way some part of them lay. They sat scattered around the couch, moving around occasionally to get a different view, barely daring to breathe lest they break the atmosphere that surrounded the two in front of them. Somewhere in between Lendron leaving, and shortly after the students started drawing, the two had fallen into the perfect look and somewhat relaxed pose that Draco had wanted them to capture. They managed to look like actual lovers, a different light shining in their eyes, they’re faces mere inches apart, seemingly to have been caught in the perfect breath taking moment before a first kiss is shared. It was quite amazing the way they pulled this off, since they were two people who couldn’t be further from feeling anything in a romantically sexual way for the other at all.

They had been in a school together before. Of course, they both had been students then, not teacher and student, and for 6 years of their lives they despised each other whole heartedly. Draco came from money, and while his deceased parents hadn’t left him hard off, Harry had experienced that side of life in his younger years and did not appreciate it when Malfoy made it painfully obvious to several of the students in their year that you were worthless if you didn’t come from money or your family didn’t have any sort of power over people. Consequently, this left Harry often defending his friends, and constantly getting into fist fights with the other boy, leaving them both a little battered in the private school’s infirmary.

Then, after their 6th year, Draco Malfoy had changed dramatically. He went out of his way to be nice to Harry and try to genuinely become his friend. Harry was wary of him at first, and while he was never able to fully accept this change, he became more open minded towards this new Draco – after a talking down that came from one of his best friends, Hermione, about how now he was beginning to sound like the old Draco.

Later in their 7th year, they learned that Draco’s father had died – while he was in prison for fraud and embezzling. It left his mother broken hearted, and Draco himself had become a little more hardened, the money and power he had so relied upon, gone. Not wanting people to treat him the way he had previously treated others. Harry sympathized with him, and became a lot nicer to him than he had before. They discovered that they actually had quite a bit in common. Like their taste in people. And how it tended towards the male side of the human race.

But they had never actually felt anything towards each other. Sure, both thought the other was extremely nice to look at, and there was much teasing involved on both sides, but it never went beyond that.

They seemed to pull off looking like lovers quite well though. The students sat and drew them in their carefully held positions (Harry knew better than to move) for hours. Some decided to take liberations with their sketches, like not including the pants both indeed wore upon the couch. Others changed the torn jeans and black slacks into leather, complete with collar and leash for a couple. It made you wonder what some of them got up to in their spare time.

Harry quickly got bored after the first hour, and started to look at Draco – really look at him. Not what he’d been doing before. The soft pale skin, the clear grey eyes, the slightly pinked cheeks. So beautiful and perfect looking. Harry had to resist the urge to press his lips to Draco’s, to run his hands over the smooth skin of his lightly muscled chest. He managed it, as difficult as it was, and eventually the hours passed, and students started to leave. They stopped by the couch before packing up, showing Draco their completed sketches to ensure that they had gotten everything down.

Finally it was just one student left, sitting close while she completed the details of their faces.

“How’s it going, Kaliegh?” Draco asked, actually using her first name.

“…Almost got it. Could you… I know I shouldn’t even ask, but… Could you maybe move your face a little closer to Harry’s?”

“Is that a good idea?” He asked in response.

“Well, yes. It would be really helpful. With the way I have it; you need to be just a little bit closer to him.” She explained.

“Alright.” Draco said. As they were already pretty close, he moved just an inch or two closer. Instinctively, Harry leaned down, and their lips met, surprising both at the shock of the contact. They held still for a moment, before Draco pulled away.

“I didn’t actually expect you to kiss him, Harry, but thanks! That was exactly what I wanted!” Kaliegh giggled, gathering up her sketch book and pencils, leaving once she had collected everything.

Finally allowed to move, Harry lifted away from Draco. “I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to kiss you, Draco. Just instinct I guess. Really, I’m sorry.” He kept apologizing, edging off the couch to find his shirt.

“Harry.” Draco put a hand on his shoulder to stop the apologies. “Harry, really, it’s alright. I don’t mind and you don’t have to be so sorry.”

Harry flushed a bright pink. “O-Okay. Um. Have you seen my shirt?”

Draco looked around. ”No.” He sat up, running his hand down Harry’s back as he did so. “You feel tense.” The blond said, scooting closer and working at the knots he felt.

Harry stiffened even more at this contact. What was Draco doing? He worried. What with the thoughts he had started having earlier, he didn’t want this; he just wanted to go home.

“It’s just from holding myself like that for so long. I’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure?” Draco asked, leaning so close, his breath tickled the back of Harry’s neck. “It seems like something else is bothering you. Why were you so late?”

Harry sighed. He had sort of expected this. “Darren broke up with me. I stayed while he packed his stuff and left. I forgot I had your class today, then spilled my coffee when it was too hot. A truck splashed me while I was waiting for the light to change on the corner; then I finally got here.”

“Well. There’s the reason you’re so tense.” Draco said, digging hid thumbs hard into Harry’s shoulders. “Here. Lay down so I can get it properly.” He moved so Harry could lay down on the couch.

Figuring he couldn’t do anything but listen to the other man, Harry lay down and let Draco straddle his hips. It felt good, really nice and calming. Draco fell into the relaxed state too, and after he had worked out the knots in Harry’s back, he moved his hands lower in smooth, gliding strokes. His skin was so soft, and slightly tanned. He had the urge to taste it. And he did. The blonde began pressing small soft kisses along Harry’s spine, lapping at the dips in between the bones.

Harry tensed a little at the new sensation. But he soon found himself shivering, and wiggling his hips a little when it tickled near the waistband of his pants. “Mhmm… Draco… what’re you doing?”

“Kissing you. All of you.” The blonde replied, flipping Harry over so he could reach his stomach.

Harry sucked in his breath as the trail of kisses leading from his side, stopped at his navel where Draco licked and nipped before moving to the other side, then up. The soft spots of attention continued until Draco found his way to Harry’s nipple, which he then blew hotly over until it hardened into a tiny peak. He smirked, and then took it into his mouth, swiping his tongue back and forth over the tip of the peak.

Harry gasped, reaching for Draco. He tangled his fingers in the short blonde hair, holding him close. Draco lifted away when he felt Harry attach himself to him.

“Patience… It’ll get better.” Draco promised, leaning upwards to give the dark haired man a proper kiss. Harry moaned in surprised pleasure, opening his lips just enough to give Draco room to slip his tongue in between them.

Draco dominated the kiss easily, stroking his tongue over the other man’s. Sufficiently distracting Harry there, he reached between them to undo his jeans, tugging the tight denim down over his slim hips. Harry lifted his hips to help the blonde ease them down his legs.

Draco’s breath caught at the sight revealed. Apparently, Harry didn’t always wear underwear. He growled a little at the sight of his half hard cock, then returned his attention the slender hips. He kissed down one side, to the soft inner thigh, nipping tenderly. He moved back on the couch, laving his tongue along the black of Harry’s knee, causing him to shudder and jerk a little at the tickling sensation of his tongue.

“Ahhh… Dr-Draco! S-top! It tickles!” Harry spoke up, twitching in pleasure.

“Shhh. Stop jerking around. I can’t do this properly if you keep moving.” Draco muttered with a frown. He moved away anyways, focusing instead on the dark man’s other leg. He sucked upon the flesh of his thigh, ignoring the moan that came when he once again bypassed the now straining erection.

Eventually, Draco tore his mouth away from the succulent flesh, his gaze focusing on the hard cock in front of him. Smirking lightly, he lowered his blond head over it with much encouragement from Harry. Taking just the tip of the head into his mouth, he blew lightly upon it, before running his tongue across the weeping slit.

Harry gasped, arching his back, trying to get Draco to take him further into his mouth. Draco was having none of that, and only continued to hold him down. He took his sweet time in taking the steel–like hardness into the hot warmth of his mouth, sliding it in carefully down to the base, feeling it bump gently against the back of his throat as he relaxed those muscles. Harry shuddered, feeling his cock become fully engulfed in the wet heat. Slowly, Draco pulled up and away, releasing it with a slight popping noise. He breathed over it, causing the member to twitch in unsatisfied need.

“Draco… please… don’t stop now.” Harry pleaded.

“I don’t intend to.” He promised, before bending back over the dark haired man. Truthfully, Draco wasn’t sure if he’d ever be able to stop. The taste, scent and feel of Harry was so different from every other lover he’d had. It was addicting, intoxicating, and he wondered if he would ever have enough of the other man. And this was only the man’s cock! Imagine the wonders those ruby red lips of his held! It was astounding, and Draco could become drunk from them alone. With this thought, the blond once again stopped his teasing licks to capture those lovely lips of Harry’s, tasting all of him at once, while giving Harry a bit of a taste of himself.

“Are you ready?” The blond breathed against the shell of the other’s ear. Harry nodded keenly in response, a soft “yes,” passing through his lips.

Giving him another quick kiss, Draco lifted away for a moment, grabbing the hand lotion that was conveniently in his trouser pocket. Coming back over to Harry, he twisted off the lid, and squeezed a generous amount onto his fingers. When the slick concoction coated several of his fingers, he spread Harry’s thighs wider to gain better access to the puckered little hole hidden between them.

Harry gasped at first when the slightly colder lotion touched his tight ring of muscles, but relaxed when Draco began to slowly and carefully work one finger in and out of him. Soon he was wiggled, wishing for more to fill him, and Draco added another two digits, stretching him until both were certain he was ready.

Finally, Draco took his long neglected erection in hand and spread more of the lotion thickly over it, wanting to make this as easy and painless as possible. Taking a deep breath, he guided himself to Harry’s entrance, sliding in just slightly, to allow them both a moment to adjust, the feel of Draco’s cock in Harry far more different than that of his fingers.

Draco set a slow rhythm at first wanting to relish all of this moment and make it last. Harry quickly had enough of that and commanded: “Move… please, faster… harder… I want you.” Ending on a gasp when Draco obeyed and slammed into him, catching Harry’s prostate at the same time and sending him into a mass of shaking, shivering nerves.

“Again… please, I need more of you!” Harry begged again. Draco grunted, and began a faster, harder pace, slamming into Harry’s prostate with every stroke, loving the moaning, gasping and shaking man moving below him.

Remembering his own now forgotten erect member, Harry began stroking himself, tugging harder and harder at the sensitive flesh with every one of Draco’s forceful thrusts into his willing body.

“Come for me.” Draco whispered into the strands of dark hair against his lover’s neck. Harry cried out in response, moving his hand faster as his hips bucked against Draco’s. With a final tug, he released the creamy essence over his chest and Draco’s, screaming the blonde’s name as it left him and pulled him to nirvana.

Draco quickened his pace once more as Harry’s passage tightened around him, seeming to draw the cum straight from his balls. With a strangled cry of “HARRY!” Draco released into the other man, spilling it all, until he was sure there was nothing left, and collapsed atop his lover.

Panting and heavy breathing filled the air of the classroom for the next several minutes, the two artists still twined together physically and mentally. Eventually, Draco stirred just slightly to pull himself out of Harry, before flopping back down beside him. It was a little hard to do on the couch, but when Harry rolled onto his side and drew Draco to him, it was more than comfortable.

“That was… “ Harry struggled to find the words to describe the act of passion that had just occurred.

“Amazing. Bloody brilliant. Definitely the best I’ve ever had.” Draco supplied for him.

“Yes, all that and everything else wonderful.” Harry replied, kissing him softly.

Draco returned the kiss. “So you see what I meant about showing the same passion in art?”

“If you could show that kind of passion in a simple piece of art, you would be a genius, pure and simple. Nothing could compare to feeling the real passion.”

“True enough.” Draco said, nipping softly at Harry’s neck.

“Hmmm. I love that, but I don’t think I have anything left after that.” Harry said, leaning into the little kisses that were tingling down his spine.

“Yes, defiantly more later. I don’t think I could let you go after that.” Draco said between mouthfuls of delicous Harry scented skin.

“Neither could I. I think I may be falling for you, Draco.” Harry murmured, his eyes opening to rest on the silver grey ones before him.

“I think I may be too.” Draco whispered in response, kissing him once again with that fiery passion, before drawing his lover close and drifting off to sleep for a couple hours before their next display of passion.

XXXXX

It was only a short two hours later that Harry woke up from his little nap. He stretched out slowly, feeling wonderfully sore like he hadn’t in a long time. Draco still lay soundly asleep next to him. Smiling, Harry brushed blonde bangs out of his eyes, before slipping off the couch to find his clothing. Locating it shoved under a stool by a student’s easel, he pulled his dirtied shirt back on, and grabbed his pants from underneath the couch. He was trying to find his jacket, when he heard Draco beginning to stir.

“Hey… where are you off to in such a rush?” Draco’s softly sleep muffled voice asked.

“Oh. Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you.” Harry told him, blushing a tiny bit.

“So you were just going to leave and not say anything?” Draco asked, looking slightly hurt.

“Well… I , er. Yeah, I guess I was.” Harry said, looking down at the ground.

The blonde frowned. “I wish you wouldn’t. How about we get together tomorrow then? To discuss… this, and where it could go.” He said, motioning vaguely at the air between them.

Harry blinked. “This? There’s a ‘this’?”

“What? You didn’t just think this was some one time thing, did you Potter? I don’t do that kind of thing, even with students. I at least want to attempt to have some sort of relationship.” Draco said.

Harry stood shocked. “Well, erm. Alright. We can meet tomorrow and talk. Where? And when?” He asked, blushing an uncomfortable red.

“The coffee shop on the corner at 10?” Draco said, getting up to look for his own clothes.

“That’s fine.” Harry told him. “I have to go; I’m going to be late for something else. See you then.” He said, walking towards the door. Draco simply nodded as he unhooked his shirt from an easel. A sudden though came to him, and Harry whirled around, walking quickly over to the other man. Pulling him close, he kissed him hard before releasing him.

“What was that for?”

“Just felt like it.” Harry shrugged. “Bye Draco. I’ll be waiting for tomorrow.”

Draco just stood motionless in his studio, fingers gently brushing his lips, before shaking his head with a smirk, and getting his stuff together.

“I’ll be waiting too.” He said before he shut the door behind him.

Harry Potter sat in a different coffee shop, at a different 10 AM on a different day. He hadn’t shown up at the original coffee shop and the original 10 AM on the original day he was to meet with his sort of friend and teacher, Draco Malfoy.

He’d been… scared. More like terrified of what the other man would think of him. That night, when he’d finally gotten home and actually had a chance to think, that afternoon’s ‘fling’ had hit him hard. Darren was no longer there, having finished moving his things while Harry had been out, leaving his keys on the end table by the door.

Harry picked them up, staring at them in the palm of his hand before clenching his fingers around them. Tears of sorrow and regret starting to fall from his bright green eyes, he dropped them back to the table and made his way into the kitchen. It was silent and empty here too, void of the usual presence there to greet him when he came in late, with supper already started on the stove.

A tear made its solitary path down his cheek, drying before it reached his chin. He’d miss Darren. He always missed them after they left. He had an intense fear of being alone, which led him to have several lovers and boyfriends over the past seven years since he’d been out of school and on his own. He always needed to have someone with him, or near to him. He jumped wildly into relationships, going on dates with whoever asked him first, and sleeping with them as soon as possible, so he wouldn’t lose their interest.

Contrary to that, he was actually still fairly quiet, and kept to himself, the confidence he’d commanded at school having slipped away some time ago. He could sometimes be seen frequenting bars and clubs of a mellow atmosphere. His good looks and innocent charms won him the attention of several men whenever he went. And he always went home with someone, whether he was back the next night or not. He tried to make the relationships last as long as possible, hoping each time he’d found someone to be with for the rest of time; and each time he was sorely proved wrong.

Darren had actually lasted a year. An amazing feat for anyone who dated Harry Potter. Many soon found him to be too clingy and needful of their attention, or too distant for their liking. He had periods when he was both; he would be clingy and needy with one lover, yet distant and emotional when he found a new one. Whether this was because he was still getting over the last one or because he had other things on his mind – or other people – those relationships ended sooner than others.

He’d been fairly happy with Darren though. They’d been the same age (Harry had a personal rule not to date anyone three years older or younger than himself), and had gotten along well when they first met, actually at a shop, not a bar, when Darren had bumped into him quite literally and sent the new art supplies in Harry’s arms tumbling.

With a flustered apology, Darren had helped him pick the things up, and then invited him for coffee – if he wasn’t too busy. Harry wasn’t, and they bonded over the over priced beverages, and made an official date for the coming Saturday. Harry had been excited. He hadn’t felt this way about someone in a long time! He anxiously awaited the date, and when it happened, it had been one of the best of his life. They both had enjoyed themselves immensely, and at the end, Harry was ready for – and wanting – more, but Darren had only smiled, kissed him lightly on the lips and wished him good night.

Harry had stood, fingers brushing his lips, for a full five minutes after Darren had left him at his front door, grinning like a fool.

That happiness and fluttery feelings had continued for another couple of weeks before they slept together, and a month after that, Darren was moving in with Harry at Harry’s request, so that they could “be closer to each other.”

Some where, he wasn’t exactly sure where, that happy fluttery feeling had faded. He was still in love with Darren of course, he couldn’t not be. But he wasn’t as happy as he had been in the beginning. The relationship scale tilted, and it wasn’t easy to hide. He was becoming more and more distant towards the other man, hiding himself away for hours on end in his makeshift studio, and perfecting the techniques he’d learned in his new classes and honing his natural talent. When he wasn’t drawing, he’d just sit and stare out the window, jumping or shaking him off if Darren disturbed him with a light touch or kiss.

Needless to say, Darren wasn’t exactly happy about this either. He had his own needs and wants that had to be fulfilled, and as this was no longer an equal relationship, it wasn’t equal give and take; it was only him giving and Harry taking. There is only so much of this one can take before they can stand it no longer.

This led to the consequent break up and Darren leaving for his friend’s place until he found his own again. Harry had tried to continue his day as usual, but it turned into one of those days that just pile one small frustrating thing on top of another. Eventually, it led him to being late for his art class and having to pose for the day’s sketch as his punishment.

Which led to …other… things.

xxXxx

As it had been mentioned before, the full force of that afternoon hadn’t hit him until he stood in his kitchen, crying over his latest lost lover. He was trying to remember Darren and the better times they’d had together, but it kept getting blurred with images of Draco above him. He shuddered as the tears came harder now. He didn’t know what he had been thinking. Except that he hadn’t been thinking, and it had been absolutely wonderful.

But he didn’t want Draco! Whatever Draco thought they might possibly have, wasn’t, and wouldn’t be. It was just a – a rebound, yes that’s right, a rebound from the breakup and the awful day he’d had. Something to make him feel better. He couldn’t go meet Draco tomorrow! It would be wrong; leading him on as if this was something that Harry wanted. They were only decent friends now, since the last year of school, not especially close, but someone he still talked to occasionally from his past. They couldn’t go from that to lovers like that! It wasn’t possible.

And so, the next morning when Harry’s alarm rang bright and early for him to get up and get ready, he ignored it, slamming the snooze button quickly and flipping the off switch before rolling to his other side.

xxXxx

Three days later, Harry found himself standing hesitantly outside of Draco’s studio door. He didn’t want to see the other man, after having stood him up the other morning. But, he also didn’t want to give up his art classes. He’d tried hard to find someone decent to learn from, and when he’d learned his old classmate taught lessons to a group every so often, he’d jumped at the chance.

Taking a deep, steadying breath, he opened the door, and managed to get through his class without too many incidents. If Draco had been surprised to actually see him there, he’d hid it well. At one point, while he’d been walking around the class, Draco had brushed against him, murmuring into his ear, making it seem as if he was giving artistic direction, not inquiring as to his whereabouts the other day. He insisted Harry see him after the class.

Unfortunately for Draco, Harry had no intention of sticking around to discuss anything. He was packed up and out the door the second Draco declared the class over. He felt childish doing so, but he didn’t wish to hurt Draco by telling him what he’d discovered – that it had only been a rebound, nothing more. It hurt him enough, to think that he could loose a friend over this. Sure, they weren’t especially close, but Harry still cared a little what became of their friendship.

Later that night, Harry was jerked out of his sedated mind frame that came with watching television, as the phone rang. He picked it up, only to hear Draco Malfoy’s voice on the other end. The blonde told him plainly that they had to meet and talk about what had happened, because it was not just going to go away if they ignored it. Harry sighed, and finally agreed to be there, mostly out of guilt from not being there the first time, and now having Draco chase after him. He had to promise a million different times that he would actually show up though. They set a time and a place, and another two days later, there he was, a week from when this all started.

xxXxx

Draco sat down at the table, bringing Harry out of his reverie. He was fifteen minutes late, not that Harry had noticed, because of a student requiring his attention that morning. Not even thinking it the least peculiar that someone needed his help before ten in the morning, Harry smiled weakly, his nervousness apparent.

“Sorry again,” Draco said after having ordered an expresso from the waitress who’d come by.

“S’alright. Figured something had come up.” Harry replied, nodding his thanks as the girl set down his refill.

“Is that what happened with you last week? Something come up so you couldn’t even call?” Draco asked, re-arranging the creamer and sugar packets.

Harry shrugged as he took a sip from his cup. “Not exactly. Just thought it was a bad idea.”

Draco looked up sharply. “A bad idea? Do you not take what happened in the studio seriously?”

Harry gazed at him, “No. I just realized it was nothing more than a rebound. I was upset, you comforted me, and we both walked away happy for at least that afternoon.”

Draco looked at him. He couldn’t believe that it was Harry Potter saying this so calmly to him. “And if it was more to me? What then Harry?”

“I don’t know what you want; but I’m not interested in taking this any further. I’d rather remain your friend. If that’s what we were before that.”

Draco frowned. “Of course we were. Things might have changed since the end of school, but I probably wouldn’t have made it through that last year if it weren’t for you. God, Harry, do you ever think of anyone besides yourself! What if I really liked you, and wanted more than to be a rebound fuck? What then Harry?”

Harry looked up at him, a little confused, a little hurt, and very guilty that Draco was being hurt further. “I’m sorry Draco, but there’s nothing there.”

The blonde’s frowned deepened. “I felt something. You might not have, but I know I felt a spark, a tiny one, as we lay together and our passion was melded together. You said so yourself.”

Harry stared at the table as he spoke, before looking sadly up at him. “Things said in the heat of the moment aren’t necessarily true.”

“You can’t lie about passion.” Draco said, standing from the table. He took out money for his drink, and laid it on the table. “We could at least try to see what would happen.” He leaned over then, and softly, bitter sweetly, kissed Harry on the lips, before stepping out into London traffic.

Harry sat immobile for several long minutes that felt like hours to the confused man. Staring down at his coffee, he pushed it out of the way, added his own money to Draco’s and left, going in the opposite direction of the blond.

