The Aftermath - AWDT fic
May. 22nd, 2005 02:52 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
moonlite_trystTitle: The Aftermath
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
luciology
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: H/D
Word Count: 712
Summary: Harry and Draco suffer the consequences of their bargain.
Disclaimer: No ownership, no money.
Beta: The ever wonderfulautumnlecroix
A/N This follows on from last weeks fic The Art of Persuasion with an attempt to use the prompt Are you gonna be my girl?
Written forjamie2109 and nocturnali’s AWDT.
Draco looked over to where Harry sat; his knees were drawn up with his arms resting on them, a tight ball of anger.
“Harry, I…”
“Fuck off.”
“Come on, Harry.”
“I said Fuck. Off.”
Draco took a deep breath and tried to keep the edge out of his voice, he didn’t like talking to Harry’s back. “Look, I’m only trying to…”
“Oh, I know what you’re trying to do, Draco. That’s why I’m not listening.” Harry rolled his shoulders back and eased his neck gently from side to side, before continuing, “Now leave me alone, or I may do something I’ll regret later on.”
Apology unaccepted – so far.
The silence stretched out between them, but Draco wasn’t beaten, yet. Looking around his surroundings he spotted the floor cushions, the very cause of their current predicament, which Harry had purchased earlier.
He eased himself up slowly, feeling slightly stiff, and quietly collected the cushions then returned to the same spot. Piling them on top of each other he carefully sat down.
“Actually, these are surprisingly comfortable,” he declared.
Harry’s head turned slightly in his direction, eyeing him warily.
“Oh yes, I think they will be the perfect addition to our home.”
“What will?” Harry murmured.
Result!, Draco thought, and quickly continued.
“These floor cushions, they are quite comfortable – see?” Draco gave several experimental bounces to prove his point, but Harry didn’t reply. Undeterred by Harry’s refusal to join in the conversation any further, Draco continued to wax lyrical about said items.
“You can prop them up to sit against, spread them out to lie down on, pile them up to lean on, or…” he lowered his voice, looked across at Harry and purred, “over.”
At this, Harry turned to face him completely: less angry, more dejected. “It’s that kind of thinking that got us where we are, Draco, give it a rest.”
Draco rallied his own defence. “You were the one who arrived back at the car in twenty five minutes, all sparkling eyes, flushed face and panting. Do you have any idea what that does to me? How you affect me when you look like that? I couldn’t wait to get you home and give you your reward for being so quick.”
“So I discovered,” Harry answered, smiling slightly at him.
Noticing the smile for the olive branch it was, Draco tried again. “Harry, I’m really sorry.”
“I know, Draco.”
Apology accepted, then.
Draco spread the cushions out and patted the one next to him. Harry scooted over and sat next to him, leaning on his shoulder. Draco wrapped his left arm around Harry and kissed the top of his head gently, before asking, “How much longer do you think they’ll be?”
“I don’t know,” Harry sighed. “The woman in the control room said it could take several hours because it’s a Saturday and they’re busy.” They sat in companionable silence for a while, on the grass verge, as Draco continued to stroke Harry’s arm and occasionally kiss his head.
Finally Harry spoke, “Do you think Minnie will be alright?”
“She’ll be fine, Harry. They’ll sort her out, you’ll see.” They both looked across to the car: a convertable Mini Cooper in British Racing Green (although Draco tried to assert that it was, in fact, Slytherin green) with its back end just visible from the top of the ditch they had slid into.
Harry stood and walked across the empty country lane to the car. Reaching out, he ran his hand along the rear bumper. “You’ll still be my girl when you’re repaired,” he said affectionately.
“Harry, they’re here,” Draco called, pointing up the hill. Harry looked up the winding lane to see the distinctive yellow of the AA tow truck coming to their rescue.
After surveying the damage, the AA patrol man took out his clipboard and pen. Turning to where the two young men stood, he enquired, “How’d the accident happen then?” and looked from one to the other. Draco glanced at Harry, who in turn was staring at the ground, looking distinctly embarrassed.
“It was some sort of muscle spasm,” Draco offered. “Then he began to lose control of the car on the bend.” Harry winced and looked up at Draco, who smirked back, his expression full of challenge.
The patrol man raised an eyebrow. “It's a pity you didn't help him then, grabbed the wheel or something.”
Harry answered Draco's challenge with a mischievous grin of his own. He turned to face the patrol man, looked him squarely in the eye and said, “He couldn't, because he had his mouth full.”
