FIC: Eight Sticks
Disclaimer: Rowling = rich, successful, published author. Me = poor, glum, struggling student. Yes, I can see how you’d get us confused.
OVERALL SUMMARY!: After every single student failed 7th year the first time round, yeah, even Hermione ... they're back ... they're legal (even over here) and I’m making good use of that ... This will only be mentioned once, and I apologise completely for my country's laws ... and Steve Erwin. Paul Hogan. Yahoo Serious. Hula Hoops. Neighbours. Kylie Minogue. Danni Minogue. Damn, my country really screws up a lot.
Eight Sticks.
Status: Complete
Series: 6/13
Rating: R/NC-17
Pairing: Haraco
Warnings: I don't normally write this, so sorry if it feels off.
Summary: Be careful what you wish for ... actually, don't.
Series was started before Halfblood came out. Which means it's now AU cause I'm not rewriting to try to fit canon.
Notes: Warning, I wrote this while I was sober. This could possibly be worse than what happened last time, I haven't worked it out yet.
| 01) Thirteen Kisses | 02) Twelve Kisses... | 03) Eleven Stones | 04) Ten Touchers | 05) Nine Words | 06) Eight Sticks |
Lunch time in the hall and everyone, even the teachers, were slow in moving off to their next class. Harry and his friends were waiting around, mostly under the pretence of guarding Neville's plate because he still hadn't arrived to eat.
Ron watched as more people left for class. "Do you think he's ill?"
"No," Hermione shook her head, resorting her books from alphabetical to chronological, then back again for the fourth time. "He said he was going to work on some assignments he'd fallen behind on. Has anyone seen my green bookmark?"
"Well we can't wait much longer, should we wrap the food up and take it to him later?"
"Look, he's here now." Seamus waved his arm to get the boy's attention.
Neville hurried over, dropping his books and notes on to the table while proceeding to shove food into his mouth without sitting down. "Sorry," He gulped down another forkful. "Thanks for waiting."
"Try to breathe."
"I'm going to fail this year."
"You said that last year." Harry pointed out as his eyes drifted over to look at where a small group of Slytherins were huddled around the Hufflepuff table. It wasn't hard to spot Draco amongst them.
"But I know I will this year, I've barely done any of the things we have to. My assignments are so behind." Neville pushed his plate away, not even half way through it. "We should go, I can't be late and empty-handed. Even Flitwick would hit the roof."
"I really doubt that."
Neville shrugged in reply to Hermione and grabbed up his books, spinning on his heel and slammed straight into Draco who had finally finished with the Hufflepuffs and was leading his group out. Books and parchment spilled onto the floor but only Neville's, as the Slytherin's were being carried by Pansy.
Draco shoved the boy away and spat out his command. "Watch it."
"Sorry." Neville mumbled, kneeling down to retrieve his things as the Slytherins walked away.
Hermione leant over to hiss in Harry's ear. "I don't suppose you could get him to be a little nicer?"
Harry looked around, hoping no one could hear them. "I'm sleeping with him not a miracle worker." He moved off quickly before she could say anything else. "Here, Neville, we'll help."
Harry scooped up the nearest group of parchments and quickly glanced at them, trying to determine if any were supposed to be in some sort of order. It certainly didn't look like it. "Well here's your assignment for History of Magic, at least."
"What? But I didn't do one. I was going to grovel for an extension."
Harry double checked the parchment in his hand and frowned, the writing had changed.
I have a new game.
His eyes flashed up to the main entrance where Draco was talking to a Sixth Year Slytherin and looking bored. Harry knew better. The writing changed again.
Interested?
Neville was rising to his feet again, having collected all his belongings. "Are you sure it's mine?"
Harry smiled weakly. "It's your handwriting." He handed it over once the assignment had reappeared.
Hermione started ushering them out, glancing back at the head table to the teachers. "You must have done it on one of our late nights then just not remembered when you woke up. You did the same thing last month."
Neville frowned in confusion then shrugged, noticing it was indeed in his handwriting. "I guess, come on, we'd better all go. McGonagall's giving us that look again."
---
Harry walked in to find Draco hunched over his desk, writing away on something. "Hi."
Draco hummed a reply back.
He shrugged his shoulders as he unbuttoned his shirt. "Did you enjoy almost killing the Ravenclaw seeker today?"
"Yes."
Harry wasn't really surprised. Most of the Ravenclaws couldn't stand either Hermione, Draco or Dean as they usually topped all of their classes. So that, combined with Draco's disposition of hurting anything in his way, always resulted in a rather brutal game of Quidditch between Ravenclaw and Slytherin. "What are you writing?"
"Prefect Report."
Harry frowned, now standing in only his boxer shorts. "You're in a strange mood today. Shouldn't you be gloating over your victory?"
Draco shut his book and fitted it back into its space on the shelf. "I'm gloating on the inside."
Harry smiled. "Now I know you're ill."
Draco smiled back, but Harry could tell it was off.
"Um, how did you do that this afternoon?"
"Do what?" Draco open the drawer of his desk and started pushing papers around, obviously looking for something.
"That assignment. In Neville's handwriting. And how did you know I would be the one to pick it up?"
"A little persuasion spell. You were compelled to pick it up." He placed a small wooden box oh the desktop and began reorganising the drawer, tidying it.
"And how did you know that Neville hadn't done his History assignment? Or how to mimic his handwriting?"
Draco smiled playfully, gesturing to a small banner that hung on the wall. "Know thy enemy."
"I thought that said 'Know thy self'?"
"Sometimes there's little difference."
Harry thought about that for a few seconds while Draco continued cleaning. "Is that what this is?" he asked, softly. "Know thy enemy?"
Draco turned to face him, suddenly, shutting the drawer with force. Harry didn't know when he'd picked up the dagger, but it was held now and he felt a slight shiver as he looked at the shiny blade.
Draco didn't answer the question. He brought the hand holding the weapon up to his chin to tap his fingers as the dagger pointed towards the wall, looking as if it was sprouting from his cheek.
