Sure Beats Screwing Fan Girls
Summary: Pointless, one-shot slash AU fic written for Dorkis' birthday. Harry sings punkrock, Malfoy snorts meth.
Author: Nihilism. (I was beaten into submission.)
Rating: You don't really want to read this. R if you must know, though, for bad language and...just plain bad.
He was shaking, he was sweating. He was spun, wired, strung out. But here, that wasn't so out of place. That's why
he came to these places anyway, wasn't it? It sure as hell wasn't for the music - punk rock. They call that music?
What a fucking joke. Well, maybe there was one more reason...
Malfoy took a long drag off of his cigarette, his third one since his last rail 15 minutes ago, and cast his cool, grey
eyes out over the thrashing throng. As far as he could tell, each and every one of them were as high as he was - okay,
except that older-looking guy with the mustache and mohawk stumbling around by the wall. Definately drunk, or maybe just
helplessly retarded. Who puts a mustache with a mohawk anyway? Malfoy sneered and tossed the butt of his smoke to the side,
not caring who it hit - since not caring seemed to be the order of the night - and made his way closer to the stage.
Three chords played repeatedly on distorted guitar, backed by talentless drum beats and bass lines played completely on
the 'e' string. All topped by some guy screaming inane indecipherable lyrics into a microphone. His eyes scanned over the
band, sneer still plastered in place, and stop on the screamer in question. Dark blueish hair sticking out in messy spikes
about 6 inches long...pants torn and saftey-pinned back together in appropriate places...worn-out t-shirt displaying some
unknown band logo...and the obligatory pair of black combat boots. Nothing special to look at really, until the punk paused
in his government-bashing ballad and cast his eyes directly at the pale, wired blonde.
Malfoy felt his breath catch in his throat as those eyes met his. Peircing green eyes that held an almost laughing look, like
the owner knew a secret that he'd never tell. Malfoy's gaze travelled down the face to the lips almost helplessly and the
lips curved into a sort of smirking-sneer hybrid before the eyes turned away and the lips went back to their screaming. Malfoy
took a breath and obtained a secretive smirk of his own, taking another long look at the boy on stage before turning and
heading back to the filthy bathroom of the club to chop up another line and formulate a plan.
--------------
Harry leaned back against the cool metal of the van that now housed all the band's equiptment and let himself take a deep
breath. A smile crept onto his features unhindered as he let the exhilaration of the after-show take effect. It had been
a good turnout, and the crowd was excited enough to make it worthwhile - even though most of the self-proclaimed 'punks'
wouldn't know revolution if it shoved it's hard cock up their asses.
Hmm...speaking of hard cock - Harry's mind clicked back to the end of the set, the break-down of their Roots Radicals cover,
a pair of steely silver eyes and shocking white-blonde hair. After a few moments of reverie he pushed himself off of the
van and skittered into the dirty alleyway behind the club to take a piss.
A sort of scuffling alerted him to another presence in the alleyway as he zipped his pants back up and he turned to look over
the expanse. His eyes didn't catch any movement and he suspected rats...though it sounded a bit more like a snake. He
was about to let his curiosity drop and see what kind of groupies he could find to play with when the familiar metallic
click of a lighter sounded from nearby and a flame appeared.
It was him...the blonde one. Leaning casually against the wall, he held the flame to the end of some sort of thin, metal
pipe (Harry could've sworn it was a tire-gauge) and sucked on the other end. After a moment he brought his head back and
exhaled a cloud of rancid-smelling meth smoke into the air then glanced nonchalantly at Harry, who was caught mid-stare.
"Er...oi," Harry stammered, remembering himself suddenly. "Enjoy the show?"
Malfoy's eyes swept over the other boy's form, almost leering, before responding. "It wasn't bad to watch," he answered
cryptically before meeting those green eyes again. His voice sent an unexpected shiver down Harry's spine, smooth and
suggestive with just a touch of roughness from years of drug use.
