Hi guys! Still buried under a pile of essay - anachronisms and T. H. White, masculinity in Victorian Gothic fiction, they haunt my dreams - but here are the (hopefully) comic drabbles I wrote for the Ron/Draco drabble-a-thon
Consider them all disclaimed :)Title:
An Enormous TalentWord count:
Ron likes to sing in the shower.Warnings:
This was written for entrenous88
’s prompt “Ron actually has a lovely singing voice.”
Ron shut his eyes against the sting of cheap shampoo and kept singing, enjoying the echoes of his voice around the Quidditch changing rooms; they made his voice sound deep and loud and impressive, like a grown man instead of a seventeen-year-old who couldn’t catch a Quaffle. “Oh I may not be a whiz on the Quidditch pitch, but I’m chased over town by every witch, who knows that I’m a legend in the changing room, because I’ve got an enormous - “
“No need to show off.”
Ron swiped the foam off his face and turned, grinning guiltily. “Hi Draco.”~*~
Thirty-five minutes later, Ron emerged from the changing rooms with Draco pressed against his side. Draco was giggling, and the smell of his damp hair was intoxicating, and -
Ron stopped. “Harry.”
Harry was changed from practice, and fidgeting. “I wanted to talk about strategies for the next game against Slytherin.”
“Please, go right ahead,” Draco said cheerily. “I’ll just stand here unobtrusively until you’ve finished.”
Ron tried to subtly elbow him.
“Shut up, Malfoy,” Harry scowled, reddening. “Don’t think I don’t know what you were doing in there.”
Ron blushed while Draco gave his dirtiest grin. “What ever do you mean?”~*~
“You were - with him! - distracting him.”
“I was not,” said Draco. Ron started praying that soon this conversation would end. Or that Hermione would come. “Ron was distracting me
from my dastardly spying on Gryffindors’ Quidditch practice. He was in the shower - “
“Singing,” Draco finished. “Ron actually has a lovely singing voice.”
“He’s got an enormous talent,” Draco said, grinning as Harry got paler and paler. “Really enjoyable, it goes so deep. You should ask him to show you some time.”
“Hey! My talents are only for you.”
“I know.” Draco kissed him.Title:
They Did Not Cover This In Teacher TrainingWord count:
Severus Snape is not paid enough for this.Warnings:
sex switchAuthor’s Notes:
This was written for ellensmithee
’s prompt potions accident
Severus was in a bad mood. He was often in a bad mood, but generally he kept his students cowed enough not to push him.
This particular class of fifth years, however, involved one boy confident in Severus’ favouritism, and another too furious to retain what few brains he had. Said boys were currently snarling at each other over their cauldrons.
“Sod off, Malfoy, it’s got nothing to do with you - “
“Wanting to keep your dangerous liasons with Potter private, then?”
“Just because you’ve got no real friends - “
Malfoy moved like a striking snake, throwing something, and Weasley’s cauldron exploded.~*~
Screams burst from the class at the noise: today’s potion wasn’t even noxious, unlike Malfoy, but paranoia generally served students well around exploding cauldrons.
Severus merely sighed and waited for the smoke to dissipate.
When it did, Weasley was still standing there, gaping but himself. He did, however, look rather more like his sister.
“I’m going to kill
“Mmm,” Malfoy responded, staring.
Severus wondered if going to Azkaban for Death Eating would have been so much worse than teaching adolescents magic.
“Go and borrow a bra, Weasley, before Mr Malfoy’s eyes fall out of his head.”Title:
Vertical DesireWord count:
Malfoy teaches Ron about the vertical expression of a horizontal desire.Author’s Notes:
This was written for entrenous88
’s prompt ballroom dancing
“Long, arduous, painful weeks of practice have yielded a passable waltz, Weasley. True, my toes may never be the same again - ”
“They can get more painful, you know,” Ron felt his ears go red. Just because stupid Malfoy could stand there in pale grey robes and look all cool and long-limbed while Ron was overheated and clumsy, and could let Ron lead so easily like dancing any way should be easy -
“But you’re there with the waltz. Enough for the Ministry, anyway.”
