Gay Aurors

A large crowd was gathered outside of the Leaky and Harry heard the abrupt sound check going on inside. Normally, the Leaky didn't host anything aside from magical lushes and the assorted Ministry worker-- often one and the same-- which left Harry curious and Ron irritated.

"What in the bloody hell is this? A bloke goes in to get pissed and there's a queue?" Ron's glare turned to leers when he saw the scantily clad birds buzzing about, but only momentarily.

Harry smiled as best he could with the hope that this added tension wouldn't shatter their uneasy peace. They'd both apologized, in their own fashion, and thus far things had been looking good. For the time being, Harry had put his feelings for Draco on the shelf. Maybe he hadn't been himself since he'd started in with Draco. He'd argue that he had always been vexed by Ron's womanizing and how different Hermione was; he'd never felt the urge to voice it before. That would just lead to more arguing and he didn't want to do that.

"Kirley Duke of the Weird Sisters! He's working on a solo album and wants to test out material!" said a young slapper who couldn't have been more than 19, at best.

Ron shot Harry a malicious smile. "How exciting, your partner's here with his boyfriend, Harry."

Harry wasn't sure if he was more hurt that it was probably true that Draco was in there with Duke or that Ron was pointing it out to hurt him on purpose.

"Oh my God, you're Harry Potter!" the bint Ron had been talking to squealed excitedly. "Do you know Kirley Duke? Can you introduce me?"

Normally squealing fangirls irked Harry, but at the moment, he was pleased to receive Ron's jealous glare. He returned it with a glare of his own that said, you deserve at least that.

"As a matter of fact, I do know him," said Harry. He wished he didn't, at least not in the way he knew him, but that hardly seemed the point now.

"Oh that's fantastic! Come on!" she squeaked, tugging Harry through the crowd by his arm.

There was an unsettling amount of activity inside of the usually barren confines of the Leaky. Girls and boys were dressed in flashy colors and Weird Sisters t-shirts, many of which featured a winking Kirley Duke, giving a sleazy thumbs-up before cycling back to the wink. What. A. Cheese-ball.

Another abrupt blurt of the sound system brought Harry's attention to King Cheese himself. Kirley straddled a stool on a makeshift transfigured stage that sat in what was usually the darkest part of the Leaky. Enchanted oil lamps in primary colors hung over his head, casting a chaotic light on Kirley and the stage. Harry wish-not-wished that one of the lamps would tumble over and disfigure Kirley. The thought made him ashamed. Maybe Draco liked him better, maybe not, but no one really deserved that.

Kirley was tuning one of his many fantastical multi-necked guitars and then flipped his hair back to look up and around, eyes obviously dazzled by the light. His smirk was like a discount imitation of Draco's, as if he were borrowing Draco's natural detached wryness. It looked affected to Harry, but the screaming it elicited from the crowd made Harry doubt that anyone else thought that. They just didn't know Draco.

Speaking of, Harry squinted around the room, rising on his toes to catch sight of Draco's white-blond head, cast red-then-green in the spiral of lights, leaning casually against the bar. Or at least, his posture was casual. His eyes scanned the room deftly, and while Harry wanted to believe that maybe he was looking for him, he'd observed Draco measuring for threats too many times to see it as anything but that.

When Draco's eyes rested on Harry, they widened. Quickly over his surprise, Draco sneer-smirked in that effortless way that once had vexed Harry, but now it melted him a little. Draco lifted his hand and curled a finger to draw Harry to him. The girl who had hold of Harry's arm was irritated when he excused himself and toddled off in a huff. Harry couldn't be arsed to care about her, or where Ron had gotten off to at the moment.

He squeezed through the crowd to join Draco. For a moment, Draco looked away suddenly, his eyes keen on a young man getting too close to the stage. A murmured word and there was a sharp purple flare and the young man bounced back into the crowd.

"Duke doesn't have his own security, Malfoy?"

Draco sipped from a tall glass of clear, sparkling fluid. The glass was almost empty. "They're incompetent boobs."

It was disheartening to see Draco so protective of Kirley, but perhaps it was just a job. Harry wanted to ask, but the answer might be more than he wanted to know. "Most people are, compared to you. Can I buy you another? Gin and tonic?"

"Was that a compliment, Potter? Be still my beating heart!" Draco sounded caustic and probably was, but his grin reflected genuine amusement. "At last, something we agree upon."

Harry blushed at the reception of his compliment and shrugged. "Right, well. Another drink?"

