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SPIDERWEB
Chapter 12 - Hates
In the end the world was reduced to a bloody cave of stone, a dying man (if he could be called so), and spells mumbled until turning unintelligible.
Each second hanging from the edge of the next beat, the next inspiration.
Draco offered every healing spell he could remember, and some he only intuited could help. Until he had no more magic to give.
Exhausted, the wand slipped from his numb fingers. His breathing had grown slow, trapped between his lips and his lungs like stagnant water. His heartbeats, heavy, had the cadence of tired steps.
He sank down against the rock, leaning his back on something wet that he would not look at, his legs spread out on the ground before him.
At his side, the other was still unconscious, but at least he no longer trembled with pain. Draco had done everything he could, now, if he lived or died it was not in his hands. However, he could still make him a little more comfortable, at least.
With his last energies, the blond raised Raksa's inert face, and rested his round skull, soaked in blood and grime, on his lap. His trembling fingers tangled in the sticky locks (marble-white between black hair dyed reddish-brown), without strength.
Under his fingertips and claws, which he did not know had bloomed instead of his nails, he could feel the heat of the other. His warm skin in his lap, the life still running in the battered casing.
There was a sound on the edge of his perception, something more than their mingled breaths and the plick-plock of red drops sliding to the ground; An almost hushed, hoarse, and worn, murmur.
Draco realized that the voice was his, and that he was intoning words he did not remember.
"Don't die, don't leave me now, don't leave me, Raksa. Don't you dare leave me, you miserable bastard!" The murmur turned into an inarticulate, choked cry, that made his throat ache and his eyes fill with tears.
He was shaking.
"If you abandon me, I will never forgive you," he muttered, voice dry and cracked. "Don't you dare leave me alone." his hand moved a little, trembling convulsively, to caress the head.
His white palms bathed in crystalline chitin, between dark hair.
Inside, something achingly intense, had made its way through the joints of his bones, unstitching the person who was Draco. Bringing something intimate and strange to the surface; A throbbing flame that did not hurt, a low moan like a cicada's. A strange need, an organic reaction similar to breathing, to the magic that had always been in his veins, like the throb of his heart.
Draco was no longer Draco, he was something else.
And when this new thing, still shaken, looked at Raksa, whose face was a mask of dust, sweat, and clotted blood... a terrible, hungry feeling, trimmed with claws and teeth, unfolded across every fiber of his body.
This not-Draco creature, leaned over Raksa, scenting the smell of his skin; Vitae, sweat, and the intimate, intimate spice, that marked him as one of them.
Through the slit of his half-open eyes, Raksa's face, so close, looked like a huge, reddish stain, like a watercolor flower.
"Stay with me." The whisper was an almost inaudible sigh, on the battered skin. It was breathed by the other, sneaking through the holes of his nose, to reach inside his body.
What was no longer Draco, felt a deep satisfaction in being aware of this; Because ... Raksa was his, His, HIS.
The idea unfolded in his skull, insidious, sinking tiny and sharp nails into his cerebellum.
Gently, the new being buried his nose in the sweaty temple of the other, sucking its scent. Feeling the touch of dirty and hard hair. His lips traced the curve of a cheek, a chin, a mouth... lips against lips, soft and warm.
He blinked, breathing deliciously in the other's breath.
Raksa's face was an unrecognizable mask, under the crust of filth. And the creature wished to clean it, to be able to look underneath, to know his human form, as already knew the spider and the hybrid.
To know who he was.
The idea blossomed delicately, as a carnivorous plant opens in its appetite.
Impossible to ignore, it mixed with the oxygen in his lungs and made itself be breathed through his body.
Here he had no water, no clean rags, and though he could have conjured them, the possibility never crossed his mind.
He had far more pleasant ways to do it.
No-Draco gently licked a strip of skin, savoring the mixture of human blood, male sweat and burning ash.
His tongue traced the other's face. Delicate licks alternated with kisses, with whispers. Until the face was completely clean. The skin no longer so pale, visible to his scrutinizing gaze.
He lay still, cheek against cheek, the smell of the other on his lips, his nose... so close to being able to meet the human within Raksa ... savoring the moment before the revelation, as the pleasure before a kiss. Almost more delicious than the encounter of tongues and lips. He raised a finger, still slightly trembling, to trace the jaw, the patrician nose, the lips...
"You're so familiar to me..."
The dark lashes twitched. He barely moved from the other, his breathing contained. Raksa's eyelids trembled... and his eyes opened.
