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reenkaI think anytime I talk too much about fandom, I lose my focus. Especially if/when I talk about fandom while grumpy and angsty and stressed from end-of-semester blues. That's not why I'm here. That's not what I care about. The meta's nice, but it makes me aggravated if I do it overmuch, especially while under stress. As I'm sure some of you have noticed, I've been rather negative lately. Grrrr. Um. Nothing like a nice, relaxing bit of not-quite-porn to break things up a bit. This is why I'm here. This is what I do. This is what's important.
Hello, my name is Reena. I write gay porn instead of doing homework. *curtsies*
On an unrelated note, if you've friended/defriended me within the last week, I don't know now and possibly will never know unless a) you tell me or b) I'm randomly checking out your journal and go, "wow, I can/can't see friends-locked entries! neat-oh/wah!" ...Well, you know. Cutting back on fandom. Fandom, what?? Ha. *coughs*
This is for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
spare_change, because she makes me remember to stop and breathe, and my Snape/Draco might really take awhile. Much (porny) <3 (and angsty blow-jobs).
Disclaimer: not mine.
Author's Note: Written to Chad Kroeger's "Hero", on repeat. Not exactly recommended when you're half asleep.
Dedication: To Slytherlynx, with heartfelt appreciation for her amazing sanity. Here's some angsty blow-job fic for you, eheheheheh. Back to basics, man.
And they say that a hero can save us
I'm not gonna stand here and wait
I'll hold onto the wings of the eagles
Watch as they all fly away
--Chad Kroeger
- The Sound of Wings -
The only time Draco Malfoy pondered the meaning of existence had been the first time he had Potter's cock in his mouth.
Most of his mind had been occupied with disintegrating into formless screams, but some part of him flew free, feeling magnanimous. Potter might have Draco on his knees, because this-- this felt like victory. This felt like capturing some unnamable vastness and holding it still as it beat within his mouth. Some part of Draco's mind was quiet and satisfied; who knew these things could be so simple?
Potter hadn't even struggled that much. Potter hadn't struggled at all.
He was salivating so much he might've choked on his own spit, and his head spun so much he had to hold on to Potter's hips not to sway sideways.
Draco wasn't on his knees for long.
He could feel the sweat creeping into the folds in his eyelids, the hair sticking to his temples, the backs of his thighs cramping with strain. He couldn't breathe enough, couldn't get enough, couldn't even feel his toes. His left leg had fallen asleep some minutes or hours ago, and there was a roaring in his ears. Potter could have been screaming for him to stop, and Draco wouldn't have known; that was how he liked it.
::
The first time Draco Malfoy sucked another boy's cock, it was the evening after the first battle.
The blood still swam behind his eyes when he closed them, and all he could hear anymore were the screams of his friends-- his Housemates-- everyone he'd known better than to trust. He'd barely been able to see Potter walking towards him through the same fog of rage and futility that had kept him alive; kept him from moving.
It had been dawn, and the sky was the perfect blue Draco never remembered having noticed before. Had the sky ever been that blue over Malfoy Manor? Had his father ever noticed? What would his father say if Draco had asked him, back then? Draco didn't want to think of it.
The wind was cold, cold enough to slip beneath his skin, and down his bones, and between his ribs.
Draco had stood still and watched as Parkinson and the others said their parts and cast their curses. They'd all been well-trained. This should go off without a hitch, shouldn't it?
He'd watched and waited for his moment, because there was going to be only one, and Draco knew better than to miss it. He'd leaned against the tallest tree within speaking distance and waited, watching the blue of the morning sky slowly darken. Perhaps it was only this blue on days like this, or perhaps it was something about the Forbidden Forest. Draco knew there must be thestrals and centaurs and all sorts of Dark Creatures nearby, unknown and invisible to him, all of them waiting for their moment along with Draco. Some of them were undoubtedly waiting for Draco, and that thought kept his back straight and his skin prickly with apprehension more than any of the foul curses flying back and forth directly in front of him.
It was a good day to get what he wanted, he thought, watching as just another black-clad form strode purposefully across the field. None of the curses or spells seemed to hit him, but Draco hadn't needed that to know who he was. He'd known because of how everyone had stopped and looked, the way even the wind grew still for a moment, then suddenly turned violent. Somewhere at the other end of the clearing, there was a high, brittle laugh.
Draco had known, but he didn't look. He'd cocked his head and looked up at the sky instead, seeing a formation of dark shapes flying past him and disappearing beyond the treetops.
::
When Draco Malfoy weighted Potter's cock on his tongue, he had a fleeting memory of those birds as they moved swiftly forward, vanishing. He hadn't been looking when the first blood was spilled; not really. He had been waiting, and that was a different sort of thing altogether. There was nothing to see until his time had finally come.
The night before, he'd thought about it for the first time: actually losing. Everything being over. Draco didn't think he would die-- didn't think he could die, really-- but the world as he knew it could end, he was forced to admit that. It could be over for them. Everything could stop, just like that, under a sky that favored those with dirty blood and garish colors and pointless, stupid courage.
Maybe Potter would die, too. Maybe there would be an explosion of white light, something huge and blinding, something Draco would forget because remembering was out of the question. He'd read about that in books, and though he'd remained skeptical, some part of him was tight with wordless dread. The year the war had started in earnest, Draco had woken up and realized he was living out his nightmares and there was no end in sight.
