Summary: In which Brian Kinney spends the entire week trying to get Harry Evans-Black, specialist consultant from London, to pay him a little attention. The unstoppable (irresistable?) force meets an immovable object.

Not connected to my other HP/QAF one-shots.

Disclaimers: I own neither Harry Potter nor Queer as Folk.

A/N: Justin wrote himself out of this entirely, so I'm thinking it's before his time. Maybe this is where Brian's obession with artists comes from?

Brian sat at the conference table listening to the Monday meeting, but his attention was more focused on a man sitting on the other side, a few chairs down. He was younger than Brian by at least five years. Rectangular glasses rested on a slightly crooked nose beneath black hair that was just a touch wild. The younger man's face was set in a light frown of concentration as he listened to the speaker at the front of the room. His hands took quick notes on a pad of paper, sketching out specific details. The hands were like the young man himself: sturdy, not overly elegant, but strong and quick.

His business name was Harry Evans-Black, and he had come highly recommended from several firms in England. He was here for a one-week stay to help expedite the planning on the new project. He was a technical artist and he would be drawing up the new plans over the course of the next week. Brian had only seen him for the first time that morning, but already he knew he'd be adding the British man to his long list. Even if Harry Evans-Black didn't realize it himself yet.

Brian neatly collected his items from the table as the meeting was called to an end and made his way to the other side where the man was still picking up his papers. He brushed against him, then picked the remaining papers off the table, quickly organizing them into an orderly stack. He handed them to the younger man with a disarming smile.

"Brian Kinney," he said by way of introduction.

The younger man remained very cool, Brian thought, only raising his eyebrows as he accepted the papers. "Harry Evans-Black."

"Of course," Brain said. "Our star consultant. Everyone is very excited to see your work. Should you need any information about the company," he said, sidling closer, "please feel free to come to me. I'd be happy to help you personally with any problems."

There was a quirk to the Evans' mouth that Brian couldn't identify, but he merely nodded politely. "Thank you. That's good to know."

"I have a feeling we'll be seeing a lot of each other this week. I look forward to it," Brian said with a smirk and walked out of the room.

Brian thought the meeting had gone quite well. As a seasoned businessman used to hiding in the ranks, he could spot a straight man from a mile away, and European or not, Evans-Black was certainly not batting for the other team. Since the man was going to be working with them for a week, Brian didn't see the need to move things along too quickly, but he was pleased with himself when he managed to secure a spot in a private meeting with Evans later that afternoon. He arrived early and made several useful contributions to the discussion. And every time his boss and the staff artist looked the other way, he made sure to lock eyes with artist across from him. They were a rich emerald colour behind the dark frames, and they narrowed every time Brian caught them. He didn't mind. A little attitude in the office only meant more fun once they were in private. When the boss left for his next appointment, Brian watched the staff artist hurry back to his department. He waited patiently as Evans carefully put his sketches in order and packed away his pens. The dark haired man glanced up at him as he leaned on the edge of the table.

"Can I help you with something?" Evans asked.

"Nope, I was just thinking I could help you find your way back to your office," Brian said.

"That's quite all right. I already know the plans," the other man replied, taping the papers he held. He smiled slightly and Brian was pleased to note that it was flustered and uncertain.

"Still, I think I should," he persisted.

Evans didn't respond, but he did turn and start walking toward his office. With a smirk, Brian followed, hands in his pockets and just a few steps behind. Close enough, he thought, to really interfere with the guy's personal space, but too far away to make conversation comfortable. His smirked widened when Evan's finally stopped in the middle of the corridor to wait for him. He walked confidently along side the Englishman until they reached the hallway that held his office.

"You know," he said, leaning in, "I know a club downtown. I think you might really like it. I can get you the best deal in the house."

He watched the younger man swallow as he leaned back. "Thanks, but no thanks. I'm not interested."

"Oh really?" Brian said. "I think you just need a chance to relax. I can help."

Evans frowned below his dark hair. "If you remember, your boss just gave me a lot of extra work to do tonight. And I'm not interested." He pushed away from the wall and Brian walked to his office.