Harry remained very still, not too sure with what was going on. Draco was clearly trying to decide something. Something that needed a large, dangerous-looking knife. "Draco?" He didn't get an answer, just a steady gaze. He resisted the urge to look for his shirt, telling himself he didn't need his wand. "Malfoy?"
Draco smiled now, lowering his hand to his side again and picked up the small box from the desk. "Hold out your hand."
Harry could see that whatever had been bothering the other boy was gone now, so he slowly lifted his hand out. But he didn't let himself forget about the weapon.
Draco placed the dagger on the desk and opened the box, bringing out a thin cylinder of wood. He turned Harry's hand so it was palm-down and appeared to measure the stick against Harry's middle finger, starting just before the wrist. Harry had no idea what was going on, but he stood quietly and let his other fingers be judged as well.
"Did you ever hear that saying of 'Be careful what you wish for'?"
Harry raised his eyebrows, wondering how that fit in with what was happening. "Yes."
"A few hundred years ago, there was this wizard, a man called Shyrltac. He inadvertently saved the life of a very powerful figure and was granted the right to ask for whatever he wanted. Now, the problem with that was he didn't convey exactly what he had in mind. You see, there was this beautiful woman living in the next village and he'd been infatuated with her for years. He had all these fantasies of them laughing, dancing. Dreams of beautiful nights and carefree days. Of them growing old together. That's what he had wanted. But of course all he had asked for was for her to love him."
Harry tilted his head. "And just them loving each other didn't bring the happiness he had expected?"
Draco sat down at his desk and tipped the box up, spilling more sticks out. He picked the dagger up again and began cutting them. "Well, at first, it had. She professed her love and consented to marry him. But what he hadn't expected was that he would not love her. She had fascinated him from afar, but after they were married, the intrigue began to fade. Within a year he could barely talk to her and yet he was to be with her until the end of his days."
"So he didn't love her to begin with?"
"No, but he was young, he didn't know any better." Draco did something very strange then. He pricked the tip of his thumb and squeezed until a drop of blood formed.
"What are you doing?"
"I'm telling you a story," Draco dipped one of the sticks in the blood and placed it on the desk, picking up the next one. "He handled it well for a few years, growing fond of her over the time. But then a new family moved to his village. They had a daughter, a young yet plain little thing, who everyone grew to like. I'm sure you can see where this is going?"
"He fell in love with her." Harry wasn't entirely stupid and he could tell that the story was just meant to relax him, distract him from something. But he played along anyway.
"Yes. While she was not as beautiful as his wife, she had something that drew him to her. He couldn't explain it, and who can explain why people love who they do?" Draco gently breathed over the last stick, drying the smear of blood on its tip.
"What happened?"
"In the end, rather than betray his wife who he did care for, he killed himself, claiming he had an illness that could not be cured and that this would end his agony. His wife mourned for a few months before the spell she was under exhausted itself and after that, while sad at the memories, she moved on and remarried. The other girl was devastated by the loss of her friend. She never married, I don't think." Draco shrugged and smiled. "It's been awhile since I read the story."
Harry nodded. "Hence the saying."
"Yes. Some people just never think through what they say. Come here and give me your hands."
Harry squeaked embarrassingly when Draco nicked the back of his hand and he tried to pull away. "Stop it!"
"Oh don't be so pathetic," Draco picked up one of the sticks and held it firmly to the back of Harry's hand. "Now that's enough about stories. What do you know about body fluids?"
"What?" Harry held his hand still and watched in horrified fascination as the object was pushed into the cut. The stick did something very strange then. The skin on the back of his hand seemed to part, but he was sure that wasn't possible. The thin piece of wood, sunk into his hand about half way, the slight curve of it still visible.
"Body fluids," Draco repeated, making another small cut and picking up the next piece. "Name them."
Harry grimaced as his hand stung. "Um, sweat, tears, urine, semen, saliva ..." He looked to his hand. "blood."
Draco was now set on inserting the third stick, five more still sitting on the desk. "Good enough. Now sweat, that's good. But it's the end of November. It would take awhile for us get to that stage and I can't be bothered. Tears, well, that would be an awful lot of tears, probably more than we could make."
"I have no idea what you're talking about."
"Urine," Draco scrunched up his nose. "Not a chance. Semen, now it's an interesting idea, especially to begin with, but it's probably not what you meant. Saliva is too restrictive as well." He looked and smiled. "So that only leaves blood and here we are." He started on Harry's other hand, the four tiny rods clearly embedded in Harry's skin.
"Have you gone mad?" Harry tentatively flexed his fingers now that the pain seemed to be fading. He stared as the wood bent with his movements, appearing to stretch at the points of the knuckles. His thumb felt absurdly naked.
Draco sighed as he worked. "Where is sweat?"
"What?"
"Where. Is. Sweat?"
Harry didn't even notice the new cuts being made on his other hand. He was still flexing his fingers and watching the wood expand. "Glands?"
"And when it's been secreted?"
"Everywhere?"
"Close enough, but like I said, it would take too long. Semen? Saliva? where are they?"
Harry's eyes automatically drifted down to Draco's pyjama pants. "Um."
Draco had finished with Harry's hands and got out of his chair. "Semen, while still in the body, is generally located in the groin area." To prove his point he slid his hands between Harry's legs and squeezed gently.
Harry exhaled sharply, one of his hands coming up to rest on Draco's shoulder.
"While saliva is mostly in the mouth and the glands," Draco's other hand brushed fingers across Harry's mouth. "and down to your stomach of course, down your oesophagus." He rubbed his thumb down the front of Harry's throat. "See, not many places. While it is very tempting, too restrictive."
"Restrictive how?"
Draco stepped away and around, walking over to sit on the edge of the bed. "But blood is not. Blood is everywhere. Under the skin, flowing beneath the surface. Cut me and I will bleed, providing it was deep enough." Draco crooked his finger, a gesture for Harry to walk over.
Harry loomed over where the blonde sat, still having no idea what the hell he was talking about. "Okay, fine, blood is everywhere. Why does that matter?"
Draco smiled, leaning back on his elbows and stretching his legs out between Harry's own. "Think of it like a magnet."
