Le Obscure Prompt War – Round One
Prompts: pink post-its, a bike, ½ cup of grated cheese, a devil teddy
Okay, here's the backstory on this one. lilith1631 on Livejournal challenged me to an obscure (i.e. EVIL) prompt war. We shall be issued four prompts for each story. They shall all be Harry/Draco. They will be between 1000 and 1500 words. The war will continue until one of us begs for mercy and admits the other is the reigning queen of promptage.
Harry rolled over languidly and reached across the bed, expecting to feel the smooth, warm skin of his resident blond. His questing fingers grasped nothing but bedclothes.
Curious, he sat up. It wasn't terribly early, but Draco tended to lie abed mornings, at least until Harry got up and fetched him a cup of tea. Harry reached for his glasses, and saw a bright pink post-it note stuck to his wand. He donned the spectacles and took the post-it with a heavy sigh. Draco was inordinately fond of post-its. He had decreed them to be a wizard invention stolen by thieving Muggles. After which he plastered them all over number 12, Grimmauld Place, every chance he got.
This one read: I took the bike out for a spin. I think I have the hang of driving it.
Harry pelted down the stairs without bothering to don more clothing than the nearest pair of boxers—which happened to be Draco's. Harry's hand was on the front door when a wicked laugh from the parlour halted his mad dash.
Harry turned and stalked to the doorway to glare at the Slytherin, who lounged on the couch with a maddening grin.
"God, Potter, you're gullible enough to be a Hufflepuff. Are you certain you were sorted properly?"
Harry was too relieved to be annoyed. He had acquired Sirius Black's flying motorcycle several years back, and used it infrequently to cruise Muggle London—without the flying, of course. In truth, he had never flown on the damned thing. He was nervous enough riding it on Muggle backstreets.
Draco, however, was fascinated with it, and insisted they ride the motorcycle to Diagon Alley at least once a week. He had never asked Harry to teach him to drive it—too proud a pureblood to admit wanting to learn Muggle technology, but Harry knew Draco paid close attention to every move Harry made while they rode. Harry had to admit, he'd gotten used to the rides, and the pleasant feel of Draco pressed against his back while they sped through the streets.
Before Harry could form a reply, a stuffed bear ricocheted off his forehead. Draco had lobbed it from its resting place on the couch—left there by Lupin's young daughter, no doubt.
"Ow!" Harry snapped and stooped to pick up the teddy. It was dressed as a devil. Harry was certain one of the horns had given him another scar on his forehead to match the lightning bolt.
"Off with the pants, Potter. Those are mine."
Harry threw the bear back at Draco, who snagged it out of the air with a smirk.
"You want them, come and get them," Harry taunted and bolted for the stairs.
Malfoy caught him before he reached the bed. Draco's arms wrapped around his legs and sent them both tumbling to the carpet. Draco wrestled the boxers from Harry, which took longer than expected because they were both nearly incoherent with laughter. Harry struggled, of course, having no intention of making it too easy for the Slytherin.
When Harry was suitably unclothed, Draco kissed him for a bit, and then nibbled on his earlobe.
"I'm going to get something from the kitchen and eat it off of your delectable body," Draco whispered hoarsely. Harry chuckled. One of his favorite games.
Draco pulled out his wand. "Accio cheese."
"Accio what?" Harry asked, hoisting himself up a bit.
"Cheese," said Draco, holding up the small ceramic bowl that had flitted through the door and into Malfoy's waiting hand. "Half a cup of grated mozzarella."
"You are not putting cheese on my body," Harry said indignantly.
"Oh yes, I am," Draco said, using the throaty tone that always made Harry want to pounce and devour the Slytherin. As it was, he began to change his mind about the cheese. Almost.
"What's wrong with chocolate? Or whipped cream? Or strawberry jam?"
"Done that," Draco said. "Time for cheese."
Before Harry could stop him, Draco sprinkled some of the grated white bits on Harry's chest. Harry sighed in resignation, and then yelped as the cheese seemed to melt against his skin—complete with startling heat. The strands melted together and formed long strands that coiled over his skin like snakes before wrapping around his wrists. In moments, he found his hands bound together over his head.
Draco gave him a delighted smirk, and his silver eyes practically gleamed.
"Did I happen to mention it was Weasley cheese?" Malfoy asked.
"No, you did not. How many times have I told you I don't want to be a Weasley test subject?" Harry tugged at his wrists, hoping the cheese would break apart easily, but it seemed as strong as rope.
"It's been tested," Draco assured him, which did not reassure Harry. Draco had the ability to assure Harry that black was white, and white was black in such a convincing manner that Harry would require scientific proof to refute him. Malfoy could lie so compellingly every politician at the Ministry envied him.
"What do you plan to do with me, now?" Harry asked.
"Well, first we need to get you onto the bed," Draco said suggestively. He stood and cast a Levitation Spell on Harry, who felt himself glide through the air and drop onto the bed. "And then we modify the cheese a bit." Draco cast another spell and the white ropelike substance elongated and tied Harry's hands firmly to the headboard.
"Draco, you know I'm really not into the bondage thing," Harry said nervously.
"I know, your dratted Gryffindor control issues," Draco said as he leaned over Harry and sucked gently on an exposed nipple. Harry, already half-erect from wrestling with Draco on the floor, felt a rush of heat in his loins. Draco's hand caressed his cock gently, hardening it even more. Harry moaned. Draco moved down and licked the length of it with his warm tongue. Harry began to rethink his "control issues" regarding bondage.
Draco stood up, and Harry assumed the Slytherin meant to shed his clothing. Instead, Draco headed for the door.
"I really am taking the bike for a spin this time," he said over his shoulder. Harry blinked at the empty doorway for a moment, trying to process the words. Draco's footsteps disappeared down the stairs.
"Draco? Draco?" he called, alarmed. He yanked at his cheesy bonds. The unbreakable Weasley cheese bonds. "MALFOY!!!"
He barely heard the deep chuckle before the front door closed. A moment later, he heard the roar of the motorcycle in the street.