"Sometimes is never quite enough.
If you're flawless,
Then you'll win my love."
The words being sung struck me straight through the heart. I knew what that was like. Probably better than anyone else at Hogwarts…
"Don't forget to win first place.
Don't forget to keep that smile on your face.
"Be a good boy.
Try a little harder.
You've got to measure up;
Make me prouder."
Well, maybe not better than the owner of that voice… the guy who was singing the song. He sang tenor. Sounded like maybe it should have been a woman singing. I swallowed thickly and took a seat at the bar. To get a better look at the stage. At the singer. I could barely make out that he held a guitar. I was surprised to even have recognized the bloody instrument.
"How long before you screw it up?
And how many times do I have to tell you
To hurry up?
"With everything I do for you,
The least you could do is keep quiet."
I felt my throat tighten. Wasn't that just Merlin's honest truth? I looked around and bit back a strangled laugh. Who would have thought? Draco Mal-fucking-foy in a bar in Muggle London. Pathetic. I held back a sob, trying not to think about my family. My uncaring and oblivious mother. My father. My sick, deluded father. The song was making it bloody difficult to think about anything else, god dammit! I closed my eyes.
"Be a good girl.
You gotta try a little harder.
That simply was not good enough
To make us proud.
"I'll live through you.
I'll make you what I never was.
If you're the best,
Then, maybe so am I…
Compared to him…
Compared to her…?
"I'm doin this for your own damn good!
You'll make up for what I blew-
What's the problem?
Why are you crying?"
I held back another sob. Too close. That was way too close to home. I rested my hand over my heart and allowed a single tear to escape. I wiped it away and moved closer to the stage. Muggle or not, I wished to speak to him and see if he'd allow me to talk with him about this song.
Merlin forbid, even share. My feelings, my torment, commiserate. When I looked up once more, I realized I'd gotten close. Close enough to see. Close enough to be seen. Another tear escaped before I could control it. Safe to say, I was more than a little shocked.
"Be a good boy.
Push a little farther now.
That wasn't fast enough
To make us happy.
"We'll love you…
Just the way you are…
If you're perfect."
Emerald eyes held my gray ones captive. I subconsciously wiped the tear away and proceeded to flee. Please, oh please, think you were hallucinating, Potter. Please!
I hid in the loo.
As a Malfoy, it wasn't like me to hide. Normally, I reveled in confrontation. Thrived, even… but not tonight. Oh, gods, not tonight. It was all too much. How could that bloody Gryffindor know how I feel? How could he know? The praised Golden Child. The fucking Savior. It's not that I hated him. I just hated what his existence brought about in my home when I was growing up.
How could he possibly understand torture, verbal, physical, and otherwise, at the hands of your own family? Your blood? The people who were supposed to be the ones to love and care for you unconditionally?
"Crucio!" I heard my fathers voice in my head. He'd say the word with venom but he'd say it low. Soft. As though he were enjoying it. I'm sure he did. Every time that fucking mud blood surpassed me scholastically, I would receive punishment. Every time I lost a Quidditch match to that damned half-blooded Gryffindor and his blood traitor pal, I would receive punishment. No matter how well I performed, physically in game or scholastically, it was never ever good enough. "Crucio!" I whimpered and sniffled when someone came into the lavatory.
A throat cleared. "Anyone in here?" He knew damn well I was in here! Shit! "Malfoy?" he said softly. I reached forward to lock the stall, just as he pushed it open. I brandished my wand immediately, tears coursing down my face. I didn't fucking care anymore! He looked at me sadly and my face crumpled more so.
"Don't fucking look at me like that!" My voice slurring with my crying. "I'm a Malfoy! I'm a Malfoy! I'm… I'm…" I broke down and crumpled to the floor, ashamed and utterly alone.
At least, that's what I believed until an arm snaked beneath mine and helped me to stand. "I'm only looking at you the way I've always looked at you." Potter said softly and let me lean on him. Never thought I'd see the day I'd be grateful to have him around. Hum.
When I'd composed myself several minutes later, I splashed cold water on my face and straightened myself out. "Thank you, Potter." I said gruffly and started to walk away. His hand on my arm caused me to sigh. "Please, let me go." I said politely.
"Are you okay?" he said and forced me to face him.
I did my best to keep my face blank. "I'm perfectly fine, Potter. Thank you." I replied, starting to sound icy.
The breath whooshed out of me as he slammed me up against the tiled wall and put both hands on either side of my head, effectively trapping me. "We are no longer in school. We are no longer at war. Stop pretending you didn't just break down. And for God's sake, call me Harry. We're both adults now."
"We're supposed to hate each other, in case you've forgotten." I reminded him once I'd gotten my breath back.
Glaring at me, he retorted, "I never hated you, only the things you believed in."