Draco just didn’t get it. He didn’t want a relationship with him; therefore it was pointless to hope for one. Harry sighed, watching the reflections of people pass by in shop windows. For the first time in his life, he didn’t want the other person to stick around as long as possible after the sex. He stopped and looked at his own reflection. What was wrong with him?

xxXxx

Draco sighed, frustrated. That hadn’t gone as he’d hoped it would. He unlocked the door to his studio that also served as his apartment, and walked through to his back work room. Dull sunlight filtered down all around him from the roof that was more glass than plaster. It was an odd little set up he had. The place had originally been a warehouse, which easily accounted for the amount of space and the fifteen foot difference between the floor and the ceiling. It had been a bit pricey when he’d inquired about purchasing it for his studio, but he’d managed to work the price down, seeing as it had hardly been livable, or a good place to work in when he’d found it.

Thankfully, his mother had always had a smart head on her shoulders, and had always set aside money for her one and only son whenever she could. So, he could afford such a place. He could also afford the repairs, the added walls around the room so he could have an “apartment”, and the glass (he was an artist! Walls were too containing) he’d added in a few spots, or that he replaced.

If he could have had it, he’d make all the inner walls he built out of glass, but that wouldn’t work as well. Besides, sometimes, you just wanted to hide from the world, and you couldn’t do that in a glass house. So he settled for lots and lots of windows in the studio, his bedroom, and the back work room where he now stood.

His first couple of years here he’d made a little money with his art, but when he was approached at a show to see if he would give lessons to a woman’s daughter, he found something a little more lucrative than selling the occasional piece. Of course, artist viewpoints often clashed, and as was the case when one took on students, he found himself with more than a few Mr. Lendrons over the last 5 years.

But he was good and people couldn’t deny that, so they spread the word for him, and there was always someone waiting to fill in for those who left.

But that wasn’t his concern right now. Right now, it was Harry Potter, friend and student. He had never intended to do anything with Harry. As new found friends in school, it had been fun to tease one another, and sometimes toy with people by acting out what the public thought, but that’s all it was – an act. It had stopped after school. They barely kept in touch.

So when Harry had walked into his studio a little over a year ago, looking for lessons, he’d been a little surprised, but happy none the less.

Except Harry had been a lot different. Of course people change a lot in seven years, but he had completely changed from the boy he’d known at school. Draco had changed as well, grown up immensely, but he was still… himself. If that made any sort of sense.

He realized he had just been staring out of the window, glaring at the glass as if it was its fault he was behaving like this. He turned away, picked up a pencil, dropped it back into the holder and tried to reign in his thoughts.

Besides… now that he’d had a taste, he wanted the rest of the cake. He knew what he’d felt, what exactly had happened.

He didn’t want to be a rebound. No one EVER used Draco Malfoy as a rebound.

xxXxx

He saw Harry the next afternoon in class, and decided to treat him exactly like the student he was. If that’s what Harry wanted, then that’s what he would get.

They were still working on the sculptures they were creating from the sketches that they had done of Harry and Draco a week ago. The clay had slowly started to form the shape of two lovers, but it was also becoming clear that sculpture wasn’t a strong point for many of them. The delicacy it took to form the separate limbs, then carefully attach them to the torso, or even the couch replica, seemed to evade them. For at least 3 of them, he might as well have been instructing a beginner’s high school art class. Frustrating, but he knew a lot of people didn’t enjoy sculpture as much as he did. These particular three preferred painting to anything else. That’s where their true talents lay, but you can’t just ignore an art form without trying it a little. Besides, they could always take private lessons for their painting.

Finally, he ended their suffering, only to reassure them that they would have plenty of time to complete them at the next lesson. There were a few grumpy looks from the ones who had been really into it and hated being told they had to stop working. He smiled at them, and told them they could stay as long as they wanted to, as long as they locked up afterwards.

Harry was bored. Seeing as he had been the subject for the sculpture, and he couldn’t have drawn anything, he just sat and sketched an idea that had come to him for a painting. Once in a while, someone ran into trouble, and Draco and Harry had needed to resume the pose for corrections to be made. This made Harry flush, and hope like hell Draco wouldn’t try anything. And he didn’t.

Harry was gathering up his sketch book, when the studio door burst open. A boy a little younger than him, stood there for a second, before spotting Draco, and sauntering over to him with a large smile on his lips.

“Dray! Can we go now? Are you done?” The stranger asked, as he threw himself at Draco in a large hug.

Draco laughed and returned the hug. “Yeah, I’m done. You ready?”

The other nodded his sandy blonde head eagerly. “Yup!” He said, finally releasing Draco. “We’ve never been clubbing here before. Only when you’ve visited me.”

“I know, I know. And I promised I’d take you this time. Let’s go. I want to get dinner first.”

The two left, Draco’s arm wrapped around the other’s waist, smiling down at him, until he met Harry’s gaze briefly and the smile changed a little. Almost a smirk, but not quite. Harry stood there gaping. What the hell! Just yesterday Draco was saying he wanted to be with Harry, and now he was going out clubbing with some guy! A much younger guy! Harry was shocked. Sure, he had said repeatedly that he didn’t want a relationship with Draco, but this was a bit much!

Had Draco been lying about all that? All that stuff he’d spouted about passion? Just to get him back in his bed? Harry doubted it. Draco wasn’t that low. But who was that then? Was it…? Oh god! That couldn’t have been his boyfriend, and Draco had cheated on him with Harry! That couldn’t be! Draco would never! He had morals!

Harry rushed out the door, but didn’t see the two anywhere in the crowd. He had to… do something. Find out who the kid was and at least apologize. He hadn’t known.

Harry made it home and then collapsed, tears starting at now knowing that he’d ruined some kid’s life. He probably loved Draco whole heartedly and would never be able to love again after this deception.

It served to make Harry miss Darren even more. If they hadn’t fought, if Harry hadn’t been so distant… he didn’t even know why he acted like that himself. He just had some intense periods once in a while of… well, depression, that could last months.

He just really wanted Darren back right then. A hug and some comforting words would have been nice. Sadly, he knew Darren was smarter than to take him back.

Oh god. What was he going to do? He was the other man!

xxXxx

A week later, Harry dragged himself back to Draco’s studio. He hadn’t been to class since he’d seen the other blonde sweep in and take Draco away to wherever it was lover’s like them went.

He sat numbly through the day’s lecture, still about the sculpture they were doing. He didn’t move to do anything throughout the class, and stared at Draco, wondering how he could have done something like that to one who loved him.

Finally, finally, two whole hours passed before he could stand it no longer. Standing, he went over to where Draco was assisting another student, and asked for a word. Draco frowned a little, and then said he’d be right there. Harry nodded, and waited.

“Alright. Let’s go somewhere else.” Draco said, coming over to where Harry stood. He led them to his back room, and shut the door so the rest of the students wouldn’t bear witness to what Draco had a feeling would be an unpleasant conversation. “What did you want to talk about?”

Harry stared out of one of many windows as he answered. “I’m quitting classes.”

“Can I ask why?”

“Because. I can’t possibly learn from someone so lacking in morals, and willing to hurt others.”

“What? Are you talking about me? I would never intentionally hurt someone, and if you believe I’ve hurt you in some way, I’m truly sorry.”

“I’m not the one you need to apologize to. I’m not the one who cheated on his boyfriend with a student, and then continued to pursue that student with false words.” Harry said, turning to look him in the eye.

“What are you on about? I don’t have a boyfriend. I was genuinely interested in you. You’re not. Fine. But I never cheated on anyone. You should at least know me enough to recognize that.”

“Stop lying Draco! You’re not making it any better for yourself! I saw you to together last week!”

“Who? Harry, do you mean Jin? The little blonde that threw himself at me? That’s my cousin. He’s visiting me from Japan. He’s at my mother’s right now, but I’m sure we can call and have that confirmed. He was excited, because, as you must have heard, I promised to take him clubbing next time he visited me in London. We’ve gone several times in Tokyo. I don’t date 19 year old boys, Harry, and I certainly don’t cheat on them.”

His cousin? Harry supposed that could explain it. “Draco… I… I’m sorry. I can’t believe I made such a mistake.”

“You need to have a little more faith in people, Harry. How long have you known me, and you’d think I’d do something like this? Jin and I have always been really close, which is difficult considering the land distance separating us. He’s only ever been like what you saw with me. He’s not very receptive to other people. Unfortunately, the two of you would have gotten along wonderfully.” Draco said. He couldn’t believe that Harry had thought that of him. He would never go after Harry if he was dating someone else.

“I’m so sorry Draco. I just thought…”

“No,” Draco cut in. “You didn’t think. If you had, you would have realized I’m not like that.”

“I’m sorry. I – I’ll go now.” Harry couldn’t seem to quit apologizing. He moved past Draco, the blonde’s voice stopping him with his hand on the door knob.

“You can’t quit.”

Harry turned to look at Draco who hadn’t moved. “Art is personal. You can’t quit life when it gets to hard, you can’t quit art when it gets to personal. Something like this should inspire you. Encourage new thoughts and ideas that need expressing on a canvas, or in a chunk of marble. Some of the greatest masters created their most amazing works through heartbreak and madness. If you quit now, you don’t have half the talent and passion I thought you had. Prove me wrong Harry. Show me you still have that passion for your art. Otherwise… you’ll never realize your full potential.”

Harry considered his words, then left. Draco smiled. He’d be back.

Harry left the studio, and headed back to his apartment for a moment while he dropped off his art supplies and changed his clothes. He needed to get out. Do something. Take his mind off of what had happened that afternoon and what Draco had said before he left.

He was right. He couldn’t just give up art. He’d discovered that he really loved it. And he really enjoyed learning from Draco. It had been different when he’d just done amateur drawings and sketches. A lover had noticed one day, and suggested he try to do something more with it. He’d taken the compliment to heart, and had practiced in between work hours, getting better at his drawing before trying anything else.

Oddly, art was also the way Harry had met Darren – buying supplies for watercolor painting, since that was the thing Harry was getting into and had been trying to learn.

And that was quite enough thoughts of the past, thank you very much; Harry thought. All his past lovers, and of course, Darren especially, seemed to be haunting him lately. If he were to admit it, he’d probably say that it bothered him; since the lovers had been many and frequent in the last number of years.

Fiercely shaking those thoughts from his mind, he shut himself in the bathroom, and stripped down while he ran a hot shower. Cleaning up quickly, he rummaged in his closet for a dark dress shirt that he had been told matched his hair and truly brought out his eyes and a pair of dark pants to wear with it.

Taking his sketch pad with the idea he had been working on during the last class he had actually attended, he found his paints and brushes, putting them into his shoulder bag as he grabbed a canvas as well, planning on heading out somewhere to get some inspiration.

He walked down the familiar streets of London, not really knowing where he was going; just that he would know when he got there. He walked past a zoo, and paused for a moment, but painting animals wouldn’t help him at this point. Cutesy wasn’t going to cut it. He continued on, constantly watching everyone around him, wondering where or who would hold the key to his inspiration.

A brisk half an hour walk found him on the edge of the river. To be precise, he was actually atop a slight hill, looking down at everything that was happening at the edge of the river. People flocked to this place, like bees to a flower’s sweet nectar. You didn’t have to be an artist to see why. The view across the river to the palace beyond was breath taking. As was the water itself, as the sun sparkled and bounced off the deep blue of the water that seemed to change colours each time you looked at it. The people, they too changed, although people were indeed always there. In the summer months, when the flowers bloomed brightly against the darker colours of the city, and the sun dared to finally show itself, the warmth of the days brought out the lovers, the idealists, the romantics, the poets, and of course – the artists.

Vendors sent up all along the banks of the river, each peddling something new and different than the last to the passersby. Food stalls offered a variety of samples for the young lovers who chose to picnic nearby, or to the artists and poets, who all too often got caught up their works and forgot to eat a bite all day. Different stalls sold tourist items for those that explored the riverside, and wanted to remember it. There was always a fortune teller in amongst the lot, willing to tell your future for a price, and she was surprisingly dead on with all of her customers.

Locals that had worked the docks or factories decades ago converged on the benches placed strategically here and there, all full of stories, and willing to share, whether the listener asked or not. Harry had talked to quite a few during his visits, and loved to imagine the city as they told of it, before modernism had completely taken it over. The city still had its old feel to it, something that it would probably never loose, despite any changes that may occur in the future centuries.

The winter months were not quite as pleasant, as the sun hid behind clouds which rained down freezing drizzle and much too much snow. People could still be found at the river, this time on skates whizzing up and down the frozen surface instead of sitting on blankets and admiring the view. Only a few artists ever braved the ‘nice’ days to sit out in the cold and view the scene at a specific time and season, willing to do anything to complete a series of paintings.

Harry was thanking his lucky stars and the gods that he had such a nice day in Mid-May to work with. He couldn’t think of what might have happened had he been forced to stay in his apartment with those stale thoughts by the weather. Of course, his thoughts of Draco and what he said – and especially the ones of Jin throwing himself at the older blonde – still plagued him, but he shoved them down as far as he could, and flipped open his sketch book.

His idea for the painting had been inspired by a girl he’d seen on the street corner one day. Waiting anxiously in the chilly rain for the light to change, she shivered in her jacket. She held her umbrella at an odd angle; shielding herself from the rain, and trying to prevent it from turning inside out as well. The whole picture gave off an air of innocence he could not ignore, and he immediately pulled out his camera, grateful to actually have it on him for once, and snapped the girl’s picture. The sketch he had been working on was a rough one to figure things out before he put it on canvas and began to paint it. Looking at it now though, he realized he couldn’t work on it right then. The day too nice, the mood to wrong.

He set up his small easel, that yes, he had dragged along with him, and set the canvas on it, staring at the blank whiteness. What to do with it? He thought. And yet nothing came to him. He sighed and settled down on the grass to just people watch for a while until something struck him.

What he found was that he was thinking of Draco. And he didn’t exactly like that. Frowning almost angrily at a pair of lovers without knowing it, he pictured himself and Draco instead exchanging tenderly sweet kisses. Catching himself, he glared and turned away, tsking at his own behaviour. It was bad enough when he’d thought Draco was using him as the other man, now he couldn’t think of anything but being the only man with Draco. Something was seriously wrong with him. He repeatedly stated he wanted nothing to do with the blond, and yet couldn’t keep his traitorous mind off of him.

Scowling, he opened up a jar of paint, and stared at it, before determining it was entirely the wrong colour and screwed the lid back on. He picked up the next jar. Deep green. That was better. He dipped a brush in, and stroked it over the paper, still unsure of what he was doing.

Blades of grass appeared on the canvas, covering most of the white space. Bright green eyes, the same shade as his own, peeked between them. A colour change to black created the shadows of a sleek feline in hidden amidst the grass, the bright eyes jumping out at the viewer, staring you down with jealous anger. Harry had a small idea where that had come from.

“Looks good.” Harry heard from behind him, causing him to jump and clutch his now pounding heart. Whipping around, he faced the speaker.

“Draco. What are you doing here?”

“Well, this is a public area, I was merely out for a walk, and saw you sitting here. I decided to watch while you painted, since I haven’t gotten much of a chance to do that in class.” Draco said matter-of-factly.

“Well, now that you’ve seen me paint, I have to go. It’s getting late,” he said, noting the setting sun.

“You’re going to carry that wet paint all the way back to your apartment?” The blonde asked.

“It would appear I have no other choice, Draco. Unless you can pick up that stick over there and use magic to dry the canvas, yes, I will have to carry wet paint all the way back to my apartment.”

“Let me help you. We can go get dinner afterwards.” Draco offered.

Harry stared at him. Maybe it wasn’t him that was losing it, but Draco. “Why? I don’t need help, and I don’t see why you would want to have dinner with someone who thinks so badly of you.” Harry said; starting to pack up his paints, making sure that every lid was on tightly.

“Because I choose to. I know that it may have seemed that you were the ‘other man’, as you so wonderfully put it, with the way my cousin acted, but you eventually learned the truth.” He sighed. “Unfortunately, many people have jumped to that conclusion about the two of us. It can make things a bit awkward. He’s leaving tomorrow anyways, and I was going to take him out again. He asked me to invite you along if I saw you again, since I had told him a lot about you.”

Harry thought over his words as he finished packing up. “I don’t see what there is to tell him about me, but since you have a fairly valid reason for asking me to dinner, I guess it couldn’t hurt.

“All right. Let’s get going then. I have reservations for seven.” Draco said, standing and picking up Harry’s canvas.

Harry just shook his head and followed the blond.

xxXxx

Later that evening, Harry found himself seated across from Draco and his cousin, who was actually quite nice, and Harry was feeling sorry he had thought that Draco was cheating on this boy.

“His hair was bright purple for a week!” Jin finished his story, laughing happily at the memory as Draco blushed and chuckled a little himself. Harry smiled, but didn’t say anything. Much of the evening passed this way, and Harry found himself itching to get out of there as soon as possible. He felt out of place with the two, as nice as Jin was, he didn’t see how Draco thought the two of them would have anything in common. It was another hour before they stood to leave, Harry finally having conceded to letting Draco pay the full bill, after much insistence on Draco’s part.

“Come on Harry. Let Dray get it this time, we’ll go wait for him out front.” Jin said, latching onto Harry’s arm. The brunet merely blinked at the new attachment, and allowed himself to be led away.

“So…” Jin said once they were outside, grinning up at the older man.

“Huh?” He said in response, wondering what the teen’s look meant. “What?”

Jin sighed and looked down at the pavement while he scuffed his sneaker. “Dray really likes you, you know.”

“So he’s said.” Harry replied, wondering where this was going exactly.

The teen nodded. “You should just give him a chance. I’ve never seen him like this about anyone.”

Harry snorted. “That may be true, but I’m sure after what I said earlier, he’s not thinking the same. I think it’s just better if we don’t try anything. It would never work.”

“Why not?”

Such a simple question. Why wouldn’t it work? Because Harry was stubborn, jealous, and needy, everything someone like Draco wouldn’t want to deal with.

“Because it can’t.” He answered, knowing it wasn’t even near to a good enough reason.

“You should try. You should see him when he talks about you. He just lights up telling me how wonderful you are. For the last week it’s been like that. It’s really starting to get to the point where I’m actually glad I have to go home tomorrow. I know you’re resistant to the idea, but it never hurts to try does it?”

“Yes, it does. It hurts a lot.”

“But that’s the past right? Dray could be the future. I like the idea of the two of you together. It would be as good for him as it would for you. I know he doesn’t seem like it, but he actually isn’t a very open person, and besides me, you’re the closet friend he’s ever had. He never got over the loss of his father meaning the loss of the one’s he thought were his friends. Everyone was always after him because of his money and power. You were the only one that ever treated him differently – like a human.”

Harry thought over the teen’s words. He didn’t know kids were so smart these days, but that scary thought would have to be dealt with another time. If what Jin said was true – and he didn’t doubt that it was – then he hadn’t been the greatest friend to Draco, but at least he had been something right? And if that was what he needed… Maybe he should try to become a better friend to the blond before thinking of going any further.

“Okay.” He whispered. “I’ll try.”

“Good.” Jin smiled at him.

Any further discussion was cut off by Draco’s arrival. “What are we talking about?” He asked as he approached the two standing on the sidewalk.

“You.” Jin replied truthfully, as Harry stood quietly, not really wanting to reveal anything. “I’ve been telling him more stories about how nasty you were as a kid.”

“Me? I think that was you!” Draco said playfully, casting a small glance Harry’s way. If anything, he seemed more distant than before. “You okay there Harry?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah, just fine. I feel like walking back though, so I’ll see you later. Nice meeting you Jin. Have a safe trip home.” Harry answered, coming back to earth.

“Bye Harry! Nice meeting you too!” Jin said, waving as he left.

Harry turned and waved over his shoulder at the two, just as Draco was putting his arm around his cousin’s waist to guide him to whenever the car was. He sighed, and continued walking, suddenly having a lot more to think about after his conversation with the young blond. Draco was right. The kid wasn’t so bad after all.

xxXxx

The next morning dawned bright and early, illuminating the sleeping Harry Potter in his bed. Several hours after that, Harry woke up, stretching languidly as he lay there. Sighing, he dropped his arms down, then rolled himself out of bed, knowing a shower would more fully awaken him.

Showering done, and water boiling, as well as toast in the toaster, Harry found himself remembering Jin’s words and his reply: “You should try.” “Okay. I’ll try.”

He looked at the phone sitting innocently on the counter. If he was to try, even if just to be a better friend, then he would have to make an effort. Picking up the phone, he looked up Draco’s number in the memory before letting it dial. It rang several times before the blond picked it up.

“Hello?” He asked, sounding as though he’d recently woken up, although he’d been up for a while.

“Hey Draco. It’s Harry.” Well, at least it was a start.

“Harry? Is something wrong? Why are you calling?” Draco asked, beginning to feel a little worried and wondering who might have died that they both knew. Harry never called him.

“No, no. Everything’s fine. I-I was just thinking about last night, and I owe you for that. I wanted to know if you wanted to have lunch with me or something tomorrow.” Harry asked, getting nervous at the end.

“Lunch? You don’t owe me anything Harry, I invited you out.” Draco said, confused as to why the sudden change in his manner.

“Say yes!” Jin yelled in the background, having overheard Draco’s end of the conversation.

“Go finish packing!” Draco yelled back, turning back to his phone call. “If you really want to though, then sure we can.”

“Okay. Great. Thanks Draco.” Harry said, hanging up the phone, glad it had been successful so far.

Draco stared oddly at the phone, wondering what that had been about. He sighed and went to go help his cousin and get him packed off to the airport. He also had a few questions for the teen, suddenly thinking that the teen knew a lot more than he did.

Draco was cleaning up around his studio after a successfully artistic morning, when he remembered that Harry had invited him to lunch. Quickly finishing what he was doing, he opened the door that led to his living quarters of the old warehouse, and went to change and scrub the paint from his arms and his forehead. He always got paint in the strangest of places, but this was probably because he had brushed his bangs back earlier and hadn’t realized that there was paint all over his hands yet.

Getting ready, he locked up and left quickly for the restaurant, wanting to avoid making Harry wait any longer.

xxXxx

Draco pulled out the chair across from Harry and sat down. “Hey, sorry for making you wait.” He apologized.

“That’s all right. I know this was a bit sudden.” Harry said, looking up at him. Draco caught the green gaze and was momentarily stunned. He had noticed before that Harry’s eyes were gorgeous but today they seemed even more so. Finally taking a breath, he managed to look away.

“So… what’s the real reason for this?” The blonde asked, picking up the menu as the waitress came by and set down two glasses of water.

Harry hesitated for a moment. “Well… I-I talked to Jin the other night after we had dinner. He had some interesting things to say to me.”

I knew it! Draco thought. “Oh really? Care to tell me what about?”

“He seems to think we would be a good couple.”

“I see. And you still disagree?”

“You know I do, Draco.”

