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Maybe there was a better way, a more decent way. Only Draco hadn’t found it until today. He’d tried to find a better job. One that would make his father proud, that wouldn’t kill his mother if she knew. Only no one wanted to hire him, wanted to be associated with a former Death Eater. He doesn’t blame them, if he had a choice he also wouldn’t want to be associated with himself. Not after all he’d had to do just to stay alive. To earn some money to buy food and pay the rent of his little room in muggle London.
It isn’t like he didn’t try to get a job in the Muggle world when all his options in the Wizarding world had dried up. But they had wanted a social security number and a copy of his passport. And as a pure-blood wizard, he didn’t have those. He was never registered when born. His parents had never seen the need for it. He was in the wizarding records, why would the Muggles need to know he excited. If had been up to them Draco would have never interacted with them for his entire life.
How wrong they had been. How wrong Draco had been. Disillusioned by his upbringing, by his status and riches. He knows better now. He’s not royalty, not any better than others. He’s just a boy with a pretty face and a wanted body. It pays the rent, pays for his food, and sometimes even some new clothes. Nobody he meets gives a shit that his name is Malfoy, or care about his strange tattoo on his arm. No, they just want him to strip so they can use him. Sometimes they are decent, sometimes they are rough, but most of the time they just want to get off. Draco stopped counting how many men had fucked him. Most of the time without a condom, unaware of the protection spell Draco would cast without saying a word. He’s at no risk but they pay him for it anyway.
At least Draco doesn’t have to stand at a street corner waiting for a lucky stop. No, he turned out to be so popular that people have to book him. His pimp mails him his schedule every week. A different hotel every day, multiple rooms in an evening. It’s not how Draco had wanted to lose his virginity. He’d been a good boy, saved himself for marriage. Until it was clear that marriage wasn’t in the books anymore and Draco was starving. He’d cried afterwards, alone in his damp room. Just like he will once he’s done with his latest client. The ghost from his past he never wanted to see again.
“This is awkward,” Potter says. He pushes his hand through his hair. Draco lets out a forced laugh. Awkward doesn’t even come close.
“I asked for a pretty blond, someone who wouldn’t ask questions and be willing to go bareback. I hate using condoms when spells work just as fine. But I guess you already know that.”
“Stop rambling, Potter,” Draco tells him. “I don’t need to know why your here, just tell me what you want so we can get this over with.”
Potter shakes his head. “I don’t think I can.”
“Well, for fuck shakes, then we don’t do anything. As long as you don’t leave this room before your time is up, I don’t care. But you are not costing me my paycheck.”
Potter walks up and down the room. He looks at the floor and just paces. Draco really hopes he won’t leave right now. He’s Draco’s only customer this evening and the boss will hear if he left early. Draco won’t see any money and get punished for dissatisfying the customer. It has happened once, and Draco never wants to live to anything like that again. His ass had hurt for days, and the bruises wouldn’t heal, no matter how hard Draco tried to cast them away.
“I’ve looked for you, after you disappeared. I never thought about looking in the Muggle world.”
“The sole reason I’m here,” Draco says. He doesn’t know what else he should say. Why the fuck would Potter look for him in the first place. It’s not like there was anyone who would miss him. Not with his father dead and his mother in Azkaban. Not even Potter his testimony could keep her out of there. The only reason Draco got away was the fact that he was a minor for most of his crimes.
“You’re wanted now for bailing your parole,” Potter continues. He stops pacing and looks at Draco.
“Figures. So if they ever find me they’ll throw me in Azkaban. Maybe even let me have a chat with my mother.”
“Fuck, you don’t know,” Potter says.
“Don’t know what? They finally closed down Azkaban?”
“No, Malfoy. Your mother. When she heard you were missing. Well, she was sure you were dead, killed by some fanatic that wanted vengeance. She lost it and attacked the Dementors.”
Malfoy sits down on the bed. He looks at his hands. All this time he was afraid that his mother would find out one day what he had to do to survive. Only to learn that she will never know.
“Is she dead?” Draco whispers.
Potter sits down next to him. He places his arm around Draco’s back and for the first time, Draco doesn’t feel like he’s being violated.
“She got the kiss. I believe her body survived another month or two.”
Draco feels the tears roll down his cheek before he can stop them. He’s an orphan. Has been one for over a year.
“I made sure she got buried in your family grave. Almost lost my job because of it. But I owed her my life, it was the least I could do.”
“Thank you,” Draco whispers. He wants to crawl home and hide underneath his dirty blanket. But he’s stuck here, in a hotel room with Potter for at least another three hours. And for the very first time, Draco hates being a boy for hire.