He was alone and nothing helped for quite long enough. Nothing. The Gryffindors and the Mudbloods were pale and drawn and twitchy as hell, but that didn't amuse him as much as he'd expected. Worse yet, they ignored him.
And the worst part of all was, Potter was still The Boy Who Lived. He was going to live and Draco was going to die, and it wasn't fair, but--
--Draco didn't think so.
He thought Potter would crumple in a heap, wasting away to a pile of dust before his eyes. Potter would look at him then, one last look, and he'd be sorry, but it would be too late. It had been too late from the start, for Potter and his sort.
He'd raised his eyes to the sky because he'd already known what he was going to see. Potter would be bright, maybe brilliant. Maybe he'd be blinding. Potter would be something far away from him, something like a sun; nothing like a sun. And Draco would hate him so much he'd be frozen with it. And then Potter would rise onto the battlefield and Draco would stand and wait for the moment to pass.
::
When Draco had found him, Potter looked half-dead. Draco's job was nearly done for him: Potter was covered in blood and dirt and sadness, and his eyes were so empty, Draco could see himself in them. It was the way he was swaying on his feet; the way he mouthed Draco's name; the way he'd nodded at the wand dangling limply from Draco's own hand. They each told him everything he'd wanted to know. Ever the hero: has to give the old school irritant another go, does he. For old times' sake. Wrap things up nicely.
"Well, well," he drawled, stepping slowly forward. Potter's face held no expression, and some part of Draco flared to life, seeing that. He wanted something which was at the tip of his tongue. Perhaps it was just to make Potter bleed, and perhaps it was to wipe the blood off that mouth before he spoke to him. It made Potter look defeated, which was all wrong because it was a lie, and that wasn't good enough now. "If it isn't The Boy Who Wouldn't Die."
"Don't you have somewhere else to be, Malfoy? Or someone else to be there with? A Dark Lord to service, maybe?"
Potter sounded tired more than anything, and this was no fun at all anymore. Draco knew when to switch tactics.
"So tell me one last thing, then," Draco said with his dry mouth, fist curling around his wand. This was his moment, and he was going to play it to the hilt.
Potter had tilted his head sideways, watching him. Draco licked his lips.
"Are you a hero, Potter?"
It had startled Draco to hear Potter croak like that. He supposed that was meant to be a laugh. Draco wondered where everyone was and why in the bloody hell he'd thought it was such a great idea not to look.
"You know the answer to that, Malfoy. Ask a better question, come on."
Draco took a breath. "What do you want?" He felt pretty stupid, asking that, and he had no idea where it came from, but he didn't have time to think. It seemed to be working, anyway.
Potter's jaw tightened, but he didn't look away. They watched each other, and Draco noticed Potter's chest lifting and falling, lifting and falling. Something about that movement would've been calming, in another situation entirely, if they'd both been completely different; if Draco was someone who was allowed to notice the flat expanse of the other's chest.
Quite incidentally, he'd looked up at the sky above them just then, and the sun had hidden behind a cloud. All he could see was a pale bluish-grey. Draco hated the cold, fickle British spring with a passion he'd usually reserved for losing and Potter.
"Today to be over," Potter said at last.
"And...?"
"And-- love, I suppose."
Draco coughed dryly, his chest constricting. There was something obscene about hearing that word spoken between them in any context; possibly simply that word having any relation to Potter.
"You'll never have it, Potter," he said. His hands were cold, curled into loose fists in his pockets. These were good trousers. Draco could remember that particular shopping trip that last summer very well. His father had told him they'd fit, and they did.
"You think so?" Potter didn't sound defensive, just mildly curious, sod him. Nothing he could say mattered now-- none of it had ever mattered, had it. Draco bit his lip, weighting his options.
"I know so," Draco snarled, shoving him. Potter looked startled, but Draco wasn't watching for a reaction. There was a rushing in his ears, and suddenly, he felt a surge of pure raw power.
Draco latched on to the juncture of Potter's neck and shoulder with his teeth, still not biting as hard as he knew Potter wanted him to. There was a slick cascade of epiphany glazing his mind, making Draco almost dizzy with sheer exhilaration. And now he knew that most of the blood hadn't been Potter's: the skin was smooth and unbroken and only slightly tinged with metal and smoke and curses. It was a good taste; Draco also knew he could get used to it, so he pulled away.
And then Potter's hands were in Draco's hair, holding him tight, pulling hard and making his eyes smart with tears in reflex. He'd pushed Draco down onto his knees before he'd been ready, insistent and unbelievably strong. Unstoppable. Potter was panting so hard his legs shook-- or maybe that was Draco.
Draco choked on a breath. This wasn't how it was supposed to go.
"No fucking way," Draco hissed, right before he'd started to mouth the dirty fabric of Potter's trousers, lapping up the filthy taste and smell and texture like he'd never have enough.