“Look, I’m not going to push you into anything. You’ve made it more than clear that you don’t want to be with me – at least in a romantic sense.”

“I know that. And thanks. But… Jin told me something else. And it made me think that I should try being a better friend to you first.”

“Better friend? What do you mean?” Draco asked, sticking his fork into his salad.

“We’ve known each other, what? A total of 14 years if you include the time we hated each other at school. And we only became friends during the last year. After school, we at least kept in touch. Barely. But we never did much more than the Christmas cards and occasional phone call if it was something really important. I kept in better touch with Ron and Hermione, and they don’t even live in the same city anymore. So… I think we should be better friends before we can even think of being lovers.”

Draco took a sip of his water while he digested Harry’s speech. “I see your point. For all that we may say we are friends, it doesn’t really seem like we are, does it?”

“Exactly. And I’m not saying anything won’t happen in the future. I just need to figure things out a bit more first. I can only be your friend for now.”

Draco nodded. “I understand. And I can live with your decision. It’ll be nice to become closer friends. I find it’s hard to make them with my past experience.”

Harry nodded as well. “I see what you mean. You weren’t the nicest kid in school.”

“Hey! You were no angel yourself!” Draco mock pouted, his teasing mind pointing out that Harry was far more angelic now – in looks, attitude, and much more. He quickly ignored that part of his mind.

Harry only laughed, and Draco joined him after a second. Both remembered the beginning of their school years – how filled with hate they were, each of them always starting something. A fight, a prank war, anything and everything that nearly always ended with one or both in the infirmary, or a lot of detention time.

After that, the mood lightened considerably, and the conversation turned to things of mutual interest.

“If you like the Impressionist period, you should come with me to the opening of a new exhibit at the British Museum. I’ve got an invitation for two.” Draco told him as they were finishing their meals.

“Really! I would love to go!” Harry said enthusiastically.

“I’ll check the date and time, and let you know.” Draco said; smiling at the way Harry lit up with excitement at attending the opening.

It would bring him one step closer to Harry, and to being with him – intimately.

xxXxx

The invitation stated that the opening was 1st June at 7:00 PM.

At 6:00, Harry was anxiously pacing the living room. He still had half an hour until Draco would arrive to pick him up. He had realized earlier that this could be considered a date. That thought had stopped him dead in his tracks. No, it most certainly was not. It was two friends, both who loved art and created it, attending a showing of paintings. Not really a date type thing. Since those usually involved some sort of food, a movie or some activity, and really yummy kissing if you were lucky. Or a little more than that, if you were Harry.

So now, he was feeling a bit nervous, simply because his mind insisted upon calling this a date. He’d barely eaten any dinner, and had fussed for two hours over how he looked before deciding he was satisfied.

This was going to kill him.

He started at the knock on the door, and a quick glance at his watch told him Draco was 15 minutes early. He sighed in relief.

The opened door revealed the blond, looking very drool-worthy in a charcoal turtle neck and black blazer that set off the colour and some how drew attention to his sliver grey eyes. Matching black slacks completed the look.

Harry forced himself to shut his mouth and to stop staring as he let the other man in.

“See something you like?” Draco asked; a smirk on his lips and a sleek blond eyebrow arched in amusement.

“You look really good.” Harry said, swallowing, and fighting the flush that had risen at Draco’s words.

“You don’t look so bad yourself.” Draco told him, looking him up and down appreciatively. He wore dark grey pants, a few shades lighter than his own shirt, and a white dress shirt that really showed off his tanned skin, and the vibrancy of his green eyes. Amazing what a non-colour could do for someone.

“Thank you.” Harry replied, still fighting off the heat in his cheeks. He grabbed his keys from the table.

“Ready?” Draco asked.

“Yeah. All set. Let’s go.” He said, holding the door open for the blond as he locked it.

“You know, I’m really excited about this exhibit.” Harry was saying as they walked down to the car. “I did a bit of reading about it, and who they would be showing, and it seems like it will be really good for showcasing all the different styles and similarities of the artists during that period.”

Draco nodded as he unlocked the car and walked around to the driver’s side. “I agree. It’ll be really good for London’s art community. Even for people who don’t know too much about it, or art. They may gain a new interest, which could be good for us.” He said as he slid into the seat and put the key in the ignition.

The drive passed quickly with the general conversation they made regarding the exhibit and what they hoped people would learn from it. They sympathized somewhat with that period, since many of the artists had been discriminated against for the lightness and frivolity that each seemed to carry within. As artists themselves – especially Draco who did this for a living – knew that people didn’t always appreciate their art or their views on the world around them. Most could see through society’s façade, and society didn’t like her secrets being exposed like that.

The Passion sculpture for instance. The public for the most part would have the same reaction as the student who had left in the middle of sketching. It wasn’t right, wasn’t art in its traditional form. But what is art if not experimentation? Finding what works in the best way to express ones self. Changing other people’s views on the world.

They arrived, and immediately Draco noticed some people he knew, and left Harry to go say hello. Harry stood there, watching him a moment, feeling slightly lost, since he usually liked to be around people he knew, and the one person he did know had just left. He was just wondering what to do, as he calmly looked at the exhibit brochure, when Draco rejoined him.

“Sorry about that. They’ve bought a couple things from me before, and I think my mother knows them somehow too.” Draco explained.

Harry looked up. “That’s all right. You didn’t completely abandon me – yet.”

Draco laughed. “No, I haven’t left you yet. Come on; let’s go take a look around before we have to mingle with people we barely know.”

Harry laughed a little before following behind the blond to the main exhibit area. It was painted a warm taupe, making it seem more welcoming, and to make the art stand out against the walls. It was well lit with recessed ceiling lights, which were carefully set up to be sure they were not shining directly onto the paintings, to prevent as much damage to them as possible. No sunlight could be seen, as the room was windowless, but large, giving the impression of open airy-ness that wasn’t truly there.

Harry turned to the first painting mounted carefully on the wall. It was simple in its first look, a landscape, clouds low hanging over a dry desert in the late evening, the sun hidden behind most, but a few rays poked out from behind a small break in the clouds. The label beside it told Harry that it was named Desert Twilight, and wasdone by John Frost. (1) It was nice, but not one he could really enjoy. Draco made no comments on it, but did spend at least as long in front of it as Harry did, analyzing the artist’s choices and the overall effect. He looked over to Harry briefly. “Nice isn’t it?”

“Hmm. I like it, but it’s not something I’m exactly fond of.” Harry told him.

Draco nodded, and moved onto the next painting. Harry spotted one on the other side of the room that appealed to him a little more. He wandered over, instantly noting that he liked the brighter, light colours of this painting. A mother, dressed in white, stood in the water, holding her precious blond babe to her shoulder. Sailboats littered the horizon of the water, with houses and trees visible even further in the distance. Harry liked it immensely, and smiled with fondness at mother and child, wondering if his own mother had ever had the chance to do anything like that relaxing moment with him. He hoped so. (2)

He returned to Draco’s side, who was admiring a very green picture of a couple little houses, the edge of a village? They seemed lost among a forest, the trees from the forest stretching across the road to the houses, drawing them in. It seemed perfectly idyllic, a simple place to escape to – a middle of no where type of place where an artist’s creativity was free to run wild. (3)

“I love it.” Harry breathed.

Draco turned him, a mild look of surprise and amusement crossing his face. “You do?”

“Yes. It would be the perfect place to retire to – or just escape. Imagine the works of art you could create in a place like that. Absolutely beautiful.”

Draco watched him for a moment, caught in the emotions that Harry’s eyes were expressing at the moment. Draco looked at the happiness, contentment, and desire shining in them. It really seemed like the perfect place for Potter. He wouldn’t mind it so much himself. It reminded him a lot of this cottage his family used to have in the south of France… he’d been a number of times in his childhood, and had loved it. His mother had also enjoyed it with him, playing with him often in fields of flowers or gurgling streams.

His father had hated it though, and would only stay a couple days before heading back to his office. Draco frowned at the memory of his father. Maybe it would be a good place to take Harry someday.

Harry caught his frown. “Do you hate it?”

“Eh? No, sorry, thinking of something else. I really like it too. It would be a nice getaway, you’re right.”

“Okay.” Harry said smiling and moving on to the next as he cast a final longing glance at the little house. The sort of place he had always dreamed of settling down in.

Harry stopped dead still in the middle of the room, next to a painting of trees in the winter, covered in snow (4). Bright, fiery red hair greeted him from above brown eyes, as he took in the face of his best friend from those long ago school days. Standing next to him was an elegant looking lady, long brown hair sleeked back into a bun.

“Ron? Hermione?” He asked incredulously.

The red head looked around. “Harry? Haven’t seen you in a while mate! How you been?” Ron, asked, shaking his hand and pulling him into a manly one- armed hug.

“Good. Real good.” He said, smiling at his old friend. “Hello Hermione.” He greeted the girl softly.

“Hello Harry dear, you’re looking wonderful. You’ve been keeping well?” She asked politely, happily surprised to have run into her old friend.

“I’m fine. You two look good. You down visiting London?” he inquired.

“Yes, a bit of a holiday, and someone had given me their invitations to the opening.” Hermione explained.

“That’s great. You should look at a few of the local galleries while you’re here. I know a few of the artists, so I can introduce you.” Harry told them.

“That sounds excellent!” Hermione said, “You wrote that you were taking up art, how is that going?”

“It’s going really well, I can’t believe how much I’ve improved.”

“That’s great Harry!” Ron enthused.

Draco chose that moment to go in search of his companion for the evening. He found him talking to two people that looked strangely familiar. “Hello,” He greeted calmly, as he walked up and stood near Harry.

Harry froze a little as the blond joined them, remembering the animosity between them during school. They had never gotten along with Malfoy.

Would it have continued to fester for seven years into the future? How were the two going to react to seeing them together? Harry had a feeling that it wouldn’t be good…

“Draco. You remember Hermione and Ron? My friends at school.” Harry said, feeling the comfort levels in the room drop considerably.

“Malfoy.” Ron said, graciously at least, as his arm wrapped around his wife’s waist and he held out his hand.

“Weasley.” Draco returned, shaking the redhead’s hand.

“Nice to see you Draco. Are you here with… Harry?” Hermione asked hesitantly.

“Yes, I had and invitation, and invited him along when we had lunch the other day.”

“Lunch?” Hermione asked, turning to Harry, wondering as too just how close the two were now. Maybe enemies made good friends after all.

“Draco is my art teacher, we’ve had a couple run ins lately, and decided to have a go at being better friends then the enemies we were at school.” Harry explained.

“I see,” Hermione nodded, seeming to understand. “Well, I think we should go. We had reservations for afterwards.” She commented, moving away with Ron, who had barely spoken, but still seemed to have the glare in his eyes that had come into them once Malfoy had joined them.

“Wait a second.” Harry said; taking a couple steps to catch up to them. “Why don’t we get together while you’re here? I can show you a few of the galleries, and Draco knows more artists than I do.”

“Sure Harry.” Hermione smiled, if but a little strained. Ron’s glare grew a few degrees hotter. When had he become Draco, instead of ‘that snake Malfoy’?

Harry never noticed. “Great. Well, you know my address and number, give me a call when you have the time.” Harry said, giving a small wave, and moving back over to where he had left Draco.

xxXxx

“I don’t trust Malfoy.” He said, once he and Hermione were away from the other two. “Remember what happened in 7th year? They became excellent friends, and then something weird happened between them, and it was impossible to be in the same room with them without suffocating on the tension.”

“I remember perfectly well, Ronald, but Harry seems happy, and he said they were only working on friends. You know he has the worst of luck keeping his boyfriends around. Remember, he called a couple weeks ago, crying to me about how Darren had left him? That was the longest relationship I think he has ever had. And that was only a year.” She said, glancing over her shoulder at the pair who had moved on to another painting.

“Yeah yeah. But I still don’t trust him to keep his hands off Harry.” Ron said, glowering in the blonde’s direction. Draco sensed this, and turned around to catch him. He glared right back, and moved even closer to Harry, supposedly to point out some little detail to him.

Ron just scowled as his wife pulled him away.

xxXxx

“Sorry about that. I know you three never got along even when you and I did.” Harry was saying, as Draco leaned closer, pointing to something on the painting. “No, I don’t see a cabin, what are you on about?” He said, looking at the blonde oddly.

“Oh. Sorry. My mistake. I don’t mind them. It’s in the past, not worth worrying about anymore.”

“Really. How unlike you.”

“Hey! It is not! I can be forgiving!”

Harry just snorted, “C’mon. Let’s go get some coffee.” He said, dragging him along by the hand, and missing Hermione’s horrified look and Ron’s satisfied one.

Draco saw it however, and smirked triumphantly. Harry was right. It wasn’t like him to be forgiving.

Ron frowned and glared angrily at his wife while she discussed their plans for the following day with Harry. He didn’t much relish the idea of spending the day in Draco Malfoy’s company, but it appeared that he was going to have to. Not to mention, he and Hermione had already had a row about this – and he’d lost like usual when she told him to “just shut up and do it for Harry!” He sighed. All right, all right, he’d do it for Harry. He supposed he could stomach Malfoy’s presence for one day. But only because it would make Harry – and Hermione – happy.

“Oh, that’s wonderful! See you then Harry!” Hermione said cheerfully into the phone before dropping it back into the cradle. She turned to her husband.

“Harry’s thought of a few places we can go to. We’ll picnic on the Thames, and there were a couple more things Harry mentioned seeing.”

“Sounds like the perfect day, dear.” Ron said sarcastically, rolling his eyes at her.

“Ron Weasley! You will stop giving me those looks! We’ve been through this! Malfoy has had seven years since school to change! Let’s give him the benefit of the doubt and say he has. He wasn’t horrible to Harry the other night – even you could tell! He treated him very nicely. And Harry has nothing but good things to say about him and their new friendship, so I’d like you to please grow up!” Hermione said; slamming the door to the bedroom she’d disappeared into.

Ron sighed and sank down in his chair, rubbing his hands over his face.

“Bloody hell.”

xxXxx

Draco wasn’t exactly jumping for joy at spending the day in the Weasel’s the company either. But it was a chance to spend time with Harry – a chance he’d readily accept for any reason. Besides, being together gave Harry plenty of opportunities to think about them dating.

Although, that wasn’t the most brilliant idea either, since being around the brunet only served to make him long for more than ‘just friends’. But Harry would give no quarter. It wasn’t like Draco didn’t try though. Oh no. He had tried the night before. Harry had only held his hand long enough to get onto the street, then quickly dropped it. When he’d let Harry out at his apartment, he’d leaned forward in his seat, hoping Harry might slip and give him a good night kiss, but Harry was oblivious to the silent suggestion, and shut the door in his face.

Draco didn’t know why this was so suddenly a problem. He had been perfectly fine with the ‘just friends’ arrangement before – hell knew he could use another friend – maybe spending too much time with him was a bad idea. He sighed at his thoughts. Nothing he could do about it now. He’d promised to be there today.

Draco finished getting dressed and headed out the door to the bakery they had decided to meet at before the tour.

xxXxx

Harry had his hands wrapped around a steaming take away cup as he waited for the others to show up. Even though it had only been about four years since Ron and Hermione had moved from the city, Harry was still eager to show them to work of local artists – something they probably wouldn’t have seen even if they did still live in London. He was also eager for them to spend time with Draco and see that he wasn’t as bad as he had been in school. He glanced up, and a bright smile came onto his face as he caught sight of the one he had been thinking about.

xxXxx

Draco pushed the door to the bakery open, smiling when he saw Harry. The other man looked as devilishly handsome as usual, a heart-stopping smile lighting up his features.

“Morning Harry. I’m not too early am I?” Draco asked, noticing that the brunet sat alone.

“No, it’s all right. I suspect Ron’s just dragging his heels, or else they’d be here by now.” Harry answered, taking a small sip of his coffee.

Draco ‘hmmed’ in agreement. If it hadn’t been for Harry, he wouldn’t be here either. “I’m going to get something while we wait then.” He told Harry and moved off in the direction of the counter. Harry just nodded and kept his gaze on the door.

xxXxx

“Oh, come on Ron! You know we agreed! We can’t just go backing out of it now because you think Draco Malfoy is a stupid git! This is really important to Harry!” Hermione yelled at her husband, pulling him along the hall. “We’re already quite late!”

“I don’t care, Hermione! That Ferret only wants Harry for his body! He doesn’t want to be friends at all!” Ron shouted back.

“Really Ronald! Enough! We have to go now, and I don’t like it anymore than you do. I, however, can forget our differences for one day, to make our friend happy!” She shrilled.

“All right, all right! I hear you! Do it for Harry, shut up and don’t complain! I know!”

Hermione just gave something between a sigh and an enraged growl to his words, and continued on her way; dragging her husband with every step.

xxXxx

At last, Harry looked up to see his two oldest and best friends. They looked… happy was stretching it. Hermione was cheerful enough, and actually looking forward to seeing the art, while Ron… well, his obviously fake smile was plastered on, and art wasn’t his cup of tea in the first place. Harry tried not to sigh and show his disappointment. You’d think after seven years, they’d forget the past, and give the future a better try!

“Come on mate, he’s really not as bad as all you think.” Harry said bracingly to the redhead.

Rom just ‘hrmp’ed and the grimace stretched his mouth further.

“I’m really sorry Harry. We’re trying for you. But, no matter how long ago in the past it was, it is awful hard to forgive the one who constantly tormented you. I mean, Ron nearly got expelled because of him!” Hermione said in a hushed tone as Draco was spotted returning to the table, three drinks in hand.

“Morning.” The blond greeted the newcomers. “I just left the coffees black, since I didn’t know what you take.” He said, handing each a cup.

“Oh. Thank you, Mal-Draco. That’s quite nice of you.” Hermione said, looking down at the cardboard cup in front of her.

An elbow to the side had Ron grunting his reluctant thanks. Draco simply smiled and nodded, sitting down in the empty space next to Harry. An uncomfortable silence descended as the group fixed their coffees or sipped them.

“So, er, Harry, what exactly do you have planned for today?” Hermione asked. She knew the basics, but wanted more details – or some way to get them out of there sooner.

Harry started at the sudden question. “Well, er, I just wanted to show you the stuff of some of the artists around here. I know it’s not something you would usually see – even you Hermione, but I think what they’re doing is cool, and thought you’d like it.” He shrugged. “It’s something different to do while you’re still in town.”

Hermione nodded. “You’re right; it would be a little different. I’m actually quite glad you thought of this, Harry.”

Harry smiled at her. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad after all.

xxXxx

Two hours, thirty three minutes, and 17 seconds later, Harry regretted ever thinking those words.

The first place they had stopped at had been fine. The artist was quite good, and everyone enjoyed looking through his work. It was the same with the next two places. But when they reached the fourth studio/gallery/home, they discovered that Draco’s friend, and Harry’s acquaintance, the flamboyant and outrageous Roberto, had undertaken a little change.

Roberto, an Italian that had moved to London a couple years ago for a bit of a different perspective, was one of those people that others always secretly wanted to be friends with. He was outgoing, and happy, quick with jokes and anecdotes at the parties, with an eye to be envied of art, colour, fashion – and men. Except that now, well, London didn’t seem to be big enough for him, or enough of a change. He was sure to inform them that his name was now simply Robert, and only the most prestigious and well paying people could view his art. He was headed to the United States, to meet the love of his life – Luella Beth – and to sell his work there. Everything was packed and waiting, including his Italian accent that had suddenly faded to nothing more than a common accent that could be found on the tongues of most Americans.

Draco and Harry were flabbergasted at their friend’s sudden change. It was true that they hadn’t really seen him in a while, since he had holed himself away, giving no hints as to what he was doing. A common thing for artists to do when inspiration struck. How wrong they had been.

“Maybe… Maybe he doesn’t know that they actually fancy foreigners over there, you think?” Harry had whispered a bit loudly to Draco; that thought being the only one that had come to his mind at the sight of ‘Robert’ and his new attire – which left much to be desired. The man had more of a fashion sense than Harry did on a particularly gay day, and Harry now looked like as if he might as well have put on a tuxedo that morning in comparison to the gawdawful combination the other man wore.

“I think he’s gone mad. Too many paint fumes. Marble fell on his head while sculpting. Hard. The hospital didn’t alert us, since we’re not family. In any case, it was clearly something tragic.” Draco replied, unable to un-focus his poor eyes from the pinstripes and plaid that were a part of the outfit – somehow.

“Oh dear.” Was all Hermione could say, while Ron stood rooted to the spot in shock, jaw dropped to the floor, and eyes bulging to the size of dinner plates.

They finally left, after ‘Robert’ literally shoved them out the door, telling them to come and see him once he was famous in America.

“Oh dear.” Hermione stuttered again once they were out on the street, saved by the normalcy it still contained.

Harry turned his shocked gaze onto her. Snapping out of it, he came up with a suitable reply. “Hermione, I’m terribly sorry about that. He’s not usually like that. Really. He’s actually a fantastic artist. One of the best in London. I think he’s just under a lot of… pressure. From a commission he’s probably doing. Yeah, I think that’s it. Just a small trip over seas to clear his mind.” Harry ‘explained’. It seemed like a good enough excuse for the madness they had just witnessed.

“I hope he clears his wardrobe too.” Ron managed, aghast.

“Er, yeah. He’s usually much better about that too.” Harry said, rubbing the back of his neck uncomfortably for a moment.

“I just hope whatever he has hasn’t spread to Giorgio.” Draco said in a worried voice.

xxXxx

Giorgio was, of course, Roberto’s brother. He was the exact opposite you could say. Especially the part where he was married to his childhood sweetheart, Elana. He was the older of the two, was softer, and gentler than Roberto was. He had come to London at the same time as his brother, but for different reasons. He wasn’t an artist, he would always insist, but he sketched a bit, and occasionally they would publish those sketches as illustrations in children’s books. That wasn’t his normal job though, just something he did every once in a while. Apparently, art ran in the family.

Luckily, when they went to visit him, he was in the proper frame of mind. Harry and Draco greeted him happily, giving him many hugs and thumps on the back, glad that he was all right. Ron and Hermione were introduced, and they all sat down for a cup of tea, and information sharing.

“Yes, I knew about Roberto’s… change.” Giorgio admitted carefully as his wife set down his tea.

“What happened to him though?” Harry asked, Draco and he on the edge of their seats to find out what strange happening had cause their friend to go insane.

“Well, he’d started using his computer a bit more, one of those auction things, trying to sell more of his work in other places around the world. I didn’t think it was such a good idea, but he was mad about it. Then he met this lady bidder, who told him he should come to America to paint and get famous.” Here Giorgio shook his head. “Gayest man in the world tells me he’s in love and off to marry this Luella Beth girl.”

“Huh.” Was all Draco could say to that. He’d actually been hoping for the hit-on-the–head-theory or the paint fumes eating his brain cells.

