Title: Slap and Tickle.
Author:

an_sceal
Rating: R
Canon: post-HBP, no spoilers.
Length: 1,200 words.
Scenario: I promise to make you laugh during sex.
Disclaimer: All characters owned by JKR and Co. For fun, not profit.

Slap and Tickle

When Harry finally got in that night there were two cheese salad sandwiches waiting for him on the table. Exhaustion and hunger fought for dominance, hunger finally winning as he sank down into the dining room chair and gobbled one entirely before noticing the note that was tucked under his napkin.

Tired as he was, he managed a smile as he read it over. He smirked at the date, underscored to make a point, and flat out rolled his eyes at the signature in all its aristocratic, loopy glory. Suddenly, even though he�d spent 14 hours at the Ministry untangling a bureaucratic knot, he wasn�t as tired as he should have been.

A flick of his wand moved the empty plate to the sink, and he set it to wash and dry before leaving his robe in a puddle of spat-inducing wrinkles at the bottom of the stairs. The door creaked when he opened it, but Draco didn�t stir. By virtue of practice Draco was a generous bedmate, sprawling across the mattress and warming it up when he was alone and rolling carefully back to his own side when he wasn�t. There had been a lot of times lately where he�d never had to give up the rest of the bed. Harry felt quite bad about that, really, but the consulting work he was doing for the Ministry was engrossing and delicate, and sometimes he just couldn�t get away.

He thought about launching himself at the bed, but then his knee twinged at him and he decided that there were better ways to wake someone than yelping in pain. Hopping around on one foot as he tried to get rid of his other sock, he managed to make a hash of it anyway, toppling unsteadily into the bed and elbowing Draco in the back.

�A simple �I�m home� would have sufficed,� Draco said from the depths of his pillow before rolling over and squinting at him.

�Yeah, sorry about that,� Harry muttered before dumping his glasses and wand on the bedside table and rubbing his face with the hand not currently sneaking under the covers. Draco smiled, but slid away, clucking his tongue.

�You�ve taken the term �slap and tickle� a bit too literally.�

Harry shrugged, but he was smiling too, and after a second he put his glasses back on and propped himself up against the headboard.

�So what would make you laugh?�

�You think you�ll get out of it that easily? Bah. I need wooing, Potter! I need coddling and pretty words and all that rot. Haven�t you read the latest Witch Weekly? It�s all well and good to love me, but you need to keep the romance alive. When was the last time you took me on a date? Brought me flowers? Lingerie?� With a heavy sigh he turned over on his back a put a hand to his forehead, doing a convincing impression of a slighted lover. �I think our relationship is in trouble, Harry. Millicent told me all about this- lesbian bed death. You set up house with someone and suddenly the only sex you have is on bank holidays and Boxing Day.�

Even though he was supposed to be the one playing the jester, Harry couldn�t help but laugh.

�But Draco, we�re not lesbians.�

�Beside the point. Miles wide of the point!� Harry let his hands move down Draco�s chest, not really tickling, but not very serious either. You never knew when he was going to toss an arm around to make some dramatic gesture or another, and Harry wasn�t certain that his glasses or his nose would hold up to another emergency repair job. He found himself within inches of Draco�s mouth, staring into his eyes. It was a scene fit for someone who actually would have read Witch Weekly.

�I do not feel treasured, Harry.�

�That�s horrible,� Harry said, sliding under the covers and resting his cheek on Draco�s thigh. �Maybe I should lock you in a vault at Gringott�s. Build a glass case to display you in?�

�That will do nicely.� Draco sighed quietly, legs parting easily as Harry took more of him in. As generous as he could be in bed, Harry never faulted him for his single-minded enjoyment of a blowjob. He was the picture of hedonism, lying in debauched repose with only the scrape of his fingernails across the sheets. It had always fascinated Harry, who still only managed such guiltless excitement when he was flying.

Harry waited a moment more, his tongue moving slowly over Draco�s favourite spot, and when he heard the first sigh of pleasure he let his fingers dance over the insides of the pale thighs he lay between.

