Disclaimer: I own nothing. Everything belongs to JK Rowling.
Fun fact: I've decided to re-post and finish It's An Art, since I finally have a storyline for it.
Fun Fact #2: Had my first psychologist visit recently. Apparently I have Inattentive Attention Deficit Disorder (which is really no big deal. I felt like I was being told I needed glasses all over again). I guess that explains why I have trouble focusing on the things I do in my day to day life, let alone my fics. I'm hoping to start some kind of medication to help, so fingers cross.
Warning: Lemon.
Glitter
By
So Devious
Chapter Three
Draco's Journal (written on a scrap sheet of paper) – June 19th
I shouldn't have gone back.
Draco was surprised to come back to an empty flat, but couldn't complain. Those buffoons would never know he even left, which worked for him. Visiting Scorpius was bittersweet: he would always be happy to see his son, but it only reminded him how much he missed being home, despite what his parents had done to him.
They said that they meant well, and perhaps they did. Perhaps they honestly believed that locking him away in an insane asylum – oh, pardon me, rehab clinic,- and not allowing his son to visit was in his best interest. But how could make any kind of sense, Draco often wondered, tearing him away from the only thing, the only person who gave his life any meaning. He could take a lifetime worth of photos, in a half-million different poses, and sell them for all the fortune in the world, and he'd throw it all in the rubbish bin for his son.
Sighing pathetically, the blond let himself drop and sink into the sofa like a stone in water, finally resting on his side and curling into a ball. He simply wasn't the type to feel sorry for himself, but what else could he do? He very well couldn't go home, and he couldn't bring Scorpius here to live with what Draco could only assume were common criminals.
He wasn't sure when he had fallen asleep, or how long he'd been out before the constant ringing of the telephone pulled him out of a heated dream of black hair and green eyes.
"Hullo?" his voice was rough with sleep when he answered the phone.
"Where's our coke?" The voice on the other end was gruff and impatient.
"Excuse me?"
"You heard me. Where's our coke?"
"Who is th-"
"Shut the fuck up!" The other man shouted into the receiver, and Draco visibly flinched. "I'm not going to ask you again. Where is our fucking coke?" The blond began to panic. What the hell had Harry gotten himself into?
"I'm sorry, we don't have any Coke. We might have some Pepsi in the fridge..." There was a pregnant pause, and Draco didn't know whether to laugh at his own joke, or kick himself for screwing around. This man could be a killer for all he knew.
The mystery man chuckled darkly, sending a shiver down the blond's spine. "You got balls, kid. What's you're name?"
"None of your business!" Draco shot back. The man chuckled again.
"No matter. Probably just another one of Potter's whores." Draco couldn't explain it, because it didn't make sense to him, but the man's statement made his blood run cold. "Listen sweet cheeks. Tell my friend, Harry, that we want our coke, or our money, by high noon on the 21st, at the usual spot. Let him know that if he doesn't show that he, that fucking prat Weasley, and you will all come up missing." Before Draco could reply, the line went dead.
His mind was reeling, and a feeling of dread instantly sank into the pit of his stomach. It was just his luck: he escapes from a clinic and lands himself in a crack house.
'What do I do?' a pathetic voice in his head asked. On one hand, he could run, and not look back. Let Harry and Ron figure out what to do for money. But on the other, he couldn't just leave his Harry like that; high and dry. After all, maybe whatever the man was looking could very well be in the flat somewhere, just waiting to be handed over.
With a stroke of inspiration, Draco set of to search the place, intent on looking high and low for something that might save his Harry.
glitter
"It's such a shame what happened to that boy." Mrs. Granger sighed from her place next to Hermione on the living room sofa. It wasn't uncommon for her parents to join the three while they hung out, after all, Ron would, someday, be their son in law, as well as the father of their grandchild. "What do you suppose happened to him?"
"Lord only knows. No one's heard word from or about it, no calls for a ransom. It's like he just fell of the face of the planet." Mr. Granger replied.
"Dad! What an awful thing to say!" Hermione reprimanded, protectively holding her bulging stomach as though shielding her baby from such words.
The group was crowded around the television, listening somewhat intently as the local news recapped the days events.
Hogs Local News – June 19th 7:58 pm
The Hogs Local News has been granted permission by Mr. and Mrs Malfoy to interview Draco's son, Scorpius Malfoy to get an account on what he witnessed of last nights break in.
"I thought I heard a noise, and I thought maybe dad had come back. So I went to his room to look and these two blokes were there, packing things up for him."
"Now, Scorpius, how do you know they were packing things for your dad?"
"They had his things...what else would they do with them?"