"Just tonic. Not drinking on the job." Draco sucked a cube of ice from the tall, narrow glass. He pushed it in and out between the puckered hole his lips formed, levering it with his tongue, eyes half-lidded at Harry.

All Harry could do was to stare. The only messages that got through went to his cock, which knew well enough to salute in appreciation. His jaw dropped awkwardly open and he tried to form words, a valiant effort, he thought, but nothing was coming out.

Parting his lips, Draco flipped the cube into his mouth with a quick motion, moving it to his molars. Face screwed up with the effort, Draco crunched the cube between his teeth, which was enough to make Harry start and blink. "Yes, I'd like another, Potter."

Harry nodded to Tom and pointed to Draco's drink and it refilled itself, fluid rising from the bottom of the glass. A few replacement cubes of ice popped into the mix until the glass was full.

"They say chewing ice is a sign of sexual frustration," Harry pointed out, trying to regain some semblance of dignity as he pulled his long, brown t-shirt down over his bulge.

"Do you think I'm sexually frustrated, Potter?" Draco asked. His tone sounded casual, or rather, it sounded like he wanted it to be casual. It was a subtle difference, although one that was hard to discern with any certainty over the din.

Maybe it was just wishful thinking. "I'm not in a position to make that sort of assessment."

Draco cut eyes at Harry for a moment and sucked another cube into his mouth. It bulged his cheek as he set it to the side to say, "Oh, I think you're the only one in a position to make that sort of assessment."

If that meant what Harry thought it meant... what he wanted it to mean... A thrill went through Harry's core at the notion that Draco still hadn't gone there with Kirley. Part of him wanted to just believe that and not ask for clarification, but the needy part of his brain wouldn't let it go. Screwing up his courage, he sorted words to ask, but instead felt a pull on his shoulder and was whirled around to see Hermione.

It wasn't that Hermione was a particularly large girl. Really, she was fairly small, but her choice of wardrobe often lead to unfortunate rolls of flesh that hung over a too-tight leather skirt and a sequined halter that did little to prop up her sagging tits. Harry only had a moment to contemplate this before she threw herself at him for a drunken embrace.

"Oh my, Harry! Someone's happy to see me!" she exclaimed, pulling back to look pointedly at the front of his jeans.

"Erm, that's not for um... that's... er... what are you doing here?" asked Harry, not sure what else to say. He wanted to shriek that it had nothing to do with her at all, but that would certainly reveal that he had one to Draco, and wouldn't be very nice to Hermione.

"Oh, I just had to get out of the house and I heard there was a show and I just love the Weird Sisters!" Hermione exclaimed.

Harry furrowed his brows. He hadn't remembered her ever mentioning them in particular, but then, she had changed a lot, and perhaps this was just one of the many things he hadn't known that came bubbling to the surface after her "summer makeover." On the bright side, her presence was wilting his erection, so at least he wouldn't have to face Draco with that again.

"Oh yeah, they're great," said Harry.

"Granger." Draco's voice drawled with the full tilt of his aristocratic derision. "Long time, no...see."

"Malfoy," she answered her voice wobbly and eyes wide. Hermione had never really been afraid of Malfoy before, but perhaps Ron had told her about his super-skills, because now she was cowering.

"Oh yes, I'm seeing most everything now, aren't I?" Draco languorously dragged himself from the bar, all eyes and calculation as he crossed to them. He crouched to get them eye-to-eye, Draco searching hers for a moment until something seemed to click. Straightening, he peered down at her imperiously. "Not quite yourself, are you, Granger?"

Hermione balked, going pale and taking a few steps back. "You've always been such an arsehole. I wish you'd just died in the war!"

"Hermione!" Harry wasn't sure what to say when they both looked at him. It wasn't as if he'd expected that they'd become friends, but he really wouldn't have expected Hermione to behave that way.

"I don't care what anyone says or thinks. I know you're still a big, ugly, nasty bigot!"

Already she was fleeing them, winding her way through the crowd. Harry watched her retreat as he heard Draco laughing behind him. Sometimes, he really hated how cruel Draco could be. But by the same token, Draco hadn't really said anything to merit the overblown reaction.

Deciding to stay and talk to Draco about it, Harry turned to find that somehow Ron had gotten past him and was now in Draco's face.

"What did you say to her?" growled Ron. He grabbed the front of Draco's burgundy robes, pulling their faces close. His other hand clenched and unclenched, a tell-tale sign that he really wanted to punch Draco but questioned the wisdom of doing so.

"I said she wasn't herself," said Draco. His face was placid, not at all the wailing infant he'd been in school. He was relaxed against the constraints of the fabric, leaning into them so casually that it was clear he didn't consider Ron a threat. "And she isn't, is she... Won-Won?"

