Title: Take a Hint.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor the song which inspired this little ficlet.
Rating: Pg-13 (T)
Summary: (Song inspired by "Take a Hint" By Victorious.)
Harry Potter is tired of being hit on. No, means no! So...Why is he kissing Malfoy again?
Paring: Harry/Draco. /Slash/
One shot!
Written By: KillerInADress
[A/N: I'm so sorry for my late update on 'Things Which Are Mine'. I have more excuses than actual words for the new chapter. *Sad face* But I hope this little one shot makes up for it. Forgiven? Please? I'll share my cookies and milk! *Smiles* Anyways. Enjoy.]
Take a Hint:
"1, Get your hands off my—
2, Before I punch you in the—
3, Stop your staring at my—HEY!"
–Take a hint by Victorious.
"Why am I always hit on by the boys I don't like?" Harry Potter muttered to himself once his flirty bartender wondered off to help out a new costumer.
Harry had come out as gay in his last 're-do' 7th year at Hogwarts, and ever since, he has had every guy from Britain to Merlin's enchanted rock and back to make a pass at him.
Normally, Harry would hate all the attention, but many of those guys where nice. Lately though…
"Hello," A rich baritone voice belonging to an equally powerful looking man broke through Harry's thoughts. He indicated the bar-stool to Harry's left: "This seat taken?"
Harry gave the dark man a wide smile and shook his head. "Feel free."
"Thanks." He replied once he was seated. They sat in silence while the newcomer signaled the bartender and ordered his Rum and Coke. "Oh," He put in arm out to stop the bar tender, sending Harry a very predatory smile. "And how about another for my mate here…On me, of course."
Harry choked on his beer and coughed.
"No, no." He spluttered the moment his lungs were working again. Shaking off the mans' hand that was lightly patting his back far too softly to actually be of any help, Harry added, "I'll buy my own drinks, thanks."
This was the last thing Harry wanted tonight. He had just had one of the worst days at work, and all he wanted was a few drinks to help him unwind before he went home to deal with his mountain of paper work and to finish packing up all his Ex's old things for him to come pick up tomorrow. It was still far, far too soon for anything like this, Harry thought.
And besides, he still hated it when others made decisions for him. He was an adult now, damn it! He could certainly buy his own bloody drinks.
"I insist." The man said; once again bring Harry from his thoughts with that deep rumbling voice.
Harry just gave him what he hoped was an apologetic smile. "Really, thanks for the offer. But I don't like others paying for me. I can manage."
Harry had the uneasy feeling that his protest was falling on deaf ears.
"Right you are, handsome." The bartender said suddenly reappearing with two drinks in hand. Shoving the black mans' rum and coke roughly at him, the bartender gave Harry another beer and smiled, his light brown eyes crinkling at the corners. "This one is on the house."
"No, really, I'm fine-"
"Now don't be like that… it's my pleasure."
Inwardly groaning, Harry accepted the beer anyways, still planning to pay for it on his way out. "Thank you." He said awkwardly.
The man to his left was looking rather sour at having his offer upstaged, but he changed gears rather quickly when the green eyed wizard shifted in his seat; pushing up his glasses in a sort of nervous habit. "Uncomfortable?" He asked while slipping a hand onto Harry's thigh. Harry tensed and the man went on as though he didn't notice or didn't care about the raven-head's discomfort. "We could always try to find a booth in the back…just the two of us." He added in a purr, grinning smugly in the Bartenders direction.
"No. Thank you. I'm fine where I am, thanks." Harry bit out; trying to remove the man's searching hand before it traveled up too far.
"Are you sure? If not a booth, I can go grab us a cab and we could…well…" He trailed off, eyes dropping to look up and down Harry's body. His intentions were very clear.
Harry snapped. "Look," He said, frowning at the dark-skinned man with something akin to irate. "I'm not interested. Okay? I was just trying to be polite, but since all it's done is bite me in the-"
"Whoa, I wasn't-" The man hurried to try and fix his mistake before he lost his chance, but Harry wasn't having any of it.
"Yes, you were. And if you don't get your hand off my leg…" Harry jumped to his feet, closed his eyes, and just scarcely stopped himself from growling at the larger man.
