[Fic:] Not a Change, just an Adjustment Chapter 21
Title: Chapter 21 El Intermideo V
Author : smirkingcat
Rating: NC-17
Word Count :
Notes:i have been working on it, sadly not as fast as i wanted to;
find part one @lj, @dw
still all the thanks and gratitude to themightyflynnfor the beta,
used for hp_bunintheovenJuly prompt 1: Delirious
Summary: What happens in Spain, does not stay in Spain. Part Five
Warnings: fluff, flangst, mpreg, D/s- subtext, OOC, heavy future angst planned this chapter: present tense
Disclaimer: Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Chapter 21 El Intermideo V
Blaise feels his heart thundering in his chest, a loud drumming in his ears. First because of the high praise which his Master bestowed on him. His Master is always gracious when it comes to praise, because he knows how much Blaise depends on it, but to have it written down so clearly, it was a kick he could not describe.
However the more he reads the more his nerves come into play. Blaise knows that he has a lot of difficulties with keeping still. It does not come naturally to him. He does not fidget, because Zabinis do not fidget, but he always finds a way to make a gracious movement, tilt the head, move the arm, tap the fingers. Or, when it comes to sex, he moves with the pleasure, lets his body lean into the tingles. It is an undeniable fact which he doesn't mind, and knows that his Master enjoys as well. Still, this request does not come completely out of the blue. His Master had now and then mentioned that he should try to hold still, but had never really ordered him to. Blaise always thought it is because his Master knew that such self-control is beyond his capabilities.
But apparently he got it wrong.
It is quite a challenge, when he thinks about it, going so much against his own natural instincts. At the same time though, he wants it, because he knows his Master will be proud of him, and he knows that he can be even better for his Master, once he has learned such a level of control over his body. He is certain that there are things that he could not yet do, because he was lacking the required control. And, also, this is a different kind of playing safe. Alone, with the knowledge that his Master does believe in him, but also will be there if it goes wrong.
He would like nothing more than to test the spells right now, but he can't. There is going to be a big brunch today, and his mother expects him to be there, so she can introduce him. Blaise will never understand why his mother enjoys such grand spectacles, but he has learned through the years to suffer through them with a stoic calmness, that he is often complimented for. Sadly, that calmness is more difficult to come by when he thinks about what he could be doing instead. Or even better where and with whom he could be spending time, instead of being here.
And there is nobody he can complain to. Severus would simply say that waiting only sweetens the relief. A concept Blaise understands, but does not always subscribe to. And it somehow is understood between Severus and him that they do not talk to others about their agreement.
All during the brunch, when he shook the hands of so many important people, where sometimes he got the feeling that his mother is already looking for her next conquest, half his mind wanders back to the spells. The thing about a spell searching for, and acting on his desires is that he himself is not certain what the spell would act upon.
He knows what arouses him, and he loves how good it feels to simply let go of all the control and just be, and take and feel, and give himself over. He also knows the delirious happiness that comes from serving someone else, and being praised not only for how he looks, but especially for how he acts. It is a pleasure that only Severus can give him.
In the end, the first spell he tries out that evening, when he is back alone in his room is the one that might sting him. For one, he needs to understand the pain level and if he can manage it, and also because somehow facing his own desires seems more risky to him than a bit of pain.
He casts the spell lying on top of his bed. At first he tries to lie still, and nothing happens, even as he feels a small twitch in his toes. But as he tries to make his legs more comfortable, there is a sting working its way from his leg though his body. He would describe it as less itchy than a stinging hex, but the sting is sharper, more cutting, and more painful than uncomfortable. But easy to withstand in moderation, a fact that eases his mind. However, after he cancels the spell and thinks about testing the others, he doesn't feel like it. It's not the same if he is the one casting the spells; he is not as comfortable, the mood is not the same. He doesn't want to.
In a weird way, he misses Severus, not just as his Master but also as someone to talk to. And his friends. He spends most of his time alone in his flat, and it suits him. But he also has the option to find company when he wants to. Here under the thumb of his mother, it is different: most of the time he is forced into company he does not want, and when he is alone, he truly feels lonely.
With a heavy sigh he goes to complete his nightly routine before he goes to bed.
