"Aftermath" - H/D ficlet
Finally here is the third and final part of my Euro 2004 football series. Sorry it’s taken a few days but I’m feeling under the weather and not getting much done at the moment.
So, I present Aftermath ... Possibly R, but maybe only PG13 ... Definitely not PWP ... Fluff ... H/D ... The boys return home after the Portugal v England match.
Thanks to golden_snitch12 for her wonderful quick beta and kind words. If there are any mistakes, they are mine.
The other two stories can be found here:
Part 1: Post-Match Analysis
Part 2: The Swing
Aftermath, Post-Match Analysis and The Swing all take place in the Resolution universe, but they are only one possible version of the future of the boys.
Location: A house somewhere in the South of England. I can’t tell you where exactly because it is unplottable thanks to anti-location spells.
The time: The early hours of Friday 25th June 2004. The aftermath of the Portugal v England football match.
**************
Aftermath
The grandfather clock in the corner softly played one chime as Draco padded across the lounge. Pausing beside the clock he glancing at the hands -- 1a.m. -- he and Harry had been back home for thirty minutes. He waved his wand at it, and watched as the key in the clock movement turned, winding the clock up. Stepping on to the first stair, he pointed his wand at the single candle still lighting the lounge. “Nox.” The little flame fluttered briefly before snuffing itself out. Then, tucking the wand into his belt, he paused briefly to pet the cat sitting on the stairs and continued upwards towards the soft glow from the main bedroom.
That room was empty and he continued up the narrow staircase to the little attic bedroom with its large skylight and equally large bed. It was actually the spare room, used for guests, but there was something about the space under the eaves of house that always drew both himself and Harry when they were emotional or sad or ill or just needed a respite from the trials of the day.
He paused at the entrance to the room, letting his eyes adjust to the candlelight. A second cat and a large lump, which he knew was Harry hidden beneath the covers, occupied the bed. “Still awake?”
The lump muttered something inaudible and a hand appeared, pulling at the edge of the sheet.
“I’ve made you hot chocolate.” Draco stepped to the side of the bed and placed the steaming mug on the bedside table.
“It’s summer.” The voice was sad ... pouting.
Pulling back the covers, Draco climbed into the bed. Sitting up, he rested back against the headboard. “Since when did that make any difference?” He pushed a hand under the covers, teasing at Harry’s hair. “Can I tempt you?” The cat stretched out along the foot of the bed, dark eyes watching Draco as it yawned and settled back to sleep again.
For several minutes the room was still, the only sound that of the two men breathing. When Harry finally emerged from his cocoon, his black hair was even messier than normal and the sheet wrapped around his head like a shawl. “Does it have cream?”
Draco nodded. “And chocolate sprinkles.” He leaned forward, kissing Harry softly. “Just the way you like it.”
“We lost.”
“I know.”
“It wasn’t fair ... that second goal was a good one ... the Swiss referee doesn’t know what he was talking about.” Harry pushed the sheet back. “We should be through to the next round instead of coming home.”
“Do you want this?” Draco gestured at the mug.
Harry huffed, almost petulantly. “Okay, as you made it.” He pulled himself up, sitting beside Draco and reached for the mug, cradling it in both hand as he sipped at the hot liquid. “Mmmm, is there brandy in it?”
“Just a little.” He snuggled closer to Harry, shoulders touching.
“You must think we were all stupid, getting so upset like that.”
Draco shrugged, trying hard not to smile. “No. Remember I lived through the World Cup Despair and the Southampton Losing the FA Cup Calamity.” He put his arm around Harry’s shoulders. “So I guess I can cope with this now.”
“You didn’t get your sex.”
“And I can cope with that as well. But I will expect payment at some point.”
Harry finally managed a smile. “I don’t doubt that. Want some?” He held the mug out to his lover.
“You know, Harry, it is only a game.” Draco curled his hand around the mug, fingertips stroking at Harry’s fingers as he took a sip.
“Yeah ... just like Quidditch is only a game. Who was in a strop for days when his team lost last year?”
“Quidditch isn’t a game,” Draco straightened, knowing that the smile in Harry’s green eyes was mirrored in his own. “It’s a way of life ... and just what are you grinning at, Potter?”
“You....” Harry pointed a finger towards Draco’s face. “You’ve got a milk moustache.” Draco’s hand went automatically to his upper lip, but the movement was quickly halted. “No, let me.” With that, Harry put his mug down and reached a hand to the back of Draco’s head. He pulled Draco towards him and licked away the creamy residue.
