Disturbing Disclosures
Title: Disturbing Disclosures
Author: enchanted_jae
Characters: Draco, Harry, omc
Rating: PG13
Warning(s): Angst
Word count: 1175
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 ldydark1 who requested more of Club Coquette
Summary: The hits keep coming.
Draco tugged and Potter released him, along with a small sigh. Draco still couldn't look at him. He rubbed his wrist absently, not because it hurt but because it felt so achingly familiar.
"How did you know it was me?" he asked, voice barely above a whisper.
"Is this a conversation you want to have here?"
Draco shook his head. "I don't think I want to have this conversation at all."
Potter sighed again. "I don't know what to say or how to make this better. I won't apologize for who I am."
Draco risked a glance at him before looking away once more. "I don't blame you for who you are," he said. "I regret losing who you were to me."
"You haven't lost me," Potter insisted. "I'm right here."
Unable to speak, Draco simply shook his head again.
"Draco, darling! There you are!"
Draco's shoulders hunched, and he cursed beneath his breath.
"Your mum was convinced you'd skived off and...oh, hello, Potter."
"Todd." Potter's voice was short and clipped.
"You know who I am?" Todd exclaimed. "I'm flattered."
"Your reputation precedes you," said Potter. "Now, please be so kind as to proceed back out to the ballroom. You're intruding on a private conversation."
Todd's jaw dropped. "Well, I--"
"I'm not asking you to leave, I'm telling you to leave," growled Potter.
Todd reeled back a step, and Draco shivered in reaction to Potter's rumbling tone. He'd heard it so many times in the heat of passion that it invoked a primal response in him.
Todd's mouth worked soundlessly for a moment longer before he pivoted and slunk from the bar area.
Draco massaged his forehead. "You have approximately thirty seconds before my mother storms in here. Perhaps a full minute if Todd can't find her immediately."
Potter's fingers closed around Draco's wrist again. Draco felt the twist and wrench of Apparition, and they were suddenly in a well-appointed study.
Potter released him and moved away, holding both hands up with palms out. "I do apologize for that. Would you care for a drink?" Before Draco could answer, he was subjected to intent scrutiny. Potter nodded once, as if to himself, and said, "Coffee, I think." He crossed the room and started a baffling Muggle device.
Still feeling off-kilter from the entire situation, Draco took two wobbling steps to the nearest straight-backed chair and sank down to perch on the edge.
Potter returned a moment later and pressed a cup into Draco's hands. "Careful," he warned. "It's hot."
Draco took a cautious sip. His nose wrinkled at the bitter flavor, but the heat spread throughout his body and helped quell his shivering.
Potter moved away, the Muggle device made more noise, and he came back with his own cup of brew. He took a seat in a chair that was near Draco's yet provided enough distance between them that they couldn't touch.
Draco felt that separation keenly, like a blow to his sternum. Once again, they drank together in silence.
Potter set his cup down and raised his chin. "We need to discuss the Erumpent in the room. I'll begin. I miss you, Draco. Not just in my bed, but in my life."
His words sent a rush of heat through Draco that put the coffee to shame. Potter's words were pretty, but if Draco was to be honest with himself, all they had was sex. He clutched his cup with both hands. "When have I ever been in your life?"
"Since we were eleven years old."
Draco glanced up, but Potter wasn't smiling. He meant what he'd said. Draco opened his mouth to refute Potter's assertion, but he couldn't. Instead, he repeated his earlier question. "How did you know it was me?"
Now Potter smiled. "I didn't at first," he admitted. "Few people are aware of this, but Club Coquette is imbued with magic that subtly alters its patrons' voices and appearances. For instance, in the club your eyes always seemed blue to me."
Draco's lips parted in surprise. He'd wondered how he had failed to notice Potter's signature green eyes or recognize a voice that was nearly as familiar as his own. "When did you figure it out?" he asked.
"I've known for some time."
The revelations just kept coming. "You never said anything?!"
Potter spread his hands. "The entire point of Club Coquette is its anonymity," he said. "I've recognized other patrons, but I know how to keep secrets. It would no longer be a fun, freeing experience if guests knew one another."
"Yet you say you've sussed out the identities of guests."
"The club's magic affects me differently."
