Title: Horsing Around

Genre: Humor/Romance

Pairing: HP/DM

Rating: M

Warnings: Whiny! Lame humor! Draco

Summary: Harry wants to play Wild West. Draco tags along for the ride.

Disclaimer: I don't own a thing. It's all the property of J.K Rowling, and this story is being written for entertainment purposes only. Not a dime is being made.

xxxx

They were down to one horse.

The other one was dead, and there was some ritual behind respecting dead horses that had Draco walking that day. Walking! For bloody miles! In wretched leather "cowboy" boots that had his feet aching with blisters and his calves aching with the strain of keeping himself upright in the boots.

Harry was oblivious to his suffering. Or so, Draco assumed he was oblivious, since his arsehole boyfriend wasn't paying attention to him. It had been Harry's idea after all to do this stupid role playing crap. He wanted to play Wild West, some muggle fantasy he'd always had, and Draco, seeing the perfect opportunity to not only see his manly lover decked out in real leather, but also to get himself fucked while bent over some cowboy-ish mechanism of love, had come along happily.

There had been no fucking.

They'd been out alone on this beaten trail for three days and two nights and Harry hadn't so much as copped a feel. He was starting to feel neglected. He whimpered softly as he stepped down and a particularly dense strike of pain shot up his leg, and having broken the dam that had been guarding such pathetic displays, promptly sat down on the ground and commenced with the full out whining he'd wanted to get out for hours.

Harry chuckled, stopping his horse while he watched Draco whimper on the ground. "I was wondering when you'd give up."

"I'm not giving up, Potty." Draco snarled. He ran a hand tentatively over the leather encasement of his tender footies, far too scared to peel off his boots for what he might find beneath them. "I'm hurting. This isn't any fun, and you don't care."

Harry rolled his eyes and sighed. "Of course I care, Angel. He dismounted and knelt over Draco worriedly. Taking the other man's chin firmly in hand, he lifted Draco's eyes to meet his own. "But you've been such a sport about everything, really how was I to know you were hurting? I'm not a mind reader."

Draco huffed and ripped his face away from Harry's hands. They were dirty and sweaty, after all. "You don't bloody care. You've been so carried away by this spell…all this open country for miles and miles for you and horsie to enjoy." He waved at Harry's noble steed. He himself had been stuck with some little mare that didn't like to run and had eventually got itself killed when it had veered off the path they'd been on. Said path just happened to be on the edge of a mountain. Draco could only thank Merlin that this was just a stupid spell and not the real thing. There had never been a suffering horsie. It was just an image that fucked with your head. Still that hadn't stopped him from weeping over the death of the stupid thing. He might need therapy. Harry had held him for all of two seconds before headed off onto the next adventure.

An adventure that had Draco walking.

"You don't care. If you cared, you would have held me last night. It's fucking cold out here Harry! I was freezing, and you just rolled over and went to sleep!"

Harry shook his head. "I thought that's what you wanted. You told me that if we were going to do this, you wanted to make it as realistic as possible, so I've been playing along."

"You're trying to tell me that real cowboys didn't fuck each other silly when they finished with their horribly long, sweltering, blisters on their toes, chafing on their thighs journeys?" Draco snorted. "Yeah right. All that leather around and no rutting between them?" He frowned deeply, sneering in distaste as he was reminded of his own brand of blisters and hot chafing. "I wanna go home Harry. You take better care of me there."

Harry laughed, scooped Draco up off the ground, and deposited him on the left over horse. "I'll take care of you here baby. We're almost at the end of the line."

Draco sniffed. "Whatever." His eyes widened when Harry mounted the horse behind him, drawing him back against his chest. Draco wavered, his equilibrium thrown off by the jostling.

"Comfortable enough, Angel?" Harry purred in his ear, his arms tightening around Draco protectively. Harry would never let him fall.

"Yes"

"Good."

xxxx

"Oh Merlin Harry…yes, oh! HARRY! OH!" Draco was taking full advantage of the "no one around for hundreds of miles atmosphere" as he screamed his delight as loud as he could. He knew Harry loved it when he was loud. It stroked his already enormous ego to know Draco enjoyed their sexual escapades. They were on the ground, fucking like the bunnies Draco had wanted to emulate for days, the cooling ashes of their campfire forgotten in the spirit of getting off.

So, while it wasn't really being bent over and taken hard, Draco certainly appreciated this kind of riding and wasn't going to complain. Harry was on his back, his hands on Draco's hips, firmly guiding Draco's movements while he rode his lovers cock. They'd initially started with Draco on his back, (which was one of his favorite positions, because if anyone happened to come across them, it was Harry's ass that would protect his own) but the hard rocky surface beneath the thin as fuck blanket had been scratching his sensitive skin, and that simply would not do. So, they'd switched.

Besides, Harry could get that much deeper inside him when they fucked this way, though those cursed hands on his hips prevented him from thrusting down as deeply and quickly as he'd like. "Hush Angel, take it slow, I don't want you to hurt yourself."

Harry did have a point. The oil they had with them, in the efforts of preserving the atmosphere, was something that would have been available to them if they had really been muggle cowboys doing cowboy things a hundred years ago.

It certainly wasn't as wonderful as wizard lube or a lubricusspell, but Draco had enjoyed the manual preparation with the antiquated oil regardless. "Harder, let me go harder! Oh!"

Harry had had enough of lying on his back, and Draco was now too far gone to care about the hard ground, so he flipped them over with a casual demonstration of his physical prowess that made Draco giggle and roll his eyes. A moment later he was rolling his eyes for a different reason as Harry gave him the proper fucking he'd been aching for.

"OH HARRY!" Draco came with a squeal, Harry's own low grunt of release drowned out by its intensity.

Once they'd cleaned up as best they could, Draco snuggled into Harry's human-furnace frame, and promptly burst into a fit of giggles. "What the fuck is so funny?" Harry smiled, petting Draco's hair lovingly.

Trying to talk while giggling was hard, but Draco managed to choke out the source of his mirth. "Save the horse and ride the cowboy."

Harry rolled his eyes and smacked Draco's bottom gently. "You ponce." He chuckled. "You and your lame jokes."

Draco snorted, burrowing closer to stave off the evening chill. "It's muggle."

"Of course it is, Angel. Of course it is. Go to sleep baby. We have one more day of travel and then the spell will end."

"Can I ride with you again?" Draco asked mischievously, his eyes twinkling with delight.

Harry laughed. "Anytime you want."

Draco sighed happily. Tomorrow wouldn't be so bad, and then they'd be home, and Harry could really start sucking up for putting him through this cowboy shite, because of course, he'd never admit that he'd liked it.

Harry in leather? Pffft. Of course not.

xxxx