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lokifanTitle: Trade
Word count: 200
Characters/pairings: Ron/Draco
Rating: PG
Summary: Ron takes Draco to his regular.
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![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
rondracodrabble’s current challenge, pub.
“You said if we went riding, I could choose the next date.”
“This is not equal payment! I let you ride one of the best stallions in Britain!”
“It bit me.”
“If you’d handled him right – ”
“Horses are evil, just ask the Trojans. Now will you please come inside with me? I’ll buy you a drink.”
Draco made a terrible face, but he followed Ron into the pub.
Which was all right by Ron: the Slaughtered Lamb was his regular, and it did his ego no harm at all to come strolling in with a handsome blond at his heels.
~*~
He bought them both Bitterbeers, and led Draco to a corner booth. Draco whispered a cleaning charm and sat.
“So what do you think?” Ron asked, cheerfully preparing to hear his pub eviscerated by Draco’s wicked tongue. Wicked tongue… He dropped a hand onto Draco’s knee.
Draco tensed under his hand. Ron didn’t move it, and slowly Draco relaxed against him. He stroked his fingertips over Draco’s kneecap, and watched his eyes dilate.
A pause.
“I suppose it’s sort of acceptable,” Draco allowed grudgingly. He was looking intently at his pint glass.
Ron hid his grin in his own.
Word count: 200
Characters/pairings: Ron/Draco
Rating: PG
Summary: Ron takes Draco to his regular.
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
rondracodrabble’s current challenge, pub.“You said if we went riding, I could choose the next date.”
“This is not equal payment! I let you ride one of the best stallions in Britain!”
“It bit me.”
“If you’d handled him right – ”
“Horses are evil, just ask the Trojans. Now will you please come inside with me? I’ll buy you a drink.”
Draco made a terrible face, but he followed Ron into the pub.
Which was all right by Ron: the Slaughtered Lamb was his regular, and it did his ego no harm at all to come strolling in with a handsome blond at his heels.
He bought them both Bitterbeers, and led Draco to a corner booth. Draco whispered a cleaning charm and sat.
“So what do you think?” Ron asked, cheerfully preparing to hear his pub eviscerated by Draco’s wicked tongue. Wicked tongue… He dropped a hand onto Draco’s knee.
Draco tensed under his hand. Ron didn’t move it, and slowly Draco relaxed against him. He stroked his fingertips over Draco’s kneecap, and watched his eyes dilate.
A pause.
“I suppose it’s sort of acceptable,” Draco allowed grudgingly. He was looking intently at his pint glass.
Ron hid his grin in his own.