Please Don't Ask Me

Harry sighs and nods his head at something Ginny has been saying, but he hasn't heard a word. From the tone of her voice though, it is something derogatory about someone. He doesn't care, he's heard it all before and she expects nothing but an occasional grunt or nod of the head to signify that he's been listening. He wonders sometimes if he suddenly opened his mouth and said that he wanted a divorce whether she would even register what he'd said.

But, he doesn't. There's that whole side of their relationship that he just won't touch because it's out of the question. He will not leave his children, no matter what. Ginny is a good mother, the Weasley's a great extended family and his life was good. It was. If there was something missing, then he'd just had to learn to live with it. There'd been something missing all his life; it was nothing new.

They arrive at the restaurant, Harry not really noticing the décor, just helping Ginny up the stairs and inside. He helps her remove her coat, but his thoughts are on Draco and his eyes search the room for him. It's probably not a good idea, but knowing that, and being able to stop himself from doing it are two different things. He removes his own coat, holding it as he tries to find Draco.

Ginny has moved into the restaurant proper, having spotted Ron and Hermione and a number of the others that inhabit their social lives, but Harry stays where he is for a moment, still looking for the blond head. He tells himself that he doesn't like the crowds and he's preparing himself for the press of flesh against him when he joins them; the handshakes and grins and smiles and pats on the back, shoulder, arm, arse...anywhere they could reach. There must be two hundred people here tonight, and so he feels quite justified in this thought, but really, he needs to see where Draco is, in order to prepare his face and emotions to hide them deep.

Harry Potter finds that he cannot control his racing pulse when Draco Malfoy is near him. At least not without some warning anyway, and even then Draco can completely undo him with a look.

He should have known better, because within a minute of Ginny leaving his side, he feels a presence behind him and familiar hands at his waist. The hairs on the back of his neck stand up and dance to the flow of warm air that whispers across them.

"About time you turned up, Potter. We were beginning to think you had been called away to the Hospital." Draco emphasises the 'h' in hospital and a gust of hot breath makes Harry shiver and bite his lip. Not tonight, he tells himself, please, not tonight. He forces a smile onto his face - a smile that says, 'happy to see you, friend' and turns to face Draco.

Draco hasn't changed much since school. He's matured of course, but there is still that ageless beauty about him that will mean that he will reach his later years looking a much younger man. Harry is envious of that, and completely taken in by the way he looks this evening. Preparation or not, Harry cannot keep the appreciative glint from his eyes, and because they are relatively alone, he allows himself to feast on it. Selfishly. Just for a moment.

He watches as Draco's lip curls up at the corner, heading for a smirk, but one that never reaches the same expression of smug righteousness that it exuded back in their school days. For that Harry is grateful, but as he is drawn to those lips he shakes himself and gives a broad smile.

"No, thank God," Harry replies. "Happy Birthday!" He is pulled into a quick hug that surprises him for a moment until he realises that it is quite appropriate for friends to hug, and this is not a hug of lovers, but a hug of friends.

That is until Draco buries his face in Harry's neck for a moment and he can hear the exhalation of a shaky, breathy, "I miss you," that makes all the hairs on his body stand up.

"I know," Harry says just as quietly, and hangs onto him for just a moment longer before releasing him, leaving them standing there, Harry's arms still holding Draco's elbows and Draco's hands resting on Harry's hips.

He looks into Draco's eyes and the smile in them is gone, and replaced by a hurt longing, deep and heartrending and Harry is hard pressed to not say what Draco needs to hear, just to bring the light back into them. But then, slowly the smile returns and the mask falls once more, highlighted by a level of understanding that only makes Harry love him more.