Harry gave him a wary look. "Blood is a magnet?"
"Today it is. Xyehp."
He didn't have time to ask what was said. He had been standing above Draco, looking down, but now something had happened. Draco was flat on his back, Harry's hands pinning him to the bed. He went to pull away, getting back onto the floor, only to find that every time he tried to pull his hands away, he couldn't. "I'm sorry, I don't know what ... I'm sorry." He gave one last wrench, only to watch in surprise as Draco lifted off the bed slightly. "What the ..."
Draco calmly rubbed the hands on his chest, waiting for Harry to relax a bit and pay attention.
Harry tried to get his hands off, but the best he could do was raise his palm up, leaving only his fingertips on Draco's skin. He shook his head, bewildered and then looked back to Draco's face.
Who smiled slowly, looking mischievous. "You said you wanted to touch me." He let it sink in a bit. "Now you have no choice but to."
And Harry had to smile back. It seemed almost natural that Draco would take such a request to the extreme. He looked to his hands and studied them. "You're glowing." Around his palms he could just make out a slight blue tinge to Draco's skin.
"If you could lift your palms and look at them, you'd see that they are too. But you can't. That is the point after all."
"It's not hurting you, is it?"
The blonde head moved slowly from side to side. "No, it actually feels rather good. Very good. Can't you feel it?"
Harry looked to his hands and shrugged a little. "Well, my hands feel ... calm. Can hands even do that?"
"It feels nice."
Harry liked the look Draco had right now. He'd seen anger, hatred, smugness and lust before, but this one was the best. Draco looked simply content, and he'd had a strange part in that. The feeling he got when he made his friend's smile was close to what he had now. "Um, what am I allowed to do?"
Draco's smile faltered slightly but came back strong. "I'm feeling generous. I'll let you do what ever you like."
Harry thought that maybe he could think of why Malfoy looked so pensive before. He certainly didn't seem the sort of person who would decide to let someone fuck him easily. He decided not to push it. "Okay ... I just want to touch you for now." He slid his hands up to Draco's shoulders, thinking about how he'd asked for something just like this. Both hands travelled down Draco's left arm, awkwardly turning his hand over so he could look at the palm before they glided back up to the shoulder and then down to the thin waist that lifted up on the bed before he could even ask if he could help take off the trousers.
His fingertips scratched their way down over the newly exposed legs and back up before both of his hands went down Draco's right leg, passed the thigh to gently feel the faint scars on the knee. "You never seemed like the tree-climbing sort of child. Or whatever you did to get these."
"Yeah? Well you never seemed like the 'fuck any guy even if it's my enemy' sort of teenager ... but I could tell."
Harry glared briefly before returning his attention to the skin under his hands. He thought it was fascinating, watching the blue remain on the skin just a few moments after his hands had moved on. The way it would deepen if he lingered on a place and pressed in, making the colour pool around the imprint of his hand. "That's not what I'm doing."
"We're not friends, you realise."
"Of course I realise ... but this is different ... this is ... is ... um ..."
"Just about the sex, exactly. No matter how much you want it to be intimate it never will be, because we don't like each other."
"I don't want it to be intimate."
Draco laughed harshly. "Oh of course not. Do you think you could get a game where I get to touch you? ... Yes, not craving affection at all. Sad how you come to me for it. Or should that be cum for me for it?"
Harry's faced twisted up angrily. "Do you want me to leave?"
"I'd like to see you try."
He snarled, knowing he couldn't, not like this. "Fuck you."
"Yes, I wish you bloody would, I'm going out of my mind here."
"Good." Harry moved his hands to cup Draco's foot, watching smugly as the blonde head rolled back even further and the back arched.
"So nice."
"I'm not trying to be nice."
"Then you're failing badly."
"I just want to see if I can make you beg."
"You forget how I was the one to win with the chocolates."
"Lucky break."
"Not bloody likely. Not after five years of repressing my sexual desires because they didn't fit in with the rest of the school."
Harry stopped, his eyes moving to look at the unflushed face on the mattress. "So what is this then?"
Draco's smile was back with a hint of smugness. "You're the 'severe lack of options' choice. Just like I am for you." The grey eyes cleared slightly, the look of lust almost gone. "You know, for a boarding school you'd expect there to be more of us."
"Screw you, Malfoy."
"Yes, yes you keep promising, but you don't do anything."
Harry looked down to his hands that were now moving back up Draco's right arm and he paused to wonder why he'd never noticed that Draco's armpits were so smooth and hair-free. It occurred to him that he rarely bothered to pay any attention to anything passed the pleasure he expected to receive while here. If he wasn't so angry right now he would have felt guilty at that, but instead he wrapped his hands around Draco's throat. "Maybe I should screw you over in another way?"
Draco sat up easily, the hands on his throat giving no resistance until he was almost face to face with Harry. "Oh just fuck me, already. I'm dying here." His head tilted as he studied Harry's reaction. "After all, it's not like I said you were a bad 'severe lack of options' choice."
Harry tried not to look at the calm eyes, but he felt some of his anger leave him slowly. Under Draco's skin he could feel his unease and tension about what was happening, what he would let him do and Harry couldn't help but forgive him for everything he'd said so far this evening. "I can't ... I ... don't have anything." He looked to his hands that had slipped down to Draco's chest. "And I can't let go to find something."
"Get on the bed fully."
It was pretty much an order and Harry liked that. It was easier to just do as he was told and not have to work it out for himself. He awkwardly moved to kneel on the bed, hindered by how he couldn't use his hands very well. Draco moved closer, their chests touching so Harry was forced to slide his hands around to his back or risk cracking his wrists. He watched curiously as Draco leaned pass him slightly and to his great surprise, slid the bottom corner bedknob off completely, letting it hit the ground with a clunk. The faintly familiar smell of jam rose up and he flushed harder, a little embarrassed that the smell only made him harder.
"I don't know who designed this bed. I try not to think of what the last occupant used to do." Draco murmured as he swirled his fingers in the hidden substance. "Needless to say this is not the same pot that was here when I moved in."