Draco huffed in disbelief. "How does the club's magic affect you differently? That makes no sense."
"Because it's my magic!" Potter exclaimed, raking a hand through his hair in frustration.
"Sorry?"
Potter removed his specs and pinched the bridge of his nose. He sighed and lifted his head, meeting Draco's eyes. "I own Club Coquette. I created it. All of the magic that makes the club special is my magic."
Draco feared his mind was going to implode. He'd been hit with so many disturbing disclosures this evening that he was having difficulty processing it all. All Draco could manage to utter was, "Why?"
"Why?" Potter repeated. He leaned back in his chair. "Why create the club, do you mean?" At Draco's nod, Potter put his glasses on again and sighed once more. "I created the club because Harry Potter couldn't do anything without people remarking on it, reporting it, judging me. I wasn't able to have an affair or even go on a bloody date without seeing it in the Prophet the next day. I tried going to Muggle clubs, but even there some Squib would recognize me and tattle. It was maddening. I realized if I wanted any privacy in my most private life, the only way to do so was by remaining anonymous. Unfortunately, there was nowhere in London that met my criteria."
"So you opened an anonymous club of your own."
Potter nodded. "I opened an anonymous club of my own."
Draco gave a derisive snort. "I reckon you've had plenty of partners at your swanky sex club."
"This may surprise you, but no," said Potter. "Of course, I engaged in some one-offs, but I didn't spend much time at the club. That all changed when a beautiful bloke in a naughty corset and fuck-me boots arrived."
Potter's words gave Draco an inappropriate thrill. "Did...did you know who I was that first night?"
"No."
"You were there when I returned."
"Yes, waiting and hoping for a chance to spend more time in your company."
"Why?" asked Draco, genuinely curious.
"I found you intriguing," Potter replied. "You were gorgeous and fit, sexy and snarky. Thrilling. Interesting."
Draco dampened his dry lips. "What of the nights I didn't come to the club?"
Potter's mouth quirked in a half grin. "Are you asking if I cheated on you?"
Draco frowned. "No, I meant-"
"There's been no one for me since you, Cinderella."
Amorous Anonymity
Author: enchanted_jae
Characters: Draco, Harry, omc
Rating: PG13
Warning(s): Angst
Word count: 1175
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 ldydark1 who requested more of Club Coquette
Summary: The hits keep coming.
Draco tugged and Potter released him, along with a small sigh. Draco still couldn't look at him. He rubbed his wrist absently, not because it hurt but because it felt so achingly familiar.
"How did you know it was me?" he asked, voice barely above a whisper.
"Is this a conversation you want to have here?"
Draco shook his head. "I don't think I want to have this conversation at all."
Potter sighed again. "I don't know what to say or how to make this better. I won't apologize for who I am."
Draco risked a glance at him before looking away once more. "I don't blame you for who you are," he said. "I regret losing who you were to me."
"You haven't lost me," Potter insisted. "I'm right here."
Unable to speak, Draco simply shook his head again.
"Draco, darling! There you are!"
Draco's shoulders hunched, and he cursed beneath his breath.
"Your mum was convinced you'd skived off and...oh, hello, Potter."
"Todd." Potter's voice was short and clipped.
"You know who I am?" Todd exclaimed. "I'm flattered."
"Your reputation precedes you," said Potter. "Now, please be so kind as to proceed back out to the ballroom. You're intruding on a private conversation."
Todd's jaw dropped. "Well, I--"
"I'm not asking you to leave, I'm telling you to leave," growled Potter.
Todd reeled back a step, and Draco shivered in reaction to Potter's rumbling tone. He'd heard it so many times in the heat of passion that it invoked a primal response in him.
Todd's mouth worked soundlessly for a moment longer before he pivoted and slunk from the bar area.
Draco massaged his forehead. "You have approximately thirty seconds before my mother storms in here. Perhaps a full minute if Todd can't find her immediately."
Potter's fingers closed around Draco's wrist again. Draco felt the twist and wrench of Apparition, and they were suddenly in a well-appointed study.
Potter released him and moved away, holding both hands up with palms out. "I do apologize for that. Would you care for a drink?" Before Draco could answer, he was subjected to intent scrutiny. Potter nodded once, as if to himself, and said, "Coffee, I think." He crossed the room and started a baffling Muggle device.
