PinkElephant42: Lies (Harry/Draco)/Night-Terrors (Harry/Draco)
Author: PinkElephant42
Title: Lie
Rating: nc-17
Prompt: #10 intoxicated
Date: 07/01/06
Summary: Harry seduces Draco to get information … just another excuse for smut, really.
Pairing(s): Harry/Draco
Warning: Yummy Slashy Sexiness
Also for the 100quills prompt ‘heartless.’
His scent, his body, his eyes, everything about Draco Malfoy is intoxicating, but I can’t let all of that seduce me.
I kiss him harshly, teeth biting at soft skin, lips caressing in warm comfort. He melts into my touch, allowing the combination of pain and pleasure wash over him, cloud his senses.
I tell him I love him. It’s a lie.
I run my hands across his chest, down his toned abdomen, until I reach his waiting erection. He gasps as I wrap my fist around it, pump him slowly and deliberately, all the planting passionate kisses on any piece of pale skin I find.
“Where is it?” I whisper in his ear. “If I can find it we can end all of this crap, and I can be all yours, forever.” This is also a lie.
“Ugnn,” he replies incoherently.
His hands tangle in my hair and he bucks his hips. I know he wants more, but I’m not ready to give it to him yet. This is about breaking Draco Malfoy, after all.
Traditional methods of questioning and torture don’t work with him, and the Order has resorted to this. I suppose with a Death Eater for a father, he was desensitized to pain at a young age. But love seems to be rare in his life.
I move between his legs and lift his knees. I lick the tip of his penis, then slide down to his balls, and finally his puckered opening. He moans and allows me to do whatever I want to him. It seems so unlike Malfoy to be this submissive in bed, but it works to my advantage.
It didn’t start like this. We had him in the imprisonment cell for a long time, unable to get anything out of him. Then one night I got madly drunk, and accosted him. That night, he revealed to me some of Voldemort’s plans. Lucky the room was bugged, because I hardly remember any of it.
I spread lube on my erection, and inside of Malfoy, then slowly press into him. He responds willingly as I repeatedly pull out and slam back into him. He looks amazing writing beneath me, and I have to remind myself again not to let that cloud my senses.
I accosted him the next night, sober. He was still responsive. I insisted I take him to Grimmauld Place with me. I gave him a comfortable room, locked him in, and told him that although he was still a prisoner, every night, I belonged to him.
I stop just before he reaches orgasm. I pull almost all the way out of him. He is so painfully close, and he begs me to keep going.
“Where is it?” I ask again.
“Gaunts,” he says. I can tell he’s not going to give up any more, and the name Gaunt is enough to give us a lead. I pound into him, and soon we are both gone in the pleasure of it all.
He protests. During the day, he stomps around the room, refuses to eat or talk, but the moment I go to him, naked and willing, all of that is forgotten. I tell him we are protecting him, and he agrees, because he needs me now.
It’s too bad that all of this is a lie, because if we had met under different circumstances I could have just let myself be intoxicated by him.
---
Author: PinkElephant42
Title: Night-Terrors
Rating: PG
Prompt: #14 break
Date: 07/01/06
Summary: Harry takes
Pairing(s): Harry/Draco
Word Count: 1800
A/N: Um, this probably need serious editing, but I like the idea of it. I think I’m going to add to it and make it a multi-chapter thing, and do a bit more research. It feels like it’s missing stuff.
Also written for the 100quills prompt ‘Despair.’
Harry woke up with a start, breathing hard. He’d had another nightmare. Shit.
Next to him, his boyfriend shifted, and a moment later Draco’s groggy voice said, “Harry? What happened?”
“Don’t worry, love. I just had a bad dream,” Harry explained.
Draco sat up worriedly. “Another one?”
“Yeah, but… look, don’t worry. I’ll be fine.” He leaned against Draco and nuzzled his neck lovingly. Draco wrapped his arms protectively around Harry.
---
“I don’t understand, Severus. The Dark Lord is dead, has been for years. Why is Harry having these nightmares now?” Draco paced the little room.
“Why do you come to me with such inane problems? I don’t know, nor do I care, why your… partner… is having these dreams. Now unless you have something important to discuss, I suggest you get out of my office.” Severus went back to the book he had been reading before Draco had flooed in and interrupted him.
