Title: Story Time
Author: Chrissy (iwantasoda)
Feedback: My drug of choice
Word Count: 405
Summary: Harry needs comforting, but where’s Draco?
Warnings: Fluffiness abound, m/m relationship
Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling pwns all
Harry Potter, a.k.a. the Boy-Who-Scored, hated thunderstorms. Normally he’d have Draco coax him through the storm that was raging outside, but Draco was spending the weekend with his mother in Wiltshire. Harry shuddered at a loud clap of thunder and yanked the blanket over his head clutching Draco’s pillow tightly. “Dammit Draco, why did you have to visit your mother this weekend?” he complained to the empty room as the thunder passed.
“Because it wasn’t supposed to fucking storm, that’s why,” a voice declared from beside the bed. “Look at you, twenty-five years old and crying under a blanked because of a storm,” Draco teased as he tossed his travelling cloak onto the dresser.
“Fuck you Draco,” Harry grumbled, he was too miserable to think of a proper comeback.
Draco chuckled as he stripped down to his boxers; Harry was impossible sometimes. “Hold on, I’m coming,” he said, pulling the blanket away from Harry and crawling into the bed. “Better?” he asked after Harry had snuggled up to him.
Harry nodded and kissed Draco’s bare shoulder. “Thanks for coming home,” he said, his grateful smile fading at the sound of a particularly loud clap of thunder and bright flash of lightening. “Tell me a story, something with bunnies,” Harry requested as he clutched Draco tightly.
“A story?” Draco asked, cocking an eyebrow; this was a new request.
“Please,” Harry pleaded, giving the blonde puppy dog eyes.
“Fine,” Draco said with a smile as he rolled his eyes. “Once upon a time in a land far away lived a bunny named Ichabod who was in love with Archie the bunny. Unfortunately for Ichabod, Archie was a captive of the evil Sir Reginald. One day, Ichabod decided that he was tired of waiting for Sir Reginald to die, so he snuck into his bedroom and killed him. After that, Ichabod and Archie lived happily ever after. The end,” Draco said, his hand resting on Harry’s hip.
“Well, that sucked,” Harry teased as the rain began to lighten up outside.
“I’m offended. That’s the last time I make up a happy story about bunnies for you. Next time, I’ll make them French bunnies,” Draco said matter of factly as Harry looked on in confusion.
“Everyone dies,” Draco explained with a laugh.
“Oh. You’re weird,” Harry said sleepily, laying his head on Draco’s chest.
“The French are weird,” he said with a smile as Harry closed his eyes.