For @drarrymicrofic prompt: Butt. WC: 1092.
Landing back on British soil after almost three years away carried a sense of homecoming.
That evening, he was interrupted as he unpacked his trunks by the pecking of an owl on his window. He opened it, and the nondescript brown bird flew in to alight on the dresser, extending its leg for Draco to untie the parchment there.
He offered the owl a treat, which it took, but it didn't fly away, which meant a reply was expected.
Unrolling the paper, he squinted at the messy scrawl.
I heard you are back. I can't wait to see you and catch up. Come to pub night tomorrow. Please?
P.S. My mobile number is below, but I've instructed Beatrice to wait for a reply in case you don't have a mobile.
For several minutes, Draco just looked at the note, considering its implications. He'd been back only a few hours, and Harry already knew. Sure, they had become friendly before Draco had taken the position in America, even partnering on cases occasionally. In truth, Draco's unrequited pining for the scrawny, messy-haired Gryffindor was one of the factors in Draco accepting the position with the American Auror force.
The change had been good for him. There, he'd been valued for his skills and knowledge without his past haunting him. He'd dated several men, one for several months. He'd been happy, but something was missing, time hadn't had the desired effect of wiping Harry from his mind. As that feeling grew, he knew, no matter the consequences, he had to come home.
So here was Harry Potter, inviting him to the pub on his first day back.
Before he could talk himself out of it, he pulled a blank sheet of paper from his desk and scribbled out a note.
Thank you. I'll see you tomorrow at 7 then.
He tied the note to the owl's leg and set her on her way. Immediately picking up his mobile to text Pansy. It turned out that Friday pub night was a tradition and was attended by many of their former classmates.
Pansy: I think you'll quite enjoy yourself.
Draco: Why do you say that?
Tossing the mobile aside, Draco went back to his unpacking, determined not to dwell on the thought of seeing Harry again after all these years.
The next evening, Draco dressed carefully, his outfit as much armour as a fashion choice. Dark wash jeans, tight enough to show off his long legs and trim waist without being vulgar, and a dark grey button-down that he knew made his eyes stand out. He'd let his hair grow while in America, and it now fell in loose waves around his face.
In an attempt to tamp down his nerves, he downed a large portion of fire whisky before apparating to the designated location. This, combined with the martini that Pansy pressed into his hand immediately upon his arrival, was at least partially to blame for what happened.
A gaggle of people entered the pub in a baffling assortment of attire. Some were in stained and torn Auror robes, others appeared in relatively normal street wear, while others still were in a variety of athletic apparel.
The group, loud and boisterous, headed for where they were sitting. It was only then that Draco recognised his former co-workers from the DMLE. Including Harry.
At the head of the group, a wide smile on his face, Harry had on the smallest pair of shorts Draco had ever seen. Thick, muscular thighs were completely bare below the abbreviated garment. His shirt, more of a vest really, clung to what was clearly a six-pack and his exposed biceps flexed in a truly mesmerising way as he slapped one of his companions on the back.
“Sorry we're late, a bit of a situation with a training exercise."
His companions burst into laughter at what was clearly an understatement.
Harry noticed him then, possibly because Draco's mouth was hanging open.
“Draco!" Harry sounded truly happy to see him. “I'm so glad you came!"
Draco's mouth opened and closed, but no sound emerged. His brain was short-circuiting. Harry Potter was fit. Obscenely so. He wanted those thighs wrapped around his waist as soon as possible.
Harry didn't seem to need him to respond, though, because he carried on. "I'll get the next round.”
If seeing this new version of Harry had rendered him speechless, then the version of him that graced Draco's vision when he walked away broke the filter between his brain and his mouth. He thought to whisper to Pansy, but what he did instead was all but shout, "Fucking hell, look at that butt!”
Across the table, Theo laughed openly while Weasley spluttered, "What?”
"Sorry,” Draco said, remembering he was no longer in America, " arse.”
"That's not what we were confused about, mate.”
Draco wasn't listening, he was watching the jiggle of muscle under the tightly stretched fabric that ended barely below the lush curve.
"Juicy as fuck,” Draco muttered, ignoring the reactions of his companions.
When Harry leaned over the bar to speak with the bartender, it was all Draco could do to stay in his seat.
All of the blood in his body rushed south, further removing any reservations his brain may have been trying to maintain.
“Yes, waiter, I'll have the cake for dinner."
Visions of sinking his teeth into the most glorious bum he'd ever seen filled his mind.
When Harry eventually turned to walk back to the table, levitating a tray of drinks behind him, Draco's eyes dropped to the way the shorts cupped the substantial bulge at the junction of his thighs.
"Alright, Draco?” Harry asked after the drinks were distributed. He squeezed into the booth next to Draco, and Draco whimpered.
"You've hypnotised him with your arse, mate,” Seamus Finnegan helpfully supplied.
Harry turned towards Draco with a wicked grin. "Oh, there's only one cure for that, I'm afraid.”
Draco nodded, having no idea what he was agreeing to.
"Exposure therapy,” Harry said gravely and stood back up and held his hand out to Draco. “Shall we?"
He went to take the proffered hand but paused when Pansy touched his arm.
“Draco, are you drunk? Do you know what's happening?" Draco blinked back to himself and turned to her. She really was a dear friend.
“Pansy love," Draco said, “I do not need to be saved. If I'm killed by the Saviour’s arse, just know that I died happy.”
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