Prompt: # 21
Summary: Solicitor Malfoy has a very stressful job. Part of his stress comes from his very attractive client: former Auror Harry Potter, who is suing the Ministry. And Draco is consistently having trouble staying professional.
Contains/Warning(s): Nothing extreme to report. Office!sex. Rimming.
Word Count: 4515
Author's Notes: All my thanks to dracogotgame and amorette for their help! I couldn't have done it without the cheering and the eye for detail. ♥
Draco sat back on the sofa in his office closing his eyes. He loved and hated this part of his fantasy. Ice cold hands on his stomach as they pushed his shirt up and tackled his belt. He shivered, knowing that there wasn't anyone there, yet he was there.
Draco wrapped his fingers around his cock and tugged, imagining Potter sliding down on it.
"Fuck," he whispered to himself as his lube-slicked hand tightened and moved up and down. He bit the inside of his cheek, suppressing a loud moan, even though he was alone in the room. He was always alone in the room. Brushing his thumb over the head, he whimpered. He was close, so close, and he couldn't decide if he wanted to come inside Potter's puckered hole or his puckered lips.
Merlin, Draco needed this release if he was going to sit through the next hour-long meeting. He jerked his wrist a few more times, and then he was coming – moaning Potter's name, aching for that tight hole to clench around him.
Gods, Draco had it bad, and it was devastating. It was Potter! And Draco couldn't help it but disapprove of his desire because of their history.
A quick Scourgify, and all evidence of his illicit activity disappeared. Straightening himself up and pressing down his robes, Draco headed for the door. Just like he'd suspected, there was a knock in less than thirty seconds.
Martha, his secretary, announced that Mr Potter and Mr Longbottom had arrived for the meeting. Right, then. Time to put on the face.
"No, this is absolutely wrong! You're absolutely wrong!" Longbottom roared, pacing up and down the room as Potter sat stiffly across from Draco.
"Calm down, Neville," he said, first looking at Draco apologetically, then turning to Longbottom. Draco noticed a small mark on the back of Potter's neck and wondered where he'd gotten it. Was it a love bite? The idea rapidly sent Draco into a state of jealousy, and he had to remind himself that Potter didn't belong to him. He was perfectly allowed to get love bites from whoever he desired.
"Calm down? Calm down!" Longbottom continued to have his nervous breakdown. "It's my greenhouse, I don't understand –" He shot one look at Potter and scowled. Eventually, he did relax. "How can they possibly do this to me? Don't they know who we are?"
Potter nodded sympathetically and gestured for Longbottom to sit. Longbottom obeyed without hesitation, and Draco couldn't help but wonder if it was Longbottom's lips that left that mark.
"I think they know who we are and that's exactly why they're doing this," Potter answered.
"I also don't think it helps that you've hired me to fight for your behalf on this case," Draco said. "The two Saviours of the wizarding world teaming up with a former Death Eater –" He shook his head.
Potter shrugged, as though it was the most insignificant thing on the planet.
Nearly two months ago, Draco had received the surprising news that Harry Potter and Neville Longbottom were reaching out to him to help them settle a dispute against the Ministry. He was sure that there were plenty of solicitors out there who would take the case, so he didn't know why they asked him. His curiosity got the best of him and he agreed to the meeting.
It turned out that Longbottom, now a semi-famous Herbologist, had gotten into a business venture with Potter, who had recently resigned from the Ministry. Potter informed Draco that the Ministry was doing their best to make sure nobody hired him, since they really didn't want him to leave. When they got wind of the fact that Potter had signed on as a business partner for "Neville and Harry's Roots and Draughts" – Longbottom was the brains behind it and Potter was the Galleon – the Ministry set about finding new ways of shutting down their Herbology laboratory with red tape and bureaucracy.
Finally, deciding that enough was enough, they'd decided to seek out legal counsel. Draco still did not understand why they came to him. Case after case Draco helped resolve, and they kept coming back.
"Ever since Shacklebolt retired five years ago, the Ministry has gotten ridiculous. More ridiculous than the way it was during Fudge." Potter wasn't really talking to Draco or Longbottom. He had a habit of just going off on a random rant on his own. Draco had started to notice. Along with the twitch in Potter's right eye when he got really worked up, and that every time he'd visit Draco, he wore different trousers, but always the same shoes.
In their last meeting, Longbottom had been in an angry frenzy and he accidentally knocked four rolls of parchment onto the floor. Luckily for Draco, Potter decided to pick them up; which involved him bending over and giving Draco a perfect view of his full, round arse.
Ever since then, Draco found himself wishing Longbottom would drop more things. Actually, it wasn't a far-fetched wish at all, as Longbottom tended to be quite clumsy.
