Chapter Text
Harry wakes up on Sunday morning feeling warm and comfortable, and he stays in bed to relish in the feeling of being rested and relaxed. He doesn’t remember feeling this way after sex for years, and the toxicness of the cycle he’d been caught in really sinks in. He’d feel bad after sex and he’d go back to sex to fix it, without doing anything to change the way it made him feel. No wonder his brain wouldn’t function with the way he was treating it.
The only dark-spot on his morning is the empty bed beside him. The day before had been perfect. Draco had been perfect, but Harry can’t help but wish he was here. That he could be more than just someone with benefits. Harry doesn't want to be a benefit to Draco, he wants to be the whole deal. He wants to kiss and cuddle and have Draco stay the night. He wants all of it, but Draco doesn’t, and Harry’s endlessly happy with having what he has. He’s got Draco as a partner, and he’s got to have Draco as a Dom.
He goes into the office the following Monday feeling just as relaxed and well rested, and the lights in their office don’t seem too bright at all.
“No emotional hangover then?” Draco asks, grinning at Harry.
“None at all,” Harry smiles. “Just motivated to put Crabbe behind bars.”
“I’ve been thinking,” Draco says, “I think I should see your memory from Thursday, just to be prepared in case we run into Matt again. And to make sure we don’t miss anything.”
Harry hesitates. “Uhm, the whole thing?”
“I think from the moment you met him to the moment you stopped talking should suffice,” Draco says. He doesn’t look happy about it either, to Harry’s relief.
The Pensive is still sitting on his desk from the previous week and Harry focuses on his memories of Matt in the pub and the conversation they’d had after Harry laced his drink with Veritaserum.
“So before you watch this,” Harry says, “how does this ‘partner-with-benefits’ thing work with just, regular sex?”
Draco frowns. “What do you mean?”
“I just,” Harry shrugs. “I know you to be a pretty possessive person. And I think this memory might bother that part of you. I’m just thinking that a little bit of good old fashioned, rough, possessive sex might be the perfect fix.”
“Sweet Morgana I’ve created a monster,” Draco sighs, pretending exasperation. “I thought you felt awkward talking about sex.”
Harry laughs. “I think the sex cured it.”
“I think regular sex is definitely a benefit we could include,” Draco says, “but I’m hardly going to fuck you over your desk in the middle of the work-day.”
Harry shrugs and extracts the memory, placing it gently in the Pensive. “Alright, but just so you know I’m all for it.”
Draco flips him the finger and lowers his face into the Pensive. Harry decides not to follow him in. He remembers it well enough, and he doesn’t need to watch Draco watch him.
Draco comes out of the Pensive looking furious. “I’m going to fuck you over your desk now,” he says, “and I don’t want a word about it!”
Harry laughs and he sees the corners of Draco’s mouth twitch in response. “Told you.”
The sex is quick and dirty, and like taken straight out of one of Harry’s daydream fantasies. Draco fucks him in determined thrusts, his hand on Harry’s cock the entire time. Harry’s orgasm builds quickly, and he struggles to hold back before remembering that this isn’t a scene — he doesn’t need permission. He comes with a strangled groan and relaxes into his desk while Draco fucks him to completion, loving the feeling of being fucked while he’s over-sensitive and sore.
When Draco pulls out and casts a cleaning charm over them both Harry hums and grins. “That was a great idea.”
Draco laughs. “It was a terrible idea and we’ll get fired if we keep doing it.”
Harry laughs too, pulling his trousers up and fixing his robes. “Honestly, I think we could have sex on Robarts desk right in front of him and still keep our jobs. We’re the best team he’s got.”
“That’s true,” Draco muses. “We’re about to close a decade-old case, after all.”
It’s easy, coming up with one of their ‘ingenious’ plans when they have a lead and a way in. They’ll get a phone registered to Harry’s Glamour-name, and his real address. The address of course, makes them bicker back and forth for half an hour.
“I don’t like it, him having your real address,” Draco insists.
“Matt knows where I live; it’s too risky to use another address.”
In the end Harry wins out, and by lunch they’ve got the phone ready. They lay a plan for the following day: how they’ll text Crabbe pretending Harry got fired and needs work. How he’ll put his Glamour on and show up to a meeting with Draco under his invisibility cloak and half a dozen Aurors on standby.
They spend the entire day together, planning and Harry doesn’t feel an emotional hangover at all. If that’s what he felt, he’d have to tell Draco, but it isn’t. He feels a gentle stiffness in his muscles, and a soreness in his backside that constantly reminds him of how they started the day. He feels a desperate yearning for the man sitting right in front of him. Harry wants to reach out and hold his hand while they work, he wants to ask Draco home for dinner. And it’s not an emotional hangover because it’s not a reaction to something they’ve done, it’s grief about what he can’t.