"I can throw him out if you'd like," The bartender put in hopefully, clearly excited by the idea of getting rid of his competition. The man glared at him and opened his mouth to retort but Harry was there first.
Rounding of the sandy-haired bartender, Harry couldn't quite keep the growl at bay this time. "And you," He snarled. "You're just as bad as him! I thought you would have gotten it at the beginning when you asked me what my sign was, and I told you it was 'stop'."
The black man sniggered behind his hand, reminding Harry that he hadn't finished telling him 'where to stick it', yet.
"What is it about 'No' that you don't understand?" Harry asked both men in exasperation.
Both of them gave Harry a mix between hurt and shocked expressions.
"You," Harry went on, pointing a finger at the bartender. "You may think that we should hook up, but I think that we should not. You even asked me for my number and put me on the spot. But my answer hasn't changed. No, thank you, but I'm just, not, interested."
The smug look on the handsome face of the darker man made Harry go in for the kill.
"You had me at hello, but then you opened up that mouth of yours, and that is where you went wrong." He said darkly, shoving his thumb in the direction of the suddenly sober black man.
"You little-" He stood, his tone was furious. But Harry spoke loudly over him.
"Perhaps you need a little more than a simple 'no', so," Harry drew himself up to his full height, which still left him a foot shorter than the dark man in front of him. "My answer is no, you can't buy me a drink. And no, you can't just touch me wherever you like. And by the way," Harry added. The words leaving his mouth before he had time to think about them. "Your breath? Yeah, well… it kind of stinks. You could really use a mint." Reaching into his pocket, Harry pulled out a dinner mint he had taken from the restaurant at lunch. He slammed it down on the bar in front of the stunned chap and, turning to both of the men in turn, Harry finished off his rant loudly. "Point is, gentlemen. Take. A. Hint!"
By now, the whole room had gone quiet to watch these two men being put into their place by a little less than a tantrum thrown by the one and only, Harry Potter.
Harry, now finally drained of annoyed frustration, felt his face heat up rapidly. Quickly, and with as much dignity as he had left, Harry grabbed his coat off the seat of the barstool just as a very familiar bored drawl sounded behind him.
"My, my, Potter. A little sassy tonight, are we?"
Harry froze in place and turned slowly on the spot, hardly daring to believe his eyes when they landed on the memorable white blonde head belonging to old school rival, Draco Malfoy.
Malfoy looked rather the same that he had when they had graduated. He was wearing that smug, slightly cocky smirk that always made Harry forget, if only for a moment, that he was the pointy git Harry wasn't allowed to fall for…damn him for looking so delicious in those trousers, Harry thought bitterly, trying to not think of how easily he could just-
No. Not now. Not here. Not in front of freaking Malfoy! Harry cleared his throat. "Yes, well…it's just been a bad day all around, hasn't it?" Harry sighed. Fishing out some money from his coat pocket, Harry tossed it onto the bar and took off outside before he made a mistake like telling Malfoy he was bloody hot in black…damn him.
He hadn't made it but two feet from the exit when Malfoy followed through, calling him.
Harry turned to face him for the second time that night and demanded tensely, "What do you want, Malfoy? I had sort of hoped we'd be over this whole 'School boy rivalry' by now…"
Malfoy paused, giving Harry a penetrating gaze that made the latter shift anxiously in place. Seeming satisfied with his findings, Malfoy grin. "Oh, but Potter, I've missed you far too much not to have a little fun." He teased.
Teased!
Harry was floored; too shocked to even move away when Malfoy came right up into his personal space. "I-what?"
Malfoy's grin grew into something disturbingly like a hungry smile. "Did you miss me, Potter?" He purred, reaching out to wrap an arm around Harry's waist.
At the contact, Harry snapped out of his bewildered state. Clearing his throat and cursing the way his body was reacting to the small gesture, Harry glowered. "Malfoy," He said warningly. "I'm not in the mood for your stupid games."
"On the count of three," Malfoy went on, ignoring Harry's angry stare.
"On the count of three, what?" Harry mumbled feeling puzzled.
Malfoy just smiled wider.
"One,"
Harry sighed. Why had he even expected an answer out of the git? Then Malfoy moved his hands to rest firmly against Harry's hips and Harry tensed. "Malfoy, you bloody prat. Get your hands off my hips."