Harry thought for certain that the old nickname was going to push Ron to beat Draco down, but instead, he just stared at Draco. His clenching hand fell limp by his side and then Ron let Draco go completely. "You've no idea what you're on about, Malfoy."

Draco let out a derisive huff and rolled his eyes. "Of course I don't. I'm way off base. She's exactly as she's always been. Out of my way, Weasley."

Pushing Ron aside, Draco mumbled another incantation and three people were zapped back from the stage.

Kirley looked up and beamed at Draco and announced to the crowd that he was going to start. "This first song is for my dear, sweet dragon who watches out for me."

Ron muttered, "This is bollocks. Come on, Harry."

As much as Harry wanted to stay and ask what the shit everyone was on about, the combination of Ron tugging him away to sulk and that Kirley Duke had evidently written a song about Draco was more than enough impetus to leave.

He looked back at Draco as he was being dragged away. Draco was watching him leave, ignoring the first few strains of "his song" to fellate another piece of ice at Harry.

Oh sweet dragon prince,
Won't you come home to me?
Open your door and give me the love
You know I'm dying for

The combination of jealousy, arousal and utter confusion about what had transpired between the Weasleys and Draco was more than a match for Harry's mental bandwidth. He was relieved when Ron pulled him through the crowd, out into the night and dragged him to a less packed bar to rant about how much of a tosser Draco still was. At the moment, Harry was inclined to agree.

--

Though they hadn't really spoken since receiving their assignment, Harry was quite glad to be out of the office and breathing in the fresh salt air of Whitecliff Bay. The campsite at the holiday park had been cleared of civilians as best as it could be so that the Veela population of London could have their mating rites on the designated day in peace.

The Aurors were assigned there to keep the general population from the rite. Owing to the preternatural lure that was intrinsic to Veela, often a high density of them in one place attracted a human contingent.

"That's how Fleurs happen," Draco had added helpfully.

Harry was an obvious choice for the assignment, in Kingsley's view, because he had proven impervious to Veela charms. Kingsley had also complimented Draco's highly-tuned Occlumency skills which he thought made them the perfect team to keep the peace. Draco had become strangely quiet in light of the load of flattery and had said very little since.

The plan was for them to stay the night to guard the revels while keeping as hidden as possible. While the Ministry found the idea of interspecies relations alarming, the Veela had no such personal restrictions on mating on this particular night.

As the campsite was large and offered little in the way of natural cover, Draco suggested that they split the area to put up magical wards against humans. Obviously, their magic would not restrict magical beasts, which meant that it would be easy and undetectable for the lascivious Veela to pass in and out of the locale. It also meant that any other beasts might enter the area and have their way with the tarts, but that was hardly of Ministry concern.

To the north of the camp was a small wood, mostly for privacy and to shield the view of the road behind it. They were close enough to distantly hear the shore, but the view had obviously disappointed Draco, even though he made no comment outside of a quiet, "Hmpf."

Draco finished first and set up a small camp with a large cushion for them to share with a few blankets. Harry tried not to stare at Draco's arse when he bent over to spread out the blankets. It was so rare that Draco wore trousers and these clung to him a little too well. Tearing his gaze away, he noted an open hamper with provisions of tea, coffee, and Coq au Vin that continued to simmer in two small square containers.

"I half expected it to be sushi," said Harry after sniffing the French chicken stew.

"Those are bento boxes if that makes you feel better."

It was the first smile Harry had seen him crack that day and he was pleased that some of the tension was broken. "That is a relief."

For a moment, Draco just looked at Harry, studying him curiously. He felt a nudge at his mind, but it went away before he even had to block it. Draco blushed and looked away. "Sorry, habit. Anyway... seems you're catching on to the Japanese theme, hm? Brighter than I would've thought. I'll have to be more subtle."

"So is that where your monastery was? Is that where you've learned your mad ninja skills?" Harry took a seat on the cushion and bounced. "Thought we'd be on the ground."

"Ninja wizard, hm? Sure, why not?" Draco took the spot next to him and poured them each a cup of tea. "I figured if the orgy was boring, we could watch in shifts. I leave sitting on the dirty ground to the beasts."

"It's not an orgy! It's a mating ritual!" Harry was glad of his cup to hide behind as his cheeks flushed. He wondered if sleeping was really what Draco intended with the bed. Surely by now he wasn't that naive. As much as Harry wanted to call him on it, he didn't want to sour any chance he might have of shagging him.

