Tracking the movement of Potter’s eyes, Draco runs a greasy finger over the thickest of his scars. “You like them, don’t you? Pervert.”
Potter tosses his head back, jostling the mass of his curly fringe from his forehead. “I bet you were into scars long before you had any of your own, Malfoy.”
Yes, Draco wants to say. I want to lick yours. What he says instead is, “Fuck you.”
“Fuck you,” Potter echoes, putting the same pregnant emphasis on the F.
Draco bites his lower lip, wrestling down the rise of euphoria. “Your turn,” he says. “Take that off.”
My entry for H/D Erised 2024 and a gift for one of my favorite authors, shiftylinguini!