TITLE: Rented Fingers.

BY: Starkiller.

BETA: rian219

RATING: NC17.

PAIRING: Harry/Draco.

DISCLAIMER: Mine they are not, no money, don’t sue. All characters and locations of the Harry Potter universe belong to J. K. Rowling, Warner Bros and associates. I make no money from this work, it is purely a work of fan love.

NOTES: Written for the HP Cookie Jar.





Harry was nervous. It was the eve of his twentieth birthday and he sat alone in his small London apartment, reading through the personal section of the ‘Daily Prophet.’ At age nineteen, Harry had never slept with anyone, had never indulged in any of his sexual desires apart from a few stolen kisses here and there whilst at school. After graduation, he had entered training to become an Auror, and with the long hours and hard work, he had found that he was simply too tired to even contemplate forming a lasting attachment of any kind with anyone around him. And so now he sat, gazing at the personals, reading and rereading, pondering what to do.



The idea of hiring a prostitute was not a new one to the brunette – he had contemplated the idea for some time, particularly once he had left school. The small flat he had purchased on a side lane just off of Diagon Alley was warm and cosy but it was also awfully empty. Sometimes, Harry wished he would come home to a lover, a partner, but he believed that that would probably never happen. He was painfully aware that anyone who became involved with him would be subject to a great deal of public scrutiny, and even more aware that his interest in his own gender would generate a great deal of gossip. What Harry wanted more than anything was a quiet, private life, a partner to share it with, and someone to come home to at night. As he grew older, he had entertained the idea of a prostitute more and more. And now, the night before his twentieth birthday, he had decided to finally, once and for all, satisfy his longings and urges.



The advertisements were all similar, apart from stating the various attributes of those who were looking for clients. One small advertisement caught Harry’s eye and he found himself reading it over and over again. ‘Twenty years old, blond. Send owl with your location and date requested for visit to Moribundus care of the Leaky Cauldron.’ Harry sighed as he read the words for the millionth time. None of the other advertisements had held his attention so completely, and he didn’t know why this one did. Perhaps it was the name – or perhaps it was the fact that the individual was his own age. He could not say definitely, but whatever it was, suddenly fuelled him with conviction. He took up a piece of parchment, scribbled down his address and the word ‘Now.’ He folded the parchment, scrawled ‘Moribundus’ on to it and summoned Hedwig. “The Leaky Cauldron,” he said softly to her, and with a hoot, she took wing and flew out of his window. Harry sat back in his chair, closing his eyes. He was shaking.



Hedwig returned fifteen minutes later bearing a note, which the brunette took with shaking fingers. ‘Ten pm,’ the note read. Harry sighed, glancing quickly at his watch. He had an hour to wait. With another sigh, he leaned back and closed his eyes, willing himself to stop feeling so nervous, to calm down. Hiring someone to deal with the increasingly annoying presence of his virginity wasn’t something he’d ever expected he would be doing. He’d thought, when he was younger, that he would marry and have children. He had realised those dreams of his youth were dashed when he woke up just after his fifteenth birthday, lying in a puddle of sticky wetness, the faint feathers of a particularly erotic dream featuring two men in his mind. What that dream and the similar ones following it told him was that he was not interested in girls. The revelation had been both a relief and a shock. From that point on, he had gone to extraordinary lengths to keep it a secret, and in turn, had deprived himself of ever experiencing any sort of relationship.



The time passed slowly, with Harry’s nervousness increasing. As the clock in his small lounge room chimed ten, his heart began to pound. The chimes faded away, and as silence fell, there came a knock at the door. Gulping, Harry stood and went to open it. He was completely unprepared for the person standing on the threshold.



“Hello, Potter.” Draco Malfoy smirked. “I trust I’m not late?”



Harry opened and closed his mouth several times in shock. Draco breezed past him, into the small apartment, his expression amused. “Close the door, Potter,” he said calmly. “Or did you want an audience?”



Automatically, the brunette shut the door, and as an afterthought, locked it. He stared at Draco and then rubbed his eyes. When he reopened them, Draco was gazing at him intently.



“Malfoy – what the hell are you doing here?”



“You requested the services of Moribundus for ten pm. So here I am.”



“Y-YOU’RE Moribundus?” Harry was stunned.



“I am.”



“But…but…why? How? What happened?”



“In order, why – because one needs to make a living. How – because my talent for sex is one that pays very well, and as to what happened, well. You did destroy my family, after all, so seeing as I have not a sickle to my name from the family fortune, I must make my way in the world through other means. In short – I became a rent boy. I must say, it pays awfully well. And the work is not unpleasant.” Draco leered.



Harry continued to stare at him. “But…you’re not angry?”



The blond shrugged. “Why should I be? Things could be worse. I could be in Azkaban. Or I could be dead. This is a far more satisfactory occupation.”



“Cut the crap.” Harry was suddenly angry. “Is this some kind of joke?”



Draco glared at him. “No. And time is money, Potter. You already owe me twenty galleons, so unless you want to clock up an astonishingly large bill, lets get to it, hmm? What do you want?”



Harry stared at Draco, a myriad of emotions chasing across his face. He was terrified – not so much because he was about to pay someone for the privilege of taking his virginity, but because that person was Draco Malfoy, long time archrival and enemy. And also, a small voice in his mind reminded him, the one person he had longed for, ever since he was sixteen years old.



The brunette bit down on his lower lip, chewing nervously as he gazed at Draco, and the blond sighed. “All right, Potter, however you want it.” He had noticed Harry’s nervousness, the rapid flicker and play of emotions across the other’s face. Draco had a certain suspicion as to the nature of Harry’s previous experience, but discussing it while the brunette looked ready to bolt was not going to be productive. Closing the distance between them, Draco cupped Harry’s face between his hands and kissed him.



He’d been kissed before, of course, but not like this. Harry’s eyes fluttered shut as Draco’s lips pressed gently against his own. He felt soft fingers against his cheeks, the faint whisper of Draco’s breath against his skin. Without conscious thought, Harry slipped his arms around the blond’s waist. He let out a soft sigh; his mouth opening against Draco’s, and the blond gently caressed his lips with his tongue. Hesitantly, Harry’s tongue darted out to lightly touch Draco’s, and Draco returned the favour, lightly slipping his own tongue over and around Harry’s. The kiss slowly deepened, progressing from a tentative exploration to an erotic dance, Draco’s tongue making love to Harry’s mouth, sliding over teeth, running slowly over the brunette’s sensitive palate. Harry whimpered softly as he felt Draco kissing him with such gentleness. The hands cupping his cheeks continued to remain soft and tender, and the mouth pressed against his was warm and sure. Desire flared up in the brunette and he forgot his nervousness, forgot that this was his most hated enemy kissing him, and lost himself in the sensations.



For his part, Draco had his suspicion confirmed. Harry’s hesitancy spoke of innocence and naivety in the ways of the flesh. His tentative touch, the slow sliding of arms around Draco’s waist, the almost desperate sound of longing that came from the brunette spoke more eloquently than any words ever could. In the moments that they kissed, Draco knew everything about Harry. He knew that the Boy Who Lived was desperately lonely, that he had spent far too much time alone and begun to shun society. He knew that Harry craved love and affection, needed to know someone needed him and that he had not shared his bed or his heart with anyone. The innocence in the other’s touch astounded Draco, and the moment when Harry let go and lost himself in the blond awed the other young man. For a moment, Draco forgot he was a whore, a rent boy, and felt as if he were kissing his lover, his protector, his reason for being.



After several moments, they parted, dark grey eyes gazing into green. “Wow,” Harry whispered, his fingers clutching nervously at Draco’s shirt, though he did not let go or pull away from the blond. “Though I suppose that wasn’t really anything special for you.” He suddenly looked painfully embarrassed.



The blond blinked. “And if I told you it was?” He gently ran a hand through thick dark hair, his eyes never wavering from Harry’s.



“I…I don’t know.” Fear was shining from those green eyes, fear and an aching, desperate longing. Something inside Draco snapped, and he pulled Harry closer.



“Tonight, I will show you just how special it was,” he said softly, and kissed Harry again.



They stood together, kissing for long moments, Draco applying all his expertise to kiss Harry as thoroughly as he knew how. He could feel the hardness of the brunette’s erection pressing against him through faded jeans and he whimpered. Harry Potter, aroused, kissing him, pressing his cock against his hip was something he had only thought of in his most wildest and private fantasies. Draco had yearned for Harry for longer than he cared to remember. He had forgiven the brunette for everything he had done to his life, his home, his family, even forgiven him for destroying the Malfoy family so utterly that Draco himself relied upon his skills in the bedroom in order to live. And now, here he was, being paid by Harry to fuck him.



That thought sobered the blond and he pulled back from Harry’s kiss-swollen lips. “I won’t take your money,” he said softly.



“What?” Harry blinked in surprise. “Why not?”



“Because I don’t want it. Not from you.”



Confusion and then the fear was back. The brunette gulped. “Draco…”



“I have wanted you far too long to let you pay me for the favour,” Draco replied calmly.



“Me?” The expression of stunned amazement on Harry’s face was priceless. Draco suppressed a chuckle, instead kissing those soft lips once again.



“You.” Kiss. “Is that a problem?”



“N-no,” Harry stammered in between gentle kisses and soft touches. “But why me? You hate me.”



“No, actually I don’t,” Draco replied, and his mouth latched onto Harry’s earlobe, sucking gently, his teeth lightly grazing the soft flesh. He hummed softly, his tongue tracing delicate swirls over the skin as he continued to suck and nibble. His hands slid down Harry’s neck to his shoulders, fingers massaging away tension. He could feel Harry’s hands tightening around his waist, the slow, careful passage of cautious fingers running up his back. He hummed again, pressing himself closer to the young man in his arms, and rolled his hips against Harry’s groin.



That movement elicited a low, drawn out gasp from the brunette. Whatever he had intended to say before Draco had started sucking on his ear was forgotten as he felt heat spiral through him from the sensation of Draco’s erection against his body. He felt his cock leap in his jeans, and he moaned, his fingers clutching reflexively at Draco’s shirt. The blond pulled back and gazed at him again before stepping back, out of Harry’s arms. As the brunette cried out a soft ‘no,’ Draco raised a finger.



“Hush, Harry, I’m not going anywhere.” And with that, he began to undress.



As Draco’s skin was slowly and painstakingly revealed for him, inch by pale inch, Harry’s eyes grew as round as saucers. He took in the pale chest, slender and toned, marred here and there by the occasional scar, nipples a rosy pink and hardened. He gulped as Draco’s delicate hands slid down his pants to reveal the rest of his body, silvery hair dusting his pelvis, and his cock, hard and aroused. Muscular hips and thighs were revealed to Harry’s amazed eyes and he drank in the image of Draco naked and erect standing before him.



“Bedroom, Harry?” Draco was speaking, Harry realised, and he shook his head to clear the lustful fog from his brain.



“Um, this way.” He blushed scarlet, ducking his head, and gestured even as he led Draco to the small room.



The blond said nothing, merely moved to stand in front of his customer, his fingers going to work on clothing, letting Harry’s shirt drop to the floor. He ran his hands over the brunette’s chest, kissing nipples, licking and sucking, every so often worrying the nubs with his teeth, teasing them to hardness. Harry’s hands were in his hair, his eyes were closed, and he was panting, murmuring half words and phrases, urging Draco on. As the blond slid his hands down and unfastened and pushed down Harry’s jeans and briefs, his fingers coming into contact with skin, Harry whimpered.



He made no protest as Draco’s hand took hold of his cock, stroking him gently, slowly. He whimpered again when the blond pressed himself against his body, and rubbed his own cock against Harry’s. He cried out when he felt Draco’s hand encircle both their cocks and stroke them together, his fingers digging into the blond’s shoulders. Harry’s eyes were closed, and he was drowning in the sensation of Draco’s body, his hands, his scent, the small sounds of pleasure he made deep in his throat. The brunette’s universe had contracted to Draco and everything Draco did to him. He was, therefore, unprotesting when he was gently pushed to the bed, his body straddled, and his mouth kissed passionately as pale hands roamed over him.



Harry moaned as he felt Draco slide down his body, sucking, licking, tasting. Gentle fingers caressed his skin, a soft tongue left wet trails in its wake. When Draco’s lips kissed the head of his erection, Harry cried out, his hips thrusting upward, his body convulsing at the sensation. Draco’s mouth encircled the head of the brunette’s cock, sucking gently, slowly, his tongue lightly teasing the slit, as his fingers ran slowly up and down the vein on the underside of Harry’s cock. Arousal pooled in the brunette’s groin, his cries becoming pleas, and then as one of Draco’s hands found and massaged his balls, his mouth sliding lower down his cock, Harry cried out loudly.



“Oh, gods, Draco, I’m going to come…”



The blond sucked a little harder, urging the brunette to let go, and Harry’s hips bucked helplessly as he came, sheathed in the warm, wet cavern of Draco’s mouth. He could feel Draco swallowing and he cried out again, an incoherent sound of desperate longing. Licking Harry’s cock clean from root to tip, Draco slid back up the shaking body of the brunette and kissed him gently, his hands grazing slow paths over the shaking chest.



“Harry.”



Green eyes fluttered open, full of astonishment and an aching desire. “Gods, Draco, I…”



“I know.” Draco pressed a soft kiss to the infamous scar on Harry’s forehead. “We have all night.”



A nod and then, “What about….after?”



Draco smiled faintly. “We’ll see.” And then he kissed Harry again, his mouth firmer, more demanding, his tongue duelling erotically with Harry’s own. All the brunette could do was hang on, kiss Draco back, his cock hard once more, aching and burning for more. He let his hands wander slowly over Draco’s back and shoulders, emboldened by the soft sounds of pleasure coming from the other young man. Heart pounding in his chest, Harry slipped a hand between their bodies and tentatively took hold of the blond’s erection, stroking once.



His cautious touch elicited a faint groan and Draco pulled back from Harry’s mouth, breathing harshly. “I’m going to let you fuck me, now,” he said softly. “Consider it a present. This is not something I usually do.” With that, he murmured the lubrication charm, positioned himself over Harry’s straining erection and slowly lowered himself down onto the brunette’s cock.



“Oh, my god…” Harry was speechless with pleasure. Draco was tight and hot and oh, god, he was moving, rising up and down, Harry’s cock sliding in and out of him. Slowly, the brunette thrust upward and was rewarded with a loud groan. He thrust again, one hand reaching out to take hold of Draco’s cock once more, stroking the hard flesh, his fingers shaking. Slowly they fell into a rhythm of fucking, Draco’s body rising and falling on top of Harry’s own, as the brunette thrust up into the tightness surrounding his cock, gradually increasing speed and hardness, until they were both crying out. Harry could feel Draco clench and unclench around him and with a hoarse shout and one last thrust, he came, shooting his fluid deep inside the body of the blond. Draco let out a strangled cry, and came in turn, sticky wetness splattering on Harry’s stomach and hand.



Panting, the blond leaned down and brushed a soft kiss over Harry’s lips, still riding the brunette’s cock. “Good, Potter,” he purred softly, his fingers tweaking still-hard nipples, eliciting a low gasp. “Very good. And do you want me to fuck you?”



“Y-yes,” Harry stammered, eyes wide with shock and lust.



“Mm.” Draco purred again, and smiled lazily. “Who would’ve thought my chosen occupation would put me in a position to be the Boy Who Lived’s first fuck?”



Harry was about to reply to that when Draco rolled off him and picked up a pillow, pushing it calmly beneath his hips. Unable to focus sufficiently to argue, Harry simply let Draco take control once more, watching as the blond stroked his cock to hardness once again, murmuring the lubrication charm for the second time.



“This will hurt,” Draco said softly. “You’ll feel like you’re being split in two, but it gets better.”



“I trust you,” Harry said unthinkingly, and Draco stared at him.



“You really do, don’t you.” It wasn’t a question. “Thank you, Harry.”



There was no chance for a reply as Harry felt a finger slide around his entrance. He tensed as he heard that faint whisper of the charm and felt cool gel inside him. Then something thin and hard was probing him, slipping slowly inside him and Harry was gasping, biting hard on his inner cheek to keep from screaming. It hurt, more than he thought it ever would, and he shook, tears of pain leaking from his eyes.



“Shh,” Draco said softly, slowly pushing his finger deeper inside. Harry’s eyes closed, screwing up with pain and then something changed.



“Oh, FUCK!” Pleasure spiralled through the brunette, his eyes popping open in shock, staring at Draco who grinned at him. “What the…? SHIT, Draco! Again!”



Draco laughed, curling the tip of his finger gently, rubbing the tiny gland that was the source of so much pleasure. “Like that?”



“Fuck, YES!” Harry was gasping and writhing, pushing back against the finger in his body, feeling wave after wave of pleasure tear through him. He could feel a second finger inside him, both fingers rubbing gently and persistently against the gland, and he cried out again, his hips bucking uncontrollably. “Fuck, keep that up, I’ll come!”



“Can’t have that,” Draco said, amusement in his voice, and the fingers were withdrawn. The brunette cried out in horror, and as he reached for Draco, he felt something thicker and not at all finger-like against his entrance and he gasped. Draco’s cock slowly pushed inside him, filling him and Harry felt as if he would explode from the fullness of it. It hurt, and the brunette shivered, his cock, which had been hard and aroused, beginning to grow flaccid with the pain coursing through him. Draco inched forward inside the body of the former Gryffindor, breath hissing between his teeth, aiming for and hitting Harry’s prostate.



“FUCK!” Hips arched off the bed as Draco’s cock touched him and Harry’s arousal returned with a vengeance. “FUCK, DRACO!”



“That,” the blond replied, hoarsely, “was the general idea.” And then he started thrusting in and out of Harry’s body, moans of pleasure filling the air. Harry was so tight, tighter than anyone else Draco had ever been with. He felt the brunette’s muscles clench around him and he whimpered, fighting off his fast approaching orgasm. Slowly he thrust in and out of the writhing body beneath him, hair falling into his face. Harry’s cock bobbed and twitched with each thrust, and after several moments, the brunette came, cock untouched. The sight and sound of Harry orgasming sent Draco over the edge, and with a few short, quick thrusts, he too came, crying out Harry’s name.



They lay together, breathing harshly, basking in the afterglow. After a while, Harry turned to the blond, his green eyes still wide, and smiled shyly. “That was…amazing. Thank you.” He pushed a strand of silvery hair back from Draco’s face.



“Don’t mention it,” Draco replied calmly. “And as much as I would love to stay, I should probably go.”



Disappointment filled those green eyes and Draco silently cursed himself. “Stay, Draco. Please?”



“I have to…”



“No, you don’t.” Harry’s voice was firm now, full of the sound of conviction of one who has had an idea and will not be shaken from it. “You could live here, Draco, with me. You wouldn’t have to do that for a living again. You could do whatever you wanted.” His voice was earnest and sincere and for a moment, Draco felt like laughing.



“You crazy Gryffindor,” he said softly, kissing soft pink lips. “Do you know what you’re saying?”



“Yeah.” A firm nod, dark hair falling into bright eyes. “Live with me. Be my…”



“Lover? Boyfriend? Fuck buddy?”



“All of the above.” Harry grinned. “Please?”



Draco rolled his eyes. “You hate me, Potter.”



“No, I don’t. I mean, yes, I did, but…not any more. You opened my eyes, Draco. Stay. Please.”



The blond gazed at him thoughtfully. “I’ll stay tonight,” he said after a while, “and I will…consider your suggestion.”



Strong arms wrapped around him. “Thank you,” Harry said, his voice muffled against Draco’s shoulder. “Don’t think about it too long.”



“Or you’ll change your mind?” There was a hint of mockery in Draco’s voice.



“No.” The brunette pulled back to gaze sincerely into the silver eyes gazing at him. “I’d just hate having to drag you back kicking and screaming.”



Draco burst out laughing and kissed the brunette again. “You are possibly the most insane person I’ve ever met,” he said simply.



Harry snuggled against him, smiling. “Thank you, Draco,” he replied.



“You’re welcome, Harry.”