"Ah...yeah," Harry replied after a moment when he realized he was staring again. Something about the blonde boy was
definately off, to be able to intimidate him like this. He forced himself to regain composure and took a few steps
closer to him, his boots thudding on the pavement. "I'm Harry, by the way. People 'round here call me Scar though." He
offered a hand.
Gazing coolly at his hand for a moment, Malfoy looked back up to Harry and raised an eyebrow, a faint hint of a smirk
playing over his lips. "Scar?," he queried, his tone amused. "Where'd you get that endearment?"
Harry retreated his hand to move a spike that had fallen during performance, brushing the stiff hair back from his
forehead to reveal a lightning bolt shaped scar. "This, I imagine," he offered, smiling with half his mouth.
"Ah," Malfoy breathed, sounding none-too-impressed. "I'm sure there's a fascinating story behind that - " Harry opened
his mouth as if to explain but he was interrupted before he could begin. "Draco Malfoy."
The slim, pale boy held out a hand now and Harry placed his in it. "Nice to meet - " he was interrupted again when the
hand he was holding pulled him roughly towards Malfoy. He gasped in surprise but that, too, was cut short when the other
boy's lips claimed his own roughly.
Malfoy released his hand as he turned and pressed Harry into the brick wall behind them, pressing himself harshly
against the boy as his tongue forced itself into Harry's mouth. Harry tensed for a second then wrapped a hand around the
back of Malfoy's head, pulling him impossibly closer. Someone groaned, though neither was sure who it was, and the kiss
was broken momentarily. Green eyes met grey for a moment, lust consuming all four irises as they stared each other
down before Malfoy's lips formed into that smirk.
"Well, Harry, I certainly hope you perform better in bed than on stage," he told him snarkily before grasping the other
boy's hip and pulling himself back for another bruising kiss. It was a battle of dominance with someone he didn't know, and
Harry had obviously lost...but he couldn't complain, and wouldn't have anyway. Sure beats screwing fan girls.
[A/N to the Dork: You didn't honestly think you could badger me into writing slash SEKS, did you? Happy Birthday. :)]
Summary: Pointless, one-shot slash AU fic written for Dorkis' birthday. Harry sings punkrock, Malfoy snorts meth.
Author: Nihilism. (I was beaten into submission.)
Rating: You don't really want to read this. R if you must know, though, for bad language and...just plain bad.
He was shaking, he was sweating. He was spun, wired, strung out. But here, that wasn't so out of place. That's why
he came to these places anyway, wasn't it? It sure as hell wasn't for the music - punk rock. They call that music?
What a fucking joke. Well, maybe there was one more reason...
Malfoy took a long drag off of his cigarette, his third one since his last rail 15 minutes ago, and cast his cool, grey
eyes out over the thrashing throng. As far as he could tell, each and every one of them were as high as he was - okay,
except that older-looking guy with the mustache and mohawk stumbling around by the wall. Definately drunk, or maybe just
helplessly retarded. Who puts a mustache with a mohawk anyway? Malfoy sneered and tossed the butt of his smoke to the side,
not caring who it hit - since not caring seemed to be the order of the night - and made his way closer to the stage.
Three chords played repeatedly on distorted guitar, backed by talentless drum beats and bass lines played completely on
the 'e' string. All topped by some guy screaming inane indecipherable lyrics into a microphone. His eyes scanned over the
band, sneer still plastered in place, and stop on the screamer in question. Dark blueish hair sticking out in messy spikes
about 6 inches long...pants torn and saftey-pinned back together in appropriate places...worn-out t-shirt displaying some
unknown band logo...and the obligatory pair of black combat boots. Nothing special to look at really, until the punk paused
in his government-bashing ballad and cast his eyes directly at the pale, wired blonde.
Malfoy felt his breath catch in his throat as those eyes met his. Peircing green eyes that held an almost laughing look, like
the owner knew a secret that he'd never tell. Malfoy's gaze travelled down the face to the lips almost helplessly and the
lips curved into a sort of smirking-sneer hybrid before the eyes turned away and the lips went back to their screaming. Malfoy
took a breath and obtained a secretive smirk of his own, taking another long look at the boy on stage before turning and
heading back to the filthy bathroom of the club to chop up another line and formulate a plan.
