Fanfic: Not A Romance
So, this fanfic is pretty bad in any aspect and hasn’t been beta read but I wanted to post it so here we go.
Not a Romance
by me
First Draft: 3. Jan. 2005
Second Draft: 5. Apr. 2006
Genre: Slash, Angst, Smut
Rating: R (just to make sure), but actually just PG-13
Summery: This is not a romance, this is pure attraction. Potter wants Malfoy to scream his name and Malfoy doesn’t believe him. It’s as simple as that. H/D
Warnings: slash, swearing, sexual situation, smoking. I am not promoting smoking, it’s only my plot device. Smoking is bad. Don’t do drugs! (yadda yadda)
Disclaimer: Not mine. I swear!
A/N: In parts II and III I start using italics to distinguish Harry’s action from what he’s telling himself. Don’t get confused!
Part I
The last time I feel so paranoid. Maybe I am just getting insane but I am sure that I heard someone in my room. And this evening when I made a walk I felt somebody following me though I couldn’t see anyone. And now, 2.00 am, I am lying in my bed and can hear the strong winds outside blowing. Everybody else is sleeping except for me of course ‘cause I can’t. Again I hear a howl of some lonely animal in the woods. It scares me slightly. I shouldn’t be anxious, I don’t want to be though there are enough reasons to be afraid. I am supposed to be brave, ain’t I? At the moment it doesn’t look like it though… The third ‘though’… looks like everything contradicts itself. Nothing makes sense. And I am doubting almost everything. Sure, there are things that I cannot doubt, I know who my enemy is. But I can’t let anybody know that I am scared and that I doubt so much. No, it would be worse if they knew. They would try to help me but they can’t. Everything would become even more miserable. I think I can’t stand it anymore. I have to get out. Paradox. Wanna go wandering around though I think to be followed. Paranoid, paradox and perplex. YES. That’s me. Potter. I don’t know maybe people think I am also proud, poor and prude. NO. I am neither proud of being stared at nor am I poor though I am still wearing my cousins stuff. And I am certainly not prude. Honestly. Only because I don’t discuss sex with other boys and don’t wank with them… There is a plausible explanation, you see… I can’t do such things with other boys because they might notice that I would enjoy doing other things with them as well. Oh screw it. Or better, screw them. Here come the truth so pay attention: I, Harry James Potter, the boy who happens to be alive, the great hero and future saviour of the wizarding world, am gay. Yes, you heard me right. I fancy boys. So what? Now, Rita Skeeter would sell her soul to the devil for such a piece of information. What would the others say? Would they be disgusted, would they accept it? Would they even support me? I don’t care as long as they don’t ask me who I fancy. And yes, I do fancy someone. To be more specific… HIM. It’s as simple as that. You’d think that there are enough nice chaps around Hogwarts but I don’t want anyone nice. This is about pure attraction. Sorry but I am not a romantic … anymore. And there is only one person in the whole school who I want so badly that it hurts. I want his pale skin, his silky hair, I want to stare into his eyes and drown in them. Okay maybe I am still some kind of romantic. I want him to scream my name. You see, this is not love. This is hatred. I hate him. I loathe him. I do but I love the passion it results in. We are not talking about real love here. It’s just my horniness and Draco Malfoy’s good looks.
I must be a masochist or have a secret suicide wish. You see, I am gonna tell him. Yes, I know it’s stupid. I know that I have no chance. But I have to do it or I am gonna suffocate.
Part II
I am walking down the hundredth corridor by now. This truly sucks. I want to do something. Something that I want to do all by myself. I am not a pawn. I am not a slave to sex, either for that matter. I want to do something. Now.
Well, here comes corridor number 102. I am in the dungeons now. I am such a masochist it’s unbelievable. I always thought that trouble finds me but at the moment it looks like I am looking for trouble. I’ve gotten so used to it maybe I am missing it… out of habit of course.
I hear the wind outside. Again. As if it wants to remind me that no one would go out now. Except for me of course. I must be losing my sanity. I go around another corner and look what fate chose to do to me. Draco Malfoy. Malfoy is here right in front of me. Malfoy is smoking in the dark. Okay, Potter. Now or never.
