title: it means… (1/?)
author: regret
e-mail: theregretfairy@yahoo.com
feedback? that would be de-lish!!
rating: herm…considers slash and certain descriptions, r in our world, pg-13 in an ideal one…
disclaimer: not. mine. i just like to tease them… lyrics ain't mine either…
warning: slash, duh
a/n: this beast attacked me in the car. i request that all who read it give it a swift kick in the rear at the end. thanks.
It Means…
By regret
cruel to be kind, in the right measure
cruel to be kind, it's a very good sign
cruel to be kind, means that I love you baby
you gotta be cruel to be kind.
'cruel to be kind' – letters to cleo
I'm watching him again.
I know I shouldn't, but I can't help myself.
He watches me, too.
He shouldn't, but he does.
This is a rather startling, and recent, turn of events.
He's not supposed to feel it too.
To tempt me with reality when my mind already teases too much.
If I asked him if I could fuck him, right here, in the middle of a Potions lesson he'd say yes.
He'd gasp or whimper or moan and beg me to follow through on it.
But what can I say?
Potter jumps into things he shouldn't without thinking of the consequences.
Lucky for me,
(us?)
I don't.
I think things through until they're dead.
Only then, if it's still exciting, thrilling, necessary, do I act.
And, even then, only if duty allows.
In this case it most certainly does not.
And though I am content to watch,
(and wait?)
my mind isn't.
All to often I snap to attention, realizing class has been dismissed, clammy and flushed, disoriented and in desperate need of a cold shower.
But the dreams…
The dreams are worse.
Too vivid…
Too…real…
Always I wake with sticky sheets,
the feel of his tongue against my teeth,
fingers teasing my nipples,
mouth around my cock,
body straining underneath me,
still tangible.
Still *real*.
It's those mornings when a good wank doesn't help in the slightest.
It's those days when I'm crueler than usual.
Those nights when I practically beg Snape for a sleeping draught, trying to stave off dreams I know are coming.
If only for one night.
Knowing I will welcome them the next.
"Class dismissed." Professor Snape practically hisses, Neville being required to stay behind once again.
Wonder if they're fucking…
Again I've blanked on an entire lesson, but I know he won't fail me and my mind has more important thoughts to tread upon.
Like the way Potter's ass waggles as he walks, laughing and pushing with the Weasel and Mudblood.
I wonder if…
No, no, Weasley is decidedly hetero…
Sickeningly hetero in fact.
They turn the corner and disappointment flickers in my belly.
I was rather enjoying the view…
Rounding the corner myself I barrel straight into the owner of said view.
Our eyes meet as we instinctively reach for each other, trying to steady ourselves.
Fuck.
His hands are warm on my arms and he smells of wood-smoke and cinnamon.
I need to say something, anything…
*Taunting*…
"What the fuck, Malfoy? You did that on purpose didn't you?!?" Weasley exclaims, pushing at me.
Crushing a moment that should never have been, anyway.
"Oh, but of course Weasel." I drawl, rolling my eyes. He's still standing to close. "I have esp and magically *knew* that the lot of you would have *stopped* right after turning the bloody corner. And being so immature as to *thrive* off of knocking into someone I simply couldn't resist." I add dryly, trying to draw out the feel of him by my side.
Trying to memorize it.
And dismiss it.
"Oh ha ha Malfoy." He growls as I get the better of him, again.
Unable to take Potter's continues silence I turn on him to sneer, "What do you have to say about it, Potter? You're the one I knocked into after all. Or does Weasel do *every*thing for you?"
He blinks owlishly at me, as if unable to believe I spoke to him, no matter what it was I was saying.
Then, softly, "What's that supposed to mean, Malfoy?"
Oh shit…
"It means…" His eyes are so gloriously green… "It means fuck. off."
His face twists as it falls to the floor, along with another little bit of my heart and I push through them before anyone can think to reply.
I'm breathing too hard.
And I'm hard as a bleeding rock.
"Damn you, Harry Potter, and all you do to me."
