Never the first, always the second

Chapter 2

Draco tried to look calm and collected, he knew he would not succeed, especially considering he was still on his knees and his head reached Bloody Potter's waist. His heart was beating like a thunderstorm was brewing.

There was no warning, no idea what was going to happen next, and then there was a finger in his mouth, stretching it. 'Hey, that's my tongue you are touching' , Malfoy thought as the fingertip caressed his tongue.

Draco, still seeing every expression on Potter's face, could not help but wonder at the half-smile of the one touching him.

You should be ashamed of yourself , said a voice in his head. And so am I, I really feel like shit .

"Dear nephew, I have great news!" Aunt Bella appeared in his flat at first light. Her hair flowed uncontrollably as if she had been awake all night, which was probably true.

Draco, who had just opened his eyes and was still making his first cup of tea of the morning, was not really pleased to see her at her door. "What happened?" was all he said, moving from the front steps into the living room, where he made himself comfortable until his aunt arrived.

"The client chose you, are not you pleased?" Aunt Bella started to laugh. Draco would never admit it, but he was disgusted by the sound.

"Great ... and when do I have to go to your shop?" Draco sat down on his couch and tucked away the book he had been reading earlier, not wanting his aunt to tease him for reading fiction.

"Oh no, my boy," she laughed again and sat down by his side, leaving no space between them, "He's a special customer, and a special customer decides where the show is. He wants you to be in his manor."

Draco tried not to flinch, it would be seen too badly. He remembered the times his mother was mobbed by reporters and camera flashes when his father was convicted, and she never showed a sign of discomfort. If she could do it, so would he. "Manor? Do I even know who this 'special costumer' is?"

"Yes, yes! He wants you at the Potter manor next Wednesday night, at nine off the clock, sharp."

That, that was the moment Draco felt the ground crumble. The only sign of it was a small tremor in his right foot and a sharp intake of breath. But the only thing that came out of his mouth was, "Potter Manor? Uncle Regulus is going to be pissed"

Potter's right hand left his mouth and went straight into Draco's hair, strands of hair flowing between his fingers as he stroked them reverently. But then, on the back of Draco's neck, his grip tightened. The sting made him flinch, and he was at the front line to see that half-smile grow on Potter's face until becoming a full-blown smile showing all teeth.

Potter lowered himself so that their eyes were level and bared Draco's neck for examination. Draco's pursed lips widened in shock before they tightened again, tingling with anticipation. He groaned at the move, at the ruthless command that lay within.

'Control yourself, you idiot,' a voice that sounded like his godfather whispered in his ear.

Potter tugged again at Draco's hair, which curled in a wave around his hand as he held it.

At that moment, Draco asked himself why he had let his hair grow to his waist. He promised that he would cut it off first thing the next day. Yes, it was hard work, and he was proud of his beautiful hair, but at the moment it was a shame for him to feel the pulse between his legs.

"What beautiful hair you have, Malfoy."

"You like my hair, don't you?" retorted Draco, not very creatively, with a dose of courage he did not know where he got it from. But Perfect Potter's green eyes rolled over with enough predatory intent to make the words resonate, and those eyes sparkled. That twinkle reminded Draco of his time at Hogwarts, of duelling and challenging.

"I love it," Potter said. "Tell me," he commanded, "why are you here? I know you do not normally do this kind of work? Are you really that short of money?".

Draco should feel bad, but the heat pulsing between his legs was something like the sharpness of Harry's magic, what he felt in the air he now felt on him, in its weight and hold on him. A throbbing of need for touch came over him. He was about to lose himself in it

"I did not come here to talk about professions, Potter. I came here to do a job," Potter pulled Draco's hair again, revealing more of him, but Draco kept talking. "So tell me what you want me to do here. You paid a large sum of money for me to just get on my knees and show my skin. You know I can sing and act. Tell me, Potter."

Potter lowered his head so that his mouth was next to his ear and whispered, "I am satisfied with this performance, and I really want to hear you sing, but no songs, really." Then, he lets go of his hair for a split second to tidy himself. His face is now inches away from him. Potter expelled a breath and the minty scent reached him, but Draco could only see Potter's eyes lower and reach his mouth.

The heat inside Draco was almost suffocating, the sensitivity on his skin already rising without him touching it. He could feel how hard his nipples were in the night air, could see Harry's eyes keep moving back and forth between his lips and them, as if he wanted to put his fingers - or his teeth - on them.

"So here he is, the bloody perfect Harry Potter," Draco said.

"And here he is too, the obnoxious and gorgeous Draco Malfoy," Potter replied, and a second later his lips met his.

Draco groaned in it, his thoughts scattered, and at the same time everything and nothing in the universe grounded itself in that pair of lips.