alisanne

Title: Planned Retirement
Author:

alisanne
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy
Summary: Draco lays down the law.
Word Count: 575
Genre: mild angst, romance.
Warnings: Mild angst.
A/N: Written for my dearest

sevfan's birthday today! Happy Birthday, sweetie! Her prompt: Over the Hill.
Beta:

emynn
Disclaimer: The characters contained herein are not mine. No money is being made from this fiction, which is presented for entertainment purposes only.

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Planned Retirement

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“You are an idiot,” muttered Draco.

Harry, face pressed into his pillow, moaned as Draco’s skilled Healer’s hands massaged the knots out of his overstrained muscles. “Why, because I did that Wronski Feint? It was the only way I could catch the Snitch. How was I supposed to know that the other Seeker was flying below me--”

“The Wronski’s hard enough for people half your age.” Draco’s thumbs pressed deep into the centre of Harry’s back, making him wince. “If you hadn’t managed to stop your fall--”

“But I did.”

“But you might not have,” Draco growled. “How long have we been together, Potter?”

Harry sighed. When Draco called him that it meant he was serious. “You know how long we’ve been together.”

“Humour me, because I sometimes think you’ve forgotten.”

“Draco--”

“Fifteen years, Potter. We’ve been together for fifteen years. And before that we fucked on and off for another two.” Harry tried to sit up but Draco pressed him down into the mattress. “No, you listen to me. In those fifteen years, how many close calls have you had because you chose to play professional Quidditch?”

Harry closed his eyes. “Too many.”

“Exactly.” Draco’s hands stopped moving and he leaned down, moulding his bare chest to Harry’s back as he spoke softly into his ear. “When is it going to stop?” he whispered. “Do you know that I dread hearing the Floo open whenever you’re playing? Every time I get an owl at work I think it’s a notification that you’ve been injured, or worse. Don’t you think it’s enough?”

“I’m planning to retire.”

“When?” Draco rested his forehead against the nape of Harry’s neck. “The day you don’t complete your next Wronski? That may be too late. You’re too old for this, Harry.”

Harry bit his lip, knowing Draco was right. “Are you calling me over the hill?” he said, trying for a teasing tone.

“I am calling you an idiot who takes too many chances with your life. And before you take insult, I also think I’m too old for this shit.”

Harry shifted suddenly and, managing to take Draco by surprise, rolled over, ending up trapping Draco beneath him. He stared into his eyes. “First, neither of us are too old for anything,” he said. “Although I will acknowledge that Quidditch is a younger man’s sport.”

Draco glared up at him. “Harry--”

“Shush, I’m talking now.” Harry hummed when Draco obeyed. “And yes, I am planning to retire. In fact, I submitted my retirement papers last week.”

Draco’s eyes widened. “And just when were you planning to tell me that?”

“Tonight. After the game. The manager asked me not to tell anyone until he could make the announcement,” Harry said, doing his best to sound sincere.

Draco searched his eyes for a moment before relaxing. “About fucking time.”

Harry smiled. “So, now that I’m out of a job, does this mean you’re ready to support me?”

Draco snorted. “Fuck, no.” Smirking, he looped his arms around Harry’s neck. “But I will let you fuck me.”

“But I fell off a broom tonight,” Harry protested. “Shouldn’t you be doing the work?”

“So demanding,” Draco huffed, rolling Harry onto his back. Slowly, he smirked. “But since you’re the one retiring, I suppose I should, old man.”

“You’re older than me!”

Draco hummed, kissing his way down Harry’s neck. “Some of us age better than others.”

~