Déshabillé
A/N: Déshabillé is the French word for undressed, thought it was fitting
for where the boys were heading.it's pronounced dey-sab-ie-ay
"We need to do something, I'm going insane," Draco said in a rather whiney voice. It was the next night and they had been sitting in the two armchairs his room possessed. That in its self wasn't so bad, but for the last half hour Potter had been staring at him. Not just a casual glance, no Harry was staring at Draco as if he were a work of art. It was like Harry was memorizing Draco's every detail. Draco was trying in vain to look any where but that wasn't occupied by Harry. But, as he looked around he saw so many intimate details that were just so.Harry. This trunk was open and several shirts and robes were slowly making their escape. "Harry's" side of the bed was rumpled and unmade, while Draco's was smoothed out. Draco glimpsed one of Harry's shoes peeking out from under the bed, and the other under the armoire. So many pieces of Harry had worked themselves seamlessly into his life. How had he let this happen?
"Yes, we really do," Harry replied, making Draco shiver and blush slightly at the tone of his voice. That voice gave him an idea.
"Okay, we're going out. Let's go to a club. We can floo to Diagon Alley and then go to London. I know a couple of clubs there, and I have an ID that'll get us in."
"You? In a muggle club? Wouldn't you be afraid they might rub off on you?" Harry snorted.
"Well, I haven't died from exposure to you yet, and I figure a Golden Boy is worse than most muggles. So, I'll be alright." Draco got up and made for the door.
"Hey! Where are you going?" Harry said, sounding slightly worried.
"I'm going to tell Mother what we're doing. Don't fret, Potter, I'll be back shortly," he said, chuckling, and left the room.
It was easier than expected to convince Narcissa to let them out. All he had to do was hint that it would help in gaining Harry's trust and she thrust some muggle money, from Lord knows where, and told him to have a good time. He was back upstairs in less than fifteen minutes.
"Okay Potter, go shower and I'll pick out your clothes."
"What? Hell if I'm going to let you choose what I wear. I am not a child."
"Yes, but you seem to be completely color blind as well as having absolutely no fashion sense. Just wear the clothes; I'm not going out with a loser." Harry stomped off to the bathroom, muttering as he went. Draco was left with a sense of victory.
He walked over to Harry's trunks. One peek probed that it was as Draco had feared; Harry had absolutely nothing suitable for clubbing, or even leaving the house. Draco walked back over to his own wardrobe. What to put Harry in. Draco had a nice sized collection of muggle clothing that he wore specifically for clubbing. Reaching out he slowly began to choose.
A soon as Harry vacated the bathroom, Draco jumped in. Harry's other clothes were lying all over the floor. Draco grabbed them and put them into a slightly neater pile. As he moved them, he could smell Harry. Harry smelled like Christmas. And under that a slight cologne smell. When had Harry put cologne on? Noticing the comforting feelings these smells gave him, and the fact that he was now clutching them to his chest in a rather un-Malfoyish way, Draco threw them down quickly. He removed his clothing and got into the shower. Taking as small an amount of time as possible, Draco washed. Rather soon he was toweled dry and pushing open the door to his room.
He dropped his brush with a gasp. Harry was.was so.
"Gah," he chocked. Harry turned away from the mirror slowly, revolving on the balls of his feet as if on display. Draco's brain was mush, was that the same outfit he had chosen? The jeans looked made for Harry, the worn looking patches perfectly accentuating his legs. Then came the turquoise shirt, the greener muted turquoise brought out Harry's eyes. It also drew the eye to the lightly tanned skin showing in the v that Harry had left unbuttoned. Harry had obviously used some of Draco's gel and spiked/tousled his hair, making almost a mini-mo hawk. He looked dangerous? Sexy? Insane? Draco didn't know. But what his mind didn't want to register, his body did. Fuck, he'd gotten an erection just from looking at Harry. How was he going to hide that?
He was concentrating so hard on his own thoughts; he didn't notice Harry slowly walking towards him. Harry walked carefully, as if stalking a small animal. Harry was directly in front of him before Draco was truly aware.
"So, does this mean I have your approval?" Harry asked, licking his lips as he glanced downwards. Fuck, fuck, fuck, Draco couldn't think, didn't want to think, but had to.
"N-n-I-I guess so," Draco stuttered, finding it very difficult to talk with Harry a minimum amount of centimeters away. Harry reached out and followed a ling of drying water down Draco's chest, catching up with the drop before it slid into the towel. Draco shivered; he wanted Harry's hands on him. And just as Harry's other hand began to rise, the moment was ruined.
"Draco, Harry? What are you doing? I thought you were leaving," came Narcissa's voice from behind the door.
