Title: Santa Claus Surveillance
Summary: Aurors Harry and Draco pull surveillance duty on Christmas Eve.
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters herein are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended.
Warning(s): Sexual situation
Epilogue compliant? EWE
Word Count: 3400
Author's Notes: Thank you to my beta!
The front door opened to allow a cold draft of air into the house. Harry looked up from where he was prodding a log in the fireplace and scowled at his temporary partner. "You're late."
Draco shut the door behind him before he turned to address Harry. "I was enjoying the festivities at the Manor," he replied, tugging off his black gloves. He unwound a matching scarf from about his neck and hung it over the coat rack in the entrance hall.
Harry's frown didn't let up. "I managed to deliver gifts to the Burrow this evening and still arrive on time," he said.
"Bully for you, Potter," Draco sniffed as he hung his cloak. Rubbing his hands together, he approached the hearth. "Budge over, I want to warm my hands."
Harry grumbled beneath his breath, but he relinquished his place before the fire and sat on the sofa. His eyes strayed to his partner's arse, which looked fabulous in tailored black trousers. Harry looked away before he got caught staring. "What a way to spend Christmas Eve," he sighed.
Draco's answering grin was more of a grimace. "Remind me to hex Shacklebolt the next time we see him.
Last year, on Christmas Eve, an intrepid wizard had seen fit to glamour himself as Santa Claus and Apparate into several Muggle homes in Kingston. Children had been delighted, parents had been gobsmacked, and the DMLE had needed to perform mass Obliviations. This December, several Muggle homes had been leased in Kingston and decorated for the holidays. Aurors had been assigned to spend Christmas Eve in the homes, in hopes of catching the prankster in the act. Shacklebolt had tried to choose those who didn't have families of their own, which is how Harry and Draco had ended up pulling Santa Claus surveillance.
A chime sounded from the kitchen, and Harry rose to his feet. "Dinner is ready," he announced.
"Dinner?" Draco followed Harry into the kitchen and took an appreciative sniff. "I didn't know you could cook."
"I went to Tesco and bought two frozen dinners," Harry said as he opened the oven. He used a tea towel to remove the dinners and set them on top of the stove to cool.
"Frozen dinners?" Draco was aghast.
Harry nodded. "Turkey and dressing, glazed carrots, and cranberry crumble. It was the closest thing I could find to a Christmas dinner."
"I'm not eating that!" protested Draco.
"Go hungry then, you snob," Harry said with a shrug. He peeled the protective film off of one of the dinners and carried it out to the dining table. He returned to the kitchen for a goblet of water, cutlery, and some matches.
Draco was staring longingly at the second dinner. "Are you planning to eat both of them?" he asked, striving to sound nonchalant.
"I said you could have the second one," Harry reminded him, exiting the kitchen once more.
Draco reached for the dinner. "Ouch!"
"Use a tea towel!" Harry called from the dining room.
"Now he tells me," muttered Draco. He was tempted to use his wand to levitate the dinner to the table, but they had been cautioned not to give themselves away by using magic. By the time Draco ferried his dinner to the table, the tapered candles were lit, and it actually looked quite festive. He procured his own goblet of water and utensils and sampled the cranberry crumble.
"You don't get dessert unless you eat your dinner," smirked Harry.
"You sound like my mum," Draco said. He tried a bite of the turkey. "This is surprisingly delicious."
"Hermione tells me I eat too many frozen dinners," Harry remarked, "but I don't feel like cooking when I get home."
"Why don't you eat out?"
Harry stabbed a carrot with more force than was necessary. "I can't eat in peace when I try to dine in public," he said.
"Poor hero," simpered Draco.
"Shut your gob, Malfoy," Harry snapped. "You have no idea what it's like."
Draco was about to retort when he realized he didn't know what it was like to have so many people demanding one's attention constantly. He opted for a change of subject. "Are you seeing anyone?"
Harry's eyes narrowed, but Draco's expression seemed innocent and sincere. "No," he replied. "You?"
Draco shook his head. "Not since I washed my hands of Simon Ringrose."
Harry recalled seeing that bit of gossip in the Daily Prophet. "You certainly know how to choose them," he mocked. Ringrose had always struck Harry as a pompous boor."
"What of you?" Draco fired back. "How much time did you waste with that twat, Sheldon Simplepecker?"
"Sheldon Shingledecker," Harry growled, "and he...yeah, he was a bit of a twat," he admitted.
Draco snickered. "If you were as lucky in love as you are in every other aspect, you'd be insufferable."
