Kristmas Wish Fulfilled for: twilightsorcery
From: A Wicked Watcher: softly_sweetly

Title: Working Late
Characters/Pairings: Harry/Draco; reference to Harry/Ginny and Draco/Astoria
Rating: NC17
Kinks/Themes Included: Infidelity, Semi-Public Sex
Other Warnings: None
Word Count: 1,700
Summary/Description: It was always the same excuse
Author's Notes: Thank you to F and N, who did the eleventh hour betas and held my hand.




"Where's Harry tonight?"

Ginny tipped the washing out onto the kitchen table, sorting the clothes into piles depending on whom they belonged to, and began to fold them as she answered her mother. "He said he was working late."


xXxXxXx


"Auror Potter, do you have a moment?"

Harry froze in the Atrium, the words – no, the voice – sending a shiver down his spine. It had been nineteen days. But he couldn't just drop everything and run, no matter how much he wanted to. Turning around slowly, Harry shifted the stack of parchment into his other arm. He kept his voice even, cordial, giving away no hint of emotion. "How can I help you, Draco?"

"I attended a legal conference last week in Washington; they had some interesting law enforcement policies which I thought may be of interest to you?"

Harry had been promoted quickly – too quickly, according to some of his many detractors – and it was no secret he wanted to make his mark on the Department or that he was researching enforcement policies used in other countries. Turning to his colleagues, he shrugged his shoulders, careful to keep every action nonchalant, relaxed. "Go on, we can finish this tomorrow."

They must have called goodnight, and Harry must have responded, but he wasn't aware of it happening. The walk across the Atrium felt like a mile, even though it was only a few metres.

Draco smiled at him, the gesture tight and fraught with tension. Harry couldn't remember when his life had become so stressful. "The notes are in my office."

Draco turned as though to walk away, and Harry couldn't wait any longer. The waiting was killing him, had been killing him slowly for the past nineteen days. Glancing around the Atrium confirmed they were alone, for the moment. Harry took the chance – the Atrium was rarely empty, even in the dead of night. Reaching his fingers out, he curled them around Draco's arm and pushed Draco into one of the little alcoves, behind the statue of some rich witch who had given the Ministry enough money to earn her own little shrine in the entrance area. If Draco was surprised he didn't show it, turning smoothly and stepping back into the shadows, making room for Harry in the dark with him.

The stack of parchment fell to the floor with a thump that seemed to echo forever, but Harry didn't care. His body was moving of its own accord, hands reaching up to snake into Draco's hair, down his back, along his arms, pulling him flush against Harry so their lips could meet. The kiss was rough and biting, raw and open as their teeth clacked, nipping each others' lips before their tongues met and twined together. Harry knew the kiss was desperate, lacked finesse, but he didn't want picture-perfect kisses; he wanted to crawl into Draco's body through his mouth, set up home in the warmth there and never leave. He could feel strands of his own hair breaking away under Draco's insistent fingers, Draco's other hand bunching Harry's robes, creating creases in the smoothly-ironed fabric.

And still it wasn't enough, Harry wanted to be closer. He could feel the cold stone wall under his knuckles, Draco's back pressed against it and Harry's hand trapped underneath it. The rough grate of the bricks on his skin was sharp and cold, a perfect counterpoint to Draco's mouth. Harry didn't want to pull away, didn't want to have to draw a deep breath, but his chest was aching, and he broke the kiss with a stifled moan.

"Anyone could find us here." Draco was right; they were in the shadows, but they were by no means invisible. Anyone working late, who decided to procrastinate by strolling around the statues, would see them.

And that could happen; the Ministry was never truly empty, never truly quiet and secluded. "I don't care."

He didn't, not really. Harry knew he should care, but he just couldn't. He should care that they were both cheating on their wives, that he was risking hurting Ginny to satisfy the urges in his chest that didn't comply with the life everyone else had prescribed for him, but he didn't. It was hard to care about anything other than Draco, especially when they were so close Harry could almost hear Draco's heart beating in his chest. But Draco was in the same position; they both stood to lose more than they could bear if they were found out. That made it okay, made the lying and the deception tolerable. Neither of them had to fear their spouse finding out, because neither of them would make their relationship public and upset the delicate balance they had. Maybe one day Harry would find it too hard to pretend to lead a straight life, but while he still craved his family and the comfort of his routine with Ginny, an affair was the only choice he could see. And what their wives didn't know, neither Harry nor Draco could hurt them with.