“Can’t you brew a potion for him? Something that will help him sleep? He’s been miserable for days now,” Draco pleaded. This went entirely against his nature, but he knew that at the moment, it was the best way to get through to his godfather.
Severus slammed the book closed irritably. “Drought of Dreamless Sleep. Come back in two days, and it will be ready for you.”
“Two days!” Draco cried.
“You, of all people, should know these things take time. Now go, and if you ever floo in unexpectedly again I’ll charm my fireplace to trap and burn you.” They both knew it was an empty threat. Severus had a soft spot for Draco, no matter what the spoiled child did.
---
When Draco went home, he found Harry attempting to eat. Mostly, however, he was just pushing the food around his plate. Draco sat down across from him and took the hand that wansn’t busy with the whole not-eating thing.
“Hey, love,” he said.
Harry looked up, and Draco could see tears in his eyes. He brought Harry’s fingers to his lips and kissed them. “What do you dream about?”
“The war,” Harry said in a voice that was barely above a whisper.
“That’s always your answer. I know there’s more to it. Why won’t you tell me?” Draco fought the urge to yell at Harry. Didn’t Harry trust him, and didn’t he think this whole ordeal was hard on him too? He felt so helpless.
Harry dropped the fork and rubbed at his eyes, knocking his glasses off his nose. They hit the edge of the table and fell the floor, but neither boy made a move to retrieve them.
“You die,” Harry said, and then broke into sobs. “I- I dream… every night… that you… that you…”
Initially, Draco was shocked at these words. He didn’t take time to dwell on them, however, because his boyfriend needed him. He got up and pulled Harry into a hug.
“It’s okay, I’m here,” he said soothingly. He was never very good at comforting words, and he was just winging this. He supposed if he ran out of words, kisses would have to do. He had plenty of those to give.
Harry cried into Draco’s robes, clutching tightly to his arms. Draco let him, trying not to think about the fact that these, like most of his robes, were custom-made with expensive fabrics. Harry was more important.
“I’m here, I’m not…” Draco couldn’t bring himself to say, dead. “I’m alive.”
He felt Harry nod against his chest, and Draco let him cry for a few more minutes. Finally, frustrated, feeling like he wasn’t helping at all, Draco pulled an arm from Harry’s grasp, and placed a hand under his chin. He lifted Harry’s head so he was looking strait into those big, tear-filled green eyes. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“I know,” Harry said, rather unconvincingly.
---
The next two nights weren’t any better for the couple, despite Draco’s words of reassurance and some good sex. Draco was grateful when Severus handed him a few bottles of the potion.
“Don’t let him take more than two doses a night,” Severus warned.
Draco thanked him and Severus scowled.
“If the dreams continue, I suggest you find him some professional help at St. Mungo’s,” Severus said.
Draco frowned. “I’d like to think he doesn’t need it.”
Severus nodded, and Draco left before he could say anything else.
---
That night Harry took the suggested amount of the potion. Draco watched his boyfriend fall asleep. He looked peaceful, so he allowed sleep to take him as well.
He was awoken several hours later when he was hit in the face. He clutched his nose in pain as he rolled over. Harry was thrashing about, tangled in the sheets.
The sight of his boyfriend in such distress had a sobering effect on Draco’s still-sleepy mind. He grabbed Harry’s arms and called his name.
“Harry!” No response. Draco shook him until he woke up. “Harry!”
“What?” Harry jerked awake, and sat up a bit too fast. He was dizzy and breathless. Draco’s worried face loomed above him, and he sank into the waiting arms.
“He killed you,” Harry said. “And he was going to kill me too, but he thought it would be more fun to watch me go crazy.”
“Who?” Draco asked.
“You know,” Harry replied.
Voldemort.
---
Harry didn’t sleep the rest of that night, or the next. He was becoming sullen, jittery, and irritable. It was tearing Draco apart to see him like this, so he gave Harry a double dose of the potion.
Harry gratefully accepted, and fell into a thankfully dreamless sleep that lasted the whole night.
---
“We need more Drought of Dreamless Sleep,” Draco said.
Severus raised an eyebrow. The blonde had once again flooed in uninvited and unannounced, and now he was making stupid demands.