Potter only gasped and thrust his hips sharply forward, and the rushing sound in Draco's ears just got louder. His lips were curling around the shape of Potter's cock through his trousers, moving up and slowly descending, as if Draco thought to learn everything Potter wouldn't want him to know. The cock kept pulsing, beating with life even through the extra layer between their skin, and suddenly Draco couldn't get enough. It wasn't Potter, somehow. It was the most powerful feeling Draco could remember, and he wasn't going to let go until the ride was done. This couldn't be Potter; this was just skin and a heartbeat and blood, all this blood, rushing and beating and impossible to stop.
The first time Potter came that night, the wetness spread sluggishly, soaking through the dirt-crusted jeans. He'd curled inwards as much as he could, bent over Draco, with his hands digging into the other's shoulders. For the first time in a while, Draco wondered if Potter was saying anything, not that it was important. His concentration was elsewhere.
Draco pulled back slightly, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and smirking in a way he wouldn't have believed himself able to, on his knees in front of Harry-fucking-Potter.
"You okay?" he croaked, regaining the use of his throat as he gulped for air. He'd meant that as a taunt, but in the end he'd just said it like he meant it. He was too distracted to even care anymore and Potter wouldn't notice anyway.
Potter hadn't answered, and that was just how Draco wanted it.
::
The first time Draco felt free was when he realized Harry Potter was screaming as he came down his throat.
His own eyes had rolled back and all that kept him from coming in desperate bursts on Potter's dirty shoes was a certain lack of coordination. He'd needed the use of his hand to cling to Potter's bony hips. He'd needed to concentrate on reducing Potter to a splat of blood and spit on the floor at Draco's feet.
Nearly the whole of Draco's existence had narrowed down to the continuing assault of sensation; to that thick, heavy cock being shoved against the back of his throat, sliding effortlessly past his teeth and smoothing down his tongue. If he'd been thinking about something which was outside the confines of his mouth at some earlier point, that was then. Now, it's all he could do to remain conscious. He was pretty certain that someone was making enough noise to shake their soul loose, and it wasn't only Potter.
Nothing had prepared him for this.
Not for the distant knowledge that Potter's wand had spilled from slackened fingers, clattering to the ground; not for the fact that this wasn't enough to tear Draco's mouth from Potter's cock.
Gasping and swallowing his own spit compulsively, some part of Draco was still aware that somehow, things had managed to shift when he wasn't looking. This was it. This was his moment, the one he'd been waiting for.
And yet, Draco wasn't waiting anymore.
His fingers clenched roughly as Draco came so hard, his mind was wiped clean entirely. There was only this and only now, to fuck with everything.
No matter what it all meant, he wanted more.
At the precise moment he came, jerking against Potter's skinny legs as if struck by bolts of miniature lightning, Draco's eyes squeezed tighter than they'd ever had before, and he saw the perfect blue.
::
Afterwards, Draco thought he could feel the moon come out, casting bright shadows on his back. He felt too tired and fuzzy with dreams to have a problem with the world, which might have been over for all he knew. He supposed Potter was asleep, his head lying heavy on Draco's ribcage, his eyelashes unmoving against bare skin. Potter's heartbeat was all that remained in the silence, and Draco wasn't sure if he was awake himself, which was fine by him.
"I think I have it," Potter muttered thickly against his chest, and for a moment Draco had absolutely no idea what the hell the bloody wanker was on about.
"What?" It was meant to come out sharply, but in the end he just whispered it against Potter's hair. Sleepily, he thought that was really fucking annoying.
"What I want," Potter said simply.
Draco had no answer to that he was prepared to give, and he was too tired to properly insult anyone, even Potter.
"Bloody well shut up, will you?"
Potter sort of laughed weakly. It was ticklish, and Draco squirmed, snorting a bit. He had to admit Potter was warm, though they'd have to get up any minute now.
Draco closed his eyes, paying no attention to the distant sound of wings in the gathering dark.
~~
Hello, my name is Reena. I write gay porn instead of doing homework. *curtsies*
On an unrelated note, if you've friended/defriended me within the last week, I don't know now and possibly will never know unless a) you tell me or b) I'm randomly checking out your journal and go, "wow, I can/can't see friends-locked entries! neat-oh/wah!" ...Well, you know. Cutting back on fandom. Fandom, what?? Ha. *coughs*
This is for
spare_change, because she makes me remember to stop and breathe, and my Snape/Draco might really take awhile. Much (porny) <3 (and angsty blow-jobs).Disclaimer: not mine.
Author's Note: Written to Chad Kroeger's "Hero", on repeat. Not exactly recommended when you're half asleep.
Dedication: To Slytherlynx, with heartfelt appreciation for her amazing sanity. Here's some angsty blow-job fic for you, eheheheheh. Back to basics, man.
And they say that a hero can save us
I'm not gonna stand here and wait
I'll hold onto the wings of the eagles
Watch as they all fly away
--Chad Kroeger
- The Sound of Wings -
The only time Draco Malfoy pondered the meaning of existence had been the first time he had Potter's cock in his mouth.
Most of his mind had been occupied with disintegrating into formless screams, but some part of him flew free, feeling magnanimous. Potter might have Draco on his knees, because this-- this felt like victory. This felt like capturing some unnamable vastness and holding it still as it beat within his mouth. Some part of Draco's mind was quiet and satisfied; who knew these things could be so simple?
Potter hadn't even struggled that much. Potter hadn't struggled at all.
He was salivating so much he might've choked on his own spit, and his head spun so much he had to hold on to Potter's hips not to sway sideways.
