oddities...
Well, I guess the only warning I can really give on this is: Not my normal pairing...
For that matter, I don't think I've *EVER* run across this one.
But hey, I may have just written my first NC-17 piece... That'd be a milestone, or something.
This is what happens when Cora starts thinking about power dynamics and House stereotypes.
The blond was shoved up against the wall, held there tightly, although he didn't struggle or try to escape.
"So, here you are then." The voice was low, quiet, almost dark in tone. It reached out to caress, but also held a touch of menace to it. "It always comes back to this, doesn't it?"
The blond was silent, as though fighting with himself over what to say. The other boy didn't give him a chance though.
"No matter what happens it always comes back to this. It comes back to you, and me, and this wall. . . or a table. . . or a desk." The boy's smile was cold, his low voice becoming sarcastic. "You just can't stay away."
One of the hands pinning the blond to the wall slowly lifted up and ran along his stark, aristocratic cheekbones. The dark haired boy leaned slowly forward, till his lips hovered millimeters away from the other's. "And I know why," he whispered before claiming them in a harsh, demanding kiss.
The blond submitted, as he always did, passively opening his mouth and letting the other boy's tongue invade. His breath quickened as the brunette pushed forward, aligning their bodies and shoving him even harder into the wall.
Then the dark haired boy broke off. The same hand moved quickly down to the collar where a tie had been hanging a few hours ago, but which now was unbuttoned. He tugged, popping the next button on the shirt open and yanking it sideways before latching onto the blond's pale skin, sucking and biting, leaving a very clear mark just below the collarbone. A possessive act, but the mark purposely placed so it could be hid from the world.
Malfoy whimpered quietly as the other boy lifted his head away from the flushed, heated skin, but the noise was ignored.
"You love it," the brunette said in that same dark tone. "To all the rest of the school you're the cool, untouchable ice-prince. Perfect and always in control." The boy smirked, a surprising look on the normally open and friendly face. "But here? With me?" Again the voice dropped, but this time it took on a sultry, private quality. "I'm in control here," he said. "You're the one who gets slammed up against the wall and you want it so much it hurts."
The proof of this statement was quite clear to both boys as they pressed against each other.
Draco's eyes flashed and for a second it looked as though he might speak, but almost as fast as the look had appeared it vanished. Instead he glanced down to the ground, offering his partner a perfect view of the mark he'd made not two minutes ago.
"Oh yes," the boy said as though the blond had spoken. "It's true. You know exactly why I'm here too." The hand snaked down ward, bypassing the rest of the buttons on the white shirt and coming to rest on the button of Draco's fly. "You know why I hunger for you, here, like this." The button was swiftly undone and Draco gasped as he felt the brunette's hand slip between the folds of fabric. "You understand exactly what power you have over me by giving me power." The boy paused in his speech to savor the flushed cheeks and heightened pulse rate he could see fluttering at the blond's throat. He reached forward and bit at Draco's ear, causing a shudder to course through him and his cock to leap up towards the hand hovering so close. "Having someone submit; being in control; you know what it means to me."
The hand wrapped itself around Draco's cock and began to stroke, slowly at first, but speeding up and gaining in intensity as the brunette continued to speak. "Boring. . . untrustworthy. . . cheerful. . ." The pace continued to increase, along with the roughness of the brunette's touch. "Rotten. . . dull. . . false. . . chumps. . . " Draco's breath came in short, sharp gasps as he arched forward, his eyes falling closed. " Tricky. . . dim. . . vile. . . slow. . ." All of a sudden the boy's movement stopped. Draco's eyes opened again, and he fought to focus on the face hovering so close to his own.
When the voice continued at last it was the faintest of whispers. "Snake." And without another movement Draco came, biting his own lip to keep from crying out.
By the time Draco finally stopped shaking he had been carefully tucked back into his pants and he was being steadily regarded by the dark eyes of the boy who'd just jerked him off. The blond opened his mouth as though to speak but was cut off by having a finger shoved in his mouth.
"Don't say it Malfoy," the brunette said, and Draco obeyed. Instead he slitted his eyes shut and carefully sucked the finger clean. He was presented with the next finger, and then the next until he'd cleaned every trace of his own juices off the other boy.
Opening his eyes he once more gazed at the other boy, who looked absolutely calm and unruffled. His eyes asked the question he'd been forbidden from speaking aloud.
"No," was the only answer he received.
The brunette released the hand which had remained clamped around Draco's forearm this whole time and carefully, almost tenderly, did up the buttons of the blond's collar, hiding the evidence of their little tryst.
Then, without saying another word, the other boy turned and stepped out of the alcove they'd secluded themselves in.
Unable to watch him just walk away yet again, Draco broke his imposed silence. "Ernie?" It was little more than a whisper, but the other boy stopped and slowly turned around as Draco slipped out into the hall.
The look he was met with was one of almost cold indifference.
"No." Draco gave a faint shudder at the finality of that one word, and once again averted his eyes. But he heard the faint whisper that followed. "No, Draco."
