possum (playpossum) wrote,

Fic (HP Harry/Draco: "Shall I go out with a pillowcase over my head, then?")

Title: "Shall I go out with a pillowcase over my head, then?"
Author: playpossum
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Harry/Draco

In response to: taniazed's "coming out request" on fic_on_demand.

“Well, you see...” Harry was clearly highly discomfited; one hand kept reaching up to pull his unruly hair out of his eyes—wherein it promptly fell back over his glasses—and his gaze continuously darted, rather desperately, to where Draco was sitting under the shade of a ridiculously huge red umbrella, cool and collected and sipping a margarita with his legs casually crossed at the ankles. “You see, Malfoy—no, no, I mean, Draco, Draco decided...you see...no, wait, we decided...”

Colin Creevey was nodding his head enthusiastically, as if he wholly understood Harry's garbled run-on sentences. The latest Speed-o-Quill was scratching just as enthusiastically on a parchment that was getting interestingly long, considering the fact that Harry had barely managed to get anything more than a furious blush and less than twenty stuttered words out. Draco managed to refrain from rolling his eyes. Barely.

How did the man expect to live up to his name of the savior of the wizarding world when he couldn't even give a private interview in a stylish manner? Really, sometimes Harry Potter was too much.

“We. Uh. Two.” Harry's expression had become a rather contorted mix of determination and awkward shyness. It was endearing, sort of, Draco thought, finally putting his drink down and standing, and dusting off his gray linen slacks. Endearing especially if one had struggled with the Man-Who-Lived's reticence towards the public eye for years, now, and had had enough of making “Shall I go out with a pillowcase over my head, then?” not-jokes, that never failed to sail right over Harry's head. Endearing, really, if one considered that the agony that Harry was currently going through willingly was due, in no small part, to one's judicious persistence.

“We. We.” Harry appeared to be stuck on a loop, as Draco sauntered over.

Over the top of Colin's head, they locked eyes for a long, long moment.

And then Draco deliberately, slowly, drew the tip of his tongue over his lips, and raised an eyebrow.


The quill screeched to a halt, and Colin blinked, and Harry was breathing as though he'd run a marathon, face bright red and rueful as he held out a hand to Draco, beckoning him to come over.

And Draco couldn't help it.

He burst into laughter. He laughed so hard that he thought he might have cried, and the look of startled indignation and fond exasperation on Harry's face only made him laugh even harder.

Really, sometimes Harry Potter was too much.
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