alisanne

Title: Of Cocks and Tails
Author:

alisanne
Pairing/Characters: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter.
Word Count: 100 x 8
Rating: NC-17
Challenge: Written for

draco100/

draco100's prompt 25: Cocktails.
Warning(s)/Genre: none.
Beta(s):

sevfan and

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

~

Of Cocks and Tails

~

“Good job out there,” said Robards, an uncharacteristic smile on his face. “You’re all a credit to the Auror corps. You’ve tonight and tomorrow off.”

A cheer went through the gathered Aurors.

Draco, too tired to cheer, just smiled. After working day and night to catch a particularly nasty potion smuggler who’d been inundating the Wizarding world with poison, an evening off was welcome.

“Who’s for the pub?” cried Weasley once Robards was gone.

A drink sounded good, but under no illusions he was invited, Draco ignored the resultant conversation.

That is until Potter said, “Malfoy? You up for cocktails?”

~

Draco blinked. “What?”

Potter smirked. “Cock. Tails. You know, drinks?” he said with exaggerated slowness.

Draco almost said what the words ‘cock’ and ‘tail’ really made him think about, but decided perhaps that would be a bit too revealing of his…proclivities. “I know what it means,” he said. “I’m just surprised you’re inviting me.”

“You’re not the only one,” muttered Weasley, who shut up when Potter sent him a look.

Draco raised an eyebrow. “I suppose that could be…amusing.”

“Brilliant,” said Potter. “Come on, then. Let’s go before Robards changes his mind and give us all another case!”

~

“You lot come here often,” said Draco.

Potter grinned. “What gave it away?”

Draco snorted. The moment they’d walked in, the bartender started pouring drinks. In fact, as far as Draco could tell, he’d been the only one who’d needed to place a cocktail order. “Slytherin intuition.”

Potter laughed out loud. “You know, you’re funnier than I remember.”

“So are you.” Draco shrugged. “In our defence, we always seemed to hex first and talk later.”

“Talk? Us?” Potter shook his head and nodded at the bartender for a refill.

“You’re right,” said Draco. “Talking was never our strong suit.”

“Fair point.” Potter pursed his lips. “So, let’s talk now.”

~

They chatted all evening, Potter waving Weasley away when he’d hover.

Finally, after Potter shooed him away a fifth time, Draco huffed, “Is he afraid I’m going to hex you and leave you for dead?”

Potter hummed. “Should he be?”

Draco smirked. “As if I’d be so obvious? I’d never do that in public.”

“Does that mean I should be careful if we decide to continue having cocktails together someplace…private?”

Draco blinked. He’d thought Potter was flirting, but hadn’t been sure. “Are we?”

“Are we what?”

“Having private cocktails.”

Slowly, Potter smiled. “I’m up for it if you are.”

~

Draco watched from across the pub as Potter told Weasley goodnight. Weasley, looking unhappy, nodded. The glare he sent Draco’s way said, “Hurt him and you’re dead.”

Inclining his head in acknowledgment, Draco waited until Potter’s return to ask, “Did he give his blessing?”

Rolling his eyes, Potter clasped Draco’s arm. “Let’s go.”

“I haven’t finished my cocktail,” Draco protested as Potter steered him towards the door.

“We’re going for private cocktails, remember?”

Draco snorted. “No we’re not.”

Potter smiled faintly. “We’re not?”

“We’re going to fuck, and you know it.”

Potter hummed. “I’m just glad you know it, too.”

~

Upon landing in Potter’s flat, Potter shoved Draco against the wall, devouring his mouth. Frantically undressing, they fell onto the bed. Potter straddled Draco, looking his fill.

“Like what you see?” Draco asked, unnerved by Potter’s intense expression.

“You must know you’re fucking gorgeous.”

Something fluttered in Draco’s stomach. “Must I?”

Potter growled, swooping down. The kiss, while no less frantic than before, had a slower, more sensual quality that made Draco’s head spin.

“I may’ve had too many cocktails,” he whispered as Potter kissed down his chest.

Potter hummed. “Intoxicating you, am I?”

Draco simply moaned and arched closer.

~

Potter wasn’t gentle, but he wasn’t rough either. He was, in fact, perfect, leaving Draco whimpering after preparing him with oiled fingers.

Holding Draco open, Potter pressed inside, his thick cock stretching him until he was fully buried. Then he proceeded to take Draco apart with slow, riding strokes that lit Draco up like nothing had before.

When Potter began fucking him in earnest, Draco sobbed, fisting the bedding and writhing, wordlessly begging for more.

When he came, Draco screamed.

Potter, who came soon after, collapsed atop him. “Okay?” he murmured.

Draco hummed. “That was way better than any cocktail.”

~

Draco woke to an unfamiliar room, with Potter’s warm body spooning him. He yawned, and Potter’s embrace tightened. “’Morning,” Potter murmured, voice gravelly.

“Mm.” Shifting, Draco turned to face Potter. “So, are there actually cocktails here, or was that false advertising?”

Potter smiled. “I’ve Firewhisky, Elf wine, ale, and even some Butterbeer.”

“Do I look like I’m twelve?” Draco snorted.

“Definitely not.” Potter sobered. “I can make you cocktail, or I can make you…breakfast.”

Draco smirked, sliding his thigh between Potter’s legs so their erections pressed together. “How about both? After.”

Relaxing, Potter laughed. “I knew you’d be demanding.”

~