Draco wasn't on his knees for long.
He could feel the sweat creeping into the folds in his eyelids, the hair sticking to his temples, the backs of his thighs cramping with strain. He couldn't breathe enough, couldn't get enough, couldn't even feel his toes. His left leg had fallen asleep some minutes or hours ago, and there was a roaring in his ears. Potter could have been screaming for him to stop, and Draco wouldn't have known; that was how he liked it.
::
The first time Draco Malfoy sucked another boy's cock, it was the evening after the first battle.
The blood still swam behind his eyes when he closed them, and all he could hear anymore were the screams of his friends-- his Housemates-- everyone he'd known better than to trust. He'd barely been able to see Potter walking towards him through the same fog of rage and futility that had kept him alive; kept him from moving.
It had been dawn, and the sky was the perfect blue Draco never remembered having noticed before. Had the sky ever been that blue over Malfoy Manor? Had his father ever noticed? What would his father say if Draco had asked him, back then? Draco didn't want to think of it.
The wind was cold, cold enough to slip beneath his skin, and down his bones, and between his ribs.
Draco had stood still and watched as Parkinson and the others said their parts and cast their curses. They'd all been well-trained. This should go off without a hitch, shouldn't it?
He'd watched and waited for his moment, because there was going to be only one, and Draco knew better than to miss it. He'd leaned against the tallest tree within speaking distance and waited, watching the blue of the morning sky slowly darken. Perhaps it was only this blue on days like this, or perhaps it was something about the Forbidden Forest. Draco knew there must be thestrals and centaurs and all sorts of Dark Creatures nearby, unknown and invisible to him, all of them waiting for their moment along with Draco. Some of them were undoubtedly waiting for Draco, and that thought kept his back straight and his skin prickly with apprehension more than any of the foul curses flying back and forth directly in front of him.
It was a good day to get what he wanted, he thought, watching as just another black-clad form strode purposefully across the field. None of the curses or spells seemed to hit him, but Draco hadn't needed that to know who he was. He'd known because of how everyone had stopped and looked, the way even the wind grew still for a moment, then suddenly turned violent. Somewhere at the other end of the clearing, there was a high, brittle laugh.
Draco had known, but he didn't look. He'd cocked his head and looked up at the sky instead, seeing a formation of dark shapes flying past him and disappearing beyond the treetops.
::
When Draco Malfoy weighted Potter's cock on his tongue, he had a fleeting memory of those birds as they moved swiftly forward, vanishing. He hadn't been looking when the first blood was spilled; not really. He had been waiting, and that was a different sort of thing altogether. There was nothing to see until his time had finally come.
The night before, he'd thought about it for the first time: actually losing. Everything being over. Draco didn't think he would die-- didn't think he could die, really-- but the world as he knew it could end, he was forced to admit that. It could be over for them. Everything could stop, just like that, under a sky that favored those with dirty blood and garish colors and pointless, stupid courage.
Maybe Potter would die, too. Maybe there would be an explosion of white light, something huge and blinding, something Draco would forget because remembering was out of the question. He'd read about that in books, and though he'd remained skeptical, some part of him was tight with wordless dread. The year the war had started in earnest, Draco had woken up and realized he was living out his nightmares and there was no end in sight.
He was alone and nothing helped for quite long enough. Nothing. The Gryffindors and the Mudbloods were pale and drawn and twitchy as hell, but that didn't amuse him as much as he'd expected. Worse yet, they ignored him.
And the worst part of all was, Potter was still The Boy Who Lived. He was going to live and Draco was going to die, and it wasn't fair, but--
--Draco didn't think so.
He thought Potter would crumple in a heap, wasting away to a pile of dust before his eyes. Potter would look at him then, one last look, and he'd be sorry, but it would be too late. It had been too late from the start, for Potter and his sort.
He'd raised his eyes to the sky because he'd already known what he was going to see. Potter would be bright, maybe brilliant. Maybe he'd be blinding. Potter would be something far away from him, something like a sun; nothing like a sun. And Draco would hate him so much he'd be frozen with it. And then Potter would rise onto the battlefield and Draco would stand and wait for the moment to pass.
::
When Draco had found him, Potter looked half-dead. Draco's job was nearly done for him: Potter was covered in blood and dirt and sadness, and his eyes were so empty, Draco could see himself in them. It was the way he was swaying on his feet; the way he mouthed Draco's name; the way he'd nodded at the wand dangling limply from Draco's own hand. They each told him everything he'd wanted to know. Ever the hero: has to give the old school irritant another go, does he. For old times' sake. Wrap things up nicely.
"Well, well," he drawled, stepping slowly forward. Potter's face held no expression, and some part of Draco flared to life, seeing that. He wanted something which was at the tip of his tongue. Perhaps it was just to make Potter bleed, and perhaps it was to wipe the blood off that mouth before he spoke to him. It made Potter look defeated, which was all wrong because it was a lie, and that wasn't good enough now. "If it isn't The Boy Who Wouldn't Die."
"Don't you have somewhere else to be, Malfoy? Or someone else to be there with? A Dark Lord to service, maybe?"
Potter sounded tired more than anything, and this was no fun at all anymore. Draco knew when to switch tactics.
