Title: Hired Help
Author: sdk
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing/Characters: Harry/Draco
Rating: R
Length/Word Count: Drabble, 100x11 (err…got a bit carried away)
Warnings/Content: Masturbation, voyeurism, implied sex
Summary: Draco's desperate. So desperate he calls on Harry Potter for help.
Notes: Written for draco100's prompt "Hired Help" (yes my title is so very creative). Unbeta'd so please forgive and point out any typos/errors. Thanks! <3
Disclaimer: The following is based on fictional characters I don't own doing fictional things in a fictional world I did not create. No copyright infringement intended.


Hired Help

Draco opened his door to the last person he ever expected to set foot on his property. Again, he reminded himself, but quickly shook his mind free of that particular train of thought. He was about to ask Potter what he was doing there when he noticed the man's t-shirt embedded with Loony's Landscape and Lawn's logo. De-Gnoming the friendly way! Nargle removal is our specialty! scrolled across his chest in big loopy letters.

“You're the gardener?”

“Curse Specialist, actually. You owled for an estimate?”

Draco frowned. But he was desperate, so he gestured Potter toward the gardens.

~

They spent an hour walking around the property where once flowers bloomed, but now there were only dead limbs and blackened soil.

“Voldemort?” Potter asked and Draco nodded swiftly. “And nothing has grown since?”

“No. I thought maybe once he was gone—thanks for that, by the way,” Draco fumbled and for a moment, Potter looked embarrassed.

“Er, anytime. I guess.”

“But still—the soil—nothing grows.” Draco shifted his weight and sighed with relief once Potter turned away to study a dead shrub. He didn't know why he was acting like such a first year tripping over his tongue.

~

Potter bent over and Draco was ashamed to note that his first desire was to check and see just how well Potter filled out his denims. As soon as the thought arrived, his eyes travelled down the curve of Potter's back as if drawn by an invisible magnet. He was in the middle of a Dark Lord-cursed garden, hoping beyond hope that Potter could help him out (and oh how that rankled), but all he could think about was ripping those denims down and shoving his tongue inside Potter's arse.

“Definitely dark magic,” Potter said.

Must be. Draco agreed.

~

"… but it's more an echo."

"Mmmhmm," Draco replied though he heard nothing Potter said. He was too busy wondering how Potter would feel clenched around his tongue...around his fingers...around his cock.

"Draco. My face is up here."

"Wha?"

Potter had straightened and now glanced over his shoulder, brows furrowed. But he didn't look offended and after a moment, he broke out a bemused smile.

Heat rose to Draco's face.

"Can you fix it?"

"More than likely."

"Fine. See that you do." Draco hurried back to the house, away from this echo of whatever-Potter-said that was clearly addling his brain.

~

Potter came to the Manor every day by nine. He disappeared for an hour at lunch, then left each evening around six. Not that Draco was keeping tabs on him for any other reason than making sure he was getting his galleons worth.

If Draco happened to spend an inordinate amount of time watching the way Potter's muscles flexed as he dug into the soil, sweat rolling down his back, disappearing beneath dirty denims, that was hardly Draco's fault. It was stupid Potter refusing to wear proper clothes and taking off his t-shirt when he worked that was to blame.

~

Wanking was normal and Draco believed in having a healthy sex life with one's self, but his current situation was approaching ridiculous. Within a week, he'd gone through a fresh bottle of lube and learnt the phrase 'wanking yourself raw' was not a merely a euphemism. Worse, he'd lost all self-control and could not manage to get to his bedroom before the urge overtook him. Fortunately, the Manor's windows were spelled for privacy. And that was how Draco found himself in the middle of the conservatory, cock in fist, watching as Potter brought a dead shrub back to life.

~

It was two weeks before Draco dared to speak to Potter beyond their normal hellos and goodbyes each time Harry came and left the Manor, but Draco decided it was time to get a progress report. He caught Potter just before he usually left for lunch and managed to eek out an invitation to dine with him inside.

“Merely to make sure my galleons are not going to waste, Potter.” Draco was ashamed to note his voice did not sound nearly as snide as he’d intended.

“Of course.” Potter smiled, somehow knowing and shyly all at once. And Draco got hard.

Fuck.

~

“I had to disable your privacy charms while I’m working.” Potter said it so casually just as he was about to take a bite of roast that it took a moment for the implications to sink in.

“What?”

“It’s made things...distracting.”

Draco’s face was hotter than a red brick oven but he drew on all of his Malfoy upbringing to keep his composure.

“And you didn’t deem fit to tell me this?”

Harry’s eyes were impossibly round and a vivid green that Draco particularly loved. One of the things Draco most hated about him.

“I was afraid you’d stop.”

~

House-Elf magic was handy when Draco needed an elegant meal prepared; equally when he needed that same meal vanished so he could spread Potter over his table instead.

Draco summoned his lube. Harry shrugged out of his trousers, his shirt already in a crumpled heap on the floor.

“You know how hard it is to concentrate when all I can think about is your cock?”

“Should I dock your pay?”

Harry grinned roguishly as he laid back, knees to his chest, an invitation if Draco had ever seen one. “I rather think you should give me a raise.”

~

The grounds were green again. Plants and flowers flourished where once there was only burnt soil and death. Potter really was quite good at his job. As loathe as Draco was to voice the compliment, he could admit to as much in the privacy of his own head.

The job had taken longer than expected, but that had more to do with their frequent extra long lunch breaks than anything else. But Draco still inspected the grounds thoroughly to make sure there wasn’t any spot that Potter might have missed.

No such luck.

“I guess that’s it then,” Draco murmured.

~

“You guess what’s it?” Potter said, sliding up behind Draco.

“Nothing,” Draco said. He turned and waved off his words. “I just meant that you’re done here. If you’ll come back to the house, I’ll settle up with you.”

“Give it to me next week,” Potter said.

“Next week?”

“I figured I should come check on things--make sure everything sticks. Weekly? Or more, if you want. We could even...” Harry said, angling his lips toward Draco’s ear. “Actually have a meal together. One of these nights.”

“That sounds acceptable.”

“Good. Tomorrow?”

Draco’s lips mirrored Harry’s smile despite himself. “Tomorrow.”




-Fin-







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