A.N. I don't know why I wrote this. Just kinda wanted to. So, here you go. Draco's point of view.
My father hit me again. Shaking with rage, I turn to him. His eyes practically beg for me to hit him, so he can punch me again.
"If you ever touch me again, I'll tell. I'll tell it all," I say through my teeth.
"Boy, you watch what you say," Lucius talks down to me as I'm half laying, half sitting on the ground.
"Or what? You'll hurt me? You've done that already," I spit at him. We are both so angry, it radiates off of us in waves and fills the room with animosity. It bounces off the walls and comes back to me ten-fold.
"I can do much worse. Oh yes, I can," he mutters and his hands move under his robes. I can hear a zipper unzipping.
"You bastard," is all I can muster while trying to stand up and run from the room. When I make it halfway up, he kicks me on the side of my head. I tumble to the ground. I can hazily feel the sticky bllod puddling in my ear.
"Is that why you beat me? So my hair will be red with blood, and you can pretend I'm Weasley when you're fucking me?" I ask not caring how angry he'll become. Amazingly, he stops in surprise at this. "You wouldn't believe the stories I hear, Father, about how you wanted him. And he rejected you. How many nights do you stay awake thinking of him?"
"Liars," he hisses. He looks distracted and unable to deal with this shock. My father never was the smartest guy.
"It's okay, Father," I say spitting the last word and again trying to get up. "You see, I have a crush on a Weasley too." He seems to have been brought back to reality by this.
"That's right, I do. I like Ron. A lot. And every time I see him I consider kissing, instead of insulting him. I wonder how his thick hair would feel in my hands. I wonder what hsi tongue tastes like." I'm standing up all the way now, and slowly backing towards the door.
"Sometimes, when I'm wanking, I think about his strong lips on my dick. And when I come, I yell his name. And all I want to do is make him moan mine," I finish and run like hell. He chases after me. I run through the dark, cold corridor of my mansion. I'm escaping not only from him, but also from my affection for Ron actually voiced. Even as I throw myself in my room and grab my wand to perform a quick unbreakable lock charm on my door, I think of Ron smiling and feel knees go weak. I hear Lucius on the other side of the door, cursing and trying to break my charm.
You've taught me too well Lucius, I think. I haven't called him Father without meaning to piss him off and hopefully causing him some shame since my Christmas break in my first year at Hogwarts, because that's when he started treating me like a fucktoy. He found my secret picture I had of Ron that I took with my wand at the first quidditch match of the year. He looked beautiful, his cheeks a light pink from the cold, his red hair being whipped around by the wind. He had small smile on his face and it makes me sigh thinking of it even know, before my fifth year.
Anyway, he found it and tore it to pieces. he looked terrified and furious at the same time. I can still remember clearly, no matter how hard I try to forget, how I had felt when He thrusted himself in and out of me that night, only minutes after shredding my picture, what it would have been like if Ron had been my first. But whenever I conjured up his face, Lucius would slam back into me, drawing me to reality. Finally, it had been over and he left me to cry and bleed on my bed.
I had imagined Ron there with me, comforting me. He seemed so real that the next morning, after curling up with him and falling asleep, I was surprised that he wasn't there. Of course he's not stupid. Never mind how the hell would he get here, but Ron having warmth in his eyes while looking at me? Yeah right.
But Ron had been an important component over the years in getting to sleep at night with out blubbering like a baby. Whather wanking with him on mind, thinking of him, or imaginign him holdng me, it didn't matter.
I also learned to hide my pictures better. I have quite a few of them, and I don't think Ron knows about them. I take them most discreetly at every chance I can. My favorite is one of him after the second task in the TriWizard Tournament. He was smiling and laughing right after Harry got 45 points for the task. his hair was wet, and with it slicked away from her face, it's easy to see his handsome features. He was wearing a white tank top and his nipples pressing against the cotton material never fails to get me aroused. I wonder what they would feel like wet, between my lips, in my mouth.
I go to my bed and pick up my mattress. there is a slit cut in the corner of my box springs. I reach down and pull out a handful of pictures. My favorite is on top of the pile, of course, and I glance at it before looking through the other pictures. They are all just as beaytiful as my first one. In some, he looks serious, in some absolutely ecstatic. I chuckle at the one of him during the Yule Ball last year. He looks like he'd rather be anywhere else, and I know it's because of Padma Patil. She looks the same way because of him. I silently pray tp god for the millionth time to help her realize how lucky she is to spend a night with such an incredible person. I think that on anyone else, the robes he wore would have been funny. I think he made them look extraordinary.
I make my way through the rest of them, including the picture from The Daily Prophet before 3rd year. I finally come to the picture that always makes me wanna cry. It's him, looking directly at me and looking quite annoyed. The anger flashes in his eyes, and I know that is the only strong feeling I will ever invoke from him. Hatred.
I look back to my favorite one. As I watch, water drips from his hair and his lips open a bit to show his wide teethy grin. They close again in a small smile. As always, I wish the picture would extend past his stomach. I wonder if he hs an erection. I know he's looking at Harry, and I think Ron has a crush on Harry. I think they may even be together. That's so unfair. Potter could have anyone he wants. I know if I weren't so hung up on Ron, even I would be at risk to become a giggling pile of putty for him to do with as he pleases. In some ways, i'm glad that Ron caught my heart, not near enough people appreciate him. Now if only he didn't think I hated him. If only he didn't hate me.
All I really want to do is make him smile. Make him laugh. Make him moan. Make him whimper. Make him come. Make him cry out my name in ecstasy. Make him love me.
