Roar
Author: l3petitemort
Title: Roar
Pairing: Charlie/Draco
Prompt: Heat
Rating: PG-13ish
Warnings: Implied nudity and sexual situations; a bit of language.
Notes: i wrote this for the week 26 challenge at sortinghatdrabs... woo!
There are some things that the War did not change: not in five minutes, not in five months, and not now, five years down the line.
A Malfoy, for example, is always a Malfoy: cagey and peculiar, shifting shape every time you turn him over in your hands; a package wrapped carefully so as not to betray its contents. This was what Charlie Weasley was learning.
He had watched the kid at the end of the bar, looking stilted and uncomfortable with his long fingers wrapped around his drink like he was trying to hide it. He looked cold; white from head to foot, eyes the colour of smoke - only nothing was burning. At least, that’s what Charlie had thought.
Later, when Draco peeled off his shirt, he was all angles and planes; all geometry: hipbone and sternum and clavicle. Even his scars were clean and sharp. He hadn’t blushed, just breathed fast, his pupils going round like two pools of cool water. Charlie dove in, and the landscape changed.
Draco was not mechanical, efficient. His mouth was hungry and loud; he made arcs with his back; one of his fingernails was uneven and drew blood. He let Charlie search him for secrets, and they sprang up everywhere.
And now, Charlie couldn’t sleep. He couldn’t sleep, because the damn kid’s body was so hot that Charlie thought it was the firewhiskey finally leaving him, seeping undiluted out of his pores. Any minute now, Charlie was sure the mattress was going to burst into flames.
He threw off the bedclothes, muttering, “Too fucking hot,” and propped himself up on an elbow.
From beside him came Draco’s voice. Another surprise, as Charlie had thought he was sleeping. “Is that your idea of pillow-talk? It’s lacking.”
Charlie huffed a laugh through his nose. “Just an observation, kid. Trying to sleep next to you is like curling up in a bloody dragon’s mouth.”
“Shouldn’t you be used to that?”
“I try to stay away from their mouths if I can, actually. They’re safer from a distance.”
“So am I.”
“Don’t flatter yourself. You’re not a dragon just because I made you roar.”
Title: Roar
Pairing: Charlie/Draco
Prompt: Heat
Rating: PG-13ish
Warnings: Implied nudity and sexual situations; a bit of language.
Notes: i wrote this for the week 26 challenge at sortinghatdrabs... woo!
There are some things that the War did not change: not in five minutes, not in five months, and not now, five years down the line.
A Malfoy, for example, is always a Malfoy: cagey and peculiar, shifting shape every time you turn him over in your hands; a package wrapped carefully so as not to betray its contents. This was what Charlie Weasley was learning.
He had watched the kid at the end of the bar, looking stilted and uncomfortable with his long fingers wrapped around his drink like he was trying to hide it. He looked cold; white from head to foot, eyes the colour of smoke - only nothing was burning. At least, that’s what Charlie had thought.
Later, when Draco peeled off his shirt, he was all angles and planes; all geometry: hipbone and sternum and clavicle. Even his scars were clean and sharp. He hadn’t blushed, just breathed fast, his pupils going round like two pools of cool water. Charlie dove in, and the landscape changed.
Draco was not mechanical, efficient. His mouth was hungry and loud; he made arcs with his back; one of his fingernails was uneven and drew blood. He let Charlie search him for secrets, and they sprang up everywhere.
And now, Charlie couldn’t sleep. He couldn’t sleep, because the damn kid’s body was so hot that Charlie thought it was the firewhiskey finally leaving him, seeping undiluted out of his pores. Any minute now, Charlie was sure the mattress was going to burst into flames.
He threw off the bedclothes, muttering, “Too fucking hot,” and propped himself up on an elbow.
From beside him came Draco’s voice. Another surprise, as Charlie had thought he was sleeping. “Is that your idea of pillow-talk? It’s lacking.”
Charlie huffed a laugh through his nose. “Just an observation, kid. Trying to sleep next to you is like curling up in a bloody dragon’s mouth.”
“Shouldn’t you be used to that?”
“I try to stay away from their mouths if I can, actually. They’re safer from a distance.”
“So am I.”
“Don’t flatter yourself. You’re not a dragon just because I made you roar.”