--------------
Harry leaned back against the cool metal of the van that now housed all the band's equiptment and let himself take a deep
breath. A smile crept onto his features unhindered as he let the exhilaration of the after-show take effect. It had been
a good turnout, and the crowd was excited enough to make it worthwhile - even though most of the self-proclaimed 'punks'
wouldn't know revolution if it shoved it's hard cock up their asses.
Hmm...speaking of hard cock - Harry's mind clicked back to the end of the set, the break-down of their Roots Radicals cover,
a pair of steely silver eyes and shocking white-blonde hair. After a few moments of reverie he pushed himself off of the
van and skittered into the dirty alleyway behind the club to take a piss.
A sort of scuffling alerted him to another presence in the alleyway as he zipped his pants back up and he turned to look over
the expanse. His eyes didn't catch any movement and he suspected rats...though it sounded a bit more like a snake. He
was about to let his curiosity drop and see what kind of groupies he could find to play with when the familiar metallic
click of a lighter sounded from nearby and a flame appeared.
It was him...the blonde one. Leaning casually against the wall, he held the flame to the end of some sort of thin, metal
pipe (Harry could've sworn it was a tire-gauge) and sucked on the other end. After a moment he brought his head back and
exhaled a cloud of rancid-smelling meth smoke into the air then glanced nonchalantly at Harry, who was caught mid-stare.
"Er...oi," Harry stammered, remembering himself suddenly. "Enjoy the show?"
Malfoy's eyes swept over the other boy's form, almost leering, before responding. "It wasn't bad to watch," he answered
cryptically before meeting those green eyes again. His voice sent an unexpected shiver down Harry's spine, smooth and
suggestive with just a touch of roughness from years of drug use.
"Ah...yeah," Harry replied after a moment when he realized he was staring again. Something about the blonde boy was
definately off, to be able to intimidate him like this. He forced himself to regain composure and took a few steps
closer to him, his boots thudding on the pavement. "I'm Harry, by the way. People 'round here call me Scar though." He
offered a hand.
Gazing coolly at his hand for a moment, Malfoy looked back up to Harry and raised an eyebrow, a faint hint of a smirk
playing over his lips. "Scar?," he queried, his tone amused. "Where'd you get that endearment?"
Harry retreated his hand to move a spike that had fallen during performance, brushing the stiff hair back from his
forehead to reveal a lightning bolt shaped scar. "This, I imagine," he offered, smiling with half his mouth.
"Ah," Malfoy breathed, sounding none-too-impressed. "I'm sure there's a fascinating story behind that - " Harry opened
his mouth as if to explain but he was interrupted before he could begin. "Draco Malfoy."
The slim, pale boy held out a hand now and Harry placed his in it. "Nice to meet - " he was interrupted again when the
hand he was holding pulled him roughly towards Malfoy. He gasped in surprise but that, too, was cut short when the other
boy's lips claimed his own roughly.
Malfoy released his hand as he turned and pressed Harry into the brick wall behind them, pressing himself harshly
against the boy as his tongue forced itself into Harry's mouth. Harry tensed for a second then wrapped a hand around the
back of Malfoy's head, pulling him impossibly closer. Someone groaned, though neither was sure who it was, and the kiss
was broken momentarily. Green eyes met grey for a moment, lust consuming all four irises as they stared each other
down before Malfoy's lips formed into that smirk.
"Well, Harry, I certainly hope you perform better in bed than on stage," he told him snarkily before grasping the other
boy's hip and pulling himself back for another bruising kiss. It was a battle of dominance with someone he didn't know, and
Harry had obviously lost...but he couldn't complain, and wouldn't have anyway. Sure beats screwing fan girls.
[A/N to the Dork: You didn't honestly think you could badger me into writing slash SEKS, did you? Happy Birthday. :)]