jennavere (![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} jennavere) wrote,@ 2006-01-20 22:44:00 |
|
YES! Finally, more crack!fic
Bet some of you thought I’d given up on Ida and my ClosetDom!Harry and UnApologeticallyBottom!Draco crack!fic. Not on your life. Sorry, but y’all aren’t that lucky =).
Ida, doll, this is for you!
*****
Part I: Crossing the Great Divide.
Part II: To Bottom!Draco and Crack Fics, eh?
Part III: Knockers Who Knock and Get Knocked in Return
Part IV: Who's Your Daddy?
Part V: Bottom!Draco Slides Into His Top Shoes
Part VI: Draco’s Real Daddy
Part VII: The Engagement
And now, Part omfg VIII:
*****
I’m Too Sexy For My Swede
Too Sexy For My Swede, Too Sexy Indeed…
*****
It was a beautiful day at Malfoy Manor. A truly beautiful day. Sure it was gray and rainy, but when you were Harry Potter and staying in your boyfriend’s – make that fiancé’s – mansion, it was always a beautiful day.
Draco had gone off somewhere in the Manor, most likely to ponce about and be rich. Harry savoured a moment in their luxiourous room, wondering if he should go after him. Draco had mentioned something about dinner, and Harry was feeling a bit peckish and wouldn’t mind a bite to –
BANG! CRASH! SLAM!
The door to Harry’s room was flung open to reveal a panicked-looking Swede.
“Preston!” Harry snarled, drawing his wand. “What the fuck are you –”
“For fuck’s sake, Potter, hide me!”
Harry gaped at him. “Hide you? But whatever –”
Harry was cut off by a loud voice out in the hall.
“Preston, my little Swedish kitten, where have you run off to? Daddy’s not going to be happy with you when he finds you!”
Preston paled. “Please, Potter, please,” he begged, dropping to his knees. “I’m begging you.”
Harry hesitated. Preston was kinky. He was pervy. He was hell-bent on making Draco his own personal sub.
But he was also in trouble, and Harry had a long-standing soft spot for people in trouble.
“Sven Preston Lyangston!” Came the voice, sounding much closer. “I’m not playing, Kitten! You’re going to be in big trouble!”
Preston swallowed nervously. “Help. Me,” he said, in a very small voice.
“Fuck,” Harry swore, as his Saviour of the Universe complex kicked into action. He simply could not resist a bloke who needed saving.
“In the closet,” he hissed.
Relief washed over Preston’s face. “Thank you,” he said fervently as he scrambled to his feet, and then with some difficulty managed to fit himself in Harry’s closet.
And just in the nick of time, too, as Harry’s doorframe was suddenly filled with none other than Lucius Malfoy. When the blonde man caught sight of Harry, his eyes narrowed.
“Potter,” he said coldly.
Harry smiled winningly. “Hi Daddy.”
“Don’t,” Lucius snapped, “call me that!”
“But you’re going to be my father-in-law,” Harry simpered.
Lucius pointed a stern finger at him. “Irrelevant. You may be marrying my son but you will refer to me as Mr. Malfoy for the rest of your life. The only person I want to hear call me Daddy is Draco.”
There was a snort from Harry’s closet.
“What was that?” Lucius asked sharply.
“Er…Hedwig,” Harry said hastily. “She’s got a, um…cold. An owl cold.”
“Hmm.” Lucius didn’t look convinced. “Potter, have you seen Preston, by any chance?”
Harry could have sworn he heard a whimper in the closet.
“No, haven’t seen him,” Harry said quickly.
“You’re not hiding him somewhere, are you?” Lucius asked suspiciously.
Harry rolled his eyes. “First, where would I hide a 6 foot 8 Swede? And second, would I cover for the psycho who tried to steal Draco from me?”
“I suppose not,” Lucius admitted. He straightened up, swishing his cloak around him. “Well, if you do see him, send him my way, would you?” he requested as he headed for the door.
“Sure thing, Daddy,” Harry called after him.
“And bloody stop calling me that!” Lucius snarled as he left.
*****
“Thanks, Potter, I owe you one,” said Preston, as he gingerly extracted himself from the closet.
