mijan | Impromptu Crack-fic from the NYC slasher meetup

I couldn't help myself. We were sitting there at dinner, and someone said something about Draco forcing Harry to get his eyebrows waxed. And the automatic response was, "Oooh! Must write that!" So, I bummed some notebook paper from someone, and a pencil from someone else, and scribbled down a baby crack-fic.

On demand, I've typed it up, done some minor edits to smooth the writing, and... here it is!

Follicle Follies

“I changed my mind.”

“Then I’m changing it back for you.” Draco grabbed Harry by the arm and dragged him bodily through the door of the salon. “You’re growing a damn unibrow! How can I, Draco Malfoy, be seen dating a man with a unibrow?!?”

Harry wrenched his arm free and grumbled, “It’s not a unibrow! You found two hairs in the middle there. Just two! And you already plucked them!”

“Yes,” Draco said reasonably, “But there are lighter hairs that you can’t see. Yet. And they’ll turn dark and horrible and you’ll have a unibrow before you know it if we don’t take drastic measures immediately.”

“You don’t seem to mind the hideous, disfiguring facial scar.”

Draco didn’t miss a beat. “Well, you need your claim to fame if you want to date me.”

Harry scowled.

“And you could use that concealer I bought you.”

Harry stopped cold and folded his arms across his chest. “I am not wearing makeup.”

Draco smirked. “I’m still determined to see you in eyeliner.”

“No.”

The smirk became suggestive. “Come on, Harry. You’ll look so sexy in it.”

“No.”

“And it’ll look even sexier once you’ve rid yourself of the unibrow of doom.”

“That’s IT. I’m leaving."

Draco grabbed his arm again. “Wait, Harry. Come on, it’s not going to be that bad.”

Harry spun around to face him. “They’re going to rip my follicles out by the roots!”

Draco paused thoughtfully. “You don’t seem to mind when I do that.”

Harry raised one very accusing finger and opened his mouth as if to shoot of a scathing retort, but he never got a chance. A witch with hair that had been dyed five different colours and more facial piercings than Harry could count came out into the waiting area.

“Mr… Potter?” She looked up and blinked, then grinned. “Mr. Potter, we’re ready for you.”

Harry looked at Draco imploringly. “Draco… please…?”

“Not a chance. You’ll thank me when this is over.” He turned and winked roguishly at the witch. “He’s all yours.”

The witch smiled, then hesitated. “So… are the rumours true? Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy.”

Draco frowned. “Is there a problem with that?”

“Oh no!” she said quickly. “Not at all. I’ve heard it around, but I’d rather get information from the source than make assumptions.”

Draco sniffed. “A wise approach.”

She beamed. “And… actually… I was wondering if you’d be interested in a threesome.”

In a heartbeat, both Harry and Draco were wearing matching expressions, akin to having been kicked in the stomach. By a Centaur. Harry was the first to recover enough to speak. Sort of. “Whaaaa…?”

The witch merely snapped her gum and shrugged. “Hey, it was a thought. But now, the hot wax is ready and waiting, so if you’ll follow me…”

Feeling nervous, Harry took a step to follow to follow her, but suddenly found himself restrained. “What now?” he asked, exasperated, as he turned back to look at Draco.

Draco had suddenly gone completely straight-faced. “Miss, I do believe that Harry is rather uncertain about this… procedure, and has changed his mind.”

“What???” Harry shook his head in surprise.

“Mr. Malfoy,” the witch said sweetly, “if he’s scared, I’ll be sure to comfort him.”

The stoic expression instantly turned just a bit crazed. “That’s what I’m afraid of!” He grabbed Harry and stormed out the door. “We’re going home. No witch, wizard, or brazen hussy is putting hot wax on ANY part of your body while I live and breathe!”

Harry stumbled along behind Draco for a few steps before pulling him to a halt on the sidewalk. “Hey, hold on. What about the alleged unibrow? Does that mean my follicles are safe from torture and certain death?”

Draco suddenly smiled.   Actually, it was more of a devious smirk. “I never said I wasn’t going to put hot wax on you!”

With a wink, Draco turned and ambled away with an easy stride. Trying to ignore the sinking sense of doom, Harry squared his shoulders and took off after his boyfriend. He could only hope he came out of this alive.

“Oh, and Harry,” Draco called back over his shoulder. “We’re doing the eyeliner too.”

That night, all eyeliner mysteriously vanished from Great Britain. And Draco Malfoy slept on the living room couch.