Disclaimer: I own the plot only
Warning: slash, death, sex scene, kinda angsty.
Trembling fingers reached into the box of pastels and selected the blood red stick. He carefully smeared color onto full, pouting lips, uncaring for the complaints of his living canvas. He soothed the displeasure of his lover with a gentle hand, carefully stroking blond hair, leaving trails of red streaked through silvery locks.
"I ran out of paper."
His lover arched a delicate eyebrow but said nothing in reply, so he pulled a black stick from the box and drew on the pale chest laid out before him. He marveled at the stark contrast of black on white before sketching out the beginnings of an open hooded cobra ready to strike. He added green to black scales, giving the cobra's body a shimmering effect, and made the eyes golden like his house color.
When his hand strayed downwards, his lover's breath hitched and he found himself reaching for the hard flesh he knew was there. It was with an artist's careful concentration that he grasped the rigid member, making careful strokes, watching with perverse delight as it disappeared into his rainbow colored fist. Draco Malfoy fucking rainbows, how beautiful…
His train of thought was broken by a soft grunt and something he thought was his name. His breath caught in his throat at that, because names were forbidden things with them. They never spoke names, like the power of saying names in pleasure would break them, and they had never wanted each other broken.
"Harry…"
This time he heard his name loud and clear. It shot through him and caused some part of him to come alive. A snarling beast awoke and tore his heart to pieces, efficiently cracking his cool, and causing him to fill with powerful fury.
He must have tightened his grip on Draco because the other boy cried out in pain, his name still on red lips. He didn't want to hear his name, not here, not when it reminded him of their roles. His lips crushed the pale blonde's and he laid over his naked love, trying to forget the war and his part in it. He didn't want to think of his dead friends or his intimate knowledge of the enemy. He had come to his lover for blissful ignorance, not painful recollection, and his name brought about the latter.
"You can't say that here." Each word was punctuated with a thrust against Draco's lower half.
He bit down on Draco's lower lip causing the body beneath him to begin shaking furiously, hips stilling as the pale boy came. It was like watching a volcano erupt all over his hand and the smeary blur that was once a cobra, but was now a blotch of color rubbed onto both their chests.
Pressure built inside him, pulling tight like the taught string of bow, then the bowstring snapped and he came…and came until every pure thing he was got poured out onto Draco in streams of white. He almost collapsed onto the lean body beneath him, but managed to roll to the side before loosing the strength to keep himself suspended as he was.
"I have to go."
He didn't look at the other boy, refused to give in to the urge to trace slash marks he knew were there, and stood up to cloth himself despite his exhausted state.
"Then go."
"Same time tomorrow?"
"Sure," He drawled lazily before buttoning the last button on his shirt.
"This changes nothing. It is a means of release and nothing more."
He smirked at the familiar words, the lies they tried to feed each other everyday for the last few weeks, and continued the memorized pact with a slight shake of his head.
"This means nothing. It is as forgettable as any other encounter."
"Potter."
"Malfoy."
They sneered at each other before he found his eyes drawn to the red lips of his rival. He licked his lips and thought of Draco striding around all day with painted lips. He knew, of course, that Draco would get rid of all evidence of their rendezvous, because getting caught having sex with the enemy was bad. Bad in a tortured and killed on the spot kind of way.
***
He scrubbed at his lips until they bled the same color as the crap that he had allowed to be put on them. Why, oh why, did he ever let Harry Potter treat him like a piece of paper? He wasn't the type of person who let someone walk all over him, but Potter somehow managed to make him feel like he had to obey.
"This changes nothing. It is a means of release and nothing more." He repeated to ease his mind.
It was a bad idea to approach the boy-who-lived with a proposal like the one that he had, but desperate times obviously called for insane measures. It had seemed like a good plan at first… Sex without love, no names to bring about bad memories, and a pact made with blood and magic…one that bound them together.
How could he have known that the other boy's name would fall from his lips in the heat of passion? How could he have known he would live, love? It was unfair to think he should know when he had never once experienced any of it before Harry.
"Draco are you alright in there?"
"Yes, mother. I'm just getting ready for the meeting."
"Don't keep Him waiting."
He took one more look at his reflection in the mirror before turning to go. He met his mother at the stairs and she kissed him on the cheek before he left, maybe that should have clued him in that something was terribly wrong, but his mind was preoccupied with other things.
Voldemort smiled, "My faithful servants…we have a traitor in our midst."
The maniac's grin turned on him and pain filled his mind.
***
"Draco Malfoy, son and friend, who died bravely for a good cause." He read, tracing the words with his fingers. "Should have put, 'got killed for having sex with the enemy.' Would've been closer to the truth."
He kissed the flower in his hands before laying the rose by the grave. He never got to say what he wanted to say, he could only hope that wherever the blond was, Draco knew.
Fin