Buses

WB: Lovelies, we have finally, finally updated. Is anyone even still with us? *Listens to the resounding silence*. Oh dear.

Britney: WB is lovely and amazing! She had the first half of this done months ago, it’s my fault it’s taken us so long to update. And even though it seems like it, we don’t take turns to update late. *shifty eyes*

Thank you for all the feedback, and please try not to be discouraged by the somewhat slow updates.

Chapter Three

Draco Malfoy took his jacket off his coat rack and slid it on, revelling in the feel of top-notch leather and hand-stitched seams. He stooped to pick up his briefcase and walked out of the door, which was being held open by his aged butler.

“Thank you Dobby,” Draco said, inclining his head. Dobby bowed and moved inside, closing the door behind Draco.

It was raining again. Draco's chaperone was standing at the door, armed with an umbrella, and he quickly huddled Draco under it, before leading them both to the limo parked outside Draco's town house. Draco got into the car, the door being closed behind him, and took off his now-wet jacket.

“Straight to work, sir?” Draco looked up and shook his head.

“No thank you Charlie, drop me off at that bus stop again,” Draco told the man at the wheel, who gave him a confused look but started the car anyway, beginning to drive.

“Again sir? What's got you so interested?” Charlie asked, pulling out into the traffic. Draco smirked to himself, gazing out of the tinted windows at the passerby's. The smirk was small and secretive, softer than his usual expressions.

“Just someone I've seen around,” Draco murmured, more to himself than anyone else, breath fogging up the glass. “And stick to your job, stop asking such personal questions.”

~*~

Harry looked down at his watch, sighing angrily. The bus was ten minutes late, and it was soaking. The shelter was crammed with old people and mothers who glared at him whenever he made a move towards them, so he was forced to stand out in the blistering cold with a few other men while the women all huddled in the protection the shelter provided.

Harry was shivering, cursing his lack of foresight. He'd been lulled into a false sense of security by the lack of rain they'd experienced over the past few days and, as such, hadn't brought an umbrella or protective coat, just donning his usual jeans and worn out hoodie. Now he had his hands tucked under his armpits to try and find some warmth, his clothing soaked through.

Therefore, he understandably felt relief flood through him at the sight of the bus rattling down the road, pulling to a stop by the crowd gathered at the bus stop. The doors swung open, inviting them into the relatively warmer interior.

Harry couldn't help groaning as everyone rushed to the doors and queued, which left Harry second from the end. An elderly man in front of him turned and gave him a disapproving look. Harry stared back at him flatly. The guy had been under the shelter, he was nice and dry.

Finally, Harry was aboard the bus, and he barely withheld a moan as warmth hit him. He must have looked ridiculous, a blissfully happy look on his face, hair plastered to his face and clothing hanging off him limply and heavily.

He sat down in the first spare seat he could find, not particularly caring who was sat next to him so long as he was allowed to relax.

“My, don't you look delicious.” Harry wished he'd paid more attention.

“Hell,” he snarled to himself, letting his eyes slowly drift to the handsome blond man sitting next to him, a satisfied twinkle in his grey eyes. Why did God hate him? Seriously, Harry wasn't anything special, he'd only shop lifted a couple of times in his rebellious teenage years, and okay, he used the Lord's name in vain, but surely he didn't deserve this.

No one deserved this.

“More like heaven, really,” Draco returned, fingering a lock of damp black hair. “You must be freezing.” Harry noted Draco looked particularly dry.

“No,” Harry responded spitefully, worried Draco would try to snuggle up to him. However, Draco wasn't deterred by his sharp answer and wrapped his arms around Harry's waist, bringing him to sit on his lap.

“I told you I'm not cold!” Harry growled out, struggling. Draco groaned and tightened his arms.

“Mm, I love it when you pretend to struggle,” he murmured into Harry's ear, which promptly flushed bright red. Harry immediately stilled.

“There, I knew you were cold,” Draco said smugly. Harry let out a desperate sound. It seemed impossible to stop this bloke's molesting ways.

Harry ignored the little voice in his head which urged him to cuddle Draco. Because that voice was probably Draco trying to control his mind. Right.

‘I am not going to cuddle a bloke, I’m not going to cuddle a bloke!’ Harry chanted. In his head. If God was so obviously set against him having a normal day, then he would solve all his problems himself. Yeah, if Draco was trying to control his mind, then Harry would so win because he had created a chant. And chants obviously always worked against mind control.

When the blond shot him a faux hurt look Harry realised that he had, in fact, been chanting out loud. Damn.

“You didn’t seem to mind cuddling a bloke before, in fact, I would go as far as to say that you liked it.” Harry couldn’t see it but he was sure Draco was smirking. The bastard.

