Marriage Farce 2
Title: Marriage Farce 2
Author: enchanted_jae
Characters: Harry/Draco
Rating: R
Warning(s): Implied sex
Additional warning: Author is not responsible for underage readers. Mind the rating and warning(s).
Word count: 690
Disclaimer: Characters are the property of JK Rowling, et al. This fic/drabble was written for fun, not for profit.
Written for: Birthday gift for lijahlover, who asked for a sequel to Marriage Farce
Summary: Draco and Harry Potfoy look at homes for sale.
"No."
"How can you dismiss this house without even seeing the inside of it?!"
Draco's lip curled into the sneer he'd perfected by age five. "It's blue, Potter."
"It's slate gray, and the name is Potfoy, thank you ever so," countered Potter.
Draco learned it was possible to sneer and grind one's teeth at the same time. He'd been convinced they could change their unfortunate, drunken choice of surname, but it was proving difficult. When Draco and Potter had gone to the Ministry's Office of Birth, Marital and Death Records to petition for a change of name, the witch in charge looked down her nose at them and said, "The name on your marriage certificate is the name you will henceforth be known as. Good day, gentlemen."
It had taken an afternoon marathon of sex for Draco to get over the affront. Fortunately for him, his new husband had plenty of stamina.
"...at least go in and look around?" Potter was saying.
Draco crossed his arms and glared.
Potter planted his hands on his hips and stared Draco down. "We're wizards," he said. "The color of the house can be changed with the wave of a wand."
"I don't care," Draco said. He was being stubborn and petulant, and he knew it. "Let's look at something different." Potter gave in with an exasperated huff, and Draco turned away to hide his smirk. He may be married to the git and saddled with an absurd surname, but Draco was going to take control of every other aspect of their relationship that he could.
Potter consulted a list that he'd obtained from a firm that specialized in selling homes to the magical populace. "Let's go see this one," he said, indicating one of the houses. "It has a large garden, which is something you were especially keen on."
As soon as they stepped out of the Floo at the next house, Draco began searching for something to complain about. He had quickly learned there was entertainment to be had in winding Potter up. Prodding his husband's temper often led to prodding of a different sort. Draco was loathe to simply ask for sex; therefore, he employed Slytherin tactics to get what he wanted.
The house was wonderful. It featured large, airy rooms, gorgeous hardwood floors, multiple windows to allow the sunlight in, and plenty of storage space. Draco was almost disappointed. He trailed after Potter into the garden and caught his breath. Draco tried not to look too eager.
"This home will suffice, I suppose," he drawled.
Potter turned and looked back at the house, rubbing his chin in thought. "I'm not entirely certain this one will do," he said.
Draco's nostrils flared. "Why not?" he demanded.
"I'm not sure," mused Potter. "I can't quite put my finger on it."
"You're just being difficult."
Potter turned to look at Draco, cocking a single brow as if to mock him. "Do you mean to tell me that you haven't been difficult at all today?"
"Of course not!" Draco protested, straightening his spine. "I had legitimate concerns about each of those other houses."
"The color of the exterior, Draco?!"
"I don't like blue."
"It was gray."
"It was blue!"
"Gray!"
"Blu-mmpf..."
Draco's argument was effectively cut off by the bruising pressure of Potter's lips. Apparently, his husband had been riled to the breaking point. By the time Potter came up for air, Draco's fingers were clutching Potter's shoulders, and his cock was straining behind his zip.
"Savage," Draco panted.
Potter's eyes flashed. "I'll show you savage," he growled.
~*~
When Potter rolled away from him, Draco smiled and stretched. His shirt was hanging from a bush, where it had been tossed in the heat of angry passion, and Draco was missing a shoe. At the moment, he didn't care. He turned his head to look at his husband, relieved to see that Potter was wearing a rather dopey expression.
"This is the house that I want, Harry," Draco said.
"Fine, you conniving git," agreed Potter. "We may as well buy it. After all, we've already christened the garden."
