Disclaimer: I don't own anything! Seriously, I don't even own the computer I am typing this on…
Fics I can do: Harry Potter, Queer as Folk, The Mighty Boosh, Torchwood, Doctor Who, Supernatural, Glee, Bones, Psych, White Collar, Pirates of the Children
There are others I can cross, just ask, and I shall tell you if it is at all possible...
I am back after a million years, so I will catch up to all of the prompts and hopefully they work, my cancer is in remission so I am super pumped to be back!
Harry Potter/Kyouya Ootori (OHSHC): dominant/ manipulative Kyouya wooing/courting Harry
Death Threats with a Dash of Wooing
Harry wasn't exactly quite sure what to think about Ootori.
No, that was essentially an understatement. He knew what he thought of the other man. He knew exactly what he thought of him. He thought he was an ass, a manipulative, domineering ass that could probably have Harry killed with a snap of his finger if he truly wanted. And from what Harry had gathered, he didn't exactly like Harry that much either. He was always staring.
At first, Harry did think he was crazy. Thought that maybe he was just thinking that the cold boy (though very attractive boy, he was near sighted, not blind) was always looking in his direction. Thinking that maybe Haruhi was somewhere near him. Because from what Harry had gathered from his short time with the Host Club, nearly all of the men in it were salivating over her, the only exception being Hunny who seemed much more interested in drooling over cake than any cross dressing woman.
But after a short while, the staring got longer, the steely eyes always fixated on his location and Harry would be lying if it didn't make him nervous. Because it did. He had stared down Hermione, Malfoy, Molly Weasley, Voldemort, for Merlin's sake, but one look from the other boy sent shivers up and down his spine. And no matter just how dangerous the man seemed, Harry couldn't help but find himself attracted to him. And so he started to stare back, always ducking his head back to his school work whenever Ootori caught him looking, and he might (and if anyone tells Ron this he will kill them) have doodled Ootori's name in the corner of his planner, like some sort of love struck teenager.
And well, he might have been some love struck teen, but he didn't want anyone to know that. Of course, looking back on it now, there are few things that the Ootori has trouble finding out, crushes not being one of them.
And so on Monday morning while he walked in to his Japanese history course, Harry didn't know what to think when he found a box of instant coffee on his desk. But from the flash of a smile on Ootori's face, Harry was sure whatever it was, it wasn't good.
His first thought was a death threat, because Harry did drink coffee religiously, perhaps Ootori was telling him he was going to kill him with coffee, or that coffee was going to kill him, either way, Harry wasn't too sure and he wasn't sure he wanted to find out.
All through Monday the Host Club walked around him on egg shells as well, not daring to even look him in the eye most of the time, Haruhi seemed to be just as stumped as Harry was though, and together, they tried to wrack their brains for Kyouya's reasoning behind the present.
"Maybe he thinks you look tired." She offered, her fingers tapping on her lips thoughtfully. But Harry shook his head, shrugged his shoulders, and with a final glance back at Ootori, he left to go home, the instant coffee clasped in his hands tightly.
Tuesday yielded no gifts, other than Ootori's presence at his back when Shori Saito, his friend from Philosophy was trying to ask him to the movie they had both been rather interested in. But as soon as Ootori appeared, Shori turned pale faced and rushed off, muttering about studying and contracting leprosy.
"What do you want?" Harry hissed, his green eyes in slits and he glared up at the other man, more annoyed about his height than ever.
"Nothing I don't already have." And then they were touching, a light touch, a familial touch, a soft pat on the shoulder, something he would give Ron after a Quidditch game well done. But from Ootori, he couldn't help but feel an electric charge of arousal sail through him after the contact. And then he turned swiftly, stalking out of the room, Harry's eyes trailing his exit with confusion.
Wednesday he got chocolates, well, he would have gotten chocolates, but seeing as they were placed on his normal chair in the Host Club, Hunny had presumably gotten to them first, leaving nothing but the carton and a small jade green wrapper that was probably chosen because of Harry's eyes. And he couldn't even be mad at Hunny, because well, if he was mad that would mean he was anticipating Ootori's shady plan, and seeing as he wasn't exactly sure just what the plan was, he didn't exactly know just how to feel.
Thursday Ootori took him grocery shopping, well, he followed him around the market, his comforting (and just when did he feel comforting) presence always behind him, his large hands sometimes resting on Harry's shoulder in a light touch that screwed with his mind. The instant coffee aisle earned Harry more physicality, lingering touches and even a stroking finger at his neck that made Harry sure the next time he was around any form of coffee his pants would probably tighten uncomfortably.
Friday earned him a dinner invitation and a pin, because apparently, English commoners pinned their respective partners, and Harry was too flummoxed to correct him that that probably hadn't happened since the fifties. The dinner was nice, a fancy restaurant for Harry, a commoner restaurant for Ootori.
At the end of their meal, Ootori instructed the waiter to bring out desert, that they were celebrating their anniversary. As soon as the other man left, Harry turned his eyes on Ootori, who was leaning back in the chair, looking all the suave man he was, his hands steepled, and his expression masked.
"How long have we been dating Ootori…" Harry said, folding his napkin as neatly as he could with shaking fingers. "I didn't think one date constituted a relationship."
"Five months, Harry." Ootori said, his face still neutral. "You agreed to my courtship then."
Harry cocked his head, trying to come up with what had happened five months ago, other than his arrival a month prior. It took a good few minutes, Ootori, never even shifting from discomfort as Harry viewed him, trying to see just where this was going, what Ootori was insinuating.
"You don't mean what I said with the idiot."
A smirk formed.
"I said I'd marry you over him… that?"
A smile formed.
"You could have at least informed me of our relationship."
"I thought you were agreeable to our union, I didn't think you would need any help figuring it out. I'd been particularly physical with you."
"So you are agreeable to our relationship."
"That's good, I'd already informed my family of our union. Apparently, the Potter's are a respected family, they are all quite pleased with my choice of a future spouse."