March prompt: 01 black
Title / Prompt: 01 Black.
Character: Blaise Zabini
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Blaise/Tom
Rating: 16+
Disclaimer: I don't own them, I don't pretend to own them, I'm just a peon playing in the sandpit.
Word count: 416
There were many things Blaise loved about Tom, things like his pale skin, his deep green eyes, the way his smile lit up his face. He loved Tom's long, elegant fingers, the way those fingers would clench in the bed sheets when Blaise was teasing his lover with his tongue, or the way those fingers carded through his hair as they kissed. He loved Tom's body, the lean lines of muscle and sinew, the hardness and the softness, velvet and steel and power and gentleness and best of all, his. He loved Tom's mind, the way he thought about things, the things that he talked about, the way he became excited over suggestions Blaise made, and most of all, Blaise loved the fact that Tom loved him.
But one of Blaise's favourite things about his lover was his hair. That thick, dark, almost black hair that fell in waves when it was neatly brushed. That hair that turned to curls when wet with rain or when Tom stepped fresh from the shower, the way it became a curly and unruly mess of silkiness and Blaise simply could not resist weaving his fingers through it, stroking it, winding the curls around his fingers. He would make a point of mussing the neat waves into those unruly curls whenever he could, making his lover laugh as Blaise would kiss the top of his head and breathe deep of the scent of his lover and his soft, black hair.
Tom's hair was also, in Blaise's mind, the most convenient handle when it came to getting his lover where he wanted him; when they fucked and Blaise would tug his lover up to kiss him by the hair, his calloused hands tangling in those thick locks, purring at the sensations of tightness and heat and hardness and the softness of curls around his fingers. He would nuzzle his lover's curls when they lay sated, as his fingers idly stroked pale skin, almost like marble in contrast, and he would smile against his lover as Tom cuddled close to him, face buried in Blaise's chest, so that all Blaise could see was the wealth of that dark hair.
There were many things Blaise loved about Tom, and if asked, he could not place one thing above the other. But the thing about Tom that brought out Blaise's mischievous nature more often than not were those dark curls that Tom tried to tame and that Blaise would take great delight in mussing.
Character: Blaise Zabini
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Blaise/Tom
Rating: 16+
Disclaimer: I don't own them, I don't pretend to own them, I'm just a peon playing in the sandpit.
Word count: 416
There were many things Blaise loved about Tom, things like his pale skin, his deep green eyes, the way his smile lit up his face. He loved Tom's long, elegant fingers, the way those fingers would clench in the bed sheets when Blaise was teasing his lover with his tongue, or the way those fingers carded through his hair as they kissed. He loved Tom's body, the lean lines of muscle and sinew, the hardness and the softness, velvet and steel and power and gentleness and best of all, his. He loved Tom's mind, the way he thought about things, the things that he talked about, the way he became excited over suggestions Blaise made, and most of all, Blaise loved the fact that Tom loved him.
But one of Blaise's favourite things about his lover was his hair. That thick, dark, almost black hair that fell in waves when it was neatly brushed. That hair that turned to curls when wet with rain or when Tom stepped fresh from the shower, the way it became a curly and unruly mess of silkiness and Blaise simply could not resist weaving his fingers through it, stroking it, winding the curls around his fingers. He would make a point of mussing the neat waves into those unruly curls whenever he could, making his lover laugh as Blaise would kiss the top of his head and breathe deep of the scent of his lover and his soft, black hair.
Tom's hair was also, in Blaise's mind, the most convenient handle when it came to getting his lover where he wanted him; when they fucked and Blaise would tug his lover up to kiss him by the hair, his calloused hands tangling in those thick locks, purring at the sensations of tightness and heat and hardness and the softness of curls around his fingers. He would nuzzle his lover's curls when they lay sated, as his fingers idly stroked pale skin, almost like marble in contrast, and he would smile against his lover as Tom cuddled close to him, face buried in Blaise's chest, so that all Blaise could see was the wealth of that dark hair.
There were many things Blaise loved about Tom, and if asked, he could not place one thing above the other. But the thing about Tom that brought out Blaise's mischievous nature more often than not were those dark curls that Tom tried to tame and that Blaise would take great delight in mussing.