Christmas Drabbles Part Eighteen
Dec. 24th, 2008 07:37 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dysonrulesIt's already Christmas for my overseas darlings and soon to be here, also. Merry Christmas everyone! (And yeah, there will be more tomorrow.) *grin*
Harry turned and made his way back to the stairs before walking down to the entrance hall. When he took in the stylish décor, Malfoy’s words finally sank in. Snape had given him the portrait. It was his house. Malfoy’s house.
Harry stopped short. “This is your house?” He should not have sounded so surprised, but he had always assumed Malfoy to still be living with his parents at the Malfoy ancestral home.
The blond halted next to him and smirked. “Indeed, Potter.”
“It’s nice.”
“You expected flames and pitchfork-wielding demons?”
“I expected more green,” Harry admitted. The colour scheme in the entry hall consisted of chocolate, amber, and muted splashes of burgundy.
“I saved that for the bedroom.”
Suppressing a sudden flare of interest at the thought of seeing Malfoy’s bedroom, as well as fighting a rush of even stronger interest at simply hearing Malfoy’s voice say the word bedroom, Harry glanced upward at the sparkling crystal chandelier.
“No mistletoe,” he commented stupidly.
“Are you sorry?” Malfoy asked in a quiet tone and he suddenly seemed to be standing too close. His nearness was almost stifling, or perhaps the heat in Harry’s cheeks only made it seem so.
“Yes,” he blurted.
He heard Malfoy’s intake of breath and then strong fingers were touching his face and lips were greedily seeking his. Harry surrendered with a blissful sigh and waited for the inner voice to start screaming, demanding to know what he was doing snogging Draco Malfoy without benefit of mistletoe or rationality. That voice never surfaced, apparently smothered by the one that chanted, brilliant, simply wonderfully awesomely brilliant.
They kissed until Harry was gasping for breath. His hands tightly gripped Malfoy’s shoulders and he tried to loosen them before he left bruises. He noted dimly that the blond’s breathing sounded just as uneven. Malfoy’s hands were curled in his hair at the back of his head, lightly stroking with his thumbs. His lips left Harry’s only to press against the side of his neck just beneath his left ear.
“Stay for a drink?” Malfoy murmured.
Drink, yes, fabulous idea. Then he could blame this insanity on alcohol consumption. He allowed Malfoy to take his hand and lead him through an archway at the back of the hall. Despite the fog clouding Harry’s brain, he took in the new room appreciatively. A huge stone fireplace commanded attention from the rear wall and a low fire flickered in the grate. Harry’s attention was captured by the huge Christmas tree that dominated one corner. It was completely decorated in silver and white, bedecked with white fairy lights and glittering tinsel. A scattering of presents lay beneath it and their bright colours contrasted warmly with the icy beauty of the tree.
Malfoy gestured to a pale leather sofa and Harry sat down, feeling slightly self-conscious as Malfoy made his way to a nearby sideboard and began to pour drinks. “Firewhiskey all right, or do you prefer something more festive? Eggnog?”
Harry wrinkled his nose. “I can’t abide the stuff. Firewhiskey is fine.”
Malfoy brought him a heavy crystal glass filled with dark liquid and a handful of ice cubes. Harry took a grateful sip and relished the burn that worked its way down his oesophagus. Malfoy sat next to him, not touching, but close enough to lean in to.
Harry nervously clenched his fingers around the glass. He didn’t want to drink too much, despite his earlier rationalization. He tried to think of something to say, but his mind kept tracking over the kiss and he could barely concentrate on not spilling his drink.
Long fingers finally reached over and took the sweating glass from his hands. Malfoy leaned forward and set both glasses on the low tea table before leaning back and gazing at Harry with a soft expression.
“You look terribly warm in those robes, Potter. Would you like me to help you out of them?” Without waiting for a response, Malfoy’s hands reached out and began to unbutton Harry’s outer robes, exposing the white cashmere beneath. Harry was uncomfortably warm so the cooling effect felt lovely, even with the renewed heat caused by the intimate gesture.
He blushed furiously when Malfoy’s hands reached the buttons over his lap, but thankfully sheer terror was keeping his erection at bay. He had been half-hard during their snogging session in the entry. When the last button was free, Harry shrugged out of the material and watched with interest as Malfoy’s fingers moved to unfasten his own robes. Harry would have liked to help, but he could not seem to locate his Gryffindor courage.
Malfoy stood and let the robes fall before he reached down and slung the fabric across the arm of the sofa. He sat down once more and immediately reached out and touched Harry’s jaw with one hand. The knuckles of his other hand grazed lightly over the cashmere that covered Harry’s chest, following his breastbone down to a point just above his navel and back up again.
The fingers on Harry’s jaw tugged lightly, urging him forward. His eyes fluttered closed as he capitulated. He knew he was being seven kinds of a fool for allowing this to continue, but he could not seem to get enough of Malfoy. His mild attraction had grown throughout the evening, but their first kiss had been like a bludgeon, forcing him to admit that he wanted Draco Malfoy. He wanted him quite badly.