Rather than take offense, Harry grinned at him. "Are you saying I'm not insufferable?"
"I shall suffer your presence for the sake of Christmas Eve and our assignment."
"You like me, Malfoy," taunted Harry. "Admit it."
"Rubbish," Draco scoffed. "I merely tolerate you for my partner's sake."
Harry's fork clattered onto the table. "How did you get partnered with Ron, while I got saddled with Hunkapillar?"
"Potter, it is none of my business what deviant perversions you and your partner indulge in, but please spare me the sordid details."
"Ugh, Malfoy!" Harry grimaced, disgusted by the implication. "My bits just shriveled."
Draco laughed at that, but part of him wanted to give Harry a hand with said bits. Draco swallowed his last bite and grinned across the table. "May I have dessert now, mum?"
"Cheeky brat," Harry said, although his eyes sparkled with humor. "Santa won't leave any gifts under the tree for you."
"Come now, I haven't been that naughty."
Harry's eyebrows rose behind his glasses. "That's not what I've heard."
"What has Weasley been saying about me?" demanded Draco. "All lies, I tell you."
"Even when he said you weren't such an annoying ferret any more?"
Draco glanced up from his cranberry crumble. "He said that?"
"Yes," Harry replied, "but apparently, he was lying."
"The good things you've heard about me are all true," Draco amended. He licked the last of the dessert from his fork. Harry's eyes followed the movement of Draco's tongue, and blood pooled in Draco's groin. Perhaps his attraction for his temporary partner was mutual.
Harry cleared his throat and stood up, hoping the tightness across the front of his jeans wasn't noticeable. He returned to the kitchen, placed his goblet and utensils in the sink and tossed the plastic tray in the bin. "Since I cooked dinner, you get to wash dishes," Harry called in the direction of the dining room.
Draco entered the kitchen, carrying his own items. "Dishes? I am certain whoever leased this house and decorated it can handle cleaning it up." Draco at least made the effort to place his cutlery and goblet in the sink and to throw away his tray. "Come along, Potter," he said. "Let's go sit by the fire and do things that Muggles do on Christmas Eve."
Harry shook his head in exasperation and turned to contemplate the dishes in the sink. He was reaching to turn on the water when he decided Draco had the right of it. Neither of them had wanted to spend their Christmas Eve here, sod it all, and by Godric, someone else could clean up. Decision made, Harry returned to the living room and found Draco seated at one end of the sofa. The other Auror was settled back, long legs stretched out before him, and he looked almost content as he gazed into the flames. Harry sat at the other end of the sofa and imitated Draco's posture.
"How do Muggles spend Christmas Eve, Potter?"
Harry kept his tone even when he responded, "They drink whiskey, sing songs, and engage in naked orgies in front of the fire."
Draco's head whipped around, but Harry was neither smirking nor snickering. Instead, he sat at ease, contemplating the blazing hearth. "You're making that up," Draco accused, sounding unsure even to his own ears.
Harry's innocent demeanor cracked. "Yeah, I am," he chuckled.
It was on the tip of Draco's tongue to castigate Harry, but instead he chose to say, "That's unfortunate. I was looking forward to it."
It was Harry's turn to gape. "You wanted to shag in front of the fire?!"
"Of course not, you randy crup," Draco said. "I was looking forward to drinking whiskey."
Harry groaned and tried to will his throbbing cock to subside. Once he thought he could stand up without embarrassing himself, Harry got to his feet and approached the Christmas tree. It was decorated with multi-colored electric lights that blinked in a bewildering pattern. A multitude of glass balls and plastic ornaments had been hung from the branches. Beneath the tree were several wrapped gifts. Harry knew it was just for show; each gift was an empty box--except for one. He bent to retrieve the present he had brought and returned to the sofa. "You're in luck, Malfoy," said Harry, handing the gift to his partner.
"You bought me a gift?" Draco asked, accepting the present.
Harry shrugged. "It is Christmas Eve."
"But...I didn't get you anything," Draco muttered, clinging to his gift nonetheless.
"Christmas is all about giving, Malfoy," Harry said with a smile. He sat back down at his end of the sofa. "Besides," he added, "I find I prefer to be on the giving end of things."
The innuendo wasn't lost on Draco, and he flushed with renewed arousal. Naked sex in front of the fireplace was sounding better all the time.
Harry mistook Draco's awkward silence. "Go ahead and open it, Malfoy," he coaxed. "It's something we can share."