“No kidding. What was that all about?”
Preston looked a bit shifty. “Er…nothing.”
“The hell it’s nothing. What were you hiding from Lucius for?”
Preston looked uncomfortable. “It’s complicated.”
“Did I hear him call you kitten?”
Preston winced. “NO!” he snapped crossly. “Now fuck off.”
Harry raised an eyebrow. “You know, nothing’s stopping me from going out in that hall and calling Lucius back i –”
“Nonono, please don’t!” Preston pleaded, all bravado gone. “He’ll shag me again!”
Harry stared. “You…he…you shagged Lucius?”
Preston shuffled his feet. “Sort of. He may have technically, uh…shagged me.”
Harry goggled.
“Four times,” Preston claified.
Harry remained speechless, until Preston winced visibly
“Are you alright?” Harry asked in concern.
Preston hesitated. “Well, I may have gotten a bit of a cramp last night.”
“Oh? And what were you doing that would have given you a cramp?”
“…Iwashandcuffedokayshutup.”
The corner of Harry’s mouth quirked up. “Handcuffed, eh? And now your back hurts? I bet Lucius would massage it for you.”
“No way! I’m not getting anywhere near that pervert Dom!”
Harry cocked his head to one side. “Do you have an expression in Swedish that translates to the pot calling the kettle black?”
“No, why?”
“Er…nothing. Look, I’m sure Lucius would have let you go if you’d used your safe word.” Harry said sensibly. “Why didn’t you just tell him you were uncomfortable?”
Preston fidgeted. “No reason…” he said cagily.
Harry’s mouth dropped open. “Oh my God,” he said in wonder. “It turned you on!”
“It didn’t either!”
“It did.”
“Didn’t!”
“Of course it did. Preston, you’re three times his size. If you didn’t like it, why didn’t you just kick his arse when he tried it in the first place?”
There was a resentful silence, as Preston narrowed his eyes and glowered at Harry.
“Preston’s a Closet sub,” Harry said gleefully. “Who would have guessed?”
“If you tell a soul, Potter…” Preston said threateningly.
“Oh come off, I won’t tell anyone,” Harry said reassuringly. “But boy, have you been over-compensating.”
“Oh fuck off,” Preston growled. Then he winced again, looking as if he were in a great deal of pain.
Sympathy shot through Harry. “Your back’s really off, isn’t it?”
Preston shrugged. “I can handle it.”
Harry looked at him appraisingly. “You know, sometimes a massage can fix stiff muscles.”
“Are you offering?” Preston asked hopefully.
Now Harry shrugged. “Sure. I hate seeing anyone in pain. Especially subs,” he added wickedly.
“Don’t push it, Potter,” Preston warned, standing up straighter and glaring down at Harry.
Harry swallowed. “Not pushing it, Preston,” he assured the bigger man. He gestured to the bed. “Get on your stomach, and I’ll see if I can fix your back.”
“Alright. But I’ll take my shirt off first, so it’s not in the way,” Preston said, pulling his shirt off over his head. “And I think I might slip out of these trousers, too. They’re a bit tight, and I want to relax for this.”
“Sure,” Harry said, as Preston de-robed. “I’m just going to get some massage oil.”
He knelt and dug around in his suitcase, pulling out a large bottle of oil. “Here we go,” he said, straightening. He unscrewed the cap. “Mmm, I love the smell.”
Harry took two steps and then tripped, and the oil spilled everywhere. “Oh bugger, it’s all over my clothes,” Harry said, shaking his head. “I better take them off.”
He set the oil down and quickly stripped off his shirt and trousers. “Looks like there’s enough left for your massage, luckily.”
“My Swedish massage,” Preston said dreamily, stretching out on the bed in nothing but his black boxer briefs.
“So where does it hurt?” Harry asked, as he climbed onto the bed dressed in nothing but boxers.
“My lower back,” Preston said, closing his eyes.
“Guess I’ll have to climb on top of you, then,” Harry said, straddling Preston’s hips. He put a bit of oil on his hands and began to rub Preston’s back with long, soothing strokes.
“Mmm, Harry, that’s divine,” Preston mumbled, relaxing under him.