Part Nineteen
Part One
Harry turned and made his way back to the stairs before walking down to the entrance hall. When he took in the stylish décor, Malfoy’s words finally sank in. Snape had given him the portrait. It was his house. Malfoy’s house.
Harry stopped short. “This is your house?” He should not have sounded so surprised, but he had always assumed Malfoy to still be living with his parents at the Malfoy ancestral home.
The blond halted next to him and smirked. “Indeed, Potter.”
“It’s nice.”
“You expected flames and pitchfork-wielding demons?”
“I expected more green,” Harry admitted. The colour scheme in the entry hall consisted of chocolate, amber, and muted splashes of burgundy.
“I saved that for the bedroom.”
Suppressing a sudden flare of interest at the thought of seeing Malfoy’s bedroom, as well as fighting a rush of even stronger interest at simply hearing Malfoy’s voice say the word bedroom, Harry glanced upward at the sparkling crystal chandelier.
“No mistletoe,” he commented stupidly.
“Are you sorry?” Malfoy asked in a quiet tone and he suddenly seemed to be standing too close. His nearness was almost stifling, or perhaps the heat in Harry’s cheeks only made it seem so.
“Yes,” he blurted.
He heard Malfoy’s intake of breath and then strong fingers were touching his face and lips were greedily seeking his. Harry surrendered with a blissful sigh and waited for the inner voice to start screaming, demanding to know what he was doing snogging Draco Malfoy without benefit of mistletoe or rationality. That voice never surfaced, apparently smothered by the one that chanted, brilliant, simply wonderfully awesomely brilliant.
They kissed until Harry was gasping for breath. His hands tightly gripped Malfoy’s shoulders and he tried to loosen them before he left bruises. He noted dimly that the blond’s breathing sounded just as uneven. Malfoy’s hands were curled in his hair at the back of his head, lightly stroking with his thumbs. His lips left Harry’s only to press against the side of his neck just beneath his left ear.
“Stay for a drink?” Malfoy murmured.
Drink, yes, fabulous idea. Then he could blame this insanity on alcohol consumption. He allowed Malfoy to take his hand and lead him through an archway at the back of the hall. Despite the fog clouding Harry’s brain, he took in the new room appreciatively. A huge stone fireplace commanded attention from the rear wall and a low fire flickered in the grate. Harry’s attention was captured by the huge Christmas tree that dominated one corner. It was completely decorated in silver and white, bedecked with white fairy lights and glittering tinsel. A scattering of presents lay beneath it and their bright colours contrasted warmly with the icy beauty of the tree.
Malfoy gestured to a pale leather sofa and Harry sat down, feeling slightly self-conscious as Malfoy made his way to a nearby sideboard and began to pour drinks. “Firewhiskey all right, or do you prefer something more festive? Eggnog?”
Harry wrinkled his nose. “I can’t abide the stuff. Firewhiskey is fine.”
Malfoy brought him a heavy crystal glass filled with dark liquid and a handful of ice cubes. Harry took a grateful sip and relished the burn that worked its way down his oesophagus. Malfoy sat next to him, not touching, but close enough to lean in to.
Harry nervously clenched his fingers around the glass. He didn’t want to drink too much, despite his earlier rationalization. He tried to think of something to say, but his mind kept tracking over the kiss and he could barely concentrate on not spilling his drink.
Long fingers finally reached over and took the sweating glass from his hands. Malfoy leaned forward and set both glasses on the low tea table before leaning back and gazing at Harry with a soft expression.
“You look terribly warm in those robes, Potter. Would you like me to help you out of them?” Without waiting for a response, Malfoy’s hands reached out and began to unbutton Harry’s outer robes, exposing the white cashmere beneath. Harry was uncomfortably warm so the cooling effect felt lovely, even with the renewed heat caused by the intimate gesture.
He blushed furiously when Malfoy’s hands reached the buttons over his lap, but thankfully sheer terror was keeping his erection at bay. He had been half-hard during their snogging session in the entry. When the last button was free, Harry shrugged out of the material and watched with interest as Malfoy’s fingers moved to unfasten his own robes. Harry would have liked to help, but he could not seem to locate his Gryffindor courage.
Malfoy stood and let the robes fall before he reached down and slung the fabric across the arm of the sofa. He sat down once more and immediately reached out and touched Harry’s jaw with one hand. The knuckles of his other hand grazed lightly over the cashmere that covered Harry’s chest, following his breastbone down to a point just above his navel and back up again.
The fingers on Harry’s jaw tugged lightly, urging him forward. His eyes fluttered closed as he capitulated. He knew he was being seven kinds of a fool for allowing this to continue, but he could not seem to get enough of Malfoy. His mild attraction had grown throughout the evening, but their first kiss had been like a bludgeon, forcing him to admit that he wanted Draco Malfoy. He wanted him quite badly.
Part Nineteen
Part One
