The Plan
upon posting this i learned that the spelling of enquire/inquire is different depending on country too. you really do learn something new every day :)
any july birthday people who want a fic? just leave a pairing and prompt and i'll probably get it to you two weeks later ;)
Title: The Plan
Author: idontgiveafaux
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Prompt: Chocolate scented body lotion
Word Count: 1500
Summary: Harry Potter, you are in deep shit…
Warnings: (at your discretion) Language, some sex talk
Notes: Belated Birthday gift!fic for enchanted_jae x
Harry had left the house that morning a nervous wreck, was practically full from a constant meal of bitten nails by lunchtime and was positively shaking when it was almost time to return home from work that afternoon. He was in deep shit. It had been a complete accident when he knocked his glass over yesterday evening while Draco was upstairs, entirely spilling the contents of his red wine and leaving an accusing, crimson stain on Draco’s favourite (most expensive) previously pristinely white jacket. And in hindsight, digging a deeper hole for himself by hiding said jacket and innocently protesting he didn’t know its whereabouts when they were about to leave for a meal half an hour later didn’t help matters much either. Especially considering his hiding place was nothing more than bundling the jacket out of the window in a panic when he heard Draco coming downstairs. But the biggest mistake of all was Harry creeping out of bed in the middle of the night and slipping into the back garden to retrieve the jacket which was now stained not only red, but muddy brown too, leaving no traces of its original white colour to be seen. He knew his life would be on the line should he mess up a delicate spell with a clumsy hand and so reasoned with himself that nothing could go wrong (certainly no worse) if he did it the Muggle way and put it in the washing machine and crept back upstairs.
Draco was still asleep when he rose early this morning and he took advantage of the opportunity to get downstairs first and put the jacket somewhere where he could ‘find’ it later. If he got out of this one unscathed and Draco being so grateful that he managed to find the jacket that he’d get some extra sexual favours tonight it would be a double win. But to his horror, when he pulled the jacket out of the washing machine he found that it had shrunk to at least half its original size. He didn’t know what to do, so, after bundling the jacket back into the washing machine (along with other dirty clothes to conceal it) and aiding himself with various spells to help get ready for work faster, he got out of the house as quickly as he could and without seeing Draco once.
He’d only been at work for an hour when he received the text message from Draco. This was a chilling event in itself because Draco hardly ever summoned the patience to get to grips with the button pressing on a mobile phone to send a message - unless he was so mad with him that he’d actually take his time and keep his temper in check to manage to write out a message just to let him know that he was angry with him. And it worked. HARRY POTTER YOU ARE IN DEEP SHIT, it read. Harry had immediately deleted it as if that would make the problem go away. It didn’t, and neither did his panic.
He’d nearly fainted when he heard the price and didn’t dare inquire about his bank balance when he drew out the money to make the purchase but he felt an awful lot better when he made his way home that evening. Even so, when he laid eyes on Draco, who was sat in front of the television, concentrating on the screen so hard it was as if he was trying to burn lasers through it, he gulped. About to placate him with the duplicate jacket in one of the bags he was holding, Draco had suddenly started to rant about how the only possible explanation for his missing jacket must have occurred during the party they’d held on Saturday. Harry nodded thoughtfully while hiding the bags behind his back though Draco was so irate at still not finding the missing garment he hadn’t even registered Harry was holding, let alone trying to hide anything. Then Harry forced Draco to take a hot, soothing bath and even when he tried to protest, saying that he needed to find the jacket before his meeting in a couple of hours, Harry still insisted that he did so and wouldn’t hear another word about it.
Harry Potter was being treated like a king. He’d managed to ‘come to the rescue’ and found Draco’s jacket in the nick of time, resulting (in Draco’s own tearful words) in him going to the meeting in a white jacket and therefore getting the desired promotion he’d been hoping to achieve. Harry didn’t see how this helped at all but didn’t ask as Draco sank to his knees immediately after telling him how much he loved him and showed him how grateful he was. After he indulged himself in a lengthy hot bath while Draco prepared dinner and then watched a little television while Draco fed him grapes, he lay face down on the bed and sighed when Draco’s firm hands started to knead at his shoulders, massaging away the pent-up tension he’d had throughout the day and coating his skin in a layer of rich-smelling chocolate scented body lotion. He let out a low, contented growl and heard Draco snicker behind him before his hands moved lower down.
Harry growled again, this time his approval, and then murmured lazily, “Need to fuck you. Now.” The words had barely left his lips before Draco was on the bed next to him, pulling down his boxers.
“No,” said Harry. “Get the uniform.” Draco grinned and complied at once and Harry closed his eyes and sighed contentedly. Being in charge was fucking fantastic and it was all down to his cleverness. He inhaled the rich scent of the chocolate Draco had dutifully rubbed into his skin and sighed again. This was the life. He heard a cough at the bedroom door and he opened his eyes and grinned when he saw Draco in his old school uniform. Draco’s features hadn’t changed that much, so whenever he wore it (and it was very rare) Harry could almost imagine he was drilling his worst enemy and it always made for a highly aggressive fuck. His cock instantly stiffened and he was about to roll onto his back and snap his fingers in an indication for Draco to sit on his dick when he found heavy binds snap down against his back, constricting any possible movement entirely and he found it quite difficult to breathe.