“Thanks,” Harry said, concentrating on the knot in Preston’s lower back. Then he snorted. “Do you realize how ridiculous this situation is? You’re barely dressed, I’m barely dressed, you’re oiled up, I’m on top of you…I mean, if someone walked in right now they’d completely get the wrong idea! In fact, you couldn’t set up a more clichéd, over-the-top moment for someone to mistakenly believe I was cheating on Draco!”
Preston and Harry shared a laugh.
That was quickly ruined as a shriek shattered the air.
“HOW COULD YOU, HARRY?! HOW COULD YOU CHEAT ON ME WITH PRESTON?!”
The two men turned just in time to see the back of Draco’s bright blonde head as he bolted from the bedroom.
There was silence for a moment. Finally, Harry cleared his throat.
“Well…shit.”
*****
Bang bang bang!
“Ida, are you there? It’s Harry, let me in!”
Ida opened the door to see a sloppily-dressed Harry on her doorstep, wringing his hands anxiously.
“What’s up, Harry?”
“Is Draco here?”
Ida shook her head. “Nope.”
“But…but he always comes here when he’s upset!”
Ida raised an eyebrow. “Did you upset him?”
Harry winced. “Yeah…but it was an accident. I have to explain it to him!”
“Well, he may be with Jen again. Hang on, I’ll call.”
Ida picked up her mobile and dialed. “Hey Jen? Yeah, it’s Ida. Hey listen, is Draco…oh….oh I see…he what?! He couldn’t have…Draco saw them doing what? Wearing what? No way...yeah, I’ll tell him. Bye.”
Ida hung up the phone and leveled an icy stare at Harry. “Jen says to stay the hell away from Draco, you lying, cheating asshole.”
“It’s arsehole.”
“It’s irrelevant because you’re never going to get laid again and you damn well deserve it,” Ida snapped, ready to slam the door.
“No, wait, listen,” Harry said desperately. “Let me just explain what really happened…”
*****
“Draco, are you sure this is a good idea?” Jen said, surveying the crowded room. “I mean, don’t you think that you getting smashed and going wild at a gay club is going to make Harry unbelievably jealous?”
Draco’s lower lip trembled. “Fuck Harry,” he said, sniffling. “He’s probably fucking Preston right now and doesn’t give a shit about what I do.”
“Poor baby,” Jen said sympathetically. She took another look around the room, taking in the hot male bodies in close-fitting clothes writhing on the dance floor. “Well, I can’t say I mind being here,” she admitted, tapping her toes to the rousing beat of It’s Raining Men.
“Can I get you two any drinks?” said a waiter, materializing out of nowhere. He was leering at Draco.
“Er…” Jenna began, looking alarmed. “Draco, are you sure you want –”
“You’re right. Fuck the drinks,” Draco said, throwing dramatic hands in the air. “I’m going to drown my sorrows on the dance floor.”
Jen watched as Draco took five steps towards the dance floor and instantly had four guys surrounding him.
She sighed. “Well, it’ll be worth it to see the fit that Harry throws.”
*****
“Jen? Jenna!”
Ida and Harry rushed up to the table. Harry’s eyes were wild.
“Where’s Draco?” he demanded.
“Like I’d tell you, you big cheater.”
“But I didn’t cheat on Draco! I was just giving Preston a massage, honestly, because his back was bothering him. That’s all!”
Jen raised an eyebrow. “Really?”
“I swear. It’s all such a ridiculous misunderstanding. Almost as if we were being set up by some low-class author who uses cheap plot devices to get her characters to do the ludicrous things she wants them to do.”
“You don’t say,” Jen said, looking a bit shifty.
Ida suddenly cleared her throat. “Uh…Harry?”
“Yeah?”
“Whatever you do, don’t look behind you.”
Harry immediately whirled around. Then his entire body went rigid and his hands balled into fists at his sides.
“DRACO LUCIUS MALFOY!”
Ida winced. “I told him not to look.”
Draco was in the centre of the dance floor, sandwiched between two large men, all three of them grinding on each other as if public sex had just been made legal.
