So this little number came to me in a dream, which was probably brought on by listening to The Drifters and Michael Buble and thinking of that fateful episode of Queer As Folk that tears at my heart, and I just had to interpret it into a fiction, so here we are! And a little back story to this, cause otherwise it might be confusing:

Harry, when just barely a teenager, left home to a place unknown by his friends and family. He came back 5 years later scarred, literally and figuratively. He is so traumatized that any human contact brings frightened reactions. He slowly opens up to his friends, but not as much as they would like to have happened. He doesn't talk about what happened when he was gone, but with such scars he wears with pride, his friends would rather remain ignorant.

Disclaimer: J.K. owns characters! The Drifters own the song Save The Last Dance For Me.

The dull roar of laughter and animate talking surrounded me in the brightly lit diner. I sat among cheerful friends, letting the infectious atmosphere circulate and improve my mood. My friends chatted amiably; I watched them all with a smile, most likely a foolish grin. I missed being home and times like these dearly. I listened in on the conversations, rarely giving my own input. I merely enjoyed being the audience and picking up on all things I missed in my absence. It had been almost two months since my return, and there were still changes I was ignorant of.

A sudden pressure on my knee gained a flinch in response. I looked down to see a hand shoot away. Looking back up, the owner of said hand gave me an apologizing look. I gave her a sad smile in return. I'd been jumpy since I came back, human contact of any kind triggering an immediate reaction. I unconsciously rubbed at the scar across my face, the deep groves reaching from my right temple and spanning over my eyebrow, nose, and ending on the bottom of my left cheek, just barely touching my jaw.

"You all right, Harry?" My bushy haired friend asked. She was always so worried. Her brown eyes showed the concern she held.

"I'm fine, 'Mione." I nodded, giving her a small smile. She turned back to her conversation, but not before giving one last apprehensive look. I switched my gaze to the window, zoning out in my own thought. I was lost in my head when I saw a flash of platinum cross my vision. I stood up with my hands on the diner table, watching the color intently. I could feel all eyes of my friends on me, but paid them no heed. I grabbed money from my pocket, enough to pay for every single person in that diner and their tips, and threw it on the table, murmuring something about being right back. I ran out the door and into the cold night. I saw the bright color turn the corner and quickly followed, rushing past crowds and weaving in and out of patrons, trying my best not to touch any. I could faintly hear my name being called over the thrumming of blood in my ears, but continued on.

I turned the corner and stopped, frantically searching out for the blond hair. Finding it no where in sight, I leaned back against the brick wall of a building, rubbing my face with my hands. My breathing was deep and echoed in the cup of my hands. I stayed there for a few moments until I felt a presence. I removed my hands and looked into brown eyes.

"I just thought I saw someone familiar. That's all, Hermione." I groaned, my voice was raspy from the chilling air I sucked down. She was a bit wary, but left it alone.

"Let's go, Harry." She cautiously touched my shoulder. My reaction wasn't as violent as the others, but nonetheless there. She frowned, "what happened to you, Harry?" I shook me head, beginning to walk in the opposite direction of the diner. My friends were following me at a slower pace, giving me my much needed space. I shoved my hands into my jacket pockets to hide from the fall weather. Soft music hit my ears and I realized I had entered the local park. The music must have been the band that usually played on Friday nights. I made my way to the stage, thinking some music would calm any nerves still rampant.

The band was playing a soft jazz tune, some couples making their way to the space in front of the stage to dance. My friends had caught up to me and some decided to join the dancing pairs. When the song faded to an end the audience applauded their joy. An upbeat, Big Band song started up, which I recognized to be 'Save The Last Dance For Me'. The couples started a sensual dance with swinging hips and matching foot and hand movements.

A hand reached out to me and grabbed my arm. I was too surprised to react and allowed myself to be dragged to the dance floor. A strong arm wrapped around my waist while a large hand grabbed my own and started a slow dance. I looked up, confused, into an unknown face of some handsome stranger.

"You looked like you needed some company." The mirth in his eyes fit well with his attractive features and the playfulness in which he danced. I followed into his smooth rhythm akin to that of the Latin style. His body was intimately close to my own and I was surprised as to why I had not flinched back in fear from his touch, but instead, swayed my body in tune to his. I could feel the eyes of patrons on us as we danced. It made me uneasy to have such attention turned onto me. The man only smiled, unashamed of his actions. When the song was close to an end, he bent down and whispered into my ear, "who will you save your last dance for?" I looked confused once more, but he ignored me and swung me out to arms length; the only connection we had were our hands. The song faded into the original, slower version and I felt his hand leave mine.

I would have left, if not for the new hand grabbing mine. I turned to snap my hand back, but I was pulled into a hard, warm body. The familiar presence caused me to seek out the face of my new suitor. I glanced up and gasped when silver eyes and blond hair invaded my vision. A smirk graced the beautiful features of this god like man before me. I took him in like he was a dream; his pale skin glowed in the light of the moon, the all black attire he wore making him seem even more godly. A few buttons of his shirt we undone at the top, revealing scar tissue around his neck and dipping into his chest.

"You better not be a dream." I whispered. He chuckled and twirled me around then brought me to his chest once again. I was dancing more intimately with this man than the one before, and while we obtained even more stares, I was ignoring every single one. My attention was for this man, and him alone. We moved together with practiced ease, him more graceful than myself; it seemed to last infinitely.

Towards the end of the song, he started to sing along with the lyrics: "Don't forget who's taking you home, and in whose arms you're gonna be. So, darlin', save the last dance for me." I was dipped low, only my heels touching the ground. "Save the last dance for me," was whispered in my ear, a light kiss placed right behind it. I closed my eyes and gave a slight shudder.

