Fic: "A Beautiful Mirage"
Happy new year, everyone!
I haven't posted this to Inkvein yet, but it will be up once I finish the redesign.
Title: A Beautiful Mirage
Author: Snuffy Livingston (snuffylicious)
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Warnings: None. The sex is totally vanilla.
Summary: Even the perfect duplicate of Draco's body couldn't fill the void of his being gone from Harry's life.
It looked exactly like him, but it would never be him. His eyes were just the same grey, his hair the perfect shade of white blond, but it was little things -- things that were almost imperceptible -- that would cruelly remind Harry of exactly what was beneath him.
For instance, he didn't moan the same way. Draco's eyes always used to flutter and his mouth would part just slightly, and he looked like an angel being taken back up to heaven. His back would arch just enough to raise his stomach against Harry's, silently begging for Harry to touch him.
"That's it, then," Draco said. "You had your chance, and you gave it up."
The charm did nothing like that. It was a generic sort of whimper-whine that sounded absolutely nothing like his ex-lover. The charm would also talk in ways that were completely different from how Draco did. When Draco talked during sex, it would be beautiful and erotic, like poetry. The charm said nothing but fast, short, breathless words, like "yes" and "fuck me" and "God."
"I'm leaving."
"Fine," Harry hissed. "More power to you."
The look on Draco's face was hard to describe. It lingered somewhere in the grey area between hurt, furious and on the verge of emotional breakdown, but it went right through him.
"Fine," he whispered.
But if Harry closed his eyes and shut out the noise, Circe, it felt just like him, like he was there. But even with that, he couldn't keep the memories out of his head.
"Fine," he said again. "Burn in hell, you -- you insensitive piece of shit."
He snatched the bag off the bed with trembling hands and stormed past him out the bedroom door. As he passed through the den, Harry saw, reflected in the snowy window, the pent-up tears streaming down his cheeks, and his stomach knotted up, but his pride kept him from moving an inch.
"Yes, yes, yes," whispered the charm, wrapping its arms around Harry's back, "oh, God, fuck me."
"Shut up," Harry growled, pressing his face against the side of its head, his hips bucking into the impossibly tight channel between its satin legs. "Just shut up."
The charm had to obey; after all, that was how Harry had designed it. Instead it panted against his ear as Harry's pace quickened.
He left without so much as a goodbye. Harry heard Draco's mumbled words, then the rushing from the fireplace that swept him away.
When his eyes were closed it was almost exactly like it used to be. Draco had always preferred missionary position; that way, they could kiss and stare at one another, but this time, Harry couldn't stomach looking at it. He just so desperately needed to be reminded of what it felt on such a carnal, physical level. He missed it. He craved it. And it would never be his again.
Orgasm tore through him, and Harry rode it out, deaf to the charm's screaming. He couldn't hear anything but the blood pounding in his head.
Then, like clockwork, he collapsed and started to cry as the charm dissolved out of existence under him.
Why couldn't he follow him? He had the power to go back and beg for forgiveness, to make it all right. He supposed that Draco was right. His Gryffindor Pride refused any possibility of apologising.
Of getting Draco back.
Of sewing the pieces of his heart back together.
-- -- -- -- --
He was considering getting rid of the charm permanently. It had been growing too painful recently. He'd been using it a lot less lately, but on a rainy Wednesday night, just like the nights they would make love with the windows open, he thought he might try it again, maybe for the last time.
He cast the charm before he opened the door to the bedroom like he always did, and then rested his head on the frame for a few seconds just before he headed inside.
There Draco was, or something so painfully similar to Draco, lying on the bed, dressed in his typically intelligent but modest apparel straight from BCBG, a small smile on his face. And it hurt to look at him, so he turned his head to one side as he shrugged off his outer shirt.
"Don't forget to open the window."
Harry looked back at the charm. That certainly hadn't happened before. He must have accidentally designed that into the charm when he made it. He nodded once and headed across the hardwood floor to pull open the dusty old window, sending drops of cool water onto the sill and floor. From behind him he heard she soft groaning of the bed, as the charm shifted onto its knees.
A moment later he felt silky hands on his shoulders, moving slowly down his arms. The charm kissed him once on the dip of his shoulder, and Harry's eyes closed.
