Distorted Exposure

Disclaimer: I don't own anything you may recognize. Everything belongs to the wonderful JKRowling and others. I am making no profit from this. To put it plainly: don't sue.

AN: Sorry it took so long. Thanks to everyone who reviewed.


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Harry stuffed his hands deep into his pockets and looked up as he heard the footsteps of the blond fade away. He resisted the urge to shiver in the newfound cold and tried desperately to dispel the knot his insides had wound themselves into. His resolve was as strong as ever but being in Malfoy’s arms did inexplicable things to his physical state, things that couldn’t be avoided despite any amount of resolve he might have.

Catching the questioning look Alex was giving him, Harry directed his eyes downward, cast off the unease and started off toward the mansion. Half way through his return trip Harry realized that his jaw was clenched painfully shut and he eased it open with a sigh, hating the insecure way he was feeling.

The night before he had decided that he was fine with this. He had realized that by being completely comfortable with the process he was expected to go through he could come out of it with minimal damage to himself and maximal confusion on the part of Malfoy. But of course, nothing was ever that simple, and the uncouth reactions of his body were testament to that.

Being in Malfoy’s arms made the situation infinitely more complicated, and for the most inexplicable reasons. For one thing, despite the bracingly cold weather, at least for a portion of the shoot his boxers had been uncomfortably confining. His only condolence was that by the end of it he was almost assured that Malfoy was having the same sort of problem.

The thought brought a smile to Harry’s lips, he was a stubborn man but that didn’t make him blind. He knew that with a little tweaking of the situation he could cause Malfoy a great deal of grief, that in turn translated to a great deal of happiness on his part. It only helped that Malfoy was drop dead gorgeous, a fact that was inarguable despite how fickle his personality was. In fact the more he thought about it, the less grief it seemed to cause him.

Harry headed directly towards the bedroom once he entered the mansion, completely aware of the fact that Malfoy would be there but unshaken by the fact. Surely enough, when he entered the room he saw Malfoy stride across it, a large fluffy blue towel in one hand and an assortment of clothes in the other.

Completely ignoring the dirty look Malfoy shot him before disappearing into the bathroom, Harry made his way over to his bags and pulled out a change of clothes: a pair of black cotton pyjama bottoms and a loose fitting sleeveless shirt. After he had finished changing, Harry thanked the heavens for the cold which had taken care of his earlier issues and grabbed a Quiditch book that he had packed.

Deciding to curl up on the couch with the idea that he wasn’t very likely going to be disturbed so long as he kept his distance from the bed, Harry stretched himself out and poked the fire to a roaring blaze from across the room, enjoying the night time quality to the room despite it only being late afternoon.

Nearly half an hour later the door at his foot clicked open and out stepped Malfoy. His hair, dry, fell flat against his head in manner that was enough to make Harry envious. And his skin, predictably flawless, glowed with a refreshed light. Without so much as a glance Harry’s way, he strode across the room and threw himself on the bed, stretching out languidly and sighing in a show of pleasure that was more of an exaggeration than anything.

Harry merely watched him, comfortable enough in his resolutions not to want to ruin Malfoy’s content with childish insults as was per usual. Malfoy seemed to take offence to the silent acceptance of his more than obvious bragging because he turned himself over and scowled antagonizingly at Harry. The brunette watched passively, heartened by his own self-restraint. After so many years of arguing it felt good to be the one shutting up for once, and better yet he felt as though he had come out on top.

Harry’s emerald gaze met the clear silver eyes of Malfoy from across the room and the blond quickly shifted his eyes. Harry kept watching him coolly, slowly taking Malfoy’s form as it shifted, discomforted, on the bed. The sight made his throat tight but he didn’t look away. This was his rival of so many years, the one who had made his years at Hogwarts less than bearable and yet now, in this room, in this place, Harry couldn’t help but drink in every inch of his perfect body. And worst of all, the most disconcerting thought of all, was that it didn’t exactly feel wrong, not as much as he would have liked anyways.

By the time Harry managed to drift off to sleep his mind was so torn between the thought of watching Malfoy and his rational thought process which dictated that taking such a passive stance towards the blond was so utterly wrong and foolhardy that he could scarcely rest. In the morning he awoke to fading dreams that left him wary and less than comfortable in certain ways and wishing more than anything that he were back in the black and white world of Quidditch.

