Fic: Strangers in the Night Club for mld13
Title: Strangers in the Night Club
Author/Artist: enchanted_jae
Giftee: mld13
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1060
Characters/Pairing: Harry/Draco
Warnings: Mentions of slash
Disclaimer: Characters are the property of JK Rowling, et al. This drabble/fic was written for fun, not for profit.
Author/Artist's Notes: My contribution to the hpslashnotsmut fic and art gift exchange, written for mld13, who requested H/D, post-Hogwarts, established relationship, a little angst, with a happy ending. I also took the liberty of checking out your user info, and learned you like jazz, so I "jazzed" it up a bit!
Summary: After an argument earlier in the day, will talking that evening make things better? Perhaps...if you're talking to a stranger you've just met in a club.
Draco sat alone in Ronny Scott's jazz club, the red light at his table gleaming oddly in his pale blond hair. He was nursing a scotch and a sulk, and not necessarily in that order.
He and Harry had argued again that afternoon about something completely inconsequential, but it was the ever increasing frequency of the arguments that had Draco sitting in somber solitude. In his current mood, he was not really enjoying the excellent music of the trio onstage. With a rueful smile, he recalled that it was Harry who had first gotten him interested in jazz. Draco had been raised to appreciate classical music, and he had been unprepared for the wide variety of music that his housemates had listened to at Hogwarts. He had never developed a liking for pop music, but jazz...jazz, he liked.
Draco finished his scotch and signaled for another, wondering what he could do to salvage his relationship with Harry.
~*~
Harry felt like ducking his head as he made his way through the jazz club. He loved Ronny Scott's, but the low ceilings always made him feel somewhat claustrophobic. He had a hunch he would find Draco here. After all, this is where he, himself had come to lick his wounds nearly two months ago when they'd had a spectacular row. Harry finally spotted his wayward lover at a table near the back, and he felt his shoulders relax. He hadn't even realized how tense he was. His back stiffened again, however, as he observed another bloke approach Draco, offering a drink and a smile. Another wave of relief surged through him when he saw Draco frown at the other man and shake his head. The interloper shrugged and walked away, and Harry moved quickly through the crowd. He arrived at Draco's table and slid into the opposite seat, saying, "Can I buy you a drink?"
Draco studied Harry for a long moment, then indicated his fresh Scotch. "I'm good for now," he replied quietly.
"So," drawled Harry, "what's a nice guy like you doing in a place like this?"
Draco ducked his head to hide his smile, saved from having to answer right away by the arrival of someone to take Harry's drink order. By the time the waitress had left, Draco had schooled his features into a mask of impassivity. He leaned back in his chair and stated, "I argued with my lover earlier, and I decided we needed some time apart to cool down."
"Yeah?" said Harry, sitting up straighter. "He must be a right prat to have upset you so."
"He can be," deadpanned Draco, looking Harry directly in the eye. His lover winced slightly, and Draco hastened to add, "But it's not entirely his fault. I'm partially to blame, as well." He dropped his eyes then and played idly with his glass, rotating it between his palms.
Harry's butterbeer arrived, and he took a long draw from the bottle before speaking again. "If you were mine," he began, "I would never want to see you unhappy. I would do anything in my power to please you, and I would apologize for my stupidity if I ever caused you any grief."
Harry's voice rang with sincerity, and Draco took a quick sip of his Scotch, finding it hard to swallow past the lump in his throat. Regaining his composure, he glanced up through his fringe and remarked, "You sound like a decent bloke." He paused a beat before asking as nonchalantly as possible, "Are you single?"
Harry grinned at him before responding, "Alas, I am currently in a committed relationship with a stunningly handsome, albeit snarky, blond git."
"Snarky, you say?" queried Draco, one eyebrow cocked in an almost challenging manner.
Harry nodded solemnly. "Extremely snarky," he intoned, "but I like that about him. He keeps me on my toes and makes life interesting."
"Fascinating," remarked Draco. "And you say he's stunningly handsome, as well?"
