#drarry dabble

[awh0reforlouist91]

tried another @drarrymicrofic prompt: brief

Looking turned into kissing turned into sucking Harry off in the loos of the club.

Draco is still kneeling in the stall, head thrown back, cock spent from coming untouched, panting.

He was long gone, back between sweaty bodys, dancing, but Draco will forever remember the moans, the hand in his hair, pushing him to take him deeper; The Saviours brief lapse of judgement.

[alindakb]

Sunshine

When the bus stops, Harry pulls Draco with him towards the edge of town.

“What is this place?” Draco asks, quickly stepping up so he walks next to Harry instead of being pulled forward.

Harry smile. “The town I grew up,” he says. It’s small and quiet. But it’s where his best memories lay. And his worst. He points towards the playground. “That’s where I learned to play. Dad used to take me along with him as soon as I could walk. And when he was gone, Sirius continued the tradition.”

Draco hums and stops. Harry turns to look at him. His eyes are serious, his lips pushed together. “Do you remember your parents?” he asks.

Harry shakes his head. “No, I was too young. The only thing I have are the stories Sirius and Remus told me.” He walks on, towards the edge of town. The little cottage is still there. Harry stops right in front of it. He hasn’t been here in years. Not since that day the police came to get him from school to rush him to the hospital, only to learn that it was already too late. That his last guardian was dead.

“Are you okay?” Draco asks. He squeezes Harry’s hand. Harry takes a deep breath and then lets his head rest on Draco’s shoulder.

“I couldn’t keep it,” he whispers. Tears start to form and he pushes them away quickly. He wanted to show Draco where he grew up. He wanted this to be a good day. Not one for tears and heartache. They had enough of those already.

Draco puts his arm around Harry’s waist and pulls him closer. “Why not?” he asks.

“There wasn’t enough money left,” Harry answers. “Sirius had taken a second mortgage on the place to pay for Remus hospital bills. My caseworker explained that if I tried to keep it, I wouldn’t be able to go to the school my parents had wanted me to, so I gave it up.”

“That sucks,” Draco answers. Harry is afraid to look at him. Will this remind him of what he has given up to be here with Harry? Will he change his mind? Harry was a fool to take him here so soon after Draco was kicked out of his family home.

“It’s only a building,” Harry says, trying to make light of it all.

“Don’t play it down,” Draco says. He kisses the top of Harry’s head. “This isn’t nothing. Or just a building. This was your family home, and it hurts when you lose it.”

“Are you okay?” Harry asks between his tears.

Draco huffs. “Not sure,” he says. “I miss mum, she won’t take my calls. And I’m not sure how I’m going to keep my flat at uni. But I’ll figure it out.”

The door of the cottage opens. An old lady stands in the doorway. “Do you want to come inside, sunshine?” she asks.

She looks familiar in a way, but Harry can’t place her. Maybe he knew her when he still lived here, but it’s been so long.

“He would love to,” Draco answers for them. He takes Harry’s hand again and leads them past the small fence.

“I thought so,” the lady says. “You’ve grown up to look just like your father. He had the same wild dark locks.”

Harry smiles at her. “I don’t remember you,” he says.

The woman laughs. “That’s fine, sunshine,” she says. She pats him on his shoulder when he steps into the cottage. “I was only the silly lady from the flower shop. I didn’t expect you to know me still. Now, come in. I know it’s not the same as when you left it. That uncle of yours had a strange taste. But I’m sure you can tell your fellow what it looked like when you still lived here.”

Harry doesn’t know what to say. He never thought he would step foot into this place again. And now that he’s here, he doesn’t know where to start.

“Take your time,” Draco whispers in his ear. And that is what Harry does. He takes in every little corner of the place, and then he starts to talk. About how he fell from the stairs one day and broke his toe, or how the wall above the hearth was filled with pictures of his mum and dad. And then the bad memories, of Remus wasting away in his bed, of collecting his things after Sirius died.

