A Life Lesson for the Staggeringly Stupid (H/D, PG-13)
Title: A Life Lesson for the Staggeringly Stupid
Author: sesheta_66
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: ~ 2600
Pairing/Characters: Harry/Draco
Challenge: For jamie2109's birthday prompt of "some post-war, EWE, some sort of function they attend, happy ending." It also fits the AWDT prompt of, "Why won't you listen to me?" the bonus, "Let's go out for burgers," and my GJ 100_prompts table #088 - "Stupidity."
Summary: Harry and Draco teach a young man a lesson he won't soon forget.
Disclaimer: The author is not responsible for underage readers. Please observe the ratings, warnings, and age of legal consent for your country. The characters contained herein are not mine. They belong to JK Rowling and her publishers. No money is being made from this fiction, which is presented for entertainment purposes only.
"Let's go out for burgers," Harry suggested.
"Very funny, Potter. Now go get dressed."
"But Draco ..."
"Stop whinging. You knew this fundraiser was coming up, and you knew we had to go. And for the record, this is one of your pet charities! If anyone should be complaining, it should be your ever-loyal boyfriend standing right in front of you." He flashed Harry a winning smile. "But do you hear me complaining? No. So go on, get on with it. Your tuxedo is hanging in the dressing room."
Harry pouted. It didn't work. He huffed. That didn't work either. He tried offering sexual favours. That didn't work either, though Draco had wavered ever-so-slightly as Harry fell to his knees and began unbuttoning Draco's trousers. His resolve, however, was much stronger than Harry's. He swatted him away and ordered him dressed or he would be without sex for a week. Harry relented, even though he knew - well, he hoped - that Draco couldn't go that long without. But he wasn't taking any chances.
The charity in question was indeed one of Harry's favourites. It was an orphanage for children whose parents had been lost in the war. Harry had grown up without his parents, and he had seen the conditions in which Tom Riddle had been raised, so this was near and dear to his heart. He just wished he could support the charity without having to schmooze.
Of course Draco was the opposite. He absolutely thrived on schmoozing. He could work a room like no other Harry had seen. He had the presence of his father, but the demeanour of someone far more genuine. Lucius, as poised as he had been, was smarmy. Harry thought that described him perfectly. Draco was a Slytherin, sly and cunning to be sure, but people always got the sense that he was listening to them - a feat which Lucius had never accomplished.
The fact that Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy were together made them practically unstoppable. Which, unfortunately for Harry, meant they were constantly in demand. They had agreed early on that they would support whichever charities they felt were worthy, but that they would only ever attend a maximum of one function per month. This, of course, was in addition to the functions that Narcissa hosted, because her son and heir to the Malfoy fortune and his partner could hardly refuse her. Since she hosted one event per season, that meant that Harry got use out of either his dress robes or tuxedo a total of sixteen times per year. That was about fifteen more than he was comfortable with.
It was an hour into the event and Harry's eyes were glazed over and his head was starting to throb. He hated the limelight.
"Why won't you listen to me?" he heard in the distance. That was Draco's voice, and it was coming from just outside the main entrance to the ballroom. "I told you no ... several times ... now back off." Draco was never this agitated - not in public anyway. And certainly not at a charitable function. Harry hoped that he was the only person who could hear Draco, but a quick glance towards the noise confirmed that several others had stopped talking and were now listening intently.
Harry rolled his eyes and made his way out into the foyer where Draco was. And stopped dead in his tracks. He took several long breaths and cleared his throat. Draco had taught him a few things in their five years together. Staying calm and not jumping in without assessing the situation were a couple of those things. The scene before him was something that would have caused immediate outrage in the past, but now he was able to project a calm demeanour. At least until they were outside.
"Get. Away. From. Him. Now." His words were said so softly but with such rage that there was no mistaking this as a request. It was an order, and the wizard to whom it was directed would do best to follow it.
"And if I don't?"
Harry laughed. Who the fuck did this ... this ... child think he was? Because he was a child. He couldn't have been more than seventeen, scrawny, ginger-haired and freckly. He also couldn't have been less Draco's type if he tried.
Smiling at the boy, Harry approached him. He saw Draco's body tense up out of the corner of his eye. He glanced at Draco and winked, a small gesture to indicate that he wasn't about to do anything that he needed to worry about. Draco's body relaxed in response and he smiled back.
