Gift Fic: Asking Him Out [Harry/Draco - PG - 800]
Title: Asking Him Out
Author: joan_waterhouse
written for: cassie_black12's prompt: snowman
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Harry / Draco
Rating: PG
Word Count: ~ 800
Summary: Harry's Gryffindor daring had always deserted him in the love department. Even back in his schooldays, when hormones were running high and it really should have been easy to turn off his brain, he could barely talk around the people he'd a crush on. But now it was simply ridiculous.
A/N: Advent is over and I finally have the time (and muse) to get on with my advent-drabbles. A bit late, but I hope you enjoy it anyway. :)
Disclaimer: Harry Potter is owned by J.K. Rowling and Warner Brothers. No copyright infringement intended.
Asking Him Out
That was that. It hadn't gone as horribly wrong as it could have gone. Except that Malfoy obviously hadn't clued in on this being a date. Oh well, maybe Harry should have phrased it a bit differently. Maybe just inviting a work colleague over for mulled wine at your place was too subtle. Which was strange, since Harry'd have thought that Malfoy would like subtle. Maybe what really had been the problem was that along with Malfoy Harry had invited the entire Auror Department. The desire to whack himself over the head grew stronger by the minute.
He was pathetic. He knew that. His Gryffindor daring had always deserted him in the love department. Even back in his schooldays, when hormones were running high and it really should have been easy to turn off his brain he could barely talk around the people he'd a crush on. But now it was simply ridiculous. Harry was a grown man, for heaven's sake, he should be able to approach the person he fancied and ask them out on a date. A real date. Having dinner, or going to the movies, something, anything that was really, obviously and undeniably a date. Instead he was now left with a dinner table full of dishes that needed cleaning and possibly a hangover come morning.
Less than enthusiastically he started to collect the empty mugs. There was the red one with the grinning snowman. It was Harry's favourite and he'd made sure that Malfoy would get to use it. Because only the best was good enough for Malfoy. If he didn't have a fancy china set, the least he could do was offering him his favourite mug. Was this really just how sappy he'd become? The alcohol must have addled his brain.
He turned the mug over in his hand. Right above the snowman's hat sat a lip shaped stain. Harry never knew that it was possible to be jealous of a piece of china, but this was where Malfoy's lips had been. Those wonderfully manly lips. Narrow, but perfectly symmetric and - perfect. Just looking at this stain and imagining how it'd got there made Harry's mind go to delicious places. Malfoy had lifted the mug like this, smelled the heavy scent of the hot spices, licked his lips and then placed them…
The cold china startled Harry awake. He couldn't possibly have! His lower lip now tasted sweet and sticky. The realisation that what he tasted was wine from Malfoy's lips made him feel giddy. And a tiny bit dirty. His heart began to pound stronger with the ideas his brain brought up. He could swear the snowman was mocking him. But what of it? This was his mug anyway and he was alone in his own living room. Nobody would see. Nobody would know.
Slowly he lifted the mug to his lips again and carefully, very carefully he stuck out his tongue. It was a bit anticlimactic, it was just a mug after all, but Harry couldn't deny that he was at least a little bit turned on. Once he'd started it was hard to stop letting his tongue slide over the place Malfoy's mouth had been only minutes ago.
"Forgot my scarf," someone muttered.
It isn't possible to measure the amount of mortification that washed over Harry, when he registered that he hadn't been alone at all. He spun around, clutching the mug in his shivering hands.
Malfoy's eyes were fixed on the mug in Harry's hand and when they finally did move away, they just got as far as Harry's lips.
"I…," Harry tried to explain, "Um. I just…"
Malfoy came closer, which did nothing to further Harry's eloquence. It was hard enough to try to stop his brain from constantly screaming, "I want him. I want him. I want him," like some stupid, needy parrot.
Malfoy was directly in front of him now; Harry could almost feel his breath on his lips. Staying conscious proved more and more of an effort. Malfoy leant forward. Oh, Merlin, he was going to kiss him; it was going to really happen. Harry nearly fainted. But the bastard just drew back and smirked.
"You'll pick me up tomorrow at seven. I'm not easy, Potter. So, no kissing before the third date. But because I'm a generous person I'll let this count as number one." And he was gone.
Harry flopped down in the next best chair and set the mug down on the table with a clang. It was all a bit much. But he guessed he got what he wanted.