It’s late by the time Harry and Draco leave the place. They barely catch the last bus back to London, back to Harry’s new home. Where the pictures of his parents and uncles decorate his wall, together with the people he still has in his life, his friends and new family smiling at him.

MASTERLIST

@hdcandyheartsfest​

[the-professor-persists]

There was a bubbling sort of warmth in the cafe that was reminiscent of the common rooms. It was a Muggle version, of course, full of baseboards and a furnace, and the residual damp heat of too many people coming inside and brushing off their wet shoulders. Still, the smell of fall, of damp leaves and cinnamon and cider. It all felt just enough like home that he was wistful and dreamy.

He'd been sat at the same table for hours, a notebook in front of him with the page still blank. He'd already eaten a scone and drank half of a very large amount of coffee. His body was humming and yet dazed and slow. He could have melted into a large armchair and napped if he'd wanted. It was a truly beautiful way to feel.

The bell chimed above the door, and just as he had been for several hours already, Harry looked up. He made no move to wave or gesture, didn't even put down his pen when he noted that he wasn't waiting anymore. He did smile a lazy smile as he was approached.

"Damn fucking public transportation in the bloody fucking rain on a muddy fucking Wednesday. I swear to God, I am never going to enjoy living in this city."

Harry didn't reply as Draco's usual tirade of curse words and fluffing happened to him. He shook off his coat, flattened down his hair, straightened his cuffs and collar, brushed off his cheeks. It took a moment for Draco to come in from anywhere, and there was no point interrupting.

"Not to mention that Collier's Wood is very fucking far away, Harry. Very far. And the client didn't even have the freaking draft ready, so I took the tube for an hour for very little bloody reason."

He continued to sigh as he removed his jacket and rolled up his shirt sleeves.

"The only saving grace is that he made rather excellent lunch and I suppose it's good that I showed my face but when I tell you I need a coffee, you'll understand that it is not a suggestion—wait, have you not even started that? Harry! You've been here ages."

Draco had finally sat himself down, and Harry had pushed the warm cup towards him quietly. His face flushed and he put his chin on his hand to watch Draco take a sip.

"Thank Merlin for coffee. I swear, Potter, if you're not done by the time we leave for dinner, I'm hiring someone to do it for you."

"HI, Draco," Harry murmured finally.

Draco's whole posture shifted. His shoulders relaxed, his face softened. He reached across the table, pulled the pen from him, and gripped his hand.

"Hi, love," he replied, his gruff anger completely dismissed.

"I did start. It feels too heavy."

"I know. I'm sorry. It's...been a day."

"This is a nice cafe, though, isn't it?"

Draco looked around smiled. "It's okay. Mostly you're a sucker for a fall aesthetic, but I can see the appeal. Go on then, tell me what you have."

Harry smirked and flipped back a page. "I, Harry Potter," he read, "being of sound mind and body—"

Draco laughed. "Fuck you!"

"What?" Harry teased. "Isn't that how all your wills start?"

Draco swatted at Harry's head. "If you don't sort out how to write absolutely beautiful vows in the next hour, I'm taking back the proposal and the wedding is off."

"Darling Draco, heart of my heart and liver of my liver—"

"You are literally the one who wanted to write our own. We could just read from the bloody book."

"When we first met, I utterly hated you. When we first met again, you swore at me for a full five minutes and I knew right then and there that we would one day be standing here, pretending either of us give a damn about being married."

"My mother will murder you."

Harry laughed. "I'm kidding. I finished them."

"What? You did?"

"Course," Harry shrugged. "I've been here for hours."

"Let me see!" Draco demanded, swiping at the notebook.

Seeker reflexes kicking in, Harry pulled the paper from his grasp. "No fucking way. You wouldn't show me yours."

Draco relaxed back in his chair and smirked a wry smile. "That's because I haven't written them," he said.

"I'm sorry, what?"

Draco just shrugged.

"God I hate you," Harry teased.

He leaned back in his chair too, picking up his mug and inhaling deeply. Draco smiled warmly and winked.

Harry really did love this cafe.