Brian blinked, but he really didn't mind a bit. He could always pick up some twink at Babylon tonight. And he was looking forward to cracking Harry Evans-Black this week. It looked like it was going to be a fun challenge.

Tuesday turned out to be surprisingly busy, which meant that Brian didn't have a chance to look for Evans until late afternoon. He was looking forward to his second chance to rile the man up and convince him to unwind. He found the man sitting inside his temporary office, reviewing sketches. The British man looked mildly surprised to see him standing in the doorway.

"Mr. Kinney? Can I help you with something?"

"Not at all, Mr. Evans," Brian answered smoothly. "I just wanted to see if there was anything I could do for you."

"It's Evans-Black, if you don't mind," the man replied looking a little put-out.

"Mr. Evans-Black," Brian tried, rolling the name out on his tongue. "That's a mouthful. How about I call you Harry instead? You can call me Brian."

He imagined he could hear Evan's teeth grit from his position behind the desk, but he counted on the man being too polite to call him out. The younger man didn't seem to let much affect him, but Brian was determined to keep working until he got what he wanted. He stepped closer and leaned on the desk, taking in the newest drafts there. Evans, or rather, Harry began arranging them into some sort of order.

"It looks like you've made a lot of progress," Brian said, perusing the drawings.

"Yes," Harry said. "To be honest, I was just wrapping things up for the day. If you don't mind…" He pulled a paper out from under Brian's hand.

"That's a shame," said Brian. "I thought I could help you with the details. What do you say you join me for a drink, and we can discuss it."

Harry just looked at him straight on, a hard look in his eyes, but an amused twist to his mouth. "Actually, I have dinner meeting that I'm afraid I can't miss."

"Afterwards then."

There was definitely an amused look on the other man's face. "It's going to be a long dinner. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to use the loo."

Brian frowned as Harry walked past him, but it didn't stop him from following the man. He didn't stop when the man walked into the toilet, obviously expecting to be left alone. He followed the man inside, walking right up to the urinals as the Harry unzipped his fly. Brian waited patiently, ignoring the look Harry gave him. He of course didn't hesitate to check out the man's crotch, comparing absently and ranking him a bit above average. Harry did a good job of ignoring him and went about his business.

Brian stared at the man's profile appreciatively as he said, "You know, I'd hate for you to leave without really getting the chance to enjoy yourself."

Harry looked sideways at him as he zipped up his fly. "You should know that I'm in a relationship."

Brian shrugged. "Easy come, easy go. That's the way the world works." He stepped a little closer.

"A serious relationship."

"Does it look like I mind?" Brian moved forward and pressed himself along Harry's side, his own hard cock between them. "Sooner or later, everyone comes with me." His hand slid across the man's ass as he trailed his mouth up the length of Harry's neck and into the warm, black hair.

"Do all the employees here specialize in harassment, Mr. Kinney, or just you?" Brian could feel the Brit's voice rumble against his chest as he spoke. An arm was pushing on his chest, but he didn't let it stop him.

"You don't think you're being harassed. If you did, you would have reported it," Brian said confidently. "I'm just here to make sure you enjoy your stay." One his hands closed around a cock, above the layers of clothes. Harry twitched and broke away from his grasp.

"I really do have a dinner appointment to keep," the younger man said, a bit breathlessly. He was halfway out the door before Brian could catch him. But Brian wasn't about to let him have the last word. He made it to the doorway before Harry had disappeared from sight.

"Sooner or later," he called out.

Harry Evans-Black didn't turn back, or even try to argue. He hurried down the corridor without another word. Brian pushed himself back into the bathroom with a frustrated growl, once again left to deal with his own problem.

Wednesday found a very frustrated Brian Kinney plotting at his desk. He had gone to the clubs the night before, wandering in and out of the back rooms, and he'd even brought one of the little twinks home with him, but none of it satisfied his itch. And he definitely had an itch, one that could only scratched by Harry Evans-Black. He was irritated the man hadn't caved yet. He was Brian fucking Kinney. This never happened to him. He was determined to make sure it didn't continue. That was why he was pleased to find that he'd be sitting in on two meetings with the artist that day. When the time came, he walked into the conference room with a smile on his face. Harry was already there and busy in conversation, but Brian made sure to sit at the man's right elbow, where he'd be impossible to ignore.