There he could spend his days flying around in the sky, with little care but for a tiny golden ball that seemed eternally destined to end up in his hand and by night he slept with just about anyone he pleased. That wasn’t to say he was promiscuous but he couldn’t exactly be considered lacking in experience either.

Harry dragged himself from bed, already dreading the cold shower that awaited him without fail. Grumbling all the way he dragged his feet across the plush carpet, grabbing some clothes and a towel he went through the door that led to the bathroom and shut it behind him. He wrinkled his nose in an observant manner, the room still faintly smelled of Malfoy and his expensive shampoos and other products, and this early in the morning he couldn’t quite decipher how he felt about that.

Quickly turning on the shower he held his hand under it, sighing in relief as a recoiling shudder passed through his wakened body at the mere action of sticking one hand under the running water. Stripping down, Harry placed the towel within reach and stepped under the cold spray, goose bumps breaking out across his skin as the water hit him, trickling down his back and waking him up a little more.

The bathroom was spacious and lavishly decorated in the same manner as the bedroom. There was a larger porcelain tub with clawed feet that sat off to one corner, it looked perfect for a soak but Harry had yet to try it out. There was also a carefully sculpted toilet further off in a corner, and some ways beyond it was a sink with a mirror that hung above it. The sink was accompanied by a counter on which sat several bottles of whatever products Malfoy used. Harry used the sink only to brush his teeth and run a haphazard comb through his hair.

The shower in which he was currently washing in was a glass encased, roughly tiled area. The walls though slightly translucent were engraved with intricate swirls making it impossible to see within. Beside it was a towel rack and an area on which he could stand to dry himself. Inside the shower two walls were smooth, delicate looking tiles while the other two were of glass, and there was enough room in it to be able to stretch every which way and take a truly cleansing shower.

Still, Harry barely enjoyed the luxuries as he turned up the heat a bit to warm himself up, before shampooing and lathering down. Rinsing he stepped from the shower and dried himself off. After wrapping the towel around his waist Harry caught his reflection briefly in the full length mirror that was some ways off from the door but on the same wall.

Harry turned away almost immediately, not really vain enough to be interested. He threw on a set of clothes and ran a comb through his hair, not even bothering to look in the mirror. He quickly brushed his teeth, revelling in the minty freshness that invaded his mouth, making him feel more awake then the shower had and finally dragged himself out of the room, distinctly pleased with the fact that it now smelled of his own products and shampoo.

When Harry stepped out from the bathroom he came face to face with a relatively pissed looking blond. Malfoy was tapping his foot impatiently as he scowled his best scowl [or as good a scowl as he could manage that early in the morning] and looked just about ready to take his irritation out on it’s obvious cause: him.

Harry stepped out of his way lazily, rolling his eyes at the dramatics of the blond in turn. An action the he supposed was to go unanswered, though he must have been wrong because he was shouldered rather nastily as he stepped past. Harry let it go without retaliation, preferring instead to take an interested note of the way Malfoy jerked away even before they had brushed passed each other.

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The corridor was dark but Harry could instantly sense the other presence in the hall. He was immediately sure of who it was, over the past couple days he had become more that just a little aware of Alex’s presence.

Harry turned around slowly, facing the man with a playful smile, one that Alex returned with earnest.

“Morning,” came the greeting and Harry simply smiled again.

“I suppose it is.”

“Oh, cheeky, real cheeky.”

Harry chuckled softly, his voice echoing slightly between the narrow walls. For a few moments more he flirted casually, enjoying the company of someone other than Malfoy. His world felt almost balanced.

Somewhere in the distance Harry thought he heard the click of the door closing, but he couldn’t be sure. Snapping out of his daze he saw the Alex was closer than he remembered. The light that managed to filter into this lonely corridor highlighted half his face and Harry felt a familiar rush of warmth.

Harry didn’t protest when Alex leaned in, his lips brushing his own slowly, and in the moment he let the other have the control. His lips parted slowly and Alex followed suit, their tongues darting out to brush across each other.

