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Sep. 9th, 2009 07:53 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sissyThrough a Motion
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Draco/Ron
It’s a heart pounding kind of awkwardness that leaves Ron speechless in front of his apartment. It’s obvious and nerve wracking, the things that they want to do but can’t summon the movement for.
Draco’s just as pretty and clean as he’s ever been, maybe more, but tonight he seems softer-the flickering hallway lights casting a shadow on the curving of his lips. Their hands are still entwined, the blond’s thinner and longer fingers keeping a tight grip, because letting go would seem too final. It makes Ron feel goofy when Draco uses his hold to pull them closer together, his insides turn to a gooey mush of butterbeer and chocolate frogs.
Ron’s not taller, not anymore, although he’s wider and probably more solid, and Draco seems to just tower over him. That self-confident Slytherin aura just rolls off him in smirks and sly looks, making Ron’s fullface blush and giddy smiles multiply ten fold.
“Did you have a good time?” is whispered in his ear. Ron doesn’t trust himself to speak, so he just smiles and nods. Smiles and nods, like he’s been doing all night. Every gesture Draco makes, from opening a door to pulling out a chair to paying for dinner leaves Ron a little more breathless.
“Then . . . I’ll see you soon?” Is that hope in Draco Malfoy’s voice? Ron rises just a bit, flattered and happy, and rushes to smooth over any uncertainty he feels as he talks. “Sunday. I...I don’t have to work, y’know...”
Now his hair is just a few shades lighter than his face. Draco’s eyes seem to be trying to memorize him, fondly taking in the tacky orange sweater that had been so out of place at the fancy restaurant and noting every detail of Ron’s dirty work jeans, before offering the redhead a one-of-a-kind smile. “Sunday it is then, Weasel. Wait for me.”
Ron suddenly feels empty, the tight grip on his hands gone, the constant warmth next to him that he’d adjusted to walking quickly away down the hall.
“I will!”, Ron stumbles forward again, still feeling awkward and giddy and wrong in all the right ways.
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Draco/Ron
It’s a heart pounding kind of awkwardness that leaves Ron speechless in front of his apartment. It’s obvious and nerve wracking, the things that they want to do but can’t summon the movement for.
Draco’s just as pretty and clean as he’s ever been, maybe more, but tonight he seems softer-the flickering hallway lights casting a shadow on the curving of his lips. Their hands are still entwined, the blond’s thinner and longer fingers keeping a tight grip, because letting go would seem too final. It makes Ron feel goofy when Draco uses his hold to pull them closer together, his insides turn to a gooey mush of butterbeer and chocolate frogs.
Ron’s not taller, not anymore, although he’s wider and probably more solid, and Draco seems to just tower over him. That self-confident Slytherin aura just rolls off him in smirks and sly looks, making Ron’s fullface blush and giddy smiles multiply ten fold.
“Did you have a good time?” is whispered in his ear. Ron doesn’t trust himself to speak, so he just smiles and nods. Smiles and nods, like he’s been doing all night. Every gesture Draco makes, from opening a door to pulling out a chair to paying for dinner leaves Ron a little more breathless.
“Then . . . I’ll see you soon?” Is that hope in Draco Malfoy’s voice? Ron rises just a bit, flattered and happy, and rushes to smooth over any uncertainty he feels as he talks. “Sunday. I...I don’t have to work, y’know...”
Now his hair is just a few shades lighter than his face. Draco’s eyes seem to be trying to memorize him, fondly taking in the tacky orange sweater that had been so out of place at the fancy restaurant and noting every detail of Ron’s dirty work jeans, before offering the redhead a one-of-a-kind smile. “Sunday it is then, Weasel. Wait for me.”
Ron suddenly feels empty, the tight grip on his hands gone, the constant warmth next to him that he’d adjusted to walking quickly away down the hall.
“I will!”, Ron stumbles forward again, still feeling awkward and giddy and wrong in all the right ways.