The near-silent crackle of their stubble brushing brought Harry's mind to the present, and he leaned closer to Draco, flattening his palms against the wall. The words were quiet enough that they were barely even words, but he knew Draco heard them. "I missed you."

It didn't need a response, not a verbal one anyway. Draco responded when he bit down on Harry's ear, hands flattening on Harry's back to push their bodies flush against each other. Truthfully, Harry had been pacing the Ministry all day, hoping to bump into Draco in a corridor. He'd even made his excuses for dinner, hoping he'd have a reason to work late. And now that his reason was right in front of him, Harry didn't know where to start. It felt too good just pressed against Draco, rolling his hips slowly, teasing rather than satisfying either of them.

"We don't have time."

Harry knew the words were coded. It meant Draco was expected at home. But Harry wouldn't, couldn't, just give up and go home. He needed something, if only to tide him over until their next stolen moments. "There's time enough."

Finding Draco's lips again with his own, Harry closed his eyes and willed the rest of the world away. There was only the two of them, somewhere far away, nothing real except their lips and their arousal. Harry rolled his hips in firmer motions, rubbing himself against Draco. He wanted the time to take everything slowly, but he needed resolution right now, and it felt like Draco was in the same situation. Harry could have come just like that, kissing and rutting against Draco like a fumbling teenager. It was only his own inability at cleaning charms that stopped him. Reaching one hand between them, his fingers brushed over Draco's, grabbing for Draco's trousers as he widened his stance to give Draco easier access to his own.

The first touch of his fingers on Draco's skin was electric, his fingers curling around Draco's shaft, warm and silky smooth. Harry could almost taste it. The thrill of excitement from their public dalliance made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, and Harry debated putting up privacy charms. But the added magic might only serve to alert security to them, and besides, Draco seemed content as they were, his hand moving steadily and expertly along Harry's shaft, up and down in a quick rhythm that Harry concentrated to match. Even if they had forever, it wouldn't be enough time to memorise every ridge and bump, every inch from the nest of curls at the base to the spongy, sticky flesh at the tip.

Harry couldn't breathe properly, his chest burning as his body tensed and flexed. He tore away from Draco's lips, burying his face in the crook of Draco's neck and breathing hard as Draco worked him. Harry sank his teeth into Draco's neck, sucking the flesh up, marking Draco even though he knew it was a pointless act, as his orgasm broke over him, washing through his veins as Draco's hand flew along his shaft. He lost his own rhythm, hand shuddering and shaking as he fought to bring Draco to the finish line too. He managed it, fingers getting sticky and warm as Draco slumped back against the wall, gasping for breath.

Harry wanted to stay there forever, but all he managed was a few blissful minutes before Draco was gently pushing him away. Harry didn't watch as Draco healed the mark on his neck. Age had made Draco pragmatic, and Draco sounded weary with every one of his years as he muttered, "We can't keep this up."

"I know. We'll... something will sort out." Harry had given the same false platitude before now, and he'd probably give it again. They knew what they were doing was wrong, but that didn't change their need, their sheer desperation, didn't prevent them crossing paths over and over again, orchestrating their entire lives around stolen minutes and snatched touches.

Draco's hand touched his arm, briefly, and their eyes met for the first time. Harry smiled, and the gesture was returned.

"I'll see you," Draco murmured, ducking out from behind the statue and into the bright lights of the Atrium, flushed cheeks the only hint of what they had done. Harry heard voices in the distance and bent to pick up his papers, slumping back in the shadows and waiting for the people to pass before he stepped out into the light, and his life resumed as normal.


xXxXxXx


"Where did you say Harry was?"

Ginny sighed, picking a blonde hair out of Harry's jumper and letting it fall to the floor. "He said he was working late."