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Giving In

The first time Harry gave in, he actually thought it could work.

He had been on an assignment in the south of France in a small village of no significance to Muggles. Draco had been there on vacation. They booked rooms in the same hotel by chance, but rather than seeing it as an annoyance they welcomed each other's company. It was a foreign country and an isolated place, and a familiar face was a comfort. It explained why they had dinner together, but nothing could have explained why they had ended up in Draco's room afterwards. Perhaps they had too much to drink, or perhaps things seemed different — simpler — far away from their world, or perhaps it was the shock of realising that Draco could be charming when he wanted to be.

All Harry knew was that nothing seemed more natural than sinking down on his knees and taking Draco's cock into his mouth. Harry had never had a cock in his mouth before and he was forced to wonder why that was so. There was power in that action; seeing Draco's wide grey eyes looking down on him in wonder set Harry's blood on fire. Draco didn't resist when Harry reached behind his balls and pressed two slick fingers to the tight entrance to Draco's body, so Harry was bold and daring enough to push them inside. He moved them in and out as he sucked the tip of Draco's cock until creamy liquid filled his mouth and Draco clamped down on Harry's fingers so hard Harry ached to feel that tightness around his cock.

And Draco had let him feel it. Harry pressed him face-first to the wall and pushed his cock where his fingers had been; the feeling more exquisite than he imagined. They were still fully dressed. Their trousers were around their ankles and their shirts rumpled, and Draco was so tight Harry felt beads of sweat break out on his forehead even before his balls pressed against Draco's arse.

It didn't last long and it was too fast and too rough, but Harry was convinced that he had inadvertently stumbled onto perfection.

They spent two weeks there, talking about everything and nothing at all, and Harry learned that Draco could be funny when he wanted to be and he learned that Draco's smile could light up the room. Most of the time was spent on Draco's bed, with Draco pressed to the sheets; his body hard and sweaty beneath Harry's, and Harry had learned a thing or two about himself. Like the fact that he preferred the touch of a man rather than a touch of a woman. It should have been an earth shattering revelation, but Harry felt nothing but contentment.

When they arrived home at a Portkey point in London, Harry couldn't wipe the smile off his face. He planned to drag Draco straight to his flat and let him brighten up that part of Harry's world.

Harry grabbed his hand, but Draco pulled it away sharply.

"Are you insane?" Draco's cheeks were flushed as his eyes darted left and right, searching through the crowd. "Not here. Someone could see us."

Harry stopped smiling at once. Pain shot through his head as though Draco had slapped him.

"I thought . . . I don't understand."

Draco laughed in a way Harry hadn’t heard for two weeks; the sound was bitter and harsh.

"I can't believe you. Have you no shame? We can't just . . . I have obligations, Potter, and a reputation, something I fought hard for. What the hell did you expect?" Draco looked at him in the way he had always looked at him before — as though Harry was dense.

Harry felt dense. He had thought they found something they both wanted to keep.

Draco's features softened as he said, "Look, we can see each other next weekend. I'll send a house-elf to your flat." Draco paused and looked around again, shifting his weight uncomfortably. "I had a great time." With that, Draco picked up his trunk, turned around and left. He didn't even say goodbye.

Harry stared after him for a long moment and then retracted his hand that was reaching out stupidly to grab the hand of a man who was clearly ashamed of what had happened between them. Ashamed of himself for being so naïve, Harry felt his face burn as he bent down to pick up his luggage. He knew that when a house-elf appeared on his doorstep he would send it away. He had no wish to see Draco again.


*


The second time Harry gave in, it was nothing but pure desire.

He had hurt his hand; a curse had nearly severed one of his fingers. His partner took him to St Mungo's and Harry was sat down in a clean white room and was made to wait for a Healer.

He knew Draco worked there, but he was still shocked to see him walk inside the room in Healer’s robes. He couldn't help noticing that lime green suited him well.

If Draco was surprised to see him, he didn't show it. He healed Harry's hand quickly and efficiently, never making eye contact and never speaking unless necessary. It was just another slap in the face to see Draco so unaffected by Harry's proximity, especially since Harry's own skin tingled wherever Draco touched it.

"I expect your hand will hurt for a few hours, but you'll be fine," Draco said, still holding Harry's hand in his.

"Thank you," Harry said even though he had never felt less grateful.

Draco was frozen, holding Harry's hand and looking away.

It happened slowly, and yet Harry had no time to draw a breath. Draco brought Harry's hand to his face and pulled Harry's sore finger into his mouth. Grey eyes looked at Harry as Draco's lips wrapped themselves around his finger. Sudden lust blinded Harry and without a thought he let Draco spin him around, press him against the wall and kiss him. He grabbed Draco's hair and kissed him back, not letting the chance slip by.