"What are they saying this time?" Draco asked, yanking himself out of the thoughts of Potter's arse to the actual case at hand.
Longbottom sighed and Potter allowed him to talk. "They said that they've received written complaints from the neighbours of smoke coming from my greenhouse, and now the Ministry wants to shut us down to ensure that we're not releasing toxic chemicals into the environment!"
"And this, of course, is not true?" Draco reckoned it couldn't hurt to ask.
"We don't have any neighbours," Longbottom snapped. "And I place a shield around the greenhouse. So for one, there are no toxic chemicals, and two, if there were, they wouldn't be released in the environment because of the sodding shield!"
"Nev–" Potter placed a hand on Longbottom's knee, and Draco scowled with fury.
"You have proof of this?" he asked, ignoring the rage of jealousy in his stomach. The faster he could get these people out of his office, the better he'd feel.
"Yes. Here are the list of Charms I perform before every experiment, and here are all the permits I had received last year that allowed me to do my tests."
"I don't understand..." Draco thought out loud.
"What?" Potter said, looking intently at him, almost making Draco forget his own name, and removed his hands off Neville, placing them on the desk.
Draco glanced down at Potter's hand quickly before looking up. There was no wedding ring. "I realise that the Ministry has it in for you, Potter, since you left them and gave that interview in the Prophet about what they could do with their offer–" Draco stopped a moment to chuckle, and Potter looked rather sheepish. Curse him for being so disturbingly attractive –when did that happen anyway? "But –why are they after Longbottom? It isn't just singling you out anymore, they're targeting the both of you."
Potter looked at Longbottom, who nodded, understanding that he should speak again. Draco hated that almost telekinetic bond the two shared. He wondered how many times he'd scowled in meetings with them, and if they'd started to notice.
"About two years ago, I was in the Prophet for a new potion that I had created, I'm not sure–"
"Yes, I'm aware of it. It was an anti-aging potion. You were selling it to the Weasley Wizard Wheezes. The effects were temporary and they'd run out of stock within the first month, even when they'd doubled the price. You donated all the profits to charity." Draco had wondered about the potion himself and was curious to know how it worked. In a different lifetime, he would have been quite the Potion Master like the late Professor Snape. Shaking the thought out of his head, he looked up.
He glanced over at Potter, who appeared impressed. "What?" Draco asked. "I try to keep up with the current events. I need to know who might get sued when –" He struggled to keep the nonchalance in his tone and had trouble because of the way Potter was smiling at him.
"Anyway," Longbottom said, cutting in. He gave a peculiar look to Draco before continuing. "The Ministry wanted me to stop developing that potion and take on a contract to help them create something that altered a person's appearance without Polyjuice or Charms. It was supposed to be strictly for Ministry use so they could spy – I said no, of course. Even after they'd offered me more money than I could ever imagine making in a year."
"So you think they're after you now, because, you've teamed up with another person who has defied them – time and time again?" Draco asked, tilting his head, curious and in disbelief. A moment later, he snorted. "And now you've dragged me into this. Blimey Potter, you love adding fuel to the fire, don't you? Two defying Saviours – hey, might as well add a Death Eater into the mix."
"Former Death Eater," Potter corrected him.
"Well, I think it's time to fight fire with fire," Draco said, opening the file that was placed in front of him. "So far, you've only been defending yourselves with all their suits. And we've successfully countered them all. I think it's definitely time to push back."
"See, I told you!" Potter said, almost as though he'd just won a chess match against Longbottom.
"Right," Draco said, clearing his throat, and he wasn't certain but he thought he'd heard Potter whisper: I told you he was good.
"What do you suggest?" Longbottom asked, sounding exasperated, and for once Draco thought it was with Potter and not him.
"We can start with submitting paperwork claiming that we are charging them for harassment of citizens due to frivolous litigation. We can file a suit against them for: wrongful accusation, causing distress, which has led to loss of business. You can file to receive compensation –"
"I don't care for compensation," Longbottom interrupted.
"Fine, you can pay me with that money," Draco answered, rolling his eyes. "The point is to keep their legal department busy with everything that I can come up with so they won't even have time to think about buggering you lot."
Potter looked mesmerised and Longbottom looked unconvinced. Was Potter always this easy to impress?
"Look. I interned at the Ministry when I was starting out. I know how they work. I know how underpaid and overworked the secretaries are and they haven't got Martha –" Draco pointed at the closed door where Martha sat on the other side of. "I pay her almost as much as I make on a monthly basis and there's a reason for that. She's got friends everywhere and she's doesn't think twice when I need her to stay late. The Ministry doesn't have that."