“He can’t possibly have run out already,” Severus replied.
“It’s helping,” Draco said.
“How much has he been taking each night?” Severus demanded.
“It depends on how he’s feeling. If he’s down or something, the dreams are more likely to come.” Draco avoided Severus’ eyes.
“How much, Draco?” he said more firmly.
“Two or three doses a night. Sometimes the nightmares come anyway, and he takes another before morning.” He knew he shouldn’t have let Harry take that much, but he hated seeing the guy he loved in such a state.
“Idiot!” Severus snapped. “Have you no common sense? Take him to St. Mungo’s.”
“Give me the potion,” Draco said.
“No,” Severus looked Draco strait in the eye, challenging him. “He’s sick. He needs help.”
“My boyfriend is not sick or crazy or any other stupid idea you may come up with. We can handle it, just give me the potion.” Draco held out his hand.
Severus crossed his arms in front of him. “Stop being a brat. If you feel so strongly for him, you’ll do what’s best for him.”
“I’m what’s best for him, not some incompetent team of medi-wizards. What can they do for him anyway?” Draco said.
“Get him off the potion. Psychological studies. This doesn’t seem like something that’s just going to go away, especially if it’s getting worse despite the potion.” Severus had a point.
“But…” Draco realized that he didn’t have a good enough argument, and anything he said would make him sound like a selfish prat. He scowled as he threw the powder into the floo and disappeared.
---
“Don’t worry, Harry, this will only be for a short time.” Draco kissed the fingers of the hand he was holding.
“I won’t get to sleep with you tonight,” Harry said from the St. Mungo’s bed.
“I know. But Severus says these people will be able to get rid of the nightmares,” Draco replied.
“You know I don’t trust him,” Harry replied.
“But I do,” Draco countered.
Harry decided he was too tired to argue about it.
---
“When was the first time you had a nightmare like this?” the Medi-Wizard asked.
His name was Michael, and he wasn’t exactly forthcoming with information. Draco didn’t like him. Despite all the questions Draco had, Michael never gave a solid answer.
“I’ve been having them my whole life. I’m Harry Potter, remember?” Harry pointed to his scar. Michael gave him a look that said he wasn’t amused, and Harry elaborated. “They get more intense during times of stress, but after the war they faded. I thought they were gone.”
“Do you see memories or new things? How distorted is the reality?”
“Both, and not very.”
“Can you give me some of the dominant imagery?”
Harry hesitated, and Draco shifted in his seat.
“I see the war. The battles. Voldemort. The Triwizard Tournament. People… dying.” Harry choked on his words, and couldn’t continue.
“People you know or not?”
“Both.” Harry’s eyes shot over to Draco. Draco gave him a reassuring face, but didn’t say anything because he had been berated several times already for interrupting.
Michael noticed the non-verbal exchange. “Elaborate.”
“Surely the people I’ve seen die in my life isn’t important to this session.”
“Why did you look at him?” He gestured to Draco.
“Because he’s my boyfriend, and this is a difficult topic,” Harry said after a beat.
“Right. I think we’re done for today.” Michael closed the notebook he had been writing in, recognizing that he wouldn’t be getting any more useful information from Harry at the moment.
“I’d like to sleep,” Harry said before he left.
“Alright,” Michael replied. He continued to the door, but was stopped again by Draco.
“He means, he wants some Drought of Dreamless Sleep.”
“We can’t give him that,” Michael said. “He can have a calming drought, but nothing too strong.”
By the time Michael came back with the calming drought, Draco was seething.
“I’m one of the richest wizards in England! If my boyfriend wants a certain potion, he will get it,” Draco threatened.
“Money isn’t going to restore Harry’s health, Mr. Malfoy,” Michael said coldly.
Draco was left speechless.
---
After that Draco became more cooperative with the medi-wizards, and Harry’s condition began to improve.
“So I had a horrible guilt-complex and an addiction to Dreamless Sleep,” Harry concluded just before they left St. Mungo’s. “Not to mention the fear that Voldemort will come back every ten years or so.”
Harry smiled, tried to make a joke of it, but Draco knew him better than that. He pulled Harry into a hug. “If you ever feel so helpless again, let me know, okay?”
