desire .

That Touch Of Pink

ao3 author: peachpety

summary: Harry is tickled pink by Draco's Halloween costume.

Harry orders the next round from the Dracula behind the bar and props himself up next to Ron to wait, surveying the costumed crowd from under the sailor hat tilted jauntily on his head.

On stage, The Golden Snitches, dressed like the Hex Girls, rock the pub. Ginny wails into the microphone, and Pansy leans against her, working her fingers over the guitar, their magic sparkling around them. Harry’s magic buzzes excitedly with them. It’s a perfect Halloween night, a night for losing yourself in the anonymity of a costume…

And in the touch of a stranger.  

“Sexy nurse, 4 o’clock,” Ron mutters into his drink, adjusting his cowboy hat. 

Harry had already clocked the nurse and while she’s very appealing, the bloke wearing a tophat, booty shorts and tails with no shirt may be the frontrunner for the evening. 

“Me thinks Tophat and Tails over there,” Harry says, indicating the bloke across the pub with a lift of his chin.

The bloke winks and Harry chuckles, sliding his gaze away. 

The evening is young, there’s time to play.

“Brilliant.” Ron grins. “Besides, I’m the cowboy in need of some medical attention tonight.” He wiggles his brows beneath his Stetson. 

They clink together their beer bottles, and Harry nods his head to the beat that Luna taps out on the drums, letting his attention be captured by the pub door opening.

And his jaw drops.

The bar, the band, the people all fade away and the only thing filling his vision, his mind and, if he’s honest, his cock, is Draco fucking Malfoy in head-to-toe pink — pink bodysuit, long pink tail, little pink ears peeking out of pink hair, for fuck’s sake.

Malfoy pauses at the entrance resting his hand on his canted hip for dramatic effect, the beautiful bastard, though he needn’t have bothered. Harry can’t believe he had the bollocks to show up dressed like that. His eyes trail down Malfoy’s lean body on display, over a sharp collarbone, the swell of a bicep, firm nipples, taut abdomen…  

And speaking of bollocks… 

“Oh, bloody hell,” Ron says, dropping his head back and sighing at the ceiling. He glances at Harry and shakes his head. “Well, fuck. That takes care of that.”

“What?” Harry says, absently, eyes trained on Malfoy.

Ron snorts. “Exactly.”

Malfoy lifts a long cigarette holder to his lips and only starts his strut through the crowd when every eye is trained on him. And everyone is definitely looking, Harry notes. 

“Pfft,” Harry exhales through tight lips. “As if I care about Malfoy.”

And the feeling seems to be mutual. Malfoy pointedly ignores Harry, clearly not caring one whit about him, lavishing his smile on everyone, and especially the bloke in the tophat and tails. A growling twinge settles deep in Harry’s chest.