The Perils of Losing a Bet

[bleedingangel84]

Title: The Perils of Losing a Bet

Author: bleedingangel84

Characters: Harry/Draco, Blaise, 2 OCs, Filch, Madam Pince

Warnings: Sexually suggestive dialogue, mention of cross-dressing and collars

Rating: PG-13

Word Count: 450

Summary: Draco loses a bet.

Disclaimer: Don’t own the boys, so please don’t sue.

Written for: JMDC prompt #79- What will the neighbors think?

A/N: Once again, no beta, so if you see any errors, feel free to point them out to me. This was a fun one to write. Hope you like it. Feedback and concrit are welcome.

 

The Perils of Losing a Bet

“Draco! Are you ready yet?” Harry called, glancing worriedly at his watch.

“Keep your knickers on Potter, I’m coming,” Draco replied.

“If you aren’t out here in ten minutes, I’m leaving without you,” Harry warned, impatience in his voice.

“You do that and you’ll get nothing from me for a week, Potter. Not even a blowjob. And we both know how much you like those,” Draco teased sweetly.

“Draco, you wouldn’t really do that to me, would you?” Harry asked, feeling a sinking sensation in his stomach at the threat.

“Try leaving without me and find out,” Draco replied.

“No, I think I’ll wait for you. Can’t rush perfection, after all,” Harry reasoned.

“Smart move, Potter. Now let’s go. Blaise is probably waiting for us at the club,” Draco told him.

“Draco, what in the world are you wearing?” Harry asked, incredulous.

“Why, don’t you think I look good?” Draco questioned.

Harry gazed at him, slowly taking in the black leather miniskirt, Gryffindor red top and long black leather boots. When he found his voice again, it had grown husky.

“Actually, you look quite hot like that. What on Earth possessed you to do this?” he inquired.

“I lost a bet with Blaise, if you must know,” Draco answered irritably, “I bet him that I could get old Bernie Entwhistle in the Magical Parcels Department a date, but the old codger is beyond help, apparently. Even Madam Pince refused to entertain the notion.”

“Draco, everyone knows Madam Pince likes Filch. She has for years,” Harry informed him, suddenly overtaken by laughter at Draco’s expression of disgust and revulsion.

“Merlin’s wrinkled balls, Harry! I didn’t want to know that,” Draco exclaimed, shaking his head as if to erase the knowledge.

Still laughing, Harry got their coats from the closet.

“I wonder what old Mrs. Nesmith next door will think of this? You know she’s probably going to be watching us leave. I think the woman sleeps by her window. Is that a collar?”

Draco’s lips thinned and Harry sobered, recognizing the danger signal.

“A Malfoy never backs down from a bet, even when he loses. Let’s go so we can get this over, please,” Draco pleaded.

“You know, Draco, you look fabulous no matter what you wear. In fact, I’ll bet you that by the end of the night, you’ll be begging to wear that outfit again,” Harry stated.

Eyeing Harry’s interested cock with a mischievous gleam in his eye, Draco smiled.

“One of us, will be begging, Potter, but it won’t be me.”

With a confident sway of his hips, Draco moved toward the door, leaving Harry following behind.

Let the old neighbor gawk if she wanted, but Draco was his.