"I don't know," Longbottom said, shrugging and looking at his hands. "It sounds like a lot of unnecessary work."
Draco looked at Potter who rolled his eyes and gestured for Draco to do something. Convince him, he mouthed, and Draco's cock twitched as he watched Potter's mouth move.
"Longbottom. That's my job. That's why you're here; I'll file the motions. Actually, Martha will – but that's beside the point. I've got Martha, and you've got me. You don't have to worry about a thing. Go and make your toxic potions all you want ruining the environment –"
"I told you, I don't –"
"That's not the point, is it? Just go, get out of here. Grow your environmentally friendly plants. Shag your – whoever. Let someone else fight your battles for once!" Draco smiled; tilting his head, he rubbed the back of his neck. He was tired and it has been a very long day.
When he looked up, Potter was staring at him. It was the oddest expression and when Draco raised an eyebrow, Potter immediately cleared his expression.
"Well, gentlemen," Draco said standing up and offering his hand to Longbottom first, "I'll owl you when I'm ready for your signatures on the legal documents."
Longbottom's handshake was firm and resolute. It seemed that Draco had willed the Gryffindor from inside Longbottom to rise again. When he shook Potter's hand, Potter took his bloody time letting go of it. Rat bastard, Draco thought, scowling, but knew that he really wasn't that upset. He was going to use that hand later doing things to himself that he wished were with the real Potter.
A few minutes later, they were out the door. Draco came around from his desk and his fingers lingered on the chair Potter was sitting on. His touch travelled down to the base of the seat as he felt a bit of heat and he licked his lips. He wasn't due to have any more appointments for the evening and if he wanted – he could have had some fun on that chair.
Draco sat down crossing his legs, and relaxed. He wondered if he had the energy for another go. He reckoned Martha was due to leave soon and perhaps, he could have his bit of fun and then Apparate home.
He closed his eyes and tried to imagine Potter's warmth around him. A few short moments later, there was a knock on the door.
"Yes, Martha, you can go home now," he said, without opening his eyes, without hesitation.
"I – I think she's already left."
Draco snapped his gaze towards the door and found Potter, sans Longbottom, standing there. Awkwardly. "Did you forget something?" Draco asked, looking around the desk for files or parchments.
"No – not exactly."
"Neville..." Potter paused and took a step closer towards Draco. "He left for his date and I realised that I didn't have any other plans and I thought maybe –" He was now towering over Draco who was still seated on the visitor chair. Draco didn't miss the words "left for his date." Was this Potter's way of telling Draco that he and Longbottom weren't involved. Had he noticed the way he'd been looking at Potter?
"I noticed that you were rubbing your neck," Potter added. "I thought maybe I could give you a massage?"
"Are you asking or offering?"
"Is there a difference?" Potter asked, placing his hands in his pocket and Draco couldn't help but glance over the bulge that was nearly well on eye-level with him.
"Well, one would require me to have you sign a sexual harassment disclaimer – given that you're a client."
Potter laughed. "You're unbelievable," he said, and shrugged off his coat. He rolled up his sleeves and walked behind Draco. "Now, relax."
Fuck, Potter's hands were touching Draco's skin. They were rubbing Draco's skin. The tips of his fingers were rough and warm and much to Draco's surprise, he really knew what he was doing.
Draco's head tilted down and he involuntarily let out a groan. Loudly. Potter paused for a brief second, and Draco heard him take in a deep breath. He removed his hands and his fingers travelled in between Draco's shirt and his robe. Without any words, he motioned for Draco to remove his robe, and Draco obeyed, immediately regretting the decision because he was worried that his very painfully obvious erection would become – very painfully obvious to Potter.
Potter didn't say anything and returned back to working on Draco's shoulders. He'd taken the liberty to unbutton the top of Draco's shirt and his hands moved down to his shoulder blades, then up his neck and slide down to the side of his arms.
"Fuck..." Draco uttered. Fuck! Draco uttered! He didn't mean to become vocal. Merlin, what in the bloody hell was wrong with him? He was an arguer, for heaven's sake; he should have known not to give his stance away.
Then, Potter's hands travelled up to his hair and Draco all but lost it. He leaned back, nearly putty in Potter's hands and exhaled.
Draco hastily opened his eyes and saw Potter, gawking at Draco's erection. Fuck! He quickly straightened himself up and tried to hide his bulge by untucking his shirt and trying to cover it. He cleared his throat again, unsure of what to say.
Potter came around and stood in front of him. His erection was – very painfully obvious to Draco. Draco looked up and Potter was smiling at him, when he wasn't biting the inside of his cheek. He dropped to his knees and pushed Draco back in the chair, removing his glasses next.