The next day he again is woken up, this time by an elf and not by his mother though. "Mistress is expecting Master to be ready for an outing in an hour," the elf squeaks. Blaise makes an understanding hand movement, before he drags his pillow over his head. He is getting aggravated, and restless.
After he is ready to go out, he sits down at his desk and contemplates what he could write to Severus, but words fail him. All he manages to write is: 'Wish I were with you.' But that is not something he can send, and everything else is not something he can put into words, as it is just a mess in his brain. It is a foreign concept to him, to miss someone. It never happened to him before. He knows how to deal with his wants, how to get what he wants, but simply too long for someone... he can't say that he enjoys the experience.
His mother once more drags him all over town. To visit the high society, and exchange platitudes with them. He watches as his mother thrives under all their attention, while he fights his exhaustion. Though, he does not forget his upbringing and plays along perfectly. One does not disappoint Senzafiona Zabini.
They return home only to change clothes for a dance they were invited to, and his mother has made it abundantly clear that she expects him to accompany her again.
He sighs as he once more fumbles with the light blue dress robes. He does not like to wear something so colourful. Obeying an order when his Master is not around, on the one hand, makes things easier, because he knows what he has to do, living up to the trust his Master has in him. But there is also a part of him that feels sad, for not seeing the proud look on his Master's face when he does do something good. But it couldn't be helped.
At the ball his mother makes him dance three dances with her. He expects that, and though she is his mother, he enjoys dancing with her, as she has been the one who taught him, and because she like him never misses a step. Which after all his social engagements and events he attends back home, he learned is not something to take for granted. What displeases him is that she also forces him to dance with some other women who have approached him to ask for a dance. Especially as some of them are not nearly as good as a dancer as she is. The dinner is also a rather tedious part of the evening, as he is not allowed to sit next to his mother, but has to sit with a bunch of unengaged young ladies, clearly hoping to spice up their evening with him. If at least Pansy was here with him, he would have gotten some entertainment out of a nice cat-fight, which she would undoubtedly instigate. He leaves the ball as soon as he is able to slip away. That night he decides that he truly has had enough. He has done his filial responsibilities and he has had enough of Spain and this heat. And he wants to go home. The more he thinks about it, the more his irritation grows.
At breakfast the next morning, he finds his mother lounging once again on the eastern terrace. He joins her there and pours himself a nice cup of coffee.
"So, mother, are you done with me? Can I finally return home again?" he asks directly, because he is done with playing the nice, cordial son. He has come as she called for him, but after five days, he thinks it is enough.
"Darling, don't you enjoy spending time with your mother?"
"I did enjoy seeing you, and talking to you. The trip to Italy was also nice, if exhausting. But I refuse to remain another play stone in whatever game you are playing right now. I met Flaminio, which was a first since was it Number Twelve or Fourteen? The guy with the unfortunate beard, I can't remember his name right now-"
"Blaise, do not anger me this early," Senzafiona hisses. "You usually do know better than this."
"It might be that I do not understand why you want to prance me around like a lapdog. Usually you spare me these kinds of social engagements. And you never mentioned any reason to me as to why?"
"Can a mother not want to spend some time with her child, without being in that miserable old country? It is nice here. The weather is a blessing and the lifestyle is luxurious, as we deserve." His mother sighs.
"You know that I prefer my comfortable life back home to all this luxury around here. I am returning home today. We both know that you can make life wilfully difficult for me if you want to, that is your prerogative, but just to make it understood, it will change our agreeable relationship in unexpected ways."
"I doubt it was me who taught you to be this diplomatic, but I dare say it is a trait you carry well. Sure, son, if you want to leave I am not hindering you. And I did have fun the past week," Senzafiona states as she puts her glass back on the table. "And I concede that I did drag you here, without a warning, so I am acknowledging that you made time for me," his mother says and gets up. She comes over and softly strokes her fingers though his hair. "I am well aware that you are a far better son than I deserve." She leans forward and kisses his cheek. "I wish you a good trip home."
When his mother has gone back inside Blaise breathes a sigh of relief. It is never a good idea to anger his mother, and he never ever has entertained the idea to say anything that may cross her. In a way, Blaise feels as if he just lived though the scariest moment of his life. Even during the war he never has put himself in this kind of danger. He is not certain if he has acted incredibly foolish or incredible brave, but he knows one thing for certain, he is going back to Britain before his mother has a chance to change her mind, and decide that she indeed wants to parade him around some more.
