Title: Baby, It's Cold Outisde
Rating: M, to be safe
Summary: Harry needs to leave; Draco has very different ideas. One-shot inspired by Loesser's famous winter holiday song, "Baby, It's Cold Outside."
Copyright: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling, and the song, "Baby, It's Cold Outside" belongs to Frank Loesser. These works of art do not and will never belong to me.
Author's Notes: My first fanfic! I've never actually written anything like this, so this is all very new to me. I'm sure there are many flaws, but I hope it turned out okay. Enjoy, and please review!
"I really can't stay."
Harry gave Draco an exasperated look and wondered what it would take to convince him that he did, indeed, need to leave. The Weasleys would be quite upset if he missed Christmas dinner – he had already missed several holiday dinners because of his boyfriend's incessant begging and manipulative ways.
"But Harry, it's cold outside," Draco said as he put on his best "worried" face.
Harry sighed. He had made it almost halfway to the door before Draco grabbed his arm and pleaded for him to stay.
"Draco, I've got to go away." Harry moved closer to the door.
"But it's cold outside," Draco insisted.
Harry almost rolled his eyes. Does he really believe he's making the point he thinks he's making? True, security would prevent Harry from apparating or using the floo network to directly enter the Burrow. He would need to get pass the wards, which, yes, would force him to be outside for a bit, but definitely did not warrant this persistent worry. Being in the cold for a few minutes did not leave cause for Draco to act like he would freeze to death.
"Look, this evening has been," Harry began as Draco smiled hopefully and took his hand, "very nice, but the Weasleys are going to worry if – "
"Your hands are just like ice. Why don't you let me warm them for you?" Draco suggested innocently.
Although he was actually fairly cold, Harry frowned slightly at being cut off, "Draco, I really need to leave; I can't miss another…" He stopped short when Draco pushed and pinned him against the wall. He then slithered his arm around his waist and pressed his body against Harry's.
"Beautiful, what's your hurry?" Draco whispered into Harry's ear, his hot breath trailing down Harry's neck and causing him to – ironically – shiver.
Harry felt blood rising to his cheeks, forcing his face to emulate a reddish glow. Somehow, his hands found their way to Draco's chest, and Harry could feel a familiar stirring between his legs. Draco certainly proved that he could warm Harry's hands – Harry felt as if his body was on fire. Well, curse this body for always betraying him.
"Well maybe just half a drink more," Harry said, half wanting to stay and half wanting to get Draco to let go of him so things did not get carried away. He supposed he did have a few minutes to spare – he did not really need to arrive early and help set the table, although the Weasleys would have preferred it.
Draco flashed him a smile and whispered, "Why don't you put some music on while I pour?" before releasing his hold on Harry, yet taking care to brush lightly against the slight bulge in Harry's pants. Gasping at the touch, Harry made a mental note to not underestimate Draco. Why did the man need to be so damn irresistible?
Shaking himself out of his dazed state, Harry walked back into the living room and made his way to the inviting sofa, which was very conveniently placed in front of the fireplace. He lifted his wand to turn on the record player, relaxing into the sofa as he listened to the rather soothing Christmas music. The warmth of the fire, the music, and the sofa – god the sofa – it was almost too comfortable. Bastard must have charmed the sofa before I got to it. Harry closed his eyes and smiled to himself as he realized that Draco would really do everything he could to get him to stay. Stubborn idiot. Harry knew he could not stay, but honestly, had he not been required to attend this dinner, he would be more than happy to grant Draco his wish and spend the evening with him. Harry was so focused on his thoughts that he did not notice Draco enter the room and nearly jumped when he felt Draco sit unnecessarily close to him.
Draco handed Harry a glass of wine and then raised his own glass, "Cheers to us." He smiled almost, as Harry noticed, mischievously, before touching their glasses together. Clink.
"Cheers," Harry replied, and they both happily sipped their drinks before placing their drinks down on the table.
Harry then stiffened – in both senses of the word – when he felt Draco suddenly place a hand on his thigh and move, if possible, even closer to him.
"People might start to think –" he began.
"Baby, it's bad out there," Draco slurred into Harry's ear as his hand moved painfully slow upwards.
The temperature must have magically risen, because Harry felt, no, was certain his body was on fire. God, what's in this drink? Trying hard to maintain some sort of composure and not give into his burning desire to just grab the man and have his way with him, Harry managed to choke out, "The Weasleys will be suspicious."
Harry was really trying, but he started to feel like he was fighting a losing battle. No one knew of their relationship, and it did not help that every time this happened, Harry was forced to think up of a clever excuse for the Weasleys. He was sure that they either thought he was avoiding them – and thus, he must clearly be upset with them – or were beginning to get suspicious. In any case, the Weasleys would not take no for an answer again, and frankly, he was running out of ideas.
However, it seemed that Draco must not have heard him or chose to ignore his comment, because he, whose hand did not stop moving, simply whispered, "Gosh, your lips look delicious," and then pressed his lips to Harry's throat.
"Ron's – ah," Harry failed to fight back a moan when Draco sucked at his pulse point, "looking forward to seeing me," he finished.
Draco once again pretended not to hear Harry as he pulled away from Harry's neck and proceeded to place a chaste kiss on Harry's lips. His face was so close to Harry's that Harry swore he could feel Draco smile and say, "Oh, your lips are delicious."
Feeling a bit overwhelmed, Harry pulled away slightly before saying, "I've got to go."
If he was frustrated, Draco did not show it. It seems he believed that he would definitely win this. He moved his mouth back next to Harry's throat, and somehow was able to dramatically, yet seductively, pronounce, "Harry, you'll freeze out there. Think of my lifelong sorrow," he placed another kiss on Harry's neck, "if you caught pneumonia," his hand edged ever more closely towards its target, "and died."
Had Harry not been, well, preoccupied, he would have laughed at Draco's seriously flawed logic. Before Harry could muster up some kind of response though, Draco's hand suddenly found the very obvious bulge in Harry's jeans. He smirked and then pressed before moving his hand slowly up and down.
Oh, fuck. Finally giving in, Harry laced his fingers through Draco's hair and pulled him in for an open-mouthed kiss. His tongue found its way into Draco's mouth, and this time, Harry definitely felt the moan Draco elicited. When they broke apart for air, Harry could no longer think straight and was extremely surprised when he managed to say, "It really is cold outside."
The Weasleys were going to kill him.