If nothing else, work keeps them busy, and Harry’s exhausted enough by the time he gets home that he goes straight to bed and falls asleep immediately.
They text Crabbe, or Crucio as he prefers to call himself, at noon the next day. Harry expects they’ll have to wait hours, if not days for a reply, but one comes in half an hour later.
‘Hello Henry, Matt did tell me about you and all of your … assets. I’d like very much to meet you and see for myself. I’ll join Matt at the club tonight. Meet us there. -C’.
“Well fuck,” Harry says, holding the phone up to show Draco the text. “I was really hoping I wouldn’t have to go back there wearing my Glamour.”
“It’ll be fine, I’ll be there the whole time,” Draco says. “And we’ve got six Aurors on standby, remember?”
Harry smiles self-disparagingly, “That's what I’m worried about, if I’m honest. I don’t want you or anyone else to see who I am when I’m under the Glamour.”
Draco places a calming hand on Harry’s knee, and it sends tingles through his entire body. “It’ll be fine. If any of the other Aurors ask we’ll tell them it’s an undercover identity we’ve created.”
Turning to stare at Draco Harry gapes, “You’d do that for me? Lie to the others?”
“Naturally,” Draco drawls, for a horrifying second sounding like Snape. “Slytherins look after our own.”
“Thanks,” Harry says, feeling a little overwhelmed that he’s one of Draco’s own now. Though, when he considers all the things they’ve done for each other over the years he might have been for a while without ever noticing.
Harry arrives at the club completely sober for the first time ever, his Glamour firmly in place and Draco’s breath on his neck. The bouncer gives him a kind smile when he enters, and Harry feels Draco slip through the door next to him, invisible under Harry’s cloak.
He makes it to the bar and orders his usual shots, figuring it’ll be suspicious if he doesn’t. He downs one, forcing himself not to survey the room. That’s what Draco is there for, Harry’s job is to act like he always does until Matt, and hopefully Crabbe, finds him. He drinks his other shot and orders two more. The miserable look of someone who’s just been fired comes easily to him when he thinks about Draco seeing this; Draco seeing the blokes passing by and grabbing at his arse without question, and Harry not reacting because he doesn't react, not when he’s Henry.
“There you are,” Matt says, his arms wrapping around Harry from behind. “Wondered if you’d show up after the text Crucio sent you.”
“You know about that, huh?” Harry asks, downing one of his shots when the bartender sets them in front of him.
“Yeah, I was meeting with him when you texted. Told him this is where we usually meet.” Matt’s hands sneak down to Harry’s arse as he speaks, and Harry leans into it. It’s too easy to be Henry, after all the time he’s spent doing it.
“Where is he then?” Harry asks, tilting his head to give Matt access to his neck.
“Upstairs in a private room,” Matt explains. “He doesn’t like to be around the ‘common people’ too much, apparently.”
Harry wants to snort, because no, of course he wouldn't. He wonders if Draco is close enough to hear what Matt’s saying, so he’ll know to follow. An invisible brush against his hand confirms that yes, Draco is right there.
“Should we go up then?” Harry asks, giving Matt a soft smile. “Can’t imagine he’s a man who likes to be kept waiting.”
Matt grinds his clothed erection against Harry’s arse and makes a frustrated sound. “He isn’t, or I’d have a go at you in the bathroom before heading up.”
“There’s always later,” Harry assures, but gives a sigh of disappointment for Matt’s benefit.
Matt groans again, but grabs Harry’s wrist and starts pulling him through the crowd. He walks into everyone who doesn’t move aside, and Harry wonders how he ever thought that was something to desire in someone. They make it to a staircase Harry’s never noticed before, and Matt pulls him up then and rushes him in through the first door in the corridor they reach. He slams the door behind them and it’s all happened so fast Harry isn’t sure Draco made it through the door too.
Harry waste precious seconds staring at the closed door, wondering if he should find some excuse to open it up again. Matt tugs his arm before he has the chance to decide, and he turns around to find himself face to face with Crabbe.
“Uhm, hi,” Harry says - staring wide eyed at the man. He needs to signal to Draco somehow that it’s really Crabbe, just in case Draco’s trapped outside the room. Then he needs to stall long enough for Draco and their team to get anti-Apparition charms in place.
“You must be Crucio,” Harry says, “I’m Henry.”
He holds his hand out, but Crabbe doesn’t take it. Instead he turns to Matt. “You’re right, we could get good money for him.”
“Right?” Matt says, fingers painfully tight around Harry’s wrist now. “He’s already a slut, so if we get him on drugs I’m sure he’d do whatever anyone asked.”
Ice runs down Harry’s spine. He has a sneaking suspicion that Crabbe isn’t just in the Muggle world to traffic drugs, but people too.
“What?” he asks, looking between Matt and Crabbe with huge eyes. He’s not entirely sure how much of his fear is acting and how much is real. Draco is close, after all. He’ll keep him safe.
