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dripping_cherryTitle: Draco Malfoy Unwrapped (Chapter 1)
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
dripping_cherry
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Rating: NC-17 (eventually)
Wordcount: 910
Disclaimer: Harry Potter is the property of J.K. Rowling and associated publishers. No copyright infringement is intended. No profit is being made from this fiction. All characters engaged in sexual activity are over the age of 18.
Summary: He’s like an exquisite sweet, protected by so many layers of wrapping that no one’s ever had the patience to get him naked. But I’m Harry Potter, dammit, and I want him for dessert.
A/N: Please note that the Browns in this fic are unrelated to Lavender Brown.
Prologue
Chapter 1
Unlike Draco, I’m not a virgin at 22. In fact, my name and the word virgin probably shouldn’t be used in the same sentence. I didn’t always sleep around, though. For as long as Voldemort was a threat to the wizarding world, I hardly had time to think about sex, let alone have it.
Ginny was my first. We resumed our relationship soon after the war ended, but it didn’t last very long. One time was all it took before I realised that women just didn’t do it for me. I wanted to feel a hard body, not those soft breasts pressed up against me. At first, I was worried that it might be difficult to find a boyfriend, but I soon learned that everyone— I look over at Draco—well, almost everyone,
wanted a taste of Harry Potter.
Since then, I’ve been rather busy. It’s not that I’m afraid of commitment. I just happen to like variety. Every man has his own, unique way of kissing. Some like the sex rough; others like it slow and gentle. Some are shy and quiet; others voice their pleasure openly.
Whenever I see an attractive bloke, I imagine what he might be like in bed. Then I take him home and explore his body, finding all the places that make him beg for more. If I like him, I might meet him a few more times before moving on to the next one. The change keeps sex interesting.
Great. Now my trousers are starting to feel tight. I really shouldn’t be thinking about sex on the job.
“Harry, have you been writing this down?” Draco glares accusingly at me.
Thankfully, the notepad resting on my lap is hiding my erection. “Er... yeah.”
He knows I haven’t written anything down, but he lets it go and turns his mercuric eyes back to Mrs Brown.
“As soon as we have any new information, we’ll let you know," Draco tells her. “In the meantime, if you think of anything that might help us get to the bottom of this, send me an owl.”
“I certainly will,” says Mrs Brown, more interested in picking up our empty teacups than the conversation. “Thank you for coming.”
Draco offers her an encouraging smile and turns to leave. “Come, Potter,” he says as he walks past me.
I’ll come for you, I think as I follow him out the front door.
It feels good to step out into the cool air after sitting in that stuffy house for nearly an hour.
“You didn’t write down a word that woman said!” Draco accuses me before I can take a deep breath.
“She didn’t say anything worth writing down.” That’s a lie. Actually, I barely even heard a word she said.
Draco shakes his head. “I knew I should have brought my Quick-Notes Quill,” he mutters under his breath before we Apparate back to London.
He doesn’t say another word until we step into the lift at the Ministry. “She seems odd, doesn’t she?” he asks, brows scrunched together slightly.
“Who?”
“Mrs Brown.” His voice is dripping with forced patience.
I shrug, looking down to hide my embarrassment at neglecting my duty as an Auror. It’s just so difficult to concentrate on my work when he’s around. I’d better get a handle on that. He’s my partner now, so he’ll be around a lot.
“She just seems too calm and disinterested for a woman whose husband has gone missing,” says Draco.
“People react in different ways,” I say.
The lift stops at the second level. We get off and walk past the cubicles covered with pictures and posters to our separate office. “Harry!” Someone calls from across the room, but I pretend not to hear. I can’t let Draco leave before I’ve asked him out.
When I close the door to our office and turn around, he’s already packing his things. If I don’t ask him now, I’ll have to wait until tomorrow. Again. This has been going on for weeks.
“Er… Draco?”
“Hmm?” He doesn’t look up from the piece of parchment he’s examining. I realize that I’ve stuffed my hands into my pockets, like I always do when I’m nervous. I remember Hermione telling me it’s bad body language, so I pull them out and feel stupid afterwards, because Draco happened to choose that exact moment to look up.
“Do you want to go out for drinks or something?”
He looks at me and raises an eyebrow. My stomach is doing back flips.
“Who else is going?”
“No one. Just me and, hopefully, you.
He hides a grin as he leans back in his chair. “Are you asking me out on a date, Potter?”
“I guess you could call it that.”
Shit, he’s not saying anything. I hope he doesn’t burst out laughing—I’d die right here and now.
“Any particular place you have in mind?” he finally asks.
Merlin, what a relief. But that still isn’t a yes, is it?
“How about Babalou?”
His eyes are searching mine. What’s he looking for?
“All right,” he says.
Now I’m beaming like an idiot. “Great. What time should I—?”
“Be there at eleven,” he says as he brushes past me on his way out.
My arm tingles where his body came in contact with it. I mouth a silent “Yes!” and plop down into my leather office chair with a smile on my face. That was easier than I thought.