“That… doesn’t make any sense.” Harry said.

“I know.” Giorgio said with a nod. “I don’t see how that had to affect his wardrobe.” They all shuddered at the thought.

They sat and talked for a while longer, and Giorgio brought out a few of the books he’d illustrated and some of his other drawings, plus the water colour paintings he’d done. Hermione adored them, loving the simplicity and bright colours that had been used. She gushed over them for a bit until the highly embarrassed Giorgio gave her one that she admired for a long time. She insisted that she couldn’t take it, but the Italian was far more insistent, and when they left, Hermione was lovingly holding her new painting to her chest.

“Good seeing you Giorgio. Thanks for telling us about Roberto. Let us know if he goes back to being himself, all right?” Draco said as they parted ways, and the older man nodded, telling him that he would let them know if things went back to normal.

xxXxx

Afterwards, they headed down to the river, to the same spot where Harry had painted his jealous cat only a week ago. Funny, it had seemed much longer than that, he thought to himself. They shook out a blanket that Draco kept in his car, and sat down, fully prepared to spend the afternoon in the company of good friends, as a lazy air settled over them all. Once they were set up, they wandered down the small hill to one of the many vendors spread along the river, hoping to find something to satisfy their hunger.

Coming back to the shade of the lone tree that stood over the hill, they settled again, all having found something different to add to the little picnic. They shared around the different dishes, piling them onto paper plates that Hermione had found along the way, drinks cracking open as the talk and laughter began to flow freely.

Roberto was discussed wholeheartedly at first, the odd situation still not put to rest. Ron was laughing as Draco went into a tirade about how awful the man’s outfit had been, and made many of the same faces he had made earlier at the memories of when he was first confronted with it. Harry was laughing at the both of them, nearly choking on his salad at one point. Ron thumped him on the back helpfully, which only made it worse, until Hermione handed him his drink. Thanking her, the subject turned to other things.

The gorgeous afternoon passed by long and slow as they stayed under the tree, watching everyone else but a few come and go. Finally, when the sun sunk down to the same level as the river, they gathered up the trash and the blanket, and made the way back over to Draco’s car, climbing in so they could all be dropped off at their respective destinations.

Arriving back at the hotel, Hermione and Ron thanked the other two for a wonderful day, and headed up to their room.

“Well, that wasn’t so bad was it now, Ron?” Hermione asked as she went to make tea.

He sighed and rolled his eyes at the ceiling. “No, it was actually quite enjoyable. You were right, Draco Malfoy was able to change, and all that other junk you’ve been throwing at me since Harry invited us.”

Hermione returned to the room to merely glare at him, before going back to her tea preparations. “See, I knew it wouldn’t be so bad. Draco is actually very nice. And he didn’t do or say anything untoward to Harry all day. So, we approve?”

“Yeah yeah, we approve.”

“Splendid. I’ll tell Harry in the morning.”

xxXxx

Harry invited Draco up for coffee when the blond dropped him off. Draco, surprised, accepted the offer.

“That went over well, don’t you think? They didn’t have a terrible fit over you at all. I thought for sure Ron would have stormed off from something you said.” Harry said, pulling out mugs for them.

Draco laughed. “That’s because I was my usual charming self, and my manners are flawless.”

Harry snorted and shook his head. “Yeah, whatever. But seriously… I’m glad you all were able to get along.”

“I am too.” Draco smiled. Harry just gave him one of his own beautiful smiles and finished what he was doing in the kitchen, bringing the steaming mugs out into the living room.

“Thanks.” Draco said, taking one from him. Sipping it, he savoured the feel of the hot liquid trickling down his throat. Since when did Harry know what he liked in his coffee?

“Welcome.” Harry said, sitting next to him. Silence descended comfortably, and neither could think of anything to say. On the verge of becoming uncomfortable, Draco started to speak, as did Harry.

“Well, I guess…”

“Er, are you…”

“You first.” Harry told Draco. He nodded.

“I guess I’ll get going. Thanks for the –” He was stopped when Harry tugged him back down onto the couch.

“I was just wondering if you wanted to get together after class tomorrow. You are still teaching tomorrow, right?” Harry asked.

“Yes, I am still teaching. And I think that would be okay. I don’t think I have anything planned.”

“Okay. Good.” Harry nodded, and then let go of Draco’s shirt, realizing belatedly that he was still holding onto it. He felt his cheeks redden, then reached forward to place his cup on the table, hiding the uncalled for blush.

Draco had leaned forward to do the same, getting set to leave now that Harry had asked his question and gotten an answer. They’re arms brushed, ever so lightly, and electricity ran through their skins, right into their hearts. Harry’s blush deepened as his gaze caught on Draco’s and noticed that Draco’s face was also looking a tinge red.

“Sorry…” They both breathed. Twin breaths ghosted over jaws, and they seemed to be drawn closer together, Draco inching forward in his seat. A hand crept around to Harry’s back, sliding up and into the dark mess of his hair as Draco brought their mouths together in a searing kiss.

What seemed like hours later, they finally broke apart, panting heavily from the shock, each reeling from the feel and taste of the other upon their lips. The feeling was explosive after such a long time of denying feelings or holding them back.

“Draco…”

“I’m so sorry, Harry. I don’t – I know you don’t – I’ll be going now.” The usually calm Draco stuttered, getting up quickly and walking out the door.

He was gone before Harry could even think to call him back.

Harry sat there blankly for a while after Draco had made his hasty departure. He knew he kept saying that he didn’t want anything romantic to do with the blond, but with kisses as hot and as addictive as that… he was sure not to keep his promise long.

xxXxx

Draco cursed himself a million times in the car on the way back to his studio; slamming both the car and studio door, because it made him feel a tiny bit better. He stormed in, cursing and muttering to himself, before he stopped in the middle of the dark floor, only illuminated by the light coming in the many windows from the light of the surrounding buildings. He grasped his hair, as if he hoped to pull it all out at once, and let out a loud, frustrated yell.

“FUCK!” He hit himself in the head.

“Fuck fuck fuck! I never should have… I have to respect him…he’s not just going to let me in that easy! DAMNIT!” The angry blond raged. He picked up the thing closest to him – and empty easel – and flung it across the room, where it hit the wall with a definite CRACK!

Draco sagged to his knees. He couldn’t help it. He was in love with Harry. Completely and totally entranced by him. That beautiful smile he’d worn earlier; the way his brilliant green eyes lit up with laughter at his imitations at the river; the way they flashed with happy amusement at his old friends, glad they had come. It was all that Draco could think about. He couldn’t get it out of his mind. The eyes and smile a deadly combination that left him aching late at night when he wished Harry lay next to him. Thoughts like that were pushed away often, as his mind made it seem as if he only wanted Harry for sex – and he didn’t. There was way more to it than that.

Those green green eyes! So pure and clear, thoughts and expressions easily seen there… they were so beautiful, yet so mysterious. As if there was always something they weren’t quite telling you, even as they told you plenty.

Standing up quickly, he raced to flick on the warehouse lights. It wasn’t the natural light he preferred to work in, but it would do for now. He located his easel and canvas, and then searched for his paints. Grabbing every shade and mixture of green he had. Taking them all and spilling the tubes onto the table beside the easel. The rest of the colours he’d need at some point were at his feet, some falling out onto the floor and knocked over in his rush, the container that held them, now freeing them.

Free. If only he were free to do this. He could paint all he wanted, but would he get the colour right? Would the expression be okay? Would Harry mind when he discovered what they really meant? Draco only wanted to be free to stare into the gorgeous depths of those eyes for eternity.

And even then it wouldn’t be long enough… not with Harry… Draco thought as his brush stroked quickly over the canvas, greens blending together as they formed the most unique and beautiful colour in the world. Every comparison was mediocre to Draco, and so his mind no longer dwelled on what it could be compared to as he fell deeper and deeper in to the snare of his imagination and what he wanted to be reality.

xxXxx

Harry found himself somewhat torn the next day as he got ready for his art class. On the one hand, he was reluctant due to what had happened the night before. On the other, he was eager to go. He wanted to see Draco again, to know that it hadn’t been made up out of his tired mind. Both pulled him in opposite directions, and he wasn’t sure which would be best.

An odd contradiction in itself, since he was being so stubborn on all fronts. He absolutely refused to date Draco, or do anything with him… but he was beginning to wonder if that was such a good idea. Maybe… he’d be doing himself more harm than good by not letting Draco in; giving him what he wanted. It wasn’t like he didn’t want it too. He just… after so long of doing things wrong, he wanted to do something right. And if that meant that he had to wait around until the right man came around, and not sleeping with Draco Malfoy, then that’s what he’d do.

But what if Draco was the one he was fated to be with?

With this new thought in mind, he made his way to the studio for his lesson with the complex blond.

xxXxx

Draco’s newest painting found itself resting on the easel in his beloved well lit back room, although it faced away from the sun, so it wouldn’t be ruined before it was barely dried. The artist himself, however, was passed out on his bed after staying up until dawn began to streak the sky outside his many windows, pink, purple, orange and yellow. At the lightest arrival of these new colours, he was pulled from the dark of his canvas, proclaiming it perfect.

A hastily written sign, after the first two students had banged on his door, told those that came that the lesson for the day was cancelled. As such, that was what greeted Harry when he went to open the door to the studio.

Cancelled? But he was fine yesterday! Oh… he must be upset about what he did…Harry thought, as he tried the door anyways. Locked, as he expected. Frowning now at this obstacle, he raised his hand and gave it a few solid thumps, knowing that these old warehouse doors muffled more than they amplified.

“Draco!” Bang bang bang!

Luckily – for whom, it’s not known – Draco was up and about briefly, and answered Harry’s banging.

“What on earth do you want! Can’t you read?” He yelled angrily before actually realizing who it was on the other side of the door.

Harry, also not noticing that the door was now open, missed hitting Draco, literally stopping his hand inches from the perfect face. “Sorry.” Harry said, truly meaning it as he took in the blonde’s rumpled angry appearance. “I didn’t realize… I was just checking…”

“Spit it out Potter!”

I was just checking on you, since you were fine yesterday…” He trailed off, looking a little uncertain of his actions now.

“Odd; wouldn’t have expected you to care. I was up most of the night painting. Class is cancelled because I don’t have the energy to deal with half-assed art forms and stupid students today!”

Harry fair gaped at the other man. Of course he cared! When hadn’t he! “I-I’m sorry?”

“As you should be!” Draco proclaimed. After all, it had been his eyes he’d been trying to capture all night.

“Look, I know this might not be the best time, but how about you go get dressed, and we’ll have coffee. Or lunch, since it’s nearly noon.”

Draco opened his mouth as a thousand sharp retorts flew to his tongue, but he paused. He really wasn’t that angry. Just a little grumpy since he hadn’t gotten much sleep. In fact, he was rather surprised that Harry was here at all, and not at home, angry about what had happened earlier in the night. Finally, he nodded. “Come in.”

xxXxx

Harry followed Draco back to the extra rooms that Draco had added to the old building and served as a living area. The back wall of the studio hid the rooms, and there wasn’t much to see after that. Harry stopped in the living room, the first room that they encountered, since he figured there really wasn’t any other place to go.

He was right; the living room was next to the bedroom, and across the very small hallway was the kitchen and bathroom. Behind that was the beloved storage/work room. Not much too look at all, but it served its purpose. Draco disappeared into his bedroom, and muffled searching and a loud thunk were heard.

“Ow! What the hell! Shit that hurt!” Harry heard Draco curse. Curious as to what could cause him harm in his own closet, Harry followed the sound of irritated mutterings.

“Draco?” He asked, finding him scowling at the closet doors, and rubbing his left arm.

Draco looked up, the scowl now holding a bit of a pout. “I tripped on my leather pants, and whacked my arm on the door.” He explained in a petulant whine.

“Your pants…?” Harry looked to the lump on the floor and then reached over to pick it up. It was a pair of black leather pants that even not on a person looked decidedly tight and low slung to Harry.

“Yes, Potter, my pants. I didn’t hang them up like normal, or they fell. Either way, that freaking hurt, and now I’ll have a bright bruise on my flawless skin.” Draco said; pouting even more. “Stupid pants. Jin made me buy them for when we go clubbing, and makes me wear them every time we go. And it’s not like that’s often.” He glared at the offending pants.

Harry gaped at him, then the pants for a moment. It was clear the blonde was serious, hoping the pants might burst into flames for harming his poor delicate flesh the way he was glaring. He laughed a little.

“Well, with the way you were shouting, I thought it was something serious.”

Draco hardened his glare and turned it on Harry. “It is serious! I’ll have you know, that it still really hurts. And I will have a bruise to show for it tomorrow.”

“All right; I believe you. You finish getting dressed, and I’ll go make you some coffee. Maybe then you’ll be in a better mood.” Harry said, leaving the blonde to glare at his clothes.

He found the coffee rather easy in the large kitchen, and set about getting it ready for the disgruntled artist. While he waited for it to brew, he took a little look around. Draco may not have had many rooms, but the ones he had were large and spacious. Whether this was left over from enjoying that at the Manor, or because he just liked space for his creativity to flow freely, Harry didn’t know; but it did make the old warehouse nicer.

Draco ambled in just as Harry was pouring the dark liquid into mugs for them. Fixing his the way he liked it, he took a tentative first sip against the burning heat and sighed.

Harry smirked. “Feeling better are we?”

“Shut up.” Draco murmured, opening his dark gray eyes to send a weak glare his way. He took another sip which seemed to embolden him. “What are you still doing here anyways?”

“We were going to do something after class remember?”

“Of course I remember. But there was no class. So there is no ‘after class’ to speak of today. Shouldn’t you be mad at me anyways?” Draco asked the last, not really thinking too much about it. Damn all nighters.

“Why would I be mad?” Harry had to think about this one. Was there…oh. That. “Oh. You mean when you kissed me. In all honesty, no, I’m not mad at you. I know… that you wish this could be more. But I’ve always given into things like that too soon. So, I need to sit back and wait a little longer for the feelings to develop. I don’t hate you, I’m not mad at you, I care about you… but I’m just not sure how much I care about you. Whether it’s as a friend or more. Is that okay with you? That we just hold off a little? I know, sometimes things get a bit messed up, and kisses happen, and I can deal with that. But for now, I don’t want it going beyond that.”

Draco nodded, getting what he said just a little bit more now that it had been fully explained to him. “Yeah. I’m okay with it. I just… I don’t know. Maybe you’re just too irresistible to me.” He smirked.

Harry hit him lightly on the arm. “You just got carried away. Its okay, I could tell why. I may not have wanted it at the time, but I couldn’t help but notice that it was hot and passionate.” He smirked, knowing this would get Draco.

The blonde’s jaw dropped. Harry laughed.

xxXxx

Later, they went out, simply for a walk to get Draco back to himself. They ended up on a different part of the river, further down than the place Harry seemed to frequent. Draco had brought along his camera and captured the people lazing about on the river’s edge, and the London scenery around them. It was also an excuse to occasionally capture Harry in the frame, for if he was looking away, he couldn’t notice if Draco was taking shots of his profile. He did, however, manage to catch one glorious shot of his face, full on, his eyes sparkling from the sunlight and the laughter. Breathtaking. He’d have to develop that and see if he could capture it in paint later.

“What are you doing?” Harry asked; when Draco had taken yet another picture of him.

“Taking pictures. Some of the view, some of you.”

“Why are you taking pictures of me?”

“Why not?”

Good question. Harry had been thinking why not? to a lot of things lately. Like why couldn’t he be with Draco right now? He’d never waited before…

“Fine,” he sighed. “Take pictures of whatever you want.”

“Mmm. I think I will.” Draco said, smugly smiling at him.

Harry just shook his head and turned away.

CLICK!

xxXxx

Draco decided he wanted to develop the pictures himself that evening after Harry had left. That had been a chore itself, seeing as he had to be reassured a half dozen times that Draco wouldn’t stay up paintingall night again.

He enlarged the only shot he had managed to get his full face in. All the other ones hadn’t looked nearly as nice. He blew it up, so the crystal clear green eyes were larger than life, and would be easier to paint. He hoped.

In enlarging it and magnifying it, he noticed something. At first he thought there had been an odd smudge on the lens, and that had affected the picture, but then he looked closer, and realized that wasn’t the case at all.

Draco had never noticed it before – he didn’t know how he had missed it – but Harry had the faintest and palest of scars on his forehead. It was thin, shaped like a bolt of lightening. It was odd, and yet strangely appealing. It made Draco want to find out what other scars Harry was hiding on his body.

Despite his promise, Draco readied another canvas for painting that night, though he swore to himself as well, that he’d rather paint this one in the daylight that shone out of the portrait's eyes instead.

With another couple quick, feather light touches of his pencil, he set it down, and headed off for some much needed sleep. This time, his bare outlines showed the tiny marks of a scar on the subject's head.

Draco stood, paint brush in hand, staring thoughtfully at his current painting. Rubbing slightly at his jaw, he moved forward to it again, refreshing the colour on his brush, before dragging it carefully over the canvas. He poked at it another couple of times to accentuate points of light, before finally smiling in satisfaction.

It was done.

xxXxx

Harry was sitting on a stool, avidly listening as Draco taught the room full of aspiring artists. They’d finally moved on from sculpture to oil painting. It was quite a jump from one subject to the other, but it was Draco’s decision to teach what he wanted.

Not only was the blond nice to listen to, he was also very interesting to watch when he taught. He had a tendency to use his hands when he spoke, using them to fully express what he was teaching. He did it sometimes in normal conversations too, to help explain his point, and show his emotion as well. Watching his hands move through the air was like watching a graceful dancer twirl across a stage. One was captivated by the motion, and it ultimately held the entire audience’s attention.

His silky, smooth-as-honey voice might have had something to do with that too.

So, it was not unnatural for the studio to be utterly silent when Draco was teaching their latest lesson. Every one of them was too entranced by his voice, hand gestures, and looks during that time. Whether or not they were actually absorbing what he said, and learning, it was hard to tell, but they seemed to get most of it. The students summoned their full concentration when it was time for them to apply the theory though, eager to earn the praise of their mentor, not his criticism. Many of the girls (and a couple guys) melted when Draco gave them a beatific smile and a compliment on their work. Naturally, they all wanted to be great artists some day, but for now, if all they got was a bit of Draco’s attention, that was okay.

Harry carefully sketched out a sunflower after Draco had finished his lecture, something easy to do in the class time, and then smirked. One of the girls was being advised by the blond artist as to a better way to start her painting, and she looked as if she was going to fall off her stool in a dead faint at any moment. Draco was leaning close to point out helpful things, speaking softly into her ear so as to not disturb the others working. The poor girl was bright red, and seemed to be breathing irregularly.

Harry shook his head. Girls were so silly. Draco was completely gay.

xxXxx

Another couple of nights passed before Draco could be found up late once more. This time, several sketches sat before him on his work table. They had been drawn from memory, or were the photographs he had taken that day by the river. Two small sketches had been done during class, when the students had been hard at work, and Harry had had this intense look of concentration on his face. There had been a different fire in his eyes than normal, and Draco had quickly grabbed a sketch book. The artist in him as well as the love he felt for the other, wouldn’t let him do anything less than capture that intensity. The only thing he’d seen Harry’s eyes burn hotter with was the passion when they had been together that one time, oh so long ago.

So now, his small collection surrounded him, and a lump of clay sat foremost in front of him, slowly taking on the shape he wished it to have. After a couple hours, he deemed the dent he had made in it big enough to stop and sleep. It would take a while more to finish, but it was beginning to blur in front of him.

xxXxx

In the short time - that felt much longer - since Draco had accidentally kissed Harry, he had begun to notice a bit of difference in the artist. Whenever he asked if Draco wanted to do anything with him, the blond tried to come up with a good excuse not too. But for all that he turned down Harry’s invitations; he looked desperate to accept.

Of course, it took Harry a while to catch onto this. Draco didn’t turn down all his invitations, just a lot of them. Mostly the ones where they were more likely to end up alone, but he gratefully took up any offers to go to the museums or the galleries. Those he just couldn’t resist.

Harry finally figured out that Draco was giving him space. Time to think apart from what Draco wanted for them, and to sort out just what it was the Harry wanted in their relationship. And here Harry had been trying to spend more time with Draco – as friends. A right confusing situation they had made for themselves. It gave Harry a headache whenever he thought on it, which was often. He continued on his quest to get closer to Draco anyways, so he could decide what he wanted to be to the blond – friend or lover?

Why was he questioning something he normally wouldn’t? Or at least never had in the past. Not only that, but when they were together, it felt more right than anything ever had in any of his relationships.

Maybe that was why he was reluctant to actually to commit to dating Draco. Or to commit to anything between them. Fear that it would fall apart. That it was too good to be true.

It sure seemed like it might be. But bloody hell, that devil could kiss.

xxXxx

“Harry!” Draco called out, spotting the brunet at a table in the coffee shop they both seemed to frequent.

“Hey Draco, what’s going on?” Harry greeted, looking a little worried as to why Draco suddenly seemed to be seeking him out after going to great lengths to avoid him.

“Can I ask a favour?”

“Sure… depending on what it is.”

“Oh, nothing serious. I’m not asking for money or anything. I just want to sketch you.” Draco explained.

“What? Why on earth do you want to sketch me?” Harry asked incredulously, looking at Draco over the rim of his coffee cup.

“Because I want to do a little more study of the human face and form, and it’s easier to just draw you doing things.”

Harry suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. That was a load of bull. Draco didn’t really need to study them anymore; he knew it all. It was just wanted a valid reason to be close to Harry. “Then get a proper art model.”

“No. I want to draw you.” Draco said insistently, silver eyes glittering.

This time, Harry did roll his eyes. “I reckon I’d be unable to stop you, no matter what I said.”

“I reckon you’re right there, Potter.” Draco smirked in satisfaction, having got his way yet again.

Harry just sighed and finished his coffee, pointedly looking everywhere but at Draco. Draco pulled out a sketch book, smirk still firmly in place, and quickly jotted lines that captured Harry staring out at the busy city over his coffee cup.

xxXxx

“How long are you going to be doing this?” Harry asked, stretching out on his couch. He’d gone back to his flat after the coffee shop and a couple other little stops, and Draco had followed him every step of the way.

“Maybe just today, maybe a couple more.” Draco said vaguely, busy concentrating on getting down Harry’s relaxed form on paper. His spiky black hair was pushed further up as Harry shoved his hands through it, before resting them at the nape of his neck. His legs were stretched out before him, one bent at the knee, the other flat on the cushions. They were mostly covered by long black baggy shorts, since he didn’t like to wear shorts, but the weather had been too hot for pants lately. And the stupid things were driving Draco mental. He’d found out quickly enough that they did a terrible job of showing off Harry’s arse, but an excellent one of covering it. Currently, it was the folds and wrinkles of the blasted things that were bothering the artist, since there were so bloody many. For someone with an eye for detail and a love to express it in many forms, he sure hated the folds of clothing.