"Harry," it whispered against his skin as Harry sighed shakily. "I love you so much…"
He swallowed. It was too painful. He turned and took the charm into his arms, kissing it to keep it quiet, and it melted in his embrace. Lowering it gingerly onto the bed, he deftly pulled at its robes, dropping light kisses across its chest, neck and jaw, into which the charm arched hungrily, its eyes fluttering. The skin was fragrant and slightly salty to the taste, so familiar that it hurt.
It sighed out against his shoulder as Harry shifted the robes off its body. "God, I've missed this so much," it muttered against his skin. "Missed you. Missed your touch, your scent, oh, Merlin…"
His hands fumbled. It sounded so similar. With his breath quickening and arousal heavy between his legs, he did his best to ignore the stinging reminder and immerse himself in the feeling. If the charm kept talking like this, maybe just this once, he could remember…
"I love you," he rasped with his mouth against the delicate lines of the charm's neck. "I love you, Draco."
The charm moaned shakily and Harry felt the subtle shifting of its legs underneath him as they spread. Harry felt those familiar hands rake through his hair, just like Draco would do, as it pulled Harry into a kiss.
Choking on his own words, Harry found himself ripping out his own heart for a beautiful mirage. "I love you, I can't live without you, Draco…"
The charm whimpered, clawing at the remainders of Harry's clothes. It whispered something that sounded like "I'm sorry," but it was too broken for him to hear properly.
"I never should have let you walk out the door," Harry whispered. "I sh-should have -- I should have told you how sorry I was, Draco…" He buried his face in the side of the charms neck, and it even smelled just like him. "If I had known that you'd leave me…"
"Ssh, ssh," the charm soothed, though Harry could hear the waver in its voice.
Harry could feel as he rutted his erection against the charm's hips that it was slick and ready for penetration, and at that moment he wanted nothing more.
He pulled his hips back and slowly pushed inside.
"Hnngh--" The charm swallowed hard but spread his hips wider to accept him. Harry was dizzy; it was incredible, as if Draco was right there, beneath him, warm and soft.
"I can't believe," Harry said, "that I ever let myself think that you were less important than my pride."
Harry started a slow, even rhythm, just how Draco would have liked, pushing in and out of it as he dragged his lips across the skin of his collarbone. The charm arched its neck and slowly lifted its hips in time with Harry's thrusts, urging him that impossible inch deeper.
"I can't believe I couldn't see that you were fifty times more important--"
The charm sobbed.
The charm was crying.
He stopped his hips' movements and stared down it. He couldn't have been hurting it; it didn't have the capacity to feel, after all, so what was wrong?
Grey eyes looked up at him, filled with tears.
"It was my fault," the charm said weakly. "I shouldn't have left you; I never should have let the thought enter my mind. God, Harry, I'm so sorry."
He hardly dared to believe what he was hearing. There was no way the charm could have known that.
"Draco--?"
"Forgive me?"
Something warm spread across his abdomen, something indescribably uplifting. He was staring into Draco's eyes. Draco's. Not a charm's, not a mirage's, but Draco Malfoy's beautiful grey eyes. Draco was lying under him, Draco was apologising, Draco's legs were spread for him, and it was Draco that was surrounding his cock.
"Y-yes -- God yes, there's -- there's nothing to forgive, I--"
He threw his arms around Harry's neck and kissed him fiercely. He groaned against his mouth and repositioned his hips, thrusting as deep as he could manage, causing Draco to keen under him. Long, slender legs slid around his waist to egg him on, but there was no provocation required.
"I love you," he whispered, "I love you." He couldn't say it enough. He could repeat it until his dying day and not even come close to expressing it enough to match the depth of the words.
He loved him, but as white heat began to build in his pelvis, immediate thoughts of love were being replaced by the carnal desire of release, and not three swift thrusts later, he felt the channel seize up around him.
Draco nearly screamed as he came, thin lines of white falling onto his stomach. Harry's breath hitched as the already tight passage became that much tighter, milking him successfully within seconds of his partner. He rutted his hips fiercely into him, release blinding him as he emptied into Draco.
Moments later he collapsed on top of him, panting and spent.
And this time, Draco didn't disappear.
If you like this fic, check out my others at Inkvein.net!
