Leather and Glitter

Title: Leather and Glitter
Author: frk_werewolf
Fandom: Harry Potter
Rating: R
Pairing: Ron/Draco
Warnings: Cross-Dressing, Language, Sexual Scene
Summary: 'Ron gulped and pulled his leather jacket tighter around himself. Why had he come here again?'
Notes: for the cross-community challenge on andropotterist and hunkwarts on livejournal => a hunky Harry Potter character should meet up with an androgynous Harry Potter character and interact in some way.

For the life of him, Ron did not know what he was doing there. This had to be the stupidest idea he's had since seventh year. And seventh year, Merlin forbid he actually remembers, was not his fault. Though, Seamus insisted it was his fault. The poor Irishman was still trying to get his pubic hair to return to it's natural color. This was worse than that. This was... This was just wrong.

There was a strange music playing in the background, while bodies twisted into obscene positions on the dance floor. A charm had been cast, resulting in the air actually changing into color. The people, oh Merlin, the people... Ron gulped and pulled his leather jacket tighter around himself. Why had he come here again?

Oh, right. The Talk, as he now titled it. Ron muttered a curse at Hermione, despite her not being present. Where did she get off telling him he wasn't gay enough, anyway? This wasn't even a gay club... It was something, though. Ron blinked in shock, tilting his head slightly as a man walked past. Was that a pink thong? Oh, Merlin, what had he gotten himself into?

It was at that moment that Ron realized he was the only manly man there. This, of course, did not help his self-confidence. He was uncomfortable as it was. Once again, he pulled his leather jacket tighter, thinking it to be a shield. Taking a deep breath, Ron dived into the crowd of sweaty, make-up clad men and fought his way to the bar. He really needed a drink.

Four Firewhiskeys and one muggle drink called Sex On the Beach later, Ron was feeling just a tad tipsy. Not enough to alter his judgment, he wasn't that stupid. Just enough, though, to get him onto the dance floor.

The pounding beat of the music vibrated the floor. Ron could feel the sweat-slicked bodies, even through his jacket and jeans. They pressed up against him, thrusting and spinning. Breathing hard in his ear, while he panted into another's. Ron had to admit to himself, he was having fun. He had never let himself go like this. He was dancing with people he didn't know, getting groped from behind, and someone had just licked his ear. But that just added to the experience.

He was so submerged into his dance, into the pounding beat, that he didn't notice the person behind him being pushed out of the way. A new, smaller body was dancing behind him now. A pair of hands slinked their way around his waist. Even through the thundering crowd, he could hear the sly whisper in his ear.

"Never thought I'd see a Weasley here."

Ron's body stiffened immediately. His carefree attitude vanished and he untangled himself from the man behind him. Throwing a dirty looking over his shoulder, Ron began pushing his way out of the club. He didn't acknowledge the blonde man behind him. He refused to notice him. Slipping out the door, Ron took a moment to stare at yet another skimpy clothed man, before pulling out a pack of cigarettes from his jacket.

"I hear those can kill you." The same sly voice commented from next to him.

Ron gulped, slipping the cigarettes back into his pocket, and finally turned to look at his new companion. Draco Malfoy looked nothing like he did a year ago. A year ago, seventh year to be precise, the Slytherin dressed just like his father. Now, Draco looked the complete opposite. Ron blamed it on the Dark Lord's defeat. It had to be the only explanation as to why Draco was standing next to him, shivering in the cold, and wearing a skirt. No, not just a skirt, a mini-skirt. Made of leather.

Ron once again pulled his leather jacket closer to his body.

Ron mind was working overtime by now. He was trying to acknowledge Draco in drag, while at the same time ignoring his existence. It wasn't easy, and Ron had a feeling he was failing. Draco's gray eyes kept staring at him, filled with amusement and coated in black eyeliner and pink glitter. Glitter, for Merlin's sake! It didn't stop at his eyes, either. No, the Slytherin had put it on his cheeks, in his hair. The light pink halter top even had glitter dusted lightly on it.

It sparkled in the streetlight.

"Tell me, Weasley." Draco said, breaking the silence. Draco's thin, glossed lips curved slightly. "What is a Gryffindor like you doing in a place like this? Get tired of Potter's whip?"

"Shut up, Malfoy." Ron growled.

"Ohhh... Feisty." Draco teased. "I bet that's it. Wanted to find someone to be your slave, instead? Eh, Weasley? Thought you'd come here and find a bunch of submissive fags?"

"..."

"Don't work like that, Weasley." Draco continued. "A lot of guys like you come to these types of clubs. Think we'll just bend over to you leather and boots types, huh?"

"What are you getting at, Malfoy?" Ron asked.

"Nothing really." Draco replied honestly. "It's been a year, Weasley. I have been without your angry face for an entire year. That's quite the hardship. I was hoping for a fight."