I stared, mouth dropped open in surprise. I didn't quite know what to say, but what I did say, I wasn't prepared for. "They were never my beliefs! It was follow or be tortured." I snapped. I slapped my hand over my mouth rather effeminately.
Harry seemed just as taken aback. "Tortured?" he breathed. I trembled, afraid he'd ask me to elaborate; afraid I'd tell him.
"I- I need to- I need air," I whispered, my breathing coming in short gasps. He grabbed my arm and led me quickly outside. I gulped air as though it were going out of style. He pushed at me to lean over and told me to take deep breaths. Slowly.
He seemed sure of himself and was apparently having no problem stroking soothing circles on my back in public, as though I were his bloody lover. After I'd gained my breath and composure once more, I leaned against the wall and closed my eyes.
"Thank you… Harry." I said after a moment. I cracked an eye open and saw that he was smiling. I closed my eyes again and avoided smiling myself.
"You're welcome, Draco." He said gently and leaned on the wall next to me. "So, what have you been doing for the past couple of years?" he asked awkwardly.
"Oh, this and that. Putting my family's assets to better use than the destruction of all non-purebloods. I donate a portion of my personal funds to St. Mungo's every year. Let's see, what else? I actually work at Gringott's as an assistant bookkeeper. I see that Weasley bloke every now and again. The curse breaker." All of this came out as an amused rant. It never ceased to surprise me, the things I couldn't shut up about… and only in front of Harry has this ever happened. What. The. Hell?
I turned to him. "Well," he seemed at a loss for something to say.
"What about you? What, other than sing, did the mighty Golden Boy do after defeating the not-so-mighty Dark Lord?" I felt better, having gotten myself back on even ground. I wasn't the uncomfortable one anymore and that's just the way I liked it.
"I fled the very public eye of the wizarding world and stick mainly to the muggle world." He said at length, running a tired-looking hand through his ever-messy black hair. It was longer than I'd last remembered it… and he was taller than I remembered him. "I never liked the spotlight and it only got worse as the war ended. No one was afraid to congratulate me for a job almost anyone could have done. I didn't really have the bollocks for it, I just got thrown in and there we were. It was either him or me. I chose me." I frowned. I thought he loved the spotlight. "I decided I'd had absolutely enough and fled. So, now I go between both worlds and sing under a false name. It's fun and it pays well, not that I really need the money."
"The Potter's were rather wealthy purebloods, as I recall." I said, without being rude or scathing. Yay me. He tugged my sleeve and I followed him down the sidewalk.
"Yeah, but I was raised by my Aunt and Uncle. Well, maybe raised is far too polite. I lived with them. They hated me and everything they believed I represented. They'd say terrible things to me and my fat porker of a cousin, Dudley, would beat me into the pavement. Occasionally, if he couldn't get his lazy arse up, he'd lie to my Aunt or Uncle, and Uncle Vernon would come and beat me or scream at me until I thought he'd have a stroke. His face would turn the most disturbing shade of puce." He murmured thoughtfully.
I gawked at him. I was so sure he'd been raised with all the love deserving of a child savior. But beaten?
He continued and sent a sardonic smile my way. "I didn't really have my own room for the first ten or so years of my life. I slept in a cupboard under the stairs. The year after I'd started Hogwarts, I received a room of my own… but it was so packed full of Dudley's things that I hardly had any room." He sighed and pulled a leaf off of a tree we passed. "Things are better now. I live on my own in a huge flat that I decorated myself. Nothing matches at all." He laughed. "I'll certainly never be hired as an interior designer. But everything's soothing and comfortable. Everything's good. No one to talk down at me or tell me that they hate the very breath in my body day and night. The solitude is nice." He paused and glanced at me. "But it gets lonely."
"I know," I said without really thinking about it. I frowned trying to decide how to word this. "How can you talk about your past so easily?" I settled on.
He stopped and turned to face me. "I talked to my friends about it once. It was hard at first and there was a lot of crying… but they helped me through it. Helped me to stop reliving it. Helped me move on."
After a moment, I realized I had a couple of tears trailing down my face again. I hadn't even known until Harry wiped them away.
"Are you… are you crying for me?" he asked, sounding pained. I swallowed and nodded. After another moment, I blurted out that I hated my father. Pretty soon I was pouring my heart and soul out to my once enemy. The tears came but my voice didn't waver and didn't pause. Harry sat in stunned silence and I smiled tearfully up at him
"We've both had fucking awful childhoods, haven't we?" I said and he laughed while wiping away his own tears.
Not believing my own actions, I reached up and cupped his face with my right hand. He froze at first, then relaxed and cupped his hand to mine and closed his eyes. When he opened them again, it was like nothing I'd ever seen before. Silvery emerald eyes stared down at me. His hair was blue-black in the moonlight
When he kissed me, I didn't know what to do. Should I slap him? No. Bad idea. I decided to kiss him back. I trembled when he pulled me closer to him. My arms slipped around his neck of their own volition and I moaned when his tongue slid across my bottom lip, seeking entry. I opened my mouth and drove my tongue into his, fighting for dominance.
