Sex Addiction

VII

Harry stood in front of his apartment door, hesitating. The hallway lights flickered above them, making Harry feel dizzy.

"Harry?" Draco questioned softly, nudging him slightly. "Are you gonna unlock it?"

Harry blinked, looking down at the key in his hand. "Oh. Right. Uhm... Yeah."

Draco looked confused, so Harry took a deep breath and turned the key, pushing the door open.

Harry didn't realize how bad it looked until he had someone with him.

Boxes of take-out were scattered across every surface. It was unkempt; papers strewn about and tacked against the far wall. Tacks, yarn and sticky notes covered and connected them. Harry rushed to find clothes, not wanting to look Draco in the face. When he came back, he found Draco studying the photos, notes and newspaper clippings on the wall. 

"You're close."

Harry frowned, adjusted his shirt. "Pardon?"

Draco tapped a photo of a death eater. "You're close. He's hiding in Ireland, like you suspected. I saw him creeping around the manor while I was retrieving my stuff."

Harry grabbed a sticky note, snatching a pen from the floor and hastily writing 'Malfoy Manor, Wiltshire, Ireland' across it and pasting it to his portrait. 

"Thanks."

Draco nodded. "So... You really can't stop playing hero, can you?"

Harry smiled warily. "I've only caught two since the war ended."

"It's better than the entire Auror force has done," Draco retorted easily, nudging Harry with his elbow. "Now c'mon. I'm sure your friends are waiting."

Harry sighed but nodded, taking a step away to turn back towards the door. He couldn't help but notice Draco's gaze, raking down his outfit appreciatively. It was simple- deep blue trousers, close to black in coloration, a pair of nice shoes and a gray muscle shirt with a couple pieces of jewelry thrown in- a chain bracelet, a watch, and black iron rings.

"Don't let it be said you don't clean up nice, Potter."

Harry couldn't help but smile slightly. "Thanks, Malfoy," He shot the last name back at him while Draco snickered.

"Merlin, we were intolerable."

"Truly," Harry agreed, holding his elbow out dramatically. "Well? Shall be depart?"

Draco snorted quietly, hooking his arm around Harry's, looking overly posh while doing so. "We shall, sire."

x

Draco expected Harry to move away as soon as they apparated to the pub, but surprisingly, after dropping Draco's arm, took up his hand instead. Draco stared in disbelief.

Harry's hand fit perfectly in his own- or rather, his hand fit perfectly in Harry's. The contrast was beautiful. Harry's hands were large and dark, his fingers thick and calloused. His knuckles had a fine dusting of dark hair, which, as it progressed up his arms, got thicker and more coarse. Draco, on the other hand, was prized by previous lovers for his hands- small and dainty with long, thin fingers, perfectly trimmed nails and a paleness that Draco had yet to find anyone that compared. Any hair he had was so light and fine it was impossible to tell that it existed in the first place.

Harry led him over to a tall table, hopping up into the seat after pulling a chair out for Draco with a grin at his friends, who were staring at Draco with shock.

"Malfoy?"

"Draco," Harry corrected Ron lightly, grinning. "I hope you don't mind that he's joining us."