Harry was nearly growling in anger. He strode across the dance floor and in three seconds had bodily yanked the other men off Draco.
“Get away from fiancé!” he snarled in fury, sending one man sprawling to the ground. “And you!” he snapped at Draco. “Get away from these…these…lechers!”
Draco immediately got up in Harry’s face. “Don’t you dare act all righteous now, you cheating prick! If you’re going to fuck my ex then I think I’ve got the right to a bit of dirty dancing!”
Harry threw up his hands. “But I didn’t –”
“I said fuck off, Harry!” Draco yelled. “Go back to fucking fucking Preston!”
Jen and Ida exchanged a look.
“Go back to fucking…”
“…fucking Preston. I suppose it does make sense. Sort of.”
“Omigod, girls, this just got good, didn’t it?” said a man in a bright pink halter and fishnet stockings.
“Those two are fucking sexy, going at each other like that,” another man agreed. Most of the patrons in the club had stopped drinking and dancing to watch Harry and Draco’s stand off.
“I WASN’T having sex with Preston!” Harry snapped.
“The hell you weren’t! I saw you!”
“I was just going to give him a massage!”
“A likely story! What did Preston need a massage for? FOREPLAY?”
“NO! His back was sore because he spent the night with –”
Harry promptly clapped a hand over his own mouth.
“Spent the night with who?” Draco repeated dangerously.
Harry just shook his head. “I can’t tell you. I promised.”
“Potter,” Draco spat. “You have to tell me.”
“I can’t,” Harry said miserably. “I can’t, I promised Preston I wouldn’t.”
“Break. Your. Promise!”
“But I’m a Gryffindor!”
“And you’re going to be a very single Gryffindor if you don’t tell me who Preston spent the –”
“He was with me.”
Said the cool new voice in the crowd.
*****
“Lucius!” Ida gasped. “Yowza.”
“He is hot, isn’t he?” Jen whispered. “In that evil sort of way.”
“Oh honey, I know what you mean.”
Said all the nearby gay men in the club, as they turned to watch Lucius Malfoy glide onto the dance floor.
“Draco, you’re not treating your sub very well,” he said smoothly.
Gasps of disbelief went through the crowd.
“Well I never!”
“I thought the big black-haired bloke was in charge!”
“That little blonde can’t be the Dom!”
Draco swallowed. “Daddy?” he said warily. “Are you saying…what I think you’re saying?”
“Well, that depends,” Lucius said thoughtfully. “If you think I’m saying that I spent last night making your ex-boyfriend my bitch, then yes, I most certainly am.”
Draco gaped. “You…topped Preston?”
“Mmm-hmm. Four times.” Then Lucius furrowed his elegant brow. “Though I wish I’d known the handcuffs were uncomfortable. I really would have let him go.”
“Where’s Preston now?”
Lucius sighed. “He’s run off again, that little minx. Rest assured though, I’m going to track my Swedish kitten down. We have…unfinished business.”
A collective shiver went through the watching audience.
“At any rate, he’s not here, so I’ll be on my way.” Lucius patted his stunned son on the head. “By the way, your mother says hi.”
And as silently as he had appeared, he vanished.
*****
Draco had gone very pale. “My dad and Preston. My dad and Preston. Preston and…” His eyes suddenly lit up as colour came back to his face. “…not Harry. NOT Harry and Preston!”
“That’s right,” a nearby voice growled. “There was never any Harry and Preston. But there was Draco and strange men on the dance floor.”
As quickly as his colour had returned, it fled again, as Draco turned to see Harry glaring at him furiously.
Draco swallowed nervously. “Heh heh heh,” he said, fidgeting under Harry’s gaze.
“Draco,” Harry said warningly.
Draco squirmed. “I know, I know. I’ve been a very bad boy.”
“Very,” Harry said meaningfully. “Home. NOW.”
They disappeared.
“I knew the blonde was the sub,” the man in fishnets said smugly.
Jen and Ida exchanged a quick look.
“Telly.”
“Girls.”
“Blaise.”
“Popcorn.”
Then they hesitated.
“Any of you boys want to join us to watch those two get it on?”
There was a rousing cheer as everyone headed off for some quality television programming.