"Right, well, there's going to be fucking. Between a lot of people. You say tomato, I say orgy."

Harry shifted uncomfortably at the idea of watching an orgy with Draco. It wouldn't exactly provide a legitimate excuse for them to fuck. After all, if he was likely to be affected by the Veela, he wouldn't be here. Neither would Draco. Up until this point, Harry hadn't thought about what they were going to protect in terms of being an actual sex act. Veela were magical creatures, so it shouldn't be sexy.

Except, he did remember the Veela at the Quidditch Cup and they really were beautiful... women. "Wait, aren't all Veela women?"

Draco wrinkled his nose and asked, "What would make you think that?"

"Well, they were at the Quidditch World Cup... and Fleur's a Veela... and there were rumors about your mum, even. All girls." Finishing his tea, he set the mug down, settling it in the grass.

"Now I know you were blowing Hagrid for grades if you are that ignorant about magical creatures." Draco rolled his eyes and poured Harry another cup from the enchanted kettle that kept the tea at precisely right temperature, tasting freshly brewed every time. "How would they breed if there were only females? That doesn't even make sense, Potter."

Blinking, Harry tried to recall the Veela lesson and drew a blank. Then he thought about the mechanics of wrapping his mouth around a giant's cock and squicked himself. He knew that Draco was being facetious, but he didn't like the implication that he'd put his mouth around anyone's cock but Draco's. Discussing that, however, would mean admitting his inexperience yet again and revisiting the subject of Hagrid's prick, which he wasn't keen on doing. "I guess I thought they were like The Smurfs."

"Smurfs?"

Sometimes Harry forgot about the holes in Wizard-to-Muggle culture. He tried to think of how to explain Smurfs. "Well, they're these little blue creatures, two apples high. They're car--"

"Whatever, I hated that class and didn't take the advanced. Are they dangerous?"

"Erm... no, not dangerous at all, they're actually on the--"

"Right well, then who cares? The important thing is that there are male and female Veela who will be covering this field with spunk, not just female Veela. The Bulgarians just had female Veela like Muggles have female cheerleaders. It was entertainment and the female Veela are generally more comfortable for Quidditch watchers to be attracted to. Well, most, anyway."

Draco lay back on the cushion, wadding up the blanket to rest his head on and closed his eyes.

Though Harry felt like he should explain the Smurfs further to Draco, it was evident he didn't much care. It was a pity he didn't, as Harry really wanted to share his thoughts on an all-male society and the cultural implications of homosexual relations within the confines of this small, blue world. He wondered how Smurfs managed to go by unscathed when the Teletubbies were reviled as homosexual. But Draco would have no idea about those either, and Harry had no fucking clue how to explain them. So instead, he just watched the first few Veela appear in the field and begin their extravagant mating dance.

The dance itself seemed to have an underlying rhythm and contained many swoops and swirls that weren't unlike the dances that emo kids with pale faces and smudged kohl around their eyes tended to do. There would be a few steps forward, a few back, many turns and then the surprise and fright of the full angered Veela, bird-like and pecking at each other's faces. While the creatures maintained a human facade that was quite dazzling, their bodies seemed to lose definition when they commingled, wrapping around each other in flashes of feather and skin to ivory bone till their cries pierced the air.

Harry wasn't affected by the waves of lusty magic that emanated like ripples of a pond towards him, but he felt the surges brushing past like fingers across his cheek. It caused an uncomfortable tingle of attraction and want in the pit of his stomach that he hoped wasn't due to watching creatures mating. But then, they were humanoid... sometimes. He turned to see how Draco was taking this, figuring he had it so blocked out that he was likely bored, but Draco was still reclined.

His arms were folded over his face in the way that Harry knew from their fucking that Draco often did when he was aroused and ashamed of it. Scanning down his lean torso, he watched the way that his chest rose and fell at an accelerated pace and his body writhed against the cushion. Allowing himself a peek at Draco's trousers and saw them tented.

While the vision of the Veela had caused a tingle in his belly, Harry could most definitely not resist the lure of Draco squirming and erect. He felt the blood pooling and his cock twitching with interest. Harry reminded himself that they were here to do a job, that he was Draco's partner and it was his duty to keep him from getting carried away if he was unable to resist the charm of the Veela.

Just then it occurred to him that what he was witnessing wasn't caused by him. Draco was hard because of those creatures. The notion twisted Harry around, dizzying him with a possessive fury that caught on the wind and blew hard through the sprouting leaves on the trees and scattered their fallen brethren around him. He grabbed Draco's cock through his pants, closing his fingers around the rigidity as if to say, mine.