Author : smirkingcat
Rating: NC-17
Word Count :
Notes:i have been working on it, sadly not as fast as i wanted to;
find part one @lj, @dw
still all the thanks and gratitude to themightyflynnfor the beta,
used for hp_bunintheovenJuly prompt 1: Delirious
Summary: What happens in Spain, does not stay in Spain. Part Five
Warnings: fluff, flangst, mpreg, D/s- subtext, OOC, heavy future angst planned this chapter: present tense
Disclaimer: Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Chapter 21 El Intermideo V
Blaise feels his heart thundering in his chest, a loud drumming in his ears. First because of the high praise which his Master bestowed on him. His Master is always gracious when it comes to praise, because he knows how much Blaise depends on it, but to have it written down so clearly, it was a kick he could not describe.
However the more he reads the more his nerves come into play. Blaise knows that he has a lot of difficulties with keeping still. It does not come naturally to him. He does not fidget, because Zabinis do not fidget, but he always finds a way to make a gracious movement, tilt the head, move the arm, tap the fingers. Or, when it comes to sex, he moves with the pleasure, lets his body lean into the tingles. It is an undeniable fact which he doesn't mind, and knows that his Master enjoys as well. Still, this request does not come completely out of the blue. His Master had now and then mentioned that he should try to hold still, but had never really ordered him to. Blaise always thought it is because his Master knew that such self-control is beyond his capabilities.
But apparently he got it wrong.
It is quite a challenge, when he thinks about it, going so much against his own natural instincts. At the same time though, he wants it, because he knows his Master will be proud of him, and he knows that he can be even better for his Master, once he has learned such a level of control over his body. He is certain that there are things that he could not yet do, because he was lacking the required control. And, also, this is a different kind of playing safe. Alone, with the knowledge that his Master does believe in him, but also will be there if it goes wrong.
He would like nothing more than to test the spells right now, but he can't. There is going to be a big brunch today, and his mother expects him to be there, so she can introduce him. Blaise will never understand why his mother enjoys such grand spectacles, but he has learned through the years to suffer through them with a stoic calmness, that he is often complimented for. Sadly, that calmness is more difficult to come by when he thinks about what he could be doing instead. Or even better where and with whom he could be spending time, instead of being here.
And there is nobody he can complain to. Severus would simply say that waiting only sweetens the relief. A concept Blaise understands, but does not always subscribe to. And it somehow is understood between Severus and him that they do not talk to others about their agreement.
All during the brunch, when he shook the hands of so many important people, where sometimes he got the feeling that his mother is already looking for her next conquest, half his mind wanders back to the spells. The thing about a spell searching for, and acting on his desires is that he himself is not certain what the spell would act upon.
He knows what arouses him, and he loves how good it feels to simply let go of all the control and just be, and take and feel, and give himself over. He also knows the delirious happiness that comes from serving someone else, and being praised not only for how he looks, but especially for how he acts. It is a pleasure that only Severus can give him.
In the end, the first spell he tries out that evening, when he is back alone in his room is the one that might sting him. For one, he needs to understand the pain level and if he can manage it, and also because somehow facing his own desires seems more risky to him than a bit of pain.
He casts the spell lying on top of his bed. At first he tries to lie still, and nothing happens, even as he feels a small twitch in his toes. But as he tries to make his legs more comfortable, there is a sting working its way from his leg though his body. He would describe it as less itchy than a stinging hex, but the sting is sharper, more cutting, and more painful than uncomfortable. But easy to withstand in moderation, a fact that eases his mind. However, after he cancels the spell and thinks about testing the others, he doesn't feel like it. It's not the same if he is the one casting the spells; he is not as comfortable, the mood is not the same. He doesn't want to.
In a weird way, he misses Severus, not just as his Master but also as someone to talk to. And his friends. He spends most of his time alone in his flat, and it suits him. But he also has the option to find company when he wants to. Here under the thumb of his mother, it is different: most of the time he is forced into company he does not want, and when he is alone, he truly feels lonely.
With a heavy sigh he goes to complete his nightly routine before he goes to bed.
The next day he again is woken up, this time by an elf and not by his mother though. "Mistress is expecting Master to be ready for an outing in an hour," the elf squeaks. Blaise makes an understanding hand movement, before he drags his pillow over his head. He is getting aggravated, and restless.
