Pairing: Draco/Harry, meaning SLASH!!
A/N: I'm bored and I want to write something angsty, but I don't wanna start something new, so I decide to rewrite this. It's almost completely rewritten, but the plot is still the same.
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He smiled
He is truly beautiful.
Under the tender and misty lighting of the prefects' bathroom, with every inch of his pale and flawless skin displayed generously, he looks ethereal, but striking. His eyes are two whirlpools of mercury, mercilessly drowning me in their chaotic current, taking my breath away.
I reach out my hand slowly to take his, carefully pulling him towards me.
He doesn't object. Unlike last time... last time where he instantly shied away, rejecting me with carefully chosen callous words…
I shake my head slightly, dismissing the memory of that night a month ago. That was the past, I tell myself, as I press my lips hesitantly onto his. He is not pulling away, he's kissing me back, and this is perfection.
I bury the other hand in his soft strands of silky silver. He submits under my touch and wraps his own hands around me.
God, I've wanted this for so long. Ever since we had that awkward truce and became tentative friends, I've wanted him. I've wanted him to submit himself to me like this, to want me like I want him, to love me like I love him.
Finally, after months of agonizing longing, I can have him.
My heart starts to race as I deepen the kiss. My tongue curls around his and he moans. The sound sends tingles from my ears, straight down my spine, to my already swollen flesh. I pull him impossibly closer as our kiss becomes more urgent.
Breathless, I let my lips leave his for a second. But, a second is too long. My mouth is on him again, traveling along his jaw, nipping and licking, to the sensitive spot under his ear.
"Tell me you love me," I whisper pleadingly, "say it, please."
"I love you, Harry." He complies immediately. His voice, usually low and drawling, is now gasping and husky. The same voice that denied me a month ago…
No, I don't want to remember that. I ignore the part of my mind that doubts the truthfulness of his words.
I gently ease him down to the floor, onto where our discarded robes lay messily, my hands and my month never a moment leaving his skin.
Our hips brush against each other, creating an enticing friction, and causing a sharp intake of breath from him. I can tell he is just as aroused as I am.
Pleased with his reaction, I smile against his neck. My hands start roaming every curve of his lithe body, as my lips glide downward, across his slightly muscular chest, stopping at his nipple. I dart out my tongue, swirling around it once, twice, thrice… until the pinkish nub hardens, and his breathing becomes rougher and rougher. I bite him gently, inducing a throaty moan, before I continue down towards his belly.
My lips pass his abs, his navel, reaching where he wants most attention. I take a deep breath, inhaling and relishing in the fresh, clean scent of soap. I look up at him from between his thighs. His cheeks are flushed, delicate mouth slightly parted, panting in anticipation.
My tongue grazes his tip gingerly, lapping tiny drips of bitterness. He throws his head back and another guttural sound of pure pleasure is emitted from his throat, encouraging me to continue. With growing confidence, I engulf him whole.
He clutches the clothing underneath him firmly, and his hip involuntarily jolts upward, attempting to dig even deeper into me. I settle him down with my hands, as my mouth keeps sliding up and down, creating a rhythm with which his cries of 'yes' and 'god', among other inconceivable mumblings, are synchronized.
I almost miss my own groans as I concentrate on pleasuring him. Our mixed erotic sounds resonate in the damp bathroom air, echo by the walls, exciting me even more. I can no longer neglect myself, so I reach one hand down and start stroking.
With a loud 'Harry', he reaches his climax; And I swallow every last bit of his bitterness.
I hover back up, placing a soft kiss on his lips as he catches his breath.
One of my hands reaches between his eagerly spread legs, seeking his entrance. A little whimper escapes from his lips when my fingers enter him, stretching his muscles.
Once he's sufficiently relaxed, I position myself at his entrance. He laces his legs around my waist, and I implant myself as deeply as possible inside him.
Oh, God, this is heaven. This is what I wanted.
Draco, moaning and writhing beneath me, pale complexion completely rosied, hands gripping me, eyes squeezed shut in sheer ecstasy.