The same one he has seen every time they meet, or touch...

~~~

Two years ago...

Ginny had been in the hospital, having had the twins three days before and was still relishing the rest, away from everyone. Harry had spent his time with little Rosie, thoroughly enjoying her and spoiling her rotten. He had almost decided not to attend Draco's birthday party this year. After last year, he was wary and wondered if it would make things awkward between them if either of them had too much to drink again.

Of course they had seen each other many times since then and had talked about the kiss and put it down to too much alcohol and even laughed about it.

But there had been an underlying darkness about Draco's eyes and an answering hollow feeling in Harry's gut. There had been more to that kiss than either of them was prepared to admit to the other, because, what was the point after all?

Harry had spent the whole evening quietly chatting with friends, congratulating yet another couple on their engagement and thinking that all of his friends were getting married now. He was drinking and generally enjoying himself, but he found himself watching Draco more than he should and the smouldering looks that he received in turn were doing nothing for his resolve. For a moment he wondered why everyone in the room wasn't burning from the looks they were exchanging...or why no one had bothered to notice.

As the evening wore on, Harry found himself with an uncomfortable hard on that no amount of shifting in his chair to try and ease the friction, worked. His drinking had become worse, but conversely is head was as clear as if he were sober, though he knew he wasn't. Then Draco had sugared his end of evening coffee and licked the spoon and it was all Harry could do to stop from coming in his pants. He dare not move, lest the whole room see how affected he was and deep behind the drunken façade, he knew it was wrong, he had children and a wife who had just given birth to twins, he wasn't supposed to be harder than he had ever been in his life over someone else, let alone a man, let alone a Malfoy!

So, he sat where he was, miserable and hard and aching for relief. And he waited for the guests to leave, at least then he could make a dash for the men's room without making a fool of himself. As soon as he was relatively alone and the rest of the guests' attention diverted elsewhere, he stood hurriedly and almost ran to the toilets, throwing himself into a cubicle and closing the door.

His pants were dropped and his aching erection freed in record time and when he closed his fist around his hard length, he groaned and closed his eyes in utter relief. Faster, faster, he told himself, fist speeding up, rubbing over the head as he pulled and he imagined Draco's hands being the ones giving him such pleasure.

So engrossed in his imagination was he, that he failed to hear the door to the toilet opening and then the one to the cubicle. His eyes jerked open when he felt another hand join his, stroking him. Draco was there, his face flushed and he was biting his bottom lip, looking into Harry's eyes.

"You ran in here so fast, I thought you might be ill," he said, his breath seeming to speak for him, as their hands slowed to a stop.

"Draco...?" Harry managed to gasp out before he groaned at the sight of Draco dropping to his knees before him. God, but he was beautiful, he thought and he should stop this, it wasn't right, but it felt so right.

"Harry," Draco whimpered as Harry arched into the hand, and felt like he could come from just the sight of Draco looking up at him with such intense need. "Please...?" he begged. "I want this so much. I've wanted you so much for so long. We can go back to being just friends tomorrow, but tonight, just for tonight...?"

Draco's hand was hot on his erection and Harry really had no defense against him, he realised now. For some reason, Harry wanted him more than he'd ever wanted anyone before. He removed his hand and leant back against the wall, giving Draco a short nod, too charged by arousal to trust himself to speak lest he confess everything.

It was wrong and he knew it, but he seemed incapable of stopping. Things had gone too far now. They were never going to be the same again. He might well be ruining everything he had worked for, but how could he say no when the object of his desire was on his knees in front of him, begging?

Draco uttered a crying sob and latched his mouth around Harry hungrily. Harry's hands flattened back onto the wall as if they were any support in holding him up and his quiet moan of "Yes..." was almost lost in the sucking noises that Draco was making.

Nothing Ginny had ever done to him had even come close to the sensations he was feeling right now. It was hot and wet and his aching length slid perfectly into and out of Draco's eager mouth. Questions of right and wrong vanished as pure, raw need strode around his body and took hold of every one of his senses.

Draco's tongue was flat, sliding, slippery yet hard along him and Harry's hand moved of it's own accord to rest on Draco's head, fingers twisting spasmodically in his hair. He made the mistake of looking down, watching as he disappeared into that sucking warmth and his knees began to shake.

He vaguely registered that Draco's hands had moved from his hips and were frantically undoing himself and stroking himself in time with the sucking motions, but really all he could do was concentrate on the amazing things the blond was doing with his tongue and his mouth.

Breath escaped him totally when Draco looked up, caught his eyes and held them, the exchange of emotions from one to the other knocked him completely and his chest was heaving like he was having trouble breathing and he knew that he was about to come.

He gave a small whimper, unable to speak and tugged on Draco's hair. Draco stood and again took his erection in his hand, and Harry's hand dropped into Draco's half undone trousers to grip and stroke the hard, damp flesh he found there.

They stood there; foreheads pressed together, eyes locked, breathing each other's air and knew that this was not a random wank. There was something deeper, fundamentally different about this.

With soft gasps and clenching muscles, they both came almost simultaneously, all hitched breaths and jerky movements until they were both spent and Draco leant against Harry burying his face into Harry's neck.

Harry stood there for a moment to catch his breath and as he did so, some reasoning came back to him and he gently moved Draco off him, and looked at him.

"I'm sorry..."

Draco just looked at him, understanding, but hurt nevertheless. "It's ok," he said. "Just friends, right?"

Harry shook his head, 'No,' but whispered, "Yes," before dressing himself and leaving.