“About that,” Harry replied, frowning “I’m afraid I was very, very drunk, and I had no idea what I was doing!” the words came out of his mouth before they even registered in his head and he inwardly groaned. He was the King of crappy excuses, but that really took the cake. Even his mouth was against him.

“You drink that early in the morning?” the other man asked sceptically and clicked his tongue in disapproval “I’m disappointed in you.”

“Whatever,” Harry replied, resisting the urge to stick his tongue out childishly.

“So, apart from looking absolutely delectable, what is that you do?” Draco asked, genuine curiosity creeping into his voice. Harry might have actually believed he was interested if it weren’t for the pair of hands groping his thighs. The sneaky bastard was just trying to distract him so he could cop a feel. As if he thought Harry was stupid enough to fall for a trick he had tried to pull many times himself. The fool.

“Apart from being weird-” Harry paused to slap the hands away from his lap. “-And annoying, what is that you do?”

“Oh, nothing, I find that doing both and looking this good takes up all my time.” The blond said haughtily and gave a warm chuckle, which was something Harry thought would be rather hard to do for someone that arrogant, but he guessed the guy just liked surprising him.

“Then maybe taking the bus and putting up with you takes up all of mine.” Harry replied sarcastically.

“Oh, so quick with the come backs,” Draco exclaimed proudly, hugging Harry closer to his chest “Where have you been all my life?”

“I don’t know, but I’m thinking of going back,” the brunette mumbled back, trying to pull away from the taller man’s embrace.

“You wound me, you know that?” He sniffed, crocodile tears glistening in his eyes. Harry rolled his eyes at his idiocy.

“I try my best.”

“Wound me all you like, as long as you’ll kiss my boo-boo’s better,” Draco replied without missing a beat, and Harry stared at him incredulously. That was almost as bad as quoting Winnie the Pooh. Almost.

“You didn’t just say that, did you?” Harry asked just to make he wasn’t hearing things.

“I think I just did,” Draco replied nonchalantly, grinning at the look Harry shot at him.

“You are one weird guy!”

“I told you, you may call me Draco.”

“Why should I when you don’t know my name?” Harry asked triumphantly, glad he finally had something to hang over the guy’s head. Now, if only his head would stay in one place then things would start looking up.

“Fair enough, would you do me the honour of telling me your name?” Draco asked hopefully.

“Uh, hell no,” Harry replied, thinking of all the bad things that could come about from the blond simply knowing his name. He could, for example, look for his name on the phone directory, find his address and stalk him. That, alone, would be enough to push him over the edge.

“Very well,” Draco said resolutely, “I shall call you honey bunch from now on then.”

“You wouldn’t dare!” Harry hissed.

“Try me,” the blond said, smirking evilly, and just like that, Harry knew. The man was the spawn of the devil. How had he not realised sooner? What with his blond hair, perfect smile, flawless skin and expensive looking clothes.

“My name’s Harry, are you happy now?” Harry replied, and sighed for the umpteenth time. It seemed like it was to him anyway.

“It’s beautiful,” Draco suddenly announced, looking at Harry with barely restrained approbation.

“What is?” Harry asked, suddenly very confused.

“Your name,” the blond answered, exasperation very clear in his tone.

“Oh, you’re so corny.”

“It was worth a try anyway.” Harry felt the other male shrug his shoulders indifferently and rolled his eyes.

“Whatever you say Mr. President,” he replied sarcastically.

“Oh, Harry, I never knew you thought so highly of me.”

“Shut up foo....” Harry trailed off, looking around the bus in confusion “What is that?” the question was directed more to himself than it was at Draco.

“What?” the blond asked anyway, and even though couldn’t see it, he was certain the blond was probably looking at him like he was crazy. As if he had room to judge.

“That noise!” Harry whispered back, suddenly very freaked out because it seemed like he was the only one that could hear it apparently.

“Beep, beep, beep!” the noise blared incessantly, and Draco, finally hearing it, looked around in confusion.

“What the bloody hell is that noise?” a ruffian shouted from the back. His enquiry was answered by silence. The bus came to a sudden stop. Harry looked around in confusion. He had no idea where this place was. “Hey, why are we stoppin’?”

“Is that a bomb beeping?!” an old lady squealed, which immediately alerted the other passengers of their apparent danger, all of whom instantaneously jumped to their feet.

“What?! Shit, get out, get out you idiot!” a teenage boy shouted, pushing another boy towards the fire exit. A few others, as if just then noticing the fire exit, also starting scrambling towards it, completely ignoring the normal exit, which incidentally did not have any traffic.

Harry watched the crowd, completely awed. In all his years of getting the bus he had never once encountered anything as bizarre as what was unfolding. He had heard of self-preservation but things were getting slightly ridiculous. There seemed to be around a hundred babies all crying at the same time. He was certain his head would explode at any given time. But he was still enjoying the show.

