Dine and Dash
Title: Dine and Dash
Rating: PG 13
Word Count: 1,050
Author's notes: Written for hd_pots_n_porn's January Prompt: Soup
Summary: Draco is stuck on a miserable date. Enter Pothead.
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. This was written for fun, not profit.
By the time the soup was served, Draco knew he had made a mistake.
This was his first date in months and disaster didn’t even begin to cover it. Rufus Butterworth was less than ideal as far as companions went. He was dull as dish water and loved hearing himself talk. Draco had managed to get two words in before resigning himself to silence and listening to Butterworth drone on and on about the Cauldron Welding business. When he did pause for breath, he would leer suggestively and make not so subtle innuendos.
Draco was busy fantasising about slipping out through the restaurant’s bathroom window when he felt a pudgy hand cover his own.
“I’m sure you’d like to see my family estate for yourself,” Butterworth declared in a tone that suggested he wouldn’t take a polite no for an answer. “We shall retire to the Manor after dinner. I’m sure we can find,” he paused and tightened his grip on Draco’s hand, just a fraction, “some way to ahem...occupy ourselves.”
Draco swallowed audibly around a mouthful of butternut squash soup. His mind raced frantically, attempting to find a way, any way out of this situation.
Obviously, that was the exact moment Harry Potter walked in to the restaurant.
“Potter!”
Draco was up and running before Potter even registered what was happening. His eyes widened in shock as he caught sight of Draco bolting towards him. Potter raised his hands in what may or may not have been an instinctive move for self defence but Draco was far too determined. He grabbed Potter by the shirt lapels and wrapped his arms around him in a tight, bruising hug.
“Get me out of this and I’ll do anything you want,” Draco hissed in his ear. “So help me Salazar, if you leave me with this lumbering oaf, I’ll murder you in your sleep.”
“Wha-?” Potter blurted.
Draco broke away from him with a too bright grin. “How are you? It’s been years!”
“Wha-?” Potter repeated, blinking rapidly. Stupidly.
Draco refrained from kicking him in the shins and turned back to Butterworth. “Rufus, I’m sure you’ve heard of Harry Potter.”
Butterworth looked less than pleased. “The Saviour,” he droned. “An absolute pleasure.”
Draco took the opportunity to drag Potter forward. Fortunately, the idiot was too shocked to resist...much. “We were at Hogwarts together,” he explained, trying to appear as enthusiastic and upbeat as possible. “Potter here was one of my best friends!”
Potter regained his mental faculties in the face of that outrageous claim. “One of your best...are you out of yo-ow!”
Draco removed his elbow from Potter’s midsection and slung an arm around him. “Best. Friend,” he intoned as clearly and dangerously as he could. Potter was a complete imbecile but surely even he could see what Draco was trying to do, couldn’t he? Oh Merlin, what if Potter didn’t play along? Draco wasn’t sure he could stand another second alone with Butterworth.
“Actually,” Potter began slowly, rubbing his side and shooting a half-glare in Draco’s direction, “that’s not quite true.”
Draco’s heart sank, right down his shoes.
Potter smiled brightly. “We were together for four years,” he declared.
Draco blinked. “Wha-?” he managed, right before Potter slipped an arm around his waist and dragged him over.
“I see,” Butterworth grumbled. “How...fortuitous that you should meet again. Here. Tonight.”
“Isn’t it?” Potter agreed happily. He turned back to Draco, still all smiles and sunshine, but those green eyes shone with evil glee. “Merlin, I’ve been planning to look you up for ages. Remember that one night on the Astronomy Tower? You were so drunk and you kept putting your hands in my...”
“Yes!” Draco blurted, hastening to cut Potter’s mortifying monologue short. “Good...good times.”
Potter’s bright grin turned suggestive, not unlike Butterworth’s. On Potter though, it looked sexy. Those deep green eyes and messy hair added to his rakish charm. Draco swallowed, completely caught off guard. How had Potter managed to turn the tables so easily? And exactly who was coming out ahead? Draco had a feeling it wasn’t him.