"So tell me one last thing, then," Draco said with his dry mouth, fist curling around his wand. This was his moment, and he was going to play it to the hilt.
Potter had tilted his head sideways, watching him. Draco licked his lips.
"Are you a hero, Potter?"
It had startled Draco to hear Potter croak like that. He supposed that was meant to be a laugh. Draco wondered where everyone was and why in the bloody hell he'd thought it was such a great idea not to look.
"You know the answer to that, Malfoy. Ask a better question, come on."
Draco took a breath. "What do you want?" He felt pretty stupid, asking that, and he had no idea where it came from, but he didn't have time to think. It seemed to be working, anyway.
Potter's jaw tightened, but he didn't look away. They watched each other, and Draco noticed Potter's chest lifting and falling, lifting and falling. Something about that movement would've been calming, in another situation entirely, if they'd both been completely different; if Draco was someone who was allowed to notice the flat expanse of the other's chest.
Quite incidentally, he'd looked up at the sky above them just then, and the sun had hidden behind a cloud. All he could see was a pale bluish-grey. Draco hated the cold, fickle British spring with a passion he'd usually reserved for losing and Potter.
"Today to be over," Potter said at last.
"And...?"
"And-- love, I suppose."
Draco coughed dryly, his chest constricting. There was something obscene about hearing that word spoken between them in any context; possibly simply that word having any relation to Potter.
"You'll never have it, Potter," he said. His hands were cold, curled into loose fists in his pockets. These were good trousers. Draco could remember that particular shopping trip that last summer very well. His father had told him they'd fit, and they did.
"You think so?" Potter didn't sound defensive, just mildly curious, sod him. Nothing he could say mattered now-- none of it had ever mattered, had it. Draco bit his lip, weighting his options.
"I know so," Draco snarled, shoving him. Potter looked startled, but Draco wasn't watching for a reaction. There was a rushing in his ears, and suddenly, he felt a surge of pure raw power.
Draco latched on to the juncture of Potter's neck and shoulder with his teeth, still not biting as hard as he knew Potter wanted him to. There was a slick cascade of epiphany glazing his mind, making Draco almost dizzy with sheer exhilaration. And now he knew that most of the blood hadn't been Potter's: the skin was smooth and unbroken and only slightly tinged with metal and smoke and curses. It was a good taste; Draco also knew he could get used to it, so he pulled away.
And then Potter's hands were in Draco's hair, holding him tight, pulling hard and making his eyes smart with tears in reflex. He'd pushed Draco down onto his knees before he'd been ready, insistent and unbelievably strong. Unstoppable. Potter was panting so hard his legs shook-- or maybe that was Draco.
Draco choked on a breath. This wasn't how it was supposed to go.
"No fucking way," Draco hissed, right before he'd started to mouth the dirty fabric of Potter's trousers, lapping up the filthy taste and smell and texture like he'd never have enough.
Potter only gasped and thrust his hips sharply forward, and the rushing sound in Draco's ears just got louder. His lips were curling around the shape of Potter's cock through his trousers, moving up and slowly descending, as if Draco thought to learn everything Potter wouldn't want him to know. The cock kept pulsing, beating with life even through the extra layer between their skin, and suddenly Draco couldn't get enough. It wasn't Potter, somehow. It was the most powerful feeling Draco could remember, and he wasn't going to let go until the ride was done. This couldn't be Potter; this was just skin and a heartbeat and blood, all this blood, rushing and beating and impossible to stop.
The first time Potter came that night, the wetness spread sluggishly, soaking through the dirt-crusted jeans. He'd curled inwards as much as he could, bent over Draco, with his hands digging into the other's shoulders. For the first time in a while, Draco wondered if Potter was saying anything, not that it was important. His concentration was elsewhere.
Draco pulled back slightly, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and smirking in a way he wouldn't have believed himself able to, on his knees in front of Harry-fucking-Potter.
"You okay?" he croaked, regaining the use of his throat as he gulped for air. He'd meant that as a taunt, but in the end he'd just said it like he meant it. He was too distracted to even care anymore and Potter wouldn't notice anyway.
Potter hadn't answered, and that was just how Draco wanted it.
::
The first time Draco felt free was when he realized Harry Potter was screaming as he came down his throat.
His own eyes had rolled back and all that kept him from coming in desperate bursts on Potter's dirty shoes was a certain lack of coordination. He'd needed the use of his hand to cling to Potter's bony hips. He'd needed to concentrate on reducing Potter to a splat of blood and spit on the floor at Draco's feet.
Nearly the whole of Draco's existence had narrowed down to the continuing assault of sensation; to that thick, heavy cock being shoved against the back of his throat, sliding effortlessly past his teeth and smoothing down his tongue. If he'd been thinking about something which was outside the confines of his mouth at some earlier point, that was then. Now, it's all he could do to remain conscious. He was pretty certain that someone was making enough noise to shake their soul loose, and it wasn't only Potter.
Nothing had prepared him for this.
Not for the distant knowledge that Potter's wand had spilled from slackened fingers, clattering to the ground; not for the fact that this wasn't enough to tear Draco's mouth from Potter's cock.
Gasping and swallowing his own spit compulsively, some part of Draco was still aware that somehow, things had managed to shift when he wasn't looking. This was it. This was his moment, the one he'd been waiting for.
