Amorous Anonymity
Title: Amorous Anonymity
Author: enchanted_jae
Characters: Draco, Harry
Rating: PG13
Warning(s): Angst
Word count: 1040
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 lyonessheart who requested more of Club Coquette
Summary: There's no going back.
"There's been no one for me since you, Cinderella."
A small part of Draco thrilled to those words, but the larger, more realistic part of him squashed it down. Potter was famous, wealthy, and handsome. Witches and wizards must fling themselves at him on a daily, if not hourly, basis. Draco raised his chin and gathered his tattered dignity. "Do you expect me to believe that?" Surely, Potter was merely flattering him.
Potter had the nerve to chuckle. "You didn't leave me enough energy to shag someone else."
Draco's lips quirked the tiniest amount before he corralled his expression. It wouldn't do for Potter to think he found him amusing. He affected a mien of nonchalance and asked, "Did you ever wonder if I was shagging outside the club?" He hadn't been, of course, and for much the same reason.
Potter's easy smile faded. "I did wonder, yes, but I reckoned you'd have had to be extremely discreet for any fling you engaged in not to end up in the Prophet. Aside from that, I knew you were expending an enormous amount of energy dodging Todd the Troll."
Draco sat up straight at the mention of Todd. "Mum is probably wondering where I am. I'll be fortunate if she hasn't summoned the DMLE." She was either frantic with worry or furious at him for leaving her behind. And not only her, but Todd, whom she'd been trying to fob off on Draco for months.
"Relax, Cinderella," said Potter. "The bartender saw us leave together. Your mum may not approve, but if she contacts the Ministry to say that her son skived off with Harry Potter, I doubt they'll launch an investigation."
"Arrogant much?" Draco challenged with a raised brow.
"Confident," Potter corrected him immediately.
And why shouldn't he be? Potter may not work for the DMLE, but they would fall over themselves to do his bidding if he but snapped his fingers.
Draco sighed and looked away. This banter was all well and good, and delightfully, infuriatingly familiar, but it was getting them nowhere. "There's still an Erumpent in the room," he pointed out, voice low and hesitant.
"It's an Erumpent that only you can vanquish and Vanish, Draco."
Startled by Potter's use of his given name, Draco glanced up at him again quickly. "How do you reckon?"
Potter leaned forward to rest his elbows on his thighs and allow his hands to dangle between his knees. "I am at peace with who my mystery lover turned out to be," he said. "Are you?"
"I don't know." It was the most honest answer Draco could give at that moment, although the confession left him feeling torn and confused. He was forced to remind himself that this was what he'd wanted, what he'd angled for when he told Zee he was ready for them to reveal themselves to one another. At that time, however, he was simply hoping that his anonymous lover would be pleasing to look at and someone whom he could introduce to his mother if things got that far.
Instead, he'd pulled Harry bloody Potter.
Potter was handsome, true, and his mum might even be thrilled if Draco brought him to dinner, but...he was Harry bloody Potter.
Trying to spend time in Potter's company away from Club Coquette would completely upend Draco's orderly life. Potter had the right of it in that they would be carrying on their affair under intense public scrutiny. When he was young, Draco had fantasized about that level of fame. Now that he was a mature adult, he realized how bloody awful that would be.
"What are you thinking?"
Silence had stretched between them for so long that Draco was almost startled to hear Potter speak.
Draco leaned forward and massaged his forehead. Not only was a dull ache forming there, but it relieved him of the necessity of looking at Potter when he replied. "I'm wishing I'd never asked you to take your mask off."
It was brutal, but it was honest.
Silence fell between them again. Draco's courage had deserted him, and he couldn't even pick his head up, let alone meet Potter's eyes. Draco heard movement and dared a peek. Potter had leaned back in his seat, and Draco felt the distance keenly.
Potter drummed the fingers of his right hand on his knee. "We could go back to simply meeting at the club, in full costume, if that's what you'd like."
The thought percolated in Draco's mind. They could go back to just being Cinderella and Zee again. He did miss those nights, the amorous anonymity of it all, the sheer eroticism of having wildly carnal sex with a stranger, whether in private or surrounded by the avid gazes of other strangers.
Just thinking about their escapades at Club Coquette caused a thrill to slither up Draco's spine. He shifted in his chair and hoped that Potter didn't guess how aroused he was becoming. Draco stroked his chin thoughtfully. Yes, the excitement of anonymous sex was what had initially drawn him to the club, and it was the reason he'd returned again and again. At least, at first.
Gradually, however, Draco hadn't patronized the club simply for the hedonistic thrill, but rather because he was becoming more and more enamored of his mystery lover. They'd had more than sex. He and Zee--Potter--had dined together at the club, danced, attended shows, and engaged in some voyeurism of their own when other patrons indulged their desires in public places. They had even, quite literally, slept together.
Draco had felt a connection to Zee, in spite of how little he knew about him. That, more than the sex, was what he had begun to cherish. Now without that connection, Draco was left floundering and feeling bereft.
Potter's suggestion that they reclaim their club personas and carry on as if they remained anonymous to one another would never work. Draco would know it was Potter. He wasn't convinced he could take up where they'd left off and resume their torrid affair. It wouldn't be the same. Nothing would.
Draco sat up straight and drew in a steadying breath. He met Potter's eyes and said, "I don't believe we can go back."
