Tenderness
Title: Tenderness
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Angst
A/N: This is my first Harry/Draco drabble/songfic that I've published. All the lyrics are from Hatefuck by The Bravery. I own neither the characters or the lyrics. Reviews are appreciated.
Tenderness-
1. showing care, gentleness, and feeling
2. hurting or unusually sensitive when touched or pressed
“If I put my hands around your wrists
would you fight them?
If I put my fingers in your mouth
would you bite them?”
The wall grates along my back, your breath at my neck, and your voice is a low murmur over everything. All the words that spill out of your mouth during these dark patches of lucidity soak into my skin. In the morning I’ll stare in the mirror and wonder why I can’t see them tattooed on my skin, like the bruises you leave. Always dark and beautiful in the growing light that filters in through the dungeon windows. I twist and writhe because I’m trapped between a hard place and another hard place. I giggle at the thought, my laughter taking on a slightly manic edge.
“Some thing funny, Malfoy?” you ask, shoving me into the unforgiving wall again.
No. I think. Nothing’s ever funny between us. Some thing tells me you wouldn’t like this as much if I could laugh about it in the daylight. The golden boy isn’t quite so . . .golden. All the purple, black, and blue hold no humor. The bites and nips aren’t some thing that’s casually laughed about between friends. I doubt the blood that always tinges your fingertips afterwards would make your friends smile. Then again, maybe it would; it’s never your blood.
“You can tear your nails into my skin
you won't stop me.
You can twist and scream into the air
but no one can hear you here.”
I never fight you. I’ve come to the point where I’ve forgotten why. It might be because I don’t care. But then there’s that voice. That damn voice I’ve tried to kill off so many times. Liar. It whispers. You‘re a liar. I bend into your touch when your finger nails draw lines down my chest. It might be because I have nothing left to lose. Guess again. It taunts. Your mouth is hot on my raw skin. It’s marking me. It’s blacking out everything but us. You know why. It always insists. I whimper when you open the buttons on my shirt and attach yourself to my skin. It’s turning me into silk and tenderness. Come on. It hisses harshly. And that’s when I crumble. It’s always when your teeth find my flesh and your fingers are pushing on my hips so hard that I can feel the marks they’re painting. I want this. I admit silently. The voice crows triumphantly and I cry out against your shoulder.
“And there will be no tenderness.
No tenderness.
And there will be no tenderness.
No tenderness.”
You suckle on my skin like a new born. It feels like you’re trying to draw my essence out through my pores until there’s nothing left of me but a husk. Panting against my neck you easily slip the pants off my hips bringing the cold air clashing against the tenderness that’s spreading its way across the planes and angles of my body. You fingertips draw trails up my thighs and across my back. You spread me and slip your fingers inside without a second thought. You coat my insides with your tenderness too.
“Harry” I shudder.
You stiffen momentarily. Our names have no place here in the dark, musty corridor. These places void of light weren’t made for tenderness. I’ve broken some unspoken rule. You bite my shoulder sharply and push another finger in. I gasp apologetically. My body arches towards you in a display of repentance. Begging for the pardon I know you’ll offer so readily. I wait, while the blood rushes through my ears. Then you greedily forgive me and thrust another finger in.
“All your shunning friends
that despise you to your face.
What would they say now
if they saw you in this place?
Naked and breathless
could you live with this disgrace?”
You only asked me about my friends once. It was briefly somewhere in-between the cacophonyof pants and slapping of skin. You taunted me. You leaned against my ear and brushed my hair aside.
“What would they think, Malfoy?” you hissed at me.
I never answered you, not because I didn’t want to, but because I didn’t think you’d really cared about the answer anyway. They wouldn’t care. I thought silently. They wouldn’t even laugh. It hurt in that moment. How much I knew it was true. All the years I spent in their company. Washed away by the stain of the tattoo they all carried on their arms now. They wouldn’t even hate you. The voice reminded me and I cried. The tears made tracks down my cheeks and you drank them. You laved at them with your tongue and the tenderness ate away at them too. Along with all my other thoughts once your tongue found my mouth again.
“I will show no mercy for you
You have no mercy for me
The only thing that I ask. . .”
You replace you fingers with the head of your cock. Sliding into me, you claim me with each thrust. You mutter against my shoulder again. Whispering into my flesh over and over again like you always do. The white frays at my vision and threatens to over take me. Just like every time we meet in these gloomy hallways and I let you fill me with all the tenderness you have left. I feel the rush at my heels and I know it’s coming. It’s speeding along like a train. I strain my ears because I have to know what you keep whispering into my skin. I catch it just before the tenderness consumes us again.
“Love me mercilessly.”
“Always, Harry. . .” I whisper back.