The green eyes that haunted him everywhere flicked an annoyed glance at him, before looking at the television again. Apparently he was concerned about the global weather.

Draco threw his pencil at him. “Potter, don’t you have any other clothing?”

Harry rubbed his elbow where the missile had struck, now glaring at the other. “Of course I do. You’ve seen me wear other clothes. Why this is being brought up now, though, I have no idea.”

“I hate those shorts you’re wearing. I can’t draw them. They’re not even proper shorts.”

“They are too! I don’t like them any shorter, so just leave it. And you can too draw them. You can draw anything. ”

“Go change. I don’t like them.”

“Stop being such a prat! I’m not changing! You’re the one who suddenly decided to sketch me. Maybe you should have checked my wardrobe choices first!” Harry said, sounding more than a little angry that Draco wanted him to change.

“You usually dress better than this though!” Draco complained.

Harry looked down at himself. A white t-shirt emblazoned with the name of a band he liked “The Weird Sisters”, the apparently detestable baggy black shorts that everyone his age and younger were wearing, and black runners that he’d shoved on without socks. He liked sandals as much as he liked proper shorts. It was summer! What was he supposed to wear?

To answer that, he looked over at Draco, and rolled his eyes, and mentally cursed himself for bothering to look. Dressed in a long sleeved white button-down shirt and loose tan cargos, Draco looked the picture of comfort and style. While he also refused to wear sandals, Harry could see white ankle socks peeking out from the loafer that covered the foot crossed over his leg.

“I’m fine! You’re the one that dresses like he’s fifty! Going to the golf club later?” Harry asked sarcastically.

“No, I was planning on going to a night club, but there goes inviting you.” Draco said in response, clearly irked by Harry’s statement about his clothing, but not showing it.

For the twenty-five-years-old that they both were, they looked perfect in their own separate ways. Draco showed a refined side to the age, a maturity that had been crafted for years by his upbringing. Harry, showed a relaxed side, a casual I’m-ready-for-anything attitude. And since he wasn’t brought up to be a Malfoy, he didn’t have the refine tastes like Draco did. He was pretty sure he didn’t want them either. Being gay didn’t make him anymore fashion conscious either.

“You’re going to a night club? And what are you going to wear? A tuxedo?” Harry knew perfectly well that Draco had been out clubbing plenty of times with his cousin, and that he probably had the wear for it, but that wasn’t going to stop him making comments in an argument.

“No, Potter, I’d planned on wearing leather. But then again, maybe I should just go dressed as you are, to ensure that I will not be hit on by anyone, male or female.”

Oh no. He had not just said that Harry couldn’t get dates. That was it.

“We’re going shopping.” Both exclaimed in unison.

xxXxx

Since Draco had intended to invite him to the club anyways, he was outfitting Harry for that, along with a few more things like his own. Harry was doing the opposite, convinced without a doubt that t-shirts would not kill Draco if he wore them. Then again, if anyone ever decided to strangle the blond with one, Harry wouldn’t blame them. He was beginning to see the positives to that idea.

Harry stood in front of at least four mirrors, on a slightly raised pedestal, wearing leather pants that moulded perfectly to his ass, much to Draco’s delight. His upper half wore a skin-tight black tank top, a fishnet shirt underneath.

“See, because of your naturally dark hair and your bright eyes, you can pull off the dark look. No, don’t call it Goth, that’s disgusting. You just look better in dark colours. I, on the other hand, don’t pull it off nearly as well. I can sometimes. Mostly though, I look like a retro Billy Idol. Thank god I don’t have anything pierced, or it’d be worse.” Draco went on, as he spun Harry on the dais.

Harry just rolled his eyes for the millionth time that day, and jumped down, now going around the store and choosing things for Draco. Shoving a pile in the other man’s arms, he commanded him to try them on.

“I can’t wear red.” Draco said, throwing anything red that Harry had picked out, over the changing room door. Harry caught each piece and put them on the rack. He’d known that, but thought it worth a try.

Draco came out wearing a dark forest green long sleeved t-shirt and dark blue jeans with a pair of trainers. “Absolutely not.” he said, handing every pair of board shorts over to Harry. He just sighed, and set them aside.

“There. We already knew green was your colour, but don’t you feel more comfortable? Jeans do take a while to break in, but they’re really comfortable too. And trainers are better for this outfit.” Harry told him, watching Draco check himself out in the mirrors.

Draco nodded, and admitted, “It’s not that bad.” He turned and went to try on something else.

This time Draco came out in a form fitting white t-shirt and black jeans. “I don’t think I like this.”

“Why not?” Harry asked, not seeing anything wrong with it.

“I don’t know. I just don’t like it.” Draco said, before going to try on a different outfit.

Harry left him to it, and changed out of the club wear. Draco had picked out several other things for him to wear, showing him how a dress shirt could be made casual by wearing one of his beloved t-shirts underneath. He decided he didn’t mind them either, and would be buying some of them. Gathering everything together, he waited for Draco to finish. They’d both agreed to buy something the other had chosen on this trip.

Draco came out, holding a couple of the jeans Harry had chosen, and the normal t-shirts as well as the couple long sleeved ones that he’d tried on. He looked to Harry and found him ready to go. “Satisfied?” He asked sarcastically, referring to the fact that he’d gotten him to wear casual clothing, as well as inquiring to how he felt about his own choices.

“Very.” Harry said, leading them to the check out.

xxXxx

They went back to Draco’s warehouse to get ready, Draco having been serious about inviting Harry to the club this evening. Harry changed back into the outfit that had been chosen for him at the store, and found himself admiring it, knowing it wasn’t as bad as some of the things people wore to go clubbing. Or didn’t wear. Draco came out wearing his own pair of leather pants and one of the t-shirts that Harry had picked out earlier, that managed to hide everything, yet reveal it all the same. Harry tired very very hard not to let his jaw drop, or to drool, and to remember that this was his friend. His very sexy friend. Oh hell. With thoughts like that, he was doomed.

“You look great.” He managed after realizing he had been staring at Draco for an abnormally long time without saying anything.

Draco nodded in affirmation. “Thank you. As do you, but I don’t think you’re done yet.”

Harry followed him back into his bedroom, where Draco gave him several accessories to wear. A black collar with a loop for tags but was otherwise plain, a couple armbands and wide bracelets, and yes, a silver chain to complete it. Harry raised a questioning brow as all this was pulled out and handed to him, but he wasn’t sure if he wanted to ask the question. Especially about the collar. It looked rather… slave-ish, not like many he’d seen with spikes covering them.

Draco caught the look, and answered the still unasked question. “It’s Jin’s. He’s always leaving things here, and taking my things back. Like right now, I can’t find my favourite armband. My bet is he’s wearing it as we speak.”

“Ah.” Harry replied, not sure what else to say. He snapped the collar on, and followed it with the armbands and bracelets, only needed Draco’s help to get them on a couple times.

Once they were finished, Draco stepped back to take a good look at Harry and himself. Nodding his head in satisfaction, he moved toward the door.

“Let’s get going.”

They walked in the door and were instantly assaulted by all the sensory overloads that make up a night club. Pulsating, flashing, sweeping strobe lights in several hues blinded their eyes momentarily; Soul shaking, pounding bass and music flooded their ears, making their bodies positively hum with it. Even if they had wanted to smell anything, they wouldn’t have been able to with all the scents of sweat, sex, lust, and desire permeating the room. Not to mention all the perfume and cologne that battled for dominance as well. Touch was heightened and excited as dancers and other club patrons swirled around them, catching them up in the wave, brushing lightly against, seductively; grinding hard, lust evident in every hip thrust and shake.

They were propelled directly into the center of this, and soon found themselves joining in on the irrepressible urge to dance with anyone they came into close contact with. Harry soon found himself surround by males and females alike, grinding, thrusting, teasing, and seducing him all at once. The crowd surrounding him became decidedly more male when Harry responded most enthusiastically to the gyrations of one male against his front.

Draco found himself in a similar situation, more girls flocked to him though, at the sight of his gorgeous face, and in wonderment at what his tight t-shirt might be hiding. He moved against them rhythmically, at home in this crowd that he’d been a part of since his days at the private school, where he would sneak out with friends to the newest hot clubs. He’d caught more than just the girls’ attention though, and had a number of male admirers surrounding him as well, vying for a spot close enough to brush against him as they danced.

Hands on the hips of a slim young boy, Harry had an odd feeling run under his skin, causing him to look in the direction he had last seen Draco. He found him grinding sensually back against another man, who leaned down and murmured something in Draco’s ear. Silver eyes opened, and he nodded in agreement to whatever it was the other had said, and followed him off the dance floor.

Harry watched, mixed feelings forming in the pit of his stomach as the man pulled Draco close to him on one of the couches off to the side of the room, and slid his fingers down Draco’s cheek. He said something, and Draco flushed, laughing slightly as he looked down at the floor, before looking back up at him through his long lashes. Harry could practically feel the fire that radiated from the stranger’s eyes at the innocent look Draco gave him. A spark of success at having captured his prey so easily appeared, nearly shadowing the lust in the other’s eyes.

A breath of surprise whooshed from Harry’s lungs as he watched them come together. The man leaned down to capture Draco’s full lips, as the blond leaned up into the barest caresses of lips. It deepened quickly and sensually, unlike most first kisses that occur between strangers. Draco brought his hands up, and twined them around the other’s neck, stroking his fingers through the strands and twisting in them, drawing the stranger closer.

Harry didn’t notice that he was now out-right scowling in their direction, but the boy he held in his hands did, and sought to draw his attention back to the proper place. Long fingers grasped his chin, and gently but forcefully guided him back to the one in front of him. Blinking out of it, he looked down at the young thing in his arms. Satisfied that Harry’s attention was now where it should be, the boy started his own seduction of his half of the pair, grinding slowly and purposely against Harry’s crotch. His own arms wrapped around Harry’s neck as he worked their lower bodies together, arousing Harry despite himself. Hot breath ghosted on his neck, and a hard kiss was pressed against the skin next to the collar he wore, before teeth sunk into it. Harry gasped in surprised, which quickly turned to lust as the wound was licked over in a healing manner.

Moving back from the boy’s attack on his neck, he looked down into deep pools of blue filled with want for him. No one had stared at him like that in the longest time, and he felt himself beginning to weaken to the little nymph’s advances. Risking another glance over to the couch where Draco was, he found him still in the midst of snogging the older stranger. After claiming so adamantly that he was only after Harry, this was a bit off course.

Feeling a strong surge of jealously boil up again, he shifted his gaze back to the boy, and smiled his most charming smile. This time, it was he who had the boy gasping in delight as he closed the distance remaining between them and took the boy’s lips, devouring them wholly. His tongue met no resistance as he thrust into the all too willing mouth, tasting the foreign feel of it, and enjoying it himself some what.

Eventually, he broke away, leaving the younger boy panting and shivering against him. He wasn’t feeling nearly as affected, but drew the kid away from the dance floor to get them both a drink.

Propping himself up against the bar as he sat on the tall stool, he scanned the room, pretending to watch everyone, while it was actually a casual way to check where Draco was. And he wasn’t on the couch anymore. Harry glowered into his glass as he drank down the amber liquid. He scanned the room again, looking for white-blond hair as the boy next to him tried to strike up a conversation. He had little success as Harry wasn’t exactly an eagerly participating member of it.

The boy gave him a fairly good glare. It had nothing on Draco’s Glare, but it was effective enough. “What’s wrong with you? You after that blond you came in with? Doesn’t seem like he wants you they way you do.” He remarked cattily.

Harry, however, had developed his own rather frightening stare. “Not that it’s any business of yours, but no, I’m not. I’m just making sure my friend is safe.” Ah, what a smooth and adept lie! Too bad that only Harry was the only one fooled by it.

“Whatever.” The boy huffed, grabbing his drink and sliding off away from Harry. Keeping his pout in place would ensure he caught another one soon enough.

Harry just stared after him, not in the least bit caring, until his vision was blocked by the long sought after white-blond-ness. “Draco.” He managed civilly, before taking in his friend’s appearance. His eyes were glazed with old lust, now burned through to anger, and a touch of fear. He had a hickey to rival Harry’s, forming an ugly colour on his unblemished collarbone. The high flush on his cheeks did nothing to help the look, and his heavy breathing wasn’t lightening him to Harry’s softer side either. “You look satisfied.”

“I’m not, you prat.” Draco snarled at him. “Attempted rape of my person is not my idea of fun, nor what I would call satisfactory.”

Harry’s eyes widened and he choked on the mouthful of burning alcohol he’d just taken. “What? Who? Not that one you were all cosy with earlier!” Harry raged.

“Yes, that would be the one. Seems he thinks I’m quite the submissive, and as such, should willingly let him have his bloody way with me.” Draco told him false calmly. “Now, I need you to get me out of here. He’s walking towards us right now. Preferably do something to express your complete dominance over me, and anger that I’ve cheated on you.”

What. The. Fuck. Did Draco think he could just pull something like this off at the drop of a hat? Apparently, the way he was glaring at him now. Taking a deep breath, he got up from his stool, and dragged Draco roughly down after him.

“I can not fucking believe you! You stupid slut! Don’t you ever touch another man again, or you’re dead!” Harry threatened, loud enough for several people to overhear.

Normally, this sort of thing would be dealt with harshly. Harry may even have had a possibility of being arrested, merely for the threats. But especially for what he did next. Turning, he back-handed Draco onto the floor.

But as they were in the middle of a club, things just stopped, and people watched as a Dom reasserted his hold over his submissive.

“Get up you filthy piece of trash! You fucking slut! You’re lucky you aren’t dead now!” Harry continued to yell at the now shaking Draco on the floor, dragging him up by the arm, and propelling him roughly across the dance floor and out the door. The activities of the club started up again once they were outside, and only a few found enough interest to gossip about what had just occured.

Safely a block away, Harry pulled up short, and drew the other into an alley. “Oh, Draco, I’m so so sorry.” He spontaneously hugged the still shaking artist, running a hand through his hair, and holding him close. A few harsh sobs struck the air, freezing Harry’s heart in his chest. After a few moments, they stopped, until Draco was just clutching his shirt and silently crying into it.

“Are you all right? Stupid question, of course you’re not.” Harry said, lifting Draco’s chin up a little into the light from the street.

“I-I was so scared. The whole time I was telling you about him. The whole time he was doing things to me. The whole time you yelled at me.” Draco whispered softly, turning his teary eyes away from Harry.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t want you to get hurt.” Harry whispered back, holding him close in a hug again. “I’m never doing that again.”

“Good. Cause it was bloody awful.” Draco gave a hoarse choking laugh, and a weak smile.

“It was.” Harry agreed, smiling warmly at him. Draco looked at him with watery eyes, a touch happier now that he was freed from the fear of rape, and from Harry’s verbal attack. He looked so light and innocent, and Harry dreaded to think what would have become of him if he’d been left alone with the vile stranger.

Without a thought to it, he captured those sweet lips, already reddened from another’s harsh kiss. This one was a healing kiss, and it soothed both of them, like a light spreading out and warming each. It was different from their previous kisses, a different sort of lightening striking them now.

Harry could have died in that sweet, pure moment.

Draco too.

xxXxx

That night, Harry took Draco home, and tucked him up in his bed, snuggling down next to him. His arms wound around the other protectively, determined to prevent any more horror from occurring that night. Draco seemed to drop of easily enough, but Harry found it harder to do.

Because of him, Draco had been hurt tonight, and could have had worse done, had he not been there to take him away. If they had just gone in together as a couple and stayed together, no one would have bothered either of them. No matter if it was the jealously and hurt he’d felt when Draco had chosen another, or when Draco had told him of the betrayal turned on him. It was painful, and it seriously hurt anyway he thought about it. He might have been sort of all right if it had just been a dance and a snog… but this…he would never have been able to survive if that had happened to Draco. The guilt and loss (for he was sure Draco would have been felt for dead) would have overcome him, and the blame he placed on himself would be endless.

This whole night just cinched it. Harry loved Draco, and had for a long time. It was time he recognized that, and stopped hurting the both of them.

xxXxx

Draco woke abruptly in the morning, the sun just beginning to crest over the edge of the river, visible in the distance out a tall window. He puzzled at that for a moment. His windows didn’t have views of the river from them. He remembered last night, something he didn’t really wish to recall so early on a perfect morning, but his mind did not listen to him. Turning over, Draco caught the sight of dark tussled hair sticking up from the sheets. Harry still slept next to him, and one arm was still around his waist. Reaching over, he brushed strands back from the face of his protector, before moving his hand down and shaking his shoulder. “Harry! Wake up! Did you see this view you have? We’ve got to go paint it.”

“Eh? Mmph. Draco? What time- it’s bloody 6 am! Go back to sleep!”

“No! It is you who must wake up! We are going to paint that sunrise!”

“Draco, you can do that anytime. I paint when it’s day out. Besides, were you not the one who was attacked last night?”

“Precisely. That, my dear protector, is why we are going out to paint the sunrise, and be happy that I’m alive to see it.”

Harry groaned, but rolled over and out of bed anyways. “All right. We’ll paint the sunrise today.” He said, pulling on a rumpled pair of pants.

“Good. Now give me something to wear. Preferably that you don’t keep on the floor.”

Harry just glared at him, and pointed to the closet. It was going to be a long day. He smiled secretly to himself. But it would be a good day. Because he would be with Draco.

Draco bounded into Harry’s apartment, which they had left only hours ago, a happy smile on his lips. He was more than determined not to let last night get him, and was having one of the best days ever.

The same probably couldn’t be said for Harry though. He didn’t appear to have enjoyed their early morning painting session, preferring to sit on his favourite grassy knoll sipping coffee and staring at the fairly busy city. How it could possibly be this busy, this early, Harry had no idea.

So Draco painted, and Harry sat there, silently, and sometimes loudly, wishing he was still in bed.

He did brighten up considerably when Draco finally took him to get breakfast. Digging into his ham and eggs, he managed to compliment the sunrise that morning, but stopped short of saying that Draco had had a good idea of getting up to paint it.

Draco just went along with everything, as if nothing had ever happened to threaten his life or happiness. He criticized Harry’s eating habits, and got into a fight over manners, of which Harry insisted he had some – just not a lot, and Draco insisted he had none at all.

“Look, you can’t even hold your knife properly! You are going to stab someone if you keep using it like that. And it will most likely be yourself!”

“Ergh! If I’m lucky, it’ll be you I stab while holding a steak knife! Just because you grew up in a bloody manor with proper manners and butlers and whatever else, doesn’t mean everyone else learned the same set of manners you did! I don’t particularly care which fork I use for salad, thanks!”

“Well, you could stand to learn them!”

“I don’t want too!”

It finally ended with them both glaring at each other and silently finishing their meals in whatever manner they chose.

xxXxx

Harry walked into the apartment after the blond, and dropped onto the couch. Draco gracefully lowered himself into the chair beside it.

“Why are you still here? You did your painting, now you can go watch it dry in your studio.”

Draco leaned forward, resting his elbows on the arm of the chair to support himself. “Because that’s not any fun. You are though. Besides, you saved me. What if I need saving again?”

“You won’t.” Harry said, ignoring his closeness.

“I might.” He whispered close to Harry’s ear.

Harry struggled not to squirm from the tickling sensation that breath of air caused. “No, you won’t. Because you’re never going to that club again. And I don’t think you should go to any other ones for awhile.”

“Just who are you to dictate my actions? I’ll go wherever I please.” Draco sat back, smirking since Harry couldn’t see it, happy that his actions hadn’t been wasted.

“You do it to me all the time. What was that this morning?”

“Ah, you are right. I suppose I do that occasionally.”

“Occasionally? Try all the bloody time!”

“Oh hush. I do not. Well, I suppose I’ll leave you for now. Be ready by 3 though, and try to look decent will you? Maybe one of those shirts I picked for you yesterday.”

“What? Why?”

“Because we have to be at my mother’s for tea at 4, silly. What did you think? That we were going on a date?”

“No! And why am I going to tea at your mother’s? I’ve never spoken to the woman in my life!”

“Don’t talk about my mother like that. It’s most rude. We were both invited. Apparently, Jin’s been talking to her. Most likely told her something along the lines that we have been spending a great deal of time together, and that we make a good couple.”

“Wait a second. Your cousin is telling your mother we’d make a good couple? Why?”

“Some little plan of his probably. You should expect a little matchmaking as well. My mother enjoys that. Be wary of what you say though. Besides promising something suitable like a date, try not to get in too far, like marrying me and allowing me to have intercourse with some woman so the Malfoy name can be carried on. I don’t think you’re ready to commit that much to our relationship just yet.”

“WHAT! Why the hell would she try and get me to agree to THAT? As if I would! And we don’t have a relationship to speak of! Friends! Just friends! Do you remember that? You were the one who seduced me in the first place!”

“I believe it was you who seduced me. I distinctly remember it as you kissing me, not the other way around.”

“You were the one lying there looking all sexy and desirable!” Harry gasped, clamping a hand over his mouth.

Draco turned towards him, an amused grin on his mouth. “I beg your pardon? I think you just said I was ‘sexy and desirable’. Do you have something you want to tell me, perhaps?”

Harry shook his head. “I don’t have anything to tell you. I didn’t say a thing.”

“Very well. See you at three, Harry.” Draco said, showing himself out.

Harry dropped his head in his hands and groaned. “I shouldn’t have said that. I really shouldn’t have said that…”

xxXxx

When 3 O’clock rolled around, it found Harry still anxiously trying on his new dress shirts to find the best one, and perhaps a tie. It seemed he didn’t own a tie though. Slamming the side of his pinkie finger in the drawer, he let out a yell of pain and frustration.

“What the devil are you doing in here, Potter?” Draco asked, appearing suddenly in the bedroom door.

“AHHH! What are you doing in here?” Harry said, having quickly recovered from his surprise.

“The front door was unlocked, so I came in to see what you were doing.”

“Just because it’s unlocked, doesn’t mean you can just waltz in like it’s your own apartment.”

“Well, with all the yelling and cursing you were doing, I doubt you would have heard me knocking. Here.” He went over to the bed and picked up one of the least rumpled shirts of all that Harry had tried on. Black silk slid wonderfully over Harry’s arms and shoulders as he was helped into it, Draco doing up the buttons as if he was a child.

“There. Now you at least look presentable.”

“I would have been fine without your help. But thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Now, let’s get going. It’s a bit of a drive to mother’s, and we can’t be late.”

“Oh no. Mustn’t be late. Wouldn’t do at all.” Harry mocked.

“Watch it, Potter. You’re lucky it’s only a curious tea. It could be far worse.”

“I don’t see how.”

