Tartan Tussle
Title: Tartan Tussle
Author: enchanted_jae
Characters: Harry/Draco
Rating: NC17
Warning(s): Explicit sex
Word count: 950
Disclaimer: Characters are the property of JK Rowling, et al. This fic/drabble was written for fun, not for profit.
Written for: Birthday gift for ladydeth12, whose prompt was kilts. Sorry, but there's only one kilt here. This is from an ongoing verse, which begins here. It can be read alone, however.
Summary: Harry didn't mind that Draco was going clubbing without him, until he saw what his boyfriend was wearing.
Harry scribbled a few more lines on his parchment, frowned, and crossed out a couple words. He was irritated that Draco wouldn't stay home to help him with this speech, but then again, Draco was annoyed that Harry had declined to accompany him to the club tonight. Concentrating on his task, Harry didn't even look up when Draco entered the study to use the Floo.
"I'll be home after midnight, Harry," said Draco.
"Enjoy yourself, but not too much," Harry said, eyes still on his parchment. "Don't get into any troub-holy hippogriffs!" he squawked, getting his first good look at his boyfriend and his boyfriend's kilt. "You are not going to the club dressed like that!" shrilled Harry, surging to his feet and flailing for good measure.
Draco frowned. "What's wrong with what I'm wearing?"
"Kilt!" babbled Harry. "Club!"
"I am going to a club in Edinburgh, Harry," Draco explained patiently. "It's called The Pied Piper. I told you all this when I asked you to go with me."
"You neglected to mention you'd be tarted up in that tartan!"
"I beg your pardon?"
"There will be other blokes there!" sputtered Harry.
"Obviously, considering it's a gay club."
"Other blokes who will look at you in that kilt and try to see what you're wearing underneath it, when we both know you're not wearing anything under it!"
"I promise I won't try any high-stepping dance moves," Draco stated blandly.
"Those randy apes will lift your kilt for peek!"
Draco's eyebrow rose. "Why would they do that?"
"Because that's what I would do!" bellowed Harry. Draco didn't seem to grasp the import of what Harry was trying to convey. He went for the direct approach. "You're not going," said Harry, crossing his arms and glaring at his boyfriend.
"Yes, I am."
"No, you're not."
Rather than continue arguing, Draco turned his back on Harry and grabbed a pinch of Floo powder.
Harry lunged forward and grabbed a handful of Draco's kilt.
"Unhand me, you savage!" cried Draco, whirling around with his fist cocked back.
Draco's punch knocked Harry off balance, but he refused to relinquish his grip on his boyfriend's kilt. Harry stumbled back and fell, dragging Draco down with him. They rolled across the floor, cursing and swinging at one another, until Harry succeeded in pinning Draco beneath him. Draco's kilt had gotten rucked up in the struggle, and when Harry's hips came to rest between Draco's bare thighs, Draco moaned and arched up.
Harry had become aroused during their tussle, and he ground down against Draco's groin. He lowered his head and claimed Draco's mouth in a punishing kiss. They bit at one another's lips, expressing their anger in another sort of battle. Harry shifted his weight to one hand and used the other to give one of Draco's nipples a vicious pinch through his thin shirt. Draco retaliated by seizing Harry's hair in his fist and tugging it painfully.
Harry growled and released Draco's nipple in favor of popping the button on his own denims and lowering the zip. Harry settled between Draco's legs once more, nudging his freed cock into position. He got a cuff upside the head.
"Lube me, you brute!"
Harry grumbled, but he stilled long enough to perform a bit of wandless magic. Draco yipped and wriggled his hips, and Harry thrust and missed. "Hold still!" he barked. Draco stopped squirming and tilted his pelvis up. Harry took careful aim...and suffered a kick in the back of the thigh.
"Hurry up!"
With a snarl, Harry drove forward and in. He smirked at the sound of Draco's yelp.
"That hurt!" accused Draco, kicking Harry again.
