Birthday gift; AWDT: Rentboy Trousers
Title: Rentboy Trousers
Author: enchanted_jae
Characters: Harry/Draco
Rating: R
Warning(s): Sexual activity
Additional warning: Author is not responsible for underage readers. Mind the rating and warning(s).
Word count: 1115
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 girlofavalon, with a prompt of possessive!Harry
♦ awdt current prompt of stretches with your skin
Summary: Draco's attire sparks Harry's jealous, possessive streak.
Harry glanced at his Muggle watch and looked back at the door. Draco had said he'd meet Harry at the club, but he had yet to put in an appearance. Harry knew his boyfriend spent far more time getting ready to go out than most females did, but this was ridiculous. It was probably a good thing they maintained separate flats; had Harry been sitting at home waiting on Draco, he would have gone mad.
Harry turned his back on the dance floor and took a drink of ale. The thing he liked most about this club was that the dance floor was magically buffered. Those who were dancing could get caught up in the loud music, while those who were off the floor heard only a muffled beat. It allowed for either frantic dancing or enjoyable conversation. In fact, it was at this club that Harry first pulled Draco.
"Care to dance, Potter?"
Harry turned his head to see a bloke who looked vaguely familiar. Ravenclaw, he thought, although he couldn't place the bloke's name. He gave a tight smile and shook his head. "I'm waiting on my boyfriend, thanks."
The other man nodded politely and moved onto the dance floor by himself. It didn't take him long to hook up with a partner, and Harry shrugged and returned his attention to the door. He was just in time to see Draco come sauntering into the club. Harry smiled and then did a double-take.
So did several other blokes.
Draco was wearing tight leather trousers in a shade of red that just screamed fuck me.
Harry was going to kill his boyfriend and then fuck him. He slid off of his bar stool and began pushing his way through the crowd to get to Draco. By the time Harry arrived, Draco was in the midst of a throng of lust-crazed admirers. Harry realized it was going to be difficult to get to Draco's side, and he began throwing elbows. When his physical assaults were met with scowls, Harry glared daggers at the would-be challengers. To a man, when they realized who Harry was, they retreated with only mutters of protest.
Finally, it was just Harry and Draco standing face to face.
"Hello, love," Draco greeted cheerfully. "Are you ready to dance?"
"First, you are going home to change," growled Harry. He reached for Draco's arm to steer him from the club, but his boyfriend side-stepped him.
"What's wrong with what I'm wearing?"
"You look like a rentboy!" Harry cried, attracting the attention of other patrons of the club.
"I see other blokes here wearing leather," said Draco. "I am not going home to change. I happen to like these trousers. The material stretches with your skin, and it feels amazing." As he spoke, Draco ran his hands over his hips and down his thighs, presumably to demonstrate the amazing feeling of his rentboy trousers. He narrowed his eyes on Harry. "Are you going to dance with me, or shall I find another partner?"
Harry felt his blood pressure skyrocket. He grabbed his wand and Draco's arm at the same time and Disapparated from the club.
As soon as they reappeared in Harry's bedroom, Draco gave him a shove. "Damn it, you overbearing troll," he snapped. "It's a wonder you didn't splinch us!"
"Take off those trousers," Harry demanded.
"Go fuck yourself!"
Harry lunged at Draco, who managed to elude him. However, Harry still had his wand in one hand, and he used it to cast a Tripping jinx.
"Gah!" Draco cried as he tumbled to the floor.
Harry pounced on Draco and pinned him. "If you don't take those trousers off this instant, I'll remove them myself," he threatened. Draco sighed and relaxed, and Harry let his guard down. His boyfriend slapped the wand out of his hand and tried to wriggle away. Harry tightened his grip on Draco and sat on him, straddling Draco's thighs. He couldn't fail to see the bulge at the front of Draco's leather trousers. What Harry didn't see was a button, a snap or a zip. Frowning, he raised up slightly and flipped Draco over.
There wasn't a zip in the back of the trousers, either. Harry grasped the waistband and tried to insert a finger between the leather and Draco's skin, but the damned trousers were too tight. "How in the bloody hell do you take these off?!" he bellowed.
"It's a moot point, because I am not going to take them off!" Draco yelled right back. He resumed squirming, trying to escape Harry. All Draco accomplished was to spur Harry's libido into overdrive.
Harry dropped onto Draco, pinning him in place with his full weight.
"You're crushing me, you oaf!" Draco snarled in protest.
Harry realized that his boyfriend's wriggling consisted mainly of Draco pushing his arse back into Harry's groin and rubbing against him. Harry was unable to resist the urge to frot against his boyfriend. Draco had a fine arse, and the sight of it in skin tight leather had already left Harry painfully aroused. He gave up on trying to tug Draco's trousers down and simply lost himself in the sensation of dry humping his boyfriend.
Draco didn't protest the uncouth treatment. He was busy frotting against the floor to relieve the ache in his own groin. It was unconventional sex, but sex was sex, and Draco wasn't going to pass it up. If he could just get a little...more...friction...
Harry thrust hard against Draco and ground his hips down, pressing his boyfriend into the floor. Draco bucked under him and made that cute little gasping moan he did when he climaxed. Determined to achieve his own release, Harry rubbed himself furiously against Draco's arse, convinced he could feel the cleft between Draco's cheeks through the material of their clothing. Harry muffled a groan against Draco's nape as he came.
Draco lay panting on the floor, wrinkling his nose at the sticky sensation inside his trousers. Harry rolled off of him and lay on his back, his own breath coming in short pants.
"You've ruined my trousers, you dolt," Draco complained. His voice lacked any real heat.
"Oy, how did you get the bloody things on in the first place?" Harry thought to ask. "Did you stand on the roof and jump into them?"
