Ficlet: Break the Skin, Shameless series (H/D, R, 2 of 2)
Um. So this is my messed-up idea of fixing things for Draco after my last drabble, which means it's a sequel, I guess. I just realized that he's Draco Malfoy, and he wouldn't stand for that sort of abuse, right? Right.
So I listened to Ani DiFranco some more. Bad idea -.-
Disclaimer: not mine.
A/N: Sequel to `Untouchable'. This is what happens when you listen to too much Ani DiFranco, man. Beware.
- Break the Skin -
You think Draco Malfoy is sucking you off to prove a point, and you're letting him.
You watch his hands rip at your trousers, sticky hair in his eyes. You gasp, and your cock is in his mouth. His breath is heavy hot around you, and when his teeth graze your cock, your mind whites. Fists clench tighter in fine blond hair, and you nearly rip it. "Fuck!" You twitch. "Fuck, fuck, fuck--" Hips buck and you yell, staring into nothing as your head knocks back.
"Well?" Eyes slightly red, hair disheveled.
You smile slightly. "You could do that again." Mind oddly blank. "If you want."
His mouth twists. "Forget it." He stands up to face you. "I don't want your bloody pity, Potter."
You blink, your pants still around your knees when the door shuts.
--
"We have to talk." A week later. "Er, I think there's some unfinished business, and--"
"Are you -blushing-, Potter?!" He smirks as you bristle. "Eh, whatever. There's nothing to talk about."
"W-what?"
"You've made that clear enough yourself. Can't you even take a favor?"
"I'm sorry-- I mean, I used you, and--"
"Oh, spare me your precious virgin angst, Potty." He starts for a second, then cocks an eyebrow. "Want to stick it in, is that it? Managed to make the Golden Boy's prick itch, eh?"
"God, shut up!" The blush worsens. "Forgive me if I thought you were worth some common courtesy for a second! You haven't changed, what was I--"
"Do you honestly think everyone cares about your little problems?!" He sneers. "Don't you worry about me, Potty, I'll live." He turns, posture stiff. "And watch your own back, twatface!"
You rub your temples, tired again. "Wait-- Malfoy! Don't be stupid!"
"Don't fucking bother, Pothead."
--
You watch him in Potions, biting your lip. He'd stayed after class with Snape again, whispering.
"What's wrong, Harry?" Hermione follows your gaze. "Oh, it's only--"
"Malfoy, yeah I know."
"Then what's wrong...?"
"Nothing," you mutter. "Git. I don't trust him," you say sullenly.
"And you shouldn't, but I thought you were done paying attention to his antics, Harry." Disapproving.
"I just thought he-- never mind. I was wrong anyway."
Your skin prickles as he walks past you, tight-lipped and furious. Ron is asking you why you're in such a hurry. "So what?" you snap.
--
You push him up against a wall, wrists trapped in your fist. "So. Talk."
"F-freak." His teeth are bared. "Always have to have it your way, don't you--"
Your hips swivel harshly, but there's no noise except a gasp. "Something-- ahh-- to say, Malfoy--?"
His breath hitches even as he glares. "You can't even take your own fucking advice, Potter." Sneers.
Your hips push harder, till you both hiss. "No. How 'bout you?" Panting. Your grip tightens, and he winces. Oh, and he's flushing. "That's it," you hiss.
"You've lost it," he says, sounding pleased.
The spectacles are slipping sticky wet as you tug his wrist towards your mouth. "So have you." And you lick it where it hurts, watching him twitch.
"No!" he yells, pushing up against you, and you push back with a little sigh. "No! Let go!" He whimpers, almost like a sob, and your fists loosen.
"I told you!" He twists away, takes a few steps backwards as you stare. "You have to pay! I -told- you--"
You both stare in silence for a bit, heart pounding. "I know," you whisper to his back. "I heard you."
--
You'd followed him under the Cloak again that night. He's not taking the usual route, so you hurry to catch up. The moon is full outside, and finally you stop near the Forest. Your stomach churns as the whole world spins. He'd stopped too, starting to peel his robes off.
"Malfoy!" Breathless.
His face is pale and quiet in moonlight, and his hands shake as he clutches an odd-shaped object to his chest. "You're running away, aren't you." It's not a question.
"God, go away, Potter! What are you--" he backs away, then freezes. "You can't be here! You're out after hours," he whispers, voice shaking. "If you-- I can report this!"
"Shouldn't you be thinking about yourself first? Or are you out for another midnight stroll?"
A pause. "Look, do you want something? I don't have enough time for a blow, if that's what you're after, so--"
"I never meant to--" You stop, stealing glances at the bruises on his wrist. "This is stupid, even you must know that."
