InsaneJournal

FIC: Letter
Title: Letter
Done for bouncy's birthday comments.
Harry/Draco. 500 words.





"Is this some kind of sick joke, Malfoy?" he growled, thrusting the crumpled up piece of parchment into Draco's hands.

"Er... Potter? What is this -- why do I need scraps of your homework --"

"Read it!" Potter ordered, and crossed his hands over his chest, practically huffing with righteous indignation.

"Whatever you say," Draco replied loudly, then rolled his eyes at the ring of people that surrounded them tightly. "Barking!" he mouthed, eliciting a giggle from several Slytherins as he flattened the parchment scrap between his palms.

"You!" Potter dragged his gaze across the crowd. "This is between me and Malfoy! Go do... whatever it is you do when you don't have other people's business to intrude on! Shoo! Get out of here!"

A few left right away, shrugging their shoulders. Potter wildly waved his wand at a couple of students who seemed glued to their vantage spots. "I meant everyone!" he muttered darkly, pointing at Pansy.

"I don't want to use this," Draco mocked, gesticulating in the air with an imaginary wand, "but I will if I have to!"

"Shut it, Malfoy,and get reading!" Potter snapped, then turned to his support squad. "I'll be fine. I'll find you when I sort this out, alright?"

"Of course, Harry," Granger smiled unctuously, and grabbed the boy Weasley by the sleeve. "Let's go for a walk, Ron, shall we?" Boy Weasley's facial expression suggested he'd love a bit more than a walk. Draco shuddered.

"Meet me by the dungeons later," he told Pansy, Blaise and Goyle, and turned his attention to the letter.

"...when you are all sweaty from Quidditch, still in the muddy uniform, your hair mussed and wet, that's when I want you the most. I want to rip the pads off of your ankles, those ridiculous red trousers off of your hips, and push you down into the grass. You'd look at me, glasses askew, your eyes wide in confusion, and then you'd gasp as your bare arse touched the ground. I'd wrap my hand around your cock, and you would moan, right there, in front of everyone, before I spelled them to go away. I'd --"

"I don't get it, Potter. Why are you bringing me a disgusting missive from someone in your fanclub?"

"Because it seems you are a card-carrying member, Malfoy," Potter smirked, cocking his head. "If that's not your handwriting, I'll eat my... ridiculous red trousers."

"How do you... my handwriting..." Draco muttered, glancing to the safety of the hallway beyond them, but Potter was having none of it. He leaned in, either arm trapping Draco against the wall.

"What do you want?" Draco asked in a very small voice, and shut his eyes. It didn't help. Although he couldn't see Potter's face drawing closer, he could feel -- "Oh, hell," Draco thought dimly, and let Potter win.