Harry the Latte Boy 3/5
Feb. 5th, 2009 11:55 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
maja_liTitle: Harry the Latte Boy (3/5)
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Rating: PG-13 (this chapter)
Warning: AU!
Disclaimer: Harry&co. belong to JKR. Not me.
Summary: Draco's vacation is not going the way he'd planned--but that might turn out to be a good thing.
A/N: Written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
awdt 's Valentine's Quickie #2, "being stood up." (I am going to catch up over the weekend, I SWEAR.) Inspired by the song Taylor the Latte Boy, by Kristen Chenoweth.
“Draco—Draco wait, please!”
Draco turned, disbelieving, and saw Harry hurrying up the path toward him. Harry’s cheeks were flushed, and his hair had come loose from its ponytail and tumbled around his face in disarray.
“Listen, it’s fine,” Draco began thickly, hastily wiping the tear tracks from his face as Harry drew near. “You forgot that you had a rehearsal to go to. I understand.”
“I didn’t forget!” Harry protested. He reached up to fiddle with his ponytail in what Draco was already coming to recognize as a nervous habit. “I…I decided to skip it so we could have dinner. Ron’s furious.” He chuckled weakly. Draco just stared.
“Are you serious?” he demanded. “You stood up your own band mates to have dinner with a fellow you met less than two hours ago?” Something in him thrilled at the thought, but Draco quickly shoved it down. Harry probably really was that hard up for a good shag—from what Draco had seen, there was quite a dearth of available gay men in these parts.
“Yep!” Harry replied cheerfully. “And if I hadn’t caught up with you I would have searched every hotel on this beach until I found you—oh, I’m not a stalker or anything!” He added quickly, looking slightly chagrined. “I swear. I just wanted to give you this.” He held out a glossy rectangle of black paper, scrawled across in fancy gold print with the name Taylor and a long number in the lower right hand corner. “It’s a ticket to our show on Friday night. We’re playing at The Village, it’s a theme bar in town…I thought maybe you’d come see me play.”
He scuffed at the ground with one sandaled foot, looking up at Draco with such a tentative, hopeful expression that made the blond’s resolve crumble like a dry sand castle.
“I’ll be there,” he promised, taking the ticket and watching Harry’s face light up when he tucked it into his breast pocket. “It’ll be my one good experience from this hell of a vacation before I fly back to London.”
Harry made as if to speak, but then subsided. “All right,” he said, sounding less thrilled than he’d looked a moment before. “We’ll do it that way, then.”
“…beg pardon?”
“Oh, nothing.” Harry took a step forward, his fingers resting lightly on the pocket where Draco had put the ticket. “Can I have a kiss goodnight? Before you go back to your hotel?”
Draco opened his mouth, unsure whether his reply was going to be a yes or a no—but the instant his lips parted Harry covered them with his own, his hands fisting in Draco’s shirt. Draco stumbled a little, thrown off balance, and Harry took the opportunity to drag him closer and slide his thigh in between Draco’s parted legs. Harry made no attempt to take advantage of his new position, however; he seemed content to simply stand there, tangled up with Draco from knees to noses while they kissed. His tongue danced over Draco’s mouth, swiping the salt of the sea air from his upper lip and dragging along the ridge of his palate, making passion and eagerness well up inside Draco until he was sure he would overflow—and the only outlet for it was back into Harry, so that Draco was forced to reach up and wrap his arms around Harry’s neck, to pull himself deeper into the kiss and pour out his desire.
Too soon, it was over. Harry pulled away gently, nipping at Draco’s bottom lip as their mouths parted.
“I have to go,” he whispered shakily. “Ron and the others are waiting for me. And—and you need your sleep.”
“I suppose I do.” Draco reluctantly released his grip on the other man, surprised by how much effort of will it took to drop his arms back to his sides. His head was spinning, he had no idea what to make of the situation, everything was definitely moving too fast…
“I’ll see you Friday, right?” Harry asked. Draco latched onto the thought like a lifeline.
“Yes! Yes. Friday night.” If he could manage to make it until Friday, everything else was sure to work itself out.
Harry turned to go, walked a few steps down the path, then wheeled and ran back where Draco was standing. He planted one more swift, hard kiss firmly on the other man’s lips—and then fled. Draco carefully did not raise his hand to his lips, feeling them swell from all the amorous attentions, and very carefully did not savor the memory that it was Harry who had put them in that state.
Friday night, he reminded himself. Just wait until Friday night.
tbc...