*****The End!*****
Edit: Oh yeah, baby. There's now a Part IX: Wedding Plans.
Bet some of you thought I’d given up on Ida and my ClosetDom!Harry and UnApologeticallyBottom!Draco crack!fic. Not on your life. Sorry, but y’all aren’t that lucky =).
Ida, doll, this is for you!
*****
Part I: Crossing the Great Divide.
Part II: To Bottom!Draco and Crack Fics, eh?
Part III: Knockers Who Knock and Get Knocked in Return
Part IV: Who's Your Daddy?
Part V: Bottom!Draco Slides Into His Top Shoes
Part VI: Draco’s Real Daddy
Part VII: The Engagement
And now, Part omfg VIII:
I’m Too Sexy For My Swede
Too Sexy For My Swede, Too Sexy Indeed…
*****
It was a beautiful day at Malfoy Manor. A truly beautiful day. Sure it was gray and rainy, but when you were Harry Potter and staying in your boyfriend’s – make that fiancé’s – mansion, it was always a beautiful day.
Draco had gone off somewhere in the Manor, most likely to ponce about and be rich. Harry savoured a moment in their luxiourous room, wondering if he should go after him. Draco had mentioned something about dinner, and Harry was feeling a bit peckish and wouldn’t mind a bite to –
BANG! CRASH! SLAM!
The door to Harry’s room was flung open to reveal a panicked-looking Swede.
“Preston!” Harry snarled, drawing his wand. “What the fuck are you –”
“For fuck’s sake, Potter, hide me!”
Harry gaped at him. “Hide you? But whatever –”
Harry was cut off by a loud voice out in the hall.
“Preston, my little Swedish kitten, where have you run off to? Daddy’s not going to be happy with you when he finds you!”
Preston paled. “Please, Potter, please,” he begged, dropping to his knees. “I’m begging you.”
Harry hesitated. Preston was kinky. He was pervy. He was hell-bent on making Draco his own personal sub.
But he was also in trouble, and Harry had a long-standing soft spot for people in trouble.
“Sven Preston Lyangston!” Came the voice, sounding much closer. “I’m not playing, Kitten! You’re going to be in big trouble!”
Preston swallowed nervously. “Help. Me,” he said, in a very small voice.
“Fuck,” Harry swore, as his Saviour of the Universe complex kicked into action. He simply could not resist a bloke who needed saving.
“In the closet,” he hissed.
Relief washed over Preston’s face. “Thank you,” he said fervently as he scrambled to his feet, and then with some difficulty managed to fit himself in Harry’s closet.
And just in the nick of time, too, as Harry’s doorframe was suddenly filled with none other than Lucius Malfoy. When the blonde man caught sight of Harry, his eyes narrowed.
“Potter,” he said coldly.
Harry smiled winningly. “Hi Daddy.”
“Don’t,” Lucius snapped, “call me that!”
“But you’re going to be my father-in-law,” Harry simpered.
Lucius pointed a stern finger at him. “Irrelevant. You may be marrying my son but you will refer to me as Mr. Malfoy for the rest of your life. The only person I want to hear call me Daddy is Draco.”
There was a snort from Harry’s closet.
“What was that?” Lucius asked sharply.
“Er…Hedwig,” Harry said hastily. “She’s got a, um…cold. An owl cold.”
“Hmm.” Lucius didn’t look convinced. “Potter, have you seen Preston, by any chance?”
Harry could have sworn he heard a whimper in the closet.
“No, haven’t seen him,” Harry said quickly.
“You’re not hiding him somewhere, are you?” Lucius asked suspiciously.
Harry rolled his eyes. “First, where would I hide a 6 foot 8 Swede? And second, would I cover for the psycho who tried to steal Draco from me?”
“I suppose not,” Lucius admitted. He straightened up, swishing his cloak around him. “Well, if you do see him, send him my way, would you?” he requested as he headed for the door.
“Sure thing, Daddy,” Harry called after him.
“And bloody stop calling me that!” Lucius snarled as he left.
“Thanks, Potter, I owe you one,” said Preston, as he gingerly extracted himself from the closet.
“No kidding. What was that all about?”
