Fic: Making New Memories
Jun. 30th, 2008 09:14 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
alisanneTitle: Making New Memories
Author:![[insanejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/ij-userinfo.gif)
alisanne
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy
Summary: Draco makes some new memories with Harry's help.
Word Count: 1500
Genre: Romance/Humor
Warnings: Pretty fluffy.
A/N: Okay so I kinda messed up on this one. I wrote this for what I thought was going to be the Hex Files June challenge. The inside info I had was that it was going to be Springtime in Paris, and it had to contain the words: baguette, beret, and the Eiffel Tower. It was also supposed to be 1500 words exactly. Unfortunately, I never checked to see if they actually put up the challenge and, well, they didn't. *giggles* Anyway, so here I have this fic, so I'm posting it. Since I also wrote it forhd_pots_n_porn's June prompt: cake, and I know that one is real, at least all is not lost, right? *g*
Beta:sevfan. Thanks also the Fiendfyre girls and to my darling chop and changers, who made this a lot more readable. *hugs them*
Disclaimer: The characters contained herein are not mine. No money is being made from this fiction, which is presented for entertainment purposes only.
~
Making New Memories
~
“Paris?” To a stranger Draco probably appeared calm, but to Harry it was obvious he was practically bouncing, and Harry struggled to hide his indulgent smile.
“You’ve been here before, haven’t you?” he said, Draco’s hand clasped in his as they strolled through the opulent lobby of their hotel. The Hotel George V had been the travel agent’s idea, and despite the exorbitant price, Harry had to admit that it’d been worth it to see the look on Draco’s face when they’d stepped out of the enormous white marble Floo.
The service was certainly impeccable. They had been immediately relieved of their shrunken luggage and assured that everything would be unpacked and waiting once they went upstairs.
“Yes. With my parents. We always stayed in this hotel,” Draco said, looking around. “Good choice.”
Pleased, Harry asked, “So what would you like to do?”
Draco licked his lips. “I’d like to show you my Paris.”
“Of course. I should have guessed you’d know Paris well.”
A slow grin spread over Draco’s face. “Actually, I was conceived of here,” he said, surprising Harry.
“You were what?” Harry sniggered. “I didn’t realize your family was so open about discussing such things.”
Draco rolled his eyes. “Mind out of the gutter. Conceived of. As in, my parents discussed what my name would be, et cetera.”
“I see.” Harry was still grinning.
“I knew I shouldn’t have told you that,” Draco grumbled. “Now you’ll be a prat...”
“I won’t.” Harry tucked some hair behind Draco’s ear. “I was just teasing, although we really can go somewhere else if this makes you uncomfortable--”
Draco’s hand tightened on Harry’s. “No. I love it here. I’ve both good and bad memories of Paris, though. The last time I was here...” He hesitated, but Harry waited patiently for the rest of the story. “The last time I was here, my parents were feuding and it was horrible. So, while they stayed in, got drunk, and argued, I went shopping. I got to know Paris quite well.”
“Rough time?”
Draco shrugged. “We’ll create new memories,” he said, a mischievous light entering his eyes.
Harry shivered at the note in Draco’s voice. “Maybe we should go upstairs now,” he suggested huskily, anticipating an evening spent between soft sheets, Draco’s legs wrapped around him. Heat spiralled through him as he imagined Draco riding him, the backdrop of Paris over his shoulder...
“Paris first,” Draco said, breaking Harry’s train of thought. “Allons.”
“What?” Harry glanced at the elevator that led up to the rooms. “But I thought...”
“First we’ll stop at this wonderful mercerie next door and then, lunch--”
Disappointed, Harry nevertheless acquiesced to the plan, and minutes later found himself watching Draco haggle with a diminutive vendeur for fabric that he said would be perfect for dress robes. Draco, he quickly remembered, was like a magpie, and as he flitted from sparkly thing to sparkly thing, Harry despaired of returning to their luxuriously outfitted suite before nightfall.
“That’s a wonderful pâtisserie!” Draco exclaimed, dragging Harry along behind him. “Maybe they still have the gâteau au chocolat I remember.”
“Cake?” Harry perked up. He did like cake, and if he couldn’t have Draco...
The cake was dense and delicious, and even though the musical chatter of lyrical French ebbing and flowing around them was distracting, the noises Draco made as he devoured his treat kept Harry’s attention firmly on him. Harry’s trousers were quite tight by the time they got up to leave, and, with a burst of inspiration, he walked over to the counter and whispered a request to the attendant while Draco wasn’t looking. His purchase shrunken and tucked into his robes, he collected Draco and they left, strolling arm in arm down the twisted streets.