“I have people lined up who’d pay good money for you,” Crabbe grins, but his eyes stay cold. “Maybe not quite the job you had in mind, but you’ll be fed and fucked on a regular basis.”
Harry struggles against Matt’s grip, but he only tightens it.
“Matt, what’s going on?” Harry asks, though by now he’s certain he knows. He pushes as much hysteria into his voice as he can. “You’re not going to sell me to some creepy old bloke to be kept in a basement, are you? You’re joking, right?”
Harry freezes when Crabbe pulls out his wand. They’d assumed he wouldn’t use magic, not in front of people he thought to be Muggles. Fuck, what if the anti-Apparition charms aren’t up yet? He could side-along Harry to fuck-knows-where.
“What’s that stick?” Harry asks, praying that Draco can hear him through the door. He’s not in the room, he can’t be or he’d have brushed against Harry by now to let him know. What if Crabbe put spells on the door? What if Draco hasn’t heard anything?
Crabbe walks closer, and Harry struggles against Matt’s grip. He should get his wand out too, he should do something, but if Crabbe sees his wand he might Apparate out in a second, and they’ll have lost him.
“This is a wand,” Crabbe says. “It’s the reason you’re going to do everything I tell you.”
Inspiration strikes Harry, and it’s silly, but he has to let Draco know they need to act now. He scoffs at Crabbe. “Right, that’s a wand and I’ve got almonds growing out of my face.”
Crabbe’s hand is inches from Harry when he speaks, and the second his words are out the door explodes open. Crabbe and Matt turn to stare at the empty doorway and Crabbe raises a shield between himself and the door just in time to deflect Draco’s stunner. Harry acts fast, pulling his wand from the hidden pocket in his jeans and casting at Crabbe’s back. Not his finest moment, he thinks, but worth it when the giant man crumbles to the floor.
“Harry!” Draco shouts, and Harry turns to Matt just in time to see the fist heading for his face. Pain explodes in his jaw as he falls to the floor, only to jerk back because of the firm grip Matt still has on Harry’s wrist. Harry’s wand falls from his grip, and he has to blink hard to try and clear his head. Draco throws a stunner towards Matt, but it deflects off the shield Crabbe had raised.
Matt lets go of Harry and pulls a gun out of his jeans, pointing it at Harry’s head.
“Let go of the wand,” he tells Draco, just as the protective barrier crumbles under Draco’s onslaught.
Draco freezes, but doesn’t let go of his wand.
“Drop it, or I shoot. And not a word, I know how those things work.” Matt’s voice is cold, and through the haze of his throbbing head Harry suddenly feels afraid. Draco could be hurt, he could be hurt, all because Harry wasn’t quick enough. Because he didn’t think to consider Matt a proper threat.
Draco drops his wand to the floor and stares at Matt with disgust. Matt relaxes a little and points to Crabbe.
“How long until he wakes up.”
Draco doesn’t answer, just keeps staring at Matt who’s hands suddenly fly behind his back, held firm by invisible restraints. The gun falls to the floor, and Harry hurries to grab it, and scrambles to get his wand. Matt curses and Draco bends down to grab his wand, throwing a stunner at Matt too, almost as an afterthought as he takes firm determined strides to Harry.
“Told you that would be a useful skill,” he says, smiling at Harry.
Harry lets out a huff of laughter, and releases all his fear with it. They’re alright.
“Are you alright?” Draco demands, staring down at Harry.
Harry moves his jaw and winces a little, but manages to stand without falling over. “Yeah, just bruised. Maybe a tad concussed.
Draco casts a healing charm on Harry’s chin, and he feels immediately better. He casts another spell and the dizziness goes away too.
“Thanks,” Harry says. “Have you called the other Aurors yet?”
“They’re still working on the anti-Apparition wards,” Draco says. “I didn’t have time to call them in when I heard you say almonds. I just, er, acted.” He looks embarrassed, and Harry knows it’s about the breach of protocol. He should have called them before storming in.
“If you’d called them Crabbe would have side-alonged me to some perverts basement by now. He was inches away when you came in.”
“Good,” Draco smiles, “and it gives me time to do this.”
He walks over to Matt and casts Obliviate on him, standing with his eyes closed for several minutes while Harry makes sure neither Matt nor Crabbe is waking up anytime soon.
“There,” Draco says, grinning and looking very pleased with himself.
“What did you do?” Harry asks.
“I erased every memory he has of you, well of Henry really. Except the conversation you had on your sofa. And I gave him a false memory of what happened later, like we would have done if Henry was a legitimate undercover identity.
Harry laughs with relief, itching to reach out and kiss Draco. “So nobody at work will know about — well, Henry?”
