HDWC: Losing my religion (fluff)
Title: A late night rendezvous
Author: enchanted_jae
Pairing: D/H
Rating: PG13
Warning(s): Sexual situation, language
Word count: 598
Disclaimer: Characters are the property of JK Rowling, et al. This drabble/fic was written for fun, not for profit.
Author's note: Written for the current prompt at hump_day101, which is Losing my religion. This is fluff week, but I don't think this is all that fluffy. Huh. Go figure, my angst was better than my fluff. *sulks*
Summary: Draco's yearning for Potter is giving him fits.
"For fuck's sake, Malfoy, just ask the git out or proposition him or something! Not having him is driving you so crazy that you're driving the rest of us crazy!"
"Shut up, Nott," sneered Draco as he continued pacing the length of the Slytherin common room. Back and forth, back and forth. Over and over and over again. That he was making his housemates dizzy didn't concern him in the least.
"Bloody hell, Malfoy," drawled Zabini's voice from where he was sprawled on the sofa, "if you don't make a move on Potter, perhaps I will. After all, he's easy on the eyes, and it would be interesting to see if Gryffindor's Golden Boy takes it or not."
Barely were the words out of his mouth than he was being hauled to his feet by Malfoy's fists bunched in the front of his shirt. "Potter. Is. Mine," hissed the blond, his gray eyes steely as flint as he stared Zabini down.
"Alright, alright," Zabini babbled, trying to placate Malfoy. "I was just joking." After being tossed back onto the sofa like a rag doll, Zabini muttered to himself and smoothed the wrinkles from his shirt.
"You may have your housemates cowed, Draco, but there are still the other Houses to consider," mused Pansy from her perch on Nott's lap. "You might want to make your intentions clear before someone else claims your Gryffindor boytoy."
Draco turned to scowl at her, but privately, he had to admit she was right. If he didn't lay claim to Potter soon, someone else would.
~*~
Draco stalked through the corridors, his Head Boy badge blatantly pinned to his robes so that no one would dare to question why he was out of his dorm at this late hour. He'd grown tired of pacing in the Dungeons, and now he was working off some nervous energy by striding through the rest of the castle. As he approached a staircase, the object of his current affliction came bounding down them, clearly on his way out of Gryffindor's tower.
"Potter!" barked Draco. "Why are you out of your rooms so late?" he demanded. "Sneaking off for a late night rendezvous?" he added with a sneer. When Potter merely blushed and stammered, Draco's frustration reached the boiling point. Suddenly shoving Potter against the wall at the foot of the stairs, Draco followed, crowding close to the Gryffindor. "Unbelievable, Potter," he fumed. "I've been wanking myself sore over you, nearly losing my religion in the process, and here you are, skulking off behind my back, meeting some other bloke and cheating on me!"
"Wha...?" Potter began, but the rest of what he'd been about to say was effectively cut off by Draco's mouth descending on his.
~*~
Much later, rumpled, sweaty, and completely relaxed despite the discomforts normally associated with storage closet sex, Draco felt Harry stir next to him. "Draco?" ventured the other boy in a timid whisper.
"Yeah?" sighed Draco, carding his fingers through messier-than-usual dark hair.
"You asked where I was going, you know, when you saw me coming down the stairs..." he began, trailing off uncertainly.
Draco held his breath while waiting for Harry to continue. What if he had been on his way to meet someone?
"I didn't have a secret rendezvous planned, although I did hope for one." Draco tensed, and then Harry continued, "I was on my way to the Dungeons, intending to tell you how tired I was of wanking over you!"
Author: enchanted_jae
Pairing: D/H
Rating: PG13
Warning(s): Sexual situation, language
Word count: 598
Disclaimer: Characters are the property of JK Rowling, et al. This drabble/fic was written for fun, not for profit.
Author's note: Written for the current prompt at hump_day101, which is Losing my religion. This is fluff week, but I don't think this is all that fluffy. Huh. Go figure, my angst was better than my fluff. *sulks*
Summary: Draco's yearning for Potter is giving him fits.
"For fuck's sake, Malfoy, just ask the git out or proposition him or something! Not having him is driving you so crazy that you're driving the rest of us crazy!"
"Shut up, Nott," sneered Draco as he continued pacing the length of the Slytherin common room. Back and forth, back and forth. Over and over and over again. That he was making his housemates dizzy didn't concern him in the least.
"Bloody hell, Malfoy," drawled Zabini's voice from where he was sprawled on the sofa, "if you don't make a move on Potter, perhaps I will. After all, he's easy on the eyes, and it would be interesting to see if Gryffindor's Golden Boy takes it or not."
Barely were the words out of his mouth than he was being hauled to his feet by Malfoy's fists bunched in the front of his shirt. "Potter. Is. Mine," hissed the blond, his gray eyes steely as flint as he stared Zabini down.
"Alright, alright," Zabini babbled, trying to placate Malfoy. "I was just joking." After being tossed back onto the sofa like a rag doll, Zabini muttered to himself and smoothed the wrinkles from his shirt.
"You may have your housemates cowed, Draco, but there are still the other Houses to consider," mused Pansy from her perch on Nott's lap. "You might want to make your intentions clear before someone else claims your Gryffindor boytoy."
Draco turned to scowl at her, but privately, he had to admit she was right. If he didn't lay claim to Potter soon, someone else would.
~*~
Draco stalked through the corridors, his Head Boy badge blatantly pinned to his robes so that no one would dare to question why he was out of his dorm at this late hour. He'd grown tired of pacing in the Dungeons, and now he was working off some nervous energy by striding through the rest of the castle. As he approached a staircase, the object of his current affliction came bounding down them, clearly on his way out of Gryffindor's tower.
"Potter!" barked Draco. "Why are you out of your rooms so late?" he demanded. "Sneaking off for a late night rendezvous?" he added with a sneer. When Potter merely blushed and stammered, Draco's frustration reached the boiling point. Suddenly shoving Potter against the wall at the foot of the stairs, Draco followed, crowding close to the Gryffindor. "Unbelievable, Potter," he fumed. "I've been wanking myself sore over you, nearly losing my religion in the process, and here you are, skulking off behind my back, meeting some other bloke and cheating on me!"
"Wha...?" Potter began, but the rest of what he'd been about to say was effectively cut off by Draco's mouth descending on his.
~*~
Much later, rumpled, sweaty, and completely relaxed despite the discomforts normally associated with storage closet sex, Draco felt Harry stir next to him. "Draco?" ventured the other boy in a timid whisper.
"Yeah?" sighed Draco, carding his fingers through messier-than-usual dark hair.
"You asked where I was going, you know, when you saw me coming down the stairs..." he began, trailing off uncertainly.
Draco held his breath while waiting for Harry to continue. What if he had been on his way to meet someone?
"I didn't have a secret rendezvous planned, although I did hope for one." Draco tensed, and then Harry continued, "I was on my way to the Dungeons, intending to tell you how tired I was of wanking over you!"