Harry dropped his head to rest his forehead on Draco's shoulder when he felt the cool, slick fingers slide over his erection, smearing the lubricant over the soft skin. He licked the sweat off of the pale neck, bringing his hand up to sift through the soft blonde hair. He yelped softly when the hand on his cock pulled too hard and he moved so he could look him in the face.
Draco's eyes were almost closed, his head tilted into the hand at the back and he had a faint, slightly dopey smile. Curiously, Harry moved his other hand up, so that both were cupping his head. Draco's eyes opened more, staring up at the ceiling and his lips started to move, not even loud enough to be whispers, as he rambled off something inaudible.
From Harry's point of view it looked as if the boy was praying and it was beautiful to him. He gently pulled Draco's head down for a kiss, firmly pressing his tongue between those teeth and tasting as much as he could. He nearly lost his balance when Draco shifted, foolishly trying to put his hand down on the mattress and almost dragging Draco's face with it.
"Watch it."
"Sorry." His knees were aching from all this kneeling with his weight on his calves and he was sure his feet had already fallen asleep, but now didn't seem the right time to be talking. He wasn't entirely sure how, but Draco had managed to shift so that he was basically sitting in Harry's lap and that was when it got really weird. Draco raised his hands up, between where Harry's arms still were and then used his elbows to push Harry's hands down so they slid to his waist. Slowly Draco leaned back until his back was resting on the mattress, one leg around Harry's back.
"You said you'd fuck me almost half an hour ago."
Harry swallowed nervously and shifted his weight a little when Draco reached back and took hold of his erection, positioning it better. And then he froze. He shook his head slowly at Draco and clenched his teeth. Suddenly he didn't feel very well and there were a few less than wonderful questions racing through his mind. What if he was bad? What if he hurt him? What if it was so awful Draco kicked him out?
"Oh you have to be kidding." Draco sighed and sat up, curving his back so that he could kiss Harry without moving his hips.
Distracted by this, Harry didn't realise what Draco was doing until it was too late. He tried to pull away when he felt Draco pushing down, forcing him in, but the hands holding his shoulders were stronger than they looked. And he wasn't sure he wanted to pull away because it was hot and soft and somehow arousing simply by its feel. But he had to wonder if it hurt because without the use of magic, surely something should have been done before this.
Draco broke the kiss and Harry saw him wince, but instead of stopping all he did was move Harry's hands down, guiding them until they were cupping his arse. He groaned then and not one of pain, collapsing back down on the bed. "Move."
Awkwardly, given their position, Harry obeyed and a deep sigh was a signal that he hadn't managed to mess it up. And he had to admit it felt very good, better than his hand ever had, maybe even better than Draco's mouth. It was certainly tighter than Draco's mouth. He moved again, shifting his hands so they could hold Draco more securely and still spread the clearly enjoyable sensation that they were giving the other boy.
It occurred to him, as he began to move a little faster, that Draco didn't seem as tense as he had earlier. He looked simply relaxed and aroused, all signs of his hesitancy now gone and Harry had to wonder if he'd be like that. Draco hadn't actually fucked him since that first time when they were high. He wasn't sure if that was a good or a bad thing.
Draco's hands had moved to Harry's chest now and his fingers twisted a nipple unexpectedly, causing Harry to lurch slightly. "Fuck me harder."
Harry hissed to hear him say that and complied, figuring Draco knew what he could handle. But he wouldn't be able to go on much longer if he kept it up like this because whatever Draco had smeared over him was starting to tingle in a peculiar way and it was all getting to be a bit too much. He concentrated solely on lasting, trying to deny the building tension in his groin but then Draco let out a deep, shaky groan and compressed his muscles. Harry cringed as that proved enough to tip the balance and he pressed his eyes shut and moaned, emptying himself in the few last thrusts he managed before slumping where he sat.
After taking a few seconds to catch his breath, he shifted, pulling out completely and dragged his hands around to Draco's stomach. The soft blue light stained the skin under his hands like an aura of sorts and he moved them down to the pale thighs. He liked the way Draco squirmed under his touch and let his hands linger there, rubbing them gently. He shifted more to Draco's side and moved his left hand back up to the blonde head, thumb resting over the forehead, momentarily using that for balance as he stretched out to lie down next to him. Leaning in to kiss him one last time, he took pity on the frustrated boy and slid his hand from his thigh to wrap around the straining erection, squeezing probably harder than necessary and making the blue magic spread out.
Draco's reaction was instant. Panting into Harry's kiss, his body twisted and jolted as his orgasm rushed over him. He moaned into Harry's mouth and then sunk into the bed, the hand on his forehead still making his vision blur.
Harry moved both hands to his chest and smiled at Draco's expression. But he felt rather grimy and looked to the bathroom door, wondering if it was worth the effort. The drying semen on his hand suggested it was and he nudged Draco for attention. "I need to let go."
Draco blinked a few times before licking his dry lips. "Xyis."
Harry lifted his hands up and experienced a strange feeling of freedom when none of Draco followed them.
Lazily, Draco snatched at one of them and seemed to easily peel the sticks off one at a time, before gesturing for the other to clear it.
Harry nearly fell over when he tried to stand, his mostly blood-deprived feet not quite steady but he managed to make it to the bathroom without looking too much like a fool. He cleaned himself up as best he could and went back out to collapse on his side of the bed. "You know all that 'be careful what you wish for' stuff? It's a load of crap."
Draco gave a smug smile, apparently too tired to do anything else and already under the covers.
"Malfoy?"
"Mmmm?"
"Thanks."
"Sure." Draco shifted to his side, obviously wanting sleep even more than a shower. "You know, the games aren't a one off thing. We can do them again. I mean, I haven't found a new chocolate supplier yet and I'd have to order more paint, but they are all repeatable."
"You mean make our meetings a more regular ... event?"
"Mmmm."
"I liked the paint. Really liked it."
"I'll get more on Monday."
