"Can we go now?"
"It just started."
"Then what in blazes were those random snippets about?"
"They were previews, now shh!"
"Well… how much longer till it's finished?"
"Shhh!"
Hushing bombarded him from all different directions in the dark. Draco sat back with a huff, the seat groaning ominously as he did so. "Oh honestly!" he grumbled. There was no such thing as a comfortable position in these sub-par breeding traps. Several surreptitious Scourgifys had to be cast before he even considered perching himself on the very edge.
From dragging him from their flat to going through the tedious lines of tickets and concession all the while Draco was helpfully pointing out each flaw his scrutinizing eyes saw, Harry had apparently lost his patience and simply pushed Draco down and plopped into the seat next to him.
"Ghosts, Harry?" he asked incredulously and more shushing lowered his tone. He glared at the muggles below him he couldn't quite see before turning back to his boyfriend. "But you know plenty of ghosts," he whispered. "Why are we even watching this?"
"Because I wanted to, and besides it received some good reviews, now please be quiet!" Harry dismissed him with an irritated wave of his hand and continued staring at the screen as if he were witnessing the second coming of Merlin. Hard to believe since there was barely anyone here.
Draco reared back, indignant. What was so great about this Muggle film that it was more alluring to Potter than his devilishly handsome, witty, generous, obscenely gorgeous boyfriend? He glared at the jumpy picture and the boring couple it featured. Just one well-aimed Incendio... Unfortunately Harry had had the foresight to wrangle his wand from him -the prat- otherwise Draco would simply Apparate home. He didn't care about the haunted house stretched before him. He came along only because he was promised a fantastic dinner at a restaurant of his choosing. The condition of course being to sit through this shite.
Seriously, how could this -seconds dragged on of watching the couple sleeping- be more entertaining than him, a natural blonde with a physique Adonis could only wish he had?
A greasy bag of popcorn nudged his crossed arms. He sneered at it and glared at the speccy git attached to it, still oblivious. Draco pushed it back with the tip of his finger. Potter just continued to stuff his face and slurp from an oversized cup of pure sugar. Apparently sulking only worked effectively in a well-lit area, so the guilty party could see the evidence of their wrong-doing.
Ignoring me. Now we know who won't be getting laid tonight, he thought bitterly. But then again, wouldn't he just be punishing himself? Draco had needs afterall...
Just then a wonderfully devious idea struck him. He watched Potter's fist circuit between the bag and his half-hearted chewing maw. As soon as those calloused fingers left those butter-slick lips, he snagged him by the wrist and pulled it to him. Potter's confused glare melted at the first lick, his fingers going slack in Draco's hold.
A sly, red tongue systematically cleaned each buttery digit, pausing to lick his lips to catch all the salt. A small groan slipped from Potter then, and Draco grinned smugly through his light sucking. It fell when half-lidded green slid off to the side to catch a glimpse of whatever was happening on screen. Draco had to restrain himself from biting down. Instead he pulled Potter's middle finger from his mouth and nipped sharply at the tip. The owner jumped and directed his attention back to where it belonged to watch as supple pink lips drew his finger back into that hot, wet cavern and sucked hard. Tongue twining and cheeks hollowing. The shifting glow revealed those brilliant eyes darkening with arousal. Draco bobbed his head and moaned low in his throat, pewter irises peeking through long, pale lashes. He pressed his palm into his lap to massage at the bulge his own ministrations incited.
With a pop, he pulled the soaked digit from his mouth and quirked a brow. "Still want to watch your film?"
His boyfriend snarled in reply, much to the consertation of the other patrons, before flipping up the armrest that separated them and pulled Draco into his lap, mashing their mouths together. Harry kissed him furiously, biting at his lips and thrusting his tongue inside Draco's willing mouth. Hands clutching at his hips jerked him closer, rubbing their clothed erections together. Draco threw his head back with a too loud gasp in the silent theater. As teeth dragged at the tender flesh of his neck, trousers were undone in a hurry.
"Good thing I chose the back row," he chuckled breathily. He swallowed back a moan when Harry took both their cocks in hand and squeezed.
"Shhh," Harry hissed into his ear and suckled on the lobe, "We have to be quiet."
Draco nodded eagerly, pushing himself through the tight ring between hand and velvet flesh. Slowly a tentative rhythm was created, each thrusting against the other. It didn't last long until Draco's hand joined Harry's and they were both stroking up and down, thumbs swiping at the leaking slits. Draco wasn't known for being particularly shy about vocalizing his pleasure, so he buried his face into his boyfriend's shoulder and mumbled incoherently, gyrating and pushing insistently against the cock flush against his. Heat swelled around his groin.
A free hand forced itself under his pants and squeezed at his backside, pulling harshly as fingers grazed his hole. "Shit, Draco," Harry ground out. "Wanna fuck this perfect, little arse."
And Draco was coming with a pitiful whimper no one thankfully had to hear. Harry followed immediately after with a muffled grunt. They stayed in place for lingering moments trying to catch their breath. A tingle in his nether regions signified a much needed cleaning charm. Reluctantly, Draco slid back into his own seat, the chair squeaking as he did so. Just as they were doing up their trousers, the lights came on. Draco sat up, startled, his afterglow shattered, as names rolled on screen and Muggles were leaving. He looked over at Harry who was flushed and sweaty, lamenting the spilled popcorn on the sticky floor.
"Think I'm ready to turn in," he yawned, stretching.
Draco stood up with an angry snort, which he would deny because Malfoys do not snort. "The fuck you are. You promised me dinner."
"But I didn't even get to see the movie!"
Draco smirked and gestured between them. "Obviously it had a happy ending."
Harry really couldn't find it in himself to argue with such logic.
Fin.