Chipped Blue Nail Polish
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Chapter 1- My Kryptonite
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He looked at his beautifully manicured and trim nails. They always looked best in dark metallic blue. He studied his hands and nails for a very long time before he briefly stuck the tip of his index finger in his mouth and pulling it out, admired the chipped polish. That's how he liked them. Chipped and ragged. His palm came down on the edge of the sink and he looked up and stared back at himself. Then down again at the magazine with its corner dipped into the wastebasket. The back cover glowed up at him as a boy-man lay sprawled out on a golden background making suggestive, sensual movements every now and then. The "Golden Boy," they called him. With his lightning-white blonde hair and his deep grey-blue gaze that could penetrate your very soul. His sharp, and sometimes pouty, features. His long, slender, toned body that screamed 'Come Rape Me!' And tied together in the centre by a pair of black silk designer boxers of some famous so-and-so...
Harry kicked the wastebasket in disgust and snatched his feather boa off the toilet seat, storming out of his bathroom.
Harry Potter... the Boy Who Lived was now Harry Potter- the boy who sold his body to men for money. His... er- career was JUST like Draco's except you were allowed to touch him. And he could enjoy it, too.
There was a knock at the door.
'I'm about to LEAVE-' Harry half-yelled as he opened the door.
'For where?' Hermione inquired pushing her way inside.
'For work.' Harry replied dryly.
'Work? Hah... you're a WHORE, Harry!'
'I'm NOT! I'm a hooker. And I look nice! Tell me I don't look nice, then!' He demanded, stepping back and twirling around.
'Yes- you look nice. For a man in a mini-skirt and a tank top!' She said shrilly.
Harry rolled his eyes and messed his hair around in the hall mirror. 'I have to go to work, 'Mione. I will talk to you later...'
'Is this new line of work you're in anything to do with Malfoy?' She asked, her eyes squinting in a glare.
'Get OUT of my house!' Harry shouted angrily, pointing at the door.
'I know where the bloody door his! You haven't got to act like I'm stupid when you're the one whoring around thinking it will make one single bit of difference to that prick! And so HELP ME if I find out you're using drugs...' She shouted and trailed off as she stormed out the door and down the stairs. Harry leaned haphazardly against the side of his door and sighed. He was so tired. Exhausted, really. This. job of his took a lot of energy out of one's person. You'd've been amazed at just how many men were in need of a good shag- gay or not.
He did a quick once-over of his quaint, comfortable flat (you really wouldn't be able to guess it was his just by looking at the two) and closed his door.
He didn't turn around for some time. He stood against that door and cycled all of he and Hermione's conversation through his head. He knew what he was doing was. unsafe if nothing else and he most assuredly was NOT doing it to get any kind of attention from Malfoy. That- that.. He sighed once more and pounded his fist against the wooden door and pushed himself away, turning on his heel and walking out into the world.
He wasn't sure if he liked doing this or not. He enjoyed sex. A LOT. He enjoyed the sex he had. It was just the feeling he had afterwards. It almost repulsed him thinking about all these men that would come and go. He didn't know them. Most often he didn't even get a first name. He certainly didn't love them. It paid the bills, he wagered. And apparently that was enough to balance out all the negatives this lifestyle actually was. What got him through it, really, was thinking about Draco. All the nights he spent up in the astronomy tower with that cad. All that sex. All that. what he thought was love. And that's what he hated most. That he was tricked. He was fooled into believing that worthless sack of rubbish that was Malfoy could possibly love ANYONE but himself. Yeah, he was bitter. Bitter, bitter, bitter, bitter, bitter. Oh so bitter. He would never love again. He didn't want to love again. He wouldn't let himself love again. And it was almost too much to let anyone else love him. He was afraid. terrified, and made himself believe that, no- he was just invincible. He needed nothing. Wanted for nothing.
It was like necrophilia tonite. Had he been able to focus on ANYTHING but the fact that someone had gotten under his skin BESIDES Malfoy on this day, maybe it would have worked out.
'GOD! Get. OFF of me!' Harry pulled abruptly away from his current subject, pulling his knees up to his chest and looking over blankly at the wall. 'Please leave. Don't pay. Just go.' He whispered hoarsely. The man pulled on his pants and gathered the rest of his garments and left- and rather ungracefully at that, with a slam of a door, muttering curses, indefinitely, under his breath.
Harry wanted to cry. But he couldn't. If there was one thing he hated it was crying and wouldn't allow himself to do it. Like many other things. He thought himself a restrained person with one weakness. Just like Superman.
'Superman.' He muttered watching his hand leave the side of his calf and swoosh around in the air next to him.
'Draco is my kryptonite. I wanna fly tonite.' He sang. That was something he had picked up when he was with Draco. He remembered perfectly when he had first thought of it. It was after a long night in Draco's Head Boy dorm. boy was that handy!
//'Draaacooo is my kryptonite and I'm gonna flyyy tonite.' He chanted softly. Draco arched a beautifully sculpted eyebrow at his lover and smirked.
'Kryptonite? How about. chocolate.'
Harry grinned jovially and rolled up close to Draco's side, their faces just inches apart.
'Chocolate doesn't rhyme with tonite, love. It's an expression. And I love you.'