"Let me get this straight? You have come to this charitable event to ... what? Make moves on someone? That alone is crass, don't you think? The fact that the person who is the object of your affection has said no - clearly enough for half the room to hear, and several times apparently - seems to have gone unnoticed. Then, the gentleman's boyfriend - for the record, that would be me - asks you rather pleasantly to back off, and your response is to question what will happen if you don't? I believe I've covered it now, correct?"
He raised his eyebrows in Draco's direction and received a nod in response. "Excellent. Let's see ... I know I'm forgetting something ... what could that be? Ah, yes ... it would seem that you don't know who we are, do you?"
"What, are you threatening me?"
Harry laughed once again. "Oh, come now. I am not the one making a scene here, you are. You made an advance and you were refused. You continued and were still refused. I asked you to stop and you still refused. I'm rather perplexed at your immaturity and audacity. Perhaps there is some reason you believe that you have the right to force yourself on people that are not interested?"
"What's it to you?"
"You know, you'd do best to get that chip off your shoulder," Draco said. "Why don't you just run along now?"
"Oh, but I don't want to run along." He leered at Draco. "Unless you want to ditch this loser," -- he motioned to Harry -- "and come with me."
Draco's eyes narrowed and blood rushed to his face - always a bad sign. Harry moved his arm out to prevent the blonde from attacking the boy. When their eyes met, Harry knew his own were full of mischief. He shook his head to calm Draco down.
"No, I don't think he'll be doing that," Harry said.
The boy had clearly misunderstood Draco's movement, as he said with a smirk, "I think he can speak for himself."
Draco took a calming breath and responded, "Why yes, I can. In fact I have done so all evening. I have told you no less than ten times to bugger off. I have a boyfriend - who incidentally is not a loser - and even if I didn't, I wouldn't go anywhere with you. Frankly, you are pushy, abrasive, and not my type at all. See him?" He waved his arm in Harry's direction. "He's my type. In fact, he couldn't be more my type if he tried. Now leave, please, before you make things any worse."
"But I don't want to leave. What are you gonna do, make me?"
"Oh, my, but we are a child, aren't we? That was a snappy comeback. Care to share why you seem to think that you can get away with speaking to us this way?" Harry asked.
"Sure. This is my mother's charity, my mother's party, these are all my mother's guests, and this is my mother's home. You can't make me do anything!"
"Why you petulant --" Draco began, but was cut off by Harry's cough.
"So you think that your mother would approve of you speaking this way to contributors?" Harry asked.
"What's one donation anyway?"
Draco grinned. "You might be surprised," he replied, his eyes suddenly dancing. "In fact, I'm pretty sure that one of our donations pretty much equals all the others combined."
"Yeah, right," the boy said, laughing at Draco. "Everyone knows that Harry Potter and his boyfriend Malfoy contribute the most. No one else could even hope to match their donations."
Harry and Draco looked at each other, grinned and turned to look at the boy. They simply smiled at him as they watched his eyes move to Harry's forehead. Harry knew his hair covered the scar, and he wasn't about to make it any easier on the boy. He watched as his gaze went from Harry to Draco to the small crowd that had gathered behind them. Apparently someone signalled to him that his worst fears had just come true.
"You're not ..."
"No?" Harry asked as he stepped closer.
"You can't be."
"Can't I?" He took another step closer.
"Oh, shit."
"Indeed," Draco added with a smirk that reminded Harry of their school days.
The boy turned around and ran off. Harry's wand was out and he had cast a Stunning Spell so quickly it earned him a gasp from the few onlookers. The boy's eyes were wide with fear as Harry approached him.
"I'm sorry. Really sorry. I didn't know."
"That much is obvious," Harry said, somewhat taken aback at the fact that someone didn't recognize him. Not that he minded, but it was such an unusual thing, it had caught him off guard.
As though the boy read his mind, he added, "I've been away at school. I had heard about you both, but didn't know what you looked like, and --"
"Stop," Harry said quietly. "Do you really think it makes any difference at all who I am?"
"Of course it does!" the boy responded.
"No, it doesn't." Harry reached his hand out to help the terrified boy up. When he cowered away, Harry sighed. "I'm not going to hurt you. Now get up." He helped the boy to his feet. "No running away."
The boy was positively trembling. Harry might have felt sorry for him under different circumstances. "You have to be the rudest, most obnoxious, arrogant child I have ever had the misfortune of meeting," he started. Looking at Draco, he added, "Well, since I was eleven anyway." That earned him a glare.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Potter."