Preston looked a bit shifty. “Er…nothing.”
“The hell it’s nothing. What were you hiding from Lucius for?”
Preston looked uncomfortable. “It’s complicated.”
“Did I hear him call you kitten?”
Preston winced. “NO!” he snapped crossly. “Now fuck off.”
Harry raised an eyebrow. “You know, nothing’s stopping me from going out in that hall and calling Lucius back i –”
“Nonono, please don’t!” Preston pleaded, all bravado gone. “He’ll shag me again!”
Harry stared. “You…he…you shagged Lucius?”
Preston shuffled his feet. “Sort of. He may have technically, uh…shagged me.”
Harry goggled.
“Four times,” Preston claified.
Harry remained speechless, until Preston winced visibly
“Are you alright?” Harry asked in concern.
Preston hesitated. “Well, I may have gotten a bit of a cramp last night.”
“Oh? And what were you doing that would have given you a cramp?”
“…Iwashandcuffedokayshutup.”
The corner of Harry’s mouth quirked up. “Handcuffed, eh? And now your back hurts? I bet Lucius would massage it for you.”
“No way! I’m not getting anywhere near that pervert Dom!”
Harry cocked his head to one side. “Do you have an expression in Swedish that translates to the pot calling the kettle black?”
“No, why?”
“Er…nothing. Look, I’m sure Lucius would have let you go if you’d used your safe word.” Harry said sensibly. “Why didn’t you just tell him you were uncomfortable?”
Preston fidgeted. “No reason…” he said cagily.
Harry’s mouth dropped open. “Oh my God,” he said in wonder. “It turned you on!”
“It didn’t either!”
“It did.”
“Didn’t!”
“Of course it did. Preston, you’re three times his size. If you didn’t like it, why didn’t you just kick his arse when he tried it in the first place?”
There was a resentful silence, as Preston narrowed his eyes and glowered at Harry.
“Preston’s a Closet sub,” Harry said gleefully. “Who would have guessed?”
“If you tell a soul, Potter…” Preston said threateningly.
“Oh come off, I won’t tell anyone,” Harry said reassuringly. “But boy, have you been over-compensating.”
“Oh fuck off,” Preston growled. Then he winced again, looking as if he were in a great deal of pain.
Sympathy shot through Harry. “Your back’s really off, isn’t it?”
Preston shrugged. “I can handle it.”
Harry looked at him appraisingly. “You know, sometimes a massage can fix stiff muscles.”
“Are you offering?” Preston asked hopefully.
Now Harry shrugged. “Sure. I hate seeing anyone in pain. Especially subs,” he added wickedly.
“Don’t push it, Potter,” Preston warned, standing up straighter and glaring down at Harry.
Harry swallowed. “Not pushing it, Preston,” he assured the bigger man. He gestured to the bed. “Get on your stomach, and I’ll see if I can fix your back.”
“Alright. But I’ll take my shirt off first, so it’s not in the way,” Preston said, pulling his shirt off over his head. “And I think I might slip out of these trousers, too. They’re a bit tight, and I want to relax for this.”
“Sure,” Harry said, as Preston de-robed. “I’m just going to get some massage oil.”
He knelt and dug around in his suitcase, pulling out a large bottle of oil. “Here we go,” he said, straightening. He unscrewed the cap. “Mmm, I love the smell.”
Harry took two steps and then tripped, and the oil spilled everywhere. “Oh bugger, it’s all over my clothes,” Harry said, shaking his head. “I better take them off.”
He set the oil down and quickly stripped off his shirt and trousers. “Looks like there’s enough left for your massage, luckily.”
“My Swedish massage,” Preston said dreamily, stretching out on the bed in nothing but his black boxer briefs.
“So where does it hurt?” Harry asked, as he climbed onto the bed dressed in nothing but boxers.
“My lower back,” Preston said, closing his eyes.
“Guess I’ll have to climb on top of you, then,” Harry said, straddling Preston’s hips. He put a bit of oil on his hands and began to rub Preston’s back with long, soothing strokes.
“Mmm, Harry, that’s divine,” Preston mumbled, relaxing under him.
