AWDT: Scar
Title: The Catbird Seat (Animal arc, part 19)
Author: enchanted_jae
Characters: H/D
Rating: PG13
Warning(s): Sexual content
Word count: 890
Disclaimer: Characters are the property of JK Rowling, et al. This drabble/fic was written for fun, not for profit.
Author's note: Written for this week's AWDT, in which the prompt was to end the story using the word scar. I worked it into my "Animal arc", and it follows Doggy Style.
Summary: A midnight refrigerator raid leads to a frank discussion.
Draco lingered in his bath, not quite willing to face Harry again. He needn't have worried. When he returned to the bedroom, Harry was gone. Draco ran a hand through his damp hair, unsure whether he was disappointed or relieved. Deciding it was perhaps a good thing that he was granted a reprieve in order to think about his situation, Draco shuffled over to the bed, only to be tantalized by the lingering scent of sex. His cock twitched with interest, and Draco scowled and pressed one hand against his willful flesh in an effort to calm himself.
Another part of his body suddenly demanded attention as his stomach rumbled its protest at having missed dinner. Recalling that Harry had raided the kitchen once and brought him cookies, Draco decided to make his own foray now in search of food. Maeve was always after him to eat more, so surely she wouldn't scold him if he were caught.
Making his way through the darkened house, Draco entered the kitchen, only to find he wasn't the only one intent on raiding the larder.
Harry looked up as Draco wandered into the kitchen. "I'm making a sandwich from the roast Maeve made for dinner," he said. "Would you like one?" Draco nodded and asked if he could help, and Harry instructed him to pour them each a glass of milk.
They settled down to eat, tucking into their impromptu meal with hungry gusto. They ended up eating two sandwiches each, then Harry rummaged about until he came up with what was left of the peach pie. One slice was all that remained in the pan. Stifling a sigh of disappointment, Harry played the part of proper host and offered the pie to Draco.
Draco struggled to hide his grin. It was obvious that Harry really wanted a piece of pie, yet he was being generous by pretending he didn't. Draco considered the amusement he would gain by cheerfully accepting the last piece and making a great show of how much he was enjoying it, but in the end, he magnanimously suggested they share. The smile on Harry's face was worth it.
They ate in companionable silence until Harry worked up the nerve to break it. He cleared his throat to get Draco's attention, then asked, "So, where do we go from here?"
Draco fought the urge to squirm uncomfortably. Leave it to the Gryffindor to boldly bring the subject up. Pushing aside the last couple bites of his pie, he took a deep breath and stated his case. "I haven't forgiven you yet, Harry. I don't know if I ever will." Taking note of the stricken expression on the other's face, he added, "However, I'm not adverse to resuming at least a part of our relationship."
Harry swallowed heavily. This was at once both more and less than he had hoped for. "What, exactly, do you mean?" he asked, wanting to be sure there were no further misunderstandings between them.
Draco felt his face flush, but he bravely forged ahead. "I missed the intimacy between us," he replied. "And as long as I'm here for another two months, I see no reason why we can't indulge in the odd shag every now and again."
"Every now and again?" Harry echoed faintly, his heart clenching painfully.
One of Draco's hands plowed through his hair. "My life is almost completely out of my control right now, and I don't like it," he stated. "I need to establish some control, especially over something as intimate as sex." He raised his head and met Harry's eyes. "To that end, I wish to maintain separate bedrooms, and I don't want you to pressure me for sex. I'll let you know when I'm ready and willing."
Harry fiddled with the fork he was still holding, mulling over Draco's stipulations. His pride rebelled, urging him to demand double or nothing from his lover, but his hopeful heart cautioned him to take what he could get and use it as a basis to regain Draco's trust. "So, you want to sit in the catbird seat, yeah?" he asked.
Draco remained silent, but his shrug indicated take it, or leave it. Inside, he was a nervous wreck. What if Harry pushed for more? Would he be able to resist? Worse yet, what if Harry refused him completely? Harry could always leave the estate and find a tumble elsewhere, but Draco didn't fancy being celibate for the next several weeks or trying to cajole a shag out of Stuart.
Finally, Harry reached a decision. "Very well, Draco," he sighed. "I agree to your terms."
Draco released a pent-up breath, relieved that, in this at least, he would get his way.
Harry was disappointed in the bargain he'd struck, but he reckoned that it would at least give him a chance to win Draco back. If he was fortunate, Draco would opt to warm his bed more often than not, and he could use those moments to his advantage, taking the opportunity to reinforce what they had between them and remind Draco of how it could always be. Lost in thought, Harry reached up and absently rubbed his scar.
~tbc~
Additional author's note: In accordance with Wikipedia, "the catbird seat" is an idiomatic phrase used to describe an enviable position, often one of great advantage.
