A/N: Well, for those who know my writing style and what-not, you'll be rather suprised with this one! A twisted romance! I've never written something like this. But anyway, I'll shut up and let you read... Based loosely on the song Self Esteem from The Offspring (Merlin, the song came out before I existed o.O).
Summary: Harry and Draco, with short views of their horribly twisted, entangled romance. Harry/Draco. One-Shot! By DW.
Warning: Bad language, mostly. And a bit of sex.
'This is wrong. This is unhealthy. It's not right. But God, I don't think I can manage to stop this.' He frowned, and shook himself, while muttering, "Of course I can stop this. But do I want to…" The only thing he could do was pace on the rug in front of his fireplace, while frowning. "I'm an adult. I can make my own decisions."
The phone rang, and he hurried to pick it up. "Hello?"
"Hello, Harry. Can I come by later today?"
"No. I already told you as such. This is only like, what, the tenth time today?"
A sigh was heard at the other end of the phone. "Alright. I guess I'll see you later. Bye."
"Bye." The dark haired man hung up, before he banged his head against the wall. He rubbed the sore spot with a grimace, before he sat down and grabbed a cup of tea. The relationship they had… It simply wasn't normal, nor healthy.
After drinking his tea, he cleaned his apartment, until he was satisfied. The bell rang, and he walked over to the door to see who was visiting him. Maybe Ron or Hermione found some spare time. When he opened the door, however, a blond head greeted him, not a red or brown one. "Draco," he said drily.
The blond smiled charmingly. "Hello, there, Harry. Do you mind if I came in?" Without waiting for his consent, he manoeuvred around the dark haired man and seated himself on the couch. "I couldn't wait to see you again."
Harry stood indecisively at the doorpost, before he sighed and closed his door. He knew Draco was using him, but he guessed he wanted to be used. The blond was like a drug; addicting and hard to part from. He made them dinner, and wondered if the other man would be crashing here. It was hard to tell, since his sleeping pattern was irregular at best.
Dinner was pleasant enough, if not for all the flirtation. Harry was used to it by now. Draco just shrugged, got up and turned on the television, flicking through the channels until he settled on some horrible soap.
The dark haired man just shook his head and made some tea for the both of them. It would be one of those days.
Harry tapped his foot at the carpet of his living room, frowning down at his watch. The blond should've been at his place half an hour ago. He knew the blond would find a way to ruin his evening. He nearly always did, and he wondered why that idea hurt. He knew their relationship, if it can even be called that, was mostly based on being fuck buddies. They had both agreed on that, and it suited their needs fine. On the occasional day they went out clubbing, Harry was usually left alone. He wondered why he still felt so bitter.
He waited up until two in the morning, before he angrily switched off the lights. He was pissed at himself, and moreover at Draco. The prick always abandoned him. He realised bitterly that he shouldn't feel so let down. The rejections dragged him down, and he was tempted to tell the blond as such, but he would just be laying ammunition in the blond's open and outstretched hands.
Harry was in a fine snit. Oh, he was, but he didn't let it show. The softly whispered words "I want only you," were tempting, and he wanted to believe them, but couldn't, for how could he be the only one, when he knew the blond could be sleeping with Dean for example the next day? He really tried to stick up for himself, but kept asking himself why. He liked their arrangement, so why was he still dissatisfied?
Not that he could think coherently with his cock buried deep inside of his lover. Nor with those sensuous lips which were skating over his sensitive flesh.
His release felt hollow.
"Fuck, Draco, are you drunk again?"
The blond ignored his complaints and shoved a badly coordinated hand in the front of his trousers. Harry hissed and tried to pull back, but the blond knew what he liked, and damn it if he didn't use it to his advantage.
The dark haired man let the other's arm go and groaned, banging his head against the wall behind him. He didn't care. Nor did he care that he was being used and abused, as they tumbled to the bedroom, the blond barely managing to stay upright. He knew he should stop it right then and there, but…
He guessed he just didn't have any self-esteem.