Potter's hands weren't as cold as Draco had imagined them to be. However, they were quick and graceful as Draco had hoped. He quickly unfastened the belt and unzipped Draco's trousers, pulling them down swiftly. Draco had never seen anyone work that fast.
Before Draco had the chance to react, his cock was in Potter's mouth and his hand was in Potter's hair. As Draco's grip around Potter's locks tightened, Potter moaned. Gods, was he dreaming?
Draco was thankful that he'd wanked before his meeting because otherwise, he would have already despaired. Now Draco knew, he didn't just want Potter's mouth. He wanted – he needed – more.
It was as though Potter had somehow read his mind, because he released Draco's cock and looked up, smiling. "Lube?" he asked, and Draco motioned towards the sofa across the room. The lube he'd used earlier was still on the side table.
Potter stood up and removed his shirt and threw it on the other chair. He turned to walk towards the sofa and Draco took the opportunity to gawp at Potter's arse. When he turned, Draco looked away.
"I've seen you looking," Potter said, as he loomed back to Draco. Draco strived to keep his face expressionless. "I can give you a closer look if you'd like." Potter dove in, close to Draco's face, and Draco pulled him into a kiss. His hand grabbed the back of Potter's neck and abridged the distance between them. Potter kissed like he massaged, like he sucked cock, firmly and patiently.
When they pulled apart, Potter turned and dropped his trousers – stepping out of them, and kicking his shoes off. He wore a pair of tight black pants that cupped his arse in a way that should have been illegal. And Draco would know, he knew everything about the law. Draco's hands travelled up from the bottom of the pants and grabbed Potter's arse. His fingers clutched onto the elastic and pulled them down.
Draco had dragged them half way down, when Potter took over the rest. He bent forward to remove them and Draco's nose brushed up against Potter's arse. He groaned with need. "A close look, indeed," he growled before spreading Potter's cheeks and sticking his tongue in.
Potter gasped with what sounded like shock, and pleasure, Draco hoped. Draco was pushing in and out of Potter's hole as Potter started to mutter incoherently. "Malfoy. Yes. Please!" He was begging, melting under Draco, and Draco was savouring up every moment of it. By the time he pulled out his tongue, Potter had supported himself against the other chair, and Draco placed a tight hold around Potter's ankles.
Potter seemed to understand what Draco was doing and he steadied himself against the chair some more. Draco pulled Potter up, and he'd managed to balance himself rather well. A moment later, Potter's legs were spread, his knees resting on each side of Draco's thighs.
Grabbing the lube, Draco slicked his fingers wet and pushed one inside Potter, and quickly added another. Potter didn't seem to mind as he only moaned and begged for more. Draco lined his cock against Potter's hole, his two fingers still inside and he pushed in.
Merlin's balls, Potter's hole took it all in. Draco couldn't believe it. He eventually pulled his fingers out to grab Potter by his waist and steadied a rhythm, watching him sink and rise on his cock. Potter's arse, on Draco's cock.
Ultimately, Potter settled down completely, and held tightly to the side of the chair they were on. He jerked his hips, riding Draco, concentrating, and Draco simply leaned back and watched. It was more beautiful that he'd imagined it, and he'd imagined it for months.
Then his gaze fell upon the bite marks on the back of Potter's neck; he couldn't help when his jealousy raged and he thrust up. Harshly. Potter seemed to enjoy that, not realising that Draco was fucking him in a way that he wanted to stake his claim.
"Need..." Potter panted. "Fuck," he whispered. "Touch me, Draco," he begged.
Draco leaned forward and wrapped his fingers around Potter's cock. He stroked him gently, his nose and lips brushing against Potter's shoulder blades and he licked and bit Potter's skin along the way – trying to forget about the marks. Marks he wished he'd placed on Potter. Instead, he wanted to stay against the warmth of Potter's skin for as long as possible.
Potter spilled all over Draco's hand and his hips swayed faster. His hand reached back and caught Draco's neck, twisting himself for a kiss. Draco bit Potter's lower lip as his hands caressed Potter's thighs and Potter's hips continued to shift rapidly.
Draco came not too long after, groaning around Potter's tongue. A few more thrusts, and he was spent. He rested back against the chair and exhaled. Part of him was overly excited, and the other part was telling him that he was too old for this. For fuck's sake, he was only twenty-seven.
Potter rested against him, struggling to get comfortable in the chair, and Draco nuzzled into Potter's neck.
"Something tells me I should have signed a sexual harassment disclaimer before that," Potter said, and laughed; Draco felt Potter's laugh vibrate against his own body. Draco didn't react. He didn't know what to say. Potter was a client, and Draco never shagged his clients. Or at least he didn't before.