And yet, Draco wasn't waiting anymore.
His fingers clenched roughly as Draco came so hard, his mind was wiped clean entirely. There was only this and only now, to fuck with everything.
No matter what it all meant, he wanted more.
At the precise moment he came, jerking against Potter's skinny legs as if struck by bolts of miniature lightning, Draco's eyes squeezed tighter than they'd ever had before, and he saw the perfect blue.
::
Afterwards, Draco thought he could feel the moon come out, casting bright shadows on his back. He felt too tired and fuzzy with dreams to have a problem with the world, which might have been over for all he knew. He supposed Potter was asleep, his head lying heavy on Draco's ribcage, his eyelashes unmoving against bare skin. Potter's heartbeat was all that remained in the silence, and Draco wasn't sure if he was awake himself, which was fine by him.
"I think I have it," Potter muttered thickly against his chest, and for a moment Draco had absolutely no idea what the hell the bloody wanker was on about.
"What?" It was meant to come out sharply, but in the end he just whispered it against Potter's hair. Sleepily, he thought that was really fucking annoying.
"What I want," Potter said simply.
Draco had no answer to that he was prepared to give, and he was too tired to properly insult anyone, even Potter.
"Bloody well shut up, will you?"
Potter sort of laughed weakly. It was ticklish, and Draco squirmed, snorting a bit. He had to admit Potter was warm, though they'd have to get up any minute now.
Draco closed his eyes, paying no attention to the distant sound of wings in the gathering dark.
~~
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2003-12-05 06:00 pm (UTC)I have no idea if that made any sense at all.
In any case, I enjoyed this greatly, and will probably be reading it several more times before I can let it go for the night. There is so much to find in this. Thank you.
no subject
Date: 2003-12-06 03:39 pm (UTC)So yes, perfect sense, thankyou. *happy sigh*
And meep. I know I never feedbacked your last story, but it was beautiful & it still resonates in my mind, even if I can't quite pin down what I want to say about it even now. It's hard to find an adequate response to stories that approach the subject of the sublime without losing a lot in the process of descent from the symbolism ~:)
no subject
Date: 2003-12-06 05:02 pm (UTC)Also? I'm really glad my feedback made sense. :)
(ps: I just saw your note at the top of this entry... I actually did friend you within the last week- and thank heavens or I might have missed this fic!- so I'll mention it. I'm a very no-pressure about it, though. I have a reading list... you're now on it... it matters not to me whether I end up on yours. I found myself checking your journal out often enough that it made sense. So. Yeah.)
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Date: 2003-12-05 06:43 pm (UTC)I love how Draco keeps wanting to say things harshly but it keeps coming out wrong and real. I love how Harry is so fucking forceful and straight-faced and still strong even after things.
Hahah obviously I seriously love this because I actually had something to say for once instead of just going <333333! Which I will still do, because, omg <3333333333.
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Date: 2003-12-06 03:43 pm (UTC)*beams* I didn't even notice that. When you said that about Draco I went back and looked and was like, omg, you're -right-, ehehehe I didn't notice!! I s'pose Draco's sneaky like that. And also, I was so asleep when I wrote that ^^;
Anyway, yeah, it was either trick them into saying something realer or descend into snark, the old stand-by. Anytime I write them, they want to just snark and snark and snark. More than fuck, even. It's dispiriting :>
My Harry muse (if I have such a thing) was all grumpy at being forced into a warfic. He was all GET ME OUT OF HERE, WOMAN!! >:O (Notice my clever authorial device of not actually telling you what happened in the war, ehehehe, that's 'cause I can't -do- warfics. *coughs*)
Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee sohappyyoulikedyouhavenoidea :D :D :D
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Date: 2003-12-05 06:44 pm (UTC)I love this, and I want to write more, but I've been really ill (which is why I didn't return your last msgs yesterday -- but I'm very happy that the approach I suggested worked for you!). But I wanted to tell you that I read this and I loved it and I appreciated it SO MUCH, and I will give you better fb as soon as I'm not so icky.
This is really, really lovely. <333333333333
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Date: 2003-12-06 03:45 pm (UTC)Am so happy you enjoyed it!! 'Cause after I went to bed, I was like, omg, it's all over-the-top and angsty-romancy-flowery isn't it, ohgod I dedicated fic bursting with metaphors & overt symbolism to her, woe!
Heee. *coughs* Didn't mean to point that out if you didn't notice ;))
<333333333333 :D
>:)
Date: 2003-12-05 07:43 pm (UTC)Favourite part was the first, the whole bit before the first square dotty things. Victory down on one's knees is the sweetest kind, I've always thought. I love that idea. I like the structure too, how you could just jump from that first section to the last section and still have a feeling of the whole fic (though it's nice to have that feeling drawn out and solidified with the middle portions). Now, I shall be lazy and quote.
Loved that part. It grounds the rest of it in more in Draco's reality, and gives the fic a nice place to rise up from. And shit. :P Sorry, I suck at reviewing coherently.