The British man did a pretty good job, despite the fact. It wasn't till the after the meeting ended that Brian had a chance to do more than lean in.

"How was your dinner meeting last night?" He squeezed Harry's thigh.

The man's mouth turned in a private smirk. "It was quite…satisfactory," he said. He also removed Brian's hand from his leg.

"I find that hard to believe," Brian said with a frown as they stood up to leave.

"Well, this may surprise you, Mr. Kinney, but my world does not revolve around you," said Harry. He was interrupted by the one of the staff artists bringing his attention to their newly detailed sketches, and the two of them left the room before Brian could say anything else. He watched them walk away, talking busily, and it made him all the more determined to do better at the next meeting.

Brian spent most of his afternoon with clients, doing his best not to think about the annoying twink who kept blowing him off in entirely the wrong way. When he returned to the conference room, he didn't even have a chance to get Harry's attention. Apparently disagreements in the art department meant that very little had gotten done that afternoon. Everyone was tense now that they were behind schedule. Brian knew better than to try his chances and stuck to business. He didn't even harass the man as he left, instead following behind a group of artists to the man's office. He waited, leaning against the wall until all the other artists left one by one. He then waited approximately a minute more before stepping up and knocking gently on the door. He waited for the terse, "Come in!" before he opened it.

The artist's face darkened as he glanced up to see Brian in the doorway.

"Go away, Kinney. I don't have time to deal with you this afternoon," Harry muttered, looking down at his plans once more. Brian ignored him and sidled over to the desk. He looked over the plans Harry was working on, leaning in close.

"I see why you're having problems," Brain murmured. "This part is a mess."

"Oh, thanks," Harry replied nastily. "You're lot aren't helping at all. You call me in here, all the way from England, and ask me to do my job, and now that I'm giving you my professional opinion, your artists go poking holes in my designs. I know that some tweaking and corrections are to be expected, but this is ridiculous." As he spoke Harry became more agitated, until at the end of his little speech he pushed the chair back from the desk and threw up his hands.

Brian watched amusedly, but kept his comments to himself. Harry had proven that he was more than capable than keeping up with Brian's snark, so the brunet had decided to see how he'd deal with unexpected kindness. He figured he could keep it up long enough to at least unbalance the artist, leaving Brian to slip in through the back door. So to speak.

There was a sudden knock and the door was being opened the next second. It was the boss poking his head in, and he frowned as he took in the sight of Brian leaning over Harry at the desk.

"Kinney—what are you doing here?" he asked.

Brian straightened and smiled smoothly. "I was just helping Mr. Evans Black with the project. Since I work directly with our clients, I thought I could offer a new perspective."

The boss looked at them for another moment before nodding. "Good idea. We need someone to get this project moving forward."

Harry looked properly apologetic. "I'm sorry for the delays. Obviously, the art department and I have gotten our wires crossed, but I think we really sorted things out at the meeting."

"Glad to hear it. We need those plans finished as soon as possible so we can get started on the project." He shot Brian one more long glance, and then he was gone, shutting the door behind him. Brian circled around behind Harry's chair and rested his arms on the back.

"Great, one more thing to worry about," Harry sighed, scrubbing at his face with his hands.

"Oh, don't take it too seriously," Brian said. He ran his hands up the younger man's arms and then across his shoulders. "This always happens when the deadline comes up. The artists come up with a final draft, the boss hates it, and the artists spend the next two days scrambling to fix. They're just bitching because they're not used to having to defer to a professional. Especially not one with your skills."

Brian dug his thumbs into either side of Harry's spine as he spoke the last word, twisting his fingers against the tight knots he found there. He bent his head close enough to smell the man's shampoo and took a deep breath. His hands continued to work on Harry's back, flexing against the tight muscles. When the artist pushed back in his chair, sighing frustratedly, he eased up.

"Sometimes you just need to take a step back from your work," Brian murmured. "Your goals might seem clearer."