Draco smacked him on the top of the head.

�Hey!�

�It isn�t polite to talk with your mouth full.�

Harry rubbed one of his many cowlicks, glaring at Draco. �If I�d known that abusing me would make you happy, I would have taken an entirely different approach to this.�

�I don�t like being tickled,� Draco said simply, but he did look just the slightest bit apologetic. At least, Harry thought he did.

�Fine then. Lingerie it is.� Harry hopped out of bed and picked up his wand, heading for the bathroom. He fished the first thing he could find out of the hamper and pulled it on before touching his wand to it and willing it to change shape. Even to his own eyes it was a travesty, but he thought he might get a decent chuckle out of it anyway. Doing his best to ignore the way the wooly ruffles scratched his bum, he sauntered back into the bedroom and raised his eyebrows at Draco.

�Does this suit me?�

Draco did his best not to react, but his stoicism went right to pieces when Harry arched his back in the doorframe and did his best to mimic all the come-hither poses he�d ever seen.

�That is the ugliest thing I�ve ever seen in my life,� Draco choked out, and Harry was pleased to see that he was fighting back a snicker. The slightly crooked �H� on the front was really about the only thing remaining of the original green jumper, most of which seemed to have been Transfigured into a devastating collection of ruffles across the breadth of Harry�s arse.

He sashayed towards the bed, hips slinking back and forth easily. Harry crawled in, caging Draco between his arms and legs as he hovered over him. Draco stared up at him, eyes impossibly wide, and sucking his lower lip into his mouth to contain the laugh that Harry was determined to have escape.

Harry leaned down, his lips practically brushing Draco�s ear. �Laugh, or I�ll ask her to knit you one this year,� he threatened.

Whether it was the image of the fuchsia and orange jumper that would no doubt await him, or Harry�s lips on his ear, the strangled laughter still managed to leak out.

Harry counted it as one of his rare wins.