Done.
| 01) Thirteen Kisses | 02) Twelve Kisses... | 03) Eleven Stones | 04) Ten Touchers | 05) Nine Words | 06) Eight Sticks |
OVERALL SUMMARY!: After every single student failed 7th year the first time round, yeah, even Hermione ... they're back ... they're legal (even over here) and I’m making good use of that ... This will only be mentioned once, and I apologise completely for my country's laws ... and Steve Erwin. Paul Hogan. Yahoo Serious. Hula Hoops. Neighbours. Kylie Minogue. Danni Minogue. Damn, my country really screws up a lot.
Eight Sticks.
Status: Complete
Series: 6/13
Rating: R/NC-17
Pairing: Haraco
Warnings: I don't normally write this, so sorry if it feels off.
Summary: Be careful what you wish for ... actually, don't.
Series was started before Halfblood came out. Which means it's now AU cause I'm not rewriting to try to fit canon.
Notes: Warning, I wrote this while I was sober. This could possibly be worse than what happened last time, I haven't worked it out yet.
| 01) Thirteen Kisses | 02) Twelve Kisses... | 03) Eleven Stones | 04) Ten Touchers | 05) Nine Words | 06) Eight Sticks |
Lunch time in the hall and everyone, even the teachers, were slow in moving off to their next class. Harry and his friends were waiting around, mostly under the pretence of guarding Neville's plate because he still hadn't arrived to eat.
Ron watched as more people left for class. "Do you think he's ill?"
"No," Hermione shook her head, resorting her books from alphabetical to chronological, then back again for the fourth time. "He said he was going to work on some assignments he'd fallen behind on. Has anyone seen my green bookmark?"
"Well we can't wait much longer, should we wrap the food up and take it to him later?"
"Look, he's here now." Seamus waved his arm to get the boy's attention.
Neville hurried over, dropping his books and notes on to the table while proceeding to shove food into his mouth without sitting down. "Sorry," He gulped down another forkful. "Thanks for waiting."
"Try to breathe."
"I'm going to fail this year."
"You said that last year." Harry pointed out as his eyes drifted over to look at where a small group of Slytherins were huddled around the Hufflepuff table. It wasn't hard to spot Draco amongst them.
"But I know I will this year, I've barely done any of the things we have to. My assignments are so behind." Neville pushed his plate away, not even half way through it. "We should go, I can't be late and empty-handed. Even Flitwick would hit the roof."
"I really doubt that."
Neville shrugged in reply to Hermione and grabbed up his books, spinning on his heel and slammed straight into Draco who had finally finished with the Hufflepuffs and was leading his group out. Books and parchment spilled onto the floor but only Neville's, as the Slytherin's were being carried by Pansy.
Draco shoved the boy away and spat out his command. "Watch it."
"Sorry." Neville mumbled, kneeling down to retrieve his things as the Slytherins walked away.
Hermione leant over to hiss in Harry's ear. "I don't suppose you could get him to be a little nicer?"
Harry looked around, hoping no one could hear them. "I'm sleeping with him not a miracle worker." He moved off quickly before she could say anything else. "Here, Neville, we'll help."
Harry scooped up the nearest group of parchments and quickly glanced at them, trying to determine if any were supposed to be in some sort of order. It certainly didn't look like it. "Well here's your assignment for History of Magic, at least."
"What? But I didn't do one. I was going to grovel for an extension."
Harry double checked the parchment in his hand and frowned, the writing had changed.
I have a new game.
His eyes flashed up to the main entrance where Draco was talking to a Sixth Year Slytherin and looking bored. Harry knew better. The writing changed again.
Interested?
Neville was rising to his feet again, having collected all his belongings. "Are you sure it's mine?"
Harry smiled weakly. "It's your handwriting." He handed it over once the assignment had reappeared.
Hermione started ushering them out, glancing back at the head table to the teachers. "You must have done it on one of our late nights then just not remembered when you woke up. You did the same thing last month."
Neville frowned in confusion then shrugged, noticing it was indeed in his handwriting. "I guess, come on, we'd better all go. McGonagall's giving us that look again."
---
Harry walked in to find Draco hunched over his desk, writing away on something. "Hi."
Draco hummed a reply back.
He shrugged his shoulders as he unbuttoned his shirt. "Did you enjoy almost killing the Ravenclaw seeker today?"
"Yes."
Harry wasn't really surprised. Most of the Ravenclaws couldn't stand either Hermione, Draco or Dean as they usually topped all of their classes. So that, combined with Draco's disposition of hurting anything in his way, always resulted in a rather brutal game of Quidditch between Ravenclaw and Slytherin. "What are you writing?"
"Prefect Report."
Harry frowned, now standing in only his boxer shorts. "You're in a strange mood today. Shouldn't you be gloating over your victory?"
Draco shut his book and fitted it back into its space on the shelf. "I'm gloating on the inside."
Harry smiled. "Now I know you're ill."
Draco smiled back, but Harry could tell it was off.
"Um, how did you do that this afternoon?"
"Do what?" Draco open the drawer of his desk and started pushing papers around, obviously looking for something.
"That assignment. In Neville's handwriting. And how did you know I would be the one to pick it up?"
"A little persuasion spell. You were compelled to pick it up." He placed a small wooden box oh the desktop and began reorganising the drawer, tidying it.
"And how did you know that Neville hadn't done his History assignment? Or how to mimic his handwriting?"
Draco smiled playfully, gesturing to a small banner that hung on the wall. "Know thy enemy."
"I thought that said 'Know thy self'?"
"Sometimes there's little difference."
Harry thought about that for a few seconds while Draco continued cleaning. "Is that what this is?" he asked, softly. "Know thy enemy?"
Draco turned to face him, suddenly, shutting the drawer with force. Harry didn't know when he'd picked up the dagger, but it was held now and he felt a slight shiver as he looked at the shiny blade.
Draco didn't answer the question. He brought the hand holding the weapon up to his chin to tap his fingers as the dagger pointed towards the wall, looking as if it was sprouting from his cheek.