‘Hey Malfoy.’
He looks up, smoke is coming out of his mouth, he looks so arrogant.
Now or never, now or never, now or … maybe later?
‘Mind if I stay?’
He looks at me as if I’ve lost my mind.
‘Losing sanity isn’t that bad.’
Oh no. Did I just say that out loud?
Malfoy smirks. His smirk used to be ugly but it isn’t anymore. To me it’s sexy in a twisted way but anything is twisted in my mind nowadays. Okay, lunatic, just go to him and keep cool. And that’s what I do. I ask him for his cigarette. He chuckles.
‘Potter, you don’t smoke.’, he states matter-of-factly.
‘Why’d’you think that?’
‘Potter, you are the good guy.’
Something about the way he says my name sends a shiver through my spine. Keep cool. Another smirk appears on his face or is it a smile?
‘What are you smiling at?’, I ask.
His face turns serious. ‘Malfoys never smile.’
‘And do they smoke with Gryffindors?’
‘I’m not sure. The Gryffindor part might be problematic.’
‘Then forget about the Gryffindor part of me and concentrate on the small but yet existent Slytherin part hidden deep down in my dark soul.’
Did that sound good or pathetic? Is it that obvious I crave this bastard, his pointy face and sharp tongue…
His eye brows go up as if he is not quite sure what I am babbling about.
‘You know, Malfoy, back then at the Sorting, the hat was quite convinced that I belonged in Slytherin.’
‘Ha, I don’t believe you. You are the model Gryffindor.’
‘Bloody hell, I don’t wanna be a model anything. So will you give me that fag or not, for fuck’s sake!’
He looks a little bit impressed and holds his hand with the cigarette in front of my face. I take it, inhale and … start coughing like hell. Not so cool after all, am I? He is smiling again. I am clever enough not to mention it though. I try to keep my dignity and tell him nonchalantly that I will skip smoking and take the next step.
‘Potter’, he says, I want to hear him scream it out loud. ‘What are you on about?’
‘I wish I’d know.’
Malfoy looks annoyed, I know that because he always looks like this when he’s irritated and that happens often enough in my presence.
‘Potter! Stop being so bloody … paradox!’
I let out a gasp of astonishment. Did he read my mind? I can’t resist, I have to smile. An evil smile. Hopefully a sexy smile. He is so tempting, I might try to tempt fate.
‘Wow, there actually is something we agree on.’
‘I don’t know what’s up with you but it irritates me.’
‘I see that.’
Oh yes and if he goes on looking that irritated I might molest him. So much for ‘not a slave to sex’.
‘Listen, Malfoy, I am sort of lost and …’
‘You are in the dungeons. Do you need a map to get to the Gryffindor Tower? I know you’re not the brightest but you’ve been living here long enough!’
‘You love being witty, don’t you?’
‘Well, Malfoys are witty. We are born witty!’
Yeah, among other things. What am I doing? I want to tell him but I can’t.
‘I don’t know. That’s the problem. I think I’m going crazy. If I’m lucky it’s only an identity crisis.’
‘You are going mad. So what? What does that have to do with me?’
I look at him. I try to smirk. No one can do that the way he does. I can’t keep my eyes off him. What am I trying to find in his eyes?
‘You don’t know? You are the self-centred git here. It’s always about you! You are the trigger, the reason and the consequence!’
‘I’m flattered. Does that mean you are fancying me?’
I can hear the sarcasm in his voice. He thinks it’s a joke. I wanna see surprise in those gorgeous eyes.
‘As a matter of fact, I do.’
Oh, I should have practised my evil grin. I am gonna need it. He looks lovely when he’s confused. His lips curl in puzzlement, his eyebrows curve and his hand starts playing with his hair. He closes his eyes probably in hope that it is only a bad dream. So sorry, Malfoy, but this nightmare is called life. He opens his eyes, now he’s staring ate me. He let’s out a breath that he’s been holding for far too long.
‘What?’, he shouts at me.
‘You heard me right.’
‘Okay, I’ve had enough! I’m leaving.’
He stalks off leaving his burning cigarette behind.
Not a good sign, I guess.