"Merlin, I missed —" Draco cut himself off and grabbed Harry's hair sharply, deepening the kiss.

Harry shut his eyes when Draco knelt down, not wanting to look as Draco took him in his mouth. He heard him moan around his mouthful and he heard the slide of Draco's hand against flesh and he knew Draco was pleasuring himself as he sucked Harry's cock. It was a sight Harry would have loved to witness, but he didn't dare open his eyes and see what he would lose again in a few minutes.

But his eyes flew open as Draco moaned loudly, coming all over his own hand. Draco's face contorted in pleasure and the pleasant hum tingling around his cock pulled Harry over the edge. Draco swallowed, and kept swallowing, until it began to hurt and Harry yanked him by his hair and made him pull back.

They had already straightened their clothes when Draco spoke, his lips pressed to Harry's cheek. "We could meet tomorrow night. I'll rent a room."

Harry looked at his feet as he said, "I heard you're getting engaged."

"What the fuck does that have to do with anything?"

Harry growled and his hands clenched into fists. He pushed Draco away, furious when Draco didn't fall down but merely stumbled. Draco looked shocked.

"I'm not interested in being your dirty little secret," Harry spat.

"Don't be an idiot," Draco retorted, looking as furious as Harry felt. "What do you want? You want the entire Wizarding World to make fun of us? You want people to look at you as though you're a freak?"

"Been there, done that. I lived."

"Well fuck you, Potter. If you don't care, I do."

"Oh, I care. But clearly I care about the wrong thing." Harry turned around and yanked the door open. "Have a good non-scandalous life."


*


The third time Harry gave in, he actually planned it.

He showed up at Astoria Greengrass and Draco Malfoy's engagement party. He hadn't been invited, but he was sure that no one would actually throw him out. Draco spotted him the moment he came through the door, but he didn't approach him for at least an hour. After the guests were drunk and the party turned louder, Draco appeared next to Harry, grabbed his hand and pulled him away. Harry went with him without a word and let Draco rush him up the stairs and into his room.

He was just saying goodbye.

He lay down on Draco's bed, relishing the thought that he was here before Draco's future wife. He pulled Draco on top of himself and pressed a tube of lube into his hand, loving the slight widening of Draco's eyes. It was the first time he saw Draco so nervous; it made him clumsy and unsure. It was also the first time Harry truly appreciated Draco's choice to become a Healer; Draco's hands were gentle and steady despite his obvious fear. It didn't hurt as much as Harry thought it would and he wondered why he denied himself this before.

He realised the reason and his mistake only after he looked up at Draco moving above him, his eyes unusually dark and wide, blond strands sticking to his forehead. Draco inside him, his hands wrapped around Harry's wrists and the way he looked down at Harry as he fucked him were three things Harry knew he would never forget. It was intimacy he never thought he would experience.

He came quickly and then stared at Draco, memorising every feeling that washed over him, every line of Draco's face and every tiny sound he made.

Afterwards, Draco rolled away too swiftly to lie beside him. In a second or two, Draco would have to go back before people realised he was missing.

"Leave her. Be with me," Harry said, though he didn't plan to say anything; the words passed his lips without his permission.

"I can't. I can't deal with that, Harry. My parents, my friends . . . you don't understand. They would never forgive me . . . this. I'm sorry." Draco sounded sorry and Harry thought that would make him feel better, but it just made him feel worse.

The noise coming from downstairs increased and Draco sighed, stood up and got dressed. He leaned in for another kiss and Harry didn't fight it. He grabbed Draco's head and wrapped his tongue around Draco's, trying to make the kiss last as long as possible.

Eventually, Draco pulled away.

"We could meet —"

"Goodbye," Harry said quietly.

Draco pressed his lips together, pulled away sharply and left.


*


The fourth time Harry gave in, he almost gave in completely.

He was in Diagon Alley, getting lunch, and he stopped to buy the Daily Prophet. The front page news made him pause right there in the street and he stood reading, his lunch forgotten. A member of the Wizengamot was discovered in a compromising position with a young man. His career was in jeopardy because the other members decided his behaviour was indecent. The objection was that his lover, a twenty year old, was frighteningly young, and the reporter who wrote the story made sure to include every sneering remark the man's colleagues graced him with. And yet, Harry remembered quite clearly that one of the Wizengamot members married an eighteen year old girl just last summer. No one had objected to it.

"See?" a familiar voice said into Harry's ear.

Harry thought he was imagining Draco standing beside him, but when he looked over, Draco was truly there, his grey eyes fixed on the paper in Harry's hands.