Harry remained very still, not too sure with what was going on. Draco was clearly trying to decide something. Something that needed a large, dangerous-looking knife. "Draco?" He didn't get an answer, just a steady gaze. He resisted the urge to look for his shirt, telling himself he didn't need his wand. "Malfoy?"
Draco smiled now, lowering his hand to his side again and picked up the small box from the desk. "Hold out your hand."
Harry could see that whatever had been bothering the other boy was gone now, so he slowly lifted his hand out. But he didn't let himself forget about the weapon.
Draco placed the dagger on the desk and opened the box, bringing out a thin cylinder of wood. He turned Harry's hand so it was palm-down and appeared to measure the stick against Harry's middle finger, starting just before the wrist. Harry had no idea what was going on, but he stood quietly and let his other fingers be judged as well.
"Did you ever hear that saying of 'Be careful what you wish for'?"
Harry raised his eyebrows, wondering how that fit in with what was happening. "Yes."
"A few hundred years ago, there was this wizard, a man called Shyrltac. He inadvertently saved the life of a very powerful figure and was granted the right to ask for whatever he wanted. Now, the problem with that was he didn't convey exactly what he had in mind. You see, there was this beautiful woman living in the next village and he'd been infatuated with her for years. He had all these fantasies of them laughing, dancing. Dreams of beautiful nights and carefree days. Of them growing old together. That's what he had wanted. But of course all he had asked for was for her to love him."
Harry tilted his head. "And just them loving each other didn't bring the happiness he had expected?"
Draco sat down at his desk and tipped the box up, spilling more sticks out. He picked the dagger up again and began cutting them. "Well, at first, it had. She professed her love and consented to marry him. But what he hadn't expected was that he would not love her. She had fascinated him from afar, but after they were married, the intrigue began to fade. Within a year he could barely talk to her and yet he was to be with her until the end of his days."
"So he didn't love her to begin with?"
"No, but he was young, he didn't know any better." Draco did something very strange then. He pricked the tip of his thumb and squeezed until a drop of blood formed.
"What are you doing?"
"I'm telling you a story," Draco dipped one of the sticks in the blood and placed it on the desk, picking up the next one. "He handled it well for a few years, growing fond of her over the time. But then a new family moved to his village. They had a daughter, a young yet plain little thing, who everyone grew to like. I'm sure you can see where this is going?"
"He fell in love with her." Harry wasn't entirely stupid and he could tell that the story was just meant to relax him, distract him from something. But he played along anyway.
"Yes. While she was not as beautiful as his wife, she had something that drew him to her. He couldn't explain it, and who can explain why people love who they do?" Draco gently breathed over the last stick, drying the smear of blood on its tip.
"What happened?"
"In the end, rather than betray his wife who he did care for, he killed himself, claiming he had an illness that could not be cured and that this would end his agony. His wife mourned for a few months before the spell she was under exhausted itself and after that, while sad at the memories, she moved on and remarried. The other girl was devastated by the loss of her friend. She never married, I don't think." Draco shrugged and smiled. "It's been awhile since I read the story."
Harry nodded. "Hence the saying."
"Yes. Some people just never think through what they say. Come here and give me your hands."
Harry squeaked embarrassingly when Draco nicked the back of his hand and he tried to pull away. "Stop it!"
"Oh don't be so pathetic," Draco picked up one of the sticks and held it firmly to the back of Harry's hand. "Now that's enough about stories. What do you know about body fluids?"
"What?" Harry held his hand still and watched in horrified fascination as the object was pushed into the cut. The stick did something very strange then. The skin on the back of his hand seemed to part, but he was sure that wasn't possible. The thin piece of wood, sunk into his hand about half way, the slight curve of it still visible.
"Body fluids," Draco repeated, making another small cut and picking up the next piece. "Name them."
Harry grimaced as his hand stung. "Um, sweat, tears, urine, semen, saliva ..." He looked to his hand. "blood."
Draco was now set on inserting the third stick, five more still sitting on the desk. "Good enough. Now sweat, that's good. But it's the end of November. It would take awhile for us get to that stage and I can't be bothered. Tears, well, that would be an awful lot of tears, probably more than we could make."
"I have no idea what you're talking about."
"Urine," Draco scrunched up his nose. "Not a chance. Semen, now it's an interesting idea, especially to begin with, but it's probably not what you meant. Saliva is too restrictive as well." He looked and smiled. "So that only leaves blood and here we are." He started on Harry's other hand, the four tiny rods clearly embedded in Harry's skin.
"Have you gone mad?" Harry tentatively flexed his fingers now that the pain seemed to be fading. He stared as the wood bent with his movements, appearing to stretch at the points of the knuckles. His thumb felt absurdly naked.
Draco sighed as he worked. "Where is sweat?"
"What?"
"Where. Is. Sweat?"
Harry didn't even notice the new cuts being made on his other hand. He was still flexing his fingers and watching the wood expand. "Glands?"
"And when it's been secreted?"
"Everywhere?"
"Close enough, but like I said, it would take too long. Semen? Saliva? where are they?"
Harry's eyes automatically drifted down to Draco's pyjama pants. "Um."
Draco had finished with Harry's hands and got out of his chair. "Semen, while still in the body, is generally located in the groin area." To prove his point he slid his hands between Harry's legs and squeezed gently.
Harry exhaled sharply, one of his hands coming up to rest on Draco's shoulder.
"While saliva is mostly in the mouth and the glands," Draco's other hand brushed fingers across Harry's mouth. "and down to your stomach of course, down your oesophagus." He rubbed his thumb down the front of Harry's throat. "See, not many places. While it is very tempting, too restrictive."
"Restrictive how?"
Draco stepped away and around, walking over to sit on the edge of the bed. "But blood is not. Blood is everywhere. Under the skin, flowing beneath the surface. Cut me and I will bleed, providing it was deep enough." Draco crooked his finger, a gesture for Harry to walk over.
Harry loomed over where the blonde sat, still having no idea what the hell he was talking about. "Okay, fine, blood is everywhere. Why does that matter?"
Draco smiled, leaning back on his elbows and stretching his legs out between Harry's own. "Think of it like a magnet."