Part III
Another day has passed me by. I am here again, in the dungeons. I have returned to the scene of crime. I have no idea what has been going on today because I kept thinking about him and the shock on his pretty face. Was it too much for him? I haven’t seen him since then. I felt him or someone watching me but that might be the usual paranoia.
‘Did you mean it?’
I turn towards the voice behind me. It’s him of course, who else?
‘Yes.’ As simple as that.
‘I don’t believe you.’
I start moving in his direction, I don’t care whether he believes me or not. I am gonna make him believe. I don’t stop advancing until we are only inches apart. He doesn’t move away. He’s not even flinching. I’m looking straight into his eyes. I won’t say anything anymore. The only thing I wanna hear is him. I feel nefarious and I still want him to scream my name. I can feel his breath on my lips, it’s uneven. His stare is unwavering but I know that he’s nervous. He doesn’t want me to know because for him everything is a competition. Have it your way. I am gonna challenge you. No more words. Only actions shall follow because it makes no sense to suppress the urge. I yield for him and I want to succumb.
I kiss him, as simple as that. Our lips meet, I take his neck with my hands. At first he tries to resist but his resistance fades away quickly and passion takes over both of us. Our tongues are battling however after a while the kiss becomes slower, it’s rather a dance than a fight. He is touching my chest, his moans reveal that he’s always wanted to feel it. Two can play this game. I run my fingers through his hair. I’ve imagined it so many times but reality is different. Good yet dirty. Not his hair of course. All of this feels dirty and wrong. This is not a romance, this is pure attraction as I’ve said. And I love it, the sweat, the silent gasps and moans, the never breaking contact, the rampant lust… Oh god, that felt amazing!
I lick his neck, my tongue has never tasted anything quite like his skin. It seems to be intoxicating and addictive. Finally my secret wet dream comes true.
‘POTTER!’, he screams. No pride, no vanity, no disdain is left.
That’s it. No more thinking! I have more important things to focus on, more flesh to explore and I certainly don’t care where his shirt has gone.
‘Malfoy…’, I moan before I go down and enjoy.
The End.
P.S.: Use your dirty imagination! =P
Not a Romance
by me
First Draft: 3. Jan. 2005
Second Draft: 5. Apr. 2006
Genre: Slash, Angst, Smut
Rating: R (just to make sure), but actually just PG-13
Summery: This is not a romance, this is pure attraction. Potter wants Malfoy to scream his name and Malfoy doesn’t believe him. It’s as simple as that. H/D
Warnings: slash, swearing, sexual situation, smoking. I am not promoting smoking, it’s only my plot device. Smoking is bad. Don’t do drugs! (yadda yadda)
Disclaimer: Not mine. I swear!
A/N: In parts II and III I start using italics to distinguish Harry’s action from what he’s telling himself. Don’t get confused!
Part I
The last time I feel so paranoid. Maybe I am just getting insane but I am sure that I heard someone in my room. And this evening when I made a walk I felt somebody following me though I couldn’t see anyone. And now, 2.00 am, I am lying in my bed and can hear the strong winds outside blowing. Everybody else is sleeping except for me of course ‘cause I can’t. Again I hear a howl of some lonely animal in the woods. It scares me slightly. I shouldn’t be anxious, I don’t want to be though there are enough reasons to be afraid. I am supposed to be brave, ain’t I? At the moment it doesn’t look like it though… The third ‘though’… looks like everything contradicts itself. Nothing makes sense. And I am doubting almost everything. Sure, there are things that I cannot doubt, I know who my enemy is. But I can’t let anybody know that I am scared and that I doubt so much. No, it would be worse if they knew. They would try to help me but they can’t. Everything would become even more miserable. I think I can’t stand it anymore. I have to get out. Paradox. Wanna go wandering around though I think to be followed. Paranoid, paradox and perplex. YES. That’s me. Potter. I don’t know maybe people think I am also proud, poor and prude. NO. I am neither proud of being stared at nor am I poor though I am still wearing my cousins stuff. And I am certainly not prude. Honestly. Only because I don’t discuss sex with other boys and don’t wank with them… There is a plausible explanation, you see… I can’t do such things with other boys because they might notice that I would enjoy doing other things with them as well. Oh screw it. Or better, screw them. Here come the truth so pay attention: I, Harry James Potter, the boy who happens to be alive, the great hero and future saviour of the wizarding world, am gay. Yes, you heard me right. I fancy boys. So what? Now, Rita Skeeter would sell her soul to the devil for such a piece of information. What would the others say? Would they be disgusted, would they accept it? Would they even support me? I don’t care as long as they don’t ask me who I fancy. And yes, I do fancy someone. To be more specific… HIM. It’s as simple as that. You’d think that there are enough nice chaps around Hogwarts but I don’t want anyone nice. This is about pure attraction. Sorry but I am not a romantic … anymore. And there is only one person in the whole school who I want so badly that it hurts. I want his pale skin, his silky hair, I want to stare into his eyes and drown in them. Okay maybe I am still some kind of romantic. I want him to scream my name. You see, this is not love. This is hatred. I hate him. I loathe him. I do but I love the passion it results in. We are not talking about real love here. It’s just my horniness and Draco Malfoy’s good looks.
