Christmas Drabbles Part Nineteen
Dec. 25th, 2008 06:58 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dysonrulesMERRY CHRISTMAS TO EVERYONE!!!!
Their lips met and Malfoy was surprisingly gentle, teasing and tasting Harry’s mouth, urging his lips to part. The gentleness did nothing to ease the torrent of white-hot need that tore through Harry’s blood, sending his pulse skyrocketing. He focused so intently on Malfoy’s mouth drawing unexpected responses from him that he nearly didn’t notice the knuckles still sliding over his torso, until they moved lower and lower…
Harry broke away in near-panic and stared at Malfoy through wide eyes. The back of Malfoy’s hand had crossed over Harry’s waistband and stopped excruciatingly close to something hard and throbbing. Harry was not quite sure he was ready to cross that line—he didn’t even know Malfoy’s motive.
“What are we doing?” he asked hoarsely, hating to destroy the moment with words, but hating the thought of being used even more. Was Malfoy planning to set him up for a hard fall?
“I thought it was obvious,” Malfoy purred.
“I know that, but why?”
“Why? It is necessary to ask why?”
Harry stiffened slightly. “You know it is.”
Malfoy sighed and his gaze refused to meet Harry’s. One hand softly played over his neck, sending tendrils of flame on wayward paths, keeping the fire burning in the pit of Harry’s abdomen. “I plan to send Rita an owl tonight. I’ll buy her off so she won’t print anything about you. And Goyle will keep his mouth shut. Pansy… well, no one ever believes her. She’s a notorious gossip. Your virtue is safe, Potter.”
Harry frowned at the almost bitter tone of Malfoy’s voice. The fingers of his other hand had lifted and they played with the edges of Harry’s waistband, tickling first one way and then the other, back and forth. He struggled to find words.
Malfoy’s silver eyes locked with his suddenly, filled with intensity. He leaned forward and planted a hungry kiss on Harry’s lips before pulling away only to slide his cheek against Harry’s, pressing closer until Harry could feel hot breath panting against his ear.
“I want you so much, Harry. I don’t mind being your dirty little secret.”
The words shocked Harry into near immobility. He pulled away sharply and glared at the blond, who watched him with a guarded expression. Harry could practically see him drawing into himself, visibly expecting rejection.
“Hey,” Harry said, softening his gaze and reaching up to grasp the fine features of Malfoy’s face, cupping it in both hands as if gentling a scared child. “Hey.”
Confusion clouded Malfoy’s grey eyes, but Harry brushed a thumb over his lip, silencing him.
“I don’t want you to be my dirty little secret,” he said quietly. “I don’t want you to be a secret at all. I know it won’t be easy and my friends will likely freak out and the press will have a field day and your friends… well, your friends don’t seem to bat an eye… but what about your parents? Are you willing to put up with the reporters and Howlers and drama that will result from being seen as my…”
Malfoy swallowed hard. “Your what, Harry?”
“My… well, my…my… Mine,” he said with finality.
“Yours?”
“Will you be mine, Draco? Will you let me be yours?”
As he said the words, he leaned forward and brushed his lips against Malfoy’s lightly, questing, hoping for a positive response.
Malfoy jerked back suddenly, pulling away from his hands to stare at him through wide eyes. Not quite the response Harry was hoping for.
“Are you telling me you want a… a…. a…?”
“Relationship?” Harry supplied helpfully.
“A relationship,” Malfoy finished. “With me?”
Harry grinned and nodded before gamely putting his hands back on Malfoy’s face and leaning in again, pressing him against the arm of the sofa and likely crushing the expensive fabric of Malfoy’s robes.
“Yes. I want a relationship with you.” His fingers quested over Malfoy’s cheeks, temples, and jaw.
“When did you come up with this momentous idea, Potter?”
“When I kissed you at Pansy’s,” Harry said and pressed feather light kisses against Malfoy’s lips.
“Bloody Gryffindor,” Malfoy muttered, but Harry felt him relax slightly. “It’s completely ridiculous.”
“I want to buy you Christmas presents and birthday presents and anniversary presents,” Harry added breathlessly between kisses.
“Are you trying to bribe me now?”
“Is it working?” Harry asked hopefully.
“It might be.”
Harry laughed.