"So what," he hisses. "I don't have the time for reminiscing, so if you'll excuse me, I have some business to take care of." He runs a hand through his hair, renewing his grip on the strange object. "Which doesn't concern you, believe it or not."
When he walks away, you keep pace, looking both ways. Nothing moves. "Malfoy...." Hagrid's hut is now behind you. "I know what you're doing, and I'm not exactly surprised, but you should really think--"
"You know nothing!" he screams, and you nearly run smack into his back. "You think I'm going to hang around when you--" He flushes. "Forget it, Potter. It's none of your business. Go back to saving Mudblood kittens or whatever it is you're so good at."
"Listen, Malfoy. I can't just -quit-, you have to understand--"
"No, I don't, and I won't! Don't you get it? I'm sick of listening to your sodding voice and seeing your ugly stupid face each day, that's the fucking point!"
"Are you having a tantrum again?"
"So what are you gonna do? Going to laugh at me, Scarface? Go ahead, I don't give a shit!"
"I'm not going to laugh," you say quietly.
"You seemed all too keen on ignoring me before! What the hell, are you some kind of puppy?! One little lick to the balls and you're-- oomph!"
You knock him to the ground with a grunt. His mouth hangs open, and he's sweating. "You're asking for it, aren't you?" Your eyes roll back as he struggles. "You always have been, M-malfoy--"
"Get off--! Potter! Bloody hell, are you mad? This is the fucking-- Forest, you-- nnngh!"
"Yessss...."
Eyes won't shut: he's beneath you, and your fingers are in his mouth. Eyes wide and forehead pale white, but he sucks hard.
"Mmphh--!"
"What?"
"They're-- they're coming for me," he pants. "They can't-- they'll find me...." He looks away and shivers. "You ruined it all again, you arsehole!" Heatedly.
You scramble upright and offer him a hand after scooping up the Cloak. "I can help you," you say clearly. "It's what I'm good at. Well, the times I don't end up messing everything up."
His eyes don't leave you as he knocks your hand away and stands. "Try again, Potty," and you grab his wrist where the bruises are.
"Maybe later--" And you start to run.
Once you're past the main entrance, and his hands are on his knees, he stammers. "Don't-- don't tell them-- please...."
"Don't worry," you say, "I'm a Gryffindor."
--
"Hey Malfoy! The Death Eaters been good to you this week?"
He stares with bloodshot eyes, fists clenched, but doesn't answer.
"What's gotten into you lately, Harry? Are you all right?"
You look to your side, where your friends are. "Nothing. It's just Malfoy."
So I listened to Ani DiFranco some more. Bad idea -.-
Disclaimer: not mine.
A/N: Sequel to `Untouchable'. This is what happens when you listen to too much Ani DiFranco, man. Beware.
- Break the Skin -
You think Draco Malfoy is sucking you off to prove a point, and you're letting him.
You watch his hands rip at your trousers, sticky hair in his eyes. You gasp, and your cock is in his mouth. His breath is heavy hot around you, and when his teeth graze your cock, your mind whites. Fists clench tighter in fine blond hair, and you nearly rip it. "Fuck!" You twitch. "Fuck, fuck, fuck--" Hips buck and you yell, staring into nothing as your head knocks back.
"Well?" Eyes slightly red, hair disheveled.
You smile slightly. "You could do that again." Mind oddly blank. "If you want."
His mouth twists. "Forget it." He stands up to face you. "I don't want your bloody pity, Potter."
You blink, your pants still around your knees when the door shuts.
--
"We have to talk." A week later. "Er, I think there's some unfinished business, and--"
"Are you -blushing-, Potter?!" He smirks as you bristle. "Eh, whatever. There's nothing to talk about."
"W-what?"
"You've made that clear enough yourself. Can't you even take a favor?"
"I'm sorry-- I mean, I used you, and--"
"Oh, spare me your precious virgin angst, Potty." He starts for a second, then cocks an eyebrow. "Want to stick it in, is that it? Managed to make the Golden Boy's prick itch, eh?"
"God, shut up!" The blush worsens. "Forgive me if I thought you were worth some common courtesy for a second! You haven't changed, what was I--"
"Do you honestly think everyone cares about your little problems?!" He sneers. "Don't you worry about me, Potty, I'll live." He turns, posture stiff. "And watch your own back, twatface!"
You rub your temples, tired again. "Wait-- Malfoy! Don't be stupid!"
"Don't fucking bother, Pothead."
--
You watch him in Potions, biting your lip. He'd stayed after class with Snape again, whispering.
"What's wrong, Harry?" Hermione follows your gaze. "Oh, it's only--"
"Malfoy, yeah I know."
"Then what's wrong...?"
"Nothing," you mutter. "Git. I don't trust him," you say sullenly.