"Now, sweetheart, were you able to see what they looked like?"
"Nuh-uh. It was too dark.. One was tall...they were both taller than dad."
There's no word yet on whether or not law enforcement will use young Scorpius' statement to aid the investigation, but we'll bring you more details as we get them. If anyone has any information on last night's break in, or the whereabouts of Draco Malfoy, please call 321-555-7583.
"How dreadful, making that poor boy give a statement! Hasn't he been through enough?" Mrs. Granger gasped. Harry saw where Hermione got it from. However, he couldn't help but agree, it seemed wrong that they would ask something like that of someone so young. Scorpius' face was blurred, as were most minors' when they testified on such things, but his voice was innocent and syrupy sweet, and it was obvious he was oblivious as to what was really going on that night. Why the Malfoy's would even grant the studio permission to interview him was beyond him...
'Wait...'
"Ron, I think it's getting late, I'm gonna go on ahead." Harry stated, a little too quickly then he would have liked, but he had to get back to that little rat. Won't take calls, indeed.
"O-okay, but what's the hurry, mate?"
"Nothing!" Harry replied, "Just getting a little beat, is all." Without any other explanation, the raven-haired man got up and booked, gliding down the streets in a blind rage.
glitter
The living room was empty when he made it home, when only angered Harry more. Surely the little punk was smart enough to not run. He threw his jacket on the sofa with excessive force before noticing a light on down the hall. 'He couldn't be...'
But sure enough, he was. When Harry reached his bedroom, the door was cracked, the minimal light of his desk lamp pouring into the darkened hallway. He could clearly see Draco, sitting at his desk, holding one of Harry's most prized possessions: the sterling silver picture frame, the only thing his aunt and uncle let him have after what had happened.
The anger in him dulled to a simmer, allowing him to actually get a good look at Malfoy. His startlingly blond hair poured around his head, forming a curtain around that infuriatingly handsome face of his. The light of the desk lamp reflected off of it like a halo, making him look so much more surreal. Still not noticing Harry's presence, Draco shoved the hair away from his face so it all cascaded down one side. Honestly, Harry could see why Draco was so successful. His features were so delicate: from his full petal-pink lips to his pert, ski-jump nose. Not to mention those eyes, that were currently so full of...what, exactly? Sadness? Harry didn't know, but he did know that the man was beautiful, and it was surprisingly hard to stay furious with him.
Taking a deep breath, Harry pushed open the door and entered his room. Draco's startled eyes shot up to him before the man visibly relaxed.
"Oh, it's you." He stated simply before turning his eyes back to the picture fame in his hand. Harry scoffed.
"Yeah, it's me..."Harry replied simply, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. "What'cha got there?"
"You tell me...family?" Draco asked, holding up the shining silver frame. Harry shrugged, although the thought of talking about it pulled at his chest and caused a lump in his throat.
"My parents, on their wedding day. They passed recently...it's all I really have left of them."
"Just a picture?" Another shrug.
"Family squandered the rest. I guess they can't tell real silver or else they would have pawned it. I guess I should be so lucky they don't..." Draco took another long look at the photo, and Harry pushed himself off the wall to move behind the chair where the blond was seated, looking over his shoulder at James and Lily's smiling faces.
"I'm sorry...she was so beautiful, wasn't she? Like a storybook princess. She must have been an amazing mother..." Harry didn't respond, unable to think about it. He had a wonderful relationship with his parents, and he missed them so much, but he hated talking about them. It only reminded him so much more that they weren't around anymore.
"Wanna tell me why you lied?" Harry asked, changing the subject.
"Lied? About what?"
"About your dad. The local news managed to get a hold of him, so I imagine you can too...and I'm sure you knew that." Draco turned his head sharply to face him.
"You got a phone call." He stated simply, and Harry couldn't help but think something was really off with the man. "Something about cocaine?"
"What does that have to do-"
"You're running from them, aren't you? Or hiding at the very least..."
"What are you talking about? Running from who?" the raven-haired man was getting frustrated with all this talk of mysterious phone calls, but as soon as the word cocaine left his lips, he knew. That, however, didn't mean he couldn't play dumb.
"Don't lie! They said they want to meet, high noon, on the twenty-first. That you'd better have their drugs or their money, or they'll..." Draco physically choked up, unable to let the word pass his lips. Harry had no words, and could only sigh and run a hand through his already unruly hair. He knew he and Ron were in trouble, but just hearing it heard from someone else, having it pass through their lips and into his ears was like a bullet through the head: harsh and mind-shattering. "I'll help you, you know. I'll help you in any way I can, on one condition: you can't send me back."
