Author: Jane Delight
Title: Secret
Warnings: slash. Sex. Implied rape.
Disclaimer: Anything you recognise does not belong to me.
Summary: BZDM slash. Mentions of sex. Every Slytherin has secrets, but Blaise is determined to unravel that of one particular boy. Whatever the cost.
A/N: Here! I'm still alive! And I have a lot of spare time coming up, so maybe I'll be able to kick myself to continue Choices and Changes. =)
I wrote this as a Christmas gift to one of my friends... otherwise, this pairing probably would never have been featured in any story of mine :D At the moment it's still a cliffhanger... maybe you'll manage to convince me to continue it (seeing as I have a far more epic story waiting to be continued :D)
Secret
A groan burst out of his mouth as he came. Dimly he registered Blaise's moans and how his own blond hair was sticking to his forehead. Slipping out of the body below him, he lay down on his back, eyes closed.
"Same time next week?"
Blaise was still panting.
"Sure thing."
He felt the mattress move as Blaise got up and as he listened to him putting his trousers back on, Draco noted that sleep was about to descend upon him. He didn't bother to say goodbye, nor did he open his eyes, even after Blaise had left his room. He never opened his eyes, it just wasn't his style. After sex, he just wanted to sleep – he didn't much care for what his sex partner did, as long as he didn't cuddle him or steal anything from his room.
With a last burst of energy, Draco managed to crawl under the covers before succumbing to sleep.
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Irritated, he read the letter in his hands. He was to remain at school over Christmas, which meant his father was hosting the annual 'Death Eater Christmas Get Together'. He just hoped he would spare his mother from attending the "festivities".
Well, at least he'd have the whole house for himself – no Slytherin stayed at home over the holidays unless there was a very good reason for him to do so.
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"What are you doing here?"
Draco was beyond annoyed; he was downright aggravated.
Zabini was sitting in the Common Room, reading a book in front of the fire. The other Slytherins – in fact, the other students – had just left the premises to return home.
Zabini turned his head towards him.
"Well, you did say same time next week"
Draco's forehead scrunched up. He had said that. But surely that was no reason for Zabini to stay here. It wasn't as if Slytherins were known to stick to their word.
"That's no reason for you to stay. No one stays during the holidays without good reason."
Zabini's response only served to anger Draco further. The insolent boy just shrugged and redirected his attention back to his book. Draco couldn't believe his eyes, and only managed to spit out a "see you at ten then" before storming out of the room.
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Zabini's insolence caused Draco's thoughts to dwell on the boy throughout the day. Their relationship, which had started at the beginning of the school year, was purely based on sex. To have the boy stay behind over Christmas, just because Draco had told him to was impossible. There had to be a further motive, a further reason which Draco was unaware of. And so his curiosity was aroused. He would find out Zabini's intentions – he had nothing better to do anyway. That, and the distraction from impending boredom was the only explanation Draco could find as to why a small part of him was glad for the boy's company.
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"You're late" and looking very scrumptious Draco added mentally to his reprimand of Zabini.
The other Slytherin just smirked and walked confidently towards the bed Draco was sitting on. When Zabini was only a few steps away, Draco tried to stand up, but was pushed back onto the bed by the still smirking boy.
"Zabini..." Draco growled. He disliked not being in control and usually, Zabini respected that. This time, however, things appeared to be taking a different path. But Draco was not going to give up that easily. He waited until Zabini was lying on top of him, undoing his shirt, before making his move. In one quick movement he grabbed Zabini and used all his strength to make him turn – reversing their positions. Smirking triumphantly down at the Slytherin, he didn't notice how Zabini was positioning his wand. Caught off guard, Zabini copied Draco's earlier movement – this time combining it with a muttered charm, binding Draco to his bed.
The blond Slytherin gulped. This was not good. He suddenly remembered why he disliked being the submissive one. Too many memories. But Zabini seemed to be doing his best to make him forget them. Draco's trousers had quickly been undone - along with his shirt - by the nimble fingers of the boy, whose fingers were now searching for his cock. And finding it. Draco gasped at the cold sensation and tried to jerk away from it, but didn't succeed due to the bonds. This catapulted him back into the memories he had locked away a long time before, which in turn made him strain against his bonds, making Zabini pause.
"Not good?" The boy asked with a frown.
Draco silently shook his head, eyes pressed shut. Another pause later, he felt the bonds dissolve and quickly grabbed a duvet to cover himself.
"Get out." It didn't sound like an order, but Zabini knew very well that it most certainly was one. Frowning at the blond, he left without another word.
