They stood, huddled together, against the wall of their building, trying to stay as warm and dry as possible whilst shooting each other icy glares and maintaining a frosty silence. The leaden skies were the perfect backdrop for their mood as they waited for the locksmith to arrive.
Harry shifted as though about to speak and Draco glared … a warning … a challenge, daring Harry to say something.
When they'd left earlier -- before their silly argument about who relied on magic the most; before their bet about who could live without it the longest -- the key had been in Draco's keeping. And, if it hadn't been for that fact, Draco would have suspected Harry of deliberately hiding the key in order to get him capitulate and lose their bet. In fact, he wouldn't be surprised if Harry had sneaked the key when he wasn't looking.
Harry, Draco noted, was altogether far more Slytherin than he'd care to admit at times, and Harry knew just how much Draco hated getting wet … just how much he hated what the rain did to his hair. But Draco would compliment the Weasel on the cut of his robes before he'd let Harry win this one. Harry won far too often for Draco's taste. Anyway, hadn't Harry already won him? What more could he possibly want?
Harry narrowed his eyes and pursed his lips, but said nothing. Draco knew that he was recovering from a cold, and Harry wouldn't put it passed him to have 'accidentally on purpose' lost the key in order to force him to use magic to get in out of the cold. But Harry was made of sterner stuff than that. He'd kiss the hem of the next Dark Lord's robe before he'd let Draco win, or he'd never hear the end of it.
Harry felt the first tickle of a sneeze building up. When they finally got in to the warm again, Draco would find himself the bottom -- Harry was going to make him pay for this. He tried to stifle a grin as he thought about all the delicious tortures that he would put Draco through later.
Draco shivered as felt a cold trickle of rainwater slide down the back of his neck and again he tried to sweep the sodden hair out of his eyes. Harry would be the bottom tonight -- Draco was going to make him pay for this. He gave a sly smile as he planned all the delicious tortures he would inflict on Harry later. Discreetly, he took Harry's hand in his and lightly stroked the back of it, imagining Harry's soft whimpers and pleas for more as he did so.
Harry squeezed Draco's hand and shifted slightly, so that the bulge in his trousers wasn't quite so obvious -- he could almost hear Draco's quiet gasps and moans already.
NOTES: Written for a LiveJournal ficlet challenge community in 2003.
Scenario: Locked outside their flat that's located right outside of London while it's raining at night. (And you cannot use magic to get in!)