Draco sighed into the touch, his own hand matching Harry’s as he pushed into the black silky hair. When Harry’s tongue brushed over his lips, he opened his mouth and gently sucked it inside letting it touch his own with a familiar pressure. They finally pulled apart and almost without thinking snuggled down under the covers. “I got you a present. It was for your birthday, but maybe it’ll cheer you up.”
Green eyes smiled at him. “A present?” There was a sudden surge of animation in the man, as he looked excitedly at Draco.
“God, Harry, you are such a kid still.” Draco messed at Harry’s untidy hair and reached for the other item he’d bought up from the lounge. Harry took it, quickly opening the envelope. “It’s a season ticket for Southampton. Now you can go to as many matches as you want.”
Harry’s face lit up. “And you won’t complain?”
Draco glared at him. “Now, I didn’t say that, did I? You can expect me to complain every time you go and demand something in return to cheer me up when you get back.”
Harry quickly pulled Draco towards him. “Thank you.”
“Feeling better?”
“I guess. Though don’t ever buy me Swiss chocolate again.”
“Okay, I’ll eat that myself.” Draco ran his hand lightly up the outside of Harry’s thigh, stopping to hold his hip. “Tired?”
“A bit.”
“Me too.” He snuggled closer, his hand sliding across warm skin to rest on the small of Harry’s back. He could feel Harry’s breath on his own skin, the sensation sending a shiver down his spine.
“We can, you know, make love if you want.”
“I’d like that ... if you want to.”
“Mmmm, I’d just like to be here with you doing that for a while. Touching me.”
“This?” Draco’s fingers made little circles over Harry’s arse, letting them dip into the cleft to feather over his entrance and than back out again.
“Yes, that.”
“And what about this?” He reached forward, trailing his tongue over the hollow at the base of Harry’s throat.”
“That as well....”
“And if I touch you here....” Draco’s mouth fitted over Harry’s nipple, applying a gentle pressure.
“Oh yes ... that too....”
“And if I hold you here....” Draco’s hand closed around Harry’s hardening erection.
“God, I love you, Draco.”
“And I love you too, Harry.”
At the foot of the bed, the cat stretched again and yawned. It came to its feet, jumped gracefully from the bed and padded towards the door. Outside the night breeze plucked at the swing as it rustled through the oak tree, sending it back and forth in a rhythm matching the whispered sighs and movements of the two men inside.
~~~Fin
25th June 2004
So, I present Aftermath ... Possibly R, but maybe only PG13 ... Definitely not PWP ... Fluff ... H/D ... The boys return home after the Portugal v England match.
Thanks to golden_snitch12 for her wonderful quick beta and kind words. If there are any mistakes, they are mine.
The other two stories can be found here:
Part 1: Post-Match Analysis
Part 2: The Swing
Aftermath, Post-Match Analysis and The Swing all take place in the Resolution universe, but they are only one possible version of the future of the boys.
Location: A house somewhere in the South of England. I can’t tell you where exactly because it is unplottable thanks to anti-location spells.
The time: The early hours of Friday 25th June 2004. The aftermath of the Portugal v England football match.
**************
Aftermath
The grandfather clock in the corner softly played one chime as Draco padded across the lounge. Pausing beside the clock he glancing at the hands -- 1a.m. -- he and Harry had been back home for thirty minutes. He waved his wand at it, and watched as the key in the clock movement turned, winding the clock up. Stepping on to the first stair, he pointed his wand at the single candle still lighting the lounge. “Nox.” The little flame fluttered briefly before snuffing itself out. Then, tucking the wand into his belt, he paused briefly to pet the cat sitting on the stairs and continued upwards towards the soft glow from the main bedroom.
That room was empty and he continued up the narrow staircase to the little attic bedroom with its large skylight and equally large bed. It was actually the spare room, used for guests, but there was something about the space under the eaves of house that always drew both himself and Harry when they were emotional or sad or ill or just needed a respite from the trials of the day.
He paused at the entrance to the room, letting his eyes adjust to the candlelight. A second cat and a large lump, which he knew was Harry hidden beneath the covers, occupied the bed. “Still awake?”
The lump muttered something inaudible and a hand appeared, pulling at the edge of the sheet.
“I’ve made you hot chocolate.” Draco stepped to the side of the bed and placed the steaming mug on the bedside table.
“It’s summer.” The voice was sad ... pouting.
Pulling back the covers, Draco climbed into the bed. Sitting up, he rested back against the headboard. “Since when did that make any difference?” He pushed a hand under the covers, teasing at Harry’s hair. “Can I tempt you?” The cat stretched out along the foot of the bed, dark eyes watching Draco as it yawned and settled back to sleep again.