I must be a masochist or have a secret suicide wish. You see, I am gonna tell him. Yes, I know it’s stupid. I know that I have no chance. But I have to do it or I am gonna suffocate.
Part II
I am walking down the hundredth corridor by now. This truly sucks. I want to do something. Something that I want to do all by myself. I am not a pawn. I am not a slave to sex, either for that matter. I want to do something. Now.
Well, here comes corridor number 102. I am in the dungeons now. I am such a masochist it’s unbelievable. I always thought that trouble finds me but at the moment it looks like I am looking for trouble. I’ve gotten so used to it maybe I am missing it… out of habit of course.
I hear the wind outside. Again. As if it wants to remind me that no one would go out now. Except for me of course. I must be losing my sanity. I go around another corner and look what fate chose to do to me. Draco Malfoy. Malfoy is here right in front of me. Malfoy is smoking in the dark. Okay, Potter. Now or never.
‘Hey Malfoy.’
He looks up, smoke is coming out of his mouth, he looks so arrogant.
Now or never, now or never, now or … maybe later?
‘Mind if I stay?’
He looks at me as if I’ve lost my mind.
‘Losing sanity isn’t that bad.’
Oh no. Did I just say that out loud?
Malfoy smirks. His smirk used to be ugly but it isn’t anymore. To me it’s sexy in a twisted way but anything is twisted in my mind nowadays. Okay, lunatic, just go to him and keep cool. And that’s what I do. I ask him for his cigarette. He chuckles.
‘Potter, you don’t smoke.’, he states matter-of-factly.
‘Why’d’you think that?’
‘Potter, you are the good guy.’
Something about the way he says my name sends a shiver through my spine. Keep cool. Another smirk appears on his face or is it a smile?
‘What are you smiling at?’, I ask.
His face turns serious. ‘Malfoys never smile.’
‘And do they smoke with Gryffindors?’
‘I’m not sure. The Gryffindor part might be problematic.’
‘Then forget about the Gryffindor part of me and concentrate on the small but yet existent Slytherin part hidden deep down in my dark soul.’
Did that sound good or pathetic? Is it that obvious I crave this bastard, his pointy face and sharp tongue…
His eye brows go up as if he is not quite sure what I am babbling about.
‘You know, Malfoy, back then at the Sorting, the hat was quite convinced that I belonged in Slytherin.’
‘Ha, I don’t believe you. You are the model Gryffindor.’
‘Bloody hell, I don’t wanna be a model anything. So will you give me that fag or not, for fuck’s sake!’
He looks a little bit impressed and holds his hand with the cigarette in front of my face. I take it, inhale and … start coughing like hell. Not so cool after all, am I? He is smiling again. I am clever enough not to mention it though. I try to keep my dignity and tell him nonchalantly that I will skip smoking and take the next step.
‘Potter’, he says, I want to hear him scream it out loud. ‘What are you on about?’
‘I wish I’d know.’
Malfoy looks annoyed, I know that because he always looks like this when he’s irritated and that happens often enough in my presence.