"Do you want to be in the middle of something like this? The man will lose his job."

"It's not fair," Harry said, petulant.

Draco looked up at Harry, his eyes soft. "No, it's not." He smiled a little as his hand brushed against Harry's, but when Harry looked down it was already gone.

"Come with me," Draco said and turned around.

Without a moment's thought, Harry followed blindly. Draco led him towards Knockturn Alley and beyond, where there were no people, just smelly rubbish and rundown buildings. Draco stopped when he reached a dark narrow alley with no sun or fresh air.

Harry's breath caught in his throat and he tried to remind himself that he swore he'd never do this again, but when Draco pressed him to the dirty wall and kissed him, Harry forgot he had said goodbye. He kissed Draco back desperately, all teeth and tongue, not caring that his lunch and the newspaper fell to the ground. There was no time, and no patience, for anything more than pressing their bodies firmly together and caressing every bit of skin they could reach. They unbuttoned their trousers and Harry spat into his hand, and soon their cocks were sliding against each other, Harry's hand jerking furiously as Draco rocked his hips. It was perfect, not wrong, and Harry wished Draco could see that.

"Say you'll meet me again," Draco panted, dragging his teeth against the tender skin of Harry's neck. "Tomorrow night. Right here. There's a place nearby where we can rent a room."

Harry shut his eyes and moved his hand faster. He moaned, nearly sobbed as he came, wetness spreading over his hand. Draco followed quickly, rubbing his cock against Harry's sticky skin and breathing sharply into Harry's ear.

"I'll be here," Harry said, truthful in that moment.

Draco's head snapped up and his face brightened as his lips stretched into a smile.

"Promise?"

Harry nodded, trying to smile in return, but he couldn't force his mouth to obey him. He felt as though he had failed, as though he had admitted defeat.

Draco didn't notice, he just leaned in for another kiss. "I have to go," Draco said, catching Harry's bottom lip between his teeth, his eyes twinkling at Harry before he pulled away. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Harry nodded again and Draco left, looking happy. Harry looked down at the newspaper, now dirty and wrinkled beneath his feet. A man in his late forties looked up at him, his blue eyes ashamed.

The next day, Harry didn't meet Draco but he met someone else — a reporter who would write another shocking front page news.


*


The fifth time, Harry didn't give in.

It was the beginning of May and the Atrium was filled with people. A new statue was added to the Fountain of Magical Brethren; a great abstract mass of stone, its meaning a mystery to Harry, but it had taken three years to make and it looked impressive. The name of every wizard and witch that had died at the hand of Voldemort and his followers was carved into it and Harry appreciated it for that reason alone.

Minister Shacklebolt was giving a speech and Harry tried to listen, but failed.

A warm breath tickled Harry's ear.

"Nice speech."

Harry stiffened and exhaled slowly; he didn't have to turn to recognise Draco. "Yes, he's . . . he can talk a lot."

Draco laughed and Harry closed his eyes for a second, enjoying the sound.

"I meant yours. Earlier."

"Oh." Harry sneaked a glance in Draco's direction. Unexpectedly, Draco was looking straight at him. He seemed different; paler, pointier, more troubled than usual. "Hermione wrote it," Harry admitted.

"I guessed as much." Draco smiled but turned serious again quickly. "That was loud applause you've received."

Harry looked away. "Not bad for a pervy gay man, wouldn't you say?"

"The Wizarding World would forgive you anything." There was bitterness in Draco's tone.

"There was nothing to forgive," Harry said mildly, almost chastising.

Draco made no response.

"How's your fiancé? Or wife?" Harry asked, not sure why. He was only torturing himself.

"I don't know. We broke the engagement. It didn't work out."

A loud applause echoed thorough the room as Harry's heart beat faster. Belatedly, he remembered to clap his hands as the Minister finished his long speech.

"Oh. So," Harry said, not knowing what to say beyond that. Draco probably didn't hear him, anyway. People's cheers were getting louder as a Ministry official shouted the names written on the statue.

And then there was a hand in Harry's own, cold and clammy, but its grip was firm. Breathing heavily, Harry glanced sideways to see Draco's expression. Draco was looking straight ahead, his jaw clenched, and cheeks flushed. He looked as though he was in pain. Harry squeezed his hand a little and he thought he could see Draco's features relax.

The cameras flashed around them, some of them directed at Harry. People in front of him moved away to let the photographers have a clear shot.

Harry tensed as murmurs broke out; people pointed and whispered and stared, and Harry waited for the moment Draco would move away in disgust.

However, Draco tightened his grip on Harry's hand, squeezing it so hard it hurt.

Instead of cringing, Harry bit his lip, looked straight at the camera and smiled.

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Fin

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