Grimacing, Draco straightened his collar and ignored Harry.

xxXxx

“Welcome, dear. Lovely to see you. You really should get out of that studio more often and come visit your dear mum… and I suppose this is Mr. Potter? Nice to meet you, dear. Come in, come in, I won’t have you standing on the doorstep all evening…” Narcissa greeted the both of them.

“Hello mother, yes, this is Harry, and I do go out. I went out last night and nearly died, all right with you?”

“Don’t talk to your mother that way, Draco. I taught you better manners than that.” Narcissa admonished him.

Draco lifted a sleek eyebrow in Harry’s direction, clearly saying ‘I told you so.’

Harry rolled his eyes. His manners were fine. “Thank you, Mrs. Malfoy. It was nice to be invited. Even if Draco neglected to tell me until just this morning.”

“Draco! You must give your guests more advance warning than just that. Really, where have your manners gone? Mr. Potter has a fine set of them. Maybe you should borrow a few.”

Draco glared. Harry grinned.

“Why, thank you, Mrs. Malfoy. But I’m sure Draco’s are better than mine. Just this morning he was complaining about how I held my knife.”

“Draco, it took me four years to teach you how to hold one properly. You can’t judge anyone else.” Narcissa said, leading them into the drawing room. “And call me Narcissa, dear. Mrs. Malfoy makes me feel older than I am.”

Draco’s glare deepened, and Harry looked positively elated. “I’ll do that, Narcissa.” He looked around the new room he found himself in.

“You have a very lovely home from what I’ve seen so far. Draco was very lucky to grow up in such a place. Is that a Van Gogh on the wall there? Amazing.”

“Oh, yes it is. My husband bought it for my birthday one year. Knowing him though, it’s probably a fake.”

“Well, even still, it’s a lovely painting and the sunflowers really brighten up the room.”

“Why, thank you. That’s nice of you to say.” Narcissa said, glowing a little at the compliment. They sat, Draco and Harry on the couch – though Draco chose to sit as far away as possible, while Narcissa had the chair near them.

A young little maid came in, and set a silver tea service on the table next to Narcissa.

“Thank you, Bitty.” She said as the maid made a polite little bow and left the room. “How do you take your tea, Harry?” She asked, pouring some of the warm liquid into a fine china teacup.

“Quite a lot of sugar and a bit of milk. Ruins it perhaps, but I like it so I can taste the sugar.”

Narcissa nodded and handed him the cup and saucer before fixing Draco’s, already knowing how he liked his.

“Jin tells me the two of you have been spending a lot of time together.” Narcissa stated, getting right to the point.

“Yes, that’s true. We have been.” Harry confirmed.

“He’s in my class mother, I invited him out for coffee a couple times, nothing to it.”

“Jin doesn’t seem to think so. He tells me you make a… ‘cute couple’.”

“Jin thinks everyone makes a cute couple.” Draco told her, rolling his eyes.

“Draco, don’t say things like that. And he must have had a reason.” She said, eyeing the two of them over the rim of her cup.

“Even if he did, it’s not the kind of thing I relish discussing with my mother.”

“Draco!” Narcissa admonished him. “Really! I won’t take that from you in my own home!”

“I’m sorry, Narcissa, I don’t know what’s wrong with him. He was happy this morning.”

“Well, maybe I would be happier if someone wasn’t getting all cosy with my mother! Especially since that someone didn’t want to come in the first place!”

“I apologize Narcissa. Apparently, Draco wasn’t as eager to have me meet you as he made it seem he was.”

“That’s all right. He’s just having an off day. Drink your tea, dear.” She assured him.

Harry did as he was told, sipping the warm liquid. “As for our… relationship, your son and I are not dating. He has made it more than plain that he wishes to have a relationship with me, but I told him I only wanted to be friends. I’ve promised him to think about it, and who knows? With a few recent events, I might be changing my mind. As irritable as he is now, he’s an amazing young man, and you should be proud.” He sat back, taking another sip of the tea.

Narcissa raised a single blond eyebrow, which arched beautifully, and looked at Harry. "Draco wants more and you don't? If you think he's an amazing young man, then why not give it a chance?" she asked, casting a glance at her son.

Harry flushed and set down his cup. "Well, no, that's not really what I meant. I mean, he is amazing, as in what he's achieved and done in his life. Many people our age have yet to do even half of what he has. I just disagree that we would make a good couple."

"Well, dear, if you disagree about being a good couple, why even mention that you might change your mind."

"Um... because I told him I would think about it. Look, I just had a terrible break up not that long ago, and I realized some things about myself. So I've decided not to date anyone for a while. Your son included."

Narcissa shook her head, clucking her tongue. "Oh dear. If that's the case, you shouldn't have given Draco any hope. You'll just hurt him later on should you not want to be with him," she murmured, as if worried for her son's heart, which she knew would survive anything. After all, he was a Malfoy.

"I... uhh... er, I didn't think of that actually. But it doesn't matter, he'd be more hurt with me."

Narcissa snorted, but with her, it sounded lady-like. "Oh, tish-tosh. Unrequited love always hurts worse than giving it a chance and it not working."

Harry just gaped at her. He didn't have any arguments left for this woman. He turned to Draco. "Do something will you?" He hissed at him.

Draco turned a bored look on him. "And what, pray tell, do you expect me to do? She's my mother, making arguments in my favor. I have nothing to say."

Harry stared again, made a strangled noise in his throat, and drank more tea. Maybe he would choke on it, and this nightmare would end.

He did choke slightly, but Draco merely thumped him on the back before addressing his mother. "Thank you mother, but I don't mind waiting a little for Harry. He'll make the right decision soon."

Narcissa smiled sweetly. "Oh, of course he will, Draco. I was just hoping he'd stop toying with you before you really got hurt. I don't want a repeat of you hiding in your room for a month."

Now, the fact that Draco had hid in his room was because of something very embarrassing. Something he would never tell Harry, which also played into Narcissa’s matchmaking plans.

"Mother... don't. Please. I'm not going to get hurt. I have a solution." Draco said, looking a little frightened at what she might share.

Harry was a little curious now. He wondered what had kept Draco hidden in his room for a month, but he didn't want Narcissa to keep trying to set them up. And he had a feeling that this story would be part of it.

Narcissia sighed, sitting back and pouting softly. "Well, do let me know if your status changes, won't you?

“Will do, m’am.”

Narcissa smiled and nodded, before snapping at Draco to straighten up.

Draco just sighed, and let Harry and his mother talk about other things in their lives.

xxXxx

Harry opened the door to his apartment later that evening, and Draco breezed in after him. It seemed he no longer liked to live in his own apartment.

“Well.” Draco stated.

Harry rolled his eyes. “Well what, Draco? And are you ever going home?”

“Not right now, I’m not.” He flopped down onto the chair. “You and my mother seemed to get along.”

“You wanted us too. Is that why you’re so snotty today? We acted civil together, she complimented my manners and invited me back at anytime – with or without you. Is that the problem?”

“Yes.” Draco pouted.

Harry sighed, and ran a hand through his brunet locks, sticking them up further. “You are absolutely impossible. You know that don’t you? Thank the stars I said no to you. Ha! As if that helped! I still have to deal with your crap everyday!”

“We don’t even see each other every day. Maybe every other.”

“There you go again! Do you have to separate every little thing! Geez!”

Draco stared at him. “I think we switched somewhere in between walking in the door and sitting down. You’re angry, I’m calm.”

Harry stared at him. He sat down on the couch, his head in his hands, and laughed. Loudly, and for quite a number of minutes.

Finally, Draco looked at him with a bored expression and asked; “Are you quite done?”

Harry wiped the tears from his eyes. “Y-yeah. I’m done.”

“Good.”

Harry leaned forward over the couch, to the chair, getting right into Draco’s personal space. “Draco Malfoy, you are something else.” He told him, moving even closer and kissing the rather surprised blond.

It was over before he could say anything, and Harry was up and moving away. “Now, get your clothes and get out of my apartment.” He said, shutting the door to the bathroom on anything Draco might protest.

Draco sat there, shocked expression painted on his face. Slowly, he went and gathered up his clothes, deciding to give Harry’s back to him next time, and left.

xxXxx

Harry let his head fall back against the door as he heard Draco leave.

‘About time.’He thought to himself. He hadn’t really known what he was doing, but this whole day and the night before had been absolutely insane. He stripped of his clothes and got into the shower. Maybe if he just slept, he would wake up and everything would be normal. He knew it wasn’t a dream. That was the only thing he knew for sure.

And maybe you just need to stop ignoring everything, and admit you like him as more than a friend. Maybe even love him.

Harry didn’t know where this inner voice was coming from, but he quickly shut it up. It was wrong. Completely wrong.

The inner voice just sighed and wished for a heavy object – like a frying pan - to hit Harry over the head with. Maybe then he would finally get it.

Sometimes admitting you were falling in love took a very long while.

xxXxx

Harry was relaxing in his nice, quiet, empty apartment, when the telephone rang. Bright green eyes popped open, and displeasure was evident in them. Snatching the annoying ringing box up from the coffee table, he growled into it:

“What do you want Draco?”

It was only the tenth time in the past hour and a half that he’d called.

“Please. I’m begging you. Let me paint you. Come down to the studio, pose for a little while, then I’ll take you out.”

“I don’t want to go anywhere with you, and I don’t want you to paint me either!” Harry said, repeating himself for the trillionth time that morning. This was getting to be quite stupid.

“Why not! I never got to finish my sketches last week!” Draco said, indignant and annoyed that Harry kept blowing him off, not just today, but since the tea at his mother’s last week as well.

“That’s because we got into a fight about clothes, went shopping, and then there was something else… oh yeah, I remember. You decided to go out and get raped and murdered!”

Draco screamed, literally, in anger and frustration. “Don’t be such a bitch, Harry! It’s not like I could control that!”

“Maybe if you stopped dressing like a slut every time you went out, and didn’t invite it to happen, then you wouldn’t have these problems!”

“I was wearing more than you!” He screeched. “And what’s wrong with having a dance and a kiss? Just because I’m not anti-social like you are!”

Harry clamped his mouth shut in an angry line, refusing to say anything else. He didn’t hang up this time though. He could hear Draco take several deep, calming breaths.

“Harry, I’m sorry. You’re right. It’s completely my fault. I just wanted to go out and have a bit of fun with you, but I guess that was a bad idea.”

Harry sighed and rolled his eyes. Sure. Just lay on the guilt. He was worried about the artist, but like everything else – he wouldn’t admit it.

“I’ll be there in ten.”

xxXxx

Draco opened the door, smiling when he saw Harry, though he looked rumpled and as if he’d gotten dressed off the bedroom floor (which is how it usually worked anyways), at least he was there. Harry walked by him into the studio, shedding his jacket he’d worn, since the day had been colder than it had been recently. Probably an early sign of autumn.

“Where do you want me?” Harry asked, looking around with a slight glare.

“Actually, I’m set up in the bedroom.” Draco told him, brushing past as he walked back to his room. He bit his lip and wondered if he was doing the right thing.

‘Of course I am! There’s nothing wrong with it!’ he mentally assured himself. But after months of creating pieces based on Harry and his gorgeous eyes, to finally have him pose for a painting was a dream come true.

Harry said nothing as he followed Draco back to the bedroom, determined not to think of anything. They stopped at the doorway – or Draco stopped and Harry practically walked into him. “What?” He grunted in question.

“Nothing. Just wondering if this is all right.” Draco answered.

“I said I would let you paint me. I didn’t necessarily say you could paint me on your bed, but I suppose that’s all right as well.”

Draco just nodded, and gestured for him to enter.

Harry did so, and found himself staring around, feeling slightly uncomfortable. He’d only been in here once, when Draco had been getting ready and hurt himself. He hadn’t exactly had time to admire the décor at that time. He wasn’t surprised to find it decorated in dark greens and silver, since those two were colours that Draco really seemed to favour, and he wore or used them a lot. The furniture was dark, most of it probably made from walnut and polished to a high sheen. A small chaise lounge and chair sat by the fire place, and a chair was placed in front of the dressing table mirror. They were covered in dark green brocade with many eastern-style silver dragons embroidered onto them. The bed itself, where Harry was to pose, was lavish in its black silk sheets, and black and silver stitched duvet. It was a little imposing, and he felt as if he must have somehow accidentally managed to slip into a room in the palace across the river.

“Do you actually sleep here, or is this just for decoration?” He found himself asking with no small amount of surprise.

“Yes, Potter, I actually sleep here. I brought it all from the Manor. It’s not like I’m using it there anymore.” Draco said, not quite sure if he was being insulted or not, but taking it that way.

“Sorry. It’s gorgeous, but it just surprised me I guess. Though it shouldn’t have, considering it’s you.”

“Potter, I suggest you stop talking and strip before you insult me further. I think we had enough of that this morning.”

“Sorry Draco.” Harry said, moving over closer to the bed.

“Stop apologizing already and take off your shirt.”

Looking back at the blond, he watched him for a second as he organized his tools on the drop cloth at the foot of the bed. He seemed to be pointedly not looking in Harry’s direction, giving him a small bit of privacy to change and get settled in his pose.

Harry removed his shirt, and then his jeans as well, since he didn’t feel comfortable wearing them in Draco’s gorgeous bed. At least his black underwear matched it. He lifted back the covers, and slid under, instantly loving the smooth glide of the silk against his skin. Draco came over when he was ready, and folded back the duvet, taking it completely off the bed and throwing it on the floor haphazardly. The sheet was pulled down Harry’s chest slowly, coming to rest low on his hips. He felt very… exposed.

Draco moved away from him, and sat on his stool to look at the whole picture. “You need to relax. And it would help if you looked a little more smoulderingly sexy, not ‘I’m-so-innocent-and-exposed-help-me’.”

Harry frowned, and tried. He settled back onto the bed, one arm flung behind his head as the other rested awkwardly on his chest. He tried to make his expression “sexy” as well, but it wasn’t working.

Draco stared at him. “This isn’t the Titanic, Harry, and you’re not Rose. Please try and pretend you’re male.”

Harry scowled at him. “This isn’t exactly cake, you know. You never said you wanted me to pose in your bed.”

“I figured it would be a bit harder to find someone else’s bed to do this in. Just relax. Pretend that you’re looking at your lover, willing them to come to you, to ravish you.”

It was Harry’s turn to stare at him. “Been reading Harlequin Romances have we?”

“No, that stuff is trash. I just know how to talk like who I am; an artist.”

Harry rolled his eyes, and shifted his pose. Again, Draco didn’t like it. “Come on. You’re supposed to look like you’re anticipating the best sex of your life, or that you just had the best sex of your life.”

“Well, I’m not, and I haven’t, so it’s a little harder than you would think.” Harry grumbled, frowning. They had been at this for half and hour already, and weren’t getting anywhere.

It was then that Draco had what he would call a brilliant idea. Harry would just be aghast.

He moved towards the bed, and placed a knee on it. He began crawling on all fours towards Harry, who stared at him as if he had lost his mind, and tried to move further back. Pale hands gripping his calves like iron stopped his escape. Draco continued to crawl up his body, looking like a predatory cat. Harry caught his breath, and tried to back away again. Finally, Draco was situated above him, a wicked smile on his lips.

“Umm… Draco?” Harry tried to ask before he was cut off.

Draco pressed his lips to Harry’s, soft yet demanding, his tongue sweeping gently across the seam of his lips, coaxing them to open. Harry opened under this sensual attack, more from shock than wanting more. That changed as Draco duelled him within his mouth, shocking and tickling him. He had to have more suddenly, and propped himself on one elbow to pull Draco closer to him while he returned the passionate kiss.

A final stroke of his tongue against Harry’s and Draco was pulling away, smirking with deep satisfaction at his work. Harry fell back on both arms, staring heatedly at Draco. His mind still wasn’t sure what had happened, but it wasn’t in any hurry to catch up and figure it out. Draco slipped off the bed, and snatched up his camera from the table beside his easel where his paints lay. He snapped several pictures of Harry as quickly as he could, before he ended up catching the surprised look, and not the sexy one.

“Draco…?” Harry asked, watching him set the camera back down. “What was that?”

“That, my friend, was inspiration. I knew what the look was that I wanted, so I created it.” He told him smugly.

Harry looked away, and was lost in thought for a moment.

“I’m going then. You took pictures, you don’t need me.” He threw off the covers and got off the bed, picking up his shed clothes and walking to the door. He had nearly made it, when Draco came from behind and spun him around, slamming him up against the wall. Harry, slightly dizzy from being spun so quickly, let it happen, but then pushed Draco off when he realized he was kissing him again.

Swiping his hand fiercely across his mouth, he wiped off the kiss. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Mmm… seducing you.” Draco told him truthfully, pressing up against him, and brushing his fingers over Harry’s neck before kissing that spot and sucking strongly upon the pulse beating heavily under his skin.

“S-stop. Stop it Draco.” Harry told him, the harsh effect ruined by the breathy quality that his voice had taken on. It was too good to resist any longer, but so much of him was screaming that it wasn’t what he wanted. He looked up to him, pleading for him to let go. “You don’t need this… need me.”

“You’re wrong. I do need you. I want you so much, it hurts Harry. Lying here alone at night, thinking of that one time we shared and the spare kisses we had. You’ve changed so much since then. What did I do? Why do you deny me and cause me to suffer like this?” Draco begged him, looking up pleadingly at him, unshed tears threatening to spill over at the first chance they got.

Harry stared at him, wondering about the answers to those questions himself. “I-I…I’m scared. Everyone I’ve been with, every relationship I’ve had has ended because of me. I always hurt the one I’m with. And I don’t want to hurt you.” He confessed in a tumble of feelings that wouldn’t be contained anymore. It felt so much better to have let it out. He should have stopped being a fool earlier.

Draco smiled sweetly up at him. “Prat. Do you really think I’d let you hurt me? You’d never get away with it even if you managed it. I am a Malfoy after all; we know our revenge.”

Harry couldn’t decide what was wrong with them. He wasn’t prone to confessing things like that, and he had been saying all this time that he didn’t want to be with Draco. Why the change? Was it guilt from their earlier arguments? Or the fact that he was still aroused from the kiss earlier, Draco’s attack on his neck, and the fact that he was still pressed against him.

“I think I caught something. A weird cold or something. We sound like sappy characters from those trashy romance novels. Maybe you read too many, and like, infected me with it.” Harry said, wondering how possible it could be. Highly possible, since he was used to making himself believe anything.

Draco paused as he replayed the conversation they had just had in his head. “Oh gods. You’re right. That’s scary. Well, even if I haven’t infected you with it, we might as well go with it. Romance novels sometimes have pretty good sex scenes.”

“Only you would know.” Harry said, again trying to push him away and get his pants back on.

Draco put his hand to Harry’s groin, unable to have missed that during all this. He massaged the semi-hard length gently, looking up at Harry. “See. You do want this. You want me like I want you.”

Harry vainly tried to remove Draco’s hand, but his grip was tight, and – ah hell. It felt really really good. His lips came crashing down on the blond’s, stealing his breath and taking it into his own lungs. His tongue invaded the willing mouth, and he licked up all the taste of Draco he could before he pulled away to breathe.

“Fine. You win. Sex it is.”

“About damn time I convinced you. Get over here.” He said, dragging Harry over to the bed, moving his hand from his crotch to Harry’s own hand.

Harry followed; falling over back onto the bed as Draco practically flung him there, and crawled up over him. Pulling the artist back down into another kiss, he made it lazy and soft. Sweet, the kind of kiss that left you wanting more. And Draco certainly wanted more. Not happy with Harry’s less than spectacular kiss, he growled, asserting his dominance with a more powerful kiss; hot and bruising, full of desire.

Harry moaned, bucking up slightly against Draco. He noted that Draco was still fully dressed, while he had been near naked practically since he’d walked in the door. His hands moved down over the material of Draco’s shirt, pulling the shirt out of his pants. He stroked the bared patch of skin, pushing his fingers underneath the slacks. Hands moving to the front, he made short work of the belt holding up Draco’s pants, undoing them when that obstacle was out of the way.

Draco moved off of Harry, fully removing his pants and unbuttoning his shirt. Tossing it all carelessly on the floor – and Harry had been expecting him to fold it – He came back to Harry, claiming his lips again, gently gliding his hands down the lightly toned chest. Reaching the waist of his tight boxers, Draco paused. Harry broke the kiss, looking up to him.

“What?”

“Nothing. Can’t believe you’re letting me do this.”

Harry smirked. “I think it’s more that I’ve finally lost my mind. Sane or not, you have to continue now.”

With his permission, Draco peeled back the shorts with Harry lifting his hips to help him out. They were slowly pulled down and off, Harry sucking in a tight breath as his arousal was exposed to the cooler air. Draco stared greedily at the bared flesh, feeling his own erection grow harder. Harry was beautiful, naked on his bed. He was beautiful any other time, but more so now. He drank in the sight, savouring every inch, every rise and fall of his chest. He didn’t know when he’d have Harry like this again.

A sudden urge had him hugging Harry to him, loving the feel of naked skin against naked skin. Could it get any better?

His passionate heart was too caught up in this, and all they’d done was exchange a few kisses. Calming himself - he wasn’t a horny fifth year anymore – he kissed Harry again, bringing the brunet’s arms up above his head, and holding them there. He moved downwards, lapping at his chest, slowly moving towards his stomach. Draco nipped at the delicate flesh over his taunt stomach, enjoying the sight of it flexing in pleasure.

Harry held Draco to his stomach as he laved his tongue over the small bite, then alternated between bites and licks as he left his mark. Finally satisfied that his property was marked, Draco leaned back upwards to place a kiss against Harry’s lips. Distracting him there, his hand slithered down between their bodies, stroking Harry’s cock with long, slow, languid movements, building up the heat and tension all ready coiling in the both of them.

Harry revelled in the almost curious way in which they kissed and touched. They stayed together, only kissing and touching for a long time, until Harry suddenly arched up into Draco’s hand on his cock, copious amounts of white fluid leaking over their hands. He lay back panting, as Draco finished himself off. He heard Draco calling his name as he came, the cries impassioned and cutting through him with a shock. How he’d love to hear his name fall from those sweet red lips like that more often.

“Harry… HARRY!”

“Hmm? What Draco?” He asked the other man. He felt himself being shaken, and struggled against the pull of sleep, cracking his eyes open.

Draco frowned at him, shaking him once more for good measure. “About time you woke up. All that moaning and groaning, I thought you were dying.”

Harry looked at him, highly confused. Why was he frowning? They’d just had… well, not sex, but they’d both… wait. Why was Draco fully dressed? “Draco…? What…? Why are…?”

Draco quirked a worried brow at him. “Are you feeling all right?”

“Um. Fine. I think. What, why, um. Why are you dressed already?”

“Already? I’ve been dressed all day. Since before you got here. And I didn’t take them off.”