“Yeah,” Harry said, hugging him back. “I will.”
Title: Lie
Rating: nc-17
Prompt: #10 intoxicated
Date: 07/01/06
Summary: Harry seduces Draco to get information … just another excuse for smut, really.
Pairing(s): Harry/Draco
Warning: Yummy Slashy Sexiness
Also for the 100quills prompt ‘heartless.’
His scent, his body, his eyes, everything about Draco Malfoy is intoxicating, but I can’t let all of that seduce me.
I kiss him harshly, teeth biting at soft skin, lips caressing in warm comfort. He melts into my touch, allowing the combination of pain and pleasure wash over him, cloud his senses.
I tell him I love him. It’s a lie.
I run my hands across his chest, down his toned abdomen, until I reach his waiting erection. He gasps as I wrap my fist around it, pump him slowly and deliberately, all the planting passionate kisses on any piece of pale skin I find.
“Where is it?” I whisper in his ear. “If I can find it we can end all of this crap, and I can be all yours, forever.” This is also a lie.
“Ugnn,” he replies incoherently.
His hands tangle in my hair and he bucks his hips. I know he wants more, but I’m not ready to give it to him yet. This is about breaking Draco Malfoy, after all.
Traditional methods of questioning and torture don’t work with him, and the Order has resorted to this. I suppose with a Death Eater for a father, he was desensitized to pain at a young age. But love seems to be rare in his life.
I move between his legs and lift his knees. I lick the tip of his penis, then slide down to his balls, and finally his puckered opening. He moans and allows me to do whatever I want to him. It seems so unlike Malfoy to be this submissive in bed, but it works to my advantage.
It didn’t start like this. We had him in the imprisonment cell for a long time, unable to get anything out of him. Then one night I got madly drunk, and accosted him. That night, he revealed to me some of Voldemort’s plans. Lucky the room was bugged, because I hardly remember any of it.
I spread lube on my erection, and inside of Malfoy, then slowly press into him. He responds willingly as I repeatedly pull out and slam back into him. He looks amazing writing beneath me, and I have to remind myself again not to let that cloud my senses.
I accosted him the next night, sober. He was still responsive. I insisted I take him to Grimmauld Place with me. I gave him a comfortable room, locked him in, and told him that although he was still a prisoner, every night, I belonged to him.
I stop just before he reaches orgasm. I pull almost all the way out of him. He is so painfully close, and he begs me to keep going.
“Where is it?” I ask again.
“Gaunts,” he says. I can tell he’s not going to give up any more, and the name Gaunt is enough to give us a lead. I pound into him, and soon we are both gone in the pleasure of it all.
He protests. During the day, he stomps around the room, refuses to eat or talk, but the moment I go to him, naked and willing, all of that is forgotten. I tell him we are protecting him, and he agrees, because he needs me now.
It’s too bad that all of this is a lie, because if we had met under different circumstances I could have just let myself be intoxicated by him.
---
Author: PinkElephant42
Title: Night-Terrors
Rating: PG
Prompt: #14 break
Date: 07/01/06
Summary: Harry takes
Pairing(s): Harry/Draco
Word Count: 1800
A/N: Um, this probably need serious editing, but I like the idea of it. I think I’m going to add to it and make it a multi-chapter thing, and do a bit more research. It feels like it’s missing stuff.
Also written for the 100quills prompt ‘Despair.’
Harry woke up with a start, breathing hard. He’d had another nightmare. Shit.
Next to him, his boyfriend shifted, and a moment later Draco’s groggy voice said, “Harry? What happened?”
“Don’t worry, love. I just had a bad dream,” Harry explained.
Draco sat up worriedly. “Another one?”
“Yeah, but… look, don’t worry. I’ll be fine.” He leaned against Draco and nuzzled his neck lovingly. Draco wrapped his arms protectively around Harry.
---
“I don’t understand, Severus. The Dark Lord is dead, has been for years. Why is Harry having these nightmares now?” Draco paced the little room.
“Why do you come to me with such inane problems? I don’t know, nor do I care, why your… partner… is having these dreams. Now unless you have something important to discuss, I suggest you get out of my office.” Severus went back to the book he had been reading before Draco had flooed in and interrupted him.