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Leave comments, please!
I haven't posted this to Inkvein yet, but it will be up once I finish the redesign.
Title: A Beautiful Mirage
Author: Snuffy Livingston (snuffylicious)
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Warnings: None. The sex is totally vanilla.
Summary: Even the perfect duplicate of Draco's body couldn't fill the void of his being gone from Harry's life.
It looked exactly like him, but it would never be him. His eyes were just the same grey, his hair the perfect shade of white blond, but it was little things -- things that were almost imperceptible -- that would cruelly remind Harry of exactly what was beneath him.
For instance, he didn't moan the same way. Draco's eyes always used to flutter and his mouth would part just slightly, and he looked like an angel being taken back up to heaven. His back would arch just enough to raise his stomach against Harry's, silently begging for Harry to touch him.
"That's it, then," Draco said. "You had your chance, and you gave it up."
The charm did nothing like that. It was a generic sort of whimper-whine that sounded absolutely nothing like his ex-lover. The charm would also talk in ways that were completely different from how Draco did. When Draco talked during sex, it would be beautiful and erotic, like poetry. The charm said nothing but fast, short, breathless words, like "yes" and "fuck me" and "God."
"I'm leaving."
"Fine," Harry hissed. "More power to you."
The look on Draco's face was hard to describe. It lingered somewhere in the grey area between hurt, furious and on the verge of emotional breakdown, but it went right through him.
"Fine," he whispered.
But if Harry closed his eyes and shut out the noise, Circe, it felt just like him, like he was there. But even with that, he couldn't keep the memories out of his head.
"Fine," he said again. "Burn in hell, you -- you insensitive piece of shit."
He snatched the bag off the bed with trembling hands and stormed past him out the bedroom door. As he passed through the den, Harry saw, reflected in the snowy window, the pent-up tears streaming down his cheeks, and his stomach knotted up, but his pride kept him from moving an inch.
"Yes, yes, yes," whispered the charm, wrapping its arms around Harry's back, "oh, God, fuck me."
"Shut up," Harry growled, pressing his face against the side of its head, his hips bucking into the impossibly tight channel between its satin legs. "Just shut up."
The charm had to obey; after all, that was how Harry had designed it. Instead it panted against his ear as Harry's pace quickened.
He left without so much as a goodbye. Harry heard Draco's mumbled words, then the rushing from the fireplace that swept him away.
When his eyes were closed it was almost exactly like it used to be. Draco had always preferred missionary position; that way, they could kiss and stare at one another, but this time, Harry couldn't stomach looking at it. He just so desperately needed to be reminded of what it felt on such a carnal, physical level. He missed it. He craved it. And it would never be his again.
Orgasm tore through him, and Harry rode it out, deaf to the charm's screaming. He couldn't hear anything but the blood pounding in his head.
Then, like clockwork, he collapsed and started to cry as the charm dissolved out of existence under him.
Why couldn't he follow him? He had the power to go back and beg for forgiveness, to make it all right. He supposed that Draco was right. His Gryffindor Pride refused any possibility of apologising.
Of getting Draco back.
Of sewing the pieces of his heart back together.
-- -- -- -- --
He was considering getting rid of the charm permanently. It had been growing too painful recently. He'd been using it a lot less lately, but on a rainy Wednesday night, just like the nights they would make love with the windows open, he thought he might try it again, maybe for the last time.
He cast the charm before he opened the door to the bedroom like he always did, and then rested his head on the frame for a few seconds just before he headed inside.
There Draco was, or something so painfully similar to Draco, lying on the bed, dressed in his typically intelligent but modest apparel straight from BCBG, a small smile on his face. And it hurt to look at him, so he turned his head to one side as he shrugged off his outer shirt.
"Don't forget to open the window."
Harry looked back at the charm. That certainly hadn't happened before. He must have accidentally designed that into the charm when he made it. He nodded once and headed across the hardwood floor to pull open the dusty old window, sending drops of cool water onto the sill and floor. From behind him he heard she soft groaning of the bed, as the charm shifted onto its knees.
A moment later he felt silky hands on his shoulders, moving slowly down his arms. The charm kissed him once on the dip of his shoulder, and Harry's eyes closed.
"Harry," it whispered against his skin as Harry sighed shakily. "I love you so much…"
He swallowed. It was too painful. He turned and took the charm into his arms, kissing it to keep it quiet, and it melted in his embrace. Lowering it gingerly onto the bed, he deftly pulled at its robes, dropping light kisses across its chest, neck and jaw, into which the charm arched hungrily, its eyes fluttering. The skin was fragrant and slightly salty to the taste, so familiar that it hurt.
It sighed out against his shoulder as Harry shifted the robes off its body. "God, I've missed this so much," it muttered against his skin. "Missed you. Missed your touch, your scent, oh, Merlin…"
His hands fumbled. It sounded so similar. With his breath quickening and arousal heavy between his legs, he did his best to ignore the stinging reminder and immerse himself in the feeling. If the charm kept talking like this, maybe just this once, he could remember…
"I love you," he rasped with his mouth against the delicate lines of the charm's neck. "I love you, Draco."
The charm moaned shakily and Harry felt the subtle shifting of its legs underneath him as they spread. Harry felt those familiar hands rake through his hair, just like Draco would do, as it pulled Harry into a kiss.
Choking on his own words, Harry found himself ripping out his own heart for a beautiful mirage. "I love you, I can't live without you, Draco…"
The charm whimpered, clawing at the remainders of Harry's clothes. It whispered something that sounded like "I'm sorry," but it was too broken for him to hear properly.
"I never should have let you walk out the door," Harry whispered. "I sh-should have -- I should have told you how sorry I was, Draco…" He buried his face in the side of the charms neck, and it even smelled just like him. "If I had known that you'd leave me…"
"Ssh, ssh," the charm soothed, though Harry could hear the waver in its voice.
Harry could feel as he rutted his erection against the charm's hips that it was slick and ready for penetration, and at that moment he wanted nothing more.
He pulled his hips back and slowly pushed inside.
"Hnngh--" The charm swallowed hard but spread his hips wider to accept him. Harry was dizzy; it was incredible, as if Draco was right there, beneath him, warm and soft.
"I can't believe," Harry said, "that I ever let myself think that you were less important than my pride."
Harry started a slow, even rhythm, just how Draco would have liked, pushing in and out of it as he dragged his lips across the skin of his collarbone. The charm arched its neck and slowly lifted its hips in time with Harry's thrusts, urging him that impossible inch deeper.
"I can't believe I couldn't see that you were fifty times more important--"
The charm sobbed.
The charm was crying.
He stopped his hips' movements and stared down it. He couldn't have been hurting it; it didn't have the capacity to feel, after all, so what was wrong?
Grey eyes looked up at him, filled with tears.
"It was my fault," the charm said weakly. "I shouldn't have left you; I never should have let the thought enter my mind. God, Harry, I'm so sorry."
He hardly dared to believe what he was hearing. There was no way the charm could have known that.
"Draco--?"
"Forgive me?"
Something warm spread across his abdomen, something indescribably uplifting. He was staring into Draco's eyes. Draco's. Not a charm's, not a mirage's, but Draco Malfoy's beautiful grey eyes. Draco was lying under him, Draco was apologising, Draco's legs were spread for him, and it was Draco that was surrounding his cock.
"Y-yes -- God yes, there's -- there's nothing to forgive, I--"
He threw his arms around Harry's neck and kissed him fiercely. He groaned against his mouth and repositioned his hips, thrusting as deep as he could manage, causing Draco to keen under him. Long, slender legs slid around his waist to egg him on, but there was no provocation required.
"I love you," he whispered, "I love you." He couldn't say it enough. He could repeat it until his dying day and not even come close to expressing it enough to match the depth of the words.
He loved him, but as white heat began to build in his pelvis, immediate thoughts of love were being replaced by the carnal desire of release, and not three swift thrusts later, he felt the channel seize up around him.
Draco nearly screamed as he came, thin lines of white falling onto his stomach. Harry's breath hitched as the already tight passage became that much tighter, milking him successfully within seconds of his partner. He rutted his hips fiercely into him, release blinding him as he emptied into Draco.
Moments later he collapsed on top of him, panting and spent.
And this time, Draco didn't disappear.
If you like this fic, check out my others at Inkvein.net!
(Opens in a new window.)
Leave comments, please!