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Traditions

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Harry lounged negligently in the doorway, watching as his lover adjusted the red bow tie, wanting nothing more than to slowly undress the lithe body hidden beneath layers of expensive silk and wool.

There was nothing Harry loved more than the sight of Draco spread out before him, the long limbs and pale skin bathed with moonlight, waiting to be taken to the stars and beyond.

Their eyes met and held in the mirror.

"Party first," Draco said with a knowing smirk. "Then we can fulfill whatever erotic fantasy you were just enjoying."

"How about we skip the party and get right to the fantasy part?" Harry asked as he closed the space between them, brushing aside the shoulder-length blond hair and placing a kiss behind Draco’s ear.

"Much as I’d love to," Draco said as he fought the urge to give in to Harry’s request, "we promised that we’d actually show up this time."

"It’s not the first time we wouldn’t have kept a promise to them. Why break tradition?" Harry asked as he slid his arms around Draco’s waist, his right hand stroking the hardening flesh he knew he would find waiting for him.

Draco was torn between focusing on the hand slowly caressing him through the pleated trousers, the lips teasing the soft skin of his neck, and the need to do right by Harry. His friends had been put off too many times to count, and for once, Draco was actually looking forward to the New Year’s Eve party they had been invited to.

The feel of teeth nipping at his earlobe had him gasping and rethinking his decision.

Why break tradition, indeed?