"Of course not," Draco scoffed. "I spelled them on, you squib."
Author: enchanted_jae
Characters: Harry/Draco
Rating: R
Warning(s): Sexual activity
Additional warning: Author is not responsible for underage readers. Mind the rating and warning(s).
Word count: 1115
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 girlofavalon, with a prompt of possessive!Harry
♦ awdt current prompt of stretches with your skin
Summary: Draco's attire sparks Harry's jealous, possessive streak.
Harry glanced at his Muggle watch and looked back at the door. Draco had said he'd meet Harry at the club, but he had yet to put in an appearance. Harry knew his boyfriend spent far more time getting ready to go out than most females did, but this was ridiculous. It was probably a good thing they maintained separate flats; had Harry been sitting at home waiting on Draco, he would have gone mad.
Harry turned his back on the dance floor and took a drink of ale. The thing he liked most about this club was that the dance floor was magically buffered. Those who were dancing could get caught up in the loud music, while those who were off the floor heard only a muffled beat. It allowed for either frantic dancing or enjoyable conversation. In fact, it was at this club that Harry first pulled Draco.
"Care to dance, Potter?"
Harry turned his head to see a bloke who looked vaguely familiar. Ravenclaw, he thought, although he couldn't place the bloke's name. He gave a tight smile and shook his head. "I'm waiting on my boyfriend, thanks."
The other man nodded politely and moved onto the dance floor by himself. It didn't take him long to hook up with a partner, and Harry shrugged and returned his attention to the door. He was just in time to see Draco come sauntering into the club. Harry smiled and then did a double-take.
So did several other blokes.
Draco was wearing tight leather trousers in a shade of red that just screamed fuck me.
Harry was going to kill his boyfriend and then fuck him. He slid off of his bar stool and began pushing his way through the crowd to get to Draco. By the time Harry arrived, Draco was in the midst of a throng of lust-crazed admirers. Harry realized it was going to be difficult to get to Draco's side, and he began throwing elbows. When his physical assaults were met with scowls, Harry glared daggers at the would-be challengers. To a man, when they realized who Harry was, they retreated with only mutters of protest.
Finally, it was just Harry and Draco standing face to face.
"Hello, love," Draco greeted cheerfully. "Are you ready to dance?"
"First, you are going home to change," growled Harry. He reached for Draco's arm to steer him from the club, but his boyfriend side-stepped him.
"What's wrong with what I'm wearing?"
"You look like a rentboy!" Harry cried, attracting the attention of other patrons of the club.
"I see other blokes here wearing leather," said Draco. "I am not going home to change. I happen to like these trousers. The material stretches with your skin, and it feels amazing." As he spoke, Draco ran his hands over his hips and down his thighs, presumably to demonstrate the amazing feeling of his rentboy trousers. He narrowed his eyes on Harry. "Are you going to dance with me, or shall I find another partner?"
Harry felt his blood pressure skyrocket. He grabbed his wand and Draco's arm at the same time and Disapparated from the club.
As soon as they reappeared in Harry's bedroom, Draco gave him a shove. "Damn it, you overbearing troll," he snapped. "It's a wonder you didn't splinch us!"
"Take off those trousers," Harry demanded.
"Go fuck yourself!"
Harry lunged at Draco, who managed to elude him. However, Harry still had his wand in one hand, and he used it to cast a Tripping jinx.
"Gah!" Draco cried as he tumbled to the floor.
Harry pounced on Draco and pinned him. "If you don't take those trousers off this instant, I'll remove them myself," he threatened. Draco sighed and relaxed, and Harry let his guard down. His boyfriend slapped the wand out of his hand and tried to wriggle away. Harry tightened his grip on Draco and sat on him, straddling Draco's thighs. He couldn't fail to see the bulge at the front of Draco's leather trousers. What Harry didn't see was a button, a snap or a zip. Frowning, he raised up slightly and flipped Draco over.
There wasn't a zip in the back of the trousers, either. Harry grasped the waistband and tried to insert a finger between the leather and Draco's skin, but the damned trousers were too tight. "How in the bloody hell do you take these off?!" he bellowed.
"It's a moot point, because I am not going to take them off!" Draco yelled right back. He resumed squirming, trying to escape Harry. All Draco accomplished was to spur Harry's libido into overdrive.
Harry dropped onto Draco, pinning him in place with his full weight.
"You're crushing me, you oaf!" Draco snarled in protest.
Harry realized that his boyfriend's wriggling consisted mainly of Draco pushing his arse back into Harry's groin and rubbing against him. Harry was unable to resist the urge to frot against his boyfriend. Draco had a fine arse, and the sight of it in skin tight leather had already left Harry painfully aroused. He gave up on trying to tug Draco's trousers down and simply lost himself in the sensation of dry humping his boyfriend.
Draco didn't protest the uncouth treatment. He was busy frotting against the floor to relieve the ache in his own groin. It was unconventional sex, but sex was sex, and Draco wasn't going to pass it up. If he could just get a little...more...friction...
Harry thrust hard against Draco and ground his hips down, pressing his boyfriend into the floor. Draco bucked under him and made that cute little gasping moan he did when he climaxed. Determined to achieve his own release, Harry rubbed himself furiously against Draco's arse, convinced he could feel the cleft between Draco's cheeks through the material of their clothing. Harry muffled a groan against Draco's nape as he came.
Draco lay panting on the floor, wrinkling his nose at the sticky sensation inside his trousers. Harry rolled off of him and lay on his back, his own breath coming in short pants.
"You've ruined my trousers, you dolt," Draco complained. His voice lacked any real heat.
"Oy, how did you get the bloody things on in the first place?" Harry thought to ask. "Did you stand on the roof and jump into them?"
"Of course not," Draco scoffed. "I spelled them on, you squib."