Greens and intense, for a moment, the pupils were the soft, sweet green of the grass in summer, only a little disoriented, but a second later, every shadow of sleep evaporated, and with them any trace of softness.
The pupils became faceted stones of rust green, the look of a predator watching him from a human body...
His tangled hair slightly parted from his forehead... a thunder scar between the disordered locks, suddenly impossible to ignore.
Draco felt his breath catch, his world bend, his heart stopped.
"... Potter?" The whisper, incredulous, delicate, broke between his teeth. Almost without sound. But so close, Harry could not help but catch it.
"Malfoy," he whispered back. And now he made the effort to get up, away from him.
The sudden distance was a deeper wound yet, and the thing, non-Draco, shrank in pain and returned to the depths of the human, leaving only Draco with his pain, anger and rage.
(Harry)
Opening his eyes, and seeing Malfoy leaning over him, he realized that what he was gazing at, was his hybrid form; Immense gray eyes with no pupil or trace of the witness of the eyeball, spider fangs between pure white lips, touched with crystalline chitin. He had not known how to react. His heartbeat had accelerated...
But a second later, his name had come out between those lips, and he knew he had to put a safe distance between them.
He did not want to be on the ground for what he knew to be coming.
(Draco)
The pain was terrible.
" ... You ... " There were no words to give it shape, no way to appease it. His vocal cords seemed to have become entangled with barbed wire, and every sound was an agonizing effort.
Anger, black and dreadful, burned his insides.
His body, desperately weak, almost failed to rise, but the pain gave him the strength to get up.
He was shaking uncontrollably.
"... How could you?" The words came out strangled, shattered. And when he just received an absent look in response, he could no longer remain sane. "Son of a bitch!"
He threw himself at Potter, but he was already waiting for him, and the claws that would otherwise have been embedded in his throat were stopped when Potter's hand snapped closed on his pale wrist.
The gesture did not stop Draco, and he attacked with the other claw, fast as a snake. This time Harry received a deep scratch in his side, before being able to hold him back. The pain only served to ignite his own anger.
"Enough!" He roared.
"FUCK YOU!" Draco threw back.
Entangled in a knot of taut limbs, face to face, Draco could barely breathe, but there was enough fire in his gaze to scorch Harry, who was unable to hold it.
Visceral guilt and hatred tangled in Harry's guts, disrupting him. 'Malfoy didn't know a thing about what had happened. He had no right to talk about what he did not understand. Nor to demand explanations.'
Without really realizing it, he had pressed his pale wrists bones painfully against one another.
Suddenly, Draco burst into a broken laugh, like metal against stone. Cold and disgusting, it turned into a rictus of visceral hatred.
"All this time ... and it was you. YOU LEFT WHEN YOU WERE MOST NEEDED. YOU LET THEM BELIEVE THAT YOU WERE DEAD! YOU! LET ME GO!"
He may have been weak, trapped, but mad anger is a powerful source of energy. And even with his hands still trapped, Draco still had fangs.
With a fast movement that Harry did not anticipate, Malfoy locked his jaw in the gap between his neck and shoulder. If Harry had not moved instinctively, the bite would have caught his throat.
The poison of a submissive is a strand different from that of a dominant, and instead of making him languid and calm, the drink raised his most primary instincts. And in this situation, it was anger.
Harry roared, finally furious; Anger by the words of that Death Eater who knew nothing, anger by the bite, by the slash. Burning anger calcining his bloodstream.
He grabbed Draco by the hair, pulling him away from his neck by force, crushing him against the stone, pressing his face against the bloody wall, and trapping his arms behind his back with one hand, in a wild maneuver, too abrupt for Draco, weak and miserably tired, to avoid it.
"Don't talk about what you don't understand, Malfoy," he whispered in his ear as his own skin grew rapidly black, dark chitin blooming like insects on the epidermis. "You know nothing about me."
"Do I not?" Draco hissed against the stone, resisting despite being able to smell the other's fury. "Nothing can justify what you did, what you have done to me." Words that dripped poison.
The guilt became more intense in Harry, mixed with anger, with the pain still half forgotten of the last hours, his fury.
A sulfuric acid cocktail.
Horrible, painful, unbearable.
He had to shut him up.
Black fangs pierced white skin.
To be continue
Note: There it goes a new chapter. It's taken so dam long... My exams are taking their tool. I don't know if I will be able to post on time this December, but I will try.
On the other hand, I bring you a little spoon of drama. Things are getting interesting and kind of difficult. Don't know how this is going to turn...