Blood Lust
.::Disclaimer::. All characters belong to that lucky wench J.K Rowling, but I sometimes like to invite them over for tea.or a quick snog. MUAHAHAHA!
And so it begins.
Draco saw him, saw him at that moment like no one else had seen him: defeated, vulnerable, tired- Godlike. He was coming back from a particularly snowy and freezing quidditch game, the first one ever where he had been defeated by the sneering Slythrin Seeker himself. It was a sweet victory, and yet.God he couldn't help himself. Harry hadn't even bothered to change out of his dripping robes; they now looked like a wrapped cape of blood hugging the boy's incredible body. Draco watched as Harry walked up a flight of stairs, turned down a particularly dark hallway and ran a hand through his also soaked hair. Draco followed silently, his anticipation growing with every breath he drew. Harry stopped suddenly, hearing footsteps. The few lights provided in the hall, added to the full moonlight pouring through the window he had just stopped by were very poor substitutes for the bright light he needed and they only managed to show him shadows and no follower like he thought he had heard. Draco couldn't stand it anymore. He threw away his stealth and grabbed Harry from behind, just as the other had started to walk away again.
Draco held Harry tight against the cold, ancient wall of the desolate hallway, and tight against himself; Draco's fist full of Gryffindor's scarlet robes. His senses were intoxicated. He was in pure ecstasy. The crisp metallic air mingled with Harry's individual and, presently, post- quidditch scent bringing the blonde image after erotic image of other ways to make him smell so musky. Not only his nose, but the Slytherin's eyes were in bliss as he took in the site of his captive. Raven hair mussed by the wind and sodden with wintry water, brilliant jade eyes wide in anticipation. Draco could feel more than see the other boys chest beat in a hurried rhythm, but what captivated his site the most was the occasional flicker of a pink tongue wetting even pinker lips- as fear seemingly left them dry. Draco barely suppressed a groan.
"What do you want, Malfoy?" Harry hissed, slapping the other out of his reverie. The serpentine boy frowned at his surname usage, but quickly turned it into his malevolent and infamous smirk. He leaned in closer, lips brushing daringly over Harry's ear, "Like you don't know?" Draco, more than ever, felt Harry's heart-rate quicken as he gave a tiny "oh!" exclamation. Draco slowly reached into his own quidditch robe pocket of cobra green and retrieved a small, icy dagger. A midnight wind blew over both boys from a nearby window, capturing the strange and deathly still moment. Harry shifted his head slightly to see what Draco had in his hand, and in doing so let his face become illuminated by the pale moon and flickering torchlight. Draco's eye's once again returned to the other boy's lips, now in full view.
"Harry." was his only warning as he brought the knife down fiercely upon the other boys bottom lip, leaving a fine, deep line. The blade clattered to the floor, and Draco let Harry slide after. The victimized boy looked definitely into the stormy eyes of his enemy. But where he expected to laughter he saw concern, yes, but hunger was etched deep into his Slythrin features. Draco couldn't wait any longer. And as a single drop of blood fell upon Harry's pale fingers Draco captured his bloody lips with his own, never intending to let go- like Harry was the only thing that kept him alive. Like Harry was the only thing keeping him alive.
And he was.
Harry moaned, barely able to murmur the others name. Draco seized his chance to explore his lust even further and went into a total invasion *mode. Draco was straddling Harry by now, his green mixing with red, blonde and black becoming a blur of one color, smooth, pale skin becoming indistinguishable from one body to the next. He placed his hands on the rough wall, bracing himself as he plunged into Harry, losing himself completely. Harry's blood tasted metallic and sweet and beautiful and dark at the same time; his tongue was soft and curious. Dear GOD, why had Draco waited so long for this?
Harry was the first to break off, gasping for breath and wiping his chin. He studied his stained hand briefly, also hypnotized by it. A breeze ruffled across the pair again, but they had tumbled into a shadow by then, hidden from the world and now more than ever it seemed to be just the two of them, and maybe in the distance- starlight. Draco had slowly pulled himself off of Harry. He was incredulous. How could he have done that? Draco scrambled away to the parallel wall, head hung in shame.
"Malfoy..." the 'victim' whispered, rising and quietly stepping over to the blonde only to stoop down again. Harry gently reached up to wipe a trail of blood off the others now red mouth. "Fuck it." Harry growled and jumped on to Draco, pushing him down onto the stone floor.
Draco smirked in return. No, he was not letting go any time soon.
