(Untitled)
kupukello wanted friends posts to help pass the time. I have nothing of great importance to say apart from the day is lovely and sunny and my calfs hurt so much I am hobbling like an old person.
Oh, and I think I need a cup of tea.
( Cookie for a bit of a story I will probably never finish )
Oh, and I think I need a cup of tea.
( Cookie for a bit of a story I will probably never finish )
“Harry, what are you watching this time?”
Turning slightly, the dark haired young man smiled briefly at the new comer before turning back to the large television set in the corner of the lounge. “Badminton.”
“And what on earth is badminton?” Draco leaned over the back of the sofa and draped his arms around Harry’s neck before sucking quickly on the other man’s earlobe.
“It’s a bit like tennis but with a higher net.” His eyes not leaving the screen, Harry clasped one of Draco’s hands in his own, kissed it briefly and let it go.
“And tennis is?” He ruffled the untidy black hair of his lover.
“You know bloody well what tennis is.” He grabbed at Draco’s arms and pulled him quickly over the back of the sofa. The man landed on his back, spread across Harry’s lap and the cushions. “Now shut up. We’ve nearly won and we’re four points away from winning a gold medal.”
Draco lay still for a moment, head turned to watch as the four players on the screen knocked a little white thing backwards and forwards. The crowd in the stadium were shouting and screaming as the score bounced back and forth as much as the white thing did. He shuffled down the cushions until his head was in Harry’s lap. “Who are the teams? It looks like Ravenclaw against Hufflepuff.”
“That’s us in the in the blue and white, and China in the yellow and black.” Harry’s hand dropped casually to Draco’s head, fingers pushing into the silky white hair.
“And what’s that they’re knocking about?”
Harry’s other hand rubbed gently at Draco’s stomach. “It’s a shuttlecock.”
For a moment there was silence and then Draco sniggered. “A what?”
“It’s called a shuttlecock.”
“Only Muggles could think up a name like that.”
“And you think ‘Quaffle’ and ‘Bludger’ are any more sensible?”
“Probably not, but there’s only one shuttlecock I’m interested in.” He nuzzled briefly at Harry’s crotch, one hand reaching up to pluck gently at Harry’s shirt.
Harry let out a quiet groan and his hand tightened in Draco’s hair. “I’m trying... ohhhh.” His words drifted into a moan as Draco’s fingers latched onto his nipple.
“Yes, Harry, you’ve very trying.”
Harry let out a sudden groan of annoyance and bounced on the sofa a little. “Fuck ... we lost!” His head dropped back and his shoulders slumped just a little. “That was so close.”
“Poor baby,” Draco’s voice was tinged with just a little chuckle. “You’re not doing very well this summer are you? The World Cup thing, then Southampton losing against Aston Villa last week.” He moved a little, turning his head towards Harry. “Still, England won that friendly game thing yesterday.”
“Oh, I’m not that upset about this.” He waved absently at the television. “It’s just we were so close.” The sound of Harry’s sigh was heart-felt and after a few moments he ruffled Draco’s hair. “Still, it was a silver, which is petty good.”
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We wantsss it, yessss, we wantssssss it.
As long as your giving us short sports stories we'd NEVER complain about senselessness. Because they are actually very... sensual.
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Hee, hee.
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