After he is ready to go out, he sits down at his desk and contemplates what he could write to Severus, but words fail him. All he manages to write is: 'Wish I were with you.' But that is not something he can send, and everything else is not something he can put into words, as it is just a mess in his brain. It is a foreign concept to him, to miss someone. It never happened to him before. He knows how to deal with his wants, how to get what he wants, but simply too long for someone... he can't say that he enjoys the experience.
His mother once more drags him all over town. To visit the high society, and exchange platitudes with them. He watches as his mother thrives under all their attention, while he fights his exhaustion. Though, he does not forget his upbringing and plays along perfectly. One does not disappoint Senzafiona Zabini.
They return home only to change clothes for a dance they were invited to, and his mother has made it abundantly clear that she expects him to accompany her again.
He sighs as he once more fumbles with the light blue dress robes. He does not like to wear something so colourful. Obeying an order when his Master is not around, on the one hand, makes things easier, because he knows what he has to do, living up to the trust his Master has in him. But there is also a part of him that feels sad, for not seeing the proud look on his Master's face when he does do something good. But it couldn't be helped.
At the ball his mother makes him dance three dances with her. He expects that, and though she is his mother, he enjoys dancing with her, as she has been the one who taught him, and because she like him never misses a step. Which after all his social engagements and events he attends back home, he learned is not something to take for granted. What displeases him is that she also forces him to dance with some other women who have approached him to ask for a dance. Especially as some of them are not nearly as good as a dancer as she is. The dinner is also a rather tedious part of the evening, as he is not allowed to sit next to his mother, but has to sit with a bunch of unengaged young ladies, clearly hoping to spice up their evening with him. If at least Pansy was here with him, he would have gotten some entertainment out of a nice cat-fight, which she would undoubtedly instigate. He leaves the ball as soon as he is able to slip away. That night he decides that he truly has had enough. He has done his filial responsibilities and he has had enough of Spain and this heat. And he wants to go home. The more he thinks about it, the more his irritation grows.
At breakfast the next morning, he finds his mother lounging once again on the eastern terrace. He joins her there and pours himself a nice cup of coffee.
"So, mother, are you done with me? Can I finally return home again?" he asks directly, because he is done with playing the nice, cordial son. He has come as she called for him, but after five days, he thinks it is enough.
"Darling, don't you enjoy spending time with your mother?"
"I did enjoy seeing you, and talking to you. The trip to Italy was also nice, if exhausting. But I refuse to remain another play stone in whatever game you are playing right now. I met Flaminio, which was a first since was it Number Twelve or Fourteen? The guy with the unfortunate beard, I can't remember his name right now-"
"Blaise, do not anger me this early," Senzafiona hisses. "You usually do know better than this."
"It might be that I do not understand why you want to prance me around like a lapdog. Usually you spare me these kinds of social engagements. And you never mentioned any reason to me as to why?"
"Can a mother not want to spend some time with her child, without being in that miserable old country? It is nice here. The weather is a blessing and the lifestyle is luxurious, as we deserve." His mother sighs.
"You know that I prefer my comfortable life back home to all this luxury around here. I am returning home today. We both know that you can make life wilfully difficult for me if you want to, that is your prerogative, but just to make it understood, it will change our agreeable relationship in unexpected ways."
"I doubt it was me who taught you to be this diplomatic, but I dare say it is a trait you carry well. Sure, son, if you want to leave I am not hindering you. And I did have fun the past week," Senzafiona states as she puts her glass back on the table. "And I concede that I did drag you here, without a warning, so I am acknowledging that you made time for me," his mother says and gets up. She comes over and softly strokes her fingers though his hair. "I am well aware that you are a far better son than I deserve." She leans forward and kisses his cheek. "I wish you a good trip home."
When his mother has gone back inside Blaise breathes a sigh of relief. It is never a good idea to anger his mother, and he never ever has entertained the idea to say anything that may cross her. In a way, Blaise feels as if he just lived though the scariest moment of his life. Even during the war he never has put himself in this kind of danger. He is not certain if he has acted incredibly foolish or incredible brave, but he knows one thing for certain, he is going back to Britain before his mother has a chance to change her mind, and decide that she indeed wants to parade him around some more.