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Title: Legionis Egeo
Author: me
Pairing: H/D
Rating: PG-13
Summary: It's Harry's special day. (Part of The Arrangement universe)
Warnings: fluffiness ^_~
Disclaimer: The HP characters do not belong to me.
A/N: I know it's too early for Harry's birthday. But it's MY birthday, and I felt like writing fic. ^__^
ETA: Art for this fic by the wonderful![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
susikki! *is ecstatic* ... Love (H/D, rated PG-13)
Also posted on AO3 and skyehawke.
...
Previous parts:
The Arrangement ~ An Evening in August ~ Perfect Potter ~ In Comparison ~ Hypocritical (Hypocritical is f-locked due to rating, and is not especially crucial to the main storyline. It can also be found here.) ~ A Slight Dilemma ~ Table Talk ~ Contract Negotiations
Legionis Egeo
The first thing he noticed, of course, was that his flat was awfully dark.
Harry smiled faintly, covered in the hallway’s shadows. He loosened the buttons on his coat and stripped it off, then reached into one of the pockets and returned his briefcase to its normal size. He could see the gleam of the case’s leather handles as he set it down on the floor. Yellowy light from further inside, glancing weakly off the walls and down the hallway just far enough to show him that the source of the light was hidden. The sitting room, perhaps. Or the kitchen.
He was betting on a candle.
He nearly took his coat with him beyond the hallway, but stopped with a smirk and dropped it in a pile on the floor just where the weak light was strongest. Inordinately satisfying, that. He was sure to be chewed out for it. Damn it if he wasn’t looking forward to the light sniping.
On the kitchen table, just visible through the archway, sat a single tapered candle, flickering merrily and casting the rest of the kitchen into dancing shadows. Harry kicked off his shoes and made his way over, digging his toes into the whispering carpet. Not just a candle then; there was a note beside it, and a delicate antique bottle made of rose-coloured glass. Harry glanced at the folded note and lifted the bottle.
Empty.
The note was simple. Tonight, whatever you wish.
Harry lowered himself into the nearest chair, then summoned a glass from the cupboard, and orange juice. He drank the whole thing in one go, and when he looked up, it was to find Draco leaning silently in the far doorway, barefoot and clothed in simple black trousers that hugged the darkness. His shirt looked soft and undefined in the candlelight. Cream, maybe.
Draco smiled. Ghostly. “Happy birthday.”
Harry turned his chair around to face the other man and smiled back. “You’re up late.”
“Waiting for you.” Draco’s grey eyes lingered on his face. His irises reflected the warm flickers of light. “So. Twenty-nine,” he said lazily. “Getting awfully old, aren’t you?”
“May I remind you that you’re the geriatric one in this relationship?”
Draco’s only answer was a catlike grin.
Harry’s smile widened. He reached back casually and lifted the note off the table. The paper was thick and luxuriant, with fragile-looking bordering. “Rather cryptic gift. I suppose this is meant for me then?”
“Mm-hm.”
Harry took up the bottle next. “And this?” He shook it gently in the air and the glass threw sparks of rainbow light over the walls.
Draco shifted his weight and crossed his arms over his chest. If anything, his smile grew even more secretive. “That was for me.”
Harry glanced at the bottle warily, then narrowed his eyes at Draco. “I don’t remember you having all that many kinks involving potions,” he ventured.
Draco shrugged, an elegant lift of one shoulder. “Never underestimate the form a kink can take. That,” he said, pointing one slender finger at the little bottle, “is the former abode of Legionis Egeo. One guess as to where it is now.”
Harry gazed at Draco for several long seconds. “I’m fairly intrigued about what that means for me,” he answered at last.
Draco stepped away from the door. His teeth flashed brightly in the candlelight. “It means, Harry, that tonight, your every desire takes shape. Tonight, you can have anything." He paused. "Be with anyone.”
Harry could not look away from Draco’s hooded stare. The clock ticked gently in the background, and the light flickered over the other man's body, shaping some of it in gold, letting the rest drift easily into shadow.
“You’ve been scheming again,” Harry stated, feeling slightly… warmer than he had a second ago.
Draco’s eyebrow quirked provocatively. “Oh, for several months, which is, incidentally, how long it takes to acquire such a rare little gem as Legionis. What would you like tonight, Harry? And I do mean all night.”
Draco’s wand appeared in his hand, delicately lifted from somewhere unseen. One sinuous wave and the cream shirt melted away in a wisp, leaving muscles defined by the wavering light and pale skin. Draco’s trousers hung low enough on his hips to promise a good deal more skin to come. Harry found himself staring at the well-known hollows and curves. He pulled his eyes away wistfully. “Surprise me.”
Draco’s grin went outright devilish. He sauntered forward, swaying as he came, then lifted both arms gracefully to take in the entire room. “Fancy auburn tonight, Harry?”