Unlike London, wizarding and Muggle Paris coexisted side by side, with the full knowledge of all the denizens of the neighbourhood. The way Draco explained it, Parisians liked keeping secrets, and thought this a great way to flout governmental authority.
The rest of the spring afternoon passed pleasantly, and even the multitude of Parisians out for strolls didn’t bother Harry. He did try to dissuade Draco from purchasing a beret but Draco insisted, saying he had ideas for it. At least he’d compromised and purchased a blue one instead of the Slytherin green he’d originally chosen.
By tea time they were both famished, so they stopped and purchased a baguette, a bottle of wine, and some cheese from a tiny brasserie, and finding an empty park bench, they shared their meal, hand-feeding each other. By the end of the impromptu snack, Harry was too aroused to care about the venue and he leaned forward, nipping light kisses along Draco’s jaw and neck.
“Harry...”
Swiping his thumb over Draco’s lower lip, Harry silenced him and whispered, “Shhh. Just...let me,” before covering Draco’s mouth with his own.
Draco’s objections thus quashed, he responded eagerly, and it took a discreet cough from a passerby to remind them that they were practically devouring each other out in the open. Flushed, his pupils dilated with want, Draco took Harry’s hand and dragged him back to their hotel.
The elevator was empty, so when Draco shoved Harry against the wall to snog him, Harry returned the kiss, wrapping an arm around Draco and hauling him closer. Arching against him, Harry grabbed the nape of Draco’s neck with his other hand, his fingers spearing into soft hair as they ate at each other’s mouths.
“Room,” he whispered when Draco’s lips began wandering over his cheek and jaw in a meandering path to his neck.
Just then the elevator opened and Draco pulled Harry towards their suite, hands tugging at Harry’s robes to get to the body underneath.
Harry was busy, too, trying to slip his hands between Draco’s shirt and trousers, running his palms across the muscles of Draco’s back, so when a couple emerged from an adjoining room, it took a moment for their presence to register.
“Get a room,” the woman sniffed disapprovingly as they brushed past.
Harry and Draco looked at each other then burst into laughter. Fumbling for his wand, Draco opened their door and they tumbled in, still chuckling.
Before Harry could reach for him though, Draco spun away. “One minute,” he purred, his hand lingering on Harry’s face for a moment. Smiling, he sauntered into the bedroom and shut the door.
Exhaling in an effort to calm his raging libido, Harry wandered over to the window, eyes widening at the panoramic view. It was dusk, and the lights of the Eiffel Tower and the Arc de Triomphe glowed in the distance. A gentle spring breeze floated the curtain past his face, and he leaned his hip against the window ledge, inhaling the spring air.
“Ahem.”
Harry turned slowly, mouth falling open as his brain melted. Draco, wearing nothing but his blue beret and a feral smile, was slinking towards him. “As distracted as you were by the lights, I was beginning to wonder if I was competing with Paris for your affections,” he whispered.
Harry licked his lips. “We’re in Paris?” he asked.
“Good answer,” Draco said, silencing him with a voracious kiss that seemed to last forever and yet no time at all. Tongues sliding together sensually, arms wrapped around each other, they sank onto the brocade couch, hands caressing, lips moving over warm skin.
Harry shrugged out of his robes, and as he lay back and Draco straddled him, Draco pulled the beret off, tossing it aside. The resulting cascade of white-blond hair momentarily blinded Harry to everything but Draco’s glowing eyes and mischievous smile, and his expression made Harry’s breath catch.
“I fancy a ride,” Draco murmured huskily and a moment later had Harry’s prick poised at his arse.
“You’re not ready -- ohhh!”
“What did you think I was doing in there?” Draco asked roughly, eyes fluttering as he slowly impaled himself on Harry’s cock. “Didn’t want to waste any time.”
“No danger...of that,” Harry gasped. Words fled as their bodies found that most perfect of rhythms.
Harry didn’t last long, not with the way Draco rode him fiercely and clenched around him as if trying to absorb him. Harry growled, digging his fingers into Draco’s hips as he arched and came.
Once he, too, came, spurting between them, Draco collapsed, nibbling kisses across Harry’s cheek before curling up next to him.
“Oh!” Harry reached for his robes.
“What?”
“I brought us more cake,” Harry said.
“Mm, later,” Draco said, clasping Harry’s hand and bringing their entwined fingers back to their bodies.
“You think this is what your parents did while you were out exploring Paris?” Harry asked after a long moment.
Draco sucked in a breath. “If you ever hope to have sex with me again, you will never repeat that,” he muttered.
Harry sniggered. “Hey, they aren’t the only ones to conceive of something beautiful in Paris,” he whispered. And for once, Draco had no answer to that.
