King of Anything

A/N : I do not own any HP lingo, character, places or idea. Also I do not own the song or lyrics to King of Anything. They belong to Sara Bareilles. Here's the link to the music video for this song. It's pretty sweet. Hope you enjoy!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eR7-AUmiNcA&feature=avmsc2

King of Anything


Draco sat in a burgundy high backed chair with his head against the window, as Colin spoke in that awful managerial tone he used when he thought Draco was going to screw up.
“I know you have some opinions and everyone is entitled to feel the way they do but I need you to keep your mouth shut tonight. Just dance, no talking. This party has some very important people that we can’t afford to anger.” He sighed, his whole body heaving toward the cherry wood desk he sat behind. “Hell, I wouldn’t even have you out there if you weren’t the best dancer we have.”
Draco stopped counting cars to turn his head towards Colin. The man was quite nice when they weren’t at work. He was hefty to be sure. His whole body seemed to be covered with a thick layer of fat that reminded Draco of a walrus. Though his scruffy brown beard and abnormally large canines didn’t help much either. His cheeks held a slight pink tinge showing his frustration but his brown eyes were kind and had only ever judged Draco on his beauty.
For that Draco would be eternally grateful. Beauty was the one thing he hadn’t lost in the war. His whole life had been torn out from under him with the ferocity usually reserved only for those who not only killed but enjoyed killing. In the aftermath of the war his father had been given the kiss, resulting in his mother loosing her already fragile mind. Her permanent room in St. Mungos was something he never thought of, let alone visited. He had been cast out on the streets with no where to go and no money to go there with. Colin had found him trying to sell himself in the back alleys of London’s docks. Draco still remember pulling him from his corner mumbling about how he was the worst attractive prostitute ever. To Draco’s defense, it wasn’t his fault that all the men that had approached him had been complete slags.
Now, he danced in Colin’s club. In the low light and pumping music, Draco’s beauty radiated. His features had grown in and softened his nose and jaw some what, leaving him with handsomely masculine features. His body was flawless thanks to the gym membership Colin provided all of his dancers, and a better than average metabolism. But the way he moved was indescribable. It was like every note of every song was sewn into his skin, pulling his body and flowing through him in a way that kept him earning thousands each night, even when he danced only once.
Draco gave Colin a small smile before looking down at his tea. Milk and four lumps of sugar. It was syrupy sweet, just the way he liked it.
“Colin, I would never do anything to jeopardize what we have here.” His eyes started to fill with tears before he blinked them away. Looking back up, he forced a large bitter sweet smile. “It’s all I have.”
Colin’s face softened for a moment and he got up and gently put his large hand on Draco’s lithe shoulder. “I know.”

~
“I can’t believe you took me to a fucking strip club!” Harry said glaring at his best friend. Ron looked like a kid in a candy shop, his eyes wide and his hands grasping 300 galleons worth of ones. He turned to look at Harry with a large lopsided grin gracing his freckled face.
“C’mon ‘Arry, we aren’t gonna be able to do this kind of thing once your minister. I mean can you imagine the tabloids? The boy who lived to love strippers.” Ron was right, Harry thought. After tomorrow night he would take the job as Minister of Magic and this part of his life would be over. “Besides I heard from Dean this is the best place in the whole country. And you know he’s been to all of them.”
Dean Thomas. Harry tried to hide his annoyance at Ron’s bringing up him again. Ever since Harry had quit the Auror department and forced Ron to get a different partner, it had been “Dean did this...” or “Dean said the funniest thing today...”. He felt so out of the loop. He knew he had quit to do his own thing but he didn’t expect Ron to basically replace him with whoever he was assigned to. In his heart he knew Ron was a loyal friend but all this Dean hero worship was really starting to try on Harry’s nerves.
“C’mon lets go join the group, Mr. Minister!” Ron shouted over the music as he led Harry through the crowd to a large table at the base of the stage.
“Group?” Harry shouted back only to be drowned out by Dean’s ear piercing “OY!” God does no one else find that unbearable? The table was surrounded by all of his friends, Hermione, Luna, Seamus, Neville, Remus, Tonks, Fred, George and of course Dean. Harry scowled as Dean patted him on the back. He watched as Dean and Ron moved together in what he assumed was a “secret” hand shake. We never had a secret hand shake.
“Right good job winning the election, ‘Arry!” Neville said from his leather seat. The stripper on the stage was blowing on Neville’s ear in what Harry assumed was a very seductive way if the uncomfortable blushing look Neville had was any indication. Hermione got up and pulled Harry into a close hug.
“I’m sorry, I told him not to invite him.” She whispered in his ear before pulling away with a knowing smile. “Come one. Shots!” She exclaimed turning her top half around to bask in the cheers that statement rendered.
Twelve shots later, Ron was up on the stage badgering the poor stripper to show him how to spin on the pole, Dean’s idea of course. Harry sat next to Luna as she asked him about what he was going to do about the nargle problem in Whales. Just as Harry was about to excuse himself to the loo, a voice came on the loud speaker.
“That was Roxy and Ron! Give ‘em a hand folks and don’t forget to fill in those seats at the edge of the stage! Before our next dancer comes on I would like to thank our Man of Honor tonight for all he has done for the wizarding world by giving him a private dance with our best dancer! Mr. Harry Potter, Congratulations and please head to the Dragons Den!”
Harry put his had to his face trying to hide the blush he knew was rising on his cheeks. “Go!” Hermione mouthed and pushed him up and towards the red door behind him. The door was large and as Harry pulled the door knob the magical tingle of silencing spells made their way through his skin.
He closed the door as gently as one could close such a heavy door and looked around the room. It was black and empty save for a single chair bolted to the ground. A blue spotlight lit the chair and Harry quietly sat, just as the room went dark.
He heard someone slip into the room and the small sharp intake of breath of surprise the dancer let out.
“Uh hullo.” Harry answered. He could hear the breathing so he knew they hadn’t left. He wrung his hands together as he tried to figure out what to say. “I figure you must be able to see me. I know this is kind of awkward and I don’t want you to think you have to dance for me or anything, I can just go back out to my friends and-”
“No! I mean...” A sigh. The voice was male. Not that he expected anything different, Harry had come out to his friends years ago. Though the fact that Ron or whoever had set this up, had told the manager he way gay was slightly disconcerting. “I just didn’t know I’d be dancing for the golden boy.”
“Golden boy? Wow no one has called me that in yee-!” He yelped as the dancer ran his hands over his legs. The man parted his legs and slid his body up and through them swaying his hips as he rose. Harry could resist moving his hands along the smooth expanse of thighs and hips before him. The man before him was twisting and turning, gyrating and swaying with such smooth grace and fluidity that Harry wished for light more and more with each mimicked thrust. His erection was starting to ache as it pressed against his pants. The man spun around so his back was facing Harry before bending backward and slowly rolling his body against Harry’s. One vertebrae at a time closer and closer and closer until the mans firm uncovered ass rest against Harry’s erect cock. Slowly the ground together, both of their breaths catching at each roll of the dancer’s hips. The man lolled his head back on Harry’s shoulder as he arched his back. Harry nuzzled the mans neck drawing a low moan from his lips. Smiling, Harry gently nipped and sucked at the man’s neck while slipping his right hand down the inner thigh of the man. Inching his hand up towards the dancers most intimate part, Harry relished the small gasps and whimpers of pleasure that fell of his lips.
“Please.” Came the strangled plea. Harry grinned as he took ahold of the cock in front of him. Stroking up and down, he ate up the sounds of skin of skin. He let out a loud groan of his own as the dancer fiercely ground down on him. Their movements quickened as they climbed closer and closer to their peak.
Back and forth the dancers hips swung and Harry couldn’t help but wonder what this magical man was like in bed, if he was this good through clothes. With a roll of his talented hips, Harry let out a final grunt and despite the room being black, saw white as he came. His hand still worked furiously on the cock in front of him and the man cried and begged for release.
“Ah, Harry. Oh god. Uhh.” And with a final groan of his own the dance came, shooting his spunk all over the floor in front of them.
Detaching his lips from the hickey he was sure he had left, Harry moaned, “Let me see you.” The body on him tensed.
“Are you sure thats what you want?” The voice was breathy and suddenly familiar. Who was this? Harry wished he had the sense to ask a name before fondling this man to this sexual peak.
“More than I have ever been about anything.” All right that was a slight exaggeration but really one could not be held accountable for what was said in the after glow of sex.
Slowly the lights lifted and the man got up to reveal unmistakeable blonde hair and silver eyes.
“Uh.”

“Oh.”

~

Draco stood in front of Harry, suddenly self conscious of his body. He tried to pull his hand in front of his dick with out it seeming so pathetic. Oh yeah you can jerk it but heaven forbid you see it. Draco scoffed to himself.
“Malfoy!” Harry’s emerald eyes were greener than he remembered them and the pictures in the paper did him absolutely no justice. His skin was tan and clear with the post coital flush that mocked Draco without even meaning to. “Your a stripper?!”
“Well there weren’t exactly any jobs available to the family of known Death Eaters after the war, Potter.” His voice had changed, gone was the sweet whine of lust and back was the bitterness Harry had so hated as a teen.
“But you’re you!” Harry was truly baffled to be staring at the same remarkable that had raised his feelings of lust to whole new level. Sure Malfoy was looked down on in most Wizarding circles but surely he didn’t have to resort to stripping for a living.
“Always clever, Potter. Good to know that things haven’t changed.”
“What do you mean they haven’t changed? I just jerked you off, for god sakes I still have your cum on my hand!” Harry sighed as he felt the clean wash of a scourgify. “You know that’s not what I meant.”
“Look Potter. I realize that it must be some sort of Gryffindor thing to think that jerking someone off is special but to logical people it is not.” In reality, it was special. Draco was a dancer not a whore, no matter how hard he tried in his youth and this kind of treatment was not something he usually gave. But from the moment he had seen Harry through the dark, all of his old wishes and fantasies had come rushing back. “So let me thank you for your time, and try not to waste anymore of mine...”
“Draco!” Draco stopped cold at the sound of his given name. “Look, I know it doesn’t matter to you but it does to me. I haven’t really done that with anyone else, too busy and all.”
“Spare me your pathetic sex life Potter.”
“What I’m trying to say is that if you would be willing I would like to take you out. Help you get back on your feet and out of this place. I want to get to know you, Draco, if your willing to give this up. ” Draco let go of the door knob out of the room and sighed. Slowly he turned around to face Harry. His lips were still red and plump from kissing Draco’s neck but his eyes and stance, elbows on knees, leaning forward was all business man making an offer.
“I hate to break it to you babe, but I’m not drowning or in a fire engulfed room or being brain washed by a homicidal maniac. There’s no one here to save.”
“I disagree.” Harry said raising his eyebrows in a way that reminded of the way Lucius talked to ministry officials. He’s gonna make a damn good minister, Draco thought distractedly.
“Who cares if you disagree? You are not me. Or anyone close to me for that matter.” Anger was boiling in Draco’s body. Who was he to tell him how to live his life? No one thats who.
“Draco,” He shuddered at the sound of his name falling from those full lips. He shook his head trying to regain focus. “you don’t want to be here. Trust me. I know best. I can take care of you. For as long as I remember you were the only person who could always pull an emotion from me.”
“Yeah, anger, hatred, disgust.”
Harry laughed softly. The sound was like chocolate, smooth and dark. “Yes. But also drive, need and I won’t lie sometimes I would walk away from our scuffles feeling very confused about the hard on I was sporting. I think, if we keep at this, we could be really good together.”
It was Draco’s turn to laugh but his was hollow and sad. His throat was constricted with anger and another emotion he didn’t want to identify. “Potter, you sound so innocent, all full of good intent but you expect me to jump up on board with you and ride off into your delusional sunset. Did it not occur to you that I might like it here? That I might have friends?”
Harry laughed again. When he spoke it was in the tone one uses when talking to a small confused child. “Draco, no one could be happy here.”
“Oh really? Who said that? Who decided that?”
“I did.” His voice was still calm and it angered Draco even more that he was the one loosing his cool.
“Well who made you king of anything? Who gave you the right to judge me?” He was shouting now and he knew his face must be red with the effort to not completely loose it.
“I’m the Minister.”
“Oh dear god I forgot. Let me kiss your fucking feet. In fact let me just bend over and let you take me right here. How could I have ever doubted the great Minister of Magic. They’ve been never been wrong before!” His voice was dripping with fire and bitterness. “You are not the king of anything, Potter and you are certainly not the king of me.” Draco yanked the door open and stalked out into the lobby where Harry’s friends were waiting.
“Malfoy?” A very drunk looking Weasley slurred. “Wha ya doin ‘ere? Where’s ‘Arry?
Taking a deep breath, Draco rounded on them and spoke in a deadly soft tone. “You can tell Potter that my actions tonight to not in anyway reflect this establishment and that I am leaving the club’s employment and that he should not look for me.” The group looked mortified as Malfoy looked over each one to see that the understood. Hermione was the only one to speak.
“Of course, Malfoy.”
“Good. Now get out.” And with that Draco left the lobby as quickly as possible to avoid Harry as he lumbered out the Dragon’s Den.
~
“I wish you wouldn’t leave, Dray.” Colin’s gruff voice said as he hugged the much smaller man. “You better take care of yourself.”
“Of course, I will Colin. Keep in touch, alright?” Draco smiled warmly at the man and made for the door. Leaving was not an easy decision but he couldn’t take the chance that Potter would keep coming back to find him. Maybe if I just disappear for a while he will forget about me, finally give up and leave me alone.
“Oh wait, Draco, I have a letter for you.” Colin handed him a small roll of parchment and smiled widely. Draco opened the letter and read the scribbled print.
Draco.
I’ll let you hold my crown.
-Your King HP

~
Not sure I want to continue. If anyone wants to take it up feel free! Love!