And Draco’s hair darkened, like bronze flowing over silver, slipping, sliding, until the colour was of autumn leaves, thick and perfect. “Dark eyes, perhaps.” And the grey swirled into the warm, rich brown of liquid chocolate. “A little more of a worldly tone…?” A tiny flick of Draco’s wand, and his skin smoothed into the amber-gold of summer, evenly over each muscle.
Harry leaned slowly back in his chair.
Draco smirked at him. “Maybe something to hold onto instead.” His wand alighted just at his temple, and the auburn hair lengthened into a gentle wave over his shoulders. Another flick of his wand, and blue eyes pierced perfectly from a face that… was so different and yet still held the Cheshire grin Harry knew so very well. “I can be that bloke in the pub two nights ago—” and his skin lightened again into olive, his hair slipping into loose black curls, “—or that ravishing blond willow who offered you that threesome last month—” and there he was, eerily graceful with innocent eyes, “—or perhaps the redhead who concluded his licensing contract in my office this evening.”
Harry swallowed unexpectedly at the solid form, the hint of freckles. The added years and the crafty light in deep green eyes.
“I could be a girl, if you fancied it.” Draco moved closer, close enough to close his hands over the armrests of Harry’s chair. He leaned in, inches away. “I could even be you, Harry, if you’re feeling particularly vicarious this evening.”
Draco’s voice, coming from another’s handsome face. Draco’s knowledge behind the lingering touch of another’s fingers over his throat, and drifting tantalisingly nearer to his groin. Harry drew a deep, shaky breath and let it out.
“Anything I want?” he managed.
Draco’s eyes softened, startlingly familiar beyond colour and shape. “Absolutely anything, Harry. For as long as you desire.”
Harry stood slowly, and Draco eased back to let him up. His eyes tracked to Harry’s and held. The faint smirk was detectable, shaping firm jaw and delectably sharp lips. Harry smirked back. He settled a hand on Draco’s left arm and turned to circle him. Draco stood straight, unabashed, shoulders lifting and falling slightly with each inhalation.
“Well.” Harry danced fingers over Draco’s bare chest and let his hand fall. “Since it’s my birthday…” He halted and studied the curve of Draco’s new profile, the sensuous, lengthy arc of his back. “It will have to be the sexiest man I’ve ever seen.”
Draco cocked his head. “Precisely, Potter. Just say the words.”
Harry let his eyes linger over Draco’s wider shoulders. He slid one hand up his left arm again. Leaned in. “Give him a slender build, like yours,” he whispered.
With a twitch of his lips, Draco complied. "Well. Sounds mightily attractive already."
"Oh, he is." Harry continued on his way around, very slowly, letting himself study the body in front of him. He ghosted a hand over the expensive fabric of Draco’s trousers, just across his left thigh. “Short hair. Blond.”
Wheat-blond, kissed by the sun. Harry waited a beat. “Lighter,” he murmured.
Silver flecked. Draco stared straight ahead. It was hard to tell from that angle, but Harry thought the amused smile was still there. He circled around back and slid a hand over Draco’s waist, up over smooth skin to glide across his chest. “Grey eyes.”
Draco swallowed, a weighted sound. It rippled his throat. His breathing deepened.
“Pale skin,” Harry whispered, ghosting his lips over the curve of Draco’s nape. Draco’s breathing became audible. Less controlled. One hand twitched, almost lifting. Almost covering his.
Harry slipped his other arm around Draco’s chest and embraced his warmth, pressing up against his back. He kissed the shoulder before him, sucking softly on bare, unblemished skin. He traced one finger gently across Draco’s torso, a straight, thin line from shoulder to ribs. “And one faint scar,” he said, subdued.
Draco’s hand closed over his, fingers clenching unsteadily. “Harry,” he breathed. His head dropped forward, and Harry eased him closer, smoothing down over his stomach with one hand and inching gently beneath the waistline of Draco’s trousers until he felt the cloaking heat of hidden skin and the silken whorl of hair trailing down. Draco shuddered once, the tiniest tremor. His hand followed over Harry’s until his palm lay against Harry’s wrist.
Harry smiled into Draco’s shoulder. He turned him with a slight nudge, until he met darkened grey eyes. “Happy birthday to me,” he said, very softly.
Draco’s gaze moved over his face, open and exposed. He swallowed again, and Harry longed to kiss his throat, to follow the movement with his mouth until he remembered it through and through all over again. Full lips parted, lips he envisioned every day at work during the hours he couldn’t see them for himself. “And how long… How long would you like this?”
Harry touched his nose to Draco’s. Breathed out gently and brushed his lips in a sensitive, requesting kiss. “For as long as you’re willing.”
~fin~
...
