Disclaimer- Don't own any of it except the somewhat cliché plot and the fun things I make the characters do to each other. The characters belong to JK Rowling and the lyrics quoted are Placebo's.
A/N the first- This is the fifth and final installment of my Ice at the Train Station Series. If you haven't already, please read Ice at the Train Station, Staring at my Shoes, White Sheets and Wrong Without You. It will make the most sense if you do. This is not a song fic. I do quote lyrics at the beginning but that's only because I can't keep music out of anything that I do. Forgive my weakness. And, yes the lyrics below are not in English. I've included a translation at the bottom, but as I'm nothing near fluent in the language, I've taken some license translating it. And finally, much thanks to Juxtaposenz for the beta job! It's so much better now!
Sommes nous les jouets du destin
Souviens toi des moments divins
Planants, éclatés au matin
Et maintenant nous sommes tout seuls
Perdus les reves de s'aimer
Les temps où on avait rien fait
Il nous reste toute une vie pour pleurer
Et maintenant nous sommes tout seuls
Protégé moi
Protect me from what I want
I've been all over the world. I've seen everything in a whirlwind of culture and language. Every city and country of any note at all, I have been there. I feel like I was frantically looking for something. But to be perfectly honest, I've been running. Running from the memory of him. It hasn't been very effective thus far.
I see him everywhere, my mind insinuating his phantom in places he couldn't possibly be real. In every exotic city, in the crowds on the streets, in the corners of my rooms, behind my closed lids as I lie in bed at night. It seems he's following me, haunting my every step. And each time I run further, I still can't get him out of my head. His memory chases me wherever I go. No matter what it is I'm looking at, he is all that I see. His flaming red hair or deep chocolate brown eyes. Freckles sprinkled over creamy skin. It all reminds me of him.
I stopped running when I came here. There are many reasons why this country, this city became my sanctuary. The beauty of the city and it's people; the history, the art, the culture. It's a haven of tolerance. Everyone is welcome here. Doesn't matter the color of your skin, your social status, or even your sexual preference. Everyone is home in this city. It's easy to blend in, and most importantly, easy to hide. But as much as I enjoy all these things, I have a feeling if I looked hard enough that maybe I could find them elsewhere. So what really made me stop running?
On the metro, 2 rows down, there was a red head, with deep brown eyes. It was not the first time I'd seem someone who reminded me, painfully, of him. But this time there was one significant difference. There was a blond sitting right next to him. I watched them as they sat with their heads and hands together, their eyes on no one else as they whispered to each other. Somehow that sight imprinted itself on my heart and made me want to stay. I can only explain it by saying it feels like us, together. I can almost feel him here with me. I'm sure he'd love this city as much as I have come to. This is where I've made my home.
I'm sitting here on the balcony of my flat watching as the city around me wakes. This time of morning is so serene. With the cool fragrant air heavy with the promise of the warm, beautiful day to come. I can see the famous gray tower over the rooftops of the old buildings surrounding mine and visualize the swarm of tourists that will soon congregate there. I'm calm here, far away from the chaotic world of people rushing around in droves. I've finally found a place to slow down and relax and sometimes I find I get lost inside my own head.
I really haven't done much since I got here, just what any other insanely wealthy and unreasonably attractive 19-year-old male would do in a foreign city. I rented this nicely furnished flat to take a different person back to every night in my attempt to chase him out of my head. It has yet to work. He occupies my every thought and every night there's someone new in my bed. Maybe I do it because I need the quick fix of physical intimacy. Maybe I hope that every stranger's touch, every kiss, every midnight moan will aid in scrubbing him out of my memory. In actuality, I just can't bring myself to settle for anyone but him. I don't need companionship from them. I've always appreciated my time alone, content in the confines of my mind. The sex though, that's different. It's a necessity. The only thing I need from them.
Although most become faceless bodies in my mind, there have been several notable exceptions. The tall blond on the piazza, the dark skinned beauties roaming the boardwalk, the man in leather in the dark nightclub, the brunette boy on the train who gazed so coyly up at me with heavily kohled eyes. I've had them all between my legs. But it doesn't matter who they are, because they are not him. It all just keeps coming back to him. No matter how hard I try, in the end my thoughts betray me and always come back to him.