“We’re all gonna’ die!” someone piped up from the back “We’re doomed!”

“I can’t have that, I’ve got three babies!” a woman sobbed loudly from somewhere in front. Harry rolled his eyes. Mothers.

“Calm down folks, we’ve just overheated is all!” the bus driver’s deep voice boomed from the front of the bus, but most people didn’t pay him any mind.

“Over heated?! But its freezing!”

“And it’s raining!”

“Everyone please, calm down and get back to your seats, I’ll call the station and confirm when the next bus is coming to this stop!” the bus driver shouted again, waving his phone around as if to emphasize his point. Most of the passengers sat back down but others stubbornly remained standing just in case there was actually a bomb and they would need to squeeze through the small windows to survive. The driver stepped off the bus a minute later and a few people groaned.

“If I die while he’s standing out there I’m gonna’ come back and haunt him.”

“This is quite exciting isn’t it?” Draco whispered. “Stuck on an exploding bus with only you to fulfil my dying wish.”

“And why would I do that?” Harry asked, genuinely interested.

“Oh, you know you want to.” Draco leered, and winked.

“Of all the people to be stuck with, it just had to be you didn’t it?” Harry sighed tiredly, praying to all known deities that his suffering would soon end.

“See? It’s destiny, someday you’ll see that too.”

“I’d rather be blind than have to see that.”

They lapsed into a somewhat comfortable silence, which left Harry to wonder why things never went right for him. Perhaps he had committed some unforgivable crime when he was younger and this was karma. Yeah, that was it. But then again, maybe it really was because he used the lord’s name in vain. He really needed to stop doing that.

He was dragged out of his musings when he felt a finger slowly making a trail up his abdomen. He tried to convince himself that he shivered because the finger was cold and most certainly not because he liked the sensation.

“Your skin is softer than I thought it would be,” Draco mumbled playfully, lips pressed against his neck.

“This molestation has to stop now!” Harry shouted and everyone turned their attention to him. He bowed his head, mortified, when he noticed that everyone was suddenly staring at him. Perhaps shouting whilst in a bus, on another man's lap, was a bad idea. He would have to remember that in the future.

“Kids these days,” he heard an old woman mutter loudly to her husband who was shaking his head in disapproval.

“Perhaps you should have been a little quieter, Harry,” Draco pointed out helpfully.

“It’s all your fault!” the brunette whispered harshly, frowning. The tosser was blatantly teasing him.

“But, if you’re this loud in bed you won’t hear me complaining,” Draco continued as if Harry hadn’t spoken, a thoughtful expression on his face.

“What-ty?” Harry sputtered, half embarrassed, half irritated. He turned around and aimed a punch at the blonde’s smug face, but instead missed and hit the handle bars on the seat. “Oww, my hand.” He cried, bemoaning his bad luck at meeting an annoying person like Draco.

“Here, let me kiss it better for you love,” the blond said soothingly, trying to pry Harry’s injured hand from his chest “You do need to be more careful though, Harry.”

“No,” Harry grumbled moodily. “Touch me and die.” He had bruised his hand, but his pride was mostly intact and he liked to keep it that way. Draco however didn’t heed the warning and lifted the short teen’s hand closer to his lips.

“You’re worth the premature death though,” he murmured and slowly placed a gentle kiss on each of Harry’s fingers. Harry tried not to blush too much because Draco would just take it as an incentive to carry on. Which was something Harry obviously didn’t want to do. Obviously.

“This was the only one that was hurt,” Harry said belatedly and raised his middle finger at the blond.

“Ohh, you’re so feisty!” Draco cooed excitedly, once again pulling him closer to his chest.

“Get off.” Harry glared at him, just for good measure.

“I’m going to have to get off here,” Draco murmured against Harry’s neck regretfully. “Don’t want to be late.”

“Like I care,” Harry mumbled back, and stood up to let him go.

He would never admit it, but he missed the warmth already- but that was only because it was cold out, so he would accept any warmth offered to him, even if it was from Draco, or the old woman shivering near the back; it was just his misfortune that Draco hadn’t really given him much of a choice.

“See you later Harry-love.”

“Don’t call me that.” But the blond was apparently already gone because his complaint was followed by a stretch of silence. He sighed, leaning his head on the seat in front of him.

He was startled when a warm jacket was placed over his shoulders and someone had the audacity to kiss his head. He looked up to find Draco smirking down at him. He really didn’t like the guy. But he was going to keep his jacket because he was cold. Not at all because it smelled like him. Right.

“Damn it, I forgot my vow to kill that bastard.” Harry, once again, bemoaned his bad luck at meeting a smug bastard like Draco.

TBC