Part 10: The Mishap
Author: me
Pairing: H/D
Rating: PG-13
Summary: It's Harry's special day. (Part of The Arrangement universe)
Warnings: fluffiness ^_~
Disclaimer: The HP characters do not belong to me.
A/N: I know it's too early for Harry's birthday. But it's MY birthday, and I felt like writing fic. ^__^
ETA: Art for this fic by the wonderful
susikki! *is ecstatic* ... Love (H/D, rated PG-13)Also posted on AO3 and skyehawke.
...
Previous parts:
The Arrangement ~ An Evening in August ~ Perfect Potter ~ In Comparison ~ Hypocritical (Hypocritical is f-locked due to rating, and is not especially crucial to the main storyline. It can also be found here.) ~ A Slight Dilemma ~ Table Talk ~ Contract Negotiations
Legionis Egeo
The first thing he noticed, of course, was that his flat was awfully dark.
Harry smiled faintly, covered in the hallway’s shadows. He loosened the buttons on his coat and stripped it off, then reached into one of the pockets and returned his briefcase to its normal size. He could see the gleam of the case’s leather handles as he set it down on the floor. Yellowy light from further inside, glancing weakly off the walls and down the hallway just far enough to show him that the source of the light was hidden. The sitting room, perhaps. Or the kitchen.
He was betting on a candle.
He nearly took his coat with him beyond the hallway, but stopped with a smirk and dropped it in a pile on the floor just where the weak light was strongest. Inordinately satisfying, that. He was sure to be chewed out for it. Damn it if he wasn’t looking forward to the light sniping.
On the kitchen table, just visible through the archway, sat a single tapered candle, flickering merrily and casting the rest of the kitchen into dancing shadows. Harry kicked off his shoes and made his way over, digging his toes into the whispering carpet. Not just a candle then; there was a note beside it, and a delicate antique bottle made of rose-coloured glass. Harry glanced at the folded note and lifted the bottle.
Empty.
The note was simple. Tonight, whatever you wish.
Harry lowered himself into the nearest chair, then summoned a glass from the cupboard, and orange juice. He drank the whole thing in one go, and when he looked up, it was to find Draco leaning silently in the far doorway, barefoot and clothed in simple black trousers that hugged the darkness. His shirt looked soft and undefined in the candlelight. Cream, maybe.
Draco smiled. Ghostly. “Happy birthday.”
Harry turned his chair around to face the other man and smiled back. “You’re up late.”
“Waiting for you.” Draco’s grey eyes lingered on his face. His irises reflected the warm flickers of light. “So. Twenty-nine,” he said lazily. “Getting awfully old, aren’t you?”
“May I remind you that you’re the geriatric one in this relationship?”
Draco’s only answer was a catlike grin.
Harry’s smile widened. He reached back casually and lifted the note off the table. The paper was thick and luxuriant, with fragile-looking bordering. “Rather cryptic gift. I suppose this is meant for me then?”
“Mm-hm.”
Harry took up the bottle next. “And this?” He shook it gently in the air and the glass threw sparks of rainbow light over the walls.
Draco shifted his weight and crossed his arms over his chest. If anything, his smile grew even more secretive. “That was for me.”
Harry glanced at the bottle warily, then narrowed his eyes at Draco. “I don’t remember you having all that many kinks involving potions,” he ventured.
Draco shrugged, an elegant lift of one shoulder. “Never underestimate the form a kink can take. That,” he said, pointing one slender finger at the little bottle, “is the former abode of Legionis Egeo. One guess as to where it is now.”
Harry gazed at Draco for several long seconds. “I’m fairly intrigued about what that means for me,” he answered at last.
Draco stepped away from the door. His teeth flashed brightly in the candlelight. “It means, Harry, that tonight, your every desire takes shape. Tonight, you can have anything." He paused. "Be with anyone.”
Harry could not look away from Draco’s hooded stare. The clock ticked gently in the background, and the light flickered over the other man's body, shaping some of it in gold, letting the rest drift easily into shadow.
“You’ve been scheming again,” Harry stated, feeling slightly… warmer than he had a second ago.
Draco’s eyebrow quirked provocatively. “Oh, for several months, which is, incidentally, how long it takes to acquire such a rare little gem as Legionis. What would you like tonight, Harry? And I do mean all night.”
Draco’s wand appeared in his hand, delicately lifted from somewhere unseen. One sinuous wave and the cream shirt melted away in a wisp, leaving muscles defined by the wavering light and pale skin. Draco’s trousers hung low enough on his hips to promise a good deal more skin to come. Harry found himself staring at the well-known hollows and curves. He pulled his eyes away wistfully. “Surprise me.”
Draco’s grin went outright devilish. He sauntered forward, swaying as he came, then lifted both arms gracefully to take in the entire room. “Fancy auburn tonight, Harry?”