"Uh, yes Mother, we'll be going shortly." Instead of replying, they heard heels clicking away. Draco quickly turned away from Harry and grabbed his clothes. He headed back into the bathroom, not wanting to deal with this new Harry quite yet.
He had chosen a pair of black leather pants and a rather tight tee-shirt in gray. The pants were new; Draco had seen them in a muggle shop and bought them immediately. He had slight, okay not slight, huge problems getting them on, and they creaked quite a bit when he walked, but they definitely had the desired effect. Harry's jaw dropped when Draco came back into the room.
Without stopping to analyze the things he was feeling for Harry right then, Draco quickly grabbed his gel, spiked his hair and added a silver and leather bracelet. Trying to ignore his arousal, Draco walked to the fire place and grabbed the floo powder. Harry grabbed some and fooshed away in a poof of green flame, Draco followed.
They ended up in The Leaky Cauldron where Harry seemed to know the bartender. Draco and Harry quickly walked out into muggle London.
"Ummm, Draco?" came Harry's voice from just behind him. Draco turned.
"When I was still with the Dursley's I uh, read about this club in the newspaper. Can we perhaps, go there?"
"Do you know where it is?" Draco asked, trying to sound annoyed, but really not being able to resist Harry's sad puppy dog eyes.
"Yea, but I don't think we can walk there. We could take a cab?" Draco just sighed, walked over and hailed a sleek black cab. They hopped in.
"Where to," the cabbie grunted.
"Umm, Déshabillé." Draco raised an eyebrow at that, as did the cabdriver. A short cab ride later, in which Harry seemed to end up bumping into Draco whenever the cab turned, they were there. The line into the club moved rather quickly and the boys got in with no problems.
And that's when Draco realized why this club looked so funny.
"You brought me to a gay club???" Draco exclaimed. Well, he thought, this certainly does have possibilities.
"Well, if you haven't noticed by now. I'm gay, so a gay club would be a natural place to appear," he replied simply, then turning and walking quickly away. Draco shrugged, followed Harry and squeezed his way onto the dance floor. A rather attractive man in front of him yelled over the music, asking for a dance. Draco nodded. After a few minutes, Draco was caught in the music. He was paying attention to nothing except the beat and the swaying bodies around him
And then the music slowed, and Draco's eyes slid shut. He felt hands encircle his waist, and on impulse, Draco put his hands around the other's neck. Their bodies pressed together, forming one solid warmth. It was like sliding into a warm bath for Draco, and all his barriers dropped away. He felt like crying and laughing. His head was resting on the other mans forehead and he so wanted to open his eyes, wanted to see green eyes burning back into his. But he couldn't, because, what if it wasn't Harry? It would crush him
"Draco." He felt the slight brush of warm breath and his eyes flew open and a smile lit up with face.
Harry, hi Harry, was the one holding him. He barely had time to comprehend this before Harry's lips crashed into his. It was perfection, their lips, mouths, and minds melded. Draco realized what the strange things he had been feeling for Harry meant. But then Harry's hand found its way up Draco's shirt and his brain malfunctioned into white sparks.
He didn't know how long they danced like that, alternating between being fused at the mouth or the hands. Eventually they became away of their surroundings. They were alone in the middle of the dance floor, as if no one wanted to intrude on their rather private emotions. Harry and Draco smiled sheepishly at each other and those who had made space for them.
They walked out of the club, hands still connected, not wanting to drop that life ling. They decided to walk, wishing to spend as much time as possible in the moment.
It started to drizzle, and the boys stopped to get ice cream, trying to wait out the rain.
Sitting in the brightly lit ice cream shop, looking at the dark, damp streets of London, everything looked rather foggy to Draco. Everything had hazy edges and strange contrasts. Except Harry. Harry was sharply focused, standing out in hyper-contrast to Draco's eyes. Strawberry mixed with chocolate when Draco leaned over to steal a rather chilled kiss from Harry.
When the rain didn't abate, they decided to risk melting and brave the shower. By the time they got back to the Leaky Cauldron they were both soaked, but still rather too dazed to care.
As they flooed back from the pub, the only thing that truly register with Draco was that his hand felt rather lonely. They arrived at the Manor, said goodnight to Narcissa, who was sitting up reading, and ran upstairs.
That was a new experience for Draco. Harry followed behind him, and Draco had the pleasure of feeling sliding up his back, down his arms, lightly caressing his bottom. It became a truly arduous task to not just stop and ravish Harry on the stairs. Finally they made it up the stairs and down the corridor to Draco's room.
Once inside, Draco slammed Harry up against the wall, plundering that mouth to his hearts content. But it wasn't content, he wanted more.
A/N: Okay, so coming up, a tiff, and then well, what you've all been waiting for.or at least what I've been waiting for. So do review, good or bad, I love to hear from you. And/or drop me a line at bookworm9889@yahoo.com or IM me at SaucyWench409, have a truly stupendous day.
