Talk To Me In French by Fluffy_Underneath [E, 64k]
Malfoy's quiet as he takes a drag of his cigarette. “I didn't shag you,” he says, finally. “Because you were blind drunk.”
Harry huffs. “I wasn't blind drunk.” Malfoy raises his eyebrows. “I mean, I was a bit drunk. But I knew what I was doing.” There's a pull in his groin as he recalls the feel of Malfoy up against him. “It’d still have been alright, I reckon.”
More than alright, Harry's stirring cock corrects.
Malfoy hums and looks away from Harry, taking another pull on his cigarette.
Harry watches him exhale slowly from the corner of his mouth, the smoke drifting softly into the air as he turns back to Harry, his gaze sharp and his voice low. “Maybe. But I don't want alright.”
Harry's heart thumps an irregular beat, but he doesn't look away as Malfoy continues. “If you're ever in my bed, Potter, it's not going to be alright. It's going to be fucking spectacular.”
His words send instant heat sizzling up Harry's spine, blood flowing irretrievably south.
Harry forces himself to hold Malfoy’s gaze as he swallows, mouth suddenly bone dry. He clears his throat and tries to find his voice. “You, uh, seem pretty confident about that.”
Malfoy’s eyes travel over Harry's body and back to his face. Harry's skin prickles at the boldness of it.
Malfoy shrugs, the hint of a smirk on his face.
“I am.”
He drops his cigarette and vanishes it. Harry watches him walk away, his heart still beating too hard, brain still stuck somewhere around spectacular.