I'm waiting for my latest conquest to wake. I left him sprawled naked in my bed. He's beautiful, of course. Very enthusiastic and eager to please. Images of the boy naked and glistening in my bed turn into visions of him above me, face flushed, red hair tangled, in a dusty abandoned classroom. I try not to think about it. I'm sure he'll be up soon and I'll push him out the door and get on with my day. There's so much one has to do you know. I have to get my coffee from the café around the corner, walk through the retail quarter (avoiding the inevitable red hair I'll see in every crowd), probably spend more money on things I don't need, and then look for my entertainment for the evening. It's a busy life. Oh… and, there he is. At least he is dressed already. Yes, yes of course I'll take your number and of course I'll call. Here's your jacket. Here's the door. Have a nice life. Ah… the only thing better than the first taste of conquest is the freedom of liberating ones self from it. Now for that coffee.
Just down the street, to a little café and patisserie. No one does coffee like these people. They know how to enjoy it and relax. In no hurry, just watching as the world rushes by. There now, nothing like sipping a strong cup of coffee. I love to just sit and watch the crowds, absorbing the culture and language. I spend hours at it every day. It never fails that his memory invades the scenery before too long, my imagination transforming passing strangers.
Yep, there it is, the illusion right on time. He's standing on the sidewalk, leaning against a lamppost, arms crossed over his chest. This one is too perfect. Looks just like him. Tall, lanky, freckled, perfectly coppered hair, long nose, creamy skin, perfect body. Amazing. He's looking at me with beautiful brown eyes. Open wide, somewhat amused. Familiar…
And I'm up, stumbling over my stool and hurrying toward the street. My heart is in my throat and my pulse is racing. It can't be, no, it's not him. Just my imagination again. I race back to my flat, up the flights of stairs, key in the door, shut it behind me but no, it won't shut. There's a foot… Damn.
"Draco." his voice, deep, rich, slightly choked and a bit emotional. I know it's him. Only he could express so much with only one word. I open the door. There he is, in all his glorious beauty. I've never seen him look so good. Dark fitted jeans, white button up over white t-shirt just tight enough to make out the contours of his muscles, his hair finger combed and longer than I've ever seen it. He's smiling at me; he must know how much I'm enjoying the view.
"Draco…" He repeats, as if gently reprimanding a naughty child.
"Ron" I manage to breathe out.
He pushes his way past me into my flat and seats himself on the sofa. He looks perfectly at ease. I watch him, wondering where he got all this newfound confidence. I must look dumbfounded because that is how I feel. I don't know what to say and it looks like he's enjoying my bewilderment immensely. I just stare at him for a few moments in silence.
"Why?" I finally ask. I'm not quite sure myself what I'm asking but I'm as desperate as a Malfoy gets to know the answer.
"Because I had to find you." He says it confidently with a tone of finality. I sink to the sofa next to him and he puts his hand on my thigh. I lean into the touch longing for more…but this is going against all I had decided! I quickly stand and move behind a chair trying to assess the situation. This seems to spark something in him. There is the defiance, burning behind his eyes, which I have so longed for. He stands up and stalks toward me. He eyes focused directly on mine.
When did this happen? When did the predator become the prey?
"You're not going anywhere" almost daring me to make a move. I back away slightly feeling an urge to run from his voracious stare. How does he make me feel like this? I'm almost to the door.
"I'm not going anywhere, Weasley. But I think it's time for you to leave." I force out and even manage a weak smirk. I reach for the handle…but now he's grabbed me.
His strong arms wrap around my back, holding my arms to my side. His face is so close to mine. I can smell him, fresh and sweet. And I can't move. Overwhelmed by the feeling of him so close to me, I've forgotten to struggle. I hate that he can so easily take me by surprise. Oh, he's talking now…
"…don't care if I have to put you in a full body bind, you're never getting away from me again. Do you hear me, Draco?"
Of course I hear you, how can I listen to anything else! All I've done, all this time, is think of you and now you're here… I can't possibly focus on anything else. But no, this isn't fair. This isn't what I decided! I'm not going to do this to you again! Look what I've done to you already! Where is your anger? Your passion? This feels so wrong, why aren't you yelling? Why aren't you getting angry?
"Let me go, Weasley." It's the only thing I can force out of my mouth with my brain yelling so loudly between my ears.
"I don't think so Draco. Not gonna happen. You can't run away now. I've found you and I'm staying."
"Let me go, Weasel" Instinct, I'm going on pure instinct now.
"Pretend all you want, but that won't change what's happened. You confessed. And I'm not going to let you forget it. Or deny it, which at the moment seems more likely. You want me with you. So that's where I'm going to stay."
