HAPPY H/D HOLIDAYS, MIZBEAN!
Artist: ghot
Recipient: mizbean
Title: Red Wall
Pairing(s): Harry/Draco
Summary: Streets are almost always deserted when it rains.
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters herein are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended.
Warning(s): Frottage, sex in a public place.
Epilogue compliant? Well ( Read more... )
Recipient: mizbean
Title: Red Wall
Pairing(s): Harry/Draco
Summary: Streets are almost always deserted when it rains.
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters herein are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended.
Warning(s): Frottage, sex in a public place.
Epilogue compliant? Well ( Read more... )
"Hurry up," he says mechanically, transfixed by the way Malfoy's chest is moving in and out like an accordion. "Fuck you," Malfoy answers, and then, "fuck you," once more, but his voice is so hoarse it comes out like a plea, and Harry's own chest heaves at that. God, and Malfoy's so polished--nails manicured, eyebrows arched, lashes slung low and dark over his cheeks, mixing with the rain like war paint. He's got his chin tilted just so--like he's been practicing the pose in case he ran into Harry.
Harry doesn't want to think about Malfoy practicing with anyone else, in backalleys or elsewhere, so he snaps, "I said hurry the fuck up," and slips into Malfoy's space to pry his shirt the rest of the way open before Malfoy can do anything about it.
And then he's got Malfoy's slick mouth against his, he's got Malfoy spreading for him everywhere, he's pushing Malfoy's thighs apart with his knees, backing him into the wall, yes, fuck yes, and Malfoy says, "God, yes," and Harry almost laughs because he--he knew this, he's always known this about Malfoy. Surely he's always known this, the way Malfoy responds to Harry's hands on his chest, how Malfoy curves into him like a seashell, his skin just as smooth and pasty wet.
How Malfoy kisses like the surf, like something breaking over Harry in waves; how he cups his fingers around Harry's jaw and kisses him there, too, slow and desperate; how his chest is just heartbeats away from Harry's, how they're pressed so close together Harry can feel every one of them going off like cannon volleys.
And what kills Harry is the way Malfoy's clenching his fucking manicured fingernails around Harry's shoulder, how he's still managing to be so fucking polished and perfect now, and suddenly having it just like this isn't enough, Harry needs more, so much more, more of Malfoy's heat--he needs to fucking wreck him--
and Malfoy fucking whimpers when Harry shoves him back and lifts him up between him and the wall. He's lighter than anyone should be, he feels like he'll break, and that's exactly what Harry wants, he wants to stretch Malfoy til he snaps apart, til he breaks into pieces with Harry tucked right next to him, or against him, or inside him, Harry'll take any of it, all of it, just so long as he can have it, just like this, just exactly fucking like this--
and he's whispering things into the hollow of Malfoy's precious perfect throat, and Malfoy whispers, seashells him right back.
And the rain is washing over Malfoy's perfect pearl skin, and Harry closes his eyes.
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*attempts coherent sentence*
ggggg0y
*fails*
OH MY GOD YES
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an alley so for back even the cats won't come here.
How Malfoy kisses like the surf, like something breaking over Harry in waves
and he's whispering things into the hollow of Malfoy's precious perfect throat, and Malfoy whispers, seashells him right back.
And the rain is washing over Malfoy's perfect pearl skin, and Harry closes his eyes.
Marvellously poetic and deafeningly hot.
ED Yeah. I'm pretty sure I recognize you in the crowd. I was going to say "The author I was thinking of doesn't write H/D. Anymore." *grins* What a lovely thing!
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*dies*
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