"Haaarrryyyy... doooon't."

The plaintiveness of Draco's wail in and of itself would not have been enough to shake Harry from his gathering mood, but the fact that his first name drawled out from under Draco's arms did get his attention. Harry pulled his hand back, leaving Draco to pump blindly into the emptiness.

"What is going on, Mal-- Dra-- What's going on?" Harry sat up on his knees and gave a quick glance to the Veela. The few that had been on the field were joined by many others and he heard a sudden, wispy music like tonal Parseltongue wafting in their direction. For a moment Harry wondered if that was what people affected heard, and if he was about to be caught up in it all, but as his mind was still fixed on Draco, he decided that was not the case.

"I... It's... I..." Under his arms, Draco's face was pale and seemed to almost sparkle in the twilight.

Something was happening, something more than what Harry had witnessed happening to Ron back at the Quidditch World Cup. Firmly, he grabbed Draco's elbows and pried his arms from his face to look into his straining features. Perhaps it was a trick of the light that made Draco suddenly so mesmerizing. His lashes seemed darker; his hair shone brightly, waving platinum locks splayed around his head like a shining crown.

It wasn't until Draco opened his eyes that Harry really understood that there was something truly amiss. He'd always taken the terms "shimmering orbs" or "eyes like reflective pools" as severe poetic license, but Draco's eyes had really turned from their normal grey to a reflective silver. They glittered in intense reflection of the blue hour, eerie and queer, as fierce as they were beautiful.

"Are you still... Malfoy?" asked Harry slowly, eyes narrowed in his concern that Draco might be possessed.

Watching Draco roll his eyes had never been quite so dazzling. "Don't be stupid. Of course I am."

"But you're..."

"As it turns out... the rumors about my mum were true," said Draco, a little meekly. He sat up on his elbows and twisted uncomfortably, his face bunched up as he fought arousal.

"Oh." Harry didn't know what to say. Part of him wanted to point out what a narrow view Draco always had on half-breeds and half-bloods and how ironic he was one, but then, Voldemort had been worse about it. As he thought about it, he did note that mostly he called Hagrid an oaf and Tonks clumsy. He'd been rather politic about their blood, all things considered. "Well, that's... I mean... kind of cool, right?"

Harry wrinkled his nose at himself. Maybe it was and maybe it wasn't, but right now was perhaps not the time to marvel over it.

"Black family was kind of... kinky," said Draco between puffs of air. He slid his hand down his pants and started to fondle himself.

All Harry could do for a moment was watch the motion of the fabric, knowing that Draco's hand was wrapped around himself and that he was lying right there next to him tossing himself off. "Guess so, what with Tonks and all. That was from the Black genes too, yeah?"

"Mmhmm..." answered Draco. He'd sucked his lips into his mouth and opened his glittering eyes to watch Harry's face intently again. "You can't... let me go out... there.... I'll... want to, probably."

"You're part of them, aren't you? Shouldn't you go?" Even as Harry said it, he knew he wouldn't be able to stand watching Draco out there cavorting with the others. He leaned over to place his hand on the other side of Draco's hip, resting his weight across Draco's legs.

Draco shook his head. "No. M' human. I thought... I thought that I'd be impervious..." He laughed sickly and shook his head. "Not so much."

"You've always known?" asked Harry. Draco shifted down the cushion and now rutted his cock against Harry's hip. As little as the Veela did for him, Harry was going to have a hard time resisting that. He brought his other hand around and wrapped it around Draco's wanking hand.

"Yesss..." Draco answered. Or at least Harry thought that was an answer to his question. Flopping against the cushions, Draco released his cock to let Harry do the work. Part Veela or not, the gesture was pure Draco and Harry couldn't help but grin. "Intensified my magic a bit."

"Oh," said Harry. It made more sense now, at least in where the sheer force of his power came from. How he'd learned to control it was still a mystery. Fleur was powerful, but he'd never seen her pull some of the stunts Draco had. In fact, of the contestants of the Triwizard Tournament, she'd been the weakest. This was an opportune moment to ask, but Harry couldn't focus on business. Not with Draco's hips shifting him hard into Harry's hand, fucking it mercilessly.

It felt like Draco was about to come and Harry was staring down at the shiny head poking out through his fist, obscured by unfastened jeans and the white briefs, when he was thrown back. Harry landed awkwardly sprawled with his shoulders on the hard ground. The force of the blow had nearly knocked the wind out of him.