"Ouch!" hissed Harry, pounding deeper into Draco. "Be grateful I didn't...didn't spank you first."
"You don't have the...oh...the bollocks for it."
"I'll show you...ungh...bollocks!"
Their bickering devolved into verbal communication of a different sort, one that was accomplished by grunts and groans, whimpers and sighs, and the occasional monosyllabic word.
"There."
"Yes."
"Ah!"
"More."
Harry's hand pushed Draco's kilt up farther as he fumbled for his boyfriend's prick. He closed his fingers around the hot column of flesh and pulled and squeezed. Draco squealed and lifted his legs higher and higher with each thrust of Harry's cock. Draco's legs churned the air when he came, and Harry's glasses were knocked askew in the maelstrom. No matter; his eyes were closed anyway. Harry continued pumping in and out of Draco's spasming hole until seized by his own climax.
When it was over, Harry collapsed in a sweaty heap atop his panting boyfriend.
"Oof," wheezed Draco, although he may have said oaf. Harry couldn't tell and didn't care.
"Still planning to go to the club tonight?" mumbled Harry in the vicinity of Draco's ear.
"I can't move," Draco answered wearily. "Still planning to work on your speech?"
"I can't think straight," Harry said.
"I can't breathe."
Harry grumbled something about the delicacy of purebloods and rolled off of Draco to sprawl on the floor beside him. "Can we make it to the bed?" he asked, removing his crooked glasses and yawning.
"Shower first," slurred Draco. He hadn't moved and was still lying on the floor in a debauched, untidy heap.
"Can we make it to the shower?"
Draco's only response was to turn toward Harry and fling and arm and a leg across him. He snuffled into Harry's hair a couple times before his breathing evened out.
Harry smiled and mustered the last of his energy to Summon a blanket from the small settee in the study. He managed to drape it over them, then cupped a rough hand around Draco's naked arse cheek and squeezed. Harry's eyes drifted shut, but his hand remained firmly on his prize.
Author: enchanted_jae
Characters: Harry/Draco
Rating: NC17
Warning(s): Explicit sex
Word count: 950
Disclaimer: Characters are the property of JK Rowling, et al. This fic/drabble was written for fun, not for profit.
Written for: Birthday gift for ladydeth12, whose prompt was kilts. Sorry, but there's only one kilt here. This is from an ongoing verse, which begins here. It can be read alone, however.
Summary: Harry didn't mind that Draco was going clubbing without him, until he saw what his boyfriend was wearing.
Harry scribbled a few more lines on his parchment, frowned, and crossed out a couple words. He was irritated that Draco wouldn't stay home to help him with this speech, but then again, Draco was annoyed that Harry had declined to accompany him to the club tonight. Concentrating on his task, Harry didn't even look up when Draco entered the study to use the Floo.
"I'll be home after midnight, Harry," said Draco.
"Enjoy yourself, but not too much," Harry said, eyes still on his parchment. "Don't get into any troub-holy hippogriffs!" he squawked, getting his first good look at his boyfriend and his boyfriend's kilt. "You are not going to the club dressed like that!" shrilled Harry, surging to his feet and flailing for good measure.
Draco frowned. "What's wrong with what I'm wearing?"
"Kilt!" babbled Harry. "Club!"
"I am going to a club in Edinburgh, Harry," Draco explained patiently. "It's called The Pied Piper. I told you all this when I asked you to go with me."
"You neglected to mention you'd be tarted up in that tartan!"
"I beg your pardon?"
"There will be other blokes there!" sputtered Harry.
"Obviously, considering it's a gay club."
"Other blokes who will look at you in that kilt and try to see what you're wearing underneath it, when we both know you're not wearing anything under it!"
"I promise I won't try any high-stepping dance moves," Draco stated blandly.
"Those randy apes will lift your kilt for peek!"
Draco's eyebrow rose. "Why would they do that?"