“I found the uniform in the washing machine,” Draco informed him coldly. “It got a little dirty the last time it was used, I recall.”
Harry blinked stupidly, still unaware of what he’d done to warrant being tied to the bed. How was the uniform being dirty his fault?
“Guess what else I found in there?” Draco continued, and then produced the traitorous shrunken jacket from behind his back.
Harry gulped. He was in the most vulnerable of positions and he didn’t know whether it was best to stay silent or try to worm his way out of it.
“Did you really think I wouldn’t find out?”
“Well you’ve never used the washing machine in your life!” Harry joked and then his eyes widened as Draco began to stride over furiously. “Sorry! Sorry! Sorry!” Harry repeated desperately but futilely and then screamed unashamedly when Draco delivered a stinging slap on each of his arse cheeks.
“Shut your mouth!” Draco snarled. “I was blaming everyone at the party and all the time it was you who had stolen it?”
“I didn’t steal -”
“I said, shut your mouth!” Draco roared. “If you didn’t steal it then what, you just thought it would be funny to hide it from me?”
“I wasn’t - ”
“SHUT UP! I was devastated about that jacket and you just pretended that you didn’t know where it was?”
Harry stayed silent, having learnt his lesson by now.
“I’m talking to you, answer me!” Draco snapped.
“W-Well - I - I bought you another one,” Harry stammered. “So now it’s like you have two! Well, one and a half.” Harry cursed whatever inner conscious had told his brain that it would be a good idea to make a joke at a time like this and he screwed up his eyes and grit his teeth in pain as Draco grabbed a fistful of his hair and jerked his neck back as much as it would go against the hold of the binds still pinning him to the bed.
“Don’t. Get. Smart. With. Me,” Draco spat venomously before he let go and moved to the back of the bed and out of Harry’s line of vision. The actual wait was scarier than the wrath that came after it and Draco fully well knew it. Harry’s world was thrown into darkness when Draco spelled the bedroom light out and slammed the door shut.
His punishment was going to be dire and Harry wouldn’t mind admitting that he whimpered at the thought of it, all the while knowing that his thoughts wouldn’t even be close to what Draco had planned.
any july birthday people who want a fic? just leave a pairing and prompt and i'll probably get it to you two weeks later ;)
Title: The Plan
Author: idontgiveafaux
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Prompt: Chocolate scented body lotion
Word Count: 1500
Summary: Harry Potter, you are in deep shit…
Warnings: (at your discretion) Language, some sex talk
Notes: Belated Birthday gift!fic for enchanted_jae x
Harry had left the house that morning a nervous wreck, was practically full from a constant meal of bitten nails by lunchtime and was positively shaking when it was almost time to return home from work that afternoon. He was in deep shit. It had been a complete accident when he knocked his glass over yesterday evening while Draco was upstairs, entirely spilling the contents of his red wine and leaving an accusing, crimson stain on Draco’s favourite (most expensive) previously pristinely white jacket. And in hindsight, digging a deeper hole for himself by hiding said jacket and innocently protesting he didn’t know its whereabouts when they were about to leave for a meal half an hour later didn’t help matters much either. Especially considering his hiding place was nothing more than bundling the jacket out of the window in a panic when he heard Draco coming downstairs. But the biggest mistake of all was Harry creeping out of bed in the middle of the night and slipping into the back garden to retrieve the jacket which was now stained not only red, but muddy brown too, leaving no traces of its original white colour to be seen. He knew his life would be on the line should he mess up a delicate spell with a clumsy hand and so reasoned with himself that nothing could go wrong (certainly no worse) if he did it the Muggle way and put it in the washing machine and crept back upstairs.
Draco was still asleep when he rose early this morning and he took advantage of the opportunity to get downstairs first and put the jacket somewhere where he could ‘find’ it later. If he got out of this one unscathed and Draco being so grateful that he managed to find the jacket that he’d get some extra sexual favours tonight it would be a double win. But to his horror, when he pulled the jacket out of the washing machine he found that it had shrunk to at least half its original size. He didn’t know what to do, so, after bundling the jacket back into the washing machine (along with other dirty clothes to conceal it) and aiding himself with various spells to help get ready for work faster, he got out of the house as quickly as he could and without seeing Draco once.
He’d only been at work for an hour when he received the text message from Draco. This was a chilling event in itself because Draco hardly ever summoned the patience to get to grips with the button pressing on a mobile phone to send a message - unless he was so mad with him that he’d actually take his time and keep his temper in check to manage to write out a message just to let him know that he was angry with him. And it worked. HARRY POTTER YOU ARE IN DEEP SHIT, it read. Harry had immediately deleted it as if that would make the problem go away. It didn’t, and neither did his panic.