Before him, Draco stood, tearing off his own clothing, rending his shirt to nothing but fragmented tatters. His nails had grown long and sharp so that when he traced them along the seam of his trousers, they split and fell away uselessly. It left Draco standing there in the bright light of the waning moon porcelain and mysterious, his expression fiercely focused and aroused.

As Draco took his first step towards the field, Harry desperately grabbed Draco's calf. It did little to deter Draco, as he kept moving, dragging Harry through the wasted leaves and nettles. Harry clung, trying not to panic. He wouldn't be able to stand it if he couldn't stop Draco from doing this. He felt the queasiness set in at the idea and it fired up his wrath at the notion of Draco in the midst of a huge orgy.

Again the wind started to pick up, all but blocking out the soft whisper of music. Draco stopped and Harry looked up to see the other Veela looking at them both. Assuming it was reflex that had gotten his wand into his hand, Harry hexed Draco to freeze. He worried that it wouldn't work if Draco was part magical creature, but it had definitely slowed him down.

Harry's frenzy quelled some and the wind began to dissipate. He heard the music picking up again, which caused Draco to twitch. Part of Draco, at least in the presence of the other Veela, was creature. Therefore, Harry would not be able to control Draco by magical means alone.

"Levicorpus!" said Harry. He had to help the spell physically, but it lightened Draco enough that he could easily carry him back to their camp. He peered over his shoulder briefly to see if any of the Veela were going to chase them off, but they seemed quite busy with their own revels.

Placing Draco on the cushion, he stared down into Draco's face, trying to see past the defiance to know that this was what Draco wanted. He postulated that perhaps the need to come was driving Draco's primal needs. Tossing him off was probably the wrong thing to do, but now he lay there, his cock purpled and stiff, looking painful with want.

Draco twitched again and Harry fretted for how well magic was going to hold.

"Incarcerous!" Harry concentrated on the ropes that shot out of the air, watching them wrap around Draco's wrists. They tugged his arms up tightly over his head and then wound around the trunk of a thick tree behind them.

The binding seemed to awaken some rebellious and bestial part of Draco and he broke through the stunning spell and began to thrash, kicking his legs wildly. Harry bound them with spells, each ankle to a different tree. He would rationalize later that it was easier that way, although now that Draco was fully pinned down with his legs spread wide, leaving him open and merciless to Harry's whims, he couldn't deny wanting him just like this.

He pocketed his wand, watching Draco twitch and cavort against his bindings, his chest heaving and his lips open, puffing into the cooling air. Everything was a varied shade of blue, from his lips to his pale face, down to the shining curls and the deep purple blue of his cock. Draco's thighs flexed as he tried to twist his hips, tried to find something for his rigid cock to slide against. He whined and cooed, trying to dig his heels into the mattress to make something move, to gain some sort of touching, some friction.

"Potter... Harry... please!"

As thrilling as it was to watch Draco so desperate to get off, to hear the frustrated mewls, hearing him begging for it send a shiver down Harry's spine. He questioned himself as to whether it was exactly moral to take Draco like this. As much as he was clearly gagging for it, it was something he couldn't control. Their consent had always been at least somewhat shaded by dubiousness, but Draco had always given the final okay.

"God, I need to come. Potter, get your stupid fucking face down here and suck my cock."

Whatever debate he was having about the morality of monster or no monster evaporated. Harry dropped to his knees between Draco's legs, remembering how he'd sucked him off before, the way that Draco filled his mouth, the way he tasted when he came. But then, he felt a sudden thrill of power over Draco. As if every nasty name he'd ever called him, every vile trick, that stupid fucking "Potter Stinks" pin all came to the forefront of his consciousness.

Dragging his fingers along the insides of Draco's thighs, he said, "Why should I do that, Malfoy?"

"You know you want to."

Harry grinned as Draco froze at his touch. He brought his hands just close enough to warm Draco's balls, then dragged his fingers back and splayed them over the tops of his thighs. He enjoyed Draco's loud groan of pain. "Are you sure I want to?"

Draco flexed his lithe body, trying to shift around to force Harry's hand to his cock. The weight of his prick swung heavily over his abdomen, leaving a dotted sticky trail along his skin. Mercilessly, Harry brought his hands to Draco's hips, caressing them in slow circles.

Panting, Draco said, "Yes. You do. I know you do. You love fucking me."

"I do it for the job," said Harry. He knew his tone sounded defensive, but Draco never gave any real indication at how much he enjoyed it, so why should he?

"Right, whatever. Touch me." Draco shifted again and Harry pinned his hips down.

"I'm not going to touch your cock until you admit that you like me fucking you."