Part Twenty
Part One
Oh no, it's not over yet. More presents for my f-list coming! *hugs to all*
Their lips met and Malfoy was surprisingly gentle, teasing and tasting Harry’s mouth, urging his lips to part. The gentleness did nothing to ease the torrent of white-hot need that tore through Harry’s blood, sending his pulse skyrocketing. He focused so intently on Malfoy’s mouth drawing unexpected responses from him that he nearly didn’t notice the knuckles still sliding over his torso, until they moved lower and lower…
Harry broke away in near-panic and stared at Malfoy through wide eyes. The back of Malfoy’s hand had crossed over Harry’s waistband and stopped excruciatingly close to something hard and throbbing. Harry was not quite sure he was ready to cross that line—he didn’t even know Malfoy’s motive.
“What are we doing?” he asked hoarsely, hating to destroy the moment with words, but hating the thought of being used even more. Was Malfoy planning to set him up for a hard fall?
“I thought it was obvious,” Malfoy purred.
“I know that, but why?”
“Why? It is necessary to ask why?”
Harry stiffened slightly. “You know it is.”
Malfoy sighed and his gaze refused to meet Harry’s. One hand softly played over his neck, sending tendrils of flame on wayward paths, keeping the fire burning in the pit of Harry’s abdomen. “I plan to send Rita an owl tonight. I’ll buy her off so she won’t print anything about you. And Goyle will keep his mouth shut. Pansy… well, no one ever believes her. She’s a notorious gossip. Your virtue is safe, Potter.”
Harry frowned at the almost bitter tone of Malfoy’s voice. The fingers of his other hand had lifted and they played with the edges of Harry’s waistband, tickling first one way and then the other, back and forth. He struggled to find words.
Malfoy’s silver eyes locked with his suddenly, filled with intensity. He leaned forward and planted a hungry kiss on Harry’s lips before pulling away only to slide his cheek against Harry’s, pressing closer until Harry could feel hot breath panting against his ear.
“I want you so much, Harry. I don’t mind being your dirty little secret.”
The words shocked Harry into near immobility. He pulled away sharply and glared at the blond, who watched him with a guarded expression. Harry could practically see him drawing into himself, visibly expecting rejection.
“Hey,” Harry said, softening his gaze and reaching up to grasp the fine features of Malfoy’s face, cupping it in both hands as if gentling a scared child. “Hey.”
Confusion clouded Malfoy’s grey eyes, but Harry brushed a thumb over his lip, silencing him.
“I don’t want you to be my dirty little secret,” he said quietly. “I don’t want you to be a secret at all. I know it won’t be easy and my friends will likely freak out and the press will have a field day and your friends… well, your friends don’t seem to bat an eye… but what about your parents? Are you willing to put up with the reporters and Howlers and drama that will result from being seen as my…”
Malfoy swallowed hard. “Your what, Harry?”
“My… well, my…my… Mine,” he said with finality.
“Yours?”
“Will you be mine, Draco? Will you let me be yours?”
As he said the words, he leaned forward and brushed his lips against Malfoy’s lightly, questing, hoping for a positive response.
Malfoy jerked back suddenly, pulling away from his hands to stare at him through wide eyes. Not quite the response Harry was hoping for.
“Are you telling me you want a… a…. a…?”
“Relationship?” Harry supplied helpfully.
“A relationship,” Malfoy finished. “With me?”
Harry grinned and nodded before gamely putting his hands back on Malfoy’s face and leaning in again, pressing him against the arm of the sofa and likely crushing the expensive fabric of Malfoy’s robes.
“Yes. I want a relationship with you.” His fingers quested over Malfoy’s cheeks, temples, and jaw.
“When did you come up with this momentous idea, Potter?”
“When I kissed you at Pansy’s,” Harry said and pressed feather light kisses against Malfoy’s lips.
“Bloody Gryffindor,” Malfoy muttered, but Harry felt him relax slightly. “It’s completely ridiculous.”
“I want to buy you Christmas presents and birthday presents and anniversary presents,” Harry added breathlessly between kisses.
“Are you trying to bribe me now?”
“Is it working?” Harry asked hopefully.
“It might be.”
Harry laughed.
Part Twenty
Part One
Oh no, it's not over yet. More presents for my f-list coming! *hugs to all*