"And you shouldn't, but I thought you were done paying attention to his antics, Harry." Disapproving.
"I just thought he-- never mind. I was wrong anyway."
Your skin prickles as he walks past you, tight-lipped and furious. Ron is asking you why you're in such a hurry. "So what?" you snap.
--
You push him up against a wall, wrists trapped in your fist. "So. Talk."
"F-freak." His teeth are bared. "Always have to have it your way, don't you--"
Your hips swivel harshly, but there's no noise except a gasp. "Something-- ahh-- to say, Malfoy--?"
His breath hitches even as he glares. "You can't even take your own fucking advice, Potter." Sneers.
Your hips push harder, till you both hiss. "No. How 'bout you?" Panting. Your grip tightens, and he winces. Oh, and he's flushing. "That's it," you hiss.
"You've lost it," he says, sounding pleased.
The spectacles are slipping sticky wet as you tug his wrist towards your mouth. "So have you." And you lick it where it hurts, watching him twitch.
"No!" he yells, pushing up against you, and you push back with a little sigh. "No! Let go!" He whimpers, almost like a sob, and your fists loosen.
"I told you!" He twists away, takes a few steps backwards as you stare. "You have to pay! I -told- you--"
You both stare in silence for a bit, heart pounding. "I know," you whisper to his back. "I heard you."
--
You'd followed him under the Cloak again that night. He's not taking the usual route, so you hurry to catch up. The moon is full outside, and finally you stop near the Forest. Your stomach churns as the whole world spins. He'd stopped too, starting to peel his robes off.
"Malfoy!" Breathless.
His face is pale and quiet in moonlight, and his hands shake as he clutches an odd-shaped object to his chest. "You're running away, aren't you." It's not a question.
"God, go away, Potter! What are you--" he backs away, then freezes. "You can't be here! You're out after hours," he whispers, voice shaking. "If you-- I can report this!"
"Shouldn't you be thinking about yourself first? Or are you out for another midnight stroll?"
A pause. "Look, do you want something? I don't have enough time for a blow, if that's what you're after, so--"
"I never meant to--" You stop, stealing glances at the bruises on his wrist. "This is stupid, even you must know that."
"So what," he hisses. "I don't have the time for reminiscing, so if you'll excuse me, I have some business to take care of." He runs a hand through his hair, renewing his grip on the strange object. "Which doesn't concern you, believe it or not."
When he walks away, you keep pace, looking both ways. Nothing moves. "Malfoy...." Hagrid's hut is now behind you. "I know what you're doing, and I'm not exactly surprised, but you should really think--"
"You know nothing!" he screams, and you nearly run smack into his back. "You think I'm going to hang around when you--" He flushes. "Forget it, Potter. It's none of your business. Go back to saving Mudblood kittens or whatever it is you're so good at."
"Listen, Malfoy. I can't just -quit-, you have to understand--"
"No, I don't, and I won't! Don't you get it? I'm sick of listening to your sodding voice and seeing your ugly stupid face each day, that's the fucking point!"
"Are you having a tantrum again?"
"So what are you gonna do? Going to laugh at me, Scarface? Go ahead, I don't give a shit!"
"I'm not going to laugh," you say quietly.
"You seemed all too keen on ignoring me before! What the hell, are you some kind of puppy?! One little lick to the balls and you're-- oomph!"
You knock him to the ground with a grunt. His mouth hangs open, and he's sweating. "You're asking for it, aren't you?" Your eyes roll back as he struggles. "You always have been, M-malfoy--"
"Get off--! Potter! Bloody hell, are you mad? This is the fucking-- Forest, you-- nnngh!"
"Yessss...."
Eyes won't shut: he's beneath you, and your fingers are in his mouth. Eyes wide and forehead pale white, but he sucks hard.
"Mmphh--!"
"What?"
"They're-- they're coming for me," he pants. "They can't-- they'll find me...." He looks away and shivers. "You ruined it all again, you arsehole!" Heatedly.
You scramble upright and offer him a hand after scooping up the Cloak. "I can help you," you say clearly. "It's what I'm good at. Well, the times I don't end up messing everything up."
His eyes don't leave you as he knocks your hand away and stands. "Try again, Potty," and you grab his wrist where the bruises are.
"Maybe later--" And you start to run.
Once you're past the main entrance, and his hands are on his knees, he stammers. "Don't-- don't tell them-- please...."
"Don't worry," you say, "I'm a Gryffindor."
--
"Hey Malfoy! The Death Eaters been good to you this week?"
He stares with bloodshot eyes, fists clenched, but doesn't answer.
"What's gotten into you lately, Harry? Are you all right?"
You look to your side, where your friends are. "Nothing. It's just Malfoy."