"Yeah, I can guess exactly what you want me to step back into," Harry said, with a rough laugh. He shook his head and sat up straighter. "Now, I already told you—I don't have time to put up with your games today. Please leave me alone so I can finish my job."

Brian stood his ground. "I'm only saying that you look like you should relax. Get a cup of coffee and take a break."

Harry diligently ignored him as he selected a pencil from the desk. Brian leaned back in and began rubbing soothing circles with his fingertips

"Doesn't your boyfriend ever do this when you get home from work? You have such a demanding job…I would hate to think that he's not taking care of you." Brian knew he was pushing his luck, but he didn't think there was much more he could do. Evans had won this round.

"Why are you still here, Kinney?"

"I just want to give you a hand, Harry," Brian said innocently.

Harry barked out a laugh. "You've made that blatantly obvious. Now shove off, before I call your boss to discuss the sexual harassment policy."

Brian decided to bow out gracefully. He could feel Evans patently not watching him, so he put on his best swagger. He made sure to shut the door the door behind him in a way that wouldn't offend even the most tender artist's ears.

Tomorrow, he thought, I'm going to kill him with kindness.

On Thursday he started his campaign early, arriving before his usual time and heading straight for the coffee shop. He ordered one for himself (no sugar, no fat) and one for his quarry (no sugar, but a nice dose of cream). While he was waiting, he scrolled through his event calendar, trying to decide the best moment to ingratiate himself with his conquest. He grabbed the coffees and headed for the door without looking up. At the same moment Harry happened to be pushing through the door, which was how Brian nearly spilled his drinks all over the man himself. He took a step back, trying to regain his mental balance as well as his feet. Luckily for him, the British man was already streaming out an apology.

"I am so sorry. I should have watched where I was going. Have you spilled your coffee? I'll buy you another if…" And that was where he trailed off as he stared up into the smirking face of Brian Kinney.

"Oh, uh, hi," Harry said, recovering quickly. "Fancy meeting you here." He flushed and seemed to decide that he had nothing else to say. Brian tugged him outside as another customer tried to push his way inside.

"You seem more cheerful this morning," Brian said as he looked the other man over.

"Really?" Harry was trying to duck past him and into the shop, but Brian casually blocked his way.

"Yeah, you haven't glared at me once yet," Brian said, pinning the man with a look.

"I've barely seen you this morning, so…" Brian kept staring at him until the little twink trailed off. Harry's face reddened under his look, but he added, "And not that it's any of your business, but I ended up taking your advice and…relaxing last night. So yes, you could say I'm a little more cheery this morning."

"And you didn't call me? I'm offended," Brian murmured.

"Well, there may have been a mention of you, but only about the size of your ego, so don't flatter yourself."

Brian smirked. "Sure it was. What do you say we walk and talk? We should probably be heading to work," Brian said.

"Oh, well, I wanted to get a cup of coffee, to get a good start this morning, so…"

"I already got one for you," Brian replied, holding out the one cream, no sugar and ushering them down the street. Harry was looking from his face to the disposable cup, his mouth hanging slightly open. "I don't usually go for all that lesbo care and share, but you were obviously stressed yesterday, so I thought maybe a good cup of coffee would start you off on the right foot," Brian said with a smile that could sell saltwater to a sailor.

They were just inside the doors. Harry had stopped dead even as his hand closed around the cup. His eyes searched Brian's face and then a smile twisted the corner of his mouth. He stepped back, taking the coffee with him.

"You are really trying to get into my pants today," he said. It wasn't even a question, despite his incredulous tone.

"Yeah, that's my plan," Brian said carelessly, giving the man a full once-over with his eyes.

Harry gave him another long look before turning away.

"Well then, you should know I prefer blonds," was all he said as he left.

He sipped the coffee as he walked, never looking back. He was walking just fast enough that Brian would have to take long strides if he wanted to catch up with him. Not that Brian was really trying to. Instead he was watching that fine ass sway back and forth in front of him. That was why he missed the artist's eye roll as he slid into the elevator just before the doors closed in Brian's face.