"We need to do something, I'm going insane," Draco said in a rather whiney voice. It was the next night and they had been sitting in the two armchairs his room possessed. That in its self wasn't so bad, but for the last half hour Potter had been staring at him. Not just a casual glance, no Harry was staring at Draco as if he were a work of art. It was like Harry was memorizing Draco's every detail. Draco was trying in vain to look any where but that wasn't occupied by Harry. But, as he looked around he saw so many intimate details that were just so.Harry. This trunk was open and several shirts and robes were slowly making their escape. "Harry's" side of the bed was rumpled and unmade, while Draco's was smoothed out. Draco glimpsed one of Harry's shoes peeking out from under the bed, and the other under the armoire. So many pieces of Harry had worked themselves seamlessly into his life. How had he let this happen?
"Yes, we really do," Harry replied, making Draco shiver and blush slightly at the tone of his voice. That voice gave him an idea.
"Okay, we're going out. Let's go to a club. We can floo to Diagon Alley and then go to London. I know a couple of clubs there, and I have an ID that'll get us in."
"You? In a muggle club? Wouldn't you be afraid they might rub off on you?" Harry snorted.
"Well, I haven't died from exposure to you yet, and I figure a Golden Boy is worse than most muggles. So, I'll be alright." Draco got up and made for the door.
"Hey! Where are you going?" Harry said, sounding slightly worried.
"I'm going to tell Mother what we're doing. Don't fret, Potter, I'll be back shortly," he said, chuckling, and left the room.
It was easier than expected to convince Narcissa to let them out. All he had to do was hint that it would help in gaining Harry's trust and she thrust some muggle money, from Lord knows where, and told him to have a good time. He was back upstairs in less than fifteen minutes.
"Okay Potter, go shower and I'll pick out your clothes."
"What? Hell if I'm going to let you choose what I wear. I am not a child."
"Yes, but you seem to be completely color blind as well as having absolutely no fashion sense. Just wear the clothes; I'm not going out with a loser." Harry stomped off to the bathroom, muttering as he went. Draco was left with a sense of victory.
He walked over to Harry's trunks. One peek probed that it was as Draco had feared; Harry had absolutely nothing suitable for clubbing, or even leaving the house. Draco walked back over to his own wardrobe. What to put Harry in. Draco had a nice sized collection of muggle clothing that he wore specifically for clubbing. Reaching out he slowly began to choose.
A soon as Harry vacated the bathroom, Draco jumped in. Harry's other clothes were lying all over the floor. Draco grabbed them and put them into a slightly neater pile. As he moved them, he could smell Harry. Harry smelled like Christmas. And under that a slight cologne smell. When had Harry put cologne on? Noticing the comforting feelings these smells gave him, and the fact that he was now clutching them to his chest in a rather un-Malfoyish way, Draco threw them down quickly. He removed his clothing and got into the shower. Taking as small an amount of time as possible, Draco washed. Rather soon he was toweled dry and pushing open the door to his room.
He dropped his brush with a gasp. Harry was.was so.
"Gah," he chocked. Harry turned away from the mirror slowly, revolving on the balls of his feet as if on display. Draco's brain was mush, was that the same outfit he had chosen? The jeans looked made for Harry, the worn looking patches perfectly accentuating his legs. Then came the turquoise shirt, the greener muted turquoise brought out Harry's eyes. It also drew the eye to the lightly tanned skin showing in the v that Harry had left unbuttoned. Harry had obviously used some of Draco's gel and spiked/tousled his hair, making almost a mini-mo hawk. He looked dangerous? Sexy? Insane? Draco didn't know. But what his mind didn't want to register, his body did. Fuck, he'd gotten an erection just from looking at Harry. How was he going to hide that?
He was concentrating so hard on his own thoughts; he didn't notice Harry slowly walking towards him. Harry walked carefully, as if stalking a small animal. Harry was directly in front of him before Draco was truly aware.
"So, does this mean I have your approval?" Harry asked, licking his lips as he glanced downwards. Fuck, fuck, fuck, Draco couldn't think, didn't want to think, but had to.
"N-n-I-I guess so," Draco stuttered, finding it very difficult to talk with Harry a minimum amount of centimeters away. Harry reached out and followed a ling of drying water down Draco's chest, catching up with the drop before it slid into the towel. Draco shivered; he wanted Harry's hands on him. And just as Harry's other hand began to rise, the moment was ruined.
"Draco, Harry? What are you doing? I thought you were leaving," came Narcissa's voice from behind the door.
"Uh, yes Mother, we'll be going shortly." Instead of replying, they heard heels clicking away. Draco quickly turned away from Harry and grabbed his clothes. He headed back into the bathroom, not wanting to deal with this new Harry quite yet.
