(no subject)
Apr. 3rd, 2005 12:52 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
notworthyuntitled (or how drinking can be bad for you)
harry potter, harry/draco, pg
for my darling![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
getaway_machine. erm, i hope this is okay.
The bar is almost empty when Harry walks into it, sans the bartender and a few scattered customers. Usually, he would have been worried about it –paranoid, he corrects himself, but with good reason. Now, he’s too tired to even care, and instead of ignoring the blonde at the counter, he sits right next to him.
“Potter,” Malfoy greets him, not bothering to look up from his drink.
“How did you know it was me?” Harry asks, even though there are other things that he wants to ask. What he was doing here, in a muggle bar of all places. How he found a bar among the country side, and not in town. Where the hell had he been?
“Oh Potter, don’t you know?” Malfoy’s voice was a breathy mock of Ginny, and Harry hates him for it. He remembers Ginny- neck twisted at an angle, eyes blank. Malfoy doesn’t know what he’s lost –he hasn’t lost- “If I was blind I would still see you.”
“Fuck you Malfoy,” Harry snaps, and takes out the flask he’s been carrying around lately, and is thankful that he’s filled it with firewhiskey. He steals a glance at whatever Malfoy’s drinking, and rolls his eyes. “I didn’t think you were a orange juice type of man Malfoy.”
Malfoy gives him a look that clearly says ‘have you lost your mind?’ “It’s pumpkin juice,” he replies, and Harry has to laugh.
He must be drunk already.
:::
An hour later, he concludes that no, he was not drunk earlier. Right now, he’s so gone that his hands are shaking, and his head has officially made friends with the counter.
“So. Is this your plan? Get me so drunk that I can’t fight you anyway, and you drag me off to Voldemort’s lair?” he asks, turning his head to look in Malfoy’s general direction.
“What makes you think he has a lair?” Malfoy replies easily, and takes a sip of his screwdriver. Harry’s pretty sure there’s a joke to be made there, but Malfoy has proved to be nothing expect apathetic tonight, so he’s not going to bother.
Besides, he’s not sure which one to make.
“You didn’t answer the question,” Harry says needlessly, because he knows the answer.
“I’m sorry,” Malfoy offers, and Harry just closes his eyes. Malfoy’s lips are warm against his own, and he has to allow himself a small smile.
If it wasn’t a part of the plan, it was now.
harry potter, harry/draco, pg
for my darling
getaway_machine. erm, i hope this is okay.The bar is almost empty when Harry walks into it, sans the bartender and a few scattered customers. Usually, he would have been worried about it –paranoid, he corrects himself, but with good reason. Now, he’s too tired to even care, and instead of ignoring the blonde at the counter, he sits right next to him.
“Potter,” Malfoy greets him, not bothering to look up from his drink.
“How did you know it was me?” Harry asks, even though there are other things that he wants to ask. What he was doing here, in a muggle bar of all places. How he found a bar among the country side, and not in town. Where the hell had he been?
“Oh Potter, don’t you know?” Malfoy’s voice was a breathy mock of Ginny, and Harry hates him for it. He remembers Ginny- neck twisted at an angle, eyes blank. Malfoy doesn’t know what he’s lost –he hasn’t lost- “If I was blind I would still see you.”
“Fuck you Malfoy,” Harry snaps, and takes out the flask he’s been carrying around lately, and is thankful that he’s filled it with firewhiskey. He steals a glance at whatever Malfoy’s drinking, and rolls his eyes. “I didn’t think you were a orange juice type of man Malfoy.”
Malfoy gives him a look that clearly says ‘have you lost your mind?’ “It’s pumpkin juice,” he replies, and Harry has to laugh.
He must be drunk already.
:::
An hour later, he concludes that no, he was not drunk earlier. Right now, he’s so gone that his hands are shaking, and his head has officially made friends with the counter.
“So. Is this your plan? Get me so drunk that I can’t fight you anyway, and you drag me off to Voldemort’s lair?” he asks, turning his head to look in Malfoy’s general direction.
“What makes you think he has a lair?” Malfoy replies easily, and takes a sip of his screwdriver. Harry’s pretty sure there’s a joke to be made there, but Malfoy has proved to be nothing expect apathetic tonight, so he’s not going to bother.
Besides, he’s not sure which one to make.
“You didn’t answer the question,” Harry says needlessly, because he knows the answer.
“I’m sorry,” Malfoy offers, and Harry just closes his eyes. Malfoy’s lips are warm against his own, and he has to allow himself a small smile.
If it wasn’t a part of the plan, it was now.
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no subject
Date: 2005-04-03 10:31 am (UTC)This is why I always ask you for H/D. You really do write it better than most of the fandom. ::hugs you:: Thank you sooo much, I love this! XD
::more coherent review later, probably::
no subject
Date: 2005-04-03 10:03 pm (UTC)I'm not sure how I feel on this though- part of me really likes it, and the rest just wants to mess with it until it's better.