Bicycle Shorts
Title: Bicycle Shorts
Author: thenerd1026
Rating: PG13
Word Count: 710
Summary: Ron finds a new way to torment Draco at work.
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. This is strictly for fun, not profit.
There was no way that Draco could un-see that. Even the strongest Obliviate cast by the strongest wizard was futile against the power of Ronald Bilius Weasley, sans Auror robes, with only the slinky material of skin-tight bicycle shorts covering his pasty, blinding, skin. And thinking about the Weasel’s skin made Draco shudder and clamp his eyes shut.
“What?” the redhead bellowed-and Draco fought against the picture of Weasley’s red chest hair and happy trail assaulting his poor, delicate brain.
Merlin, Draco hated Halloween. It was the perfect excuse for cretins like the Weasel to torment innocent bystanders with their costume choices.
Turning his chair to face a more reasonable sight-not that Potter was any better, what with that unruly hair and godforsaken scowl he had been wearing for weeks-Draco peeled open his eyes and sat back in his seat. “Your costume is disgusting,” the blond drawled and arched a perfectly tweezed brow. “Please do something about it.”
God, he could see the redhead’s nipples out of the corner of his eye.
“I’m a biker,” Weasley scoffed and flopped onto the seat next to Potter. “Tell him Harry,” he nudged his best friend who was conveniently looking anywhere but at the ginger.
“He’s a biker,” Potter deadpanned, chewing on his bottom lip even as his mouth curled into an impish grin that was decidedly not adorable or endearing in any way.
Draco fought his own smile and coughed to cover up the chuckle threatening to overtake him. “God, Weasley,” he sighed, taking too much pleasure in ruining Weaslebee’s day, “bikers wear leather. Where did you get the idea that bikers wear,” he gestured to Weasley’s tight shorts, “those?”
“Well,” Weasley blushed, his entire body turning as red as his hair, “Hermione called these biker shorts and Harry,” he sent his best friend a murderous glare, “agreed with her.”
For his part, Potter looked rather sheepish as he sank lower in his chair. It was in no way cute and did not make Draco want to snuggle him.
“Those are bicycle shorts, Weaslebee,” Draco replied without bite. “They’re designed so that you can pedal without your clothes getting in the way.” He bit out a short laugh and slapped his knee-he couldn’t help it, he was only human.
“Piss off,” Weasley muttered when Harry joined in Draco’s laughter. “Bloody hell, I need to find Hermione.” Unfolding one of the case file folders littering his desk, the Weasel held it to his torso and clutched another one over his bits before racing out of the office in search of his wife.
From the sounds of shrieks and screams coming from beyond the door, Draco guessed he wasn’t the only one mortified by Weasley’s costume.
There was a moment of peaceful silence as Draco flipped through one of the case files and organized a list of witnesses. Potter loved it when Draco organized his notes-not that he cared whether or not Potter was impressed.
“Draco,” Potter croaked out and cleared his throat, “what-er-what are you planning on going as for the Ministry ball?”
Tapping his chin with the tip of his finger, Draco stalled for time. How was he supposed to tell Potter that he had been trying for weeks to find out the other man’s costume in order to accidentally dress as his counterpart? And no, that did not sound at all pathetic to the blond.
“I don’t know yet,” Draco responded after a beat too long, feeling disconcerted by Potter’s curious green gaze.
“I should,” Potter began and pushed his chair away from the desk, its legs scraping across the floor as he stood and shuffled over to the door, “check on Ron before he says the wrong thing to Hermione.” He opened the door and stepped into the corridor before turning to face Draco again. “Oh,” he said as an afterthought, “I’m going as a streaker in case you were wondering. I’m completely naked under these robes.” With a saucy wink and a simpering smile that set Draco’s skin on fire, Potter sauntered away, his perfect arse wiggling in tandem with his steps.
Merlin, with the right motivation-and a naked Harry Potter was the perfect motivation-Draco found that maybe he had misjudged Halloween.