"Erm..." Potter muttered and Draco's body stiffened. Was he regretting it? He grabbed Draco's hands that were wrapped around him and unlinked them. He stood up, turned around, and sat on Draco's lap, facing him.
"I hope you're not having doubts –"
"About representing you?"
"About shagging me!" Potter glared at Draco and his fingers lingered on Draco's neck before they reached up to his hair. "And I hope you'll continue to represent us." He leaned in and kissed Draco.
"I plan to. I'm nothing if not professional," Draco said, realising that he had a naked client sitting in his lap, his own trousers pulled down to his ankles and his shirt half unbuttoned with remnants of sex and sweat.
Potter rested his head on Draco's shoulder and Draco ran his thumb over Potter's neck, where the bruises were. Potter shuddered. "Sorry, I'm still a bit sensitive," he said.
"What is it?" Draco asked, struggling to sound nonchalant. "Bite marks from a needy lover?" Draco's heart was racing and he hoped Potter wasn't able to feel it beating.
Potter sniggered into Draco's neck. "No. An experiment gone awry with some very active Herbology plants..." Draco looked at him bemused. "You don't want to know."
Draco nodded and a smile curled up on the corner. He was pleased with the bit of information that was provided. "No other lovers then?" he asked, unable to stop his curiosity. He had just opened the door to the conversation.
Potter grinned, as though he'd just won a battle. "No. You?"
Draco shook his head. "I don't have a lot of time. Handling high-end clients, and all."
"No wonder you're always so stressed," Potter said, teasing, and sounding genuinely concerned at the same time.
Draco stayed reluctantly silent, unsure of what to say. "The massage helped," he commented finally. For all intents and purposes, it actually had. Potter smiled softly and rested his head against Draco's, gently brushing their lips together.
"And this?" He swayed his hips a little.
"This has been rather helpful as well," Draco answered, rubbing Potter's thighs. It he wasn't too careful, he was sure he'd be hard again.
"I can do it again," Potter whispered and rocked back and forth. "And again." He shifted some more. Merlin, he was planning on killing Draco. "And again..."
"Blimey, Potter. The point is stress relief, not add more stress..."
Potter hummed and kissed the spot under Draco's right ear. "Maybe I could stop by again sometime, then?" he asked. "To help you out."
"That's a good idea," Draco answered, and pushed Potter away from his neck. When Potter looked at him confused, he brushed Potter's lip with his thumb, before pulling him in for a kiss again.
Potter slightly snickered.
"What is it?"
"I – I just never thought you actually liked me," Potter answered, shivering. Draco summoned the comforter from his couch and wrapped it around them. "I really did come back here to ask you out for a drink – I hoped maybe I would try to charm you or something."
"I had to maintain professionalism," Draco answered, pulling Potter in closer. "You really have no idea how hard it has been for me to do that."
"Well, you're a pro at it, if it means anything to you. Neville thinks you're astonishing."
"Ok, astonishingly a prat. But, he's impressed nonetheless."
Draco laughed. "I'll take that as a job well done."
"Just like this," Potter said, pulling on the comforter some more. "Is there anything you're not good at?"
Draco hesitated. "Breakfast. I'm not very good at breakfast." He smiled awkwardly, he really didn't know what else to say; cooking had never really been his forte. How was he supposed to react to a compliment from Harry Potter, his former nemesis, the Saviour of the wizarding world?
"That's okay," Potter replied. "I've got nothing but time since I quit the Auror program. I can cook really well."
Draco sighed with relief. Potter hadn't noticed his awkwardness. "Cooking and massages. Potter, I might just employ you for my own personal needs," he said, smirking.
"I'm afraid that my ability to stay professional isn't as resolute as yours, Malfoy."
Draco shrugged. "I suppose this arrangement will work out after all," he answered, trying to sound nonchalant again. "Hold tight," he whispered in Potter's ear and Potter shivered causing Draco to smile.
After grabbing his wand, gathering Potter's clothes and other belongings, Draco Apparated them to his flat. Stress relief or not, he still needed his bed to sleep in. He was exhausted. His body ached and as much as he was appreciative of shagging Potter, he definitely needed to get cleaned up.
"There is very little a hot bath cannot cure," Potter told him, assessing his stress level, Draco was sure. Evidently, Potter was a mind reader.
Draco reckoned having Potter there would definitely be an added bonus. Now, he wouldn't have to simply imagine Potter on the sofa at work, he would just have him. Riding Draco.
If the client was willing him to participate in activities beyond the scope of his services, he had no choice but to continue to stay professional. For the client's sake, of course.