That sent another spike of desire straight to Draco's groin. The box was long and rectangular, but Harry wouldn't have dared give him an adult toy, would he? There was only one way to find out. Draco tore at the wrappings, and they fell away to reveal a box with Ogden's embossed on it. Draco told himself it was relief he felt at receiving a bottle of whiskey. "Thank you," he beamed at his partner.
"I'll get us some glasses," Harry offered, levering himself off the sofa.
Draco opened the bottle and inhaled the heady aroma of the alcohol. Harry returned and set two glasses on the low table next to Draco. Tilting the bottle, Draco poured a glass and handed it to Harry before pouring himself a drink. "To fine whiskey," he toasted.
They drank in companionable silence, each of them staring into the flames, lost in thought.
Draco emptied his glass and poured himself another, topping off Harry's drink as he did so.
"To temporary partners," Harry said, raising his glass.
Draco clinked their glasses together and nodded in acknowledgment. He took a drink, relishing the way the aged whiskey went down and warmed him from the inside out. He had initially been angry with this assignment--sent to sit in a Muggle house with Harry Potter while waiting for a prank that likely would not be repeated this year. However, things didn't seem so bad at the moment. Dinner had been tasty, despite its plebeian origins, and he'd enjoyed the chance to goad Harry once again. Sitting on the sofa with Harry and drinking whiskey was rather nice, as well.
Draco lifted his glass to his lips and frowned when he realized it was empty. He poured another and turned to Harry with an eyebrow raised in question.
"I shouldn't," Harry sighed. "We're s'posed to be on duty."
"Sod duty," Draco sneered. "What manner of arsehole makes us conduct surveillance on Christmas Eve?"
Harry considered that a moment, then extended his glass. Once Draco had poured him another drink, Harry grinned and toasted, "To the arsehole!"
"To the arsehole!" Draco laughed, knocking his glass against Harry's. "What were you planning to do tonight?" he asked.
"Was going to spend the evening at the Burrow, then go home and watch the telly," said Harry. "It's a Wonderful Life," he added.
Draco frowned. "Doesn't sound so wonderful to me."
Harry chuckled. "No, that's the name of the program I was gonna watch on the telly," he clarified. "S'called It's a Wonnerful Life."
"Ah," Draco mused sagely. "Rather read a good book, myself."
"S'why your nose is so pointy," Harry said, nodding to himself. He took another gulp of whiskey. "Always stuck in a book."
Draco glowered at him. "If that were the case, Granger's nose'd be worse than mine."
Harry giggled. "To Her-Herm-Granger!" he shouted. He brought his glass up and frowned to find it empty. "Who drank my whishkey?"
"You did, you sot."
"Well, gimme some more," insisted Harry, thrusting his glass at Draco.
"May-maybe we've had enough," said Draco.
"Hah bumbug!" blustered Harry. "It's Chrishmas Eve, an' we're on duty, so we can't even shag. Now, top me."
"Beg pardon?" Draco glanced up in surprise.
"You know," Harry made a vague gesture at his glass. "Top off my drink."
"Oh! Yes, of course," Draco babbled. He only sloshed a little of the whiskey over the side of Harry's glass as he refilled it. Draco handed it over and poured himself some more. "What were we drinking to, again?"
Harry's face scrunched up as he thought. "I don't 'member." His expression brightened. "To Santa Claus!"
"Hear, hear!" Draco toasted.
Harry's grin was lopsided. "Tha's what Santa says," he snickered. "He laughs, an' his belly jiggles, an' he says 'Ho ho ho!'"
Draco blinked at him. "He must be mental."
"He's jolly," Harry corrected.
Draco didn't respond to that, and they sat once more in silence, sipping at their whiskey. Was it Draco's imagination, or was the liquor getting smoother the more he drank?
"You should be jolly." Harry's voice interrupted Draco's musings.
Harry pointed at Draco with his glass, spilling some of the amber liquid. "You need t'be more jolly," he said. "You're...mm, excuse me...you're cute when you smile."
The warmth in Draco's belly had nothing to do with the whiskey. "You think I'm cute?"
"You're a bit of alright," Harry nodded. His glasses slid down his nose, and he pushed them up absently. "Wouldn't mind shagging you, but not on shur-survey-surveyleeance."
"Potter, you're pissed."
"No, m'not," protested Harry. "Well, maybe a little. But so are you."
Draco tried to work that out in his befuddled mind, and he ended up laughing. "I'm pretty jolly now."
"Yesh, jolly makes you pretty," agreed Harry. "C'mere and let me shnog you."
With a puzzled frown, Draco tried to decipher if Harry wanted to shag or snog. "What did you say?"
"Oi, no need to be rude!" Draco blustered.