'Well, all right. But I love you more.' His platinum headed lover ran a delicate finger over Harry's cheekbone and gazed penetrably into Harry's eyes.\\
He got dressed in a rather sluggish manour and left the hotel room as he always did- clean, made-up and proper. Not a hair out of place. Just like Draco would have done. And now he was homeward bound. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~
A/N: Who loves reviews? Could it possibly be...!? YES, YES!!! I love them! Flames are welcome- it's getting' chilly outside and our heater broke down a couple nights ago. ::grin:: But in all seriousness- PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE review! My very life depends on it! =P
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~
Chapter 1- My Kryptonite
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~
He looked at his beautifully manicured and trim nails. They always looked best in dark metallic blue. He studied his hands and nails for a very long time before he briefly stuck the tip of his index finger in his mouth and pulling it out, admired the chipped polish. That's how he liked them. Chipped and ragged. His palm came down on the edge of the sink and he looked up and stared back at himself. Then down again at the magazine with its corner dipped into the wastebasket. The back cover glowed up at him as a boy-man lay sprawled out on a golden background making suggestive, sensual movements every now and then. The "Golden Boy," they called him. With his lightning-white blonde hair and his deep grey-blue gaze that could penetrate your very soul. His sharp, and sometimes pouty, features. His long, slender, toned body that screamed 'Come Rape Me!' And tied together in the centre by a pair of black silk designer boxers of some famous so-and-so...
Harry kicked the wastebasket in disgust and snatched his feather boa off the toilet seat, storming out of his bathroom.
Harry Potter... the Boy Who Lived was now Harry Potter- the boy who sold his body to men for money. His... er- career was JUST like Draco's except you were allowed to touch him. And he could enjoy it, too.
There was a knock at the door.
'I'm about to LEAVE-' Harry half-yelled as he opened the door.
'For where?' Hermione inquired pushing her way inside.
'For work.' Harry replied dryly.
'Work? Hah... you're a WHORE, Harry!'
'I'm NOT! I'm a hooker. And I look nice! Tell me I don't look nice, then!' He demanded, stepping back and twirling around.
'Yes- you look nice. For a man in a mini-skirt and a tank top!' She said shrilly.
Harry rolled his eyes and messed his hair around in the hall mirror. 'I have to go to work, 'Mione. I will talk to you later...'
'Is this new line of work you're in anything to do with Malfoy?' She asked, her eyes squinting in a glare.
'Get OUT of my house!' Harry shouted angrily, pointing at the door.
'I know where the bloody door his! You haven't got to act like I'm stupid when you're the one whoring around thinking it will make one single bit of difference to that prick! And so HELP ME if I find out you're using drugs...' She shouted and trailed off as she stormed out the door and down the stairs. Harry leaned haphazardly against the side of his door and sighed. He was so tired. Exhausted, really. This. job of his took a lot of energy out of one's person. You'd've been amazed at just how many men were in need of a good shag- gay or not.
He did a quick once-over of his quaint, comfortable flat (you really wouldn't be able to guess it was his just by looking at the two) and closed his door.
He didn't turn around for some time. He stood against that door and cycled all of he and Hermione's conversation through his head. He knew what he was doing was. unsafe if nothing else and he most assuredly was NOT doing it to get any kind of attention from Malfoy. That- that.. He sighed once more and pounded his fist against the wooden door and pushed himself away, turning on his heel and walking out into the world.
He wasn't sure if he liked doing this or not. He enjoyed sex. A LOT. He enjoyed the sex he had. It was just the feeling he had afterwards. It almost repulsed him thinking about all these men that would come and go. He didn't know them. Most often he didn't even get a first name. He certainly didn't love them. It paid the bills, he wagered. And apparently that was enough to balance out all the negatives this lifestyle actually was. What got him through it, really, was thinking about Draco. All the nights he spent up in the astronomy tower with that cad. All that sex. All that. what he thought was love. And that's what he hated most. That he was tricked. He was fooled into believing that worthless sack of rubbish that was Malfoy could possibly love ANYONE but himself. Yeah, he was bitter. Bitter, bitter, bitter, bitter, bitter. Oh so bitter. He would never love again. He didn't want to love again. He wouldn't let himself love again. And it was almost too much to let anyone else love him. He was afraid. terrified, and made himself believe that, no- he was just invincible. He needed nothing. Wanted for nothing.
It was like necrophilia tonite. Had he been able to focus on ANYTHING but the fact that someone had gotten under his skin BESIDES Malfoy on this day, maybe it would have worked out.
'GOD! Get. OFF of me!' Harry pulled abruptly away from his current subject, pulling his knees up to his chest and looking over blankly at the wall. 'Please leave. Don't pay. Just go.' He whispered hoarsely. The man pulled on his pants and gathered the rest of his garments and left- and rather ungracefully at that, with a slam of a door, muttering curses, indefinitely, under his breath.
Harry wanted to cry. But he couldn't. If there was one thing he hated it was crying and wouldn't allow himself to do it. Like many other things. He thought himself a restrained person with one weakness. Just like Superman.
'Superman.' He muttered watching his hand leave the side of his calf and swoosh around in the air next to him.
'Draco is my kryptonite. I wanna fly tonite.' He sang. That was something he had picked up when he was with Draco. He remembered perfectly when he had first thought of it. It was after a long night in Draco's Head Boy dorm. boy was that handy!
//'Draaacooo is my kryptonite and I'm gonna flyyy tonite.' He chanted softly. Draco arched a beautifully sculpted eyebrow at his lover and smirked.
'Kryptonite? How about. chocolate.'
Harry grinned jovially and rolled up close to Draco's side, their faces just inches apart.
'Chocolate doesn't rhyme with tonite, love. It's an expression. And I love you.'
'Well, all right. But I love you more.' His platinum headed lover ran a delicate finger over Harry's cheekbone and gazed penetrably into Harry's eyes.\\
He got dressed in a rather sluggish manour and left the hotel room as he always did- clean, made-up and proper. Not a hair out of place. Just like Draco would have done. And now he was homeward bound. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~
A/N: Who loves reviews? Could it possibly be...!? YES, YES!!! I love them! Flames are welcome- it's getting' chilly outside and our heater broke down a couple nights ago. ::grin:: But in all seriousness- PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE review! My very life depends on it! =P