The airy moan caught in his throat and Harry pushed a little more, his tongue sliding over his partner’s and into his mouth as he explored it with care. After several long moments they pulled apart, slightly dizzy and with Harry giving Alex an simple questioning look. Alex merely shrugged and pulled away.

“Why-?” Harry let the word hang in the air between them, not quite ready to elaborate, and not sure he needed to.

“There were reasons,” Alex responded cryptically as he turned and made his way down the hall. Harry gave it a moment and followed, decisively confused by the man’s behaviour.

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“What the hell are we doing here?” Malfoy asked, his drawl managing to sound displeased and incredulous all at once.

Harry was silently wondering the same thing but refused to raise his voice in support of the blond, not that he needed it, for he was glaring Alex down fiercely enough as it was.

“Well I was hoping you’d do your job but maybe that’s asking a bit much of you.” Alex replied snippily.

Harry caught the photographer’s eye and gave a small smile, one that Alex returned. Surprisingly enough the air was quite clear between them, and the kissing incident weigh less heavily on his mind than the thought of having another photo shoot with Malfoy ever could.

The only aspect worse than doing another shoot with Malfoy, was doing another shoot with Malfoy on a gothic staircase. The structure was steep, narrow and curved slightly, and was complete with black iron railings. The lighting itself was good enough on the actually staircase that it gave a good impression of the structure but the top half was easily swallowed up by the gloom.

“Can we get on with this?” Ren asked quietly, Harry could practically see the excitement pouring off her in waves and was certain nothing good could come from it.

Neither Harry nor Malfoy graced her with an answer and determinedly avoided so much as glancing at one another.

“Good. Since you two seems to be on such good terms,” she said sweetly, “Lets move on to something a little more exciting shall we?”

Malfoy opened his mouth to protest, Harry didn’t need to so much as glance at him to know as much, but when he didn’t jump in with his own protests the blond shut himself up. Harry smirked, his posture was challenging, and admittedly he was a little pleased that Malfoy didn’t back down in the least.

“Perfect. Now get up on those stairs.”

Harry trudged up the stairs, feeling remotely as though he were walking to his doom, which, judging by the glint in Ren’s eye, he just might have been.

“Our goal today is to get to first base boys, think you can handle that?”

Harry felt that he handled the shock quite well, simply shrugging it off while his mind fired up countless possibilities of snogging Malfoy, not all bad. The blond in question on the other hand was wearing an indiscernible expression, somewhere between predatory and calm, and Harry wasn’t quite sure whether to be nervous or relieved at having avoided what he thought would be the inevitable explosion.

“Give us a couple shots leading up to it, try and keep it so that we can see both of you, and give it a little tongue will you?”

Harry wasn’t sure whether to blush or laugh but both options flew off the table as he felt Malfoy wrap one arm around him, pulling him in. For a moment Harry didn’t budge, but the resistance nearly sent him crashing down the stairs so he eased himself into the blonde’s frame, leaning a little to that he was about two inches shorter than Malfoy.

Harry tipped his head slightly, looking up into the gloom, and feeling Malfoy’s breath against his temple. He wanted to turn around, to shove the blond down and have a little control for himself because despite how easily entangled their forms had become, Harry was certain that Malfoy held him in a condescending manner, if such a thing were possible.

The flutter of the camera reached his ears and Harry felt Draco’s grip tighten a little, pulling his back tighter against his chest. Harry felt a wary tingle run through him, not entirely unpleasant.

Malfoy shifted, twisting Harry a little but moving himself more to the side, taking himself down a step and gently placing his face against the crook of Harry’s neck. Harry thought that he could feel the blond take in a deep breath but couldn’t be sure. Crossing his hands in front of him, he tried his best to zone out and play the vulnerable submissive.

Grabbing Harry’s far wrist, Malfoy pulled him down two steps, nearly throwing him off the stairs before yanking his body back against his own. Expecting no less, Harry wasn’t fazed so much by Malfoy’s actions as he was by the professional way in which Malfoy was handling himself. It was too calm and it made Harry just a little suspicious of his motivations. Though that was hardly the appropriate thought to have when he was pulled up so close against Malfoy.

The complete one-eighty in Malfoy’s personality had thrown Harry for a loop, his pulse beat just that little bit stronger in his veins, and he really had to fight hard to rein his own misgivings towards the situation he found himself in: completely at the mercy of one Draco Malfoy.