"What? Why would you do that?" He could barely get the question from his lips before Draco shot up from the chair and moved toward the brunet.
"Because I get it, why else?You've been hiding from them. I'm hiding too. I was running and hiding, and lost with no place to go, no place to take my son." Draco kept advance on him, and Harry kept backing up until his knees hit the edge of the bed, dropping him into a seated position. "Then you came along." the blond whispered as he climbed into his lap, his lips mere centimeters away from Harry's. "You came along and saved me..."
Before Harry knew what was happening, his was lip-locked with the blond, who was kissing him with more passion than he'd felt from any of his past lovers. A timid tongue pressed against his lips, asking for entrance that Harry gladly permitted before sliding his hands beneath the soft cotton t-shirt and running his finger tips along Draco's heated flesh. Taking the gesture as encouragement, the blond quickly hoisted the shirt up and over his head, exposing the creamy expanse of his torso to the man below him, who quickly set to work marking every inch he could reach. Hell, he was a man, after all.
Fueled by hunger, Harry flipped them over so the Draco was lying flat on his back, staring up at him with a lust-filled gaze clouding his pewter eyes. He latched onto the blond's neck, kissing and nipping as his cock hardened with every sigh and moan that escaped Draco's throat.
"He-he called me one of your whores..."the blond sighed, effectively stopping Harry in his tracks.
"What?" he asked, his head shooting up to stare into those bright beautiful eyes.
"He asked who I was...when I didn't answer, he said I must have been one of your whores...is it true?" He'd be lying if he said he'd never had lovers before. He'd be lying even more if he said you could even consider many of the one night stands lovers, rather than warm bodies he brought home to 'keep him company' after a night out, when Ron wanted to spend his time - and his whiskey dick – with Hermione.
But something about Draco felt different. Sure, out of all the people he brought home, at least one of them were bound to understand what he was going through. That was simply logic. But not one of them cared enough to reach out like Draco had, not gave a damn enough to even fix their lips to offer help. It was then that he decided Draco was more. Maybe not a lover, but definitely worth keeping around.
"No." he replied finally. "No, it's not true." The blond visibly relaxed, sighing as a small smile played across his lips.
"Take me." He whispered, and Harry was more than happy to oblige. He set back to work at placing little love-bites across Draco's neck and chest while running his finger tips down his sides before removing the tiny cotton shorts as the blond squirmed and keened beneath him. Every sound that poured from his mouth was intoxicating, and only made Harry want to dive into his tight body even more.
The brunet slowly worked his mouth down Draco's body, licking a trail down his taut abdomen and all the way to his heated sex. Draco's breath hitched as Harry's tongue did wicked things to him, licking him from base to tip before practically swallowing him whole. As he worked to bring his blond closer the the brink, his fingers caressed his milky white thighs, spreading them apart before he set to teasing the puckered ring of flesh in the center. He carefully slipped a finger in teasingly, sucking harder on Draco's cock to try to ease the pain in his arse.
"Harry!" Draco gasped, his fingers curled into his own hair as though he were losing his mind from the sensations coursing through him. "God, st-stop teasing."
"What do you want, pet?" Harry cooed, kissing the inside of Draco's thighs as he slowly eased another finger in, hoping that Draco was holding up well against the pain he was undoubtedly feeling.
"I want you. Now." the blond panted, and Harry couldn't hold out after seeing the hungry look in his eyes. Making quick work of removing his own clothing, Harry was soon coating his throbbing erection with lube before positioning himself at Draco's quivering entrance.
Taking a deep breath, Harry pushed in slowly, his cock twitching as Draco let out a breathy moan.
"Oh my God..." the blond keened as he fisted the pillows beneath him. Harry was huge, as he'd imagined many times in his short stay here, but he didn't imagine how full he'd feel when his charming thief finally breached him.
Harry set a steady pace with slow yet hard strokes, searching deep for the one spot...
"Oh...fuck!" Draco shouted. Bingo, the brunet thought as he made quick work of reducing Draco to a quivering mess of orgasmic bliss, repeatedly hitting his prostate until those silken walls tightened around him. Draco's mouth fell open in a silent scream as he came, his seed spilling against his stomach in short spurts. Harry followed soon after, filling the blond with his hot seed.
Note: Two for two Tuesday, and it's not even Tuesday. So, I've noticed that fanfiction dot net doesn't allow any kind of special chartachters now, which is odd because they worked fine in the first few chapters. Every scene change was marked with a minus sign, which the site will not show. I will try my best to fix that asap, and for now they'll be marked with glitter. Anyway, if you enjoyed my stopping point, review (and refer a friend so they can review.)