My eyes were still closed when I was righted up. "I don't want to wake up." I probably looked a fool, but this was too good to be true. I felt hands cup my cheek and jumped in anticipation rather than fright. A warm breath wafted over my face and I knew a pair of lips were only millimeters from mine.

There was the smallest bit of pressure on my lips, "you always were a fool." And my mouth was descended upon. The kiss was every part passionate. His lips molded to mine perfectly, every movement was right, his scent intoxicating me. He pulled away and I licked my lips, tasting him on them. I finally opened my eyes and gazed dazedly into his. He smirked and took my hands, leading me away from the crowd. I vaguely registered passing my friends, each with an exasperated expression due to my actions with a man they had no knowledge of. He took me to his car, opening the door for me. I slid into the leather seat waiting patiently for him to join me.

The ride couldn't pass fast enough but we eventually arrived at his home. He gracefully stepped out of his car and opened the door for me. I exited the vehicle and into his embrace. An arm slid possessively around my waist and led me to the front door of the home. Once the door was unlocked and opened, I turned to look at the gorgeous man I hadn't seen in some time; It had been too long, and I needed him. He stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame, and smirking down at me smugly with his arms crossed. I reached out and grabbed the front of his jacket, pulling him closer to me. My lips crashed onto his with a greedy force, needing the contact. He reacted with equal amounts of passion and more. It was a kiss meant to be dominated by him and I happily let his tongue overtake mine.

My hands were still entwined to his jacket while his were on my hips. He grinded into me and earned a groan. He replied to that with a bite to my lip and hefting me up by the thighs. I wrapped my slim legs around his waist and increased my grip on his clothing, turning the kiss more desperate. I heard the door shut before we started to move. Clothes were disposed of and left in a disarray around the house. We bumped into walls and doors while we made our way to his room. I was working on his pants when he threw me unceremoniously on the bed. I looked up at him; his usually arrogant features now mused and his self composure gone.

He grabbed the end of my pants and ripped them off, throwing them to the floor. I quickly made to take off my briefs, letting them join my pants. He had stripped himself of his own clothes, his scarred body visible for my liking, and was now staring at me hungrily. I returned the heated gaze, both of our chests heaving. I needed him. Now.

"Come fuck me, Draco." I husked out. Draco gained a feral look before crawling onto the bed. I was leaning up on the palms of my hands, his arms on either side of me, my face inches from his. His breath was mingling with mine and he moved his face closer.

"Say it again." If I hadn't felt the air enter my mouth, I wouldn't have listened to what he was saying. His words sent a jolt of excitement throughout me, setting my veins aflame with a newly ignited desire.

"Fuck. Me." I whispered with my lips touching his, bringing the bottom into my mouth. Draco growled and fully connected our lips. One of his hands went to the back of my neck, bringing us closer, the other tracing each line of my body as if remembering an old path. Both of my hands dove into his blond locks, reveling in the silky texture and pulling desperately.

The kiss stopped to allow air flow into our lungs. The hand traveling my body was now at my mouth, prodding to enter. I greedily took them in, lathering them up in saliva. Draco was groaning while he watched the attention I was giving to his appendages. He pulled them out but wasted no time in replacing them elsewhere. I yelped as both were roughly forced into me. He kissed my chest in apology and traced my many scars with his tongue, as if he had been the one to put them there. His mouth sought out my nipple and tempted the pebbled bud into the wet heat. He was now thrusting the fingers in with earnest, while I answered with wonton moans and impaling myself down to match the thrusts of his hand.

The hands and mouth left me, and before I could argue, I was flipped over onto my knees. I could feel rummaging going on in the drawer to the side and an aggravated grunt. I, myself, was getting impatient: "take me dry, I don't care! I just need you in me, now!" I couldn't believe I had said such words. I could hear the smirk coming from Draco as he spit into his hand and undoubtedly rubbed it over his cock. I was shaking with anticipation to be once again connected to this beautiful man. I placed my hands rightfully and steady as well as spread my legs to make room for Draco.

My eyes squeezed shut while I was penetrated by the thick girth. One of Draco's hands was on my hip, rubbing smooth, relaxing circles, the other mimicking on my chest. His own muscled torso was pressed into my back and I could feel the outline of the large scarred tissue expanding to the hip that was now fully connected to mine. Draco kissed the side of my neck before pulling out of me slowly and thrusting back in with fervor. I moaned out my appreciation along with my need for more. He took the clue and thrust more forcefully. I gave a sharp cry, exhilaration flowing through me. The hand on my chest left and gripped into my hair, pulling my head back to bring me into a harsh kiss. It was messy: lips barely made contact, tongues twisted together and slid across teeth and lips, saliva trailed down chins, and when lips did connect, they were bit on harshly till they bled and then were sucked on with ardor. It was every bit carnal and animalistic. I let my head fall forward, hanging above the bed. The thrusts shook me violently and rattled the bed.

"You look like a work of art." He was praising my scars once again, except they were the ones on my back. My mouth was open in the shape of an 'o', moans escaping in the form of breaths. I clenched my hands into the sheets finding it almost impossible to keep my hold up. My back arched into him, pressure arising in my groin. With a scream, I came all over the bed. My walls clenched around him, but he didn't let that hinder his powerful thrusts. When he did finally release into me, it was with a groan. We were sweaty and panting, our hips still connected and Draco still filling me.

"Again." I breathed out.

"As you wish." And I was flipped over, now on top of the gorgeous blond, my hands steadying themselves on his chest. The scar marring his features was glistening with sweat. I traced it and he gave me a thoughtful expression. It was gone and replaced with unbridled need at my next words.

"Fuck me raw, Draco."

Okay! Not one of my longest, but here it is. And if it seems a little fast paced, well, this is how it happened in my dream and I didn't want to add anything in that might add something unneeded. Hope it makes sense! Review, please!