My father hit me again. Shaking with rage, I turn to him. His eyes practically beg for me to hit him, so he can punch me again.
"If you ever touch me again, I'll tell. I'll tell it all," I say through my teeth.
"Boy, you watch what you say," Lucius talks down to me as I'm half laying, half sitting on the ground.
"Or what? You'll hurt me? You've done that already," I spit at him. We are both so angry, it radiates off of us in waves and fills the room with animosity. It bounces off the walls and comes back to me ten-fold.
"I can do much worse. Oh yes, I can," he mutters and his hands move under his robes. I can hear a zipper unzipping.
"You bastard," is all I can muster while trying to stand up and run from the room. When I make it halfway up, he kicks me on the side of my head. I tumble to the ground. I can hazily feel the sticky bllod puddling in my ear.
"Is that why you beat me? So my hair will be red with blood, and you can pretend I'm Weasley when you're fucking me?" I ask not caring how angry he'll become. Amazingly, he stops in surprise at this. "You wouldn't believe the stories I hear, Father, about how you wanted him. And he rejected you. How many nights do you stay awake thinking of him?"
"Liars," he hisses. He looks distracted and unable to deal with this shock. My father never was the smartest guy.
"It's okay, Father," I say spitting the last word and again trying to get up. "You see, I have a crush on a Weasley too." He seems to have been brought back to reality by this.
"That's right, I do. I like Ron. A lot. And every time I see him I consider kissing, instead of insulting him. I wonder how his thick hair would feel in my hands. I wonder what hsi tongue tastes like." I'm standing up all the way now, and slowly backing towards the door.
"Sometimes, when I'm wanking, I think about his strong lips on my dick. And when I come, I yell his name. And all I want to do is make him moan mine," I finish and run like hell. He chases after me. I run through the dark, cold corridor of my mansion. I'm escaping not only from him, but also from my affection for Ron actually voiced. Even as I throw myself in my room and grab my wand to perform a quick unbreakable lock charm on my door, I think of Ron smiling and feel knees go weak. I hear Lucius on the other side of the door, cursing and trying to break my charm.
You've taught me too well Lucius, I think. I haven't called him Father without meaning to piss him off and hopefully causing him some shame since my Christmas break in my first year at Hogwarts, because that's when he started treating me like a fucktoy. He found my secret picture I had of Ron that I took with my wand at the first quidditch match of the year. He looked beautiful, his cheeks a light pink from the cold, his red hair being whipped around by the wind. He had small smile on his face and it makes me sigh thinking of it even know, before my fifth year.
Anyway, he found it and tore it to pieces. he looked terrified and furious at the same time. I can still remember clearly, no matter how hard I try to forget, how I had felt when He thrusted himself in and out of me that night, only minutes after shredding my picture, what it would have been like if Ron had been my first. But whenever I conjured up his face, Lucius would slam back into me, drawing me to reality. Finally, it had been over and he left me to cry and bleed on my bed.
I had imagined Ron there with me, comforting me. He seemed so real that the next morning, after curling up with him and falling asleep, I was surprised that he wasn't there. Of course he's not stupid. Never mind how the hell would he get here, but Ron having warmth in his eyes while looking at me? Yeah right.
But Ron had been an important component over the years in getting to sleep at night with out blubbering like a baby. Whather wanking with him on mind, thinking of him, or imaginign him holdng me, it didn't matter.
I also learned to hide my pictures better. I have quite a few of them, and I don't think Ron knows about them. I take them most discreetly at every chance I can. My favorite is one of him after the second task in the TriWizard Tournament. He was smiling and laughing right after Harry got 45 points for the task. his hair was wet, and with it slicked away from her face, it's easy to see his handsome features. He was wearing a white tank top and his nipples pressing against the cotton material never fails to get me aroused. I wonder what they would feel like wet, between my lips, in my mouth.
I go to my bed and pick up my mattress. there is a slit cut in the corner of my box springs. I reach down and pull out a handful of pictures. My favorite is on top of the pile, of course, and I glance at it before looking through the other pictures. They are all just as beaytiful as my first one. In some, he looks serious, in some absolutely ecstatic. I chuckle at the one of him during the Yule Ball last year. He looks like he'd rather be anywhere else, and I know it's because of Padma Patil. She looks the same way because of him. I silently pray tp god for the millionth time to help her realize how lucky she is to spend a night with such an incredible person. I think that on anyone else, the robes he wore would have been funny. I think he made them look extraordinary.
I make my way through the rest of them, including the picture from The Daily Prophet before 3rd year. I finally come to the picture that always makes me wanna cry. It's him, looking directly at me and looking quite annoyed. The anger flashes in his eyes, and I know that is the only strong feeling I will ever invoke from him. Hatred.
I look back to my favorite one. As I watch, water drips from his hair and his lips open a bit to show his wide teethy grin. They close again in a small smile. As always, I wish the picture would extend past his stomach. I wonder if he hs an erection. I know he's looking at Harry, and I think Ron has a crush on Harry. I think they may even be together. That's so unfair. Potter could have anyone he wants. I know if I weren't so hung up on Ron, even I would be at risk to become a giggling pile of putty for him to do with as he pleases. In some ways, i'm glad that Ron caught my heart, not near enough people appreciate him. Now if only he didn't think I hated him. If only he didn't hate me.
All I really want to do is make him smile. Make him laugh. Make him moan. Make him whimper. Make him come. Make him cry out my name in ecstasy. Make him love me.