“Can’t you brew a potion for him? Something that will help him sleep? He’s been miserable for days now,” Draco pleaded. This went entirely against his nature, but he knew that at the moment, it was the best way to get through to his godfather.
Severus slammed the book closed irritably. “Drought of Dreamless Sleep. Come back in two days, and it will be ready for you.”
“Two days!” Draco cried.
“You, of all people, should know these things take time. Now go, and if you ever floo in unexpectedly again I’ll charm my fireplace to trap and burn you.” They both knew it was an empty threat. Severus had a soft spot for Draco, no matter what the spoiled child did.
---
When Draco went home, he found Harry attempting to eat. Mostly, however, he was just pushing the food around his plate. Draco sat down across from him and took the hand that wansn’t busy with the whole not-eating thing.
“Hey, love,” he said.
Harry looked up, and Draco could see tears in his eyes. He brought Harry’s fingers to his lips and kissed them. “What do you dream about?”
“The war,” Harry said in a voice that was barely above a whisper.
“That’s always your answer. I know there’s more to it. Why won’t you tell me?” Draco fought the urge to yell at Harry. Didn’t Harry trust him, and didn’t he think this whole ordeal was hard on him too? He felt so helpless.
Harry dropped the fork and rubbed at his eyes, knocking his glasses off his nose. They hit the edge of the table and fell the floor, but neither boy made a move to retrieve them.
“You die,” Harry said, and then broke into sobs. “I- I dream… every night… that you… that you…”
Initially, Draco was shocked at these words. He didn’t take time to dwell on them, however, because his boyfriend needed him. He got up and pulled Harry into a hug.
“It’s okay, I’m here,” he said soothingly. He was never very good at comforting words, and he was just winging this. He supposed if he ran out of words, kisses would have to do. He had plenty of those to give.
Harry cried into Draco’s robes, clutching tightly to his arms. Draco let him, trying not to think about the fact that these, like most of his robes, were custom-made with expensive fabrics. Harry was more important.
“I’m here, I’m not…” Draco couldn’t bring himself to say, dead. “I’m alive.”
He felt Harry nod against his chest, and Draco let him cry for a few more minutes. Finally, frustrated, feeling like he wasn’t helping at all, Draco pulled an arm from Harry’s grasp, and placed a hand under his chin. He lifted Harry’s head so he was looking strait into those big, tear-filled green eyes. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“I know,” Harry said, rather unconvincingly.
---
The next two nights weren’t any better for the couple, despite Draco’s words of reassurance and some good sex. Draco was grateful when Severus handed him a few bottles of the potion.
“Don’t let him take more than two doses a night,” Severus warned.
Draco thanked him and Severus scowled.
“If the dreams continue, I suggest you find him some professional help at St. Mungo’s,” Severus said.
Draco frowned. “I’d like to think he doesn’t need it.”
Severus nodded, and Draco left before he could say anything else.
---
That night Harry took the suggested amount of the potion. Draco watched his boyfriend fall asleep. He looked peaceful, so he allowed sleep to take him as well.
He was awoken several hours later when he was hit in the face. He clutched his nose in pain as he rolled over. Harry was thrashing about, tangled in the sheets.
The sight of his boyfriend in such distress had a sobering effect on Draco’s still-sleepy mind. He grabbed Harry’s arms and called his name.
“Harry!” No response. Draco shook him until he woke up. “Harry!”
“What?” Harry jerked awake, and sat up a bit too fast. He was dizzy and breathless. Draco’s worried face loomed above him, and he sank into the waiting arms.
“He killed you,” Harry said. “And he was going to kill me too, but he thought it would be more fun to watch me go crazy.”
“Who?” Draco asked.
“You know,” Harry replied.
Voldemort.
---
Harry didn’t sleep the rest of that night, or the next. He was becoming sullen, jittery, and irritable. It was tearing Draco apart to see him like this, so he gave Harry a double dose of the potion.
Harry gratefully accepted, and fell into a thankfully dreamless sleep that lasted the whole night.
---
“We need more Drought of Dreamless Sleep,” Draco said.
Severus raised an eyebrow. The blonde had once again flooed in uninvited and unannounced, and now he was making stupid demands.
“He can’t possibly have run out already,” Severus replied.