Also love Harry's first wish. And I liked how casually things went on from there between them, or at least from Harry's side. I love it when Harry's so easily in control and Draco has to try so fucking hard to maintain any sort of control at all. Yep. Nice fic. :)
And just to be annoying... Eww, that's so gross!!! :P
Re: >:)
Date: 2003-12-06 03:58 pm (UTC)um.... but yeah. thankees! :D :D :D Eeeee! You so rarely comment on my fics & now I feel all happy 'cause this one must've been special~:)
I've been playing around with temporal structure a lot lately, 'cause it's just more fun than linear stories. And they seem to take care of themselves, too-- like, somehow assume a structure of some sort on their own. It's... like they're -alive-. Or not, you know.
It's funny 'cause both I never -plan- or intend H&D to interact any particular way at all. They always surprise me with their antics. So when you're like "so easily in control" I had to go back and check. And then I'm like, wow, he really is kinda the big-bad-tough-guy in this fic, isn't he. I don't think I can imagine Draco ever getting one up on Harry, really. It's sad~:))
But I'm all pleased to have er... squicked/pleased/made you think about H/D in a positive manner, ahahahah >:D
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Date: 2003-12-05 08:30 pm (UTC)Ramblerambleramble :D!!!!!
Yes.
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Date: 2003-12-06 04:03 pm (UTC)Anyway, thankyouuuuuu. <3ramblyfeedback<3 :D
(And yeah I'm entirely obsessed with shades of blue lately, soglad you appreciated, eheheh.)
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Date: 2003-12-05 08:58 pm (UTC)Especially enjoyed your post about the masturbation habits of adolescent males. Lovely links.
And this story in particular was nice. (Okay, not "nice," but tense.) I'm so far in to Harry/Draco that I shall never recover. Those crazy kids. I'm a hopeless romantic at heart.
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Date: 2003-12-06 04:26 pm (UTC)I'll take nice -or- tense, especially if it's at the same time, as in nice-and-tense. Or something. 'Cause that's H/D in my head.
I envy you all the tons of H/D fic that's out there for you to read, if you're just starting. Oh man, I've been here too long, but yeah. Glad you liked my fic, and um. Hi. I guess it's not that hard to tell that I'm pretty much a hopeless romantic also. :D
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Date: 2003-12-05 10:29 pm (UTC)This was hot, thoughtful, and I can't believe all that - technically - happened was oral sex...it seems like there was so much more (sex/emotion/history/passion/future,etc.) ...
The way that some of it was very train of thought and some very grounded in reality really kept me on edge while reading it...
Overall, good job, as usual.
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Date: 2003-12-06 04:46 pm (UTC)Setting out to write this, I wanted to prove that you can write an NC17 fic and have it work on multiple levels, as a serious story (for those who want to read gen or PG13, for instance) and as fan-service, heh. The rest is just kinda free-association, I guess. I'm really glad all the dissonant ingredients came together for you... I can't seem to limit myself very easily when I write semi-seriously about them (and thus I don't finish most of my more sincere fics). Glad you liked~:)
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Date: 2003-12-06 08:34 am (UTC)Would write more but barely made it through the fic...just wanted to tell you I loved it!
Thanks!!!
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Date: 2003-12-06 04:49 pm (UTC)*beams* I didn't think you'd want to read H/D, and am so flattered you did even though you're ill & that it worked for you. meep. Though hopefully H/D porn could only help you get better~:))
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Date: 2003-12-07 08:23 pm (UTC)So here I am. This was absolutely gorgeous. A dream to read and perfectly concluded.
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Date: 2003-12-07 10:08 pm (UTC)am slightly recovering from this being described as "existential porn". I mean, maybe it is, but I've changed my mind about wanting it to be seen as porn, exactly. So fickle.
But yes, eeeeeeeeeeeeeethankyou~:)
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Date: 2003-12-09 09:54 pm (UTC)Also, Harry? Is a sap. Which is weird, but I can get behind it. I like the way you structured this, anyway. Again, like with all your fics, I have no sort of mental picture beyond cocksucking boys and a wall, and I can't even get a clear image of the wall. But I think that's just your style, or possibly just my density.
I really like the dialogue, anyway. Your porn is so very not-porn-like, which is to say I tend to come away from it going "that was a story" rather "omg hot porn do it again do it again." And if you ever again quote a song I hate with such fierceness I might have to revoke all your privileges. What privileges, I don't know, but I'll find them, and revoke them. >:-o
See this is why I can't review your stuff, I always end up being like "omg. wtf? lol. eh? stfu." I will continue to lump you in with that subset of writers (i.e. everyone you like except me) that writes things I don't generally get (i.e. intellislash) until you submit and write me full on snarky porn without some squint-inducing plot. Just try it. I dare you.
what do you mean I just want you to write me more porn SHUT UP.*cough* Kittens.no subject
Date: 2003-12-09 10:18 pm (UTC)So yeay :D :D This is exactly what I wanted to hear~:)) *bounces* I promise I don't always write this way anymore (I'm guessing you haven't been reading as frequently as before, eheheh, so that's why I'm telling you). This was a mood thing. I did write more typical pron, here (http://www.livejournal.com/users/reenka/135040.html#cutid2), and much less weirdness in general-- more with the realism. Like my Men without Pants challenge (http://www.livejournal.com/users/reenka/144807.html) fic & the sillyfic (http://www.livejournal.com/users/reenka/128645.html) and the lip-porn (http://www.livejournal.com/users/reenka/135325.html) & Ron/Ginny (http://www.livejournal.com/users/reenka/138195.html). (What I mean is, I'm pretty sure you'd like all of these more, except possibly the R/G).