“Well, it’s a right shame I interrupted your date,” Potter declared suddenly.
“Yes, well,” Butterworth muttered ungraciously. “No harm done, I suppo...”
“So,” Potter cut in, somewhat forcefully. “I’ll be happy to pay for dinner. Feel free to stay as long you like. And don’t worry about a thing, I’ll personally see Draco home.”
“Wha-” Butterworth began, but it was too late. Potter piled some Galleons on the table, slung an arm around Draco and spirited him away to safety. As soon as they were in a Butterworth free zone, he collapsed against a wall, practically rolling with laughter. Draco scowled as Potter had a fit right there on the street.
“Are you quite finished?” he asked dryly.
“Your face, Malfoy!” Potter choked out. “You should have seen your face!”
Draco rolled his eyes and pursed his lips, trying to ignore how the sight of Potter laughing seemed to make his stomach flutter. Rubbish. It was probably that butternut squash soup...
Eventually, Potter managed to get a handle on himself. “How did you get roped in with Butterball there?” he asked, eyes shining with mirth.
“Call it a momentary lapse of judgement,” Draco sighed. “Anyway, I suppose I should thank you for your...timely intervention. Have a nice night, Potter. Try not to let the Knight Bus hit you on your way home.”
He made to leave, only to be halted as Potter snagged his arm and pulled him back. Draco squeaked in surprise as he tumbled into Potter’s chest. The latter took the opportunity to wrap an arm around his waist, herding him closer.
“Not so fast, Malfoy,” Potter whispered in his ear. “You did promise me anything I wanted. Remember?”
Draco swallowed audibly. His eyelashes fluttered as Potter’s grip on him tightened just a fraction, the slightest suggestion of force. The outline of those lips traced his ear again, leaving a trail of warm breath in its wake. It felt...good. Really good. For once, Draco was almost eager to hold up his end of a bargain.
“What do you want from me?” he murmured, leaning oh-so-subtly into the solid chest.
He felt Potter’s grin against his skin. “I reckon you’re done with dinner. How about some dessert instead?”
Rating: PG 13
Word Count: 1,050
Author's notes: Written for hd_pots_n_porn's January Prompt: Soup
Summary: Draco is stuck on a miserable date. Enter Pothead.
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. This was written for fun, not profit.
By the time the soup was served, Draco knew he had made a mistake.
This was his first date in months and disaster didn’t even begin to cover it. Rufus Butterworth was less than ideal as far as companions went. He was dull as dish water and loved hearing himself talk. Draco had managed to get two words in before resigning himself to silence and listening to Butterworth drone on and on about the Cauldron Welding business. When he did pause for breath, he would leer suggestively and make not so subtle innuendos.
Draco was busy fantasising about slipping out through the restaurant’s bathroom window when he felt a pudgy hand cover his own.
“I’m sure you’d like to see my family estate for yourself,” Butterworth declared in a tone that suggested he wouldn’t take a polite no for an answer. “We shall retire to the Manor after dinner. I’m sure we can find,” he paused and tightened his grip on Draco’s hand, just a fraction, “some way to ahem...occupy ourselves.”
Draco swallowed audibly around a mouthful of butternut squash soup. His mind raced frantically, attempting to find a way, any way out of this situation.
Obviously, that was the exact moment Harry Potter walked in to the restaurant.
“Potter!”
Draco was up and running before Potter even registered what was happening. His eyes widened in shock as he caught sight of Draco bolting towards him. Potter raised his hands in what may or may not have been an instinctive move for self defence but Draco was far too determined. He grabbed Potter by the shirt lapels and wrapped his arms around him in a tight, bruising hug.
“Get me out of this and I’ll do anything you want,” Draco hissed in his ear. “So help me Salazar, if you leave me with this lumbering oaf, I’ll murder you in your sleep.”
“Wha-?” Potter blurted.
Draco broke away from him with a too bright grin. “How are you? It’s been years!”
“Wha-?” Potter repeated, blinking rapidly. Stupidly.