As soon as the door closed, Draco curled up in the fetal position, beneath his thick, warm covers and tried to ward of the dark thoughts about to engulf him. Eventually, he fell asleep.
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It was fucking cold. The dorm rooms always were in winter. That was why they met in Draco's Head Boy room. That, and because no one could burst in unexpectedly.
Putting on all the clothes he could find within reach of his mildly warm bed, Blaise flitted into the even colder bathroom, frowning after glancing into the mirror and seeing his unkempt appearance – especially the rings below his eyes.
It was Malfoy's fault, that much was sure.
The weird incident had happened two nights before and since then Blaise had hardly slept. He wasn't quite sure why he hadn't, seeing as it really was none of his business why Malfoy had reacted the way he had, but his mind just wouldn't put it to rest. Malfoy was keeping a secret – Blaise snorted at the thought. Every Slytherin kept secrets. But still… he had nothing to do anyway, so he might as well sniff around a bit. That, or what would probably be more fruitful – or at least more fun – was to confront Malfoy, who had been elegantly avoiding him since the incident.
Besides, Christmas Eve was fast approaching, and he fully intended to have some Christmas fun with the Malfoy heir.
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"Malfoy, wait up!"
The blond just continued walking. He had heard him though, he was sure of it. Blaise picked up his walking speed, but when Malfoy did too, Blaise decided to break out into a run. Malfoy would never run unless his life depended on it – it just wasn't elegant. So Blaise managed to catch up with Malfoy, grabbing his shoulder to slow the boy down. Malfoy growled.
"What do you want, Zabini?"
They were standing opposite each other now, staring into each other's eyes, both determined to get their way.
"What happened last time?"
"I don't know what you're talking about." Malfoy's face remained hard, emotionless.
"Yes, you do."
Malfoy raised an eyebrow, challenging Blaise.
"Last time we were about to have sex, Malfoy."
Malfoy glanced around quickly, before growling "Don't be so crude, Zabini."
Now it was Blaise's turn to raise an eyebrow, but Malfoy merely remained silent.
"Well?"
"Maybe I just wasn't impressed by your icy hands?"
Blaise snorted. That was unlikely.
"Tell me the truth Malfoy."
"The truth? You couldn't handle the truth."
And with that, the blond Slytherin shrugged himself free of Blaise's grasp an continued down the corridor, taking the first turn and leaving Blaise standing alone, staring after him, lost in thought.
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Bloody Zabini. It wasn't typical for Slytherins to be so upfront in their quest to unravel each other's secrets, but Draco supposed extreme boredom could bring out such behaviour in even the most mature Snakes.
Zabini was looking for a confrontation, for drama, for some action. And he would probably only stop pestering him once he got it.
After the scene in the corridor, Zabini had taken it upon himself to constantly follow him. Everywhere. It was more than mildly annoying. And every time he met the other boy's eyes, a questioning look was immediately send his way – which was why he was now avoiding looking at the boy and simply ignoring him as well as possible. He wouldn't last much longer though – he needed his privacy and the only way to get it was to hole himself up in his room. However, he had to leave for dinner, and the second he left the room Zabini was back on his side, shooting him annoying questioning glances.
Still, he had his room, and that would have to be enough to get through the rest of the holidays.
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Zabini was smirking. Smirking at him. This did not bode well for Draco, and he had to fight the urge to leave the Great Hall minutes upon entering it for breakfast.
There were only a few students and teachers, so the tables had been reduced to just one, shared by everyone. Thankfully Potter and his Gryffindorks had been shipped of to the Weasleys' for the holidays. At least he didn't have to put up with them and their eating habits – especially Weasleys'.
He sat down at the table, Zabini at his side – of course – as far away from the other students and teachers as possible.
Hooting and fluttering alerted him to the arrival of the owls and as a small brown school owl apparently made him his target, Draco's feeling of discomfort increased severely. A small folded note landed upon his still empty plate and reluctantly he opened it.
Mr. Malfoy,
Please stay behind after breakfast, as there are things to be discussed.
~ Headmaster Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore
This could not be good.
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"So, where shall I put my bed?"
Blaise was grinning on the inside. His sob story about how cold the dungeons were and how Malfoy's room was much warmer and how well Malfoy and he got along had actually convinced the foolish headmaster to let him sleep on a spare bed in Malfoy's Head Boy room for the rest of their holidays.
Malfoy had not said a word during Dumbledore's explanation, and he hadn't said anything afterwards either. Blaise could feel how the Slytherin was boiling on the inside. He just had to push him a little bit further, and his emotions would come pouring out. Naturally it would be a tad risky – he'd have to make sure there were no objects the blond could throw at him – but with a bit of skill he could turn that overwhelming anger into something which would give him answers. He had an idea – it was somewhat ludicrous, but then these things usually were – about what had caused Malfoy to react like he had.