"Indeed you should be. But not because of who I am." He turned to look at some of their audience. "You should treat every person here with respect. Everyone is here for a good cause, and you have disturbed everyone's evening with your selfish and pushy actions. Every person here deserves an apology from you."
"But --"
"No buts," Harry said, irritated that the boy wasn't clueing in fast enough. "You have put a damper on the evening's events. Everyone here is contributing their time and money towards the orphanage, and they deserve to enjoy themselves. Apologize. Now." He emphasized the last word while boring into the boy's eyes with his own.
"Sorry," he mumbled.
"Oh, I don't think so. That wasn't nearly loud or sincere enough."
"I'm terribly sorry to have disrupted your evening, everyone."
"That's better. Now there's a particular person you need to apologize to."
"Mr. Malfoy," he said as he turned to Draco, all of his previous arrogance gone.
Draco raised his eyebrows, giving him a look that said, This had better be good.
"I'm sorry for my behaviour. You said no, and I should have taken that as your answer and left you alone. It won't happen again."
"It had better not," Draco replied, stepping within inches of the boy, "to anyone else, either."
Harry saw behind the boy his mother Agnes descending the stairs, looking perplexed at the scene before her eyes. He looked back at the boy.
"Excellent. The one person who deserves your apology more than anyone else has arrived." The boy frowned, then saw the direction of Harry's gaze and glanced over his shoulder. He looked back at Harry, wide-eyed and a little bit terrified.
"What's going on here?"
"Nothing, mother."
"Oh, I beg to differ," replied Draco. "I believe your son has something he would like to say to you."
"Samuel? What is going on?"
"Nothing, mother. I'll tell you later."
"Oh no you won't," Harry said, leaving no mistake in his tone. "Either you tell her now or I will."
"Very well," he huffed and turned around. "Let's go in the other room," he told his mother.
"I think not, Samuel," said Draco. "Since you have already disrupted the evening's events, I should think that everyone would like to see this chapter concluded in a swift and efficient manner. Don't you agree?" he asked Harry.
"What is the meaning of this?" Agnes asked, her motherly instinct kicking in to protect her son.
"We'll let Samuel explain," Harry suggested. "Then I think we would all like to return to the other room with the rest of the guests to enjoy the lovely refreshments you have provided, Agnes." He flashed her his best smile and she seemed to relax.
"Very well. What is this, Samuel?"
Harry watched as Draco took particular pleasure in watching the boy squirm as he explained, in a concise but accurate manner, the events leading up to the current situation. If he was honest with himself, Harry had to admit to gleaning some enjoyment from his discomfort as well.
"I'm terribly sorry --" Agnes began.
"Nonsense," Draco admonished her. "You had nothing to do with it. And now that Samuel has apologized, I believe we may all get on with the events of the evening."
Samuel left and wasn't seen for the rest of the evening, much to everyone's relief. Draco had to stop Agnes apologizing no less than six more times before he grasped her by her arms in exasperation. Dropping all formality, he huffed, "Good grief, woman! You are not Samuel, and if I'm not mistaken, I do believe he learned his lesson and won't be trying anything else like that again. Well, not any time soon anyway."
Besides the fifteen minutes of unexpected excitement, the evening was a success. By eleven o'clock, they were able to say their goodbyes and Apparate home.
"So," Harry asked when they were in their bedroom, a predatory look in his eyes, "I couldn't be more your type if I tried, hmm?" He threw his jacket onto a chair and took Draco in his arms.
"That's right," Draco agreed, as Harry began planting kisses on his neck. "Although …"
"What?" Harry asked, ceasing his ministrations and pulling back to look at Draco's face.
"Well," Draco explained, resting his arms on Harry's shoulders, "I sort of miss the angry sex we used to have when you would get terribly jealous," he said with a gleam in his eyes and a sexy pout on his lips.
"Hmm …" Harry mused, wrapping his arms around Draco's waist. "I can't promise angry sex, since I'm not angry." He pulled their bodies together and brushed his lips gently against Draco's. "And jealous sex would suggest that I was jealous of that gangly git," he growled into Draco's ear, "which I wasn't." He nibbled Draco's lobe while he ground their groins together. "But …"
"But what?" Draco asked breathlessly.
"I think I can go for possessive," he suggested as he grabbed Draco's arse and thrust his erection against Draco's equally interested one.
"Oh, yeah?" Draco moaned.
"Yeah," Harry replied. "Because I want to possess every part of you."