Marriage Farce 3
Author: enchanted_jae
Characters: Harry/Draco
Rating: R
Warning(s): Implied sex
Additional warning: Author is not responsible for underage readers. Mind the rating and warning(s).
Word count: 690
Disclaimer: Characters are the property of JK Rowling, et al. This fic/drabble was written for fun, not for profit.
Written for: Birthday gift for lijahlover, who asked for a sequel to Marriage Farce
Summary: Draco and Harry Potfoy look at homes for sale.
"No."
"How can you dismiss this house without even seeing the inside of it?!"
Draco's lip curled into the sneer he'd perfected by age five. "It's blue, Potter."
"It's slate gray, and the name is Potfoy, thank you ever so," countered Potter.
Draco learned it was possible to sneer and grind one's teeth at the same time. He'd been convinced they could change their unfortunate, drunken choice of surname, but it was proving difficult. When Draco and Potter had gone to the Ministry's Office of Birth, Marital and Death Records to petition for a change of name, the witch in charge looked down her nose at them and said, "The name on your marriage certificate is the name you will henceforth be known as. Good day, gentlemen."
It had taken an afternoon marathon of sex for Draco to get over the affront. Fortunately for him, his new husband had plenty of stamina.
"...at least go in and look around?" Potter was saying.
Draco crossed his arms and glared.
Potter planted his hands on his hips and stared Draco down. "We're wizards," he said. "The color of the house can be changed with the wave of a wand."
"I don't care," Draco said. He was being stubborn and petulant, and he knew it. "Let's look at something different." Potter gave in with an exasperated huff, and Draco turned away to hide his smirk. He may be married to the git and saddled with an absurd surname, but Draco was going to take control of every other aspect of their relationship that he could.
Potter consulted a list that he'd obtained from a firm that specialized in selling homes to the magical populace. "Let's go see this one," he said, indicating one of the houses. "It has a large garden, which is something you were especially keen on."
As soon as they stepped out of the Floo at the next house, Draco began searching for something to complain about. He had quickly learned there was entertainment to be had in winding Potter up. Prodding his husband's temper often led to prodding of a different sort. Draco was loathe to simply ask for sex; therefore, he employed Slytherin tactics to get what he wanted.
The house was wonderful. It featured large, airy rooms, gorgeous hardwood floors, multiple windows to allow the sunlight in, and plenty of storage space. Draco was almost disappointed. He trailed after Potter into the garden and caught his breath. Draco tried not to look too eager.
"This home will suffice, I suppose," he drawled.
Potter turned and looked back at the house, rubbing his chin in thought. "I'm not entirely certain this one will do," he said.
Draco's nostrils flared. "Why not?" he demanded.
"I'm not sure," mused Potter. "I can't quite put my finger on it."
"You're just being difficult."
Potter turned to look at Draco, cocking a single brow as if to mock him. "Do you mean to tell me that you haven't been difficult at all today?"
"Of course not!" Draco protested, straightening his spine. "I had legitimate concerns about each of those other houses."
"The color of the exterior, Draco?!"
"I don't like blue."
"It was gray."
"It was blue!"
"Gray!"
"Blu-mmpf..."
Draco's argument was effectively cut off by the bruising pressure of Potter's lips. Apparently, his husband had been riled to the breaking point. By the time Potter came up for air, Draco's fingers were clutching Potter's shoulders, and his cock was straining behind his zip.
"Savage," Draco panted.
Potter's eyes flashed. "I'll show you savage," he growled.
~*~
When Potter rolled away from him, Draco smiled and stretched. His shirt was hanging from a bush, where it had been tossed in the heat of angry passion, and Draco was missing a shoe. At the moment, he didn't care. He turned his head to look at his husband, relieved to see that Potter was wearing a rather dopey expression.
"This is the house that I want, Harry," Draco said.
"Fine, you conniving git," agreed Potter. "We may as well buy it. After all, we've already christened the garden."
Marriage Farce 3