Harry just barely refrained from rolling his eyes. Leave it to Draco to fish for compliments so shamelessly. "Quite stunning," Harry affirmed. "In fact, as snarky blonds go, he's probably the most gorgeous one I've seen."
A pleased smile curled Draco's lips, and he couldn't resist asking, "What other attributes does your stunningly gorgeous, snarky blond lover possess?"
Harry didn't bother to point out that Draco had chosen to place stunningly gorgeous ahead of snarky when describing the phantom blond. Instead, he rubbed his chin as if giving the matter some serious thought. "Well, he's intelligent and quick witted," he pointed out. "And he's great with Potions, which means he's a wonder in the kitchen, as well." Draco was smirking by this point, and Harry couldn't resist adding, "Oh, and he's extremely modest, too."
Draco glowered at him before adopting a sly expression and asking, "So he's good in the kitchen, eh? How is he in the bedroom?"
Harry couldn't help but laugh out loud at that. He had forgotten to add sneaky to Draco's list of traits. "Let's just say I'm very satisfied in the bedroom, and I daresay I make sure he is, too."
Draco smiled softly before he sighed and said, "He sounds very lucky to have you." He dropped his eyes again and fiddled with his glass once more.
"No, I'm the lucky one," Harry countered, the truth of it slamming home as he spoke the words. He was so incredibly lucky to have this snarky, sneaky, stunning blond in his life, and it scared him to think of how empty his life would be without Draco in it.
Harry finished off the rest of his butterbeer and placed some pound notes on the table. Rising to his feet, he extended his hand to Draco. "Come on," he said, "I'll walk you home."
Draco took Harry's hand without hesitation and allowed himself to be drawn from his seat. "Won't your stunningly gorgeous blond boyfriend be upset?" he teased.
Harry placed a protective hand at the small of Draco's back and used it to steer him through the crowd. He leaned close long enough to whisper in Draco's ear, "Somehow, I don't think he'll mind."
Be sure to leave your feedback at the author's journal here.
Author/Artist: enchanted_jae
Giftee: mld13
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1060
Characters/Pairing: Harry/Draco
Warnings: Mentions of slash
Disclaimer: Characters are the property of JK Rowling, et al. This drabble/fic was written for fun, not for profit.
Author/Artist's Notes: My contribution to the hpslashnotsmut fic and art gift exchange, written for mld13, who requested H/D, post-Hogwarts, established relationship, a little angst, with a happy ending. I also took the liberty of checking out your user info, and learned you like jazz, so I "jazzed" it up a bit!
Summary: After an argument earlier in the day, will talking that evening make things better? Perhaps...if you're talking to a stranger you've just met in a club.
Draco sat alone in Ronny Scott's jazz club, the red light at his table gleaming oddly in his pale blond hair. He was nursing a scotch and a sulk, and not necessarily in that order.
He and Harry had argued again that afternoon about something completely inconsequential, but it was the ever increasing frequency of the arguments that had Draco sitting in somber solitude. In his current mood, he was not really enjoying the excellent music of the trio onstage. With a rueful smile, he recalled that it was Harry who had first gotten him interested in jazz. Draco had been raised to appreciate classical music, and he had been unprepared for the wide variety of music that his housemates had listened to at Hogwarts. He had never developed a liking for pop music, but jazz...jazz, he liked.
Draco finished his scotch and signaled for another, wondering what he could do to salvage his relationship with Harry.
~*~
Harry felt like ducking his head as he made his way through the jazz club. He loved Ronny Scott's, but the low ceilings always made him feel somewhat claustrophobic. He had a hunch he would find Draco here. After all, this is where he, himself had come to lick his wounds nearly two months ago when they'd had a spectacular row. Harry finally spotted his wayward lover at a table near the back, and he felt his shoulders relax. He hadn't even realized how tense he was. His back stiffened again, however, as he observed another bloke approach Draco, offering a drink and a smile. Another wave of relief surged through him when he saw Draco frown at the other man and shake his head. The interloper shrugged and walked away, and Harry moved quickly through the crowd. He arrived at Draco's table and slid into the opposite seat, saying, "Can I buy you a drink?"