He had chosen a pair of black leather pants and a rather tight tee-shirt in gray. The pants were new; Draco had seen them in a muggle shop and bought them immediately. He had slight, okay not slight, huge problems getting them on, and they creaked quite a bit when he walked, but they definitely had the desired effect. Harry's jaw dropped when Draco came back into the room.
Without stopping to analyze the things he was feeling for Harry right then, Draco quickly grabbed his gel, spiked his hair and added a silver and leather bracelet. Trying to ignore his arousal, Draco walked to the fire place and grabbed the floo powder. Harry grabbed some and fooshed away in a poof of green flame, Draco followed.
They ended up in The Leaky Cauldron where Harry seemed to know the bartender. Draco and Harry quickly walked out into muggle London.
"Ummm, Draco?" came Harry's voice from just behind him. Draco turned.
"When I was still with the Dursley's I uh, read about this club in the newspaper. Can we perhaps, go there?"
"Do you know where it is?" Draco asked, trying to sound annoyed, but really not being able to resist Harry's sad puppy dog eyes.
"Yea, but I don't think we can walk there. We could take a cab?" Draco just sighed, walked over and hailed a sleek black cab. They hopped in.
"Where to," the cabbie grunted.
"Umm, Déshabillé." Draco raised an eyebrow at that, as did the cabdriver. A short cab ride later, in which Harry seemed to end up bumping into Draco whenever the cab turned, they were there. The line into the club moved rather quickly and the boys got in with no problems.
And that's when Draco realized why this club looked so funny.
"You brought me to a gay club???" Draco exclaimed. Well, he thought, this certainly does have possibilities.
"Well, if you haven't noticed by now. I'm gay, so a gay club would be a natural place to appear," he replied simply, then turning and walking quickly away. Draco shrugged, followed Harry and squeezed his way onto the dance floor. A rather attractive man in front of him yelled over the music, asking for a dance. Draco nodded. After a few minutes, Draco was caught in the music. He was paying attention to nothing except the beat and the swaying bodies around him
And then the music slowed, and Draco's eyes slid shut. He felt hands encircle his waist, and on impulse, Draco put his hands around the other's neck. Their bodies pressed together, forming one solid warmth. It was like sliding into a warm bath for Draco, and all his barriers dropped away. He felt like crying and laughing. His head was resting on the other mans forehead and he so wanted to open his eyes, wanted to see green eyes burning back into his. But he couldn't, because, what if it wasn't Harry? It would crush him
"Draco." He felt the slight brush of warm breath and his eyes flew open and a smile lit up with face.
Harry, hi Harry, was the one holding him. He barely had time to comprehend this before Harry's lips crashed into his. It was perfection, their lips, mouths, and minds melded. Draco realized what the strange things he had been feeling for Harry meant. But then Harry's hand found its way up Draco's shirt and his brain malfunctioned into white sparks.
He didn't know how long they danced like that, alternating between being fused at the mouth or the hands. Eventually they became away of their surroundings. They were alone in the middle of the dance floor, as if no one wanted to intrude on their rather private emotions. Harry and Draco smiled sheepishly at each other and those who had made space for them.
They walked out of the club, hands still connected, not wanting to drop that life ling. They decided to walk, wishing to spend as much time as possible in the moment.
It started to drizzle, and the boys stopped to get ice cream, trying to wait out the rain.
Sitting in the brightly lit ice cream shop, looking at the dark, damp streets of London, everything looked rather foggy to Draco. Everything had hazy edges and strange contrasts. Except Harry. Harry was sharply focused, standing out in hyper-contrast to Draco's eyes. Strawberry mixed with chocolate when Draco leaned over to steal a rather chilled kiss from Harry.
When the rain didn't abate, they decided to risk melting and brave the shower. By the time they got back to the Leaky Cauldron they were both soaked, but still rather too dazed to care.
As they flooed back from the pub, the only thing that truly register with Draco was that his hand felt rather lonely. They arrived at the Manor, said goodnight to Narcissa, who was sitting up reading, and ran upstairs.
That was a new experience for Draco. Harry followed behind him, and Draco had the pleasure of feeling sliding up his back, down his arms, lightly caressing his bottom. It became a truly arduous task to not just stop and ravish Harry on the stairs. Finally they made it up the stairs and down the corridor to Draco's room.
Once inside, Draco slammed Harry up against the wall, plundering that mouth to his hearts content. But it wasn't content, he wanted more.
A/N: Okay, so coming up, a tiff, and then well, what you've all been waiting for.or at least what I've been waiting for. So do review, good or bad, I love to hear from you. And/or drop me a line at bookworm9889@yahoo.com or IM me at SaucyWench409, have a truly stupendous day.