"Two," Malfoy let his eyes travel over Harry.
"Before I punch you in the damn lips!" Harry snapped. Bring Malfoy's eyes back up to his face. Where they belong, Harry reminded himself sternly.
"Three."
Once more, Malfoy's gaze looked down, and Harry's yell of "HEY! Stop staring at my-" Was lost as they turned on the spot, and darkness took over Harry's senses.
The moment he could breathe again, Harry shoved Malfoy away. "What the bloody hell-" But whatever else Harry had planned to say was cut short when Malfoy moved back into his personal space and captured Harry's words and lips with his own in a heart stopping kiss.
Harry's mind stopped working and it wasn't until the need to breathe broke through his hazy mind did Harry pull away. Gulping air into his begging lungs, he tried to fight down the lustful fog long enough to figure out what has happening…especially since Malfoy didn't seem ready to break away and had moved to his neck the second Harry's lips were taken away.
"Ma-Malfoy," Harry gasped. He cleared his throat, which caused Malfoy to move to his exposed collarbone…when had that happened? "Malfoy wa-wait, please."
Groaning, Malfoy obligingly moved away, which helped Harry fuzzy mind to clear considerably. "What's wrong?" His voice was husky and that undid every good the space between them had made.
Harry closed his eyes and focused all his self control on not jumping the handsome bastard right here and now. "Malfoy, what-what is this?" He asked, hating the weakness in his tone.
"Well, I was hoping this was heading for the bedroom…was I wrong?"
At the uncertainty in his cocky reply, Harry felt better. They were both on level ground now, and that made it all the hotter.
Opening his eyes again, he noticed the room Malfoy had taken him. "A hotel room?" He said to himself, feeling bamboozled all over again. "Why a hotel?"
Malfoy straightened a bit defensively. "My roommate and I had a…disagreement." He bit out tersely. "So I decided to be the gentlemen and give her some space."
Harry snorted. Malfoy? Being the gentlemen? As if… wait, did he say, "Her?" Harry's wide eye snapped back to Malfoy, glasses falling slightly on the bridge of his nose. "Your roommate is a…girl?"
Malfoy took in Harry's expression, and smirked. "Why, Harry Potter… are you jealous?" He asked playfully moving closer to Harry again. "Because, if you are, you might be interested to know that Pansy and I are just friends. And I'm gay…in case your small mind wasn't working properly after our little snog session."
Harry gaped. "You're roommates with Pansy Parkinson, you're gay, and we just made out in your hotel room…" Harry said to no one in particular, trying to clear the last of the lust from his mind so he could grasp the thought that was there, just hanging out of reach.
"Yes, yes, and hell yes…is that a problem?" Malfoy's raised eyebrow was all Harry needed to break his resolve. He wanted this. But, he wanted this on his terms.
Besides, Harry reasoned, when would ever get another chance to sleep with the very prat that turned into his first school boy crush?
"Actually," Harry said with a smirk so Slytherin, he swears Malfoy did a double take. "That is a problem. See, there is no way I'm going to sleep in some fancy-pancy hotel room with you when I have a very nice bed at home."
Malfoy actually looked so affronted that Harry broke into laughter.
"Malfoy, I'm inviting you back to my place." Harry said in between sniggers. Malfoy seemed to consider this before he shook his head.
"This room as a very nice bed, actually. And there is room service here. Why would you want to-"
But Harry wasn't going to argue this. "Shut up, you prat." He said, taking a step, closing the space between as he repeated Malfoy's words and actions. "Now, I'm going to count to three."
However, Malfoy opened his mouth, probably to keep fighting the issue so Harry kissed him and was rather pleased when it worked better than anything Harry had ever tried to shut the blonde up. "One," He mumbled against Malfoy's lips before he kissed him again and slipped his arm around Malfoy's thin waist. "Two,"
"Three." Malfoy finished for him, clearly annoyed at Harry's slow counting even if he didn't mind the kissing. "The next one is three."
Harry laughed, his breath ghosting Malfoy's face and sending a shiver down Malfoy's spine. "Three." Harry agreed. Turning them on the spot, he thought of home.
Or more specifically, his bedroom.
The next morning, Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy slept peacefully in each others arms. The night had been steamy, odd at times, and pure brilliant.