“Then…”

“You fell asleep. Practically the moment you hit the sheets for the pose. I did get it drawn out, since you were still long enough for that. Even managed to get the expression. Whatever you were dreaming must have been interesting.” He smirked. “I woke you up when you started to sound odd though.”

“Asleep? I was… that was a… dream?”

“I would say so, whatever it was. You’ve been out for the past two hours.”

Harry flopped back down onto the bed in shock. All that… a dream? Everything, all the kisses, and touches, the… oh god. He’d had a wet dream, like some horny teenager, in Draco Malfoy’s bed! OH GOD!

Hands covering the heated blush on is face, he groaned. “I’m never reading another Harlequin Romance before bed again.”

Draco just stared at him, worried, and confused, not quite getting the mumbled sentence before shaking his head and cleaning up his paints.

xxXxx

Draco was kind in over looking Harry’s little “episode”. He had his suspicions about what had cause the dream though, and it made him feel as if he would almost have a chance with the brunet. It was hard to ignore your friend/object of desire when they were writhing and moaning your name on your gorgeous bed.

Harry, spent what he was sure were days blushing at every moment, whether he was with Draco and caught a particular look, or if he was alone with his wandering mind. Draco, however, having caught on to Harry’s tactics to avoid embarrassing situations, was sure to spend all his time with the other man, making it impossible for Harry to avoid him. So Harry had no escape. At least not one he could find.

xxXxx

“I… cough, cough… I have a cold, Draco.” Harry Potter explained to his friend. “Cough, hack… I can’t come visit you today.”

“Then I’ll bring you some soup and pick up your painting for the show.” Draco Malfoy replied, knowing full well that Harry was perfectly healthy.

“NO! I mean, er… cough, sneeze, hack, I don’t want you getting sick too.” Harry said; trying to make his voice sound as hoarse as possible as he flipped to the next page of the paper he was skimming for interesting news.

“I’ll be fine. I’m immune to many things. Sickly child and all.” Draco drawled, tired of the lying, but finding it amusing none the less.

“You were not.” Harry argued back, forgetting to make himself sound sick.

“No, I wasn’t, but since you’re lying to me, I figured I could do the same.”

Harry thumped back on the couch, caught. With this movement though, the phone was dropped to his side. Great. Just wonderful. Now he’d have to deal with the blond artist. Bringing the phone back up to his ear, he prepared to speak to Draco, who, not having received an answer in many minutes, thought that he’d passed out from a real illness.

“HARRY!”

“Stop shouting! You can come and get the damn painting, but that’s it. No staying, no going out, no nothing!” Harry growled, glaring at the wall.

“Wonderful! See you in a little while, Harry.” Draco said happily, hanging up the phone.

Harry hung up as well, and groaned.

Why? Why did this always happen to him?

xxXxx

Twenty minutes later, Harry opened the door, only to be bombarded by a blur of what appeared to be human. He found himself laid out on the floor, Draco’s lovely cousin, Jin, attached to his waist.

“HARRY! I really wanted to see you! Why were you telling Dray you were sick, silly? Didn’t you want to see us?” The teen babbled, moving to sit on Harry’s stomach.

Harry, still in shock on the floor, did not answer the teen immediately.

Draco stepped over him, moving towards his favoured chair. “No, he just tends to avoid me after embarrassing situations happen to him, just like a school girl and her crush.” He informed his cousin with a smirk.

“Harry’s a girl? Is that why he doesn’t want you?” Jin asked, perplexed by this as he moved back onto Harry’s thighs, his hand trailing down… there. “But he feels like a boy!’

Harry jumped, snapping out of his catatonic surprise as he was groped by Jin. “What the hell?! Get off!”

Jin laughed and jumped off, perching on the couch near his beloved cousin. Putting on a false pout he said: “He’s not much fun, this one, is he? Are you sure you want him?”

Draco just nodded minutely, turning the page of the paper Harry had been reading.

Harry picked himself up off the floor, unsure if he should be angry or incredibly embarrassed – again. Settling for a mix of both, he glared while blushing hotly at the both of them. “What the hell?! Don’t you control him at all?” He asked of Draco.

“He’s a teenager, Harry, not a dog. He’s just in heat like one, that’s all.” He responded, not even sparing a glance at the fuming man before him. A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as Jin smacked him on the arm.

“I am not! I was just making sure he was real! I don’t see why he wouldn’t want you.”

“Oh, he’s real. And he does want me; you can stop worrying about that, Jin.”

“How do you know that?” The teen asked eagerly, sure there had to be some good story behind how Draco knew this for a fact.

“Just trust me.” Draco replied, smirk enlarging on his lips.

“STOP TALKING ABOUT ME AS IF I’M NOT HERE!” Harry shouted at the two cousins, though glad that Draco hadn’t said anything about his ‘dream’ to the curious nineteen year old. “Go home if you’re just going to talk about me!”

Finally sparing a glance at his irate would-be-lover, Draco remained calm in the face of the storm that was Harry Potter. “Well, you’ve hardly been a hospitable host, Harry, what do you expect us to do?”

“You’ve barely been here five minutes and I’ve been knocked flat, walked over, groped, and spoken about quite rudely!” Harry listed indignantly.

“I apologize for my actions, and those of my cousin. It was incredibly rude of us, and below standard. We apologize.” Draco told him quite formally.

“Yeah, Harry, I’m sorry.” Jin put in as well, looking significantly apologetic about it. “I did just want to see you again though. I had fun with you last time.”

Was that an unshed tear in his eye? Harry couldn’t tell, being that he was across the room, but he nevertheless melted slightly at the younger male’s apology. “S’alright. Just keep the groping to yourself… Er… to… you know what I mean.”

He suddenly had another armful of blond teen as Jin yet again latched onto his waist. Frozen for a moment, Harry awkwardly patted him on the back and was released.

They were absolutely insane. That was the only word he had for it. One minute they were busting down the door and groping him (he couldn’t get it out of is head!), the next they were apologizing for said actions. Okay, so maybe most of that had been Jin, but Draco was being odd too!

Draco noticed Harry’s dying fish impression and scowled. “Pull yourself together, Potter. I’m just here for your painting. You said I couldn’t stay, right?”

“Er, yes, right. I’ll… umm… I’ll go get it then.”

“That would be an idea.”

Blushing furiously now, Harry went into his spare room, looking for his painting.

It was different then things that he usually did, but he really liked it, and although it was going to be shown (it was one of his best), he wouldn’t be selling it.

On a pale blue background, two clouds floated; one light, white fluffy cloud above a dark and ominous one. Upon those clouds, were an angel and a devil. The girl, the angel, knelt on her perfect cloud, her long white dress clinging to her pale skin. White feathered wings sprouted out from her back, graceful and beautiful for all they looked large and unwieldy. Honey blonde hair fell past her shoulder and between her wings to the middle of her back, and was pinned away from her face, showing off its glowing porcelain features. Dark lashes fell over what were probably cornflower blue eyes; cheeks lightly blushed natural, her pinked lips meeting those of the devil on the cloud below.

Black wings spread from his own back, holding his balance on the stormy cloud. Deeply tanned skin was accented by the pale softness of the angel, where their hands twined together. Black hair was fluffed messily over his head; long dark lashes hiding what could be supposed were onyx eyes. His lower half was covered by midnight robes, a thick tail curling by the soles of his feet.

The main focus was to be on their joined lips and hands. Their love. Of course, the rest of it was gorgeous, but that part was his message. He called it ‘Love: Unforbidden’ for his belief (and that of many others) that love is love, it did not matter who or what you were. The Angel/Demon example was perfect, since in old mythology, and even modern day tales, love like that was forbidden and looked down upon.

Harry carried it back out into the living room, standing it carefully on the coffee table as he held it by the edges, showing Draco and Jin for their approval – well, for Draco’s approval at least.

Draco stared at the painting Harry set in front of them. It was gorgeous, simple in its design but full of poignant power. He couldn’t tear his gaze away, instead sliding closer, taking in every detail.

“Harry… it’s so… I don’t know what to say. I love it.” Draco breathed, looking up at him finally.

“Forbidden love, huh?” Jin asked, also slightly transfixed by the painting.

“More like un-forbidden. But you got my point.” Harry said, smiling happily at their reactions.

“It’s amazing. We’ll have a lot of people wanting to buy it at the show.” Draco told him, looking happy that one of his students would be getting such positive attention like that.

“Too bad. I’m not selling it. I might lend it to the coffee shop for display and for everyone to see, but I’m not selling it.” Harry said, hands tightening on its edges.

Draco raised an eyebrow at the action. “All right. You don’t have to. We’ll just tell everyone it’s already spoken for.”

“I just don’t want to part with it, but I don’t want people to miss out on seeing it either.”

“I understand. There are a few pieces I’m showing that I won’t be selling either. I’m too attached to them.”

Harry nodded. “Exactly. Anyways. You have things to do, so here.” Harry said, moving the painting into Draco’s hands.

“You’re not going to come with us and make sure it’s okay?” Jin asked. “You’re just going to trust Draco with your art?”

“Of course. He won’t do anything to it. He’s my teacher.”

“I might.” Jin countered.

“No, you wouldn’t. If you liked spending so much time with me, then you wouldn’t. Or else I just may stop talking to you, let alone anything else. You just felt me up on my own floor. I’d think you’d be trying not to anger me. You might lose your chances.” Harry said, threatening with things that probably wouldn’t happen.

“Are you saying I have chances? After all this time of dear cousin Draco trying to win you, I actually win 'cause I groped you? Oh, that’s too good.” Jin laughed, knowing the threats weren’t real. Except the never talking to him again. That one was. The brunet would murder him for real if he did anything to the painting.

“You never know. Maybe you finally had the right approach.” Harry grinned, giving the teen a wink. He was highly amused by this conversation, and might have actually gone for Jin if he’d been the person he had been “before”. Before being when he didn’t care who he slept with, as long as they were hot, good looking, and good in bed.

“Hmm. All right. You have a deal. Your painting is safe with me, and because of that, I get a date with you. Just to make even.”

“De-…hey, hey, no you don’t. No dates.” Harry said, catching his words before he agreed to anything.

“Then I can’t be accounted for anything that happens to it. It’s not fair if you’re the only one getting anything out of this.” Jin told him, managing the aloof look his cousin always wore as he stood and went towards the door.

“Oh gods. You’re such a drama queen. Fine. I’ll take you to dinner before the show tomorrow. And I’m coming with you two now as well.” Harry conceded, afraid for his beloved masterpiece.

“And what if I wanted to take you to dinner tomorrow?” Draco finally managed to interject.

Harry looked over from where he was digging his jacket out of the closet. “You never asked.”

“I never had the chance.”

“Well, you can come with us I guess. “ Harry said.

“Nuh uh. Harry’s mine for our date. You can have him later.” Jin protested.

“Whatever. Let’s just go, all right?” Harry said, picking up his painting and walking out the door. He didn’t want to be in another argument over himself.

The two blondes shrugged at each other, grinned and followed after Harry.

xxXxx

People chattered and laughed around them, happy in the atmosphere that surrounded them. Small and cozy, it was the kind of place Harry liked to go to occasionally, but it still surprised him that Jin had picked a traditional British pub to go to for their “date”.

They both placed their orders for the simple fish and chips fare that such places are famed for and sipped their drinks. Harry tried to ignore how uncomfortable this was starting to feel and they’d only just ordered.

Jin reached across the table and took Harry’s hand in his. “Harry… relax. You know this isn’t a real date. I’m not going to try and do anything to you. At least not too bad.” He grinned, trying to relax him. “My ulterior motives are different than you may think.”

Harry grinned back, unable to stop it. “Ah, but you admit that you do have ulterior motives. And I’m sorry. I’ll try to relax. But it’s not just this I’m worried about, it’s the show too.

Jin shook his head, squeezing Harry’s hand before letting go. “You shouldn’t. Draco has everything under control then again; I suppose it’s the public that’s the problem, right?”

“Yeah, they are the ones I’m worried about.” Harry nodded, feeling slightly adrift now that his hand had been released. His stomach flipped in nervousness, and he tried not to think about it, or he would make it worse. “So what are you motives then?”

“To talk up Dray of course. It’s ridiculous how you refuse to date him.”

“I need time, Jin, before I want to date again. Something happened when Darren left me, and I guess I just finally realized what I was doing. I purposely ruined good things in my life.”

“Yes, but that’s in the past now. And Draco’s given you plenty of time. Months since your break up to think about what you want. What are you stalling on?”

Harry fiddled with his fork, thinking of his answer. “The day Darren left me, I was late to class, and Draco used me to help model a pose that represented two lovers. After everyone left… we ended up… sleeping together. I felt things I’d never felt before. It scared me. It still does. I’ve been less than wonderful in all my previous relationships, why do I deserve to feel this now?”

“You want to prove yourself to him, don’t you? You’re changing for him. It wasn’t until you were with Draco that you realized that you needed to change. That you actually wanted to for once. I don’t think you’re over Darren yet either. You feel guilty for treating him like that, and deciding that it was wrong after he had left you. You should talk to him and thank him for breaking up with you and making you realize what an ass you were. But I really think this has gone on long enough. Draco won’t wait around forever, and then what will happen when you’ve lost all your chances and you have to see what you could have had, every time you see Dray in the arms of that other man. Is that what you want? What are you going to be feeling then?”

Harry considered all of this silently. Jin was right, more than Harry liked him or anyone to be. It would hurt more than all of this sidestepping was now if he had to see Draco with someone else. Glowering at the table, he shoved his hand roughly through his dark locks. This really really sucked. And not in a good way.

The waiter came then, setting down their plates in front of them, and getting them new drinks. Harry murmured a thank you and managed a small smile at the waiter before he picked up a French fry, nibbling on it as he thought.

“You’re completely right. About everything. I can’t believe I’m talking to a nineteen year old about this though. You’re insanely smart. I… thank you. For telling me I’m an idiot. I need to tell him. I will tell him. Tonight.”

Jin smiled, perfectly happy to have finally gotten through. “Good. And I know. I blame it on school and too much time around Draco. You’re welcome. What are you going to tell him though?”

“That I love him.”

xxXxx

The London Art Community was out in full force this night, many of the artists and art lovers of the scene mingled amongst each other, discussing the art of this latest show: That of Draco Malfoy’s.

They discussed the art on display, laughing and catching up on old stories as old friends do when brought together as a group once again. They were dressed in a range of styles, from designer jeans and t-shirts to the more dressy looks that some sported pretending that they were at a much larger premiere, but not over doing it. They sipped wine, and nibbled on crackers and cheese. Soft music played in the background, a variety of rock, punk, and pop to fit everyone’s tastes. Everyone was greatly pleased with the showing.

Draco, looking gorgeous in a grey cashmere sweater and black leather pants, greeted all of the guests as the came in, and mingled through them suggesting which pieces they might like as he knew most of the guests personally, and knew what their preferences were. He smiled and laughed with the others, and wondered where the heck Harry was. He was talking with Hermione and Ron – who had finally gotten used to the other man - when Harry finally arrived.

Harry entered the studio door nervously, Jin happily attached to his arm. He spotted Draco in the center of the room, next to the yet unveiled art that was Draco’s newest collection. Several paintings and other pieces stood there, waiting under their black cloth covers. Making his way over, he saw Hermione was with Draco, and his nervousness lessened as his smile widened, glad that his friends had come.

“Hermione! I’m so glad you guys came!” Harry said, stepping away from Jin’s side to hug his friend, spotting Ron over her shoulder and shaking his hand. “How’s it going?”

“We’re fine, Harry, thank you for inviting us.” Hermione said, eyeing Jin.

Harry noticed where she was staring and remembered he should make introductions.

“Oh sorry – Hermione, this is Jin, Draco’s cousin. He’s visiting from Japan. Jin, this is Hermione and her husband, Ron, my best mates from school.”

“Nice to meet you!” Jin chirped happily, shaking Hermione’s hand then Ron’s.

“You as well.” Hermione said with a smile, taking a liking to the young teen once she knew he wasn’t actually with Harry. They wandered away to look at Harry’s painting, talking about something, something Harry had a feeling wasn’t art. Ron followed after obediently, thinking that Draco might want to talk to Harry alone for a few minutes.

Harry turned to Draco then, “Sorry we were late, we ended up having a lot to talk about.

Draco shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. You’re not too late. People have been saying some good thing about your painting though, you should go mingle and talk to them.

“I will. I want to talk to you though.”

Draco looked at him with confused concern. “All right. Do you want to discuss it now or later?”

“Um. Later.” Harry said, having spotted Darren of all people out of the corner of his eye. Speak of the devil. After what he and Jin had just been discussing at dinner, this was a bit of surprise, Harry not having expected to see him here of all places.

“Darren.” He said, to the point, coming up beside his ex.

“Harry. This is really wonderful.” Darren responded, gesturing to the painting he stood in front of – Harry’s.

“Thank you. I have to say that I wasn’t really expecting you to come.”

“Saw the ad in the paper, and I knew Malfoy had been the one teaching you, thought it might be an idea to check it out.” He turned his attention fully to Harry. “How have you been?”

Harry cast his gaze downwards, finding the concrete floor intensely interesting. “I’ve been good. Much better. I…” He looked up at Darren, focusing on what he needed to tell his former lover. “I actually think I should be thanking you. The breakup brought a lot of things to light that I should have thought of a long time ago. I’ve been making some changes, and I think I can finally try again and get it right.”

Darren smiled. “That’s good to hear Harry. I don’t regret the time we were together at all. But like you just said. It could have been different.” His grin broadened. “Who knows, maybe if you had figured all this out before we’d still be together. I think it’s better that we’re not though. Something would still be wrong, and you’d be pining after Malfoy and not understanding it. Now you can tell him freely.”

Harry blushed, startled. “H-how did you know? I didn’t, not until, how?”

Darren smirked. “You always were a bit slow on the uptake. Anyone with two eyes can see you two are in deep. Haven’t told him yet though have you?’

“No,” Harry mumbled to his shoes. “But I’m about too.”

“Good. You’ll finally be happy, I know it.” Harry’s ex told him, moving a step closer and embracing Harry.

Harry returned the hug and felt it for a moment. It was different. Not how it had been while they were together. More friendship and acceptance now. Harry felt a thousand times lighter inside. “Thank you.’ He whispered, stepping back out of the embrace.

“Anytime, Harry. I think this is one of those instances where we can say that we’ll still be friends, eh? Keep in contact Harry.” Darren said with a smile, walking away to another part of the show, leaving Harry standing there, smiling like a fool.

Across the room, Draco witnessed the old lovers talking, and hugging. Fighting back his jealousy, he sipped at his wine glass, not noticing when Harry suddenly joined him. “Oh. Harry. Was that Darren? You two reconciled?”

Harry frowned slightly. “No, nothing like that. Just came to an understanding. Er, do you remember that I had something to say?”

“Yes…” Draco said, wondering where this could be going.

“Well, um… er, Jin and I. We had a bit of a talk over dinner, and we figured, well, he figured and I agree, that uh,-“

“Spit it out, Harry, I haven’t got all night.” Draco said, getting rather irritated.

“I – I love you.”

“Beg pardon? You what?”

“I love you. I have for, well, for most of this whole thing. I just refused to admit it to myself, and especially to you. That’s what Jin and I talked about. Again. Apparently I’m quite thick-headed about these things.” Harry said with a smile.

Draco smiled softly. “Oh really? I hadn’t noticed at all,” he said with a sarcastic drawl.

“Yes. But I wasn’t done. I’m also sorry. I’ve managed to hurt you, when all along that’s what I wanted to prevent. It gave me a chance to realize that life would be much worse without you though, and that I needed to stop denying it before I hurt the both of us. Will you forgive me? I’ll try to make it worth your while.”

“Don’t be a fool, of course I forgive you. About time you admitted it though. I was starting to wonder about you if you could ignore all the signs and feelings and electricity we had.”

Harry smiled. “I know. I’m sorry for being such a jerk about it.”

“Are you going to stop apologizing and kiss me or are you just going to talk all night?”

Harry grinned, taking Draco into his arms and slowly bringing their lips together in a fiery kiss. Like the few they had shared in the past, it was electric and a shock to their systems, leaving them breathless with desire at the end. It was long and deep, Harry only slightly teasing Draco with his tongue, remembering they were in public.

Hermione happened to glance over during the kiss and nudged Jin, who had filled her in on everything. She grinned, as did he, happy to finally see them together.

Harry and Draco pulled apart reluctantly, their breathing coming a little heavily, their eyes glazed with love and lust.

Their audience broke into applause, laughing, cheering and they even received a couple of whistles. They smiled sheepishly, looking over at everyone watching them.

“Well, I guess we gave them more than one show.” Draco said with a small smirk.

“Guess so.” Harry replied with a smile. They parted slightly, and Jin and Hermione came back over to them. “About time!” Both said at once, hugging their respective friends.

“Thought we would all burn with the sparks that were flying between you.” Ron said with a devilish grin. He too, was glad they’d got their acts together – or that Harry had. Though it was amusing to see Malfoy pining after Harry, it was rather sad to watch Harry mope over something he was missing in his life and not have a clue what it was.

“Hey Draco, wouldn’t this be the perfect time to unveil your work, now that you have out attention?” One of his other students called out.

Draco smirked, “I suppose it would be.” He walked over to the nearest piece, and started pulling off the covers, leaving them where they fell on the floor.

Everyone gasped at what was revealed. A painting simply of vibrant green eyes, haunting to look at, just as they had haunted the artist as he painted it. A second painting of those eyes, smiling with a happy light in them, a faint scar visible on the flesh above them. A sculpted head, pure white from clay and paint, but for the green of the eyes. Photographs focused on the eyes of the subject, some in black and white, with only those smiling green orbs coloured again. A portfolio of sketches and drawings was laid out as well, inviting you to flip through and view the inspiration.

Harry was shocked. They were all undeniably him. Those were his eyes! He walked toward them, staring at the paintings, reaching out, but not touching the sculpture. They were all amazing, yet a little scary, as they showed how… truly obsessed Draco had been all these months.

“Wow, Draco, obsessed much?” Another student joked, other laughing with him as they started to walk around them to get closer to the art.

Draco smiled softly. “Just a little. I’ve been working on ‘Green Eyes’ for ages. I guess I just never realized how it seemed until I had a whole collection. It started with just one painting,” he said, nodding at that first one he’d painted in his fit of anger at himself. “And then… I couldn’t stop.”

“They’re beautiful, Draco.” Hermione said, admiring the painting of the laughing eyes. Ron nodded in agreement, flipping through the portfolio. Everyone else made there own agreements, murmuring between themselves and picking out the small points of detail. Harry stepped away from one of the framed photos of himself, and looked at Draco.

“There is another one. Why aren’t you showing it?”

Draco looked startled for a moment, before hiding it. “I wasn’t sure I should be, but if you don’t mind, then I suppose I will.”