Harry looked over his shoulder at the Veela, concerned that Draco's arousal might attract them. He was, after all, part Veela. It appeared that the Veela were quite content with one another. Harry figured Draco had too little creature in him to be particularly notable to them. He glanced again for humans, and satisfied that all was well, he turned his attention back to Draco.

"I do it for the job," Draco mimicked, his voice trembling. He yanked his arms down so hard that Harry thought he might dislocate his shoulder, but the bindings held fast.

"You missed your chance, Malfoy. I'm not going to touch your cock now." Harry smirked fiendishly at Draco's subsequent wail and the way that he glared down at Harry with pure resentment.

"You're a prick. All your friends are pricks. Fucking touch me or fucking go away, you stupid fuck."

Harry didn't answer him, but simply pushed two fingers into his mouth, swirling his tongue around them as he bunched up saliva around them. He pulled his fingers out dripping wet with saliva that shimmered in the moonlight. He traced his fingers around Draco's opening, careful to keep his hand neutrally between Draco's splayed thighs.

Pushing through the ring of muscle, he felt the warm thickness inside. Draco tensed and then twisted, forcing Harry's fingers inside of him to his pressure point and thrust against his fingers like a whore.

"Look how much you love it when I fuck you, Malfoy. I don't even have my cock out and you're taking it like a greedy little slut, aren't you?" There was just something about watching Draco like this, completely at the mercy of his lust, his face pained and his body acting almost of its own accord.

Draco didn't answer, but kept pushing solidly against Harry's fingers, twisting his head to the side to hide his face against his flexing bicep. What could he say? It was obvious how much he loved it.

With his other hand, Harry unfastened his trousers and pushed them down as best he could. All he really had to do was keep his fingers straight; Draco did all of the work, his ass pulling and sucking at Harry desperately.

"You're going to come just from my fingers, aren't you? You want my cock in you so badly, don't you? Admit you want me to fuck you, Malfoy. Tell me you want Harry Potter's cock in your arse."

Draco whimpered and pushed harder against Harry's fingers. To Harry's surprise, it seemed that Draco really was going to come on just his fingers. He curled them forward, pressing his prostate mercilessly and watched as Draco's body tensed, his chest raised and his head thrown back as he gasped for breath. He was beautiful when he came, arched up as his cock twitched and pearly come wetted his abdomen.

Harry had wrapped his hand around himself and pulled slowly, regretting now that he'd worked Draco up that much. Now that Draco didn't need him to come, he really would be taking advantage to fuck him now.

"I love it when you fuck me."

It was mumbled so quietly that had it not caught on the breeze, Harry might not have heard it. He looked up at Draco's face, a darker shade of blue from effort. His eyes still glimmered and reflected, but they were softened by a strange fondness.

Pulling his fingers from inside of Draco, he smeared the come on his abdomen and slicked it over his cock. He wanted to ask if Draco was sure, or if that was all it was, just another fuck, but his need was almost as urgent as Draco's had been a moment before.

Harry crawled up Draco's body, lining himself up with his opening and pushed into him. Already Draco was hard again against his belly and Harry took special care to press against it. It was awkward since Draco was tied up. Each thrust into him made him groan and his hands flexed as his legs were pulled further apart and the ropes bit into his wrists.

Harry wrapped his arms tighter around Draco, digging his knees into the cushion for as much leverage as he could get. He tried to minimize the impact of the thrusts by taking them shallower and quicker, loving the slide of Draco's warm insides sucking around his cock.

But mostly, Harry loved the memory of that meek admittance. "Say it again."

"I love it when you fuck me," Draco breathed into Harry's ear, pushing back against him while trying to keep their bodies pressed together as tightly as they could.

Maybe it was just the night, or maybe it was the beast in Draco that spoke for him, but whatever it was, Harry held fast to it, feeling the whispered words swirling around his head with the memory of Draco's desperate thrashing and the hot pull of being inside of him. Inside of Draco. Connected to him for just these brief moments where he felt like Draco was his and his alone, and would only ever belong to him.

He dug his nails into Draco's back, wanting to mark him, to leave scratches and bites so that anyone who tried to touch him would see.

He bit down on Draco's neck as he came, grunting wildly as if he'd turned into an animal himself, feeling it shoot into Draco's passage, making it wetter and slipperier with each subsequent thrust. He felt a countering wetness between them along with Draco's shudder against him.

Harry kissed all over Draco's face and bit his neck again, claiming his throat and his jaw line as he drug his nails down his pale back. He could picture the hot pink welts, felt Draco tensing beneath him, heard the hisses and gasps and loved each one.

