Knives Out

[Title] Knives Out
[Pairing] Harry/Draco
[Rating] NC-17
[Warnings] Slash, public-ish sex
[Disclaimer] Characters belong to JK Rowling. No money is being made from this story.
[Genre] Angst/Drama
[Summary] Several years after the death of Voldemort, a depressed Harry Potter decides to rejoin the world of the living, only to run into his old nemesis Draco Malfoy in a Muggle gay club where things are not as they seem.
[Notes] I\'m holding my breath and closing my eyes and taking the plunge. If you tend to stay on top of my writing, this chapter is recognisable as being released in an earlier version, \"My Eyes Burn Naked.\" I said then that I had an idea to continue on it and that if \"Half Blood Prince\" didn\'t squash it, that I\'d continue.
[Beta] Emma Grant


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Harry hadn\'t spent much time in bars, let alone gay bars. Though he\'d known the truth about himself for years, this was one of the few times he\'d allowed himself this kind of outlet. It was dark but for the bright lights scanning the dance floor. The place was packed, but even amongst this crowd of people he felt isolated. He pointed at the beer taps to indicate to the bar man in the low-slung tight jeans what he wanted. He didn\'t care what brand, just something to take the edge off. He was halfway through something that tasted as if it had been dragged through the Thames when a vivacious redhead dotted with freckles bounded up to him, grabbing for his cock and smiling.

His stomach twisted at the appearance of the young man more than the invitation. \"No.\" Harry could barely even hear himself, or maybe he just didn\'t want to. The boy didn\'t speak, just shrugged and disappeared into the throng looking more disgruntled than disappointed. Harry continued to scan the swarm. It wasn\'t long before his gaze settled on a tantalizing vision.

The dancer\'s hips swayed to the music, lean muscles covered by stretched black fabric. He was in his own universe. Colored lights illuminated his silvery hair and pale, pointed face. A flash of lips and then a curtain of hair feathered over his face, shadowing his visage from view. The shadowy dancer intrigued him, if for no other reason than that he seemed to be dancing for him.

He was fey and stood out in his frailty amongst the twinks in the gay club. The man\'s coloration should have been Harry\'s first hint; he was too blinded by desire to care. His skin and hair radiated in the black light when the gaudy spotlights swirled away. He was ethereal, beautiful, and glowed in all of the ways that his long-sleeved shirt and clingy pants absorbed the light. No one dared to dance with him. They were not welcome. He was untouchable; swaying and shifting with his eyes closed, translucent lashes fluttering over skin illuminated blue-white.

Harry made his move, approaching slowly from the bar. His body undulated with the beat, the bass line so strong he felt it throbbing within his veins and into the hardness of his prick, as if it had become his pulse. He groaned as careless dancers pressed against him, thrilling him with the randomness of public frottage, the mutual muttering as other men groped him, feeling his hardness against their fingers, thighs and arses.

Harry slipped behind his mystery dancer, matching his strides. The man\'s head turned slightly as he sensed his closeness. Their movements slowed, became more controlled until Harry slid his arms around the thin waist. Grinding back against Harry, he pressed his pert arse against his length. Harry\'s whimper goaded the mystery man to let his head fall back against his shoulder. He turned his face against Harry\'s, still too close to properly see. He thrust against Harry again, teasing his cock.

Harry smirked and kept one arm up around the other man\'s chest. His other hand slid down the lean torso, teasing over the brief fabric to dip below the beltline. Finding the swell of the other man\'s cock, Harry teased his fingers over it. \"You\'re beautiful,\" Harry whispered against the pale pink ear.

The man answered in a distantly familiar drawl. \"I know.\"

Harry stopped dead, still gripping the other man\'s prick as his mind ran through a series of faces to match the voice. Almost as if he wanted to deny whom he knew that drawl belonged to.