Brian kept up his campaign, showing a kinder face to get closer to Harry. He went so far as to rebook an appointment with a client and get himself added to the artist's presentation. Later that afternoon, Brian helped Harry arrange posters and set up the presentation at the front of the room as the other men milled about, chatting before the meeting began. He planned to make the most of this opportunity: by the time their presentation was finished he wanted to have the artist eating out of his hand. Harry was already relaxed enough that Brian could stand a little too close with any comment. He enjoyed the light flush that crept into the top of those cheekbones every time he let his fingers slide a little too far while they arranged the sketches. He made sure to reach for a pen at that the exact same moment as the artist and casually let his fingers brush against the supple wrist. The pink in the man's cheeks grew brighter and Brian concealed a smirk. As they made their presentation to the group, Brian stood as close as he could and leaned in whenever he got a chance. It was worth it to watch the twink squirm. Brian could tell he wasn't used to having to conceal himself in public, at least not in the business world, and he loved it. He entertained the image of fucking the man on his desk loud enough to piss off the neighbors, or maybe against one of the company windows so anyone and everyone could see. He didn't think he could make it happen that night, but maybe the next day or on the weekend before the man's flight home. The colorful images certainly made the meeting pass faster.

When everyone's attention was focused on the other the end of the room, Brian shifted closer and gave the Brit's ass a hard squeeze. He almost laughed out loud when the man jumped. The next second he was swallowing a grunt as a foot stamped down hard on his toes. He darted a glance at the shorter man to find him smiling serenely before he took a step away. They both turned their full attention to the group as a question was directed to them. The meeting slowly drew to a close.

Brian was sure that he had finally made the right impression on the visiting artist, and he was damn sure he would finally have that hot ass in his bed tonight. This preconception was probably responsible for his whole-hearted surprise when the little twink packed up his briefcase, slapped another man on the shoulder as congratulations for a day well done, and then waltzed his way out the door with a mischievous smile plastered on his face.

"So, you're saying that you—the Brian Kinney of Liberty Avenue—couldn't get this guy to give it up. Jeez." Ted took a sip of his coffee as he shook his head. "What is the world coming to? Did you see him this morning?"

"No, I couldn't. I was meeting with new clients all morning. This is the first break I've had."

Brian sat eating lunch with Ted, Michael, and Emmett, telling them his horror story of the week. Emmett was looking sympathetic, while Michael, who had heard pieces of the story at Babylon, looked like he was going to laugh.

"You know, Brian, you've had this coming to you for years," Michael said in between chuckles.

"Shut up, Mikey."

"Are you giving up?" Emmett asked.

"Hell no. That little twink will be sucking my dick by this time tomorrow. I'm gonna leave him alone for the afternoon so he can finish this project without any more interruptions. By then he should be ready for a little stress relief, so I figure I'll take him to Babylon. A few drinks, a little dancing, and that ass," Brian smirked at his friends, "will be mine."

Mikey was shaking his head at the brunet's antics when Ted stopped eating and stared, then hastily nudged Brian. A tall blond was striding toward their table. He was wearing an expensive casual suit with black, cream, and pale blue in all the right proportions. He stopped beside their table and surveyed the group, ending with Brian.

"So you're the one who's been harassing my husband this week."

As if on cue, three heads swiveled to look at Brian who straightened and set down his flatware.

"Ah, excuse me…?" For a split second, Brian's mind flipped through the twinks he had messed around with that week, that guy in the office he had been eyeing up, but the newcomer's accent gave it away without a doubt.

"At the advertising firm. You've been keeping my husband from finishing his work properly." The man looked him up and down, a slight sneer on his lips.

"I don't have any idea what you're—"

"Of course, I should probably be thanking you. After all, he's hurried home every night, desperate to fuck. I thought this business trip would be boring—I imagined we'd order take away at night when he came home too tired to hold his head up, have a cuddle on the sofa and go to bed early. I'm happy to be proven wrong. Thanks to you, he can't keep his hands off me."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Brian smiled smoothly.

"Cut the game, Kinney." The look the blond gave him was a sleek as his suit. "Entertaining as this week has been, I'm here to tell you to keep your hands, and all other body parts, to yourself."

