Work Text:
"Invite whoever you want, Harry. I'm tired of discussing this. It's impossible to plan a dinner party if you refuse to tell me whether or not you're bringing a guest. Just bring one, and stop waffling about it." Hermione slammed her book closed and glared at Harry. He thought it would have been a more effective glare if she didn't have an ink smudge on her nose.
"Invite whoever I want? Whoever? No matter who that is?" Harry pushed his glasses up his nose and blinked at Hermione, as innocently as he could muster. "Fine, then. Just remember later, you said it."
---
Harry settled his head on Draco's thigh and groaned, worn out, exhausted, knackered, shagged out. He snickered to himself on that one as strong fingers threaded through his hair. "Stop drinking so much coffee," he muttered, turning his head to get Draco to reach just the right spot. "Tastes terrible."
"You're the one who insists on swallowing. Told you, I'm not changing my habits to satisfy yours." He shifted in the bed and exhaled with a hum of satiation. "Now, you only do that without prompting when you want something from me. Thank god you weren't in Slytherin, actually. You have no sense of subtlety whatsoever."
"Says the man who used to dress up like a Dementor."
Draco smacked the back of Harry's skull lightly. "That was once, and I was young."
Harry thought about dragging it out, but the last thing he wanted was a sulking Malfoy. Those were even worse than smug Malfoys. "Come to Hermione's dinner party with me. I've been ordered to bring a guest."
Draco went still and Harry cringed. Too soon? Too fast? Too much.
"I'll consider it." Harry blinked against Draco's leg as those long fingers prodded down his spine and a long cock prodded at his cheek. "If you do a little something for me."
---
"This is ridiculous, Potter. I've changed my mind. I'm going home. I can't believe I put on a tie for this."
"Shut up and quit whinging. You love any excuse to fancy up and you know it."
"This is not fancy. This is a Weasley dinner party. By the way, if your ex-girlfriend attempts to stab me with a fork over the cheese course, I will be very displeased."
Harry snorted. "Yeah. That won't happen. Primarily because this is a Weasley dinner party, and there's no courses."
Draco looked horrified. Harry couldn't resist. He shoved Draco up against the wall beside the door, knocking his own glasses askew in the ferocity of the snog, and had one hand locked in Draco's hair with the other down Draco's trousers when the door opened. "--thought I heard someone out Harry James Potter!"
Draco looked over Harry's shoulder and gave a winning smile. "With Draco Lucius Malfoy. Could you close the door and give us ten minutes?"
---
"You owe me." Harry stirred his tea and glared at Draco. "You owe me big."
"Hardly my fault that your friends assumed you were bringing a woman to dinner. You clearly didn't tell them about me before." Draco was attempting to sound wounded over that, Harry could tell.
"You clearly didn't need to spend the entire dinner needling everyone about me having a secret and you knowing the secret. That was just rude. Served you right that Hermione poured wine in your lap."
"About that." Draco straddled Harry's chair and bent down to stare directly into his eyes. "You're cleaning it up."
"No."
"Yes."
"No."
Draco kissed him, deep and fast, with hands groping and hips thrusting, and Harry surrendered. "Yes."
"Good." Draco smirked at him and stood, unfastening his trousers. "Should taste better than coffee, at any rate. That was a good wine."