“It’s helping,” Draco said.
“How much has he been taking each night?” Severus demanded.
“It depends on how he’s feeling. If he’s down or something, the dreams are more likely to come.” Draco avoided Severus’ eyes.
“How much, Draco?” he said more firmly.
“Two or three doses a night. Sometimes the nightmares come anyway, and he takes another before morning.” He knew he shouldn’t have let Harry take that much, but he hated seeing the guy he loved in such a state.
“Idiot!” Severus snapped. “Have you no common sense? Take him to St. Mungo’s.”
“Give me the potion,” Draco said.
“No,” Severus looked Draco strait in the eye, challenging him. “He’s sick. He needs help.”
“My boyfriend is not sick or crazy or any other stupid idea you may come up with. We can handle it, just give me the potion.” Draco held out his hand.
Severus crossed his arms in front of him. “Stop being a brat. If you feel so strongly for him, you’ll do what’s best for him.”
“I’m what’s best for him, not some incompetent team of medi-wizards. What can they do for him anyway?” Draco said.
“Get him off the potion. Psychological studies. This doesn’t seem like something that’s just going to go away, especially if it’s getting worse despite the potion.” Severus had a point.
“But…” Draco realized that he didn’t have a good enough argument, and anything he said would make him sound like a selfish prat. He scowled as he threw the powder into the floo and disappeared.
---
“Don’t worry, Harry, this will only be for a short time.” Draco kissed the fingers of the hand he was holding.
“I won’t get to sleep with you tonight,” Harry said from the St. Mungo’s bed.
“I know. But Severus says these people will be able to get rid of the nightmares,” Draco replied.
“You know I don’t trust him,” Harry replied.
“But I do,” Draco countered.
Harry decided he was too tired to argue about it.
---
“When was the first time you had a nightmare like this?” the Medi-Wizard asked.
His name was Michael, and he wasn’t exactly forthcoming with information. Draco didn’t like him. Despite all the questions Draco had, Michael never gave a solid answer.
“I’ve been having them my whole life. I’m Harry Potter, remember?” Harry pointed to his scar. Michael gave him a look that said he wasn’t amused, and Harry elaborated. “They get more intense during times of stress, but after the war they faded. I thought they were gone.”
“Do you see memories or new things? How distorted is the reality?”
“Both, and not very.”
“Can you give me some of the dominant imagery?”
Harry hesitated, and Draco shifted in his seat.
“I see the war. The battles. Voldemort. The Triwizard Tournament. People… dying.” Harry choked on his words, and couldn’t continue.
“People you know or not?”
“Both.” Harry’s eyes shot over to Draco. Draco gave him a reassuring face, but didn’t say anything because he had been berated several times already for interrupting.
Michael noticed the non-verbal exchange. “Elaborate.”
“Surely the people I’ve seen die in my life isn’t important to this session.”
“Why did you look at him?” He gestured to Draco.
“Because he’s my boyfriend, and this is a difficult topic,” Harry said after a beat.
“Right. I think we’re done for today.” Michael closed the notebook he had been writing in, recognizing that he wouldn’t be getting any more useful information from Harry at the moment.
“I’d like to sleep,” Harry said before he left.
“Alright,” Michael replied. He continued to the door, but was stopped again by Draco.
“He means, he wants some Drought of Dreamless Sleep.”
“We can’t give him that,” Michael said. “He can have a calming drought, but nothing too strong.”
By the time Michael came back with the calming drought, Draco was seething.
“I’m one of the richest wizards in England! If my boyfriend wants a certain potion, he will get it,” Draco threatened.
“Money isn’t going to restore Harry’s health, Mr. Malfoy,” Michael said coldly.
Draco was left speechless.
---
After that Draco became more cooperative with the medi-wizards, and Harry’s condition began to improve.
“So I had a horrible guilt-complex and an addiction to Dreamless Sleep,” Harry concluded just before they left St. Mungo’s. “Not to mention the fear that Voldemort will come back every ten years or so.”
Harry smiled, tried to make a joke of it, but Draco knew him better than that. He pulled Harry into a hug. “If you ever feel so helpless again, let me know, okay?”
“Yeah,” Harry said, hugging him back. “I will.”