"Mmm," hummed Draco. "That works for me."
.
Author: sesheta_66
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: ~ 2600
Pairing/Characters: Harry/Draco
Challenge: For jamie2109's birthday prompt of "some post-war, EWE, some sort of function they attend, happy ending." It also fits the AWDT prompt of, "Why won't you listen to me?" the bonus, "Let's go out for burgers," and my GJ 100_prompts table #088 - "Stupidity."
Summary: Harry and Draco teach a young man a lesson he won't soon forget.
Disclaimer: The author is not responsible for underage readers. Please observe the ratings, warnings, and age of legal consent for your country. The characters contained herein are not mine. They belong to JK Rowling and her publishers. No money is being made from this fiction, which is presented for entertainment purposes only.
"Let's go out for burgers," Harry suggested.
"Very funny, Potter. Now go get dressed."
"But Draco ..."
"Stop whinging. You knew this fundraiser was coming up, and you knew we had to go. And for the record, this is one of your pet charities! If anyone should be complaining, it should be your ever-loyal boyfriend standing right in front of you." He flashed Harry a winning smile. "But do you hear me complaining? No. So go on, get on with it. Your tuxedo is hanging in the dressing room."
Harry pouted. It didn't work. He huffed. That didn't work either. He tried offering sexual favours. That didn't work either, though Draco had wavered ever-so-slightly as Harry fell to his knees and began unbuttoning Draco's trousers. His resolve, however, was much stronger than Harry's. He swatted him away and ordered him dressed or he would be without sex for a week. Harry relented, even though he knew - well, he hoped - that Draco couldn't go that long without. But he wasn't taking any chances.
The charity in question was indeed one of Harry's favourites. It was an orphanage for children whose parents had been lost in the war. Harry had grown up without his parents, and he had seen the conditions in which Tom Riddle had been raised, so this was near and dear to his heart. He just wished he could support the charity without having to schmooze.
Of course Draco was the opposite. He absolutely thrived on schmoozing. He could work a room like no other Harry had seen. He had the presence of his father, but the demeanour of someone far more genuine. Lucius, as poised as he had been, was smarmy. Harry thought that described him perfectly. Draco was a Slytherin, sly and cunning to be sure, but people always got the sense that he was listening to them - a feat which Lucius had never accomplished.
The fact that Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy were together made them practically unstoppable. Which, unfortunately for Harry, meant they were constantly in demand. They had agreed early on that they would support whichever charities they felt were worthy, but that they would only ever attend a maximum of one function per month. This, of course, was in addition to the functions that Narcissa hosted, because her son and heir to the Malfoy fortune and his partner could hardly refuse her. Since she hosted one event per season, that meant that Harry got use out of either his dress robes or tuxedo a total of sixteen times per year. That was about fifteen more than he was comfortable with.
It was an hour into the event and Harry's eyes were glazed over and his head was starting to throb. He hated the limelight.
"Why won't you listen to me?" he heard in the distance. That was Draco's voice, and it was coming from just outside the main entrance to the ballroom. "I told you no ... several times ... now back off." Draco was never this agitated - not in public anyway. And certainly not at a charitable function. Harry hoped that he was the only person who could hear Draco, but a quick glance towards the noise confirmed that several others had stopped talking and were now listening intently.
Harry rolled his eyes and made his way out into the foyer where Draco was. And stopped dead in his tracks. He took several long breaths and cleared his throat. Draco had taught him a few things in their five years together. Staying calm and not jumping in without assessing the situation were a couple of those things. The scene before him was something that would have caused immediate outrage in the past, but now he was able to project a calm demeanour. At least until they were outside.
"Get. Away. From. Him. Now." His words were said so softly but with such rage that there was no mistaking this as a request. It was an order, and the wizard to whom it was directed would do best to follow it.
"And if I don't?"
Harry laughed. Who the fuck did this ... this ... child think he was? Because he was a child. He couldn't have been more than seventeen, scrawny, ginger-haired and freckly. He also couldn't have been less Draco's type if he tried.
Smiling at the boy, Harry approached him. He saw Draco's body tense up out of the corner of his eye. He glanced at Draco and winked, a small gesture to indicate that he wasn't about to do anything that he needed to worry about. Draco's body relaxed in response and he smiled back.