Wayward Wonderings
Author: enchanted_jae
Characters: Draco, Harry
Rating: PG13
Warning(s): Angst
Word count: 1040
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 lyonessheart who requested more of Club Coquette
Summary: There's no going back.
"There's been no one for me since you, Cinderella."
A small part of Draco thrilled to those words, but the larger, more realistic part of him squashed it down. Potter was famous, wealthy, and handsome. Witches and wizards must fling themselves at him on a daily, if not hourly, basis. Draco raised his chin and gathered his tattered dignity. "Do you expect me to believe that?" Surely, Potter was merely flattering him.
Potter had the nerve to chuckle. "You didn't leave me enough energy to shag someone else."
Draco's lips quirked the tiniest amount before he corralled his expression. It wouldn't do for Potter to think he found him amusing. He affected a mien of nonchalance and asked, "Did you ever wonder if I was shagging outside the club?" He hadn't been, of course, and for much the same reason.
Potter's easy smile faded. "I did wonder, yes, but I reckoned you'd have had to be extremely discreet for any fling you engaged in not to end up in the Prophet. Aside from that, I knew you were expending an enormous amount of energy dodging Todd the Troll."
Draco sat up straight at the mention of Todd. "Mum is probably wondering where I am. I'll be fortunate if she hasn't summoned the DMLE." She was either frantic with worry or furious at him for leaving her behind. And not only her, but Todd, whom she'd been trying to fob off on Draco for months.
"Relax, Cinderella," said Potter. "The bartender saw us leave together. Your mum may not approve, but if she contacts the Ministry to say that her son skived off with Harry Potter, I doubt they'll launch an investigation."
"Arrogant much?" Draco challenged with a raised brow.
"Confident," Potter corrected him immediately.
And why shouldn't he be? Potter may not work for the DMLE, but they would fall over themselves to do his bidding if he but snapped his fingers.
Draco sighed and looked away. This banter was all well and good, and delightfully, infuriatingly familiar, but it was getting them nowhere. "There's still an Erumpent in the room," he pointed out, voice low and hesitant.
"It's an Erumpent that only you can vanquish and Vanish, Draco."
Startled by Potter's use of his given name, Draco glanced up at him again quickly. "How do you reckon?"
Potter leaned forward to rest his elbows on his thighs and allow his hands to dangle between his knees. "I am at peace with who my mystery lover turned out to be," he said. "Are you?"
"I don't know." It was the most honest answer Draco could give at that moment, although the confession left him feeling torn and confused. He was forced to remind himself that this was what he'd wanted, what he'd angled for when he told Zee he was ready for them to reveal themselves to one another. At that time, however, he was simply hoping that his anonymous lover would be pleasing to look at and someone whom he could introduce to his mother if things got that far.
Instead, he'd pulled Harry bloody Potter.
Potter was handsome, true, and his mum might even be thrilled if Draco brought him to dinner, but...he was Harry bloody Potter.
Trying to spend time in Potter's company away from Club Coquette would completely upend Draco's orderly life. Potter had the right of it in that they would be carrying on their affair under intense public scrutiny. When he was young, Draco had fantasized about that level of fame. Now that he was a mature adult, he realized how bloody awful that would be.
"What are you thinking?"
Silence had stretched between them for so long that Draco was almost startled to hear Potter speak.
Draco leaned forward and massaged his forehead. Not only was a dull ache forming there, but it relieved him of the necessity of looking at Potter when he replied. "I'm wishing I'd never asked you to take your mask off."
It was brutal, but it was honest.
Silence fell between them again. Draco's courage had deserted him, and he couldn't even pick his head up, let alone meet Potter's eyes. Draco heard movement and dared a peek. Potter had leaned back in his seat, and Draco felt the distance keenly.
Potter drummed the fingers of his right hand on his knee. "We could go back to simply meeting at the club, in full costume, if that's what you'd like."
The thought percolated in Draco's mind. They could go back to just being Cinderella and Zee again. He did miss those nights, the amorous anonymity of it all, the sheer eroticism of having wildly carnal sex with a stranger, whether in private or surrounded by the avid gazes of other strangers.
Just thinking about their escapades at Club Coquette caused a thrill to slither up Draco's spine. He shifted in his chair and hoped that Potter didn't guess how aroused he was becoming. Draco stroked his chin thoughtfully. Yes, the excitement of anonymous sex was what had initially drawn him to the club, and it was the reason he'd returned again and again. At least, at first.
Gradually, however, Draco hadn't patronized the club simply for the hedonistic thrill, but rather because he was becoming more and more enamored of his mystery lover. They'd had more than sex. He and Zee--Potter--had dined together at the club, danced, attended shows, and engaged in some voyeurism of their own when other patrons indulged their desires in public places. They had even, quite literally, slept together.
Draco had felt a connection to Zee, in spite of how little he knew about him. That, more than the sex, was what he had begun to cherish. Now without that connection, Draco was left floundering and feeling bereft.
Potter's suggestion that they reclaim their club personas and carry on as if they remained anonymous to one another would never work. Draco would know it was Potter. He wasn't convinced he could take up where they'd left off and resume their torrid affair. It wouldn't be the same. Nothing would.
Draco sat up straight and drew in a steadying breath. He met Potter's eyes and said, "I don't believe we can go back."
Wayward Wonderings