He’d nearly fainted when he heard the price and didn’t dare inquire about his bank balance when he drew out the money to make the purchase but he felt an awful lot better when he made his way home that evening. Even so, when he laid eyes on Draco, who was sat in front of the television, concentrating on the screen so hard it was as if he was trying to burn lasers through it, he gulped. About to placate him with the duplicate jacket in one of the bags he was holding, Draco had suddenly started to rant about how the only possible explanation for his missing jacket must have occurred during the party they’d held on Saturday. Harry nodded thoughtfully while hiding the bags behind his back though Draco was so irate at still not finding the missing garment he hadn’t even registered Harry was holding, let alone trying to hide anything. Then Harry forced Draco to take a hot, soothing bath and even when he tried to protest, saying that he needed to find the jacket before his meeting in a couple of hours, Harry still insisted that he did so and wouldn’t hear another word about it.
Harry Potter was being treated like a king. He’d managed to ‘come to the rescue’ and found Draco’s jacket in the nick of time, resulting (in Draco’s own tearful words) in him going to the meeting in a white jacket and therefore getting the desired promotion he’d been hoping to achieve. Harry didn’t see how this helped at all but didn’t ask as Draco sank to his knees immediately after telling him how much he loved him and showed him how grateful he was. After he indulged himself in a lengthy hot bath while Draco prepared dinner and then watched a little television while Draco fed him grapes, he lay face down on the bed and sighed when Draco’s firm hands started to knead at his shoulders, massaging away the pent-up tension he’d had throughout the day and coating his skin in a layer of rich-smelling chocolate scented body lotion. He let out a low, contented growl and heard Draco snicker behind him before his hands moved lower down.
Harry growled again, this time his approval, and then murmured lazily, “Need to fuck you. Now.” The words had barely left his lips before Draco was on the bed next to him, pulling down his boxers.
“No,” said Harry. “Get the uniform.” Draco grinned and complied at once and Harry closed his eyes and sighed contentedly. Being in charge was fucking fantastic and it was all down to his cleverness. He inhaled the rich scent of the chocolate Draco had dutifully rubbed into his skin and sighed again. This was the life. He heard a cough at the bedroom door and he opened his eyes and grinned when he saw Draco in his old school uniform. Draco’s features hadn’t changed that much, so whenever he wore it (and it was very rare) Harry could almost imagine he was drilling his worst enemy and it always made for a highly aggressive fuck. His cock instantly stiffened and he was about to roll onto his back and snap his fingers in an indication for Draco to sit on his dick when he found heavy binds snap down against his back, constricting any possible movement entirely and he found it quite difficult to breathe.
“I found the uniform in the washing machine,” Draco informed him coldly. “It got a little dirty the last time it was used, I recall.”
Harry blinked stupidly, still unaware of what he’d done to warrant being tied to the bed. How was the uniform being dirty his fault?
“Guess what else I found in there?” Draco continued, and then produced the traitorous shrunken jacket from behind his back.
Harry gulped. He was in the most vulnerable of positions and he didn’t know whether it was best to stay silent or try to worm his way out of it.
“Did you really think I wouldn’t find out?”
“Well you’ve never used the washing machine in your life!” Harry joked and then his eyes widened as Draco began to stride over furiously. “Sorry! Sorry! Sorry!” Harry repeated desperately but futilely and then screamed unashamedly when Draco delivered a stinging slap on each of his arse cheeks.
“Shut your mouth!” Draco snarled. “I was blaming everyone at the party and all the time it was you who had stolen it?”
“I didn’t steal -”
“I said, shut your mouth!” Draco roared. “If you didn’t steal it then what, you just thought it would be funny to hide it from me?”
“I wasn’t - ”
“SHUT UP! I was devastated about that jacket and you just pretended that you didn’t know where it was?”
Harry stayed silent, having learnt his lesson by now.
“I’m talking to you, answer me!” Draco snapped.
“W-Well - I - I bought you another one,” Harry stammered. “So now it’s like you have two! Well, one and a half.” Harry cursed whatever inner conscious had told his brain that it would be a good idea to make a joke at a time like this and he screwed up his eyes and grit his teeth in pain as Draco grabbed a fistful of his hair and jerked his neck back as much as it would go against the hold of the binds still pinning him to the bed.
“Don’t. Get. Smart. With. Me,” Draco spat venomously before he let go and moved to the back of the bed and out of Harry’s line of vision. The actual wait was scarier than the wrath that came after it and Draco fully well knew it. Harry’s world was thrown into darkness when Draco spelled the bedroom light out and slammed the door shut.
His punishment was going to be dire and Harry wouldn’t mind admitting that he whimpered at the thought of it, all the while knowing that his thoughts wouldn’t even be close to what Draco had planned.