"As touching as that sentimental drivel is, Weasel, I'd have to say it's even more delusional. I don't know wha….
Again, I'm caught by surprise. Your kiss obliterating all my defenses. Oh…I've missed this. Your lips are soft but firm and insistent. I can feel the need start to grow in me as you press your lips more fervently against mine.
"I recall… you saying…you were in shambles… worried about me…" you say breathily between kisses. "That I was… too good for you…"
I silence your words with my mouth. Your tongue darts out and licks across my lips, begging for entrance. There's nothing I can do to stop myself, and I'm not sure I would if I could. I've wanted this for so long. You slide your tongue past my lips and I gently massage it with my own. You've let go of my arms but I've only just realized it. I wrap them around your neck, the urgency of the kiss increases. I hear you moan softly and that only amplifies my desire. It's beyond instinct now; there is nothing more basic in me than the need to kiss you back, to feel your lips on mine and your tongue in my mouth. It's warmth and heat and passion and power and everything that I never want to lose again.
All I can feel is where you are touching me, holding me close to your body. You wrap your arms tighter around me and pick me up off the floor. Your tongue slides over my lips as you place me roughly on the couch. I feel your weight press down on me and your lips slide down my neck. You lick up to my ear and I feel your breath, warm and moist, and you whisper in my ear.
"I've missed you …so much."
I can't prevent a low moan from escaping my mouth at the husky sound of your voice. It is deep and rich and thick with desire. My hands grapple at your robes, pulling your body as close to me as possible. Your hips collide with mine and I can feel your desire for me rub against my thigh.
But all of sudden it's gone, your warm body, your lips on my neck, your scent filling my nose. It's gone and replaced with cold and emptiness. I almost howl in the pain of it. My eyes shoot open and I look for you. You are kneeling between my ankles with a mischievous smirk on your face. The look is familiar but I've never seen it on you before. Slowly you unbutton the Muggle shirt you're wearing and slide it off your shoulders. You grin at my squirming and pull the t-shirt over your head. Pulling at my arms to make me sit up you slide my shirt up my chest. Bending down, you drag the tip of your tongue from navel to sternum; my whole body shivers. I yank the shirt over my head.
You've already started on the button to my trousers. I move to help but you slap my hands away and push me back onto the sofa. You look at me, wide-eyed and hungry. I watch your eyes drag down my chest and feel your fingers follow after them. Leaning down, you swirl your tongue over my chest and as you lick your way down to my stomach you pull down my trousers. You nip at that tender area where leg meets torso. I can feel the teeth marks as your tongue swipes over the indentations. Your hands slide over my thighs and I feel your cheek brush past my erection. I can't control the jolt that runs through my body and I find my hands in your thick hair. You smile up at me and your lips are millimeters away, hovering over my tangible desire, your breath ghosting across my heated skin. You stare straight into my eyes, daring me to look away.
"Say it Draco."
"Anything… just, Ron… please…" is all I can get out. Now is not the time for talking!
"Tell me" You're looking right into my eyes, I don't know how much more of this I can take.
"Please touch me… I need it…need you"
At that your mouth covers me and I gasp at the suddenness of the warmth surrounding me. You move your mouth slowly up and down, teasing me. I feel your tongue swirling over the length, tracing indistinct patterns along my skin. It's perfect, and it's bliss and I never want it to stop. I shudder as you wring moans out of me so deep I feel the ground is shaking beneath me. Your mouth swirls over and around me and it's all I can do to keep my hands still, clinging to your hair. You take me in deep and I feel the pull grow stronger. I want this… this heat… this perfect vacuum.
And those fingers slick inside me, moving, stretching… Nothing else, I don't need anything else. It's such exquisite pleasure, I can't stop, can't hold back, as my body spasms and my hands clench in your hair. You hold my bucking hips down until I lie limp and boneless under your ministrations. You lick me clean and then trace your tongue back up my body. Your lips find mine and you lay your weight over me, holding me close as I catch my breath.
After a moment of listening to our rhythmic breathing, I reposition and wrap my legs around your waist and my arms around your back. I can feel you press against me and ease yourself into me. Taking your time at first, you slide gently in and back out, murmuring formless words in my ear. You slowly fill me over and over and it's all I can feel. I thrust my hips up hard onto you, my almost unintelligible moans for "harder" urging you further and faster into me. My back arcs of it's own accord as I feel your hips slamming relentlessly against me.