Note: In the UK the Automobile Association is known as the AA.
Author:
luciologyRating: PG-13
Pairing: H/D
Word Count: 712
Summary: Harry and Draco suffer the consequences of their bargain.
Disclaimer: No ownership, no money.
Beta: The ever wonderful
autumnlecroixA/N This follows on from last weeks fic The Art of Persuasion with an attempt to use the prompt Are you gonna be my girl?
Written for
jamie2109 and nocturnali’s AWDT.Draco looked over to where Harry sat; his knees were drawn up with his arms resting on them, a tight ball of anger.
“Harry, I…”
“Fuck off.”
“Come on, Harry.”
“I said Fuck. Off.”
Draco took a deep breath and tried to keep the edge out of his voice, he didn’t like talking to Harry’s back. “Look, I’m only trying to…”
“Oh, I know what you’re trying to do, Draco. That’s why I’m not listening.” Harry rolled his shoulders back and eased his neck gently from side to side, before continuing, “Now leave me alone, or I may do something I’ll regret later on.”
Apology unaccepted – so far.
The silence stretched out between them, but Draco wasn’t beaten, yet. Looking around his surroundings he spotted the floor cushions, the very cause of their current predicament, which Harry had purchased earlier.
He eased himself up slowly, feeling slightly stiff, and quietly collected the cushions then returned to the same spot. Piling them on top of each other he carefully sat down.
“Actually, these are surprisingly comfortable,” he declared.
Harry’s head turned slightly in his direction, eyeing him warily.
“Oh yes, I think they will be the perfect addition to our home.”
“What will?” Harry murmured.
Result!, Draco thought, and quickly continued.
“These floor cushions, they are quite comfortable – see?” Draco gave several experimental bounces to prove his point, but Harry didn’t reply. Undeterred by Harry’s refusal to join in the conversation any further, Draco continued to wax lyrical about said items.
“You can prop them up to sit against, spread them out to lie down on, pile them up to lean on, or…” he lowered his voice, looked across at Harry and purred, “over.”
At this, Harry turned to face him completely: less angry, more dejected. “It’s that kind of thinking that got us where we are, Draco, give it a rest.”
Draco rallied his own defence. “You were the one who arrived back at the car in twenty five minutes, all sparkling eyes, flushed face and panting. Do you have any idea what that does to me? How you affect me when you look like that? I couldn’t wait to get you home and give you your reward for being so quick.”
“So I discovered,” Harry answered, smiling slightly at him.
Noticing the smile for the olive branch it was, Draco tried again. “Harry, I’m really sorry.”
“I know, Draco.”
Apology accepted, then.
Draco spread the cushions out and patted the one next to him. Harry scooted over and sat next to him, leaning on his shoulder. Draco wrapped his left arm around Harry and kissed the top of his head gently, before asking, “How much longer do you think they’ll be?”
“I don’t know,” Harry sighed. “The woman in the control room said it could take several hours because it’s a Saturday and they’re busy.” They sat in companionable silence for a while, on the grass verge, as Draco continued to stroke Harry’s arm and occasionally kiss his head.
Finally Harry spoke, “Do you think Minnie will be alright?”
“She’ll be fine, Harry. They’ll sort her out, you’ll see.” They both looked across to the car: a convertable Mini Cooper in British Racing Green (although Draco tried to assert that it was, in fact, Slytherin green) with its back end just visible from the top of the ditch they had slid into.
Harry stood and walked across the empty country lane to the car. Reaching out, he ran his hand along the rear bumper. “You’ll still be my girl when you’re repaired,” he said affectionately.
“Harry, they’re here,” Draco called, pointing up the hill. Harry looked up the winding lane to see the distinctive yellow of the AA tow truck coming to their rescue.
After surveying the damage, the AA patrol man took out his clipboard and pen. Turning to where the two young men stood, he enquired, “How’d the accident happen then?” and looked from one to the other. Draco glanced at Harry, who in turn was staring at the ground, looking distinctly embarrassed.
“It was some sort of muscle spasm,” Draco offered. “Then he began to lose control of the car on the bend.” Harry winced and looked up at Draco, who smirked back, his expression full of challenge.
The patrol man raised an eyebrow. “It's a pity you didn't help him then, grabbed the wheel or something.”
Harry answered Draco's challenge with a mischievous grin of his own. He turned to face the patrol man, looked him squarely in the eye and said, “He couldn't, because he had his mouth full.”
Note: In the UK the Automobile Association is known as the AA.