In a neat turn, Draco Malfoy twirled around in Harry\'s arms and gazed at him through hazy grey eyes, one of which listed slightly outward. That was a defacement Harry didn\'t remember from school, and only vaguely from the war. Back then, Malfoy would keep that side of his face turned away from him when they spoke. It was a vanity he\'d since discarded. Under the bright blue light, Draco looked more feminine than he did masculine. The luminosity refined the sharpness of his features into something androgynous, or maybe Harry was just tipsy.

Harry stared down at Draco\'s visage, the few inches he had on him seemed a bigger gap than it was. A thousand thoughts cluttered his mind about where Draco had been since the war, and how he\'d ended up at a Muggle dance club. Why Draco was here and why wasn\'t he screaming about Harry touching him? Every thought shut down as Draco forced his hips forward, sliding his cock against Harry\'s. \"Merlin.\"

\"Here, they cry out for god,\" Draco said during a break in the music. His hands glided down to grip Harry\'s arse, and the music flared up again with a frantic tempo. He pulled his hips forward, controlling just how far Harry could move away before Draco ground harder against him.

\"Why are you here?\" Harry gasped into his ear, shuddering at the stimulation and the dirtiness of doing this here, in public, on the dance floor.

\"I\'m here to dance and to get fucked. Isn\'t that why everyone comes here?\" Draco slipped a hand between them and cupped Harry\'s erection. Groaning at the size of it, he slid his other hand into Harry\'s dark hair and tugged.

It wasn\'t what Harry was asking, but at this point, he didn\'t care what kind of answer Malfoy gave. Just so long as he kept touching him. He wasn\'t even alarmed as Malfoy began to drag him through the club, wading through the sea of bodies with his hand on Harry\'s cock like a short leash.

The arrogance, the haughty sneer-- Malfoy had not lost these simple graces. Not even war could rob him of it. People moved without being asked, as if they sensed the cold burn of Draco\'s glare before it reached them.

Under the harsh fluorescent blaze of the bathroom lights, Draco appeared feral with eyes darkened by want. In a heartbeat, Draco was on him, crashing them into a stall, kissing him brutally. Draco bit at his bottom lip as he clawed open Harry\'s trousers.

Barely able to keep up, Harry peeled the tight fabric down Draco\'s narrow hips. The hard smack of Draco\'s prick against his belly sent startling chills up his spine. Harry felt something cool and wet sliding over his length and looked down in surprise to see Draco unfurling a rubber down his shaft. Not that he was unfamiliar with this practice, but being that they were both wizards, Harry found it peculiar that Draco wouldn\'t use magic. He was about to write it off to paranoia about using magic in the presence of Muggles when Draco whispered, \"I\'m positive,\" and turned around, shuffling his pants down and drew a leg out of them. Draco pressed his cheek against the cold, red metal door and gripped his hands over the top.

Harry blinked. \"AIDS, Draco?\"

\"Shut up and fuck me, Potter. It\'s safe with that on.\" Draco\'s eyes lowered. Even with a death sentence over his head, naked and splayed against a dingy ochre stall door, he still carried a proud dignity that even a grimy bathroom fuck couldn\'t tarnish.

\"Right.\" Harry touched his latex-covered prick, it was lubricated enough. Adjusting himself against Draco\'s hole, he pushed in smoothly, pressing his chest to Draco\'s back.

Draco met his strokes with a vicious force, either to prove something or have it over with. His face flushed and his skin glistened as his fingers tried to dig into the metal.

The bathroom was an orgy of long sniffs, low grunts, moans, running taps, and murmured conversations. It was alive with the scents of sex, coppery come, the tang of urine and antiseptic soap. Harry contributed his loud gasping and Draco his wailing cries as their bodies clapped together. Releasing a hand from the cubicle, Draco wrapped it around his cock. He hung loosely by his fingers from the door, the crown of his head pressed against it as he labored against Harry.

