HP/DM: Across the Field
Title: Across the Field
Characters: Harry/Draco
Prompt: This is written for enchanted_jae's monthly drabble challenge. The prompt is: Do you like it hot?
Rating: R
Warnings: This is obviously alternate universe as I have no idea where they are, but it’s not the magical world, as we know it.
Word count: ~560
Disclaimer: J. K. Rowling and her minions own everything related to Harry Potter and his magical world. I make no money from this paltry piece of Potterotica.
Author's Notes: This is unbeta'd *I%#$*. All mistakes are my own.
With a practiced ease, Potter pulled his shirt over his head and used it to soak up the sweat off his face and chest. With a start, he twirled it over his head and shouted like a medieval warrior in the midst of battle. The girls in the stands made high pitches squeals while the boys returned his war cry with one of their own. A hormonal mob standing on the precipice of adulthood.
Draco stood on the other side of the field and watched Potter as he dropped the shirt and grabbed a water bottle. His mouth watered as he imagined tasting the golden skin of the dark haired youth. His jaws were clenched, but the tip of his tongue ran itself over the roof of his mouth over and over again imagining it was licking the bronze nipples, the rippled stomach, and lower still…
Draco barely felt the sun’s heat beating down as his own internal blaze flamed higher with images of Potter and him wrestling in a steamy sexual struggle. The crowd cheering them on to reach new states of desire.
With his mind fogged over with images of Potter sucking on his cock, Draco was forced to turn away when Weasley came by and wrapped his arm around his friend. He pointed at something or someone on Draco’s side of the field and they both laughed. In disgust, he spit out the saliva that had been building up and thought about sitting between Crabbe and Goyle until the game was finished.
Before he could move to the bench, though Pansy slid up next to him. He didn’t see her, but the amount of perfume she usually wore bordered on obscene.
“Do you like it hot, Draco?” she purred. A white towel in her hand came up and delicately patted across his forehead. Draco felt his shoulders fall as the dry cloth absorbed and temporarily blocked out his sight.
Before she pulled it away, she leaned into him, her voice a breathy gasp of mint toothpaste.
“I saw whom you were ogling on the other side of the field. You almost gave yourself away to the others. Better be careful. Rumors have destroyed others with less than that.” And with that, she was gone in a flash to flirt with Theo as Draco stood there and ruminated her warning.
It wasn’t until his hand was grabbed with shouts of “Good game” that Draco realized the game was over. Most of the time, he was a competitive person who bordered on the obsessive of winning, but it didn’t seem to matter today.
If he was going to be ostracized for lust, then he might as well go for the brass ring as well. What was it his mother had once said, “In for a penny, in for a pound.”
As the teams continued to shake hands, Draco made his way over to Potter’s side. Slapping his hand on the bare lower back got Potter’s attention as he turned to see who was touching him so intimately. But before he could squawk about the contact, Draco leaned into Potter’s ear, having taken a page out of Pansy’s book.
“Why Potter, with all that exposed skin, I’m surprised you aren’t catching a chill. How about you come back to my house and we’ll see about warming you up.”
Characters: Harry/Draco
Prompt: This is written for enchanted_jae's monthly drabble challenge. The prompt is: Do you like it hot?
Rating: R
Warnings: This is obviously alternate universe as I have no idea where they are, but it’s not the magical world, as we know it.
Word count: ~560
Disclaimer: J. K. Rowling and her minions own everything related to Harry Potter and his magical world. I make no money from this paltry piece of Potterotica.
Author's Notes: This is unbeta'd *I%#$*. All mistakes are my own.
With a practiced ease, Potter pulled his shirt over his head and used it to soak up the sweat off his face and chest. With a start, he twirled it over his head and shouted like a medieval warrior in the midst of battle. The girls in the stands made high pitches squeals while the boys returned his war cry with one of their own. A hormonal mob standing on the precipice of adulthood.
Draco stood on the other side of the field and watched Potter as he dropped the shirt and grabbed a water bottle. His mouth watered as he imagined tasting the golden skin of the dark haired youth. His jaws were clenched, but the tip of his tongue ran itself over the roof of his mouth over and over again imagining it was licking the bronze nipples, the rippled stomach, and lower still…
Draco barely felt the sun’s heat beating down as his own internal blaze flamed higher with images of Potter and him wrestling in a steamy sexual struggle. The crowd cheering them on to reach new states of desire.
With his mind fogged over with images of Potter sucking on his cock, Draco was forced to turn away when Weasley came by and wrapped his arm around his friend. He pointed at something or someone on Draco’s side of the field and they both laughed. In disgust, he spit out the saliva that had been building up and thought about sitting between Crabbe and Goyle until the game was finished.
Before he could move to the bench, though Pansy slid up next to him. He didn’t see her, but the amount of perfume she usually wore bordered on obscene.
“Do you like it hot, Draco?” she purred. A white towel in her hand came up and delicately patted across his forehead. Draco felt his shoulders fall as the dry cloth absorbed and temporarily blocked out his sight.
Before she pulled it away, she leaned into him, her voice a breathy gasp of mint toothpaste.
“I saw whom you were ogling on the other side of the field. You almost gave yourself away to the others. Better be careful. Rumors have destroyed others with less than that.” And with that, she was gone in a flash to flirt with Theo as Draco stood there and ruminated her warning.
It wasn’t until his hand was grabbed with shouts of “Good game” that Draco realized the game was over. Most of the time, he was a competitive person who bordered on the obsessive of winning, but it didn’t seem to matter today.
If he was going to be ostracized for lust, then he might as well go for the brass ring as well. What was it his mother had once said, “In for a penny, in for a pound.”
As the teams continued to shake hands, Draco made his way over to Potter’s side. Slapping his hand on the bare lower back got Potter’s attention as he turned to see who was touching him so intimately. But before he could squawk about the contact, Draco leaned into Potter’s ear, having taken a page out of Pansy’s book.
“Why Potter, with all that exposed skin, I’m surprised you aren’t catching a chill. How about you come back to my house and we’ll see about warming you up.”