Advantageous Alternations
Am going to post my hp_getlucky-fic here as well...
Fuck! The alarm hadn’t gone off as it should, causing Draco to wake up half an hour after he was supposed to be at work. In an instant he is out of his bed and scurrying to the bathroom. Because of his stressed state and frantic movement, he knocks down and drops pretty much every bottle, tube and box that’s placed in there. Of course, this doesn’t help at all. On the contrary, it makes everything take even longer. Even worse is the fact that his hair apparently has decided to do its worst today, standing out in weird places and refusing to comply to Draco’s attempts to make it look somewhat representable. After all, when working as a model for Marcus Flint, one has to look good. Yet, that seems impossible to achieve today since nothing is looking good on Draco. Besides his unruly hair, he looks tired with a too pale face and circles under his eyes. Around his grey irises stretch red lines, revealing that he’d been crying in his sleep again because of his nightmares. Draco looked horrible to say the least, and how bad was that when his entire life is dependant on him looking good at all times?
Yet, with nothing else to do, Draco hurries to get on his grey suit that he usually wears to work. Then he hurries out of the door to head to the nearby placed apparition point. The very moment he arrives in the lounge of the photo hall, Flint is all over him, scolding. Evidently, he hasn’t had the best day either, and his mood is entirely based upon the major fight he had with Oliver Wood earlier that morning. Something about Wood being jealous of some guy that worked with Flint from time to time. So because of this, Draco chooses to not take all the man’s harsh words to heart, since some of them probably aren’t meant for Draco anyway, but he also knows that most of them are rightfully earned, due to Draco’s lateness and poor appearance. Instead of listening to what his boss is shouting about though, he looks around to try catch a sight of Pansy, Lavender or Blaise. He is in a great need of their help if he is to look decent for today’s shoots.
His eyes do not find any of his friends, but instead, they fall upon the latest issue of Seekers Weekly lying on top of a table not far away from him. The front page is decorated by the dark-skinned wizard with green eyes that Draco’s managed to get a certain liking for. Potter had joined the Falmouth Falcons shortly after the war, and with them winning several Quidditch Titles and him being a celebrity on his own, the man often takes part in interviews and shoots for several magazines. It was during those photo sessions that Draco and Harry occasionally met, and thanks to that, they are now friendly acquaintances of sorts. Since old habits die hard, Draco hasn’t managed to get rid of his tendency to keep track of Harry’s appearances in the media, and today evidently isn’t any better. There are admittedly details in every photograph of Harry that assure Draco that the other man isn’t as happy as he appears in media. Like in Draco’s own photos, there’s something missing. Something’s missing in his eyes.
Being all occupied with watching the photo of Potter, Draco misses how Blaise enters the room and shouts at him. It isn’t until the third call that Draco reacts and by then Blaise’s patience has gone to practically zero.
“Oy, stupid, do you even care about us at all? You’re late, show up in clothes that are dirty with dishevelled hair and then don’t even pay attention to us? If that’s how you’re gonna work, you could apply for new stylists right away cause we do not work with blokes like that.” With Blaise’s words Draco looks down and instantly sees that his suit is smeared with jam on the left pocket. Great.
“I’m sorry, Blaise. I overslept and nothing I had at home worked with my hair so—”
“I don’t want to hear your apologies nor do I have the time to. We’ve got lots of work to do, so could you just hurry up?!”
Splendid; both Draco’s boss and his friend and stylist are mad with him on top of his rough morning. At least things would start getting better from noon, right?
Turns out Draco is quite wrong about that. None of the products or spells that Blaise or Lavender try out gets his hair to look perfect, or even good, though it at least makes it look a little bit better. When Pansy arrives to do the make-up the dressers and the clothes still haven’t arrived so they improvise, but then they have to do it all over again because the make-up doesn’t go with the clothes. Or at least that’s what Parvati Patil says. As a result, the new make-up is rushed and poor and yet the actual shoot starts late. Everyone is in a sour mood and for some reason all of them blame it on Draco. In the afternoon they at last call the whole thing to an end. The photos won’t be getting any better anyway, so why bother? By then Draco is completely exhausted (partly because of the poor night’s sleep he had and partly because of the work) and very much ready to leave the building. But in the entrance hall he gets stopped by Flint who apparently has something else in mind for the next few minutes.
“Draco, I’d like a word with you, if that’s alright.”
Draco just huffs in response.
“Right, so you know I think you’re a bloody good looking model and you sure have gotten a lot of extremely good photos. But I’ve gotta say, if you can’t get yourself under control I’ve got to drop you. You’ve got until tomorrow to fix this up, but if you aren’t good by then it’s all over, understand?”
Without waiting for an answer, he leaves the room with Draco just standing there, feeling lost.
