HD500: A Burst of Belated Modesty
Title: A Burst of Belated Modesty
Author: enchanted_jae
Rating: R
Warning(s): Strong suggestion, sexual situation, language
Word Count: 655
Challenge:
- Recipient: treacle_tartlet
- Keywords: sequins, coffee, a sock
- Dialogue: "I wouldn't fuck him for practice!"
Summary: Harry wakes up with a hangover and...a sock?
Disclaimer: Characters are the property of JK Rowling, et al.
Harry awoke to the buzz of voices somewhere in the distance. Something was tickling his face, and he absently reached up to brush it away. The object fell on the pillow next to his head. Harry cracked an eye open to see a sock lying innocuously an inch from his nose. From the awful taste in his mouth, Harry wondered if he'd been chewing on said sock at some point during the night. He rolled to his back, grimacing when his stomach continued rolling and his head felt as if a hundred owls were pecking at his skull. Merlin, how much had he imbibed last night? Harry recalled drinking and dancing...dancing with whom? There was blond hair and sequins...had he gone home with a woman? He groaned in misery.
"I know you brought him home last night!" A strident female voice yelled from another part of the house. Flat?
"Don't be ridiculous, Pansy. I wouldn't fuck him for practice!" That was a male voice. Less loud, but underlined with scorn. And Pansy? Pansy Parkinson?
Harry pulled the covers over his head, wishing he could fall back to sleep and wake up in his own bed.
"You two were dancing so closely together last night, you may as well have been shagging in the club!"
"Pansy, I am not feeling well, and I must insist you leave this instant."
"Fine, but mark my words, Draco-"
Draco Malfoy?! Oh, dear Merlin. Harry swallowed convulsively.
"...if you've been bedding Harry sodding Potter, the media will be all over you like werewolves on a carcass."
"Thank you for that charming image, Pansy..."
The voices grew fainter until Harry could no longer hear them speaking. He wondered where his wand and glasses were. For that matter, where were his clothes?
The door opened quietly, and footsteps padded across the room. "I know you're awake, Potter. No one could have slept through that harpy's harangue."
Harry cringed and slowly lowered the blankets. He blinked his eyes a few times, then promptly closed them once more when Draco Malfoy came into fuzzy focus.
"Here." A cup of strong-smelling coffee was thrust under Harry's nose. "I've dosed this with hangover potion, so drink up," Malfoy ordered.
Harry sighed and sat up, waiting until his stomach ceased rebelling at the motion before he accepted the steaming cup. "Thank you," he muttered, taking a bracing sip. Instantly, he felt better, and Harry gratefully took another drink. Clutching the cup like a lifeline, Harry finally met Malfoy's eyes. "Malfoy, did we...?" he trailed off, too embarrassed to expound any further.
"Oh my, yes," Malfoy smirked. "After we came back here from the club, we spent the remainder of the night shagging like rabbits. We didn't even make it to my bedroom that first time. Instead, we fucked in the hallway, half-clothed, like randy teens."
"Oh, god."
"You seem to say that a lot," Malfoy taunted. "Oh god, ohgodohgodohgod, oh GOD!" he wailed in a passable imitation of Harry's usual orgasmic pontification.
Harry was convinced his face had just gotten hotter than the coffee in his cup. "Wh-ahem, what were you wearing last night?" Harry mumbled, trying to change the subject. His words ended on a gasp when Malfoy began inching the blankets down.
"My silver, sequined shirt and a pair of black leather trousers," Malfoy murmured, eyes hot on the skin he was slowly revealing as he bared Harry's body.
Harry's cock blossomed under Malfoy's intent and appreciative regard, and it throbbed eagerly when Malfoy reached for it. Harry gave an alarmed squeak and tried to twitch away from the questing fingers in a burst of belated modesty.
"Relax, Potter," crooned Malfoy, plucking at the crisp curls of Harry's groin. "You had a sequin stuck in your pubes."