Draco studied Harry for a long moment, then indicated his fresh Scotch. "I'm good for now," he replied quietly.
"So," drawled Harry, "what's a nice guy like you doing in a place like this?"
Draco ducked his head to hide his smile, saved from having to answer right away by the arrival of someone to take Harry's drink order. By the time the waitress had left, Draco had schooled his features into a mask of impassivity. He leaned back in his chair and stated, "I argued with my lover earlier, and I decided we needed some time apart to cool down."
"Yeah?" said Harry, sitting up straighter. "He must be a right prat to have upset you so."
"He can be," deadpanned Draco, looking Harry directly in the eye. His lover winced slightly, and Draco hastened to add, "But it's not entirely his fault. I'm partially to blame, as well." He dropped his eyes then and played idly with his glass, rotating it between his palms.
Harry's butterbeer arrived, and he took a long draw from the bottle before speaking again. "If you were mine," he began, "I would never want to see you unhappy. I would do anything in my power to please you, and I would apologize for my stupidity if I ever caused you any grief."
Harry's voice rang with sincerity, and Draco took a quick sip of his Scotch, finding it hard to swallow past the lump in his throat. Regaining his composure, he glanced up through his fringe and remarked, "You sound like a decent bloke." He paused a beat before asking as nonchalantly as possible, "Are you single?"
Harry grinned at him before responding, "Alas, I am currently in a committed relationship with a stunningly handsome, albeit snarky, blond git."
"Snarky, you say?" queried Draco, one eyebrow cocked in an almost challenging manner.
Harry nodded solemnly. "Extremely snarky," he intoned, "but I like that about him. He keeps me on my toes and makes life interesting."
"Fascinating," remarked Draco. "And you say he's stunningly handsome, as well?"
Harry just barely refrained from rolling his eyes. Leave it to Draco to fish for compliments so shamelessly. "Quite stunning," Harry affirmed. "In fact, as snarky blonds go, he's probably the most gorgeous one I've seen."
A pleased smile curled Draco's lips, and he couldn't resist asking, "What other attributes does your stunningly gorgeous, snarky blond lover possess?"
Harry didn't bother to point out that Draco had chosen to place stunningly gorgeous ahead of snarky when describing the phantom blond. Instead, he rubbed his chin as if giving the matter some serious thought. "Well, he's intelligent and quick witted," he pointed out. "And he's great with Potions, which means he's a wonder in the kitchen, as well." Draco was smirking by this point, and Harry couldn't resist adding, "Oh, and he's extremely modest, too."
Draco glowered at him before adopting a sly expression and asking, "So he's good in the kitchen, eh? How is he in the bedroom?"
Harry couldn't help but laugh out loud at that. He had forgotten to add sneaky to Draco's list of traits. "Let's just say I'm very satisfied in the bedroom, and I daresay I make sure he is, too."
Draco smiled softly before he sighed and said, "He sounds very lucky to have you." He dropped his eyes again and fiddled with his glass once more.
"No, I'm the lucky one," Harry countered, the truth of it slamming home as he spoke the words. He was so incredibly lucky to have this snarky, sneaky, stunning blond in his life, and it scared him to think of how empty his life would be without Draco in it.
Harry finished off the rest of his butterbeer and placed some pound notes on the table. Rising to his feet, he extended his hand to Draco. "Come on," he said, "I'll walk you home."
Draco took Harry's hand without hesitation and allowed himself to be drawn from his seat. "Won't your stunningly gorgeous blond boyfriend be upset?" he teased.
Harry placed a protective hand at the small of Draco's back and used it to steer him through the crowd. He leaned close long enough to whisper in Draco's ear, "Somehow, I don't think he'll mind."
Be sure to leave your feedback at the author's journal here.