Possessive Bastard
Title: Possessive Bastard
Word count: 400
Characters/pairings: Harry/Draco, Blaise/Draco
Rating PG
Disclaimer: The boys belong to JKR, even though I’m often much nicer to them than she is.
Authors Notes: Written for hd100’s current prompt, party. This follows on from So Much For Being A Gryffindor and So Much For Resolution.
“You wrote it? Really?” Laughter was bubbling through Draco’s voice, but not the mocking laughter Harry had always imagined when picturing himself telling Draco such a thing. No: Draco’s pale face was bright with his delighted smile.
“I certainly did. You know I believe in knowing exactly what I want.” Blaise was smiling back. He was only a little taller than Draco, and standing close enough that his handsome face was inches from Draco’s.
Harry kind of wanted to hit him.
Then Blaise kissed Draco, and Harry revised that into wanting to curse him into a thousand tiny, bloody pieces.
~*~
The party went downhill from there.
Harry made himself leave, edging awkwardly around them. “Excuse me, Malfoy, I...” He felt Draco’s eyes track him for a moment, but he didn’t look round. No doubt Draco had forgotten he was there, or maybe looked scornful, and Harry didn’t want to see that in his face.
Besides, next moment Blaise’s smooth voice was asking Draco how he’d been. Harry scowled, and stamped his way down the hall. He heard the beginning of a typically Draco reply - sarcastic tone and slightly superior giggling - before he slammed his way back into the living room.
~*~
He went up to Hermione, who was standing by the buffet and looked resplendent in her crimson dress. “Have you asked him out yet?” she asked.
Harry poured and drained a glass of wine.
“I’ll take that as a no. What happened?”
Just then, Slytherin voices rose, laughing. Blaise and Draco had just entered, and Blaise already had his arm possessively around Draco’s shoulders. Pansy Parkinson was calling, “you’ll get your Galleons in the morning, bitch,” and Blaise was looking smug. Harry hoped for outrage, but Draco simply drawled, “isn’t that usually his line?”
Hermione blinked at the sight.
“...Oh.”
~*~
Blaise led Draco over to where people were dancing to Hermione’s generic rock, and they slipped easily into a rhythm. Draco’s smooth movements were mesmerising. He and Blaise, both slick in tight black trousers, looked horribly well-matched.
Blaise’s hands smoothed down to Draco’s hips, controlling the movement and rounding it out; Draco laughed, his head thrown back and teeth flashing, and let him. Blaise looked up, straight into Harry’s eyes, as one hand reached to squeeze Draco’s round arse. Harry felt his jaw clench as Draco pushed lazily into the movement, so amused, and Blaise grinned nastily.
Damnit.
He knew.
Word count: 400
Characters/pairings: Harry/Draco, Blaise/Draco
Rating PG
Disclaimer: The boys belong to JKR, even though I’m often much nicer to them than she is.
Authors Notes: Written for hd100’s current prompt, party. This follows on from So Much For Being A Gryffindor and So Much For Resolution.
“You wrote it? Really?” Laughter was bubbling through Draco’s voice, but not the mocking laughter Harry had always imagined when picturing himself telling Draco such a thing. No: Draco’s pale face was bright with his delighted smile.
“I certainly did. You know I believe in knowing exactly what I want.” Blaise was smiling back. He was only a little taller than Draco, and standing close enough that his handsome face was inches from Draco’s.
Harry kind of wanted to hit him.
Then Blaise kissed Draco, and Harry revised that into wanting to curse him into a thousand tiny, bloody pieces.
~*~
The party went downhill from there.
Harry made himself leave, edging awkwardly around them. “Excuse me, Malfoy, I...” He felt Draco’s eyes track him for a moment, but he didn’t look round. No doubt Draco had forgotten he was there, or maybe looked scornful, and Harry didn’t want to see that in his face.
Besides, next moment Blaise’s smooth voice was asking Draco how he’d been. Harry scowled, and stamped his way down the hall. He heard the beginning of a typically Draco reply - sarcastic tone and slightly superior giggling - before he slammed his way back into the living room.
~*~
He went up to Hermione, who was standing by the buffet and looked resplendent in her crimson dress. “Have you asked him out yet?” she asked.
Harry poured and drained a glass of wine.
“I’ll take that as a no. What happened?”
Just then, Slytherin voices rose, laughing. Blaise and Draco had just entered, and Blaise already had his arm possessively around Draco’s shoulders. Pansy Parkinson was calling, “you’ll get your Galleons in the morning, bitch,” and Blaise was looking smug. Harry hoped for outrage, but Draco simply drawled, “isn’t that usually his line?”
Hermione blinked at the sight.
“...Oh.”
~*~
Blaise led Draco over to where people were dancing to Hermione’s generic rock, and they slipped easily into a rhythm. Draco’s smooth movements were mesmerising. He and Blaise, both slick in tight black trousers, looked horribly well-matched.
Blaise’s hands smoothed down to Draco’s hips, controlling the movement and rounding it out; Draco laughed, his head thrown back and teeth flashing, and let him. Blaise looked up, straight into Harry’s eyes, as one hand reached to squeeze Draco’s round arse. Harry felt his jaw clench as Draco pushed lazily into the movement, so amused, and Blaise grinned nastily.
Damnit.
He knew.