"You're deranged." Ron stated.

"Actually, I'm just bored." Draco told him. Ron narrowed his eyes. "What?"

"What are you doing here?"

"Me?" Draco smirked. "What does it look like? I'm here to have fun. I've got so much money, Weasley." Draco sighed, a slightly mournful look appeared on his face. "So much money, I don’t even have to work. Do you know what that's like, Weasley? ...No, I suppose not."

"You've lost your touch." Ron commented, refusing to rise to Draco's bait. "You use to be able to fake your emotions better than that."

"Suppose your right." Draco agreed. His cold eyes grazed over Ron, slowly. Ron zipped up his jacket, as though that would break Draco's gaze. "Wanna have some fun, Weasley?"

"What?" Ron gave Draco a look of pure confusion. What was Malfoy getting at? Ron really didn't want to find out. He had not come here to hook up with anyone, least of all Draco Malfoy.

"You heard me."

"I'm not going to sleep with you, Malfoy." Ron said bluntly. There was no point in beating around the bush.

"Who said anything about sleeping?" Draco asked, innocently.

"Let me rephrase my statement: I'm not doing anything sexual with you, Malfoy." Ron glared.

"Your such a pussy, Weasley." Draco sneered, his eyes flashing. Ron tried not to find the look on Draco's face arousing. Because it wasn't. It was a boy, decked out in glitter, giving him the eye. Nothing sexy or tempting about it.

Ron looked away.

"A pussy in leather." The words were whispered into his ear. Ron jumped as a manicured hand unzipped his leather jacket. Ron wanted to scream no, that was his shield. Lose the jacket and who knows what he would do.

"And a large belt buckle as well? Is it true... What they say about large buckles?"

Oh Merlin, this was not happening. Ron closed his eyes as Draco gently guided him. He didn't know why they were moving, and when he opened his eyes he found that they were now in the alley next to the club. There were stains on the brick wall. Ron forced his eyes closed once more.

Ron felt his t-shirt being pulled out of his jeans. Then, those delicate hands were stroking his stomach. Perfect nails scratched around his bellybutton. They were probably painted pink. The thought made Ron chuckle.

"Find something amusing, Weasley?" Draco asked softly.

"Manicures." Ron stated. He opened his eyes to find Draco scowling at him.

"You..." Was all Draco said, before the blonde rolled his eyes and slipped his hands back under the fabric of Ron's shirt. Ron watched him this time. Draco's hands were merely exploring his chest, causing shivers to fall down his spine. Draco's eyes were what captivated Ron. The steel color was darkening, lids lowered. The black eyeliner made him look exotic.

Ron gulped as his arousal took form.

The hands suddenly forced their way past his belt, under his boxers, to grab at his buttocks. A gasp escaped Ron, and suddenly Draco lips were devouring his own. A delicate tongue, cherry flavored gloss, and glittered eyes that remained open. Ron felt like he was going to explode at any moment.

It took a moment for him to get the nerve to touch Draco back. And when he finally did, he was once again amused. Draco’s skin was soft, so much softer than his own. His was smooth, sure, but it was also worn down from work, both labor and exercise related. Draco's felt like he put on lotion three times a day.

The slender body suddenly thrusted up against his own, resulting in a drawn out moan from both parties. The thrusting continued, Draco in complete control. Ron supposed Draco wouldn't have it any other way. But Ron didn't plan on complaining. Because, Merlin, it felt good. Even through Draco's leather skirt and his denim, Ron could feel every movement.

Ron allowed his hands free movement, no longer caring that this was Draco Malfoy he was touching. His slipped them under the halter top, pinching briefly at Draco's nipples. The Slytherin gasped into his mouth and responded with a bite to his lower lip. Ron grinned into the kiss, before drawing Draco's tongue into his mouth and sucking hard. His hands continued their travel, finally resting on the top curve of Draco's arse.

He could feel the muscles under the leather working as Draco's hips pressed them harder together. The movement was steady, yet building. Draco's lips moved from his own, a pink tongue trailing down his jaw and neck, stopping finally to bite down.

Then suddenly it was gone. Draco's hands. Draco's lips. The skirt covered buttocks that he was just about to squeeze. The wonderful friction that was bringing him closer to release. They disappeared in an instant. Ron blinked owlishly, his eyes searching the dark alleyway for the blonde.

And not for the first time in his life, Ron was confused. It was like Draco had never been there. Ron searched the alley, even entered the club once more. The Slytherin was nowhere to be found. Ron, cursed under his breath and blamed the alcohol. He once again pulled the pack of cigarettes out of his jacket, lit one, and made his way home. He muttered under his breath the entire time, questioning his sanity.

What if Draco had never been there? That was a strange delusion for him to have. Draco Malfoy of all people? Ron snorted. Yeah, right.

That's when he noticed the pink glitter that had been rubbed onto his leather jacket.