Harry gave him a wary look. "Blood is a magnet?"
"Today it is. Xyehp."
He didn't have time to ask what was said. He had been standing above Draco, looking down, but now something had happened. Draco was flat on his back, Harry's hands pinning him to the bed. He went to pull away, getting back onto the floor, only to find that every time he tried to pull his hands away, he couldn't. "I'm sorry, I don't know what ... I'm sorry." He gave one last wrench, only to watch in surprise as Draco lifted off the bed slightly. "What the ..."
Draco calmly rubbed the hands on his chest, waiting for Harry to relax a bit and pay attention.
Harry tried to get his hands off, but the best he could do was raise his palm up, leaving only his fingertips on Draco's skin. He shook his head, bewildered and then looked back to Draco's face.
Who smiled slowly, looking mischievous. "You said you wanted to touch me." He let it sink in a bit. "Now you have no choice but to."
And Harry had to smile back. It seemed almost natural that Draco would take such a request to the extreme. He looked to his hands and studied them. "You're glowing." Around his palms he could just make out a slight blue tinge to Draco's skin.
"If you could lift your palms and look at them, you'd see that they are too. But you can't. That is the point after all."
"It's not hurting you, is it?"
The blonde head moved slowly from side to side. "No, it actually feels rather good. Very good. Can't you feel it?"
Harry looked to his hands and shrugged a little. "Well, my hands feel ... calm. Can hands even do that?"
"It feels nice."
Harry liked the look Draco had right now. He'd seen anger, hatred, smugness and lust before, but this one was the best. Draco looked simply content, and he'd had a strange part in that. The feeling he got when he made his friend's smile was close to what he had now. "Um, what am I allowed to do?"
Draco's smile faltered slightly but came back strong. "I'm feeling generous. I'll let you do what ever you like."
Harry thought that maybe he could think of why Malfoy looked so pensive before. He certainly didn't seem the sort of person who would decide to let someone fuck him easily. He decided not to push it. "Okay ... I just want to touch you for now." He slid his hands up to Draco's shoulders, thinking about how he'd asked for something just like this. Both hands travelled down Draco's left arm, awkwardly turning his hand over so he could look at the palm before they glided back up to the shoulder and then down to the thin waist that lifted up on the bed before he could even ask if he could help take off the trousers.
His fingertips scratched their way down over the newly exposed legs and back up before both of his hands went down Draco's right leg, passed the thigh to gently feel the faint scars on the knee. "You never seemed like the tree-climbing sort of child. Or whatever you did to get these."
"Yeah? Well you never seemed like the 'fuck any guy even if it's my enemy' sort of teenager ... but I could tell."
Harry glared briefly before returning his attention to the skin under his hands. He thought it was fascinating, watching the blue remain on the skin just a few moments after his hands had moved on. The way it would deepen if he lingered on a place and pressed in, making the colour pool around the imprint of his hand. "That's not what I'm doing."
"We're not friends, you realise."
"Of course I realise ... but this is different ... this is ... is ... um ..."
"Just about the sex, exactly. No matter how much you want it to be intimate it never will be, because we don't like each other."
"I don't want it to be intimate."
Draco laughed harshly. "Oh of course not. Do you think you could get a game where I get to touch you? ... Yes, not craving affection at all. Sad how you come to me for it. Or should that be cum for me for it?"
Harry's faced twisted up angrily. "Do you want me to leave?"
"I'd like to see you try."
He snarled, knowing he couldn't, not like this. "Fuck you."
"Yes, I wish you bloody would, I'm going out of my mind here."
"Good." Harry moved his hands to cup Draco's foot, watching smugly as the blonde head rolled back even further and the back arched.
"So nice."
"I'm not trying to be nice."
"Then you're failing badly."
"I just want to see if I can make you beg."
"You forget how I was the one to win with the chocolates."
"Lucky break."
"Not bloody likely. Not after five years of repressing my sexual desires because they didn't fit in with the rest of the school."
Harry stopped, his eyes moving to look at the unflushed face on the mattress. "So what is this then?"
Draco's smile was back with a hint of smugness. "You're the 'severe lack of options' choice. Just like I am for you." The grey eyes cleared slightly, the look of lust almost gone. "You know, for a boarding school you'd expect there to be more of us."
"Screw you, Malfoy."
"Yes, yes you keep promising, but you don't do anything."
Harry looked down to his hands that were now moving back up Draco's right arm and he paused to wonder why he'd never noticed that Draco's armpits were so smooth and hair-free. It occurred to him that he rarely bothered to pay any attention to anything passed the pleasure he expected to receive while here. If he wasn't so angry right now he would have felt guilty at that, but instead he wrapped his hands around Draco's throat. "Maybe I should screw you over in another way?"
Draco sat up easily, the hands on his throat giving no resistance until he was almost face to face with Harry. "Oh just fuck me, already. I'm dying here." His head tilted as he studied Harry's reaction. "After all, it's not like I said you were a bad 'severe lack of options' choice."
Harry tried not to look at the calm eyes, but he felt some of his anger leave him slowly. Under Draco's skin he could feel his unease and tension about what was happening, what he would let him do and Harry couldn't help but forgive him for everything he'd said so far this evening. "I can't ... I ... don't have anything." He looked to his hands that had slipped down to Draco's chest. "And I can't let go to find something."
"Get on the bed fully."
It was pretty much an order and Harry liked that. It was easier to just do as he was told and not have to work it out for himself. He awkwardly moved to kneel on the bed, hindered by how he couldn't use his hands very well. Draco moved closer, their chests touching so Harry was forced to slide his hands around to his back or risk cracking his wrists. He watched curiously as Draco leaned pass him slightly and to his great surprise, slid the bottom corner bedknob off completely, letting it hit the ground with a clunk. The faintly familiar smell of jam rose up and he flushed harder, a little embarrassed that the smell only made him harder.
"I don't know who designed this bed. I try not to think of what the last occupant used to do." Draco murmured as he swirled his fingers in the hidden substance. "Needless to say this is not the same pot that was here when I moved in."