He needs to escape. That’s why Draco decides to visit the muggle part of London. After simply walking around the streets for a while he finds a cute little fused café/bar which he enters. The moment he opens the door the smell of coffee, tea, honey and muffins reaches his nose and he sighs happily. Feeling a lot more at ease already, he approaches the counter to order a salted caramel latte and a piece of rhubarb pie. The man on the other side smiles softly at Draco as they make a bit of small talk while he prepares the coffee. He has dark brown eyes, almost as dark as Potter’s hair and light brown hair that reminds Draco of Potter’s tone of skin. His broad shoulders tell Draco that he’s working out regularly, though he’s doing more body building than fitness exercises, since he hasn’t gotten lean muscles like a seeker in Quidditch. Furrowing his eyebrows, Draco bitterly realizes he’s comparing this man to Harry. Why can’t he just stop thinking about the former Gryffindor?!
Absorbed in his exasperating thoughts, Draco isn’t very careful when he’s retrieved his coffee and turns around… right into Harry Potter! In a blink of an eye, Potter’s all soaked and reality crashes upon Draco.
“I- I’m so sorry, Potter I didn’t mean to.”
“No, no—”
“It’s just my bloody luck running into you like this… everyone else’s already mad with me, so of course I also have to anger you as well.” Draco mutters while studiously refusing to meet Potter’s eye.
“Wait, Dra- Malfoy, I’m not mad with you. It was just an accident and it was my own fault that I was standing so closely.”
“But your shirt…”
“I have another one in my bag.” The man lifts his left arm to show that he’s holding a grey bag Draco’s sure he wasn’t carrying a moment ago. The sneaky bastard must’ve done such smooth wandless magic that the muggles couldn’t notice him doing it! “And by the looks of it, you need one as well,” Potter continues and nods towards Draco’s now discoloured pocket. “Lucky I’ve brought two shirts then.” Then the bloody beautiful bastard winks. Draco is so doomed.
“Uhm, thanks…” Without warning, Potter grabs a hold of Draco’s arm and drags him to the bathroom.
As it turns out, the other man hasn’t gotten any shirts in the bag of his. Instead he takes out his wand and quickly transforms Draco’s suit into a clean, cozy, blue sweater and his own black-and-white striped button down into a green jumper.
“Oy, that was my best work suit,” Draco complains, even though he doesn’t mind the sweater’s soft fabric at all.
“Don’t worry, princess, the transformation will only last for about ten hours, then you’ll have your suit back as it was ten seconds ago.”
“Oh, that’s… actually quite clever…”
“Yeah, this is how we get ready for press conferences after Quidditch games, cause we usually don’t have time to shower until we get home.”
“That’s just disgusting.”
A laugh escapes Potter’s lips and the sound makes Draco’s body shiver.
“Would you mind taking a drink with me?” Potter asks when they make their way out of the bathroom. “I’ll pay of course, since it kind of was my fault your coffee got wasted.”
“Uhm…” What is it with Draco all of a sudden? Just because his luck is starting to change for the better doesn’t mean he has to become all speechless.
Fortunately, Potter seems to take Draco’s loss of actual words as a yes, since he turns to the counter and orders two caramel lattes.
While drinking their lattes, they settle into an easy conversation that grants them the opportunity to really get to know one another better. As time moves on, so does the subject and they order a glass of red wine each as they get more invested in talking about their work and thereby their photos in wizarding media. Despite the very small amount of alcohol they’ve consumed, and the great risk of doing so, Draco finds himself revealing that he’d been watching Harry’s every photo and article in the magazines. In response, Harry tells him that he as well has been keeping track of Draco as well, and from the look in his eyes get when he says these words, Draco little by little starts to hope that maybe his attraction and interest to the bastard sitting opposite of him are being returned. This gets proven as both wizards become more and more careless with what they reveal and it doesn’t take long until they’re practically confessing every wet dream they’ve had about the other. By then, they’ve also finished their drinks and they start making their way out of the café/bar and back to wizarding London to get to Draco’s apartment. They’ve barely gotten halfway through the door of the building before Harry chastely kisses Draco and it takes only Draco kissing in response before they’re all devouring each other and it’s so hot and so disorientating that it takes more than triple the time than usual to get home. At last though they arrive at the apartment and suddenly everything crashes upon Draco. And holy Merlin, his dream is coming true—he’s being snogged by Harry Potter!
“Harry…” he whispers, voice hoarse and almost inaudible. “So long… please… please!”