Harry didn’t notice the camera click in the background, nor his own shallow breathing, not the racing of his heart or the faint rustle of clothing, in fact whole world was muted as Malfoy leaned in. The quick glance that they sent each other, an observance of expression revealed nothing but a deep-rooted intensity. Obviously Malfoy was very good at converting his feelings of hatred into more suggestive ones in the eye of the camera.

Malfoy’s lips were pale, but a stark pink against his alabaster skin, and as they brushed against his own, Harry let his eyes lid halfway. Slowly he let his mouth drift open, and as if on cue Malfoy slipped his tongue out and trailed it along the bottom lip for a second. Harry met it tenderly, before he let the blond into his own mouth.

Barely aware of himself, Harry slowly felt the pull of reality, his heart plunged and his stomach seemed to have disappeared, not to mention he was half-hard already. Harry ached to wrap his hands around the blond, wanting to feel the firm frame inch by inch as Malfoy mapped out his mouth in much the same way but the blond held both his wrists securely at waist level. That added with the slight height advantage he had from being on the top step gave him complete control.

It was perfect technique, intense and compelling. Still there was a fake quality to it, and Harry was certain that like himself Malfoy was holding back. Perhaps he should have been thankful because as it was his head was a little hazy, but for a split second he wanted the camera to disappear and the reservations too.

When Malfoy pulled away, after one last gentle nip at his lower lip, Harry nearly yanked himself away, still stinging from the experience but the blond held him fast. If anything he was pulled closer and he felt the stare that Malfoy shot into the camera. He gently turned his head, letting it stay against Malfoy’s as he put on as best an insecure look as could manage at the moment without being candid.

Malfoy released him and Harry stepped down a step and disregarded the urge to wipe his lips in a taunt. The background flickers from the camera died away and Harry was left looking uncertainly at Malfoy. Unfortunately for him, his obvious hatred for the blond was now accompanied by a less that welcome urge to jump his bones.

“That was interesting.” Ren’s voice cut Harry from his musings which had started to take an all too disturbing line. “Great shots.”

“So tell me Potter,” Malfoy drawled, his eyes never leaving Harry’s emerald gaze. “How hard are you?”

Harry nearly choked, and suddenly he noticed the height advantage Malfoy had on him, being two whole steps higher. Heat flooded his body and Harry resisted the urge to look away and hoped more than anything that his cheeks weren’t as flushed as they should have been.

“Insecure are we?” Harry shot back, immediately defensive.

“That ego needs deflating Potter…you’re not worth getting bothered over.” Malfoy said, his tone deceitfully soft, and Harry knew it well enough to know that he was in dangerous waters. “But just for the record, do tell, which one of your two snog sessions did you prefer.” His tone was pure acid.

Everything clicked together all at once. The faint sounds he remembered hearing in the corridor, the simple way in which Alex seemed to completely disregard the fact that anything had happened between them after the fact. And then, all he could do was laugh.

It was so obvious now, the reason Malfoy had gone along with the shoot, the way he had handled it all. The blond had actually felt threatened. And Alex had planned the whole thing. It really was too much.

Malfoy shot him a dirty glance and turned heel with a barely audible ‘whatever’. Harry let himself quite down, settling for an amused smile. Well that certainly wasn’t how had had expected things to turn out, but he wasn’t exactly disappointed. Quite the opposite in fact, because now he had something against Malfoy that he had never in his wildest dreams hoped to have. And that alone made his day. Well that and the fact that he had just spent the last little while snogging the hottest thing to walk into his life.

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AN: Sorry it took so long. Two weeks, I know. But this is the longest chapter yet, and the best in my opinion. Still I am so sorry for how long it took and I will try my hardest to try and keep to an update per week. I can't promise anything though.

I haven't read this through yet, I'll work on that but for now I just wanted to get it posted.

Still, review cause every review I get tempts me to write more and more.

Oh and if you want to be emailed in notice of updates just let me know in a review.

Edit: Just cleaning things up a little, I still need to check the nineth chapter but this one is pretty clean of stupid typos and awkward phrasing, or at least as much as I could make it.

- Incessant_Darkness