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written for the @drarrymicrofic prompt: Dangerous by Big Data, Joywave. (a sherlock reference? in a drarry microfic? more likely than you think.)
“My flat. Come if convenient. DM.”
Harry frowns and sets his phone down decisively, leaving the text unanswered.
A minute later: “If inconvenient, come anyway. DM.”
Harry’s lips almost, almost, quirk in amusement but he flattens them quickly and takes a swig from his pint, ignoring the text. He had meant what he had said the last time they had done this. It was the last.
Another text: “Could be dangerous. DM.”
“God damn it,” Harry mutters, even though he can already feel his heart accelerating in anticipation. Whether it’s the adrenaline high he’s addicted to or it’s Draco himself who’s the addiction— Harry’s no good at resisting temptation.
Downing his pint, he throws a few sickles onto the bartop, and pushes his way out of the pub and into a nearby alley. He palms his wand and apparates to Draco’s, blood singing, a euphoric smile playing at his lips.