Harry grunts in response, tracing his hands over Draco’s body while Draco leads them to his bedroom. The moment they’re in the room, Harry grabs a hold on Draco, lifting him off the ground without parting their lips. Immediately, Draco wraps his legs around Harry’s hips and he lets himself be carried to the bed. He feels Harry’s hands through his sweater just like he can feel Harry’s body underneath the jumper, and they’re closer than they’ve ever been before. Yet it’s not enough. With both of them thinking the same, it doesn’t take long until they’re both naked, but that’s when everything slows down. Everything becomes real to them and they pause to watch each other, devour the moment. To no surprise, Harry’s fit, just like any Quidditch Seeker, but he’s also a lot hotter than most thanks to his tanned skin and leaking cock. But it’s not the cut-out abs nor his perfect prick that captures Draco’s eyes. It’s Harry’s eyes. Those blazing green eyes are watching Draco in such an intense approving way that Draco’s not sure how he remembers how to breath. Maybe he doesn’t breathe at all?
When Harry’s hands return to touch Draco, the pace is slower. He caresses Draco’s back, Draco’s shoulders, Draco’s stomach. They trail down Draco’s sides to his thighs. There he takes a firm grip and helps Draco to widen his legs. He lowers down to place a sucking kiss on Draco’s left inner thigh, close to his kneecap, and it instantly sends a flare to Draco’s cock. The next kiss is placed yet another inch closer to Draco’s crotch and he carries on until he’s almost there. Then he retreats and repeats his filthy actions on Draco’s right leg. Though this time Harry moves his left hand to Draco’s arse and starts to teasingly massage around his opening. When Harry once again has sucked his way up to just right to Draco’s crotch, he lets his fingers slip into Draco’s hole. By now, Draco’s squirming and making so many incoherent sounds he’s basically unable to voice his wants to Harry, even though he wants nothing but for Harry to take him.
One hand is caressing Draco’s back, the other busy working Draco loose and lips kissing Draco’s stomach, chest, and shoulders. Harry is practically everywhere, touching everything on Draco. Still, it’s not enough, for Draco wants more, he wants Harry inside him. Shaking, Draco tries to widen his legs further as well as rocking his hips closer to Harry, fucking himself on Harry’s fingers. With an incoherent please leaving Draco’s lips, Harry finally removes his fingers from inside Draco to replace them with his cock. Draco’s so worked up it shouldn’t be a problem for Harry to enter. Still, Draco appears so remarkably tight around Harry’s cock as it gets completely full. Harry’s unable to move in all at once. He lets out a frustrated growl.
“Doesn’t… matter… no… stop… move!” Draco stutters through gritted teeth as Harry starts to work his way inside again. It burns but not uncomfortably so. The more Harry moves inside him, the easier it gets and with every stroke that hits Draco’s prostate, a cry of pleasure fills the room. Draco strokes his hands through Harry’s hair and pulls him down for a kiss. From there he proceeds to wrap his arms around Harry’s neck so that he can feel Harry’s movements, bucking his hips forward.
“Fuck! I’m gonna…” is the only warning Draco gets before he gets filled to the brim with Harry Potter’s cum. A moment later he feels his own prick contracting before spilling out white spunk over his and Harry’s stomachs. They fall down, Harry on top of Draco on the bed.
“Merlin’s beard, finally.” Harry mutters, while snuggling his face into Draco’s neck.
“Mm… finally,” Draco agrees. Too tired to do anything, they just vanish the sticky mess instead of going to the shower. Then they make themselves comfortable and fall asleep in each other’s arms.
Waking up the next morning, Draco finds himself unable to move as Harry’s holding him in place with an iron grip around his waist. Carefully, he tries to wake up the beautiful man.
“Harry,” he whispers while stroking Harry’s cheek tentatively, “We’ve got to go up…”
“Hmm… don’t wanna…”
“Yeah, but… work…” that’s when Draco remembers what Flint had said the previous day. “WORK” he shouts and starts to desperately break free of Harry’s embrace. He doesn’t get far though, as his eyes land upon a grey owl sitting on one of his kitchen chairs.
“Melody, what are you doing here?” Draco asks as he walks up to the bird to retrieve the letter. With shaking hands he slowly opens it up to read it just as Harry enters the room and moves to hug Draco from behind and rest his head on Draco’s shoulder.
Well done, Draco. I must say this is not what I had in mind yesterday when we spoke but it is nonetheless very well done. Because of this excellent work, I’ll give you the day off. I suppose you’ll need it. ;)
Marcus Flint
“What’s the bloke talking about?” Draco mutters, but he’s instantly answered by Harry reaching for today’s Daily Prophet. It features a photo of him and Harry kissing on their way out of the muggle café on the front page. Under the newspaper lays the latest number of Witch Weekly that too is sporting the two of them on the front page, though this one is of them just holding hands and drinking coffee.
“Salazar Slytherin, these are some good photos.” Draco comments.
“Yeah,” Harry answers. “For the first time we look alive.”
“Hmm…” Draco hums in response while letting himself remember what had happened the day before. With a smile he turns to face Harry. “It’s just my bloody luck, right? To run into you like that? You are my luck, Harry.” he says before leaning in to kiss the man. A kiss that shows how lucky Draco feels to have his saviour there.
