Hello! Thanks for clicking on my story. Fanfiction (blasted thing) says that I can't post images for a 24 hour period because it wants to ostracise me and make me feel like a newbie. I've had my account for like 18 hours. I am so not a newbie.

Chapters, on average, will be over 3/4k+ and this story will almost certainly have light to heavy smut every chapter/other chapter. This is definitely a H/D romance and will start to be one from the 3rd chapter onwards. Next chapter is called Meeting Harry Potter as you could probably guess.

I hope you enjoy! Please follow, fave and tell me what you think :)

Rose xx

Smells Like Teen Spirit

Chapter One : Meeting Draco Malfoy

The sky outside was pale blue, beams of yellow bursting from the east as the sun rose; ever so gradual, almost reluctant. It was too early to be awake; to early to crave nicotine like a drowning person craved oxygen.

Draco Malfoy's chilling grey eyes opened and he yawned. It was five in the morning, according to the alarm clock on the Hilton Hotel bedside cabinet. There were loose arms draped around his naked body, hot skin flush and burning against his, and ... *snore* ... the gentle snores of Dean Thomas from behind him.

Draco smiled softly. He remembered the way Dean had thrown him on the bed yesterday and fucked him the hardest Draco reckoned he had ever been fucked. It was a shame that Dean was in the closet, so far back into the closet he was finding Action Man dolls from infancy.

He stretched and Dean loosened the arms around Draco. 'Dray,' he slurred sleepily as he looked up, eyes closed and warm breath fanning on Draco's face.

'Go back to bed. I'm just popping out for a fag,' the other man whispered softly. He kissed Dean's brown shoulder and then got out of bed.

The hotel penthouse was enormous and resided in Times Square, West Forty-Second Street. Of course Draco Malfoy would get the best penthouse in the whole of New York City. He was the most successful white, English supermodel in the whole world, perhaps.

Standing up, he stretched lithe, rippling muscles, illuminated by the corner of gold sifting through the window. Draco put on a silk robe, bare as the day he was born underneath, and grabbed his Camel cigarettes, ridiculously urban and hipster of him, before slipping outside onto the huge balcony. It was barely even a balcony, he decided, and was more like an extra lounge outside.

He roguishly ran a hand through tousled, silvery blond locks as he placed a cigarette between his lips and lit it with a clipper. The smoke sifted seductively through his body and he sighed in pleasure, effulgent eyes even more radiant due to the nicotine fix the cigarette was providing.

Draco turned on his phone and within seconds, was bombarded with alerts, messages and missed calls. He replied to only two of the forty four texts; one from his mother and the other from Severus Snape, his manager.

Just as he was about to turn his phone off and start another cigarette, he got a call. Draco sighed as he pressed ANSWER.

'Hello?' he asked, placing another Camel into his mouth and lighting it.

'Draco, you got my texts?' asked the bored voice of Severus Snape.

'Just replied.'

'Okay, well I'm flying over to France now to meet Karl Lagerfeld. He wants you to appear for Chanel Haute Couture in the Spring-'

Draco laughed. 'I refuse to appear on the runway with a watering can, Sev. You know me better than that.'

'Have you seen how much he's paying? Besides, he would certainly let you decide what you got to wear out of-'

'A selection that's just as ghastly.' Draco turned to see the balcony door opening, Dean appearing in all his glowing glory. 'Anyway Sev, I'll speak to you later. Don't tell Lagerfeld anything until I see you guys but I'm busy right now.'

Severus huffed on the phone. 'You're always fucking busy. I'll speak to you later then Draco. But at least stop turning your phone off. It's worrying-'

The blond man chuckled as he flicked his cigarette and exhaled. 'Bye Sev.' Slowly turning in his comfortable seat, Draco appraised the tall, darker man before him and instinctually licked him lips. Dean was beautiful: cropped black hair, smooth brown skin, prominent muscles dancing with each movement, each breath. He stood at least two or three inches taller than Draco's already tall six foot, three inch stature.

What was most important however, was that Dean Thomas fucked like a champ.

Dean fell into the seat beside Draco and leant forward for a smoky kiss. 'Urgh, you taste like an ash tray,' he laughed.

Draco smiled as he fiddled around with his deck for another cigarette. 'Did I wake you up?'

'A little. But it's fine I guess. I do need to leave in a few hours.' Dean started massaging Draco's shoulders, his seductive touch killing the younger man as he rolled flesh between his hands.

'Fuck, you're turning me on,' breathed Draco as he leant back, tilting his head to the side so Dean could kiss and suck his neck.