Still feeling off-kilter from the entire situation, Draco took two wobbling steps to the nearest straight-backed chair and sank down to perch on the edge.
Potter returned a moment later and pressed a cup into Draco's hands. "Careful," he warned. "It's hot."
Draco took a cautious sip. His nose wrinkled at the bitter flavor, but the heat spread throughout his body and helped quell his shivering.
Potter moved away, the Muggle device made more noise, and he came back with his own cup of brew. He took a seat in a chair that was near Draco's yet provided enough distance between them that they couldn't touch.
Draco felt that separation keenly, like a blow to his sternum. Once again, they drank together in silence.
Potter set his cup down and raised his chin. "We need to discuss the Erumpent in the room. I'll begin. I miss you, Draco. Not just in my bed, but in my life."
His words sent a rush of heat through Draco that put the coffee to shame. Potter's words were pretty, but if Draco was to be honest with himself, all they had was sex. He clutched his cup with both hands. "When have I ever been in your life?"
"Since we were eleven years old."
Draco glanced up, but Potter wasn't smiling. He meant what he'd said. Draco opened his mouth to refute Potter's assertion, but he couldn't. Instead, he repeated his earlier question. "How did you know it was me?"
Now Potter smiled. "I didn't at first," he admitted. "Few people are aware of this, but Club Coquette is imbued with magic that subtly alters its patrons' voices and appearances. For instance, in the club your eyes always seemed blue to me."
Draco's lips parted in surprise. He'd wondered how he had failed to notice Potter's signature green eyes or recognize a voice that was nearly as familiar as his own. "When did you figure it out?" he asked.
"I've known for some time."
The revelations just kept coming. "You never said anything?!"
Potter spread his hands. "The entire point of Club Coquette is its anonymity," he said. "I've recognized other patrons, but I know how to keep secrets. It would no longer be a fun, freeing experience if guests knew one another."
"Yet you say you've sussed out the identities of guests."
"The club's magic affects me differently."
Draco huffed in disbelief. "How does the club's magic affect you differently? That makes no sense."
"Because it's my magic!" Potter exclaimed, raking a hand through his hair in frustration.
"Sorry?"
Potter removed his specs and pinched the bridge of his nose. He sighed and lifted his head, meeting Draco's eyes. "I own Club Coquette. I created it. All of the magic that makes the club special is my magic."
Draco feared his mind was going to implode. He'd been hit with so many disturbing disclosures this evening that he was having difficulty processing it all. All Draco could manage to utter was, "Why?"
"Why?" Potter repeated. He leaned back in his chair. "Why create the club, do you mean?" At Draco's nod, Potter put his glasses on again and sighed once more. "I created the club because Harry Potter couldn't do anything without people remarking on it, reporting it, judging me. I wasn't able to have an affair or even go on a bloody date without seeing it in the Prophet the next day. I tried going to Muggle clubs, but even there some Squib would recognize me and tattle. It was maddening. I realized if I wanted any privacy in my most private life, the only way to do so was by remaining anonymous. Unfortunately, there was nowhere in London that met my criteria."
"So you opened an anonymous club of your own."
Potter nodded. "I opened an anonymous club of my own."
Draco gave a derisive snort. "I reckon you've had plenty of partners at your swanky sex club."
"This may surprise you, but no," said Potter. "Of course, I engaged in some one-offs, but I didn't spend much time at the club. That all changed when a beautiful bloke in a naughty corset and fuck-me boots arrived."
Potter's words gave Draco an inappropriate thrill. "Did...did you know who I was that first night?"
"No."
"You were there when I returned."
"Yes, waiting and hoping for a chance to spend more time in your company."
"Why?" asked Draco, genuinely curious.
"I found you intriguing," Potter replied. "You were gorgeous and fit, sexy and snarky. Thrilling. Interesting."
Draco dampened his dry lips. "What of the nights I didn't come to the club?"
Potter's mouth quirked in a half grin. "Are you asking if I cheated on you?"
Draco frowned. "No, I meant-"
"There's been no one for me since you, Cinderella."
Amorous Anonymity