Cross-posted to hd_500
Author: enchanted_jae
Rating: R
Warning(s): Strong suggestion, sexual situation, language
Word Count: 655
Challenge:
- Recipient: treacle_tartlet
- Keywords: sequins, coffee, a sock
- Dialogue: "I wouldn't fuck him for practice!"
Summary: Harry wakes up with a hangover and...a sock?
Disclaimer: Characters are the property of JK Rowling, et al.
Harry awoke to the buzz of voices somewhere in the distance. Something was tickling his face, and he absently reached up to brush it away. The object fell on the pillow next to his head. Harry cracked an eye open to see a sock lying innocuously an inch from his nose. From the awful taste in his mouth, Harry wondered if he'd been chewing on said sock at some point during the night. He rolled to his back, grimacing when his stomach continued rolling and his head felt as if a hundred owls were pecking at his skull. Merlin, how much had he imbibed last night? Harry recalled drinking and dancing...dancing with whom? There was blond hair and sequins...had he gone home with a woman? He groaned in misery.
"I know you brought him home last night!" A strident female voice yelled from another part of the house. Flat?
"Don't be ridiculous, Pansy. I wouldn't fuck him for practice!" That was a male voice. Less loud, but underlined with scorn. And Pansy? Pansy Parkinson?
Harry pulled the covers over his head, wishing he could fall back to sleep and wake up in his own bed.
"You two were dancing so closely together last night, you may as well have been shagging in the club!"
"Pansy, I am not feeling well, and I must insist you leave this instant."
"Fine, but mark my words, Draco-"
Draco Malfoy?! Oh, dear Merlin. Harry swallowed convulsively.
"...if you've been bedding Harry sodding Potter, the media will be all over you like werewolves on a carcass."
"Thank you for that charming image, Pansy..."
The voices grew fainter until Harry could no longer hear them speaking. He wondered where his wand and glasses were. For that matter, where were his clothes?
The door opened quietly, and footsteps padded across the room. "I know you're awake, Potter. No one could have slept through that harpy's harangue."
Harry cringed and slowly lowered the blankets. He blinked his eyes a few times, then promptly closed them once more when Draco Malfoy came into fuzzy focus.
"Here." A cup of strong-smelling coffee was thrust under Harry's nose. "I've dosed this with hangover potion, so drink up," Malfoy ordered.
Harry sighed and sat up, waiting until his stomach ceased rebelling at the motion before he accepted the steaming cup. "Thank you," he muttered, taking a bracing sip. Instantly, he felt better, and Harry gratefully took another drink. Clutching the cup like a lifeline, Harry finally met Malfoy's eyes. "Malfoy, did we...?" he trailed off, too embarrassed to expound any further.
"Oh my, yes," Malfoy smirked. "After we came back here from the club, we spent the remainder of the night shagging like rabbits. We didn't even make it to my bedroom that first time. Instead, we fucked in the hallway, half-clothed, like randy teens."
"Oh, god."
"You seem to say that a lot," Malfoy taunted. "Oh god, ohgodohgodohgod, oh GOD!" he wailed in a passable imitation of Harry's usual orgasmic pontification.
Harry was convinced his face had just gotten hotter than the coffee in his cup. "Wh-ahem, what were you wearing last night?" Harry mumbled, trying to change the subject. His words ended on a gasp when Malfoy began inching the blankets down.
"My silver, sequined shirt and a pair of black leather trousers," Malfoy murmured, eyes hot on the skin he was slowly revealing as he bared Harry's body.
Harry's cock blossomed under Malfoy's intent and appreciative regard, and it throbbed eagerly when Malfoy reached for it. Harry gave an alarmed squeak and tried to twitch away from the questing fingers in a burst of belated modesty.
"Relax, Potter," crooned Malfoy, plucking at the crisp curls of Harry's groin. "You had a sequin stuck in your pubes."
Cross-posted to hd_500