“Thanks,” Harry said, concentrating on the knot in Preston’s lower back. Then he snorted. “Do you realize how ridiculous this situation is? You’re barely dressed, I’m barely dressed, you’re oiled up, I’m on top of you…I mean, if someone walked in right now they’d completely get the wrong idea! In fact, you couldn’t set up a more clichéd, over-the-top moment for someone to mistakenly believe I was cheating on Draco!”
Preston and Harry shared a laugh.
That was quickly ruined as a shriek shattered the air.
“HOW COULD YOU, HARRY?! HOW COULD YOU CHEAT ON ME WITH PRESTON?!”
The two men turned just in time to see the back of Draco’s bright blonde head as he bolted from the bedroom.
There was silence for a moment. Finally, Harry cleared his throat.
“Well…shit.”
Bang bang bang!
“Ida, are you there? It’s Harry, let me in!”
Ida opened the door to see a sloppily-dressed Harry on her doorstep, wringing his hands anxiously.
“What’s up, Harry?”
“Is Draco here?”
Ida shook her head. “Nope.”
“But…but he always comes here when he’s upset!”
Ida raised an eyebrow. “Did you upset him?”
Harry winced. “Yeah…but it was an accident. I have to explain it to him!”
“Well, he may be with Jen again. Hang on, I’ll call.”
Ida picked up her mobile and dialed. “Hey Jen? Yeah, it’s Ida. Hey listen, is Draco…oh….oh I see…he what?! He couldn’t have…Draco saw them doing what? Wearing what? No way...yeah, I’ll tell him. Bye.”
Ida hung up the phone and leveled an icy stare at Harry. “Jen says to stay the hell away from Draco, you lying, cheating asshole.”
“It’s arsehole.”
“It’s irrelevant because you’re never going to get laid again and you damn well deserve it,” Ida snapped, ready to slam the door.
“No, wait, listen,” Harry said desperately. “Let me just explain what really happened…”
“Draco, are you sure this is a good idea?” Jen said, surveying the crowded room. “I mean, don’t you think that you getting smashed and going wild at a gay club is going to make Harry unbelievably jealous?”
Draco’s lower lip trembled. “Fuck Harry,” he said, sniffling. “He’s probably fucking Preston right now and doesn’t give a shit about what I do.”
“Poor baby,” Jen said sympathetically. She took another look around the room, taking in the hot male bodies in close-fitting clothes writhing on the dance floor. “Well, I can’t say I mind being here,” she admitted, tapping her toes to the rousing beat of It’s Raining Men.
“Can I get you two any drinks?” said a waiter, materializing out of nowhere. He was leering at Draco.
“Er…” Jenna began, looking alarmed. “Draco, are you sure you want –”
“You’re right. Fuck the drinks,” Draco said, throwing dramatic hands in the air. “I’m going to drown my sorrows on the dance floor.”
Jen watched as Draco took five steps towards the dance floor and instantly had four guys surrounding him.
She sighed. “Well, it’ll be worth it to see the fit that Harry throws.”
“Jen? Jenna!”
Ida and Harry rushed up to the table. Harry’s eyes were wild.
“Where’s Draco?” he demanded.
“Like I’d tell you, you big cheater.”
“But I didn’t cheat on Draco! I was just giving Preston a massage, honestly, because his back was bothering him. That’s all!”
Jen raised an eyebrow. “Really?”
“I swear. It’s all such a ridiculous misunderstanding. Almost as if we were being set up by some low-class author who uses cheap plot devices to get her characters to do the ludicrous things she wants them to do.”
“You don’t say,” Jen said, looking a bit shifty.
Ida suddenly cleared her throat. “Uh…Harry?”
“Yeah?”
“Whatever you do, don’t look behind you.”
Harry immediately whirled around. Then his entire body went rigid and his hands balled into fists at his sides.
“DRACO LUCIUS MALFOY!”
Ida winced. “I told him not to look.”
Draco was in the centre of the dance floor, sandwiched between two large men, all three of them grinding on each other as if public sex had just been made legal.
Harry was nearly growling in anger. He strode across the dance floor and in three seconds had bodily yanked the other men off Draco.
