Warnings: SLASH. You don't know
what it is? Then I seriously doubt that you want to be here.
A/N: I *think* I have fixed the problem with the boxes. Hopefully.
:crosses fingers:
Coupling: H/D
Spoilers: Nada. Zip.
Disclaimer: Nothing here is mine except for the story. Nothing. The
characters- I borrow.
Dedicated to regret.
Kisses
Harry loved Draco's kisses. He loved the way they trailed along the crease of his mouth, tongue teasing teeth and lip.
He loved the way they grazed over his face, like confetti caught by summer breeze.
He loved the way they marked him red and bleeding, his bruises whispering reminders of those lips, that mouth.
He loved how violent they were in their tender grace, Harry's body a shrine and Draco its keeper.
He loved how Draco never stopped kissing him, not even when buried deep, shoving against stone walls, floors, desks, cold frosted dirt.
He loved the pain of it all, the inevitable pain that came from the kisses, the taking, the emptiness-within-fullness.
The emptiness.
There was only one thing Harry did not love about Draco's kisses.
And it was a small thing.
Such a small thing.
So small.
The only thing Harry did not love about Draco's kisses was the way they faded when Harry woke.