“I am? So we’re finished?” Ron was almost pleased at the thought of not seeing Malfoy any more.~*~
“No. I’m teaching you the tango.”
Ron blinked. “I. Oh. Well.”
Malfoy snorted. “Eloquent as ever. Dancing should suit you: it’s communication without speech.” He poked Ron’s arms until Ron lifted them, allowing Malfoy to slip into Ron’s (anxious, slightly sweaty, mortifyingly turned on) embrace. “Your body speaks for you.”
Malfoy began instructing Ron on how to move. He was a little flushed but composed and oh-so-elegant. Ron resented it: resented how Malfoy could move with him easily. He trusted his weight to Ron’s arms as though it was automatic for him to believe that Ron wouldn’t let him fall.~*~
“Isn’t this - ”Ron’s breath hitched as Malfoy slid backwards, and Ron’s leg went further between his thighs - “the one they call the vertical expression of a...” Malfoy came upright again, panting a little, his face close to Ron’s. “Horizontal desire?”
A smile flashed on Malfoy’s pale face, and he pushed Ron backwards. Ron hit the marble wall with a soft oof
, and Malfoy followed him instantly. Malfoy pressed his body against Ron’s, his eyes bright, and Ron felt his arousal.
Malfoy licked his lips. Ron considered licking them too.
“Who said it had to be horizontal?”Title:
Creature of the NightWord count:
Even being a vampire hasn’t made a dent in Weasley’s essential wholesomeness. Probably.Warnings:
This was written for teenageworrier
's prompt vampire
Draco sniggered. “You’re a vampire?”
“I am,” Weasley said coolly.
“A vampire with freckles
?” Draco burst out laughing. “Your swooshy black cape doesn’t even fit!”
“I got it second-hand,” Weasley mumbled, fidgeting.
Draco burst into fresh peals of laughter. Which tailed off when he noticed Weasley was staring at him with unsettling focus, and that Weasley’s fangs were visible between those distracting lips.
“You want me to prove I’m a good vampire?” Weasley said, stepping forward. Draco took a step backwards without thinking, then cursed himself. Weasley smiled, exposing his fangs. “Maybe I should show you my big, healthy Weasley appetite.”
Even being a vampire hadn’t made a dent in Weasley’s essential wholesomeness, Draco told himself, trying to ignore his racing heart. He should not be hitting Draco’s vampire kink in any way at all. He wasn’t tall, dark or handsome - well, he wasn’t dark, anyway -
“I can smell arousal, you know,” murmured Weasley.
Draco gave him one frightened glance, then fled.
Weasley caught him immediately, throwing him against a wall. “Hooligan! I’ll be bruised later.”
“You certainly will be.” Weasley’s bright blue eyes had slitted pupils, and they were watching Draco’s pulse jump in his neck.
Draco shut his eyes. The rasping sound of his breath only emphasised that Weasley wasn’t breathing at all. “Are you... you wouldn’t kill me.”
“Certainly not,” Weasley agreed. Draco felt the slight, shuddery scrape of a fang down the sensitive skin of his neck. Weasley’s tongue flickered out to taste his skin for a moment. “Might bite you, though.”
Draco opened his eyes. “You can’t - !”
He gave one long groan, going limp in Weasley’s arms, as Weasley sank his fangs into Draco’s throat.
Draco raged at himself inside: swooning in Weasley’s arms! He was no pallid blond virgin. Well, not a virgin, anyway. But the bite was blinding, erotic, agonising - and his legs were parting.
Weasley slid his thigh between Draco’s, rubbing it against Draco’s hard cock. Draco wheezed, moaning and clutching at Weasley’s shoulders helplessly as Weasley rubbed and sucked and brought Draco inescapably to orgasm.
Weasley withdrew his teeth, drawing another pained gasp from Draco.
“See? I found you on a dark night and bit you and you came because of my dark sexual power. I am a great vampire!”
Silence, except for Draco’s laboured breathing.
“I am!” insisted Weasley. He poked Draco. “I am!”