.::Disclaimer::. All characters belong to that lucky wench J.K Rowling, but I sometimes like to invite them over for tea.or a quick snog. MUAHAHAHA!
And so it begins.
Draco saw him, saw him at that moment like no one else had seen him: defeated, vulnerable, tired- Godlike. He was coming back from a particularly snowy and freezing quidditch game, the first one ever where he had been defeated by the sneering Slythrin Seeker himself. It was a sweet victory, and yet.God he couldn't help himself. Harry hadn't even bothered to change out of his dripping robes; they now looked like a wrapped cape of blood hugging the boy's incredible body. Draco watched as Harry walked up a flight of stairs, turned down a particularly dark hallway and ran a hand through his also soaked hair. Draco followed silently, his anticipation growing with every breath he drew. Harry stopped suddenly, hearing footsteps. The few lights provided in the hall, added to the full moonlight pouring through the window he had just stopped by were very poor substitutes for the bright light he needed and they only managed to show him shadows and no follower like he thought he had heard. Draco couldn't stand it anymore. He threw away his stealth and grabbed Harry from behind, just as the other had started to walk away again.
Draco held Harry tight against the cold, ancient wall of the desolate hallway, and tight against himself; Draco's fist full of Gryffindor's scarlet robes. His senses were intoxicated. He was in pure ecstasy. The crisp metallic air mingled with Harry's individual and, presently, post- quidditch scent bringing the blonde image after erotic image of other ways to make him smell so musky. Not only his nose, but the Slytherin's eyes were in bliss as he took in the site of his captive. Raven hair mussed by the wind and sodden with wintry water, brilliant jade eyes wide in anticipation. Draco could feel more than see the other boys chest beat in a hurried rhythm, but what captivated his site the most was the occasional flicker of a pink tongue wetting even pinker lips- as fear seemingly left them dry. Draco barely suppressed a groan.
"What do you want, Malfoy?" Harry hissed, slapping the other out of his reverie. The serpentine boy frowned at his surname usage, but quickly turned it into his malevolent and infamous smirk. He leaned in closer, lips brushing daringly over Harry's ear, "Like you don't know?" Draco, more than ever, felt Harry's heart-rate quicken as he gave a tiny "oh!" exclamation. Draco slowly reached into his own quidditch robe pocket of cobra green and retrieved a small, icy dagger. A midnight wind blew over both boys from a nearby window, capturing the strange and deathly still moment. Harry shifted his head slightly to see what Draco had in his hand, and in doing so let his face become illuminated by the pale moon and flickering torchlight. Draco's eye's once again returned to the other boy's lips, now in full view.
"Harry." was his only warning as he brought the knife down fiercely upon the other boys bottom lip, leaving a fine, deep line. The blade clattered to the floor, and Draco let Harry slide after. The victimized boy looked definitely into the stormy eyes of his enemy. But where he expected to laughter he saw concern, yes, but hunger was etched deep into his Slythrin features. Draco couldn't wait any longer. And as a single drop of blood fell upon Harry's pale fingers Draco captured his bloody lips with his own, never intending to let go- like Harry was the only thing that kept him alive. Like Harry was the only thing keeping him alive.
And he was.
Harry moaned, barely able to murmur the others name. Draco seized his chance to explore his lust even further and went into a total invasion *mode. Draco was straddling Harry by now, his green mixing with red, blonde and black becoming a blur of one color, smooth, pale skin becoming indistinguishable from one body to the next. He placed his hands on the rough wall, bracing himself as he plunged into Harry, losing himself completely. Harry's blood tasted metallic and sweet and beautiful and dark at the same time; his tongue was soft and curious. Dear GOD, why had Draco waited so long for this?
Harry was the first to break off, gasping for breath and wiping his chin. He studied his stained hand briefly, also hypnotized by it. A breeze ruffled across the pair again, but they had tumbled into a shadow by then, hidden from the world and now more than ever it seemed to be just the two of them, and maybe in the distance- starlight. Draco had slowly pulled himself off of Harry. He was incredulous. How could he have done that? Draco scrambled away to the parallel wall, head hung in shame.
"Malfoy..." the 'victim' whispered, rising and quietly stepping over to the blonde only to stoop down again. Harry gently reached up to wipe a trail of blood off the others now red mouth. "Fuck it." Harry growled and jumped on to Draco, pushing him down onto the stone floor.
Draco smirked in return. No, he was not letting go any time soon.