~~~ end ~~~
Author: joan_waterhouse
written for: cassie_black12's prompt: snowman
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Harry / Draco
Rating: PG
Word Count: ~ 800
Summary: Harry's Gryffindor daring had always deserted him in the love department. Even back in his schooldays, when hormones were running high and it really should have been easy to turn off his brain, he could barely talk around the people he'd a crush on. But now it was simply ridiculous.
A/N: Advent is over and I finally have the time (and muse) to get on with my advent-drabbles. A bit late, but I hope you enjoy it anyway. :)
Disclaimer: Harry Potter is owned by J.K. Rowling and Warner Brothers. No copyright infringement intended.
Asking Him Out
That was that. It hadn't gone as horribly wrong as it could have gone. Except that Malfoy obviously hadn't clued in on this being a date. Oh well, maybe Harry should have phrased it a bit differently. Maybe just inviting a work colleague over for mulled wine at your place was too subtle. Which was strange, since Harry'd have thought that Malfoy would like subtle. Maybe what really had been the problem was that along with Malfoy Harry had invited the entire Auror Department. The desire to whack himself over the head grew stronger by the minute.
He was pathetic. He knew that. His Gryffindor daring had always deserted him in the love department. Even back in his schooldays, when hormones were running high and it really should have been easy to turn off his brain he could barely talk around the people he'd a crush on. But now it was simply ridiculous. Harry was a grown man, for heaven's sake, he should be able to approach the person he fancied and ask them out on a date. A real date. Having dinner, or going to the movies, something, anything that was really, obviously and undeniably a date. Instead he was now left with a dinner table full of dishes that needed cleaning and possibly a hangover come morning.
Less than enthusiastically he started to collect the empty mugs. There was the red one with the grinning snowman. It was Harry's favourite and he'd made sure that Malfoy would get to use it. Because only the best was good enough for Malfoy. If he didn't have a fancy china set, the least he could do was offering him his favourite mug. Was this really just how sappy he'd become? The alcohol must have addled his brain.
He turned the mug over in his hand. Right above the snowman's hat sat a lip shaped stain. Harry never knew that it was possible to be jealous of a piece of china, but this was where Malfoy's lips had been. Those wonderfully manly lips. Narrow, but perfectly symmetric and - perfect. Just looking at this stain and imagining how it'd got there made Harry's mind go to delicious places. Malfoy had lifted the mug like this, smelled the heavy scent of the hot spices, licked his lips and then placed them…
The cold china startled Harry awake. He couldn't possibly have! His lower lip now tasted sweet and sticky. The realisation that what he tasted was wine from Malfoy's lips made him feel giddy. And a tiny bit dirty. His heart began to pound stronger with the ideas his brain brought up. He could swear the snowman was mocking him. But what of it? This was his mug anyway and he was alone in his own living room. Nobody would see. Nobody would know.
Slowly he lifted the mug to his lips again and carefully, very carefully he stuck out his tongue. It was a bit anticlimactic, it was just a mug after all, but Harry couldn't deny that he was at least a little bit turned on. Once he'd started it was hard to stop letting his tongue slide over the place Malfoy's mouth had been only minutes ago.
"Forgot my scarf," someone muttered.
It isn't possible to measure the amount of mortification that washed over Harry, when he registered that he hadn't been alone at all. He spun around, clutching the mug in his shivering hands.
Malfoy's eyes were fixed on the mug in Harry's hand and when they finally did move away, they just got as far as Harry's lips.
"I…," Harry tried to explain, "Um. I just…"
Malfoy came closer, which did nothing to further Harry's eloquence. It was hard enough to try to stop his brain from constantly screaming, "I want him. I want him. I want him," like some stupid, needy parrot.
Malfoy was directly in front of him now; Harry could almost feel his breath on his lips. Staying conscious proved more and more of an effort. Malfoy leant forward. Oh, Merlin, he was going to kiss him; it was going to really happen. Harry nearly fainted. But the bastard just drew back and smirked.
"You'll pick me up tomorrow at seven. I'm not easy, Potter. So, no kissing before the third date. But because I'm a generous person I'll let this count as number one." And he was gone.
Harry flopped down in the next best chair and set the mug down on the table with a clang. It was all a bit much. But he guessed he got what he wanted.
~~~ end ~~~