"Malfoy?"
The blond had sat himself down on his bed and was now apparently immersed in a Potions book. Upon Blaise's address, Malfoy looked at Blaise for the first time after Dumbledore had ordered him to take Blaise in. The look caused Blaise to recoil a little. Malfoy was not happy. Not happy at all. It was Blaise's chance.
Leaving his bed levitating in front of the door, Blaise plopped himself down next to Malfoy on the bed.
"I could just sleep here with you." That, combined with a suggestive grin, did it.
He could feel Malfoy's magic flare up. The Dragon had awoken. Now he just had to tame it.
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Zabini. Was. Going. To. Die.
"Get. Off. My. Bed. Zabini."
The other boy just smirked and leaned towards him, apparently trying to bite his neck or some other foolish thing.
Damn his pureblood upbringing - there was only one way Zabini was going to touch him and that was through contact with his fist.
There was a satisfying crack when Draco's fist met Zabini's face, however, the crack made Draco realise that Zabini was far more capable at muggle combat than he.
Before he knew it, he was being pressed down onto the bed by Zabini – his wrists were being held by his hands, Zabini's bodyweight was pressing him down and Zabini's blood was trickling out of his nose and dripping onto Draco's fine hair.
Draco's alarms went up. This was not good.
Zabini started biting and gnawing at his neck – the only thing Draco could do was turn his head away, which sadly only gave Zabini more space. He could feel Zabini's breath in his ear and the words he whispered into it made him recoil and shiver.
"I could take you right now… and there would be nothing you could do to stop me."
Draco had closed his eyes, head still turned as far away from Zabini as possible. Panic rose in him – he had to get out of this, he just had to. But he couldn't, Zabini was right; the other boy was much stronger than him and definitely in a better position.
Shit.
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Malfoy was close to cracking, he could see it. Now was the question about how best to proceed. He could continue with his "affection" or confront the boy… continuing would only prolong his torture, and he didn't really want that. So he would confront him… as long as he remained in the dominant position, it should work. It had to work; otherwise he would be more screwed than ever before – and not in the nice way.
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Draco was struggling to breathe. Panic had completely engulfed him and he was struggling with all his might, but the other boy was simply too strong for him. He had to get out. He had to. He didn't want… not again. Not again. Tears were creeping into his eyes, but he didn't care. In any other situation he would have been mortified. Malfoys didn't cry. Especially not in front of others. But now it was like his life was about to be ended anyway, so what did it matter? What did it matter if he showed weakness to someone who was about to strip him of all the dignity he had struggled to rebuild? What was the point of struggling anyhow? There was no way out.
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Was that? Were those? Tears? Draco Malfoy, the most collected guy in the whole of Hogwarts – except maybe Professor Snape – crying? In front of him? Blaise knew that he was dangerously close to going too far. Maybe he had already crossed the line. Hell, he had definitely crossed the line. But it was too late to go back now – he might as well continue with his plan. At least then he would know Malfoy's biggest secret to blackmail him with to stop him telling on him.
So he let go of Malfoy's wrists, and leaned upon his elbow, so that he was half on top of Malfoy, keeping him in place – it wouldn't do to have him flee – and half on the bed, in a wholly less threatening position.
It was time to interrogate Malfoy.
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He dimly registered Zabini shifting his weight. Was it over already? It couldn't be. His trousers were still on. Had he blacked out? Maybe. But surely he would hurt. Or maybe Zabini took care of that so that there would be no evidence. Why wasn't he leaving?
"You've been in this position before, haven't you?
Draco took a minute to understand Zabini's words. What cruel game was he playing at? Gathering new hope, Draco tried to pull away from under the other Slytherin. Zabini was too quick though and held tightly onto him so that they were now in a spooning position.
"I don't want to harm you, Draco." Zabini whispered.
What? Draco? So Zabini hadn't? Or was he just trying to manipulate him?
"Who did this to you?"
Draco squeezed his eyes closed. He didn't want to think about it, didn't want to talk about it. What did Zabini care anyway? He decided to ask.
"I don't know why, to tell you the truth… but I do care, somehow."
So here he was, lying on his bed, being spooned by Zabini, with blood in his hair and tear streaks on his face, his eyes puffy and only slowly gaining back control of his thoughts and his breathing.
He was beginning to imagine what Potter must feel like when he got into one of his little adventures.
"You can tell me, Draco."
Not knowing how else he could respond, mind and feelings being completely strained, he told Zabini everything.