Disclaimer: Does not belong to me! I am only writing for personal amusement and not monetary gain of any kind. All rights, characters, etc. belong to J. K. Rowling and associates.
Pairing: Harry / Draco
Warnings: SLASH – This story has boy/boy themes. If this is not your cup of tea, please do not proceed.
Summary: Harry and Draco have different views on how to spend a vacation in Paris.
"Say cheese!"
Draco forced a grimace that he hoped would pass for a smile as Harry took yet another picture of him standing beside a famous landmark. This time it was the Eiffel Tower.
"Can we go back to the hotel now?" he asked with just the slightest hint of a whine.
"Soon!" Harry chirped. "I want to see the Arc de Triomphe first." He waved his note-ridden map under Draco's nose before grabbing his arm and tugging him along.
Draco sighed. When he'd suggested they spend a weekend in Paris, he'd envisioned candlelit dinners on a terrace overlooking the Seine, casual strolls through the Jardin du Luxemborg, perhaps even a furtive shag beneath the lights of the Eiffel Tower. He had not envisioned Harry dragging him to every monument and tourist trap in the greater metropolitan area.
Still, he glanced at his boyfriend, Harry was enjoying himself, something Draco thought he didn't do nearly enough. He sighed again and trudged along.
"Look! It's the Arc de Triomphe!" Harry exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air in excitement, as if they hadn't been able to see it for the last several blocks as they approached.
Draco bit his tongue and refrained from comment.
"Quick, take a picture of me. I promised Hermione I'd get a picture of the Arc for her."
Harry's confounding Muggle camera was thrust into Draco's hands and, before he could protest, Harry had scampered off to pose. Draco looked from the camera to Harry's grinning face. He didn't want to take a picture of that smile, he wanted to snog it. He looked down at the camera again and groaned. Oh great, now I've pressed something. Instead of seeing an image on the display there were menu options listed.
Scanning the list in hopes of finding a way to get back to the viewfinder, Draco noticed one particular item. Timed shot. He paused. He'd seen Harry use the camera's timer function when taking pictures of the Weasel clan. He no longer trusted Draco with the task, even though Draco had assured him he hadn't intentionally cut Ron out of every shot last Christmas.
After adjusting a few settings, Draco quickly propped the camera on a nearby trash bin and dashed to Harry's side.
"Draco, what…?" The rest of the question was cut off as Draco's lips descended on Harry's. The kiss was sweet and intense, just the way kisses in Paris should be, and by the time they broke apart Harry's eyes were glazed, his cheeks were flushed, and his shirt was decidedly rumpled. Draco leaned forward to kiss him again but remembered the camera at the last second. Spinning them both around, he looped an arm around Harry's shoulders.
"Honeydukes!" he said with a grin, just as the flash went off.
Harry still looked dazed when Draco glanced over at him.
"What was that all about?"
"That's how a romantic weekend in Paris should be, Harry. It's about holding hands and snogging and…" Draco leaned in to whisper in his boyfriend's ear, delighting in the blush that rose in Harry's cheeks. Again.
"Really? Here? But someone might see."
Draco leered at him. "That's the point."
"Oh." Harry paused. "Well, why didn't you say so!" He grabbed Draco's arm and hauled him toward the Arc.
~Weeks later~
"And this is Draco at the Eiffel Tower and that is…oh, um, that's us at the Arc de Triomphe." Harry's enthusiastic voice trailed off as he recalled the events surrounding that particular picture.
Hermione glanced at him. "You look a little flushed in this one, Harry."
"He looks like he was just shagged."
"Ronald!" Hermione admonished.
"Well he does!" the red-head exclaimed defensively.
"Actually," came a drawling voice from the doorway, "the shagging happened after that picture was taken."
Harry glared over at Draco's smug expression but his annoyance faded at the warmth in the silver gaze. He felt a blush heat his cheeks and he reached down to grab the album and snap it shut. "Well, that's about all the pictures. Ron, you'd better be getting your wife home. She's starting to look uncomfortable being on her feet for so long."
Hermione frowned, "I'm fine, Harry."
Harry grabbed their coats and ushered them to the door. "It was lovely seeing you two. Come around again soon, okay?"
The door closed behind them seconds before Draco slipped his arms around Harry's waist. "Hmm, good idea." he murmured, nibbling his boyfriend's soft neck.
Harry melted into the embrace. "You had that look."
"Indeed." He tugged lightly on Harry's midsection. "Shall we retire to the bedroom and reminisce about Paris?"
"Yes."