And Draco’s hair darkened, like bronze flowing over silver, slipping, sliding, until the colour was of autumn leaves, thick and perfect. “Dark eyes, perhaps.” And the grey swirled into the warm, rich brown of liquid chocolate. “A little more of a worldly tone…?” A tiny flick of Draco’s wand, and his skin smoothed into the amber-gold of summer, evenly over each muscle.
Harry leaned slowly back in his chair.
Draco smirked at him. “Maybe something to hold onto instead.” His wand alighted just at his temple, and the auburn hair lengthened into a gentle wave over his shoulders. Another flick of his wand, and blue eyes pierced perfectly from a face that… was so different and yet still held the Cheshire grin Harry knew so very well. “I can be that bloke in the pub two nights ago—” and his skin lightened again into olive, his hair slipping into loose black curls, “—or that ravishing blond willow who offered you that threesome last month—” and there he was, eerily graceful with innocent eyes, “—or perhaps the redhead who concluded his licensing contract in my office this evening.”
Harry swallowed unexpectedly at the solid form, the hint of freckles. The added years and the crafty light in deep green eyes.
“I could be a girl, if you fancied it.” Draco moved closer, close enough to close his hands over the armrests of Harry’s chair. He leaned in, inches away. “I could even be you, Harry, if you’re feeling particularly vicarious this evening.”
Draco’s voice, coming from another’s handsome face. Draco’s knowledge behind the lingering touch of another’s fingers over his throat, and drifting tantalisingly nearer to his groin. Harry drew a deep, shaky breath and let it out.
“Anything I want?” he managed.
Draco’s eyes softened, startlingly familiar beyond colour and shape. “Absolutely anything, Harry. For as long as you desire.”
Harry stood slowly, and Draco eased back to let him up. His eyes tracked to Harry’s and held. The faint smirk was detectable, shaping firm jaw and delectably sharp lips. Harry smirked back. He settled a hand on Draco’s left arm and turned to circle him. Draco stood straight, unabashed, shoulders lifting and falling slightly with each inhalation.
“Well.” Harry danced fingers over Draco’s bare chest and let his hand fall. “Since it’s my birthday…” He halted and studied the curve of Draco’s new profile, the sensuous, lengthy arc of his back. “It will have to be the sexiest man I’ve ever seen.”
Draco cocked his head. “Precisely, Potter. Just say the words.”
Harry let his eyes linger over Draco’s wider shoulders. He slid one hand up his left arm again. Leaned in. “Give him a slender build, like yours,” he whispered.
With a twitch of his lips, Draco complied. "Well. Sounds mightily attractive already."
"Oh, he is." Harry continued on his way around, very slowly, letting himself study the body in front of him. He ghosted a hand over the expensive fabric of Draco’s trousers, just across his left thigh. “Short hair. Blond.”
Wheat-blond, kissed by the sun. Harry waited a beat. “Lighter,” he murmured.
Silver flecked. Draco stared straight ahead. It was hard to tell from that angle, but Harry thought the amused smile was still there. He circled around back and slid a hand over Draco’s waist, up over smooth skin to glide across his chest. “Grey eyes.”
Draco swallowed, a weighted sound. It rippled his throat. His breathing deepened.
“Pale skin,” Harry whispered, ghosting his lips over the curve of Draco’s nape. Draco’s breathing became audible. Less controlled. One hand twitched, almost lifting. Almost covering his.
Harry slipped his other arm around Draco’s chest and embraced his warmth, pressing up against his back. He kissed the shoulder before him, sucking softly on bare, unblemished skin. He traced one finger gently across Draco’s torso, a straight, thin line from shoulder to ribs. “And one faint scar,” he said, subdued.
Draco’s hand closed over his, fingers clenching unsteadily. “Harry,” he breathed. His head dropped forward, and Harry eased him closer, smoothing down over his stomach with one hand and inching gently beneath the waistline of Draco’s trousers until he felt the cloaking heat of hidden skin and the silken whorl of hair trailing down. Draco shuddered once, the tiniest tremor. His hand followed over Harry’s until his palm lay against Harry’s wrist.
Harry smiled into Draco’s shoulder. He turned him with a slight nudge, until he met darkened grey eyes. “Happy birthday to me,” he said, very softly.
Draco’s gaze moved over his face, open and exposed. He swallowed again, and Harry longed to kiss his throat, to follow the movement with his mouth until he remembered it through and through all over again. Full lips parted, lips he envisioned every day at work during the hours he couldn’t see them for himself. “And how long… How long would you like this?”
Harry touched his nose to Draco’s. Breathed out gently and brushed his lips in a sensitive, requesting kiss. “For as long as you’re willing.”
~fin~
...
Part 10: The Mishap
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Date: 2007-07-15 04:22 pm (UTC)From: