Courage and Revenge
“Oh god, this is wrong.” Neville insisted, voice shaking. “This is so so so wrong.”
“Shurrup,” Draco mumbled against the skin of Neville’s neck. He pulled an inch of Neville’s skin between his teeth and sucked lightly. Neville knees threatened to buckle under him.
“You’re… you’re a Slytherin.” He groaned, Draco’s hands grabbing at his sides. “You’re a Malfoy!”
“Like I don’t know that?” He growled. He thrust his tongue into Neville’s mouth before he could respond.
Draco’s tongue was forceful, his lips strong against Neville’s. His hands roamed over the Gryffindor’s body, always a touch harsher than gentle.
Neville whimpered. He let Draco press him closer against the classroom door; he could feel the cold wood through his button-down.
“Draco…” Neville sighed against his lips, fingers weaving into Draco’s hair. “Draco Draco Draco,”
Draco pulled away, questioning Neville with his smoldering eyes. Their ragged breath mingled in the air between them. “What?” Draco’s voice was so soft and low that it was almost just an exhale.
“Don’t get me wrong,” Neville forced a rough swallow. “I’m really enjoying this, but-“
“As am I.” Draco cut him off. He grinned before ducking his head down and sucking at Neville’s jaw.
Neville felt his train of thought slipping away into aroused oblivion, and used his last bit of strength to grab Draco’s head. He forced Draco’s blue eyes to his.
“Draco. Look at me.” He tried to pump courage into his voice. He was a Gryffindor, after all.
“What do you want from me?” Draco asked, exhaustion evident in his tone. He ran a hand through his hair, making pieces stand on end. “Do you want me to tell you that this- whatever this is,- is the most fulfilling and positive thing I’ve done in months? That I really fucking enjoy it? That I finally feel like I’m doing what I want for once? That I’m tired of being what everyone expects me to be? I’m not just a bully or a daddy’s-boy. This is me. Right here, with you. Is that what you wanted to hear?”
“Yes,” Nevilled pulled Draco’s lips back to his.
“Shurrup,” Draco mumbled against the skin of Neville’s neck. He pulled an inch of Neville’s skin between his teeth and sucked lightly. Neville knees threatened to buckle under him.
“You’re… you’re a Slytherin.” He groaned, Draco’s hands grabbing at his sides. “You’re a Malfoy!”
“Like I don’t know that?” He growled. He thrust his tongue into Neville’s mouth before he could respond.
Draco’s tongue was forceful, his lips strong against Neville’s. His hands roamed over the Gryffindor’s body, always a touch harsher than gentle.
Neville whimpered. He let Draco press him closer against the classroom door; he could feel the cold wood through his button-down.
“Draco…” Neville sighed against his lips, fingers weaving into Draco’s hair. “Draco Draco Draco,”
Draco pulled away, questioning Neville with his smoldering eyes. Their ragged breath mingled in the air between them. “What?” Draco’s voice was so soft and low that it was almost just an exhale.
“Don’t get me wrong,” Neville forced a rough swallow. “I’m really enjoying this, but-“
“As am I.” Draco cut him off. He grinned before ducking his head down and sucking at Neville’s jaw.
Neville felt his train of thought slipping away into aroused oblivion, and used his last bit of strength to grab Draco’s head. He forced Draco’s blue eyes to his.
“Draco. Look at me.” He tried to pump courage into his voice. He was a Gryffindor, after all.
“What do you want from me?” Draco asked, exhaustion evident in his tone. He ran a hand through his hair, making pieces stand on end. “Do you want me to tell you that this- whatever this is,- is the most fulfilling and positive thing I’ve done in months? That I really fucking enjoy it? That I finally feel like I’m doing what I want for once? That I’m tired of being what everyone expects me to be? I’m not just a bully or a daddy’s-boy. This is me. Right here, with you. Is that what you wanted to hear?”
“Yes,” Nevilled pulled Draco’s lips back to his.