Continue to chapter 2
Author:
dripping_cherry Pairing: Harry/Draco
Rating: NC-17 (eventually)
Wordcount: 910
Disclaimer: Harry Potter is the property of J.K. Rowling and associated publishers. No copyright infringement is intended. No profit is being made from this fiction. All characters engaged in sexual activity are over the age of 18.
Summary: He’s like an exquisite sweet, protected by so many layers of wrapping that no one’s ever had the patience to get him naked. But I’m Harry Potter, dammit, and I want him for dessert.
A/N: Please note that the Browns in this fic are unrelated to Lavender Brown.
Prologue
Chapter 1
Unlike Draco, I’m not a virgin at 22. In fact, my name and the word virgin probably shouldn’t be used in the same sentence. I didn’t always sleep around, though. For as long as Voldemort was a threat to the wizarding world, I hardly had time to think about sex, let alone have it.
Ginny was my first. We resumed our relationship soon after the war ended, but it didn’t last very long. One time was all it took before I realised that women just didn’t do it for me. I wanted to feel a hard body, not those soft breasts pressed up against me. At first, I was worried that it might be difficult to find a boyfriend, but I soon learned that everyone— I look over at Draco—well, almost everyone,
wanted a taste of Harry Potter.
Since then, I’ve been rather busy. It’s not that I’m afraid of commitment. I just happen to like variety. Every man has his own, unique way of kissing. Some like the sex rough; others like it slow and gentle. Some are shy and quiet; others voice their pleasure openly.
Whenever I see an attractive bloke, I imagine what he might be like in bed. Then I take him home and explore his body, finding all the places that make him beg for more. If I like him, I might meet him a few more times before moving on to the next one. The change keeps sex interesting.
Great. Now my trousers are starting to feel tight. I really shouldn’t be thinking about sex on the job.
“Harry, have you been writing this down?” Draco glares accusingly at me.
Thankfully, the notepad resting on my lap is hiding my erection. “Er... yeah.”
He knows I haven’t written anything down, but he lets it go and turns his mercuric eyes back to Mrs Brown.
“As soon as we have any new information, we’ll let you know," Draco tells her. “In the meantime, if you think of anything that might help us get to the bottom of this, send me an owl.”
“I certainly will,” says Mrs Brown, more interested in picking up our empty teacups than the conversation. “Thank you for coming.”
Draco offers her an encouraging smile and turns to leave. “Come, Potter,” he says as he walks past me.
I’ll come for you, I think as I follow him out the front door.
It feels good to step out into the cool air after sitting in that stuffy house for nearly an hour.
“You didn’t write down a word that woman said!” Draco accuses me before I can take a deep breath.
“She didn’t say anything worth writing down.” That’s a lie. Actually, I barely even heard a word she said.
Draco shakes his head. “I knew I should have brought my Quick-Notes Quill,” he mutters under his breath before we Apparate back to London.
He doesn’t say another word until we step into the lift at the Ministry. “She seems odd, doesn’t she?” he asks, brows scrunched together slightly.
“Who?”
“Mrs Brown.” His voice is dripping with forced patience.
I shrug, looking down to hide my embarrassment at neglecting my duty as an Auror. It’s just so difficult to concentrate on my work when he’s around. I’d better get a handle on that. He’s my partner now, so he’ll be around a lot.
“She just seems too calm and disinterested for a woman whose husband has gone missing,” says Draco.
“People react in different ways,” I say.
The lift stops at the second level. We get off and walk past the cubicles covered with pictures and posters to our separate office. “Harry!” Someone calls from across the room, but I pretend not to hear. I can’t let Draco leave before I’ve asked him out.
When I close the door to our office and turn around, he’s already packing his things. If I don’t ask him now, I’ll have to wait until tomorrow. Again. This has been going on for weeks.
“Er… Draco?”
“Hmm?” He doesn’t look up from the piece of parchment he’s examining. I realize that I’ve stuffed my hands into my pockets, like I always do when I’m nervous. I remember Hermione telling me it’s bad body language, so I pull them out and feel stupid afterwards, because Draco happened to choose that exact moment to look up.
“Do you want to go out for drinks or something?”
He looks at me and raises an eyebrow. My stomach is doing back flips.
“Who else is going?”
“No one. Just me and, hopefully, you.
He hides a grin as he leans back in his chair. “Are you asking me out on a date, Potter?”
“I guess you could call it that.”
Shit, he’s not saying anything. I hope he doesn’t burst out laughing—I’d die right here and now.
“Any particular place you have in mind?” he finally asks.
Merlin, what a relief. But that still isn’t a yes, is it?
“How about Babalou?”
His eyes are searching mine. What’s he looking for?
“All right,” he says.
Now I’m beaming like an idiot. “Great. What time should I—?”
“Be there at eleven,” he says as he brushes past me on his way out.
My arm tingles where his body came in contact with it. I mouth a silent “Yes!” and plop down into my leather office chair with a smile on my face. That was easier than I thought.
Continue to chapter 2
