Kayla needed a break after a long semester and with a few weeks left of winter break before the new semester her opportunity came in the form of a concert Rebekah invited her to. Kayla had heard of Julian, having met his older brother Chan through Rebekah's husband Jalen who was the farmer's Adoptive Brother alongside Wes, but during every meeting Julian was never present, always busy with his music and production career. The show was a blast but Kayla couldn't keep her eyes off of Julian as he performed, his aura and his scent drew her in like a moth to a flame making something stir inside her that she had only felt once in her life with her high school boyfriend. This feeling was new, stronger, as if she were being pulled by invisible magnets toward this man to the point even her inner wolf stirred at the sight and smell of the vampire. Kayla followed Rebekah and Jalen backstage after the show, Wesley and Chan had already beat them to Julian's dressing room. The group entered and congratulated Julian on a fantastic show before Rebekah pushed me forward to introduce me as her best friend and platonic. "You're even hotter up close" Kayla blurts out before blushing when she realized she voiced her inner thoughts aloud.
This one is for @julcheninred. Jules, my friend, my found family, my fellow lover of shiny rocks. I was just thinking about you, and I was writing this scene in my head and it just somehow all fit together in my mind. I’m not quite sure I did it justice, but here it is.
~600 words, G/T, Drarry, I don’t think any cw apply. Except probably for FEELINGS. (Pretty much SOOC, will be archived on AO3 at some point. Gentle reminder that I would prefer people not extend or finish my vignettes without talking to me first!)
His bag has been packed for days.
Draco stashed it in his old nursery, the one at the very back of the west wing, where no one ever goes anymore. The one with the window that opens up over the roof of the kitchen garden shed.
He waits until the house, always quiet these days, settles into deep silence. The wee hours of the morning, his mother used to say. It’s always darkest before the dawn, she’d said as well. Draco had never understood what that meant. Now he gets it.
So he waits, listens, and waits some more. Then he gets up, throws on the clothes he’s hidden from his mother — the Muggle jeans and t-shirt. A worn hoodie in muted grey. Trainers, still new, that he carefully laces up and double knots. He tiptoes to the nursery, slings his bag across his chest.
Then he leaves.
He slowly opens the window, even though he knows his mother won’t hear him, all the way on the other side of the Manor. He slips out onto the shed roof, and makes his way quietly across the tiles, to where he can climb down the small cherry tree that blooms every spring. He doesn’t run, it’s too dark and he doesn’t want to fall, but he moves quickly through the gardens that he knows like the back of his hand and out to the orchard.
Fire blight had taken fully half of the trees, three falls ago, and there’d been nothing to be done except destroy them, all the waydown to the roots. Draco’s mother had insisted on doing it herself, and as Draco moves through the trees that still stand, he can almost see her, back ramrod-straight with tears streaming down her face as she casts.
Potter is waiting for him, his motorbike parked in one of the clearings. He’s standing, leaning nonchalantly against it, and when Draco approaches, he doesn’t say anything at first, just gives that maddening grin and quirk of his eyebrow as his gaze sweeps over Draco, lighting him up from the crown of his head to the tip of his toes.
Finally, Potter speaks.
“You ready?”
Draco gets closer, close enough to touch, and Potter reaches out, hooks a finger through Draco’s belt loop and yanks him all the way in, winding his arms around Draco.
“Not really,” Draco admits, voice muffled from where he’s buried his face in Potter’s neck, breathing in the scent of soap and Weasley’s washing powder and home.
They stand, still, and Potter simply holds Draco until he’s ready to let go. Finally, Draco takes a deep breath, pulls back and scrubs a hand over his face.
He turns his back to Potter, looks around one last time. The ghost of his mother, destroying the trees, still lingers in the distance. His own childhood phantom runs laughing amongst the memory of trees. No matter how far he goes, Draco thinks, a part of him will always live here.
Behind him, he hears Potter settling onto the bike, and when Draco turns back around, Potter’s still smiling, something soft and affectionate, and holds out his hand. Asks again.
“You ready?”
Draco nods, swallows and takes his hand. Slides onto the bike behind Potter.
“Yes,” he says and now it’s his turn to wrap his arms around Potter’s lean body.
Potter flicks his wand and the bike roars to life.
“Hold on tight,” he advises, and Draco moves even closer. Holds on even tighter.
“I’m ready,” he says, although most likely Potter can’t even hear him over the sound of the motor. “I’m ready now. Let’s go.”
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Words: 121
Additional Tags: First Dates, Kissing, Blow Jobs, Tumblr: drarrymicrofic
Summary: When he’d agreed to be set up, it was almost a dare, a joke; ‘Harry’s so hard-up, let’s throw dates at him until someone sticks.’
This is… unexpected.
A/N: For @drarrymicrofic ‘s prompt, ‘feast’, as well as @nv-md ‘s extra prompt, ‘unexpectedly good date’; thank you so much, bb! For @julcheninred who, when I was whining about wanting to write short again and projecting 1.5k, said, "Do a hundred!" Here's a hundred and twenty, give or take. Happy belated birthday or early Hanukkah. You're the best. <3
Read on AO3 or under the cut:
Champagne. Appetizers. More courses than Harry can count. Dessert.
Dear fuck, dessert.
When he’d agreed to be set up, it was almost a dare, a joke; ‘Harry’s so hard-up, let’s throw dates at him until someone sticks.’
This is… unexpected.
“Satisfied?” Malfoy dabs his pretty mouth with a cloth napkin.
“Almost,” Harry says, because he’s been half hard over Malfoy all night.
Back at Harry’s flat, they do it just inside the door, Malfoy’s expensive shirt ripped open, mouths hot together, Harry falling to his knees.
Appalling, that this banquet has been there all along, disguised as an enemy.
Harry fills his hands with Malfoy’s arse, takes his cock deeply into his mouth; he groans his satiation before he’s even begun.
Cassie was changing into her hoodie and jeans in the girl’s locker room. There was a time when she had enjoyed cheering on the team, but their wins had become so routine that her heart wasn’t in it anymore. She wanted them to lose or, at least, see Nate Jacobs be carried from the field with a broken leg. Perhaps, that would make her life more interesting, she thought.
As she finished changing and zipped her bag, she pushed that thought of her mind. She glanced around the locker room and noticed that she and Jules were the last ones there. “Do you want to go to Idle Time Books and hang out?” the blonde asked. “I heard they got some new French stuff the other day.”