Harry dropped his head to rest his forehead on Draco's shoulder when he felt the cool, slick fingers slide over his erection, smearing the lubricant over the soft skin. He licked the sweat off of the pale neck, bringing his hand up to sift through the soft blonde hair. He yelped softly when the hand on his cock pulled too hard and he moved so he could look him in the face.
Draco's eyes were almost closed, his head tilted into the hand at the back and he had a faint, slightly dopey smile. Curiously, Harry moved his other hand up, so that both were cupping his head. Draco's eyes opened more, staring up at the ceiling and his lips started to move, not even loud enough to be whispers, as he rambled off something inaudible.
From Harry's point of view it looked as if the boy was praying and it was beautiful to him. He gently pulled Draco's head down for a kiss, firmly pressing his tongue between those teeth and tasting as much as he could. He nearly lost his balance when Draco shifted, foolishly trying to put his hand down on the mattress and almost dragging Draco's face with it.
"Watch it."
"Sorry." His knees were aching from all this kneeling with his weight on his calves and he was sure his feet had already fallen asleep, but now didn't seem the right time to be talking. He wasn't entirely sure how, but Draco had managed to shift so that he was basically sitting in Harry's lap and that was when it got really weird. Draco raised his hands up, between where Harry's arms still were and then used his elbows to push Harry's hands down so they slid to his waist. Slowly Draco leaned back until his back was resting on the mattress, one leg around Harry's back.
"You said you'd fuck me almost half an hour ago."
Harry swallowed nervously and shifted his weight a little when Draco reached back and took hold of his erection, positioning it better. And then he froze. He shook his head slowly at Draco and clenched his teeth. Suddenly he didn't feel very well and there were a few less than wonderful questions racing through his mind. What if he was bad? What if he hurt him? What if it was so awful Draco kicked him out?
"Oh you have to be kidding." Draco sighed and sat up, curving his back so that he could kiss Harry without moving his hips.
Distracted by this, Harry didn't realise what Draco was doing until it was too late. He tried to pull away when he felt Draco pushing down, forcing him in, but the hands holding his shoulders were stronger than they looked. And he wasn't sure he wanted to pull away because it was hot and soft and somehow arousing simply by its feel. But he had to wonder if it hurt because without the use of magic, surely something should have been done before this.
Draco broke the kiss and Harry saw him wince, but instead of stopping all he did was move Harry's hands down, guiding them until they were cupping his arse. He groaned then and not one of pain, collapsing back down on the bed. "Move."
Awkwardly, given their position, Harry obeyed and a deep sigh was a signal that he hadn't managed to mess it up. And he had to admit it felt very good, better than his hand ever had, maybe even better than Draco's mouth. It was certainly tighter than Draco's mouth. He moved again, shifting his hands so they could hold Draco more securely and still spread the clearly enjoyable sensation that they were giving the other boy.
It occurred to him, as he began to move a little faster, that Draco didn't seem as tense as he had earlier. He looked simply relaxed and aroused, all signs of his hesitancy now gone and Harry had to wonder if he'd be like that. Draco hadn't actually fucked him since that first time when they were high. He wasn't sure if that was a good or a bad thing.
Draco's hands had moved to Harry's chest now and his fingers twisted a nipple unexpectedly, causing Harry to lurch slightly. "Fuck me harder."
Harry hissed to hear him say that and complied, figuring Draco knew what he could handle. But he wouldn't be able to go on much longer if he kept it up like this because whatever Draco had smeared over him was starting to tingle in a peculiar way and it was all getting to be a bit too much. He concentrated solely on lasting, trying to deny the building tension in his groin but then Draco let out a deep, shaky groan and compressed his muscles. Harry cringed as that proved enough to tip the balance and he pressed his eyes shut and moaned, emptying himself in the few last thrusts he managed before slumping where he sat.
After taking a few seconds to catch his breath, he shifted, pulling out completely and dragged his hands around to Draco's stomach. The soft blue light stained the skin under his hands like an aura of sorts and he moved them down to the pale thighs. He liked the way Draco squirmed under his touch and let his hands linger there, rubbing them gently. He shifted more to Draco's side and moved his left hand back up to the blonde head, thumb resting over the forehead, momentarily using that for balance as he stretched out to lie down next to him. Leaning in to kiss him one last time, he took pity on the frustrated boy and slid his hand from his thigh to wrap around the straining erection, squeezing probably harder than necessary and making the blue magic spread out.
Draco's reaction was instant. Panting into Harry's kiss, his body twisted and jolted as his orgasm rushed over him. He moaned into Harry's mouth and then sunk into the bed, the hand on his forehead still making his vision blur.
Harry moved both hands to his chest and smiled at Draco's expression. But he felt rather grimy and looked to the bathroom door, wondering if it was worth the effort. The drying semen on his hand suggested it was and he nudged Draco for attention. "I need to let go."
Draco blinked a few times before licking his dry lips. "Xyis."
Harry lifted his hands up and experienced a strange feeling of freedom when none of Draco followed them.
Lazily, Draco snatched at one of them and seemed to easily peel the sticks off one at a time, before gesturing for the other to clear it.
Harry nearly fell over when he tried to stand, his mostly blood-deprived feet not quite steady but he managed to make it to the bathroom without looking too much like a fool. He cleaned himself up as best he could and went back out to collapse on his side of the bed. "You know all that 'be careful what you wish for' stuff? It's a load of crap."
Draco gave a smug smile, apparently too tired to do anything else and already under the covers.
"Malfoy?"
"Mmmm?"
"Thanks."
"Sure." Draco shifted to his side, obviously wanting sleep even more than a shower. "You know, the games aren't a one off thing. We can do them again. I mean, I haven't found a new chocolate supplier yet and I'd have to order more paint, but they are all repeatable."
"You mean make our meetings a more regular ... event?"
"Mmmm."
"I liked the paint. Really liked it."
"I'll get more on Monday."
Done.
| 01) Thirteen Kisses | 02) Twelve Kisses... | 03) Eleven Stones | 04) Ten Touchers | 05) Nine Words | 06) Eight Sticks |