I wasn't winning. That was okay. He pushed me up against a wall for the second time that night and began kissing his way down my throat, grumbling when my pressed white shirt got in his way. I laughed breathlessly and gasped when he Apparated us both inside of his flat.
"Draco," he whispered. "Draco."
"Don't you dare stop." I snapped and bit the inside of my cheek to keep from returning his grin. He unbuttoned my shirt and growled when he found another waiting for his fingers.
"Why do you wear so many clothes?" he asked and whimpered when I reached out to stroke him through his trousers.
"It's called an undershirt, you heathen. You're supposed to wear them under button-up shirts." I said and swallowed my next snide remark when he pulled his shirt off in one fluid motion. Merlin, that man was built! He had toned muscles and a decent tan. Not dark, just not pasty white.
I didn't waste any time removing my undershirt and groaned in appreciation as he pulled me roughly against him, our skin rubbing seductively together. I kissed at his neck and bit gently. He gasped. I bit harder and he whimpered, grounding our erections together. He liked pain. Go figure.
I unfastened both of our trousers and we both shed the rest of our clothing. "Bedroom." I demanded. My first time with the famous Harry Potter better be in a goddamned bed.
He grinned mischievously and threw me over his shoulder. I yelped in surprise and blinked for a moment before I registered what he had done. I reached down and slapped his bare ass hard in retaliation. He moaned. "Unless you want me to drop you, I suggest saving it for a little later." He said and I grinned, sufficiently mollified for the time being.
He was surprisingly gentle when he laid me down on his bed. I smiled while looking around. It wasn't that uncoordinated. It was homey with brown wood and green cloths. His bed had silk and Egyptian cotton sheets and comforter. Very soft and very comfortable. I groaned as I felt the silk slither beneath me softly. I shimmied on it until I was comfortable, reveling in the niceness of it.
"You like it, I take it?" he said.
"Very much." I moaned and trailed the corner of a silk blanket over my body, my penis throbbing in response. I watched Harry as I did that and began stroking myself slowly; watching him watching me.
I smiled as he lowered himself to his knees and pulled my ankles until my legs hung over the side of the bed. I cried out when he tongued his way up to my aching member. He removed my hand and began stroking me himself. I almost came when he enveloped me in the velvety warmth of his mouth. It was so hot and slick. He swirled his tongue and bobbed his head, suckling strongly. After a few minutes of this torture, I came into his mouth, thrusting helplessly as he held my hips down.
"Sweet Merlin, that was… that was… amazing!" I exclaimed and pulled him up, kissing him deeply. He reached down and started stroking me again. It didn't take long for his ministrations to harden me again.
"I want you to coat me with your saliva." He whispered and my mouth trembled open, knowing why. I watched as he laid back into his sea of pillows. I crawled over to him and wrapped my lips around him. His breath hissed out between his teeth and I smiled, licking him and wetting him thoroughly. I laughed in pleasure as he knocked me onto my back, growling again. He kissed me until I was breathless and needy.
I whimpered and when he raised my knees to my chest, I didn't object. I needed this. He held his right fore- and middle fingers out to me. I sucked on them and trailed my tongue over the webbing. I watched his Adam's apple bob quickly once and then my eyes shut of their own accord when he slowly slid one and then two fingers inside my tight entrance.
After a few minutes of this I was thrashing against him, wanting so much more. I impatiently wiped a lock of blonde hair off of my face and my eyes went opaque as he slid his length inside me inch by delicious inch. As the pain subsided, the pleasure began ten-fold. He thrust slowly at first before building up to a frenzied pace. Propping himself up on one elbow, he reached down between us and stroked me. I felt myself close when he started moaning louder and louder. I leaned up and bit the flesh between his neck and shoulder. Hard. He shouted and thrust violently inside me. I put more pressure, and tasted a little blood.
Harry came, just as violently as he was thrusting, and I followed, feeling him spill inside me being too much. He collapsed, not even mindful of the sticky mess between us. "So… you're staying the night, right?" he asked and I playfully hit his shoulder.
"Of course, you're making me breakfast." I declared and laughed when a towel hit me in the face. "What? You've forgotten how to clean yourself, Harry, dear?" I smirked and rose, naked as the day I was born and padded around his flat, finally finding his lavatory and making use of his facilities.
The next morning found me entangled more intimately than I'd ever been with anyone before. I just grinned and went back to sleep.
Best. Therapy. Ever.
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So… what didja think? Review? Yes? No? Maybe?
Love and Peace,
Doves and Geese,
Blood