Another story I've written up for the Game of Drarry fest/competition on Discord. My prompt this time was: Write a Drarry fic of 648-1063 words following this prompt: Narrated from the POV of a character other than Harry or Draco.
This was inspired by the opening scene of the movie When a Man Loves a Woman. It's an old 1994 film with Meg Ryan and Andy Garcia. It's NOT a comedy, but this scene is. I hope you enjoy. 💛💛
On the Pull
The club was just perfect on Thursday nights. There were plenty of men to choose from, but not so many that you couldn't hear the person you were talking to.
And Julian was definitely there to choose a man.
It'd been nearly three weeks since he'd called off his little arrangement with Simon, and he was in the mood for a change. Maybe someone a little more compact this time. Simon had been tall and willowy with a fair complexion. Julian was in the mood for something different.
Like maybe that bloke at the bar, sipping some whisky. Oh, yes, he looked like just the thing.
Julian slowly made his way through the crowd, greeting a few acquaintances and apologising as he bumped into people, but his attention didn't really leave the man.
Dark hair, check. Broad shoulders and thick arms, like he wasn't afraid to do some heavy lifting. Oh, definitely, check. Julian could think of some heavy lifting he'd like the bloke to do. The man's skin was a golden colour, making Julian question his heritage a bit. Mediterranean, maybe? It didn't matter because the idea of running his own pale fingers across it made Julian very interested indeed.
The last moments as he approached the bar, the fates deigned to play along and a seat opened next to the man. Julian sat down.
The bartender gestured for Julian to wait, so he had the perfect excuse. He looked to the side and met a pair of startling, green eyes. Wow. Closer up, Julian realised he'd been deceived. This wasn't a man, it was a god. He was gorgeous.
"What are you drinking?" Julian asked, giving the god his most charming smile. It was a good one, he knew. He practised it regularly, and Simon always said it was what initially drew him in.
The god smiled. "Johnny Walker Black."
Julian nodded. "Not bad. I haven't seen you here before. I'm Julian."
"Harry," the god said, offering his hand with a beautiful smile. "It's a nice place. Good music."
"Agreed." Julian settled in, turning his stool to talk directly to Harry. There was just enough light for him to see a strange scar above Harry's eyebrow, but it only made the man look rugged. Not that he needed help to look rugged with his faded jeans, black t-shirt, and shadowed jaw. He was exactly what Julian was in the mood for.
The bartender came up and waited expectantly. "Two of what he's having," he said, his voice loud enough to be heard over the noise. He looked at Harry. "Mind if I buy you another drink?"
Harry raised an eyebrow. "Shouldn't you have asked before you ordered one?"
"Well, I didn't want to hold Bernie up. He looked like he was in a hurry."
"You know the bartender, then? You're a regular?" Harry asked, a smirk on his face. "Do you just come to try to pull or are you here with friends?"
"Can't it be both?" Julian was enjoying the flirting, laying a hand on Harry's arm. "Besides, I'm always up to meet new friends."
Harry coughed, but it sounded like it might be a laugh. "Right. Well, I'm not interested in new friends tonight, Julian, but thank you."
He didn't look irritated, so Julian thought he'd give it one last go. "Are you sure?" He ran his finger along Harry's forearm. "I'm quite…friendly."
"Excuse me," another man's voice came from Harry's other side. "Are you Arnold?"
Harry turned. There was a beautiful blond man taking the other barstool. "Uh, no. I'm Harry."
"Are you sure? I was supposed to meet someone named Arnold and he's described as dark and gorgeous. I assumed it had to be you." He leaned around and inserted himself between Harry and the bar.
Julian rolled his eyes. That was the worst line, and it was delivered in that posh, rich guy accent. Not to mention how he was crowding in like that. There was no way Harr—
"Oh, gorgeous, huh?" Harry sat back, giving the blond some room, his eyes lighting up. "Well, what makes you think I'm not a better catch than this Arnold?"
"You'd have to prove it. I can't just take anyone home with me when I was expecting Arnold."
Julian felt his jaw drop. Take him home? As Julian had just learned, Harry was not that easy.
Harry ran his hand along his jaw, scratching lightly at whiskers. The blond was watching the path of Harry's fingers hungrily, and Julian wanted to throw his drink at him. "I'm very flexible," Harry finally countered. "And I have incredible upper-body strength."
"Can you sing?"
"Sing?"
"Arnold can sing like a Puffskein."
Harry looked like he was trying not to laugh out loud, whatever a Puffskein was.
"No, I can't sing."
"Well then…" The blond started to turn away.
"Wait!"
He turned back, blond eyebrow raised expectantly.
"I bake."
"You bake."
"Like Paul Hollywood."
"Well, now that's something." The blond leaned in. "I love...baking."
Julian was waiting on it. Any moment Harry was going to push the man away, laughing at this ridiculous attempt.
But instead, Harry reached up and sunk his hands into the mass of blond hair, pulling the other man to him. Their lips met and the kiss was all lips and tongue and heavy breaths. The blond stranger crawled onto Harry's lap, wrapping his tailored trousered legs around Harry's thick thighs.
"Oi!" the bartender yelled. "Take it home, boys!"
Harry pulled back, grinning. "Missed you, love. Did the kids give you any problems?"
"Not one. Mum has them already engrossed in a game. They barely noticed me leaving."
Julian growled. "Oh, for fuck's sake. You could have just said you were married, mate."
Harry's green eyes sparkled, but it was the blond who spoke. "Where's the fun in that? Thanks for the entertainment, though. I'm Draco. No hard feelings?"
Julian rolled his eyes and turned back to the crowd, ignoring the men next to him. Maybe he could find that Arnold.
Finis