‘Potter! Stop being so bloody … paradox!’
I let out a gasp of astonishment. Did he read my mind? I can’t resist, I have to smile. An evil smile. Hopefully a sexy smile. He is so tempting, I might try to tempt fate.
‘Wow, there actually is something we agree on.’
‘I don’t know what’s up with you but it irritates me.’
‘I see that.’
Oh yes and if he goes on looking that irritated I might molest him. So much for ‘not a slave to sex’.
‘Listen, Malfoy, I am sort of lost and …’
‘You are in the dungeons. Do you need a map to get to the Gryffindor Tower? I know you’re not the brightest but you’ve been living here long enough!’
‘You love being witty, don’t you?’
‘Well, Malfoys are witty. We are born witty!’
Yeah, among other things. What am I doing? I want to tell him but I can’t.
‘I don’t know. That’s the problem. I think I’m going crazy. If I’m lucky it’s only an identity crisis.’
‘You are going mad. So what? What does that have to do with me?’
I look at him. I try to smirk. No one can do that the way he does. I can’t keep my eyes off him. What am I trying to find in his eyes?
‘You don’t know? You are the self-centred git here. It’s always about you! You are the trigger, the reason and the consequence!’
‘I’m flattered. Does that mean you are fancying me?’
I can hear the sarcasm in his voice. He thinks it’s a joke. I wanna see surprise in those gorgeous eyes.
‘As a matter of fact, I do.’
Oh, I should have practised my evil grin. I am gonna need it. He looks lovely when he’s confused. His lips curl in puzzlement, his eyebrows curve and his hand starts playing with his hair. He closes his eyes probably in hope that it is only a bad dream. So sorry, Malfoy, but this nightmare is called life. He opens his eyes, now he’s staring ate me. He let’s out a breath that he’s been holding for far too long.
‘What?’, he shouts at me.
‘You heard me right.’
‘Okay, I’ve had enough! I’m leaving.’
He stalks off leaving his burning cigarette behind.
Not a good sign, I guess.
Part III
Another day has passed me by. I am here again, in the dungeons. I have returned to the scene of crime. I have no idea what has been going on today because I kept thinking about him and the shock on his pretty face. Was it too much for him? I haven’t seen him since then. I felt him or someone watching me but that might be the usual paranoia.
‘Did you mean it?’
I turn towards the voice behind me. It’s him of course, who else?
‘Yes.’ As simple as that.
‘I don’t believe you.’
I start moving in his direction, I don’t care whether he believes me or not. I am gonna make him believe. I don’t stop advancing until we are only inches apart. He doesn’t move away. He’s not even flinching. I’m looking straight into his eyes. I won’t say anything anymore. The only thing I wanna hear is him. I feel nefarious and I still want him to scream my name. I can feel his breath on my lips, it’s uneven. His stare is unwavering but I know that he’s nervous. He doesn’t want me to know because for him everything is a competition. Have it your way. I am gonna challenge you. No more words. Only actions shall follow because it makes no sense to suppress the urge. I yield for him and I want to succumb.
I kiss him, as simple as that. Our lips meet, I take his neck with my hands. At first he tries to resist but his resistance fades away quickly and passion takes over both of us. Our tongues are battling however after a while the kiss becomes slower, it’s rather a dance than a fight. He is touching my chest, his moans reveal that he’s always wanted to feel it. Two can play this game. I run my fingers through his hair. I’ve imagined it so many times but reality is different. Good yet dirty. Not his hair of course. All of this feels dirty and wrong. This is not a romance, this is pure attraction as I’ve said. And I love it, the sweat, the silent gasps and moans, the never breaking contact, the rampant lust… Oh god, that felt amazing!
I lick his neck, my tongue has never tasted anything quite like his skin. It seems to be intoxicating and addictive. Finally my secret wet dream comes true.
‘POTTER!’, he screams. No pride, no vanity, no disdain is left.
That’s it. No more thinking! I have more important things to focus on, more flesh to explore and I certainly don’t care where his shirt has gone.
‘Malfoy…’, I moan before I go down and enjoy.
The End.
P.S.: Use your dirty imagination! =P