I was quite, quite surprised when
And thank you for telling me that about the sap, 'cause duuuude, that was just a cop-out on my part. *beams* I will so force you into beta'ing or at least looking at my less nonsensical fics :D :D *sigh* You are way more helpful than you realize, you have no idea. No one else really con-critted me in any way, shape or form and omg do I thrive on con-crit, otherwise, you know, my head floats away like a balloon.
You're just so... sane. I really appreciate that in a person. You have no idea. 'Cause yeah! There wasn't enough physical description! And yeah! -I- knew they were still in the Forbidden Forest after the battle, but who else did? No one!
This was just a lazy little scribble, man. I was trying to write porn-that-wasn't-porn here, because
Which is to say, kittens, indeed :D :D
<3!!
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Date: 2003-12-10 02:34 am (UTC)awmph. i don't know that i can ever say anything about your fics, because they just suck all the words out of me and i am left kind of burbling around with very little coherent anythings to say. which probably explains why i haven't commented till now (discovered you. . . sometime over summer, i believe?)
it just. . . i love how you say things WITHOUT saying them. and i know a lot of writers do this, but i mean. . . like the whole draco wanting to sound nasty and insult harry, but being too tired to, or putting the wrong inflection in his voice--things like that. i obviously am getting very technical here. there's more, but as you can see, my less than stellar communication skills are shot to hell. anyway.
i think i will press the 'friends' button now (you are not obligated to return favor) and give you &heart; as words have left me.
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Date: 2003-12-10 02:36 am (UTC)♥
there.
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Date: 2003-12-10 10:49 am (UTC)It's too easy for me to escape definition sometimes, and usually I want to finally make concrete -sense- for once (but that's harder so it takes forever), but I think I can't help but come back to the dreaming & incoherency myself (which is where this fic came from, it being something like 3am at time of writing, heh.)
so hi~:)
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Date: 2003-12-19 10:03 pm (UTC)let me try againsy. this was wonderful and hot and nummy and wonderful redux. the feel and tone, i think, is what will stick with me later (though the sex was rather grand, wasn't it?).
love it. may friend ye? ::toddles off to friend::
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Date: 2003-12-19 11:28 pm (UTC)Am always happy to be friended :> Isn't everyone? hee
Yay
Date: 2003-12-20 05:58 pm (UTC)Re: Yay
Date: 2003-12-20 08:14 pm (UTC)Glad you liked :D
oh dear
Date: 2003-12-20 09:13 pm (UTC)that was lovely, it was! It's amazing how you made Draco still have a degree of... control, I suppose, over Harry, even though he's the one going down. Well, not control, just... just... aaack, I can't even think of it, your fic has got me that jumbled! I love it!
You make me go SQUEE.
Re: oh dear
Date: 2003-12-20 10:06 pm (UTC)Am v. pleased it had such an effect on you! ^^
~reena
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Date: 2004-01-05 11:10 am (UTC)I mean, this fic is so deep, there are so many inner meanings and symbolism and just beautiful things in it, I can't find them all. But the fact that there is more than what is on the surface, and that Draco sees it, even through the haze and the war and all, is amazing, and wonderful to read about.
This was nice and hot and sexy, but it was also...thought provoking. I have the feeling when I re-read I will find more things in it, more meaningful, inspiring, and deep things.
I like how Draco had a purpose, and how he spited Harry for being the Boy Who Lived, always living, and that this was in the back of his mind, but that he was so caught up in Harry that it just didn't matter anymore. That was interesting. And victory on the knees was...I can't find the word. It made sense, but in other fics, it wouldn't. The way you wrote it thought, reenka, it worked. And it was good, because Draco had victory, even on his knees, and he is the type who would want to win, isn't he? But then Harry also got what he want. And at the end, they were still seperate, still on the same side, but they got what they wanted, and all that other stuff didn't matter, because they had each other.
You described everything in such DETAIL, I loved it! All the smells, the sights, the crusted blood, the texture of clothing. Draco noticed all these things, it was like, he was more aware of it all, and thus describing such things mattered, and you described them all so well. And I love how Harry was so strong, so unbreakable, even after all he had gone through. How he could bother Draco, make Draco have no witty retorts, even though it didn't matter so much anymore.
I like also how this was a warfic and the war added to the emotions and such, but it wasn't all about fighting, it was about more than that, more than being on opposite sides. This fic is just...about so much. There are so many things to says and speaks of.
Lovely. Can't compliment your writing enough, reenka. I will definitely read this again.
--The Ultimate Otaku (the_ultimate_otaku@yahoo.com)
There was a link to this fic at Switchknife's slash H/D page, just in case you might want to know.
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Date: 2004-11-21 12:36 am (UTC)Oh....oh. Just so....beautiful! Even the hotness of everything is beautiful.
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Date: 2005-07-19 12:29 pm (UTC)Oh, oh my. *speechless* Well, almost. xD So, so vivid, and breathtaking, and simply fantastic...
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Date: 2006-01-07 08:38 pm (UTC)