"M'not being rude," said Harry. "I want to shag you."
"Oh." Draco took another sip of whiskey. "We're on duty."
"Wanna shag when we're off our duty?"
"That would be brilliant," beamed Draco. His cock twitched, indicating it thought a shag would be brilliant now.
Harry scooted closer on the sofa. "We can snog on duty, yeah?"
Draco considered it. "No rules against it, I don' think. Do you want to snog?"
A sloppy smile wreathed Harry's face. "Absho-abso-yeah!"
Pulse fluttering with excitement, Draco set his empty glass down, taking care not to tip it. He rescued Harry's glass from falling and thunked it onto the end table. When Draco turned again, Harry was pressed against him. Draco closed his eyes and parted his lips.
Harry swooped in, bonked their noses together, and jammed his glasses into his face. "Ouch," he huffed. He removed his glasses and laid them on the back of the sofa. He blamed his lack of glasses for his inability to focus on Draco's face. Harry took a fortifying breath and dove in again.
Draco flailed when Harry mashed their mouths together and began trying to devour him. He pushed back and glared. "Potter! You snog like a Dementor!"
"Ugh," Harry shuddered. He bit his lip and peered up at Draco's blurry face. "Lemme try again?"
"You hold shtill and let me do the snodging," insisted Draco. Harry nodded his agreement, and Draco leaned in close, angled his head, and clacked their teeth together. "Ouch," he muttered.
Harry made the proper adjustment and touched his lips to Draco's. They sat there like that for a moment, mouths pressed together and breath held. Harry inched back and licked his lips, tasting whiskey and Draco. "Tha' was better."
"That wasn't a snog," said Draco. He moved in for another try. This time, their mouths met and melded. They kissed gently at first, learning the shape and contour of each other's lips. Draco grew bold enough to trace Harry's lips with his tongue, and he groaned when Harry's tongue flicked out to touch his. Draco withdrew his tongue, and Harry's followed, plunging past Draco's teeth to stroke the inside of his mouth with shocking intimacy.
Harry retreated slowly, sucking Draco's bottom lip into his mouth and caressing it with his tongue before he sat back. "Wow," he breathed.
"Wow," Draco agreed, lips still tingling.
Harry wanted more of Draco's whiskey-flavored kisses. He bent his head and fastened their mouths together once more, moaning when Draco eagerly opened for him. Their tongues met and twined together, rubbing in sensuous abandon. The pressure in Harry's jeans grew almost unbearable, and he scooted over to frot against Draco's thigh.
The heat that unfurled in Draco's stomach had nothing to do with the quantity of alcohol he'd consumed and everything to do with Harry. Anxious to get closer, Draco shifted to his knees without breaking the kiss and straddled Harry's lap.
Both of them groaned.
Harry plunged his fingers into Draco's hair to anchor his head while he began thrusting up against him. Draco responded with a wanton whimper in the back of his throat and ground himself down on Harry's hardness. His fingers tightened on Harry's shoulders as he rocked back and forth on Harry's lap.
Harry released Draco's hair to grab his partner's arse in both hands. He used his grip to pull Draco harder against him. Lust and whiskey fogged his mind, and Harry turned his head away to gasp for breath. "Draco, I'm going to...oh my god!" Harry's head fell back against the sofa as he arched up beneath Draco and came.
Draco buried his face in the crook of Harry's shoulder as he continued frotting against him. "Just a...little more," he panted. "Sweet Circe," he moaned, body shuddering through his own climax. When his muscles relaxed, Draco sighed and burrowed closer, nuzzling Harry's throat and flicking his tongue out to sample the taste of Harry's skin.
Harry smiled without opening his eyes. "That was..."
"Yeah," Draco murmured. He raised his head to press his lips to Harry's again. It was a slow, languid kiss that carried only a hint of the heat that had flamed into passion mere moments ago. Draco trailed tiny kisses along Harry's jaw before laying his head on Harry's shoulder once more.
Harry's smile widened to soppy proportions. He ran one hand over Draco's hair in a petting motion, while the other hand kneaded Draco's arse. Draco snuffled against Harry's shirt, and his weight seemed to double. Harry tried to lift his head, but it was too much effort. "Malfoy?" he whispered.
There was no answer.
It occurred to Harry that he should remove Draco from his lap so that he could maintain their surveillance. However, Draco felt so good nestled against him, and the heat from the fire was cozy and comforting. Harry's eyelids grew heavy as warmth and sexual satisfaction lulled him to sleep. Santa Claus didn't need to put in an appearance. Harry had everything he could wish for right here in his arms.