~
Author:
alisanneRating: NC-17
Pairing: Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy
Summary: Draco makes some new memories with Harry's help.
Word Count: 1500
Genre: Romance/Humor
Warnings: Pretty fluffy.
A/N: Okay so I kinda messed up on this one. I wrote this for what I thought was going to be the Hex Files June challenge. The inside info I had was that it was going to be Springtime in Paris, and it had to contain the words: baguette, beret, and the Eiffel Tower. It was also supposed to be 1500 words exactly. Unfortunately, I never checked to see if they actually put up the challenge and, well, they didn't. *giggles* Anyway, so here I have this fic, so I'm posting it. Since I also wrote it for
hd_pots_n_porn's June prompt: cake, and I know that one is real, at least all is not lost, right? *g*Beta:
sevfan. Thanks also the Fiendfyre girls and to my darling chop and changers, who made this a lot more readable. *hugs them*Disclaimer: The characters contained herein are not mine. No money is being made from this fiction, which is presented for entertainment purposes only.
~
Making New Memories
~
“Paris?” To a stranger Draco probably appeared calm, but to Harry it was obvious he was practically bouncing, and Harry struggled to hide his indulgent smile.
“You’ve been here before, haven’t you?” he said, Draco’s hand clasped in his as they strolled through the opulent lobby of their hotel. The Hotel George V had been the travel agent’s idea, and despite the exorbitant price, Harry had to admit that it’d been worth it to see the look on Draco’s face when they’d stepped out of the enormous white marble Floo.
The service was certainly impeccable. They had been immediately relieved of their shrunken luggage and assured that everything would be unpacked and waiting once they went upstairs.
“Yes. With my parents. We always stayed in this hotel,” Draco said, looking around. “Good choice.”
Pleased, Harry asked, “So what would you like to do?”
Draco licked his lips. “I’d like to show you my Paris.”
“Of course. I should have guessed you’d know Paris well.”
A slow grin spread over Draco’s face. “Actually, I was conceived of here,” he said, surprising Harry.
“You were what?” Harry sniggered. “I didn’t realize your family was so open about discussing such things.”
Draco rolled his eyes. “Mind out of the gutter. Conceived of. As in, my parents discussed what my name would be, et cetera.”
“I see.” Harry was still grinning.
“I knew I shouldn’t have told you that,” Draco grumbled. “Now you’ll be a prat...”
“I won’t.” Harry tucked some hair behind Draco’s ear. “I was just teasing, although we really can go somewhere else if this makes you uncomfortable--”
Draco’s hand tightened on Harry’s. “No. I love it here. I’ve both good and bad memories of Paris, though. The last time I was here...” He hesitated, but Harry waited patiently for the rest of the story. “The last time I was here, my parents were feuding and it was horrible. So, while they stayed in, got drunk, and argued, I went shopping. I got to know Paris quite well.”
“Rough time?”
Draco shrugged. “We’ll create new memories,” he said, a mischievous light entering his eyes.
Harry shivered at the note in Draco’s voice. “Maybe we should go upstairs now,” he suggested huskily, anticipating an evening spent between soft sheets, Draco’s legs wrapped around him. Heat spiralled through him as he imagined Draco riding him, the backdrop of Paris over his shoulder...
“Paris first,” Draco said, breaking Harry’s train of thought. “Allons.”
“What?” Harry glanced at the elevator that led up to the rooms. “But I thought...”
“First we’ll stop at this wonderful mercerie next door and then, lunch--”
Disappointed, Harry nevertheless acquiesced to the plan, and minutes later found himself watching Draco haggle with a diminutive vendeur for fabric that he said would be perfect for dress robes. Draco, he quickly remembered, was like a magpie, and as he flitted from sparkly thing to sparkly thing, Harry despaired of returning to their luxuriously outfitted suite before nightfall.
“That’s a wonderful pâtisserie!” Draco exclaimed, dragging Harry along behind him. “Maybe they still have the gâteau au chocolat I remember.”
“Cake?” Harry perked up. He did like cake, and if he couldn’t have Draco...
The cake was dense and delicious, and even though the musical chatter of lyrical French ebbing and flowing around them was distracting, the noises Draco made as he devoured his treat kept Harry’s attention firmly on him. Harry’s trousers were quite tight by the time they got up to leave, and, with a burst of inspiration, he walked over to the counter and whispered a request to the attendant while Draco wasn’t looking. His purchase shrunken and tucked into his robes, he collected Draco and they left, strolling arm in arm down the twisted streets.