For several minutes the room was still, the only sound that of the two men breathing. When Harry finally emerged from his cocoon, his black hair was even messier than normal and the sheet wrapped around his head like a shawl. “Does it have cream?”
Draco nodded. “And chocolate sprinkles.” He leaned forward, kissing Harry softly. “Just the way you like it.”
“We lost.”
“I know.”
“It wasn’t fair ... that second goal was a good one ... the Swiss referee doesn’t know what he was talking about.” Harry pushed the sheet back. “We should be through to the next round instead of coming home.”
“Do you want this?” Draco gestured at the mug.
Harry huffed, almost petulantly. “Okay, as you made it.” He pulled himself up, sitting beside Draco and reached for the mug, cradling it in both hand as he sipped at the hot liquid. “Mmmm, is there brandy in it?”
“Just a little.” He snuggled closer to Harry, shoulders touching.
“You must think we were all stupid, getting so upset like that.”
Draco shrugged, trying hard not to smile. “No. Remember I lived through the World Cup Despair and the Southampton Losing the FA Cup Calamity.” He put his arm around Harry’s shoulders. “So I guess I can cope with this now.”
“You didn’t get your sex.”
“And I can cope with that as well. But I will expect payment at some point.”
Harry finally managed a smile. “I don’t doubt that. Want some?” He held the mug out to his lover.
“You know, Harry, it is only a game.” Draco curled his hand around the mug, fingertips stroking at Harry’s fingers as he took a sip.
“Yeah ... just like Quidditch is only a game. Who was in a strop for days when his team lost last year?”
“Quidditch isn’t a game,” Draco straightened, knowing that the smile in Harry’s green eyes was mirrored in his own. “It’s a way of life ... and just what are you grinning at, Potter?”
“You....” Harry pointed a finger towards Draco’s face. “You’ve got a milk moustache.” Draco’s hand went automatically to his upper lip, but the movement was quickly halted. “No, let me.” With that, Harry put his mug down and reached a hand to the back of Draco’s head. He pulled Draco towards him and licked away the creamy residue.
Draco sighed into the touch, his own hand matching Harry’s as he pushed into the black silky hair. When Harry’s tongue brushed over his lips, he opened his mouth and gently sucked it inside letting it touch his own with a familiar pressure. They finally pulled apart and almost without thinking snuggled down under the covers. “I got you a present. It was for your birthday, but maybe it’ll cheer you up.”
Green eyes smiled at him. “A present?” There was a sudden surge of animation in the man, as he looked excitedly at Draco.
“God, Harry, you are such a kid still.” Draco messed at Harry’s untidy hair and reached for the other item he’d bought up from the lounge. Harry took it, quickly opening the envelope. “It’s a season ticket for Southampton. Now you can go to as many matches as you want.”
Harry’s face lit up. “And you won’t complain?”
Draco glared at him. “Now, I didn’t say that, did I? You can expect me to complain every time you go and demand something in return to cheer me up when you get back.”
Harry quickly pulled Draco towards him. “Thank you.”
“Feeling better?”
“I guess. Though don’t ever buy me Swiss chocolate again.”
“Okay, I’ll eat that myself.” Draco ran his hand lightly up the outside of Harry’s thigh, stopping to hold his hip. “Tired?”
“A bit.”
“Me too.” He snuggled closer, his hand sliding across warm skin to rest on the small of Harry’s back. He could feel Harry’s breath on his own skin, the sensation sending a shiver down his spine.
“We can, you know, make love if you want.”
“I’d like that ... if you want to.”
“Mmmm, I’d just like to be here with you doing that for a while. Touching me.”
“This?” Draco’s fingers made little circles over Harry’s arse, letting them dip into the cleft to feather over his entrance and than back out again.
“Yes, that.”
“And what about this?” He reached forward, trailing his tongue over the hollow at the base of Harry’s throat.”
“That as well....”
“And if I touch you here....” Draco’s mouth fitted over Harry’s nipple, applying a gentle pressure.
“Oh yes ... that too....”
“And if I hold you here....” Draco’s hand closed around Harry’s hardening erection.
“God, I love you, Draco.”
“And I love you too, Harry.”
At the foot of the bed, the cat stretched again and yawned. It came to its feet, jumped gracefully from the bed and padded towards the door. Outside the night breeze plucked at the swing as it rustled through the oak tree, sending it back and forth in a rhythm matching the whispered sighs and movements of the two men inside.
~~~Fin
25th June 2004