Being inside of Draco felt constrictive, which was surprising considering the man dragged people from the dance floor into the bathroom for sex. The way Draco matched his thrusts and bore down around him made Harry\'s vision tunnel as he tried to hold on. At last, he heard Draco gasp and felt him seize up. Harry stopped concentrating and just let go, giving an enunciated thrust of his release. He pumped into him a few more times, finishing himself off. Harry\'s attention fixed on how Draco\'s spandex shirt that had rolled midway up his back. He slid his fingers affectionately along the exposed spine. \"How long?\"

\"It was a good five minutes.\" Draco grabbed some tissue to wipe his leavings from the door and threw them into the toilet as he righted himself. He put his hand on Harry\'s chest to push him away, but paused, staring at the spot on Harry\'s forehead where the scar once lived.

Harry ignored the pointed gaze and pulled off the rubber and tossed it on top of the soiled toilet paper. \"I meant, how long have you been positive?\"

Draco shrugged. \"A few years. Snape\'s working on a potion...\"

Snape. A person he hadn\'t wanted to think about since the war ended. He pushed the greasy git out of his mind and reached out to pull Draco closer, hoping to comfort him. \"I\'m sorry.\"

Draco batted his hands away and instead bent down to gather up his trousers. He struggled to get the taut plackets to come together over his emaciated frame.

\"Is that why you disappeared?\" asked Harry.

\"I disappeared because the war was over and I had no reason to endure yours or anyone else\'s loathsome existence any longer.\" Draco finished his struggle and buttoned his trousers and tucked his shirt back in. \"I spent the whole war worried I was going to die and never even came that close. Nothing more severe than enduring the Cruciatus, and... well... Greyback,\" he said as he stroked his finger near his damaged eye. Harry imagined that must\'ve been part of the punishment from Voldemort for not killing Dumbledore himself. \"Ironic, isn\'t it?\"

The mutilation didn\'t ruin Draco\'s face, in Harry\'s opinion. Still, he was surprised it didn\'t make Draco shy away from being in public. That\'s what made Draco striking, Harry decided. Draco\'s good looks were no longer a blessing of genes; his beauty was defiant. \"You could come back, you know.\"

Draco snorted and leaned against the cubicle wall. Loud grunts emanated from the stall next to them, an echo of what they\'d just done.

\"They\'ll find a cure.\" Harry was desperate for Draco to come back with him to the Wizarding world, or at least to his flat to talk more about this. He reached out to caress Draco\'s cheek.

Draco leaned into Harry\'s touches briefly. Then he stepped back. \"Disappearing was the smartest thing I ever did.\" He gave Harry a wry grin, and then leaving nothing but the memory of his smile like the enigmatic Cheshire cat, he vanished with a loud crack.

Harry reached out and stroked the air where he\'d stood, pondering Draco\'s parting words. He was a bit annoyed with the use of magic in a conspicuously Muggle place, however it didn\'t seem like anyone was counting who came and went from a stall. Everyone had their own agenda of getting off on coke or sex. No one cared that Draco had vanished into thin air. No one would look for him or miss him.

The idea that no one would miss Draco stuck at Harry. Gone were the glory days of Seeker against Seeker, hero against spoilt nemesis. Now it was just a lost playboy and a retired Auror whom few would miss. Harry closed his eyes, trying to figure out where these thoughts were leading. Should he go after him? But where would he go? How would he find him? Draco\'s Apparition was too sudden to have used his Auror tricks to follow.

At the moment he had no leads, no hope and nothing but a possibly afterglow-loneliness-inspired yen to find Draco and ask him all of the questions he didn\'t get to. It was impractical to chase down someone who didn\'t want to be found.

Trying to be sensible, he drove the idea out of his mind and flushed the toilet. He watched the rubber and tissue swirl and vanish thinking about how so many things in his life just spiraled away. He\'d had enough excitement for tonight, so he drifted back out of the club alone. Near the door, he thought he spied a flash of platinum hair. His heart raced and he started towards the exit, perhaps Draco had just Apparated outside. The woman turned and smiled shyly at Harry before he reached the gathering of young ladies who were all giggling and looking nervous. He halfheartedly returned the smile and then turned sharply to find an alleyway to use to Apparate home from.

He was not going to look for Draco. Definitely not.