Fic: Yeehaw (a gift)
My dearest @phoebe-delia, my first Cowboy Drarry gift for you was completely unplanned but utterly unforgettable. It was the foundation to yeehaw, which I now cement with this gift. Believe me, I truly, truly could not resist and you earnt every word of this and more. Please feel free to scream at me for surprising you with this, but you deserve all the wonders of the world, especially when they are Drarry-related and written from the heart.
Loads of love from your crazy coffee dragon 💜
Fic Title: Yeehaw Rating: E Word Count: 5K Pairing: why, Drarry, of course Warning: none really, except that this is shameless smut with feelings
Excerpt: (read the whole fic here)
It’s the shiny silver toe rands Harry notices first―and he is drawn to it just like a magpie to a glittering ring. He’s had just a little too much beer and, after a quick visit to the loos, having successfully relieved the uncomfortable pressure on his bladder, is now on his way across the bar. As he makes his way back over to Draco, who is sitting on one of the many wooden stools that line the counter, waiting for him to return, Harry barely avoids crashing into a line-dancing pair at the edge of the dancefloor. They don’t look pleased about his clumsiness, but a profuse apology is all it takes to get them smiling again. The polished toe tips that adorn the pointed toes of Draco’s cowboy boots―Harry’s mind does a doubletake at that realisation―shimmer brightly as they catch a ray of the light from above. It immediately becomes the centre of Harry’s attention.
He finds himself stopping dead in his tracks and staring; Harry swallows hard, unsure whether he’s drunk enough to have started imagining things or whether that’s really his Draco, wearing a pair of brand-new classic cowboy boots. They hug Draco’s calves so beautifully that Harry’s mouth starts to water for reasons Harry can’t quite put into words, doesn’t even dare to try.
The skin-tight black pair of jeans that covers Draco’s legs, which looks like it was painted on rather than put on, disappears inside the boots. Harry can barely drag his eyes away from the sturdy item of footwear―it’s the first time he’s seen Draco wear cowboy boots rather than stare at them with disdain. The feeling that surges through Harry is something fierce. It travels down the entire length of his spine, and when it reaches the very bottom of his groin, it explodes. The sparks let loose a swarm of butterflies that rise into Harry’s chest. He feels his heart flutter as it struggles to remember how to stick to a regular beat and does an utterly rubbish job at it. Keeping his composure becomes impossible, and when Harry finally manages to drag his gaze up to meet the scintillating silver flecks in Draco’s grey-blue eyes, he promptly stumbles over his own two feet.