"So you came along on this trip just to be a guard dog for your boyfriend? You're here to protect him from big scary men with big scary—"

"Husband," the man corrected. "I'm here to protect him from himself. Harry's willing to put up with a lot of shit from people he has to work with. I'm not."

Michael and Ted were gaping at them from the other side of the table, while Emmett was following the conversation like a tennis match. For his part, Brian was starting to get angry. He fucked twinks every day and none of them or their boyfriends had ever had the audacity to stalk him to a personal lunch and tell him off for being himself.

"Well, I'm sorry I've disturbed your happy little family, but it really isn't my fault. Did you know your husband doesn't wear a wedding ring? There was no way for me to know."

"Of course he doesn't, not in this country. You lot would ask too many stupid questions. That doesn't change the situation at all."

"That's a pretty convenient excuse," Brian frowned. "Are you worried your man might slip? Maybe take a little from both sides?"

"My Harry?" The blond scoffed. "He's loyal to a fault—likes to see things done in the proper way. He would cut off his own hands before he let them wander into your trousers. And every time you make a move, he hurries home to me a little faster than the day before. I'm just here to let you know, for your own sake—leave him alone. He's already warned you several times. Now I'm warning you. Harry Evans-Black is off limits."

The blond turned on his heel and strode away, never looking back at their table. Brian stared open-mouthed after him until Ted spoke up.

"Guess that plan backfired."

Brian's mouth shut with a snap. Michael looked like he wanted to make a joke and Emmett was staring after the blond with something like stars in his eyes.

"Stupid little twink," Brian muttered as he picked up his fork. Michael giggled again and Brian kicked him under the table.

"Shut up, Mikey."

It was a completely calm and collected Draco Malfoy who strode through the company corridors as if he owned them, not stopping until he reached a certain office. Rapping his knuckles confidently on the door, the blond entered when he heard a voice reply. Harry's surprised smile greeted him from the desk as he shut the door firmly behind him. He made his way over to his lover before the other man could do more than push back the chair. Draco leaned in, drawing Harry into a kiss and didn't let go until they were both gasping for breath.

"Hello," he murmured, still holding Harry's chin and looking into his eyes.

"Hello," Harry muttered back, looking a bit dazed.

And then Draco was pushing the chair back further with a muttered transfiguration spell. He straddled Harry's thighs and pulled his lover into another kiss, bringing their bodies close. When he rolled his hips, Harry groaned and pushed back.

Draco disentangled himself enough to regain his breath and focus on Harry's face. Harry was panting heavily, hands clutching the back of Draco's shirt.

"Has you new friend stopped by today?" Draco asked seriously, not bothering to stop the movement of his hips.

"Wha-? No," Harry said, looking confused at the line of questioning, as he tried to thrust up against Draco.

"Good," Draco said fiercely and leaned in to recapture Harry's mouth.

When he broke off their kissing a third time, Draco slid off Harry's lap. He had sunk to his knees and was working on Harry's trousers when the dark haired man thought to ask, "Why are you here?"

"Just making sure your new friend isn't going to bother you today and stop you from getting your work done."

"Draco." Harry's voice took on the tone that meant he was sure to be irritated, so Draco worked faster. "I won't—nngh, that's nice—I won't get any work done with you bothering me either."

"It's only a quickie, Harry," Draco answered. "A little something to get you relaxed and help you focus on your work. After we're done, I'll go sit over there with my reports, or if you like I'll go out and get a coffee. Whichever distracts you the least. And then when you're done, I will present the plans with you as your," he paused for effect with a smirk that made Harry groan and a twitch go through his whole body, "business associate and professional manager.

But for now, I want you to stop thinking about plans and focus on this." Draco gave him a squeeze and smiled as Harry shuddered.

His smirked returned as he caught Harry's eye. "I told you I wouldn't get bored on this trip."

And that was the last thing he said before he decided to put his mouth to better use.

A/N: I started this last summer and decided to put the finishing touches on it. I'm not sure that Harry should have put up with Brian's antics, but he just started flirting with him as I wrote it, so I thought, why not?

Also I'm considering another chapter to this-let me know what you think.