By the time he looked up again the Hufflepuff was turning the corner at the end of the hallway.
For that matter, I don't think I've *EVER* run across this one.
But hey, I may have just written my first NC-17 piece... That'd be a milestone, or something.
This is what happens when Cora starts thinking about power dynamics and House stereotypes.
The blond was shoved up against the wall, held there tightly, although he didn't struggle or try to escape.
"So, here you are then." The voice was low, quiet, almost dark in tone. It reached out to caress, but also held a touch of menace to it. "It always comes back to this, doesn't it?"
The blond was silent, as though fighting with himself over what to say. The other boy didn't give him a chance though.
"No matter what happens it always comes back to this. It comes back to you, and me, and this wall. . . or a table. . . or a desk." The boy's smile was cold, his low voice becoming sarcastic. "You just can't stay away."
One of the hands pinning the blond to the wall slowly lifted up and ran along his stark, aristocratic cheekbones. The dark haired boy leaned slowly forward, till his lips hovered millimeters away from the other's. "And I know why," he whispered before claiming them in a harsh, demanding kiss.
The blond submitted, as he always did, passively opening his mouth and letting the other boy's tongue invade. His breath quickened as the brunette pushed forward, aligning their bodies and shoving him even harder into the wall.
Then the dark haired boy broke off. The same hand moved quickly down to the collar where a tie had been hanging a few hours ago, but which now was unbuttoned. He tugged, popping the next button on the shirt open and yanking it sideways before latching onto the blond's pale skin, sucking and biting, leaving a very clear mark just below the collarbone. A possessive act, but the mark purposely placed so it could be hid from the world.
Malfoy whimpered quietly as the other boy lifted his head away from the flushed, heated skin, but the noise was ignored.
"You love it," the brunette said in that same dark tone. "To all the rest of the school you're the cool, untouchable ice-prince. Perfect and always in control." The boy smirked, a surprising look on the normally open and friendly face. "But here? With me?" Again the voice dropped, but this time it took on a sultry, private quality. "I'm in control here," he said. "You're the one who gets slammed up against the wall and you want it so much it hurts."
The proof of this statement was quite clear to both boys as they pressed against each other.
Draco's eyes flashed and for a second it looked as though he might speak, but almost as fast as the look had appeared it vanished. Instead he glanced down to the ground, offering his partner a perfect view of the mark he'd made not two minutes ago.
"Oh yes," the boy said as though the blond had spoken. "It's true. You know exactly why I'm here too." The hand snaked down ward, bypassing the rest of the buttons on the white shirt and coming to rest on the button of Draco's fly. "You know why I hunger for you, here, like this." The button was swiftly undone and Draco gasped as he felt the brunette's hand slip between the folds of fabric. "You understand exactly what power you have over me by giving me power." The boy paused in his speech to savor the flushed cheeks and heightened pulse rate he could see fluttering at the blond's throat. He reached forward and bit at Draco's ear, causing a shudder to course through him and his cock to leap up towards the hand hovering so close. "Having someone submit; being in control; you know what it means to me."
The hand wrapped itself around Draco's cock and began to stroke, slowly at first, but speeding up and gaining in intensity as the brunette continued to speak. "Boring. . . untrustworthy. . . cheerful. . ." The pace continued to increase, along with the roughness of the brunette's touch. "Rotten. . . dull. . . false. . . chumps. . . " Draco's breath came in short, sharp gasps as he arched forward, his eyes falling closed. " Tricky. . . dim. . . vile. . . slow. . ." All of a sudden the boy's movement stopped. Draco's eyes opened again, and he fought to focus on the face hovering so close to his own.
When the voice continued at last it was the faintest of whispers. "Snake." And without another movement Draco came, biting his own lip to keep from crying out.
By the time Draco finally stopped shaking he had been carefully tucked back into his pants and he was being steadily regarded by the dark eyes of the boy who'd just jerked him off. The blond opened his mouth as though to speak but was cut off by having a finger shoved in his mouth.
"Don't say it Malfoy," the brunette said, and Draco obeyed. Instead he slitted his eyes shut and carefully sucked the finger clean. He was presented with the next finger, and then the next until he'd cleaned every trace of his own juices off the other boy.
Opening his eyes he once more gazed at the other boy, who looked absolutely calm and unruffled. His eyes asked the question he'd been forbidden from speaking aloud.
"No," was the only answer he received.
The brunette released the hand which had remained clamped around Draco's forearm this whole time and carefully, almost tenderly, did up the buttons of the blond's collar, hiding the evidence of their little tryst.
Then, without saying another word, the other boy turned and stepped out of the alcove they'd secluded themselves in.
Unable to watch him just walk away yet again, Draco broke his imposed silence. "Ernie?" It was little more than a whisper, but the other boy stopped and slowly turned around as Draco slipped out into the hall.
The look he was met with was one of almost cold indifference.
"No." Draco gave a faint shudder at the finality of that one word, and once again averted his eyes. But he heard the faint whisper that followed. "No, Draco."
By the time he looked up again the Hufflepuff was turning the corner at the end of the hallway.