Wednesday, 5 May 2010 09:20 pm
lokifan: black Converse against a black background (Default)
[personal profile] lokifan
It’s not my fault if this makes no sense, okay? I’ve spent the week panic-revising for Friday’s exam. OH GOD I KNOW NOTHING ABOUT SHAKESPEARE THEY ARE GOING TO THROW ME TO THE POLYTECHNICS.

Title: Spectacular
Word count: 300
Characters/pairings: Ron/Draco
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Draco’s making a spectacle of himself on the dancefloor.
Warnings: none
Disclaimer: The boys belong to JKR, even though I’m often much nicer to them than she is.
Author’s Notes: This was written for the current [livejournal.com profile] rondracodrabble challenge, spectacle.

Draco was dancing.

Ron was ensconced in a corner of the club with Greg, grumbling about the situation. Which was how most of their club nights went, so Ron didn’t know why Draco kept trying to inveigle him into leather: the chair leather would just squeak against the trousers all night.

Ron took a long sip of Bitterbeer, his eyes fixed on Draco. His boyfriend was making an utter exhibition of himself on the dancefloor. The long pale lines of his arms and neck drew the eyes, his slow smile invited, his body moved like it ached to be touched.


The men dancing with Draco – the others dancing near him with hungry eyes that followed his low-swinging hips – wanted him. And that sent a slow, filthy thrill through him. Ron had waited his whole life to own something everyone else wanted.

Draco knew it, too. Ron would take him home later, and wag a finger at him. “You made a complete spectacle of yourself tonight.” Draco would flush and look down, but he’d be grinning; he’d swing his hips as he went up the stairs. Draco had waited his whole life to be the most precious thing someone else had.


Draco seemed to feel the intensity of Ron’s eyes on him: he turned.

This moment always lit up his insides: when Draco left the dancefloor and his admirers for him. Draco crossed the club with eyes focused on Ron, and kissed him. He pressed lips and body close, insinuating himself into Ron’s arms. He was determined to wriggle his way into Ron’s embrace every time, as if he didn’t know the place was his by right.

That devotion made Ron forget possession and triumph and even sex to come; he closed his eyes, shutting out the watchers, and kissed back.


lokifan: black Converse against a black background (Default)

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