“I hardly think it’s relevant to the case,” Draco smirks. He walks over to Crabbe and flips him over with his boot. “Now let’s call the others in to arrest what really should have ended as a stain on a dirty mattress somewhere.”
Back in the office they get plenty of back-slaps and congratulations on their catch, Draco accepts it all gracefully and they’re halfway through the Auror offices before he realises Draco is subtly moving them in the direction of their private office. When Draco closes the door behind them ten minutes later he immediately grabs Harry’s face and turns it side to side to study it.
“Are you absolutely sure you’re alright?” he asks, looking for any sign of damage.
“Perfectly,” Harry smiles.
“Emotionally too? Fuck I can’t believe how low humans can sink, shitstains on society the both of them! Human-trafficking? I could murder them. In fact, I should murder them. I could do it too, you know? I could just add a little something to their food tomorrow and poof, no more. And nobody would catch me, because everyone in this office is a complete moron. Well, except maybe you — you’d obviously know since I’m telling you all about it.” Draco paces the office as he rants, and Harry stares at him, fondness growing in his belly. “So you’d have to be my accomplice, or I’d have to escape the country. That could work I suppose, though I —,”
“I love you,” Harry says. The words escape him entirely without his permission, but now that they’re out they feel so good he refuses to take them back.
“What?” Draco says, voice high and eyes huge with surprise.
“I, uhm, I love you,” Harry repeats. “I know you don’t — I just, I can’t help it. I love you.”
Draco frowns. “No you don’t. It’s just the rush of catching Crabbe, and the sex. You’re confused, that’s all.”
Harry laughs, because of course Draco would think he knows best how Harry feels. “I’m really not. I’ve been in love with you for years, if I’m honest. I just didn’t want to admit it. Drove Hermione out of her mind.”
Draco keeps staring, mouth open and eyes wide and looking less put together than Harry’s ever seen him. “You — you love me?”
“Yes,” Harry says, smiling sadly at Draco. He hopes this won’t be the end of them being partners, or the end of his benefits.
“Fuck!” Draco groans, “Do you know what this means? It means we’re the office idiots. I can’t believe this!”
Harry opens his mouth to ask what the everloving fuck Draco is talking about, but Draco steps closer and pulls him into a kiss before he has the chance. Harry startles, but doesn’t waste any time in putting his hands around Draco and pulling him closer.
He’d imagined them kissing many times, and it had always been fast and angry, all teeth and fighting for dominance. It’s nothing like he’d imagined it would be. Draco kisses him softly, their lips slotting perfectly together and making Harry’s skin tingle all over. Draco hums into the kiss, running his hands up and down Harry’s back, reaching up to rest his hands in Harry’s hair. Harry moans softly, trying to pull Draco impossible closer. When Draco finally pulls back they’re both breathless.
“Obviously, I love you too,” Draco says. “Just in case you hadn’t realised. We need to say these things out loud I think, being the designated office-morons and all that.”
“You do?” Harry asks. He’s grinning so hard his freshly healed jaw aches, and he doesn’t care. Draco loves him.
“For several years, yes,” Draco admits. “Hence the part about us being the true idiots all along.”
Harry laughs. “I can live with that, as long as I get to take you home from now on.”
“Yes, that sounds good, we should probably do that right away.”
Harry laughs at the expression of pure want on Draco’s face, giddy with the fact that Draco loves him back.
“Absolutely,” he agrees.
Draco takes him home, Apparating them straight into Harry’s bedroom and kissing him while they’re still breathless from the journey.
“Mine,” he breathes into Harry’s mouth, leaning down to bite softly at where Harry’s neck meets his shoulder.
“Yes,” Harry agrees, tilting his head to give Draco better access.
Draco undresses them both and spreads Harry out on the bed, kissing and licking everywhere he can reach, and then turning Harry over to give the same attention to the back of his neck, down his spine, alternating between kisses, licks and soft bites. Harry pants desperately into the pillow, but feels too content to beg for more. They have all the time in the world now.
When Draco finally fucks him, draping his body over Harry’s and thrusting in a slow, torturous rhythm Harry’s already fighting the urge to come. Draco’s hips twitch and fall out of rhythm and he knows he isn’t the only one who feels close and raw.
“Come for me, Harry,” Draco says, stroking firm hands down Harry’s back and reaching up to tug at his hair. Harry ruts against the bed, looking for more friction against his cock and finding he doesn't need any. He’s so close the feeling of Draco gently tugging at his hair is enough to push him over the edge.
He comes with a groan, clenching around Draco who curses and grabs Harry’s hand, intertwining their fingers as they come. They clean each other off with lazy spells after, and Draco wraps his arms tightly around Harry before falling asleep.
Harry lets himself linger in the space between asleep and awake, relishing in the feeling of comfort he feels in Draco’s arms. Instead of reaching out to the empty space in his bed he places his hand on Draco’s, safe in the knowledge that he won’t wake up alone.