The Muggle

Harry whimpered as Draco ground his hips against him into the bed, biting his neck and sending scalding shivers of pleasure through Harry's body. Harry bit his lip, stifling a moan, when suddenly Draco stopped moving against him, holding himself still.

"Well, Harry?" he breathed against Harry's ear, with a hint of a growl in his voice. Draco reached around Harry, sliding his right hand with painful slowness into Harry's pants.

"Yes!" Harry pleaded, desire thick in his voice and his breath vibrating with lust.

"Great, let's go, Pumpkin Pie," Draco said, springing from his panting boyfriend.

****

Harry radiated indignation as Draco swept open the doors to Nordstrom. "I cannot believe you did that just to go shopping," Harry said between clenched teeth.

Draco chuckled and reached behind him, pulling Harry up against his chest. "What do you think changing rooms are for, Harry?" he asked, arching an pale eyebrow into his boyfriend's flushed face. Harry stared up at Draco, the wheels that churn in all lusty young men's minds starting to crank. "They have full length mirrors," Draco said in a suggestive voice.

Harry reached behind him, blindly grabbing the first thing he touched. "Let's go try this on?" he said breathlessly.

Draco's eyebrows rose in surprise. "Darling, I didn't know you had that side to you."

Harry looked at his token the pleasure chamber otherwise known as the dressing room. He blushed scarlet and dropped the flesh-toned brassiere as though it were the Book of Monsters, and began to sputter quite charmingly.

"Really, Harry, if I had only known..." Draco mused, giving Harry's body a calculated roving glance. "But I think an emerald corset with black satin ribbons would flatter you more," he said wickedly, squeezing Harry's arse before turning to pull out corsets for his beloved's humiliated inspection.

A fifty-year old women gasped in Catholic indignation, and began to rant about homosexuals and their disgusting and debauching ways. She fled the Ladies Lingerie Section, calling for her teenage daughter to make all haste as to avoid being contaminated by yonder heathens. The girl, who looked to be about seventeen, stared in awe at Harry and Draco, and mouthed, "Take me with you," as her mother beckoned with a crusader's fervor.

Draco fluttered his eyelashes at her, and in the name of charity, gave Harry a rather scorching kiss and one very thorough squeeze to the Chosen One's arse.

****

"Hi! Can I help you with anything?" he asked, smiling brightly.

Draco cast a glance at the man's attire. Square toed boot with those buttons? Ha! Draco thought derisively. The man continued to smile, and Draco began to assess his worth. Perhaps he could be made a pack mule, bringing Draco's selections back to Harry?

"Could you please take this back to Harry and tell him to wear it with the aquamarine shirt? He's in dressing room four," he said in the slow and measured voice he'd come to think was all too necessary for fashionless fools such as the one before him.

"Certainly," the man chirped. "My name's Bernardo. Please feel free to ask if you have any fashion questions," he added as he walked away with the black trousers Draco had picked out for Harry.

Draco gave him a pitying smile and returned to perusing the selection proffered before him, him, the King of Clothing, the Emperor of What's Hot and What's Not, the Scion of Fashion, the Blessed of the Beautiful, Winner of Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile Award, Winner of Witch Weekly's Best Wizarding Fashion Sense Award, the Supreme--"

"What are you wearing?" he gasped, staring at his beautiful boyfriend, shackled in a disaster of an orange sequined muscle shirt and those lovely black pants he'd chosen.

"Doesn't he look fabulous?" Bernardo sighed, staring hungrily at Harry's slender, but toned physique. "Oh, let me straighten that out for you," he murmured, tugging at Harry's clothes.

"I think Ron would really like this shirt!" Harry said excitedly. "Maybe I'll give it to him for his birthday." He gave Draco a dazzling smile.

"Oh, is Ron your boyfriend?" Bernardo asked, feinting disinterest as he dusted off a nonexistent piece of lint on Harry's chest.

"Oh no--" Hary began.

"I am," Draco said, shooting Bernardo an icy smile. "Harry, why don't you go take that off before I kill something cute and fuzzy," he said in a lazy voice. Draco turned his attention to Bernardo. "I told you to tell him to wear the aquamarine shirt." Had he not spoken slowly enough? Did the Muggle not know that aquamarine was a shade of blue. Draco felt a great surge of pity for the man.

"Oh, do you want any help, Harry?" Bernardo asked, turning to go into the dressing room.

The surge of pity drained and turned into a desert of hate, hate, HATE.

"Could you send Draco in?" Harry called.

Draco marched past Bernardo, pausing to give him a look of death and hate, hate HATE before entering Harry's room. His hands were clenched into fists and his jaw set in Malfoy determination. So he was rather disarmed when a naked Harry pressed Draco against the wall and began undoing his belt buckle.

"You promised," Harry said, biting into Draco's shoulder.

Draco's only response was to angle their bodies so they faced the mirror.

****

Twenty minutes later, an extremely self-satisfied Draco sauntered out of the dressing room followed by a rumpled looking Harry, who tumbled along in Draco's wake. Harry had been sad to see the orange muscle shirt get tossed into the next dressing room, but Draco had more than made up for any attachment Harry had for the thing.

"Oh, you're not getting the Marc Jacobs top?" Bernardo asked as he rang up their purchase.

"Of course not," Draco said tersely, tapping his Nordstrom card against the counter. Bernardo brought the pen up to his mouth, sucking on it slightly as he looked at Harry. Harry blinked and edged closer to Draco, looping his fingers into Draco's belt loop, a tell-tale sign of his nervousness in the presence of aggressively sexual Muggles.

Draco rolled his eyes. Trust Harry to not catch on until the very end....

"Dammit Muggle, hurry up! Just swipe the card already," Draco said under his breath as Bernardo continued to make eyes at Harry.

"Excuse me? What did you call me?" Bernardo demanded.

"A Muggle, you fool," Draco snapped, glaring at the Muggle's self-righteous indignation.

"A what?"

"A fashionless fag!" Draco snarled, throwing down a hundred pounds, grabbing Harry's wrist, and storming out of the store.

"Where are we going, hunny?" Harry asked.

"Shopping. It'll make me feel better."