Current mood:	caffeinated
Entry tags:	ficlet, harry/draco

Ficlet: The Wager [Harry/Draco, PG-13]
A remixed version (thanks! Tip) of my drabble, The Wager, I posted yesterday. Results from a sleepless night, too much caffeine and maybe some crack. Edited after rereading in the light of day and a few more cups of coffee.

Title: The Wager
Author: mizBean
Wordcount: 644
Characters/Pairings: Harry/Draco
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Harry makes a shocking discovery

Draco paused in front of the mirror outside Harry's office and carefully smoothed down his hair. The mirror whistled approvingly, and Draco smiled. The emerald green t-shirt was an inspired choice. He picked up the two coffees (hazelnut, no foam latte for him and black, two sugars for Harry) off the table and walked into Harry's office.

Harry, as usual, looked tired and severely in need of a good shag. Hardly surprising considering his horrid interpersonal skills, Draco mused as he sidled over to his co-worker. "So," he said, perching himself atop Harry's desk, "who are we auroring today?"

Harry looked up and turned a rather endearing shade of pink.

Draco grinned. "Yes?"

Harry looked vexed. "It's just… Do you have to wear those low-slung jeans?"

"Please." Draco tossed back his head. "If I'm going to work undercover as a Muggle, I need to look good." He smiled winningly at Harry before stretching his arms above his head, allowing his t-shirt to ride up and expose the flat plain of his stomach and the gentle curve of his arse. Harry was so easy to ruffle. A wide-eyed innocent, really. A wide-eyed debauch-me innocent.

Harry's eyes widened.

Ha! Got you to look! Stupid Potter, Slytherins always get their prey. It's in the student handbook.

"Hang on, what's that?"

Fuck. "Erm, nothing." Draco hastily backed off the desk and pulled his shirt down.

"Wait, on your arse. Is that a tattoo…" Harry squinted, "of a ferret?"

Fuck, fuck, Lord fucking Merlin on a stick. "No!" he shouted a little too loudly.

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Draco." Harry was using that voice that sometimes made Draco wonder if Occlumency wasn't the only thing he had learned from Snape.

Draco shook his head frantically. No, no no! He tripped backward, hitting the wall. He was trapped, and Harry was advancing rapidly towards him. Not for the first time, Draco bemoaned that he, heir to most glorious family name in wizard kind, was now, by a twist of fate and his father's unfortunate taste for evil, at the mercy of Harry fucking Potter.

Harry smiled. "Please."

"Fine." Fucking Potter and his stupid, fucking winsome smile. "I lost a bet. I was drunk," Draco added helpfully, if that would somehow make the whole sordid affair palatable.

Harry laughed. "I warned you about wagering with the Weasleys."

Draco inwardly rolled his eyes. Truth is, he didn't remember much of that night. He and Ron… Weasley, he mentally corrected, were awfully pissed and… and they… Draco winced.

Draco looked up. Harry had moved closer. "Hey, don't get like that," Harry soothed. "I-I Ikindoflikeit." Harry was blushing again.

Fucking Potter and his stupid, adorable pink-stained cheeks.

"You do?" Good one, Malfoy. "I mean, of course, Potter you would like something that reminds you of the most humiliating experience of my life."

"No, NO!" If at all possible Harry turned even pinker. Merlin, he was going to look like a lobster if he kept this up. Harry hovered closer, his hand inching near Draco's hipbone. "No, Draco, that's not it at all." Harry's voice dropped lower, and his face was so close that all Draco could see was his own wide eyes reflected in the lenses of Harry's glasses. "I think…" Harry's fingers grazed the curve of Draco's arse. "It's rather…" Draco swallowed. "Sexy," Harry finished, his lips gently brushing Draco's.

"Um… tfssixs," Draco murmured unhelpfully.

Harry smiled.

Fuck this. Am I a Malfoy or a sodding Hufflepuff?

Draco grabbed both of Harry's hands, which were just hovering there anyway… asking permission, really… and planted them on each one of his buttocks and pressed himself forward against Harry's stupid, lean, ohmygod hard body. "It's about time," he breathed, pressing his lips to Harry's.

Harry pulled back, looking horribly affronted. "Me? You're the one who…"

"Shut it, Potter. Just fucking kiss me already."