"Let me get this straight? You have come to this charitable event to ... what? Make moves on someone? That alone is crass, don't you think? The fact that the person who is the object of your affection has said no - clearly enough for half the room to hear, and several times apparently - seems to have gone unnoticed. Then, the gentleman's boyfriend - for the record, that would be me - asks you rather pleasantly to back off, and your response is to question what will happen if you don't? I believe I've covered it now, correct?"
He raised his eyebrows in Draco's direction and received a nod in response. "Excellent. Let's see ... I know I'm forgetting something ... what could that be? Ah, yes ... it would seem that you don't know who we are, do you?"
"What, are you threatening me?"
Harry laughed once again. "Oh, come now. I am not the one making a scene here, you are. You made an advance and you were refused. You continued and were still refused. I asked you to stop and you still refused. I'm rather perplexed at your immaturity and audacity. Perhaps there is some reason you believe that you have the right to force yourself on people that are not interested?"
"What's it to you?"
"You know, you'd do best to get that chip off your shoulder," Draco said. "Why don't you just run along now?"
"Oh, but I don't want to run along." He leered at Draco. "Unless you want to ditch this loser," -- he motioned to Harry -- "and come with me."
Draco's eyes narrowed and blood rushed to his face - always a bad sign. Harry moved his arm out to prevent the blonde from attacking the boy. When their eyes met, Harry knew his own were full of mischief. He shook his head to calm Draco down.
"No, I don't think he'll be doing that," Harry said.
The boy had clearly misunderstood Draco's movement, as he said with a smirk, "I think he can speak for himself."
Draco took a calming breath and responded, "Why yes, I can. In fact I have done so all evening. I have told you no less than ten times to bugger off. I have a boyfriend - who incidentally is not a loser - and even if I didn't, I wouldn't go anywhere with you. Frankly, you are pushy, abrasive, and not my type at all. See him?" He waved his arm in Harry's direction. "He's my type. In fact, he couldn't be more my type if he tried. Now leave, please, before you make things any worse."
"But I don't want to leave. What are you gonna do, make me?"
"Oh, my, but we are a child, aren't we? That was a snappy comeback. Care to share why you seem to think that you can get away with speaking to us this way?" Harry asked.
"Sure. This is my mother's charity, my mother's party, these are all my mother's guests, and this is my mother's home. You can't make me do anything!"
"Why you petulant --" Draco began, but was cut off by Harry's cough.
"So you think that your mother would approve of you speaking this way to contributors?" Harry asked.
"What's one donation anyway?"
Draco grinned. "You might be surprised," he replied, his eyes suddenly dancing. "In fact, I'm pretty sure that one of our donations pretty much equals all the others combined."
"Yeah, right," the boy said, laughing at Draco. "Everyone knows that Harry Potter and his boyfriend Malfoy contribute the most. No one else could even hope to match their donations."
Harry and Draco looked at each other, grinned and turned to look at the boy. They simply smiled at him as they watched his eyes move to Harry's forehead. Harry knew his hair covered the scar, and he wasn't about to make it any easier on the boy. He watched as his gaze went from Harry to Draco to the small crowd that had gathered behind them. Apparently someone signalled to him that his worst fears had just come true.
"You're not ..."
"No?" Harry asked as he stepped closer.
"You can't be."
"Can't I?" He took another step closer.
"Oh, shit."
"Indeed," Draco added with a smirk that reminded Harry of their school days.
The boy turned around and ran off. Harry's wand was out and he had cast a Stunning Spell so quickly it earned him a gasp from the few onlookers. The boy's eyes were wide with fear as Harry approached him.
"I'm sorry. Really sorry. I didn't know."
"That much is obvious," Harry said, somewhat taken aback at the fact that someone didn't recognize him. Not that he minded, but it was such an unusual thing, it had caught him off guard.
As though the boy read his mind, he added, "I've been away at school. I had heard about you both, but didn't know what you looked like, and --"
"Stop," Harry said quietly. "Do you really think it makes any difference at all who I am?"
"Of course it does!" the boy responded.
"No, it doesn't." Harry reached his hand out to help the terrified boy up. When he cowered away, Harry sighed. "I'm not going to hurt you. Now get up." He helped the boy to his feet. "No running away."
The boy was positively trembling. Harry might have felt sorry for him under different circumstances. "You have to be the rudest, most obnoxious, arrogant child I have ever had the misfortune of meeting," he started. Looking at Draco, he added, "Well, since I was eleven anyway." That earned him a glare.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Potter."