"Because that's what I would do!" bellowed Harry. Draco didn't seem to grasp the import of what Harry was trying to convey. He went for the direct approach. "You're not going," said Harry, crossing his arms and glaring at his boyfriend.
"Yes, I am."
"No, you're not."
Rather than continue arguing, Draco turned his back on Harry and grabbed a pinch of Floo powder.
Harry lunged forward and grabbed a handful of Draco's kilt.
"Unhand me, you savage!" cried Draco, whirling around with his fist cocked back.
Draco's punch knocked Harry off balance, but he refused to relinquish his grip on his boyfriend's kilt. Harry stumbled back and fell, dragging Draco down with him. They rolled across the floor, cursing and swinging at one another, until Harry succeeded in pinning Draco beneath him. Draco's kilt had gotten rucked up in the struggle, and when Harry's hips came to rest between Draco's bare thighs, Draco moaned and arched up.
Harry had become aroused during their tussle, and he ground down against Draco's groin. He lowered his head and claimed Draco's mouth in a punishing kiss. They bit at one another's lips, expressing their anger in another sort of battle. Harry shifted his weight to one hand and used the other to give one of Draco's nipples a vicious pinch through his thin shirt. Draco retaliated by seizing Harry's hair in his fist and tugging it painfully.
Harry growled and released Draco's nipple in favor of popping the button on his own denims and lowering the zip. Harry settled between Draco's legs once more, nudging his freed cock into position. He got a cuff upside the head.
"Lube me, you brute!"
Harry grumbled, but he stilled long enough to perform a bit of wandless magic. Draco yipped and wriggled his hips, and Harry thrust and missed. "Hold still!" he barked. Draco stopped squirming and tilted his pelvis up. Harry took careful aim...and suffered a kick in the back of the thigh.
"Hurry up!"
With a snarl, Harry drove forward and in. He smirked at the sound of Draco's yelp.
"That hurt!" accused Draco, kicking Harry again.
"Ouch!" hissed Harry, pounding deeper into Draco. "Be grateful I didn't...didn't spank you first."
"You don't have the...oh...the bollocks for it."
"I'll show you...ungh...bollocks!"
Their bickering devolved into verbal communication of a different sort, one that was accomplished by grunts and groans, whimpers and sighs, and the occasional monosyllabic word.
"There."
"Yes."
"Ah!"
"More."
Harry's hand pushed Draco's kilt up farther as he fumbled for his boyfriend's prick. He closed his fingers around the hot column of flesh and pulled and squeezed. Draco squealed and lifted his legs higher and higher with each thrust of Harry's cock. Draco's legs churned the air when he came, and Harry's glasses were knocked askew in the maelstrom. No matter; his eyes were closed anyway. Harry continued pumping in and out of Draco's spasming hole until seized by his own climax.
When it was over, Harry collapsed in a sweaty heap atop his panting boyfriend.
"Oof," wheezed Draco, although he may have said oaf. Harry couldn't tell and didn't care.
"Still planning to go to the club tonight?" mumbled Harry in the vicinity of Draco's ear.
"I can't move," Draco answered wearily. "Still planning to work on your speech?"
"I can't think straight," Harry said.
"I can't breathe."
Harry grumbled something about the delicacy of purebloods and rolled off of Draco to sprawl on the floor beside him. "Can we make it to the bed?" he asked, removing his crooked glasses and yawning.
"Shower first," slurred Draco. He hadn't moved and was still lying on the floor in a debauched, untidy heap.
"Can we make it to the shower?"
Draco's only response was to turn toward Harry and fling and arm and a leg across him. He snuffled into Harry's hair a couple times before his breathing evened out.
Harry smiled and mustered the last of his energy to Summon a blanket from the small settee in the study. He managed to drape it over them, then cupped a rough hand around Draco's naked arse cheek and squeezed. Harry's eyes drifted shut, but his hand remained firmly on his prize.