Both hands find their way into your hair and I urgently pull your face down to mine. Your lips collide with mine and it's teeth and tongue and passion and we're so close… my hands move to your back pulling you in rhythm with your thrusts… my face buried in the curve of your neck. I feel your body tense, your movements erratic, as you call out my name and collapse on top of me. We cling to each other while our breathing calms. Your head is on my shoulder and I feel you place tiny kisses there.
You hoist yourself up onto one elbow and look down at me with the smallest hint of a smile in one corner of your mouth. I lower my eyes away from your gaze, almost feeling ashamed of myself. I want to tell you I'm sorry for everything. But I don't think I've ever apologized sincerely before and I'm not quite sure it will come out right.
"Thank you" Is what I eventually hear coming out of my mouth.
"For what…?" You always have to make things difficult.
"For not believing my bullshit…" at least I'm honest, "…and for coming after me."
You smile at that, a genuine smile like what I've just said is the one thing you've been waiting for me to say. You lift your hand and run it through my hair. It feels so good; I tilt my head toward your hand, yearning for more of your touch.
"Say it again, Draco," your voice pleads as your eyes search my face.
"I-I need you, Ron," I force out. It's something I've thought enough times but the words are hard to speak.
You lean down and capture my lips with yours. The kiss is at once tender and sweet.
"You will stay with me…Ron?" I state hesitantly, eyes watching my hand play in the tangled strands of your hair. I want you so badly to stay. To share this safe haven with me. Having you here with me for just a little while would keep me content for the rest of my life.
"I will stay for a bit…but,"
My eyes dart up to yours and I watch you anxiously.
"I want you to come home with me." You're looking directly into my eyes, your hand still stroking through my hair. I'm not sure you'd let me say no.
"Home?" I ask lamely even though I know what you mean.
"Draco…" there's that tone again, "Home, my home. Not now, but soon. We'll stay here for a couple of days. But then I'm taking you home. For good, not just for the night. I want to be with you. I want time to figure you out."
"You want me to live with you?" I squeak, astounded. Ok, I'm still playing dumb but I really want to hear it from your own mouth. To make sure that this is really happening.
"Yes, Draco, let me spell it out for you. I. Want. You. To. Live. With. Me. I want us to be together every day. I want to have you there to call me a prat when I do something stupid and to tell me I could do things better. I want to yell at you and try to understand you and get so frustrated with you that I have to kiss you just to shut you up. I want to make you moan in pleasure and scream my name every night before you fall asleep in my arms. I want to wake up with you draped over me, and kiss you even though we both have morning breath. I want you to be there to kiss me goodbye before we go to work in the morning. I want to be able to walk around everyday knowing that at night I'll be with you. I want you to be with me for all the little things I used to have to do alone. I want you to be there to make me happy but more importantly I want to be there to make you happy. I want you to be mine and I want, more than anything else, to be yours."
I can't help the smile that spreads over my face. You're still holding me with one arm wrapped firmly behind my back. Your body is still laying over mine and your hand is still running through my hair. You're still here and I almost can't believe that this is all real. I'd never let myself expect too much and here you are offering more than I could have ever hoped for.
"I'm getting good at the sentimental drivel, aren't I?" You grin at me and I groan at your attempt at humor. I lift my hand to brush a lock of hair out of your face and settle further back onto the sofa. You kiss me softly and lay your head on my chest.
"This is not going to be easy, you know." I murmur into your hair as I kiss the top of your head.
I hear you whisper just as I drift off "I'll take that as a yes. I think we're up to the challenge."
Vague Translation of Placebo Lyrics-
We are the toys of destiny
Remember the divine moments
Gliding, burst in the morning
And now we are all alone
Lost the dreams we loved
Times when we had done nothing
There remains to us a whole life to cry
And now we are all alone
Protect me
A/N the last- So I hoped you liked it. It was a wrench to finish, believe me. But I'd love to hear what you think about it! Any and all comments welcome. I'm a glutton for punishment. And the change from he to you was intentional. It's a running theme if you caught it. I don't know if I'll ever get another idea for a story but here's crossing my fingers that I do. Lastly I want to apologize for the (looking back) very cliché story arch. I was naïve in the ways of Ron/Draco slash when I started it and have matured vastly since. Thus the over 3-month wait on the last installment. Sorry about that. Hopefully my muse will hit me with something more original next time. Til then!