'Yesterday's party was awesome,' murmured Dean as his hands travelled lower, pinching the flesh of Draco's sides and stomach. The blond man moaned low and nodded.

'It was a very good party. The booze was good, the music was good,' then he broke off for a laugh, 'and I especially thought that the coke was marvellous.'

'Hmm, you can always rely on Luna to throw a great party with high coke.' The taller man stood up and insinuated himself between Draco's long, thin legs; manipulating the blond's body so it was pliant beneath his subtle ministrations. With soft, pianist fingers, Dean took out Draco's penis from the folds of dark silk and grinned when it hardened in his hands.

'You're mighty horny this morning,' Dean whispered against his lips, stroking his face with one hand and slowly awakening his shaft with the other.

'You know what that means,' slurred Draco, pushing down Dean's head so it was level with his crotch. 'Suck.'

Heat consumed him; wrapped around him like a suffocating blanket. He could barely breathe. Dean was so good at sucking dick.

'Fuck,' he breathed as he tangled a hand in thick, coarse hair. 'Good boy-'

'I'm not a boy,' laughed Dean as he looked up to stare at Draco with a purse of plush, wet lips. 'I'm older than you-'

'And I'm Draco Malfoy. I can damn well call you a boy if I- oh god,' he broke off, eyes squeezed shut as Dean swallowed him whole. 'If I-I w-w-want.'

There was chuckling against his penis and all he could bring himself to do was put his other hand in Dean's hair, hold his head and fuck his face.

'Oh god,' he panted.

oOo

Draco Malfoy had a brilliant life. His father was an aristocrat and his mother came from a family of ridiculously old money. He grew up an only, and thus very lonely, young boy. He went to Eton College until he was scouted at the tender age of thirteen. Suddenly, his whole life changed rapidly.

Draco was doing runway editorials, was meeting international figureheads of modelling like Naomi Campbell, Kate Moss and Mathias Lauridsen and unexpectedly, Draco Malfoy was an international supermodel.

He walked for Hugo Boss at fourteen, Versace at fifteen, fucking Gucci at sixteen; he was a millionaire and wasn't even twenty yet. He was the youngest English cover model for Vogue. Glamour magazine had called him the hottest man in the world. He was famous all across the world and yet, he was not very happy. He wasn't even a little happy.

Because his manager Severus Snape had fucking signed him on for Chanel Haute Couture.

'You do know,' Sev had said on the phone, 'that this is fucking Chanel. You don't turn down Chanel unless you're Naomi Campbell-'

'I'm Draco Malfoy! I'm fucking huge! I'm as good as-'

'Don't you dare,' laughed Severus. 'Don't you dare say you're as good as Naomi Campbell. No one is. Anyway, shut up and get on a plane as soon as possible. I need you to go to London. Karl Lagerfeld is coming over to meet you and a few other people on Friday.'

'Oh, but I just got back to NYC and you know I haven't been here for like a month. Can't you get him to come over here?' He was teasing and was already calling up room service to help him pack because Draco did not have time to waste on silly things like packing.

'Shut up,' laughed Severus. 'Leave as soon as you can. I'll come around to yours tomorrow.'

'Get me a ticket now then please, or send me a jet, I don't know. I'm in the Hilton Hotel.'

'Alright, I'll get someone to pick you up within the hour.' Severus sounded distracted; voice breaking as he stopped to do whatever it was he was doing, before he continued to speak. 'See you soon.'

'I'll see you later,' droned Draco before he ended the call, threw his phone down and turned just in time to see two maids enter his room.

'Mr Malfoy, sir. What would you like?' one of the maid's said in a thick accent.

Polish. Definitely Polish, he decided. The other one appeared to be Chinese or Filipino and had the smallest nose Draco had ever seen in his life.

He bit his lip and then shrugged. 'Pack my stuff, I guess. I've slept in all the rooms at least once so check each one.' He waved a hand dismissively, signalling that they should get to work and sat down on the sofa, cigarette readily perched in his mouth.

Running a hand through silky hair, Draco picked his phone up once more and opened Dean's contact profile in his phonebook. He really did fancy a quick fuck before he left for London...

London, his home.

I hope you liked that!

Supermodel Draco seems so hot to me. I can't wait until he meets Harry! I'll make sure it's worth it, I promise. Quick question: do you think I should include Crabbe and Goyle, or disregard their stinky Slytherin arses? A part of me is saying yes and the bigger, more important part is saying no...

Please tell me what you think! Enjoy the rest of your day! xx