Dear drummer who lives in the room above mine,
I hate you. I especially hate you because you apparently never sleep, so you’re drumming now and yet I KNOW you’ll wake me at seven tomorrow. Everybody in this flat hates you. I am so glad that after Saturday, I’ll never have to hear you again!
Also? You’re a crap drummer.
The boys belong to JKR, even though I’m often much nicer to them than she is.Author’s Notes:
Another one written (late) for hd100
’s challenge flirt
as part of my catch-up. The first time I’ve had an idea in the shower! I feel all Proper Writer now. :)
Draco was blamelessly doing paperwork in his office when Harry Potter burst in. All right, he didn’t exactly burst
in – he came in quietly and shut the door behind him – but he was so vital, hair bristling and green eyes bright, that it felt
like bursting. He’d probably just come from capturing a dangerous criminal mastermind.
Draco raised an eyebrow, then looked back down at his finance forms.
Potter, being a boorish thug with no manners, ignored this rather obvious hint to leave. Instead, he came over and sat on Draco’s desk
Draco choked on air and outrage. Potter smiled.~*~
“So, Draco, how’ve you been?”
“Excellent, until some idiot sat on my desk!”
Potter smiled. His smile wasn’t gormless: it was slow, and Potter’s eyes held his. Draco’s skin prickled. With discomfort, of course.
“Oh, I’m sure the idiot just wanted a better look at your pretty grey eyes.”
Draco blinked. Potter seemed to take his frozen astonishment as encouragement, because he reached out and stroked Draco’s hair.
“What are you doing?” Draco rapped out.
Potter’s hand cupped Draco’s head. Draco stiffened his back and reminded himself that melting because someone was gently touching his hair was just not on. ~*~
“I’m asking you out. Would you like to go to dinner with me?”
Draco gaped. Potter frowned. “Or... would you like to go to bed with me? Would you prefer that?”
Draco tried very hard not to shrill that he wasn’t that kind of boy, or faint into his inkwell, or nuzzle into Potter’s hand, or do anything else embarrassing.
His mouth was still open. Fuck.
“Of course! I’ve been trying to subtly show my interest but you didn’t seem to notice, so I had to be blatant.”
“Of course I noticed!” Draco spluttered, outraged. “I’m not stupid!”~*~
Potter looked crestfallen, his ridiculous hair drooping like a wilted flower. “Oh. So I suppose you aren’t interested.”
“That’s not what I meant!” Draco blurted, and promptly blushed. “I just... I thought you were teasing me. Pretending to compliment me and things, because nobody would really.”
Potter looked horrified. “Do you think I would that?”
“Not... not really...” Draco thought perhaps he was stupid after all. “I just didn’t think you would...”
“I would. I do.”
Draco paused, then gave Potter a smouldering look. “So... I’ll pick you up around eight?”
Potter blinked, then laughed. “Draco Malfoy, you shameless flirt!”