Shagging Like Rabbits
Author: enchanted_jae
Characters: H/D
Rating: PG13
Warning(s): Sexual content
Word count: 890
Disclaimer: Characters are the property of JK Rowling, et al. This drabble/fic was written for fun, not for profit.
Author's note: Written for this week's AWDT, in which the prompt was to end the story using the word scar. I worked it into my "Animal arc", and it follows Doggy Style.
Summary: A midnight refrigerator raid leads to a frank discussion.
Draco lingered in his bath, not quite willing to face Harry again. He needn't have worried. When he returned to the bedroom, Harry was gone. Draco ran a hand through his damp hair, unsure whether he was disappointed or relieved. Deciding it was perhaps a good thing that he was granted a reprieve in order to think about his situation, Draco shuffled over to the bed, only to be tantalized by the lingering scent of sex. His cock twitched with interest, and Draco scowled and pressed one hand against his willful flesh in an effort to calm himself.
Another part of his body suddenly demanded attention as his stomach rumbled its protest at having missed dinner. Recalling that Harry had raided the kitchen once and brought him cookies, Draco decided to make his own foray now in search of food. Maeve was always after him to eat more, so surely she wouldn't scold him if he were caught.
Making his way through the darkened house, Draco entered the kitchen, only to find he wasn't the only one intent on raiding the larder.
Harry looked up as Draco wandered into the kitchen. "I'm making a sandwich from the roast Maeve made for dinner," he said. "Would you like one?" Draco nodded and asked if he could help, and Harry instructed him to pour them each a glass of milk.
They settled down to eat, tucking into their impromptu meal with hungry gusto. They ended up eating two sandwiches each, then Harry rummaged about until he came up with what was left of the peach pie. One slice was all that remained in the pan. Stifling a sigh of disappointment, Harry played the part of proper host and offered the pie to Draco.
Draco struggled to hide his grin. It was obvious that Harry really wanted a piece of pie, yet he was being generous by pretending he didn't. Draco considered the amusement he would gain by cheerfully accepting the last piece and making a great show of how much he was enjoying it, but in the end, he magnanimously suggested they share. The smile on Harry's face was worth it.
They ate in companionable silence until Harry worked up the nerve to break it. He cleared his throat to get Draco's attention, then asked, "So, where do we go from here?"
Draco fought the urge to squirm uncomfortably. Leave it to the Gryffindor to boldly bring the subject up. Pushing aside the last couple bites of his pie, he took a deep breath and stated his case. "I haven't forgiven you yet, Harry. I don't know if I ever will." Taking note of the stricken expression on the other's face, he added, "However, I'm not adverse to resuming at least a part of our relationship."
Harry swallowed heavily. This was at once both more and less than he had hoped for. "What, exactly, do you mean?" he asked, wanting to be sure there were no further misunderstandings between them.
Draco felt his face flush, but he bravely forged ahead. "I missed the intimacy between us," he replied. "And as long as I'm here for another two months, I see no reason why we can't indulge in the odd shag every now and again."
"Every now and again?" Harry echoed faintly, his heart clenching painfully.
One of Draco's hands plowed through his hair. "My life is almost completely out of my control right now, and I don't like it," he stated. "I need to establish some control, especially over something as intimate as sex." He raised his head and met Harry's eyes. "To that end, I wish to maintain separate bedrooms, and I don't want you to pressure me for sex. I'll let you know when I'm ready and willing."
Harry fiddled with the fork he was still holding, mulling over Draco's stipulations. His pride rebelled, urging him to demand double or nothing from his lover, but his hopeful heart cautioned him to take what he could get and use it as a basis to regain Draco's trust. "So, you want to sit in the catbird seat, yeah?" he asked.
Draco remained silent, but his shrug indicated take it, or leave it. Inside, he was a nervous wreck. What if Harry pushed for more? Would he be able to resist? Worse yet, what if Harry refused him completely? Harry could always leave the estate and find a tumble elsewhere, but Draco didn't fancy being celibate for the next several weeks or trying to cajole a shag out of Stuart.
Finally, Harry reached a decision. "Very well, Draco," he sighed. "I agree to your terms."
Draco released a pent-up breath, relieved that, in this at least, he would get his way.
Harry was disappointed in the bargain he'd struck, but he reckoned that it would at least give him a chance to win Draco back. If he was fortunate, Draco would opt to warm his bed more often than not, and he could use those moments to his advantage, taking the opportunity to reinforce what they had between them and remind Draco of how it could always be. Lost in thought, Harry reached up and absently rubbed his scar.
~tbc~
Additional author's note: In accordance with Wikipedia, "the catbird seat" is an idiomatic phrase used to describe an enviable position, often one of great advantage.
Shagging Like Rabbits