All my senses seem to have heightened when having Draco so deliciously tightly wrapped around me. Every sound seems ten times more seductive, every scent a hundred times more intense, every caress a thousand times more intimate. And Draco can't be more beautiful…
This isn't just sex, I realize, this is making love.
I'm making love to Draco Malfoy.
I bend down to capture his lips again, savoring every moment of this euphoria.
"I love you, Draco, so much." I sigh into his lips.
He rocks his hips slightly, willing me to move. I relent. Slowly, I withdraw partially, but then push myself back in almost immediately again. Repeating this movement and stroking him at he same time, I gradually increase my speed.
I can feel at the pit of my stomach and at the core of my heart the passion building up, aching to break free.
Our quickening breaths, ecstatic screams, and clapping of flesh on flesh all blend together in an overwhelming mixture of love and lust, consuming us, burning us until we can no longer hold on to ourselves, and, together, we explode with release.
Utterly exhausted, I collapse on top of him.
I sigh in contentment. I can stay like this forever.
When my breathing is somewhat back to normal, I shift towards him. I close my eyes and kiss him again, pouring my soul into another moment of absolute intimacy… And then I open my eyes.
That's when the perfect dream ends.
Oh, no, don't get me wrong, this isn't a dream. Well, not a dream in the usual sense.
His eyes slowly blink open too, but they are no longer bewitchingly argent, but dull and dark. His hair is also no longer the feathery platinum, but rough locks of raven not unlike mine. His skin darkens, his frame broadens. And then, I'm looking at one Blaise Zabini, no longer Draco Malfoy.
I push myself off from him.
"Fuck." He exclaims, "That was the best fuck I've ever had. Had I known you'd be this good when I'm him, I'd have used the polyjuice potion sooner."
I'm silent.
What the fuck am I suppose to say? I'm just reminded that the perfect scene I created is nothing but a mere illusion. An illusion Zabini and I devised together to attain, at least for a short blissful moment, what we want but can never have. Because that's why we started this affair in the first place, we are both in love with someone who doesn't love us back. He, with my best friend, and I, with his best friend.
But, God, how can I let myself believe it was real, even for a second?
"Next time, you'll drink the polyjuice potion." Zabini says while sitting up and casting a cleaning charm on both of us, " And you know whose hair you have to bring."
I nod, still staying silent as he starts dressing himself.
Why did I ever think the polyjuice is a good idea?
It just shows me more clearly than ever what the reality is: that he doesn't love me, that I can never have him.
The moment of bliss had shattered like fragile glass.
Sitting in the middle of the dim and dingy bathroom, reeking of sweat and sex, all I can feel is the emptiness inflating from my heart.
Suddenly, the door to the bathroom swings open. I quickly grab my robes to cover my nakedness before turning to the intruder.
But, I freeze when I notice who stepped in.
Draco.
He is stunned looking at us, surprise written all over his face.
Shit, what should I do now? Should I tell him this is not what it looks like? Will he listen to our explanations? What if he doesn't believe that this thing between Zabini and me isn't serious? Should I confess my love to him again?
I'm so confused, I don't know what to do. And from the look on Zabini's face, neither does he.
But before we can do or say anything, Draco recovers from his initial shock, and he smiles at us.
He's smiling at us.
It's not even one of his malicious smirk. It's one of those my-best-friend-just-hooked-up-with-someone-and-I'm-so-happy-for-him smile.
A smile I've yearned for so long to see is finally bestowed upon me, but all I want to do now is scream at him, strangle him, curse him, do something, anything to him to stop his smile.
"I'm sorry if I interrupted anything. I'll leave you two alone now." He says, without even trying to hide his amusement from his voice and his eyes. Then he turns and walks away.
I stare at his retreating back, my jaw hanging open, my body unable to move an inch.
He fucking smiled.
I think Zabini is looking at me with pity right now, but I can't think straight.
He fucking smiled.
I feel like I was thrown into a sea of broken glass. Billions of shards are piercing painfully into my bare flesh from every direction, and I bleed and bleed and bleed, until every shard is tinted red…
He fucking smiled.
He smiled.
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A/N: Well, better than last time?