"Indeed you should be. But not because of who I am." He turned to look at some of their audience. "You should treat every person here with respect. Everyone is here for a good cause, and you have disturbed everyone's evening with your selfish and pushy actions. Every person here deserves an apology from you."
"But --"
"No buts," Harry said, irritated that the boy wasn't clueing in fast enough. "You have put a damper on the evening's events. Everyone here is contributing their time and money towards the orphanage, and they deserve to enjoy themselves. Apologize. Now." He emphasized the last word while boring into the boy's eyes with his own.
"Sorry," he mumbled.
"Oh, I don't think so. That wasn't nearly loud or sincere enough."
"I'm terribly sorry to have disrupted your evening, everyone."
"That's better. Now there's a particular person you need to apologize to."
"Mr. Malfoy," he said as he turned to Draco, all of his previous arrogance gone.
Draco raised his eyebrows, giving him a look that said, This had better be good.
"I'm sorry for my behaviour. You said no, and I should have taken that as your answer and left you alone. It won't happen again."
"It had better not," Draco replied, stepping within inches of the boy, "to anyone else, either."
Harry saw behind the boy his mother Agnes descending the stairs, looking perplexed at the scene before her eyes. He looked back at the boy.
"Excellent. The one person who deserves your apology more than anyone else has arrived." The boy frowned, then saw the direction of Harry's gaze and glanced over his shoulder. He looked back at Harry, wide-eyed and a little bit terrified.
"What's going on here?"
"Nothing, mother."
"Oh, I beg to differ," replied Draco. "I believe your son has something he would like to say to you."
"Samuel? What is going on?"
"Nothing, mother. I'll tell you later."
"Oh no you won't," Harry said, leaving no mistake in his tone. "Either you tell her now or I will."
"Very well," he huffed and turned around. "Let's go in the other room," he told his mother.
"I think not, Samuel," said Draco. "Since you have already disrupted the evening's events, I should think that everyone would like to see this chapter concluded in a swift and efficient manner. Don't you agree?" he asked Harry.
"What is the meaning of this?" Agnes asked, her motherly instinct kicking in to protect her son.
"We'll let Samuel explain," Harry suggested. "Then I think we would all like to return to the other room with the rest of the guests to enjoy the lovely refreshments you have provided, Agnes." He flashed her his best smile and she seemed to relax.
"Very well. What is this, Samuel?"
Harry watched as Draco took particular pleasure in watching the boy squirm as he explained, in a concise but accurate manner, the events leading up to the current situation. If he was honest with himself, Harry had to admit to gleaning some enjoyment from his discomfort as well.
"I'm terribly sorry --" Agnes began.
"Nonsense," Draco admonished her. "You had nothing to do with it. And now that Samuel has apologized, I believe we may all get on with the events of the evening."
Samuel left and wasn't seen for the rest of the evening, much to everyone's relief. Draco had to stop Agnes apologizing no less than six more times before he grasped her by her arms in exasperation. Dropping all formality, he huffed, "Good grief, woman! You are not Samuel, and if I'm not mistaken, I do believe he learned his lesson and won't be trying anything else like that again. Well, not any time soon anyway."
Besides the fifteen minutes of unexpected excitement, the evening was a success. By eleven o'clock, they were able to say their goodbyes and Apparate home.
"So," Harry asked when they were in their bedroom, a predatory look in his eyes, "I couldn't be more your type if I tried, hmm?" He threw his jacket onto a chair and took Draco in his arms.
"That's right," Draco agreed, as Harry began planting kisses on his neck. "Although …"
"What?" Harry asked, ceasing his ministrations and pulling back to look at Draco's face.
"Well," Draco explained, resting his arms on Harry's shoulders, "I sort of miss the angry sex we used to have when you would get terribly jealous," he said with a gleam in his eyes and a sexy pout on his lips.
"Hmm …" Harry mused, wrapping his arms around Draco's waist. "I can't promise angry sex, since I'm not angry." He pulled their bodies together and brushed his lips gently against Draco's. "And jealous sex would suggest that I was jealous of that gangly git," he growled into Draco's ear, "which I wasn't." He nibbled Draco's lobe while he ground their groins together. "But …"
"But what?" Draco asked breathlessly.
"I think I can go for possessive," he suggested as he grabbed Draco's arse and thrust his erection against Draco's equally interested one.
"Oh, yeah?" Draco moaned.
"Yeah," Harry replied. "Because I want to possess every part of you."
"Mmm," hummed Draco. "That works for me."
.