Harry nodded. It was fine with him. All of these were of him anyways. Might as well show the last. Draco left to go get the last painting in the Green Eyes collection, the full portrait of Harry in his bed. He brought it out, and set it on an unused easel Harry had found. Everyone turned and stared. No one said a word as they took in the sight of a half naked and very satisfied looking Harry Potter.

Ron finally broke that silence with: “Bloody hell, mate.”

Everyone agreed. It was well done, and easily admirable, once they got past the sensual image Harry presented on oils.

Harry came to stand next to Draco again. “You know, if I hadn’t unwittingly posed for most of these, I’d think you’d been stalking me.”

“Well, I have been in a way. But now I don’t have too.” Draco responded with a smile, leaning over to kiss Harry freely now that he wouldn’t be pushed away.

Harry melted into the kiss before breaking it as more and more people came to them to gush about how wonderful they thought the collection was, and to get a really good look at Harry themselves.

“What are you going to do with them, Draco?” Hermione asked him. “Surely you’re not going to sell it all?”

Draco shook his head. “No, I couldn’t sell them. I’m not sure what I’ll do with the collection, but I’ll think of something.”

“People should definitely see it. It’s gorgeous.” Hermione said, already trying to think of a solution to the problem of how to display them.

“Don’t worry Hermione, Draco will come up with something.” Harry assured her.

She nodded and smiled, returning to look at some of the pieces she hadn’t gotten a close look at.

The attention for both the artist and the subject was nice, but after a while of the effervescent praise, they were both getting tired of it, the place was packed, and it was getting hot.

“Want to go for a walk?” Harry murmured in Draco’s ear. The blonde nodded, and they made their way to the door, managing luckily to slip out unnoticed by the guests.

Reaching for his hand, Harry threaded their fingers together and brought Draco’s hand up to his lips and kissed the knuckles before dropping them back down between them. Draco squeezed his hand, and smiled. “What did you think of it?” He asked.

“I thought it was wonderful. I love it. It’s beautiful, and you can feel the love radiating from them.” Harry’s grin broadened, “So really, I think I get the best end of this deal, ‘cause even if you were painting me when I didn’t know it, I still get to have all the love and affection you show in your paintings, given to me.”

Draco smirked, “It does sound like you benefit from this deal especially. But I’m glad you like it. I was worried about what you would think of it when you finally saw it all together – seeing as you didn’t formally pose for any of them but the last.”

“Well, I understand that this was something you needed to get out. I wasn’t exactly helpful these past couple of months. Why was it only my eyes though?”

“Because they haunt me. All the time. All I wanted to do for hours was stare into them, learn to read them and you, to see your feelings shining in them, to witness the love and happiness you have through them. I always dreamed of the way they burned that one time, after your break up… I wanted you to look at me like that forever.”

Harry smiled softly. “Well, now you can look into them anytime you want. And I’ll look at you with that passion again.” He looked away up the street. They were a few blocks away from the studio now. “Did you want to go back? Or… head to my place?”

Draco grinned. “Your place sounds good.”

They continued walking to Harry’s apartment, talking quietly about the show and how good it had been and how the turn out had been amazing, with more people coming out than they had expected. They went up to the apartment, and Harry had to let go of Draco’s hand to take off his jacket. He smiled at the other man, a touch nervously. Draco responded with a shy smile of his own.

“A little more awkward then we figured, eh?” Draco asked.

“Yeah… I don’t know why. I mean it’s not like we haven’t before… with others and with each other… but it’s just different now. Somehow.” Harry said, rubbing his neck awkwardly.

“I understand, Harry. We’ll go slowly, right?” Draco asked, reaching for Harry’s hand again.

“Right.” Harry responded. Draco smiled, leaning up and pressing his lips to Harry’s, revelling in the freedom to finally be able to do that without being shoved away five seconds after. His smiled grew as Harry responded enthusiastically to the kiss, wrapping his arms tighter about his waist. Draco brought his arms up around Harry’s neck, twining his fingers through the soft hair.

“Mmmm…” Harry moaned, moving his hands up underneath Draco’s sweater, pushing it up to take it off. Draco broke the kiss and moved back slightly to help Harry with his task. Getting off, the sweater was thrown out of the way, landing haphazardly on the back of the couch before slipping to the floor.

Moving close to Harry again, Draco made quick work of the buttons on his forest green dress shirt, pushing it back and off Harry’s shoulders to land in a rumpled heap on the floor. The blonde inhaled quickly at the sight presented before him: the tanned and well formed abs, the flawless skin stretched over his ribs and arms. It was one of many sights he had dreamed of frequently in the past months, a blurry memory that he held onto from that one time. He ran his hands appreciatively over Harry’s biceps, squeezing them gently, and enjoying the feel of the muscle moving under his hands. Moving them so that they were at Harry’s neck again, his thumbs rubbed in small circles near his collar bone, a more relaxing manoeuvre that arousing. He planted his lips on the brunet’s again, and leisurely mapped out the other man’s mouth, memorizing the taste and feel.

Harry held Draco tightly to him as the blonde went through his seductive discoveries. Draco’s thumbs were massaging his neck in a pleasing manner, and the soft touch mixed with the heated kiss was driving him crazy. Groaning, he lifted him up, wrapping his hands tightly under the blonde’s knees, holding him against his waist. Draco’s hands moved, his hold tightening around Harry’s neck as he was carried to the bedroom. Their arousals brushed against each others with the motion, leaving both gasping, and Draco rubbing himself up and down Harry’s torso to get more of that delicious friction going for them.

Ending up leaning against the wall for support as Draco rubbed against him, Harry held the artist against him, grabbing his firm ass with his hands, and helping him move against himself. A few minutes were spent at this, until it was becoming slightly unbearable. Harry wrenched away from Draco’s lips, gasping for breath as instead his lips tasted the tiny beads of sweat that were beginning to form on the soft skin of Draco’s next and jaw. Working his lips roughly over the flesh, leaving his mark, he carried the other over to the bed, dropping him lightly on to the mattress. Taking a couple seconds to get his breath back and appreciate the flushed view of his lover, Harry removed their socks (shoes having been left at the door), and then Draco’s leather pants, revealing the fact that not only were they incredibly tight and difficult to get off, he also wasn’t wearing anything under them. Eating up the sight of Draco, flushed and hard, willing and ready, for him, almost too much to take right then.

Blushing at Harry’s unwavering attention, Draco sat up, free from restraint as he now was. Staring into Harry’s eyes, he reached for the fastenings on his pants, undoing them, and pushing them down over his hips. Harry did his own part, stepping out of them and kicking them aside. He sat next to Draco on the bed, and they pressed their lips together in the same moment, having decided that they had gone on long enough being apart. Gently, he pushed him flat down onto the bed, stretching his body over top, touching every inch possible, but still not close enough. Their mouths separated once again, and Harry lavished attention upon Draco’s nipples, tugging and nipping at them, then soothing them with licks and gentle kisses. Once both were hard nubs of desire, each move of Harry’s mouth on them sent straight to his cock, electrifying his arousal. Harry moved down further, kissing his way all over Draco’s chest.

Draco relaxed into it, mind passion hazed already, and they had barely begun. His long artist’s fingers tangled in Harry’s dark hair, encouraging him to move further south and relieve the sweet tension he was feeling. Harry complied, moving further down his lover’s body, but sat up enough between his legs to reach all of him. Tracing his fingers in a pattern of swirls behind his knees, almost tickling, but not quite, he softly continued the gentle massage up his thighs, going as far as the apex of hip joined to leg, but not touching that which really yearned for the touch of Harry’s hands. The massage was repeated once or twice more, each time only going so far before retreating again. This alone would have been enough to get Draco aroused, had he not all ready been dying from the arousal he felt. His sensitivity further heightened, he was close to bursting, and urging Harry to do something about his straining cock, when the other man did.

Laying kisses on the head of the purpled erection, he curled his tongue about it, licking quickly and softly, like a kitten would at milk. The brunet teased his lover like this until the other was suddenly arching off the bed, grasping the sheets tightly in his hands. This was doing nothing to give him release of the tension – merely making it worse.

“More! No! Enough! Uhnngg!” Draco cried out.

Harry stopped, looking up at him with a smirk. “Make up your mind love. Do you want more, or have you had enough?”

“Fuck me. Now.”

A simple enough command, Harry was reaching over to his night stand for his bottle of lube the second the words left his sweetly bruised lips. Uncapping it, he squirted it liberally into his palm. Scooping it up with the fingers on his opposite hand, he used one to spread it over and around the outside of the quivering hole. He slipped the digit inside of the welcoming heat, working each knuckle in slowly. Taking his time since he did not want to hurt Draco, and knowing that it had probably been a long time since Draco had been taken, he worked carefully from one finger to the next to the next. Three stretching him now, he was able to reach further, curling his fingertips to find that magical spot. And find it he did, stroking over it repeatedly, Draco arched off the bed yet again, calling his name heatedly.

“Harry! Please! Do something all ready!”

“Hold on love, I’m getting there.” Harry said, chuckling at his lover’s impatience – an impatience he understood perfectly since he felt it the same. Using the last traces of lube on his hand, he smoothed it over his cock, leaning up over Draco and kissing him passionately as he guided his arousal to the puckered entrance. A particularly hard nip to Draco’s lower lip followed by a sharp thrust of his tongue, all a distraction as Harry’s hips thrust forward into the warm heat of Draco’s body, embedded himself deeply inside.

Draco cried out, both in pain and pleasure, as it had been a long time since anyone had taken him, and yet it faded in the next instant as the undeniably pleasure he got flooded his system and set his blood boiling. Adjusting to the feel of Harry inside him, he was soon moving and writhing about to get Harry to move inside him and truly blow his mind.

Harry again got the message and began to move with the tight confines of his lover, sliding in and out with ease. A gentle rhythm was decided, and they took it slowly, as they had said, looking deep into the other’s gaze, reading the heartfelt emotions running through green and silver orbs. Sweet and simple kisses were exchanged, not needing much more now.

Harsh breaths, in the form of moans, pants and sighs, filled the room. Tender touches were exchanged, having now made it this far, they wanted it to last as long as possible. Smoothly, Harry moved over Draco, memorizing the features of the artist below him, imprinting the look of him spread and writhing in his mind should he ever be so foolish to deny this again. Harry didn’t think that would be possible.

Feeling that familiar warming, tightening in his stomach, Harry sped up his pace, causing another illicit gasp to fall from Draco’s parted lips. Dark lashes fell over passion-stormed grey eyes, pale cheeks brightly flushed, fine blonde strands spread out over the pillows, yet at that moment looking more innocent than any angel. That innocence was re-thought the next moment as he lifted his hips to meet Harry’s hard, fast thrusts now, his eyes flickering open to gaze into and beyond Harry’s, so hazed with desire that he may not have been truly seeing a thing; only feeling it now.

Another gasp, a strangled cry, and Harry was lost on the highest plateau of pleasure, letting it wrap around his senses until there was nothing but bliss in its purest form. Coming down from his short high, he just caught Draco beginning his own ascent, screaming his name as it poured forth, streams of the sticky white substance coating the both of them. Holding himself up over Draco on shaking arms, Harry pressed his lips to Draco’s sweat-soaked brow and slipped out from his body, rolling to lie next to him. Pulling Draco into his arms, they lay there, their pants now of ones trying to catch their breath after a long race, hearts dancing a tempo neither could keep up with.

Later, their breath returned, their hearts slowed to a steady pulse, and it was that moment of purely sated bliss unlike that of any other, when they were merely content to sleep and restore themselves, only to exhaust later the same way. The brunet summoned enough strength to grasp at the sheets pushed below, dragging them up over sweaty sticky bodies. Relaxing back into the arms of his lover, he whispered; “I love you”, a statement returned with yet another soul searing kiss.

As the dreaming lovers settled into their sleep, both came to realize that of which is undoubtedly true – to themselves and many others who have fought for love - the passion of a lover far outstripped that of the passion any artist could put into his work. Yet both were still just as sweet and inspiring to those that viewed it.

xxXxx

It was eventually decided by Draco – well, mostly decided for him – that the ‘Green Eyes’ collection would be permanently displayed at the British National Art Gallery for all to enjoy. Later hailed as the best collection Draco would produce in his entire long career, the ‘Green Eyes’ collection garnered much public and media attention, newspapers and newscasters reporting on this fabulous new addition in the furthest reaches of North America and Europe. Of course, thanks to Jin, his now famous artist cousin received even further praise from the Japanese nation – who loved his art, and him (That platinum blond hair of his was a mystery to them, and many wished to emulate it).

The “official” opening of the collection was the fanciest party both Draco and Harry had ever been too. And with Draco’s past experiences with his Mother’s parties, this was saying something. Narcissa enjoyed it immensely. Press from all around the world were there to see the oft spoke about collection that was finally about to be seen by a more general public. Of course, what everyone really wanted to do; was speak with the artist. Naturally, Draco spoke to those who came, and answered their questions, retelling the story of how it had come to be – even though everyone knew it already. They wanted to hear it was true straight from the mouth of the artist. He merely smiled happily and told it over again. The media was not quite as lucky, only earning a soft smile, silver grey eyes sparkling with happiness. “Ask them.” He told the cameras, gesturing to the public.

As each person views art in a different way, each would see a different reason behind it. Oh, they may know the story, and have heard the reasons and methods from the artist himself, but the human race is made up of dreamers, bound to come up with some other way. Maybe (though the proof was before them), the love affair between artist and student did not end happily. Maybe it was rife with anger and regret and a sad guilt. For others, it may be an inspiration, that love should not be given up on if it is not completely dead yet. That there is always hope for the good things in life.

And so, that’s the story the reporters got. They asked the public their questions, and received a multitude of varied answers for each. They were happy though, because they were rewarded with capturing artist and muse happily together, Harry behind, arms wrapped around the blond, and Draco turned slightly to gaze at him lovingly as Harry shared some little secret with him, both ignoring all but the other, smiles radiant.

It was the picture of the year, splashed on magazine covers everywhere, the pair of lovers everyone loved.

Oh, and it can’t be forgotten, but Harry’s Love Un-forbidden was kept with Draco’s collection, a different side to the story of sorts. As can be expected though, Draco and Harry didn’t much enjoy the media side of their fame, preferring to leave it at those who viewed the exhibit. They visited it often in the beginning months, to see who was there, and of course, to talk to the public they had wanted to reach for so long with their art. They could be seen often in the afternoons, standing hand in hand somewhere in the room, talking to a high class member of society (a few of the royals even came to see what the fuss was all about), or someone just like themselves. Young and in love, an aspiring artist, someone who had regained hope for the love they felt. It was quite the thing to watch. Several people ask Draco to teach his class again, and he would just smile and say he’d think about it.

Eventually, their visits became fewer and fewer, until they no longer went to see anyone, not because they were tired of it, though it was tiring, but because they had made a set of plans for themselves. Draco would teach and create a little longer, with Harry’s help, and Harry would create art as well, and although he would never be as good as his love, he was satisfied with it. They spent a lot of time down by the river, just talking and watching the people, or sketching like many of the other artists that joined them in the bustle of the river area. People would spot the now famous couple, but left them alone, as they looked so happy and carefree together, no one dared interrupt. A few though, would come up and wish them well, and the boys would smile – indeed, happily – and say thank you, what had they thought of the exhibit? So they continued to be in touch with the people that had inspired them, that had been there in the beginning.

Draco’s classes filled quickly, and often left him tired after a day of it, but Harry was always there afterwards. Luckily though, he had to kick fewer and fewer people out now, because the ones with talent came to him to further it. The few he did get that just sat there and mooned and day dreamed over Harry and himself were quickly replaced, as Draco wasn’t having any of that.

Deciding where to live was something else altogether though. Draco’s studio and home were all-in-one, but it was an odd layout, and uncomfortable for Harry who felt quite boxed in by it. Draco didn’t like Harry’s apartment because there was no space to paint in. Finally agreeing on something – several loud arguments later (they weren’t always perfectly happy. This isn’t that kind of romance) – they settled on living in Harry’s apartment, and creating in Draco’s. Of course, at times Harry would just rather shut himself in his spare room to paint or whichever, and so they could be doing the same thing in different places. Besides, it wasn’t healthy to be together every minute of the day.

The next five years continued in the same thread, revolving through teaching and not teaching, friends and family bonds growing closer, and the beloved and cherished sparks of inspiration. After a bit more time spent in London, they decided they needed a change of pace. Something a little slower, but with just as much artistic imagery that they would need for inspiration. They didn’t really want to leave, since everyone they loved was there or at least nearby. But being continually in the public eye - even five years after the collection had opened, now the rest of Draco’s work got attention – was getting to be quite enough for the two men.

It came one afternoon; that Draco would take action against this, and decided what it was they should do.

xxXxx

The blond artist – now famed world-wide due to his beautiful renditions of his lover – walked into the living room of the apartment he’d moved into a short while after his opening, looking for said lover. Finding him to be exactly where he should have been, curled up on the couch with the book he simply could not put down, he dropped two long, thin pieces of paper between the pages of the book, putting them in the reader’s way so he could catch that attention for a moment.

Harry jumped, and pulled away from his book as Draco dropped something in front of his pages. “Do you mind, I’m trying to read. What is this anyways?” Harry asked, looking at just what had been dropped onto him. “…Plane tickets?”

“Yes, plane tickets. For a small city in the south of France, which we will then leave for a tiny town, and that for a quaint cottage on the edge of a centuries old forest.” Draco told him.

“Erm, that sounds lovely, but why?”

Draco rolled his silver-grey eyes and sighed. Five years and he was just as dense. “Because we’ve been wanting to leave London, haven’t we? I talked to Mum about it, and she said that we still had the cottage down in France. So, I had it arranged, and we’ll go there for awhile. Maybe forever.”

“Your cottage… in France… forever?”

“Yes, haven’t you been paying attention?” Draco asked with a slight glare.

Harry looked down at the book forgotten in his lap, words blurred as he took this in. He bit his lip. Did he really want to do this?

Seeing his lover’s hesitation, he moved over to sit on the couch next to him, placing both tickets and book on the coffee table in front of them. He took Harry’s hand in his, turning him towards him. “Harry, love, it’s not as bad as you think. Do you remember that Impressionist show we went to see, back before we got together? You really admired that painting, practically the whole thing was green, of the little cottage on the edge of the woods, and how absolutely tranquil and perfect it looked? That’s exactly how it’s like in France. You’ll love it, I know you will.”

Harry’s bright green eyes stared into silver, reading them carefully and seeing that this was only being done because Draco thought he would like it, that it would be the best idea for them to take, to get away for a while. Before he could say anything, Draco cut in again:

“And it doesn’t really have to be forever. Just for a while. A year maybe. And we can always come back and visit everyone. Mum wouldn’t let me use the cottage if I wasn’t going to come back and see her.”

“I remember the painting, or I’d really be dense. The print you bought me of it, is in our room. So, okay. Not forever right now, but we’ll see how we like it, and maybe it will be. I think a year there would be fine, with lots of visits.” Harry said, really quite liking the idea now that he’d thought about it and heard Draco’s reasoning. “I’d really miss Ron and Hermione and especially their little one now. How would they escape without me to take over every so often? And visits to your Mum’s are good too; I think I’d miss her too.”

Draco laughed. “Well, she’ll be glad one of us wants to see her still.”

Harry smirked, “Yes, I bet she’ll love it when I tell her that her son’s been thinking up ways to avoid spending time with her. You’d be back at the manor in an instant.”

Draco laughed again at the thought of being dragged back home, imagining the stately woman doing just that. His laughter was cut off, swallowed in Harry’s kiss, which Draco enthusiastically returned.

xxXxx ONE MONTH LATER xxXxx

Harry and Draco stepped off the plane onto the tiny strip of tarmac, luggage already in hand, having had to take what basically amounted to a small bush plane to get to this lesser traversed area of France. They were ushered into a tiny building near three large hangers that turned out to be a bit of office space. A woman was bustling about, humming happily to herself, moving papers here and there, filing things haphazardly.

‘A bit like Ron’s mum.’ Harry thought, remembering the woman fondly from school breaks so long ago.

“Draco, remind me to write Ron’s mum when we get settled.”

“Why on earth would I ever want to remind you to write to Weasley’s mum? Draco responded before the woman noticed them.

“Oh, there you are! Sit down a moment, well, if you can find the space.” She said in heavily accented English. Harry almost wished he knew French, for she would sound so much better speaking to them in her native tongue, though her English was perfect and voice homey and welcoming. Stashing another folder away in a drawer, she took a seat in a squeaky chair behind the desk as the two men shrugged and found folding chairs to perch on.

“Now, how was the flight?”

“Er, just fine, m’am. Better than those commercial flights, less hassle, really.” Harry replied.

“Good, good. I know we’re small, but quality counts. You’re coming in from London?” She asked next.

“Yes, going to my family’s cottage a little ways from here.” Draco answered this time.

“Ah, lovely city! Such old charm! Like our Paris.” She said, making the last come out as “Par-ee” as all the French did. “Occupations?”

“Artists.” Draco replied again.

A brow raised. “Both of you?”

“Yes, both of us, though that may change in the future. It shouldn’t though, we’re here for inspiration.” Harry got in this time. What was all this? Small city Immigration? They’d gone through the real immigration process when they first landed in the major airport, before finding their little ride out here, but he supposed protocol was protocol.

“Oh really? That’s lovely. I’m sure you dears will find plenty in the countryside.”

“Pardon me for interrupting, m’am, but will this take much longer? There’s a long drive ahead of us to the cottage.” Draco politely interceded, amused expression lighting his features.

“Oh, oh yes. Sorry dears. Just routine, since we don’t get too many out here that aren’t regulars. But we’re done, thank you so much.”

“No problem, m’am. We’ll probably be ‘regulars’ fairly soon ourselves.” Harry said with his winning smile.

The woman started for a moment, being graced with that beautiful smile. “Are… you two…?” She left the question unfinished.

At the door now, they turned back to her as one. “Yes, of course.” They responded, flashing blinding smiles again.

And then they were gone, leaving the room dull once again, the hearty woman sitting there still, in a bit of a shell shock.

“Oh my.” She murmured, fanning herself with a stack of papers. “What a pair.”

xxXxx

The car ride was passed mostly in silence, Draco listening to something classical on the stereo and Harry falling asleep as the sun set. They finally arrived just a twilight was settling over the valley that held their cottage and a couple others as well. Standing at the tiny picket fence, Harry took it all in. Draco was right; it did look just like that painting he loved. And it was perfect for them.

Draco came up and wrapped an arm around his waist. “Well? What do you think?”

“I think forever’s looking pretty good.” Harry said with a large smile, which was quickly eclipsed by his lover’s lips descending on his own.

XxXxENDXxXxXx