Unlike London, wizarding and Muggle Paris coexisted side by side, with the full knowledge of all the denizens of the neighbourhood. The way Draco explained it, Parisians liked keeping secrets, and thought this a great way to flout governmental authority.
The rest of the spring afternoon passed pleasantly, and even the multitude of Parisians out for strolls didn’t bother Harry. He did try to dissuade Draco from purchasing a beret but Draco insisted, saying he had ideas for it. At least he’d compromised and purchased a blue one instead of the Slytherin green he’d originally chosen.
By tea time they were both famished, so they stopped and purchased a baguette, a bottle of wine, and some cheese from a tiny brasserie, and finding an empty park bench, they shared their meal, hand-feeding each other. By the end of the impromptu snack, Harry was too aroused to care about the venue and he leaned forward, nipping light kisses along Draco’s jaw and neck.
“Harry...”
Swiping his thumb over Draco’s lower lip, Harry silenced him and whispered, “Shhh. Just...let me,” before covering Draco’s mouth with his own.
Draco’s objections thus quashed, he responded eagerly, and it took a discreet cough from a passerby to remind them that they were practically devouring each other out in the open. Flushed, his pupils dilated with want, Draco took Harry’s hand and dragged him back to their hotel.
The elevator was empty, so when Draco shoved Harry against the wall to snog him, Harry returned the kiss, wrapping an arm around Draco and hauling him closer. Arching against him, Harry grabbed the nape of Draco’s neck with his other hand, his fingers spearing into soft hair as they ate at each other’s mouths.
“Room,” he whispered when Draco’s lips began wandering over his cheek and jaw in a meandering path to his neck.
Just then the elevator opened and Draco pulled Harry towards their suite, hands tugging at Harry’s robes to get to the body underneath.
Harry was busy, too, trying to slip his hands between Draco’s shirt and trousers, running his palms across the muscles of Draco’s back, so when a couple emerged from an adjoining room, it took a moment for their presence to register.
“Get a room,” the woman sniffed disapprovingly as they brushed past.
Harry and Draco looked at each other then burst into laughter. Fumbling for his wand, Draco opened their door and they tumbled in, still chuckling.
Before Harry could reach for him though, Draco spun away. “One minute,” he purred, his hand lingering on Harry’s face for a moment. Smiling, he sauntered into the bedroom and shut the door.
Exhaling in an effort to calm his raging libido, Harry wandered over to the window, eyes widening at the panoramic view. It was dusk, and the lights of the Eiffel Tower and the Arc de Triomphe glowed in the distance. A gentle spring breeze floated the curtain past his face, and he leaned his hip against the window ledge, inhaling the spring air.
“Ahem.”
Harry turned slowly, mouth falling open as his brain melted. Draco, wearing nothing but his blue beret and a feral smile, was slinking towards him. “As distracted as you were by the lights, I was beginning to wonder if I was competing with Paris for your affections,” he whispered.
Harry licked his lips. “We’re in Paris?” he asked.
“Good answer,” Draco said, silencing him with a voracious kiss that seemed to last forever and yet no time at all. Tongues sliding together sensually, arms wrapped around each other, they sank onto the brocade couch, hands caressing, lips moving over warm skin.
Harry shrugged out of his robes, and as he lay back and Draco straddled him, Draco pulled the beret off, tossing it aside. The resulting cascade of white-blond hair momentarily blinded Harry to everything but Draco’s glowing eyes and mischievous smile, and his expression made Harry’s breath catch.
“I fancy a ride,” Draco murmured huskily and a moment later had Harry’s prick poised at his arse.
“You’re not ready -- ohhh!”
“What did you think I was doing in there?” Draco asked roughly, eyes fluttering as he slowly impaled himself on Harry’s cock. “Didn’t want to waste any time.”
“No danger...of that,” Harry gasped. Words fled as their bodies found that most perfect of rhythms.
Harry didn’t last long, not with the way Draco rode him fiercely and clenched around him as if trying to absorb him. Harry growled, digging his fingers into Draco’s hips as he arched and came.
Once he, too, came, spurting between them, Draco collapsed, nibbling kisses across Harry’s cheek before curling up next to him.
“Oh!” Harry reached for his robes.
“What?”
“I brought us more cake,” Harry said.
“Mm, later,” Draco said, clasping Harry’s hand and bringing their entwined fingers back to their bodies.
“You think this is what your parents did while you were out exploring Paris?” Harry asked after a long moment.
Draco sucked in a breath. “If you ever hope to have sex with me again, you will never repeat that,” he muttered.
Harry sniggered. “Hey, they aren’t the only ones to conceive of something beautiful in Paris,” he whispered. And for once, Draco had no answer to that.
~