Draco refrained from kicking him in the shins and turned back to Butterworth. “Rufus, I’m sure you’ve heard of Harry Potter.”
Butterworth looked less than pleased. “The Saviour,” he droned. “An absolute pleasure.”
Draco took the opportunity to drag Potter forward. Fortunately, the idiot was too shocked to resist...much. “We were at Hogwarts together,” he explained, trying to appear as enthusiastic and upbeat as possible. “Potter here was one of my best friends!”
Potter regained his mental faculties in the face of that outrageous claim. “One of your best...are you out of yo-ow!”
Draco removed his elbow from Potter’s midsection and slung an arm around him. “Best. Friend,” he intoned as clearly and dangerously as he could. Potter was a complete imbecile but surely even he could see what Draco was trying to do, couldn’t he? Oh Merlin, what if Potter didn’t play along? Draco wasn’t sure he could stand another second alone with Butterworth.
“Actually,” Potter began slowly, rubbing his side and shooting a half-glare in Draco’s direction, “that’s not quite true.”
Draco’s heart sank, right down his shoes.
Potter smiled brightly. “We were together for four years,” he declared.
Draco blinked. “Wha-?” he managed, right before Potter slipped an arm around his waist and dragged him over.
“I see,” Butterworth grumbled. “How...fortuitous that you should meet again. Here. Tonight.”
“Isn’t it?” Potter agreed happily. He turned back to Draco, still all smiles and sunshine, but those green eyes shone with evil glee. “Merlin, I’ve been planning to look you up for ages. Remember that one night on the Astronomy Tower? You were so drunk and you kept putting your hands in my...”
“Yes!” Draco blurted, hastening to cut Potter’s mortifying monologue short. “Good...good times.”
Potter’s bright grin turned suggestive, not unlike Butterworth’s. On Potter though, it looked sexy. Those deep green eyes and messy hair added to his rakish charm. Draco swallowed, completely caught off guard. How had Potter managed to turn the tables so easily? And exactly who was coming out ahead? Draco had a feeling it wasn’t him.
“Well, it’s a right shame I interrupted your date,” Potter declared suddenly.
“Yes, well,” Butterworth muttered ungraciously. “No harm done, I suppo...”
“So,” Potter cut in, somewhat forcefully. “I’ll be happy to pay for dinner. Feel free to stay as long you like. And don’t worry about a thing, I’ll personally see Draco home.”
“Wha-” Butterworth began, but it was too late. Potter piled some Galleons on the table, slung an arm around Draco and spirited him away to safety. As soon as they were in a Butterworth free zone, he collapsed against a wall, practically rolling with laughter. Draco scowled as Potter had a fit right there on the street.
“Are you quite finished?” he asked dryly.
“Your face, Malfoy!” Potter choked out. “You should have seen your face!”
Draco rolled his eyes and pursed his lips, trying to ignore how the sight of Potter laughing seemed to make his stomach flutter. Rubbish. It was probably that butternut squash soup...
Eventually, Potter managed to get a handle on himself. “How did you get roped in with Butterball there?” he asked, eyes shining with mirth.
“Call it a momentary lapse of judgement,” Draco sighed. “Anyway, I suppose I should thank you for your...timely intervention. Have a nice night, Potter. Try not to let the Knight Bus hit you on your way home.”
He made to leave, only to be halted as Potter snagged his arm and pulled him back. Draco squeaked in surprise as he tumbled into Potter’s chest. The latter took the opportunity to wrap an arm around his waist, herding him closer.
“Not so fast, Malfoy,” Potter whispered in his ear. “You did promise me anything I wanted. Remember?”
Draco swallowed audibly. His eyelashes fluttered as Potter’s grip on him tightened just a fraction, the slightest suggestion of force. The outline of those lips traced his ear again, leaving a trail of warm breath in its wake. It felt...good. Really good. For once, Draco was almost eager to hold up his end of a bargain.
“What do you want from me?” he murmured, leaning oh-so-subtly into the solid chest.
He felt Potter’s grin against his skin. “I reckon you’re done with dinner. How about some dessert instead?”