Author: thenerd1026
Rating: PG13
Word Count: 710
Summary: Ron finds a new way to torment Draco at work.
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. This is strictly for fun, not profit.
There was no way that Draco could un-see that. Even the strongest Obliviate cast by the strongest wizard was futile against the power of Ronald Bilius Weasley, sans Auror robes, with only the slinky material of skin-tight bicycle shorts covering his pasty, blinding, skin. And thinking about the Weasel’s skin made Draco shudder and clamp his eyes shut.
“What?” the redhead bellowed-and Draco fought against the picture of Weasley’s red chest hair and happy trail assaulting his poor, delicate brain.
Merlin, Draco hated Halloween. It was the perfect excuse for cretins like the Weasel to torment innocent bystanders with their costume choices.
Turning his chair to face a more reasonable sight-not that Potter was any better, what with that unruly hair and godforsaken scowl he had been wearing for weeks-Draco peeled open his eyes and sat back in his seat. “Your costume is disgusting,” the blond drawled and arched a perfectly tweezed brow. “Please do something about it.”
God, he could see the redhead’s nipples out of the corner of his eye.
“I’m a biker,” Weasley scoffed and flopped onto the seat next to Potter. “Tell him Harry,” he nudged his best friend who was conveniently looking anywhere but at the ginger.
“He’s a biker,” Potter deadpanned, chewing on his bottom lip even as his mouth curled into an impish grin that was decidedly not adorable or endearing in any way.
Draco fought his own smile and coughed to cover up the chuckle threatening to overtake him. “God, Weasley,” he sighed, taking too much pleasure in ruining Weaslebee’s day, “bikers wear leather. Where did you get the idea that bikers wear,” he gestured to Weasley’s tight shorts, “those?”
“Well,” Weasley blushed, his entire body turning as red as his hair, “Hermione called these biker shorts and Harry,” he sent his best friend a murderous glare, “agreed with her.”
For his part, Potter looked rather sheepish as he sank lower in his chair. It was in no way cute and did not make Draco want to snuggle him.
“Those are bicycle shorts, Weaslebee,” Draco replied without bite. “They’re designed so that you can pedal without your clothes getting in the way.” He bit out a short laugh and slapped his knee-he couldn’t help it, he was only human.
“Piss off,” Weasley muttered when Harry joined in Draco’s laughter. “Bloody hell, I need to find Hermione.” Unfolding one of the case file folders littering his desk, the Weasel held it to his torso and clutched another one over his bits before racing out of the office in search of his wife.
From the sounds of shrieks and screams coming from beyond the door, Draco guessed he wasn’t the only one mortified by Weasley’s costume.
There was a moment of peaceful silence as Draco flipped through one of the case files and organized a list of witnesses. Potter loved it when Draco organized his notes-not that he cared whether or not Potter was impressed.
“Draco,” Potter croaked out and cleared his throat, “what-er-what are you planning on going as for the Ministry ball?”
Tapping his chin with the tip of his finger, Draco stalled for time. How was he supposed to tell Potter that he had been trying for weeks to find out the other man’s costume in order to accidentally dress as his counterpart? And no, that did not sound at all pathetic to the blond.
“I don’t know yet,” Draco responded after a beat too long, feeling disconcerted by Potter’s curious green gaze.
“I should,” Potter began and pushed his chair away from the desk, its legs scraping across the floor as he stood and shuffled over to the door, “check on Ron before he says the wrong thing to Hermione.” He opened the door and stepped into the corridor before turning to face Draco again. “Oh,” he said as an afterthought, “I’m going as a streaker in case you were wondering. I’m completely naked under these robes.” With a saucy wink and a simpering smile that set Draco’s skin on fire, Potter sauntered away, his perfect arse wiggling in tandem with his steps.
Merlin, with the right motivation-and a naked Harry Potter was the perfect motivation-Draco found that maybe he had misjudged Halloween.