Part Four
Previous parts: Part One Part Two
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Rating: PG-13 (this chapter)
Warning: AU!
Disclaimer: Harry&co. belong to JKR. Not me.
Summary: Draco's vacation is not going the way he'd planned--but that might turn out to be a good thing.
A/N: Written for
awdt 's Valentine's Quickie #2, "being stood up." (I am going to catch up over the weekend, I SWEAR.) Inspired by the song Taylor the Latte Boy, by Kristen Chenoweth.“Draco—Draco wait, please!”
Draco turned, disbelieving, and saw Harry hurrying up the path toward him. Harry’s cheeks were flushed, and his hair had come loose from its ponytail and tumbled around his face in disarray.
“Listen, it’s fine,” Draco began thickly, hastily wiping the tear tracks from his face as Harry drew near. “You forgot that you had a rehearsal to go to. I understand.”
“I didn’t forget!” Harry protested. He reached up to fiddle with his ponytail in what Draco was already coming to recognize as a nervous habit. “I…I decided to skip it so we could have dinner. Ron’s furious.” He chuckled weakly. Draco just stared.
“Are you serious?” he demanded. “You stood up your own band mates to have dinner with a fellow you met less than two hours ago?” Something in him thrilled at the thought, but Draco quickly shoved it down. Harry probably really was that hard up for a good shag—from what Draco had seen, there was quite a dearth of available gay men in these parts.
“Yep!” Harry replied cheerfully. “And if I hadn’t caught up with you I would have searched every hotel on this beach until I found you—oh, I’m not a stalker or anything!” He added quickly, looking slightly chagrined. “I swear. I just wanted to give you this.” He held out a glossy rectangle of black paper, scrawled across in fancy gold print with the name Taylor and a long number in the lower right hand corner. “It’s a ticket to our show on Friday night. We’re playing at The Village, it’s a theme bar in town…I thought maybe you’d come see me play.”
He scuffed at the ground with one sandaled foot, looking up at Draco with such a tentative, hopeful expression that made the blond’s resolve crumble like a dry sand castle.
“I’ll be there,” he promised, taking the ticket and watching Harry’s face light up when he tucked it into his breast pocket. “It’ll be my one good experience from this hell of a vacation before I fly back to London.”
Harry made as if to speak, but then subsided. “All right,” he said, sounding less thrilled than he’d looked a moment before. “We’ll do it that way, then.”
“…beg pardon?”
“Oh, nothing.” Harry took a step forward, his fingers resting lightly on the pocket where Draco had put the ticket. “Can I have a kiss goodnight? Before you go back to your hotel?”
Draco opened his mouth, unsure whether his reply was going to be a yes or a no—but the instant his lips parted Harry covered them with his own, his hands fisting in Draco’s shirt. Draco stumbled a little, thrown off balance, and Harry took the opportunity to drag him closer and slide his thigh in between Draco’s parted legs. Harry made no attempt to take advantage of his new position, however; he seemed content to simply stand there, tangled up with Draco from knees to noses while they kissed. His tongue danced over Draco’s mouth, swiping the salt of the sea air from his upper lip and dragging along the ridge of his palate, making passion and eagerness well up inside Draco until he was sure he would overflow—and the only outlet for it was back into Harry, so that Draco was forced to reach up and wrap his arms around Harry’s neck, to pull himself deeper into the kiss and pour out his desire.
Too soon, it was over. Harry pulled away gently, nipping at Draco’s bottom lip as their mouths parted.
“I have to go,” he whispered shakily. “Ron and the others are waiting for me. And—and you need your sleep.”
“I suppose I do.” Draco reluctantly released his grip on the other man, surprised by how much effort of will it took to drop his arms back to his sides. His head was spinning, he had no idea what to make of the situation, everything was definitely moving too fast…
“I’ll see you Friday, right?” Harry asked. Draco latched onto the thought like a lifeline.
“Yes! Yes. Friday night.” If he could manage to make it until Friday, everything else was sure to work itself out.
Harry turned to go, walked a few steps down the path, then wheeled and ran back where Draco was standing. He planted one more swift, hard kiss firmly on the other man’s lips—and then fled. Draco carefully did not raise his hand to his lips, feeling them swell from all the amorous attentions, and very carefully did not savor the memory that it was Harry who had put them in that state.
Friday night, he reminded himself. Just wait until Friday night.
tbc...
Part Four
Previous parts: Part One Part Two