“Get away from fiancé!” he snarled in fury, sending one man sprawling to the ground. “And you!” he snapped at Draco. “Get away from these…these…lechers!”
Draco immediately got up in Harry’s face. “Don’t you dare act all righteous now, you cheating prick! If you’re going to fuck my ex then I think I’ve got the right to a bit of dirty dancing!”
Harry threw up his hands. “But I didn’t –”
“I said fuck off, Harry!” Draco yelled. “Go back to fucking fucking Preston!”
Jen and Ida exchanged a look.
“Go back to fucking…”
“…fucking Preston. I suppose it does make sense. Sort of.”
“Omigod, girls, this just got good, didn’t it?” said a man in a bright pink halter and fishnet stockings.
“Those two are fucking sexy, going at each other like that,” another man agreed. Most of the patrons in the club had stopped drinking and dancing to watch Harry and Draco’s stand off.
“I WASN’T having sex with Preston!” Harry snapped.
“The hell you weren’t! I saw you!”
“I was just going to give him a massage!”
“A likely story! What did Preston need a massage for? FOREPLAY?”
“NO! His back was sore because he spent the night with –”
Harry promptly clapped a hand over his own mouth.
“Spent the night with who?” Draco repeated dangerously.
Harry just shook his head. “I can’t tell you. I promised.”
“Potter,” Draco spat. “You have to tell me.”
“I can’t,” Harry said miserably. “I can’t, I promised Preston I wouldn’t.”
“Break. Your. Promise!”
“But I’m a Gryffindor!”
“And you’re going to be a very single Gryffindor if you don’t tell me who Preston spent the –”
“He was with me.”
Said the cool new voice in the crowd.
“Lucius!” Ida gasped. “Yowza.”
“He is hot, isn’t he?” Jen whispered. “In that evil sort of way.”
“Oh honey, I know what you mean.”
Said all the nearby gay men in the club, as they turned to watch Lucius Malfoy glide onto the dance floor.
“Draco, you’re not treating your sub very well,” he said smoothly.
Gasps of disbelief went through the crowd.
“Well I never!”
“I thought the big black-haired bloke was in charge!”
“That little blonde can’t be the Dom!”
Draco swallowed. “Daddy?” he said warily. “Are you saying…what I think you’re saying?”
“Well, that depends,” Lucius said thoughtfully. “If you think I’m saying that I spent last night making your ex-boyfriend my bitch, then yes, I most certainly am.”
Draco gaped. “You…topped Preston?”
“Mmm-hmm. Four times.” Then Lucius furrowed his elegant brow. “Though I wish I’d known the handcuffs were uncomfortable. I really would have let him go.”
“Where’s Preston now?”
Lucius sighed. “He’s run off again, that little minx. Rest assured though, I’m going to track my Swedish kitten down. We have…unfinished business.”
A collective shiver went through the watching audience.
“At any rate, he’s not here, so I’ll be on my way.” Lucius patted his stunned son on the head. “By the way, your mother says hi.”
And as silently as he had appeared, he vanished.
Draco had gone very pale. “My dad and Preston. My dad and Preston. Preston and…” His eyes suddenly lit up as colour came back to his face. “…not Harry. NOT Harry and Preston!”
“That’s right,” a nearby voice growled. “There was never any Harry and Preston. But there was Draco and strange men on the dance floor.”
As quickly as his colour had returned, it fled again, as Draco turned to see Harry glaring at him furiously.
Draco swallowed nervously. “Heh heh heh,” he said, fidgeting under Harry’s gaze.
“Draco,” Harry said warningly.
Draco squirmed. “I know, I know. I’ve been a very bad boy.”
“Very,” Harry said meaningfully. “Home. NOW.”
They disappeared.
“I knew the blonde was the sub,” the man in fishnets said smugly.
Jen and Ida exchanged a quick look.
“Telly.”
“Girls.”
“Blaise.”
“Popcorn.”
Then they hesitated.
“Any of you boys want to join us to watch those two get it on?”
There was a rousing cheer as everyone headed off for some quality television programming.
Edit: Oh yeah, baby. There's now a Part IX: Wedding Plans.