{About the Eros Affair • Fics by Scenario • Fics by Author • Project Notes}



	Title: Slap and Tickle. Author: an_sceal Rating: R Canon: post-HBP, no spoilers. Length: 1,200 words. Scenario: I promise to make you laugh during sex. Disclaimer: All characters owned by JKR and Co. For fun, not profit. Slap and Tickle When Harry finally got in that night there were two cheese salad sandwiches waiting for him on the table. Exhaustion and hunger fought for dominance, hunger finally winning as he sank down into the dining room chair and gobbled one entirely before noticing the note that was tucked under his napkin. Tired as he was, he managed a smile as he read it over. He smirked at the date, underscored to make a point, and flat out rolled his eyes at the signature in all its aristocratic, loopy glory. Suddenly, even though he�d spent 14 hours at the Ministry untangling a bureaucratic knot, he wasn�t as tired as he should have been. A flick of his wand moved the empty plate to the sink, and he set it to wash and dry before leaving his robe in a puddle of spat-inducing wrinkles at the bottom of the stairs. The door creaked when he opened it, but Draco didn�t stir. By virtue of practice Draco was a generous bedmate, sprawling across the mattress and warming it up when he was alone and rolling carefully back to his own side when he wasn�t. There had been a lot of times lately where he�d never had to give up the rest of the bed. Harry felt quite bad about that, really, but the consulting work he was doing for the Ministry was engrossing and delicate, and sometimes he just couldn�t get away. He thought about launching himself at the bed, but then his knee twinged at him and he decided that there were better ways to wake someone than yelping in pain. Hopping around on one foot as he tried to get rid of his other sock, he managed to make a hash of it anyway, toppling unsteadily into the bed and elbowing Draco in the back. �A simple �I�m home� would have sufficed,� Draco said from the depths of his pillow before rolling over and squinting at him. �Yeah, sorry about that,� Harry muttered before dumping his glasses and wand on the bedside table and rubbing his face with the hand not currently sneaking under the covers. Draco smiled, but slid away, clucking his tongue. �You�ve taken the term �slap and tickle� a bit too literally.� Harry shrugged, but he was smiling too, and after a second he put his glasses back on and propped himself up against the headboard. �So what would make you laugh?� �You think you�ll get out of it that easily? Bah. I need wooing, Potter! I need coddling and pretty words and all that rot. Haven�t you read the latest Witch Weekly? It�s all well and good to love me, but you need to keep the romance alive. When was the last time you took me on a date? Brought me flowers? Lingerie?� With a heavy sigh he turned over on his back a put a hand to his forehead, doing a convincing impression of a slighted lover. �I think our relationship is in trouble, Harry. Millicent told me all about this- lesbian bed death. You set up house with someone and suddenly the only sex you have is on bank holidays and Boxing Day.� Even though he was supposed to be the one playing the jester, Harry couldn�t help but laugh. �But Draco, we�re not lesbians.� �Beside the point. Miles wide of the point!� Harry let his hands move down Draco�s chest, not really tickling, but not very serious either. You never knew when he was going to toss an arm around to make some dramatic gesture or another, and Harry wasn�t certain that his glasses or his nose would hold up to another emergency repair job. He found himself within inches of Draco�s mouth, staring into his eyes. It was a scene fit for someone who actually would have read Witch Weekly. �I do not feel treasured, Harry.� �That�s horrible,� Harry said, sliding under the covers and resting his cheek on Draco�s thigh. �Maybe I should lock you in a vault at Gringott�s. Build a glass case to display you in?� �That will do nicely.� Draco sighed quietly, legs parting easily as Harry took more of him in. As generous as he could be in bed, Harry never faulted him for his single-minded enjoyment of a blowjob. He was the picture of hedonism, lying in debauched repose with only the scrape of his fingernails across the sheets. It had always fascinated Harry, who still only managed such guiltless excitement when he was flying. Harry waited a moment more, his tongue moving slowly over Draco�s favourite spot, and when he heard the first sigh of pleasure he let his fingers dance over the insides of the pale thighs he lay between. Draco smacked him on the top of the head. �Hey!� �It isn�t polite to talk with your mouth full.� Harry rubbed one of his many cowlicks, glaring at Draco. �If I�d known that abusing me would make you happy, I would have taken an entirely different approach to this.� �I don�t like being tickled,� Draco said simply, but he did look just the slightest bit apologetic. At least, Harry thought he did. �Fine then. Lingerie it is.� Harry hopped out of bed and picked up his wand, heading for the bathroom. He fished the first thing he could find out of the hamper and pulled it on before touching his wand to it and willing it to change shape. Even to his own eyes it was a travesty, but he thought he might get a decent chuckle out of it anyway. Doing his best to ignore the way the wooly ruffles scratched his bum, he sauntered back into the bedroom and raised his eyebrows at Draco. �Does this suit me?� Draco did his best not to react, but his stoicism went right to pieces when Harry arched his back in the doorframe and did his best to mimic all the come-hither poses he�d ever seen. �That is the ugliest thing I�ve ever seen in my life,� Draco choked out, and Harry was pleased to see that he was fighting back a snicker. The slightly crooked �H� on the front was really about the only thing remaining of the original green jumper, most of which seemed to have been Transfigured into a devastating collection of ruffles across the breadth of Harry�s arse. He sashayed towards the bed, hips slinking back and forth easily. Harry crawled in, caging Draco between his arms and legs as he hovered over him. Draco stared up at him, eyes impossibly wide, and sucking his lower lip into his mouth to contain the laugh that Harry was determined to have escape. Harry leaned down, his lips practically brushing Draco�s ear. �Laugh, or I�ll ask her to knit you one this year,� he threatened. Whether it was the image of the fuchsia and orange jumper that would no doubt await him, or Harry�s lips on his ear, the strangled laughter still managed to leak out. Harry counted it as one of his rare wins. {About the Eros Affair • Fics by Scenario • Fics by Author • Project Notes}