Harry Potter's floo went off once, twice, three times, before the person on the other side got tired of waiting for an answer and just came on through.
Michael Corner looked around the seemingly empty house of Harry Potter's. Even on his days off, Harry was normally up by now. Morning person that he was.
"Harry?" He called out. He looked around by he didn't see the boxes of his stuff that Harry had told him he'd leave by the floo. This wasn't like Harry at all. Feeling curious, Michael ventured further into the house. Harry wasn't in his study or the kitchen. He had to still be in bed.
Making his way upstairs and to the left, Michael pushed open the door leading to Harry's bedroom and what he saw there made his jaw drop. "Harry!" He shouted in surprise.
The two sleeping figures awoke with a start. Malfoy grabbed his wand but Harry put a sleep arm out to stop him. "Michael, what are you doing here?" Harry asked the shocked man in his doorway.
"What am I doing here? What is he doing here?!" He demanded, gesturing towards Malfoy who was now scowling right back.
"He's-" Harry started to say before Malfoy turned his scowl on Harry.
"Who is he?" Malfoy growled.
"I'm his bloody boyfriend." Michael replied hotly.
"EX-Boyfriend." Harry clarified shortly.
"Oh, come now, Harry. Don't be like that." Michael whined while giving Harry what was his best attempt at a pout.
Malfoy growled again. "And just what is your ex-boyfriend doing in your home?" He inquired harshly, silver eyes cold and never leaving Michael's face.
"I-oh!" Harry said, slapping his forehead. Michael had come to pick up all his things. How had he forgotten?
"I'm here to save him from whatever potion you've used to drug him, Malfoy." Michael snarled.
"You know me but I haven't the fainted clue just who you are…have we met?" Malfoy's brusque question took Harry off guard.
"We all went to Hogwarts together," Michael moodily grumbled under his breath before raising his voice to yell, "So, you don't deny that you've drugged Harry?"
That was the last straw. Harry stood, quite ready to tell Michael off, when the door suddenly slammed in Michael's face and the sound of the lock clicking into place filled the stunned silence. Slowly, Harry turned on the spot to gape at Malfoy, who still had his wand raised.
"Wha—"
"You're not wearing pants." Malfoy said curtly, as if it should have been obvious. Looking anywhere but at Harry, Malfoy went on. "Ex or not, I don't want him seeing you like that."
"You're seeing me like this," Harry pointed out before the full understanding of what Malfoy had just said set in. "You…" But he simply trailed off as a wide smile slid easily onto his face. Cheeks a flaming red, Malfoy finally lifted silver eyes to connect with bright green. "Thank you." Harry said, not really sure what he was thankful for. "But he was actually here to pick up all his old stuff...and I doubt he'll leave until he gets his stuff so if you could just," Harry gestured towards the door vaguely and when he didn't hear it unlock, he looked back at Malfoy, opening his mouth to ask properly but Malfoy spoke first.
"Pants," He simply said.
"Oh, right." Harry flushed and quickly grabbed his trousers from last night.
"No, not those!" Malfoy snapped. At the look of Harry's incredulous face, Malfoy added in a calmer voice, "They make your arse look fantastic."
Harry simply smiled. "I like your arse too, Draco."
Draco smiled back.
Harry eventually did find a pair of bottoms that Draco said made his butt look, "Less fantastic than the others…I suppose." And by the time the two had actually unlocked the bedroom door, Michael corner was no where to be seen.
Draco and Harry enjoyed breakfast together, and then they met for lunch. By dinner, Harry told Draco to stop paying for a hotel and just roommate with him for a little while.
He hadn't actually expected Draco to agree.
Three months later, Draco had officially moved in.
Michael corner did eventually return for his stuff. But when he asked Harry if he was serious about Draco, Draco just scuffed and moved over to kneel in front of Harry.
"Draco, wha-"
"Oh, take a bloody hint, Potter." Draco snarked, before pulling a ring out of his pocket.
Harry had said yes.
And Draco had kissed him soundly on the mouth.
"Malfoy?"
"Yes, Potter?"
"Stop staring at my-"
Draco kissed him.
"I love you too."
A/N: Hope it was pretty okay. I haven't written in a while and I really need to stretch my fingers. I promise to update soon. Bye^^