When he reached the small of Draco's back, he went limp on top of him, dead weight crushing Draco down as he breathed against his neck. He wanted to tell Draco that he was his; that he would always be his, but even after all of that, he wasn't sure. So instead of speaking, he just remained there, lodged inside of Draco, clinging madly to him and listening to the whisper-song of the frenzying Veela.

--

The next morning proved less embarrassing than Harry would've imagined. It seemed that he had dozed off at some point, because when he awoke, he was fully dressed. Draco was likewise attired and was sitting on the edge of the large cushion eating his stew. He nodded to Harry in recognition of his being awake.

"I... you were tied up..." said Harry, gesturing to the trees as he tried to shake the muzzy feeling away. The Coq au Vin smelled delicious. Even though it wasn't exactly a breakfast food, Harry was starving. It occurred to him this was the first time he'd woken up with Draco, which pleased him but also left him scrambling for what to say.

"Yes, well, wandless magic," said Draco. He waved his fork in the air uselessly to indicate magic and Harry noticed he hadn't spelled away the rope burn.

Adjusting his glasses, he noticed the bite marks on Draco's neck that were also still there. Perhaps he hadn't noticed it or would tend to them later. For now, Harry took joy in seeing them before grabbing his box of food from the hamper.

"You didn't use your magic last night," Harry pointed out after a couple of bites. It took him that long to think of it, yes, but in his defense, he was rather sleepy.

Draco cleared his throat and set his box down before charming it closed again and leaned across Harry to put it back in the hamper. "I was a little distracted."

Memories of the night and the distractions flooded Harry's brain, both bigger and smaller and he grinned at the thought. "Did you mean what you said last night? I mean... not about wanting to come... but about... me?"

Harry caught the flush of Draco's cheeks before Draco could get away and whirl around. "I've no memory of last night. No clue what you might think I'd've said. But I was not quite myself, obviously."

That contradicted what he'd just said about being distracted, plus the blush further damned Draco to lying, but Harry would let him have it for now. "Oh, well, I guess it doesn't matter. I was just going to say that I love it, too. But I guess it doesn't matter since you'd have no clue what I was on about. This is really good, Malfoy. You could be a chef."

Draco was quiet for a while, facing the field where the Veela had been. His finger traced over a bite mark on his neck slowly as he pondered whatever things that he would think about in such moments. "We should get back. You can keep the box if you enjoy it."

He turned around and caught Harry's glance, his eyes sharp and most definitely back to grey. There was a strange momentary sparkle to them, Harry thought, but it vanished quickly and Harry complied by putting his food away and helped break camp.

--

Though Harry was bone tired, Draco had the notion that putting their reports in now would be a better idea than sleeping and coming in later. It was so early that no one was around, which made for a quiet trudge down the hall after exiting the lift to head to the Auror offices.

Down the way, a door opened and an attractive Asian man stepped out of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office. Harry barely had time to recognize the man as the one he'd seen before on the street when Draco was playing at being a whore when he was jerked through a door into an empty office.

Draco pushed him further into the office and rallied behind the door. He enchanted the closed door transparent and watched the man walking past. It occurred to Harry that Draco might not have recognised him right off. It made sense since he'd presumably stayed up all night. He hoped Draco stayed up all night and that no Muggles ended up in the revel, anyway.

A moment later Percy Weasley, who had taken up the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office a few years after his father was promoted out of it, passed by, looking far too pleased with himself. Draco released the spell and Harry was suddenly very aware of how reliant the room had been on the outside light.

"Is that bad?" he asked, uncomfortable that he couldn't see Draco's face.

"I don't see how it could be good." The rustle and clunk indicated Draco was leaning against the door.

Harry felt out of his element. He had no idea what was going on or who that man was, but he did know that Percy had a taste for ambition. "Who is that guy?"

Draco sighed. He didn't sound impatient as much as just very, very tired. "He's a very bad man. That's all I'll say in these offices."

With a click, Harry heard the door open and the dull lamplight spread in as the door opened. The sliver of light that passed over Draco's face exposed a very worried expression. As much as Harry wanted to ask more about it, he understood what Draco was saying about speaking here. The Ministry itself had ears, and he wasn't even sure what office they'd landed in.

"All right. We'll talk about it later," said Harry as he followed Draco out of the office.

He was shutting the door when he felt Draco's hand on his shoulder. "Thanks."

"S'what partners do, right?"

The distant look on Draco's face confused him and he knew he must've said the wrong thing. "Quite. So, to those reports."

Draco turned on his heel and sped down to corridor before Harry could respond. Taking a deep breath, Harry followed.