Finished: 45 (T) - Harry/Draco
Notes: For Cami blossomslut. Second attempt at slash-fic and more or less happy with it. As of 2 May 2009, this story has been revised.
Date: 24 October 2005
Author: vexia
Pairing(s): Harry/Draco
Summary: An exercise in geometric relations.
Lines are meant to be straight.
They are two separate bodies, side-by-side, tangled in white bedsheets. One quietly gazes at the ceiling, while the other clings to consciousness in his drunken stupor. This is their life now, and this is how they go to sleep.
Parallels never cross.
But unconnected lines can turn in degrees, and that's precisely what they do. Or what he does - the boy with the wispy golden-white hair. He crawls over his partner and straddles his hips, and he nearly chokes at the electricity that burns and crackles between their skin like fire embers - this hot, white heat that surges and bursts with lust and heart, the tingling sensation that teases his spine as he snaps upright, the explosion of shock rippling up and down his spine in jagged waves.
This is their right angle.
They are ninety degrees closer, grinding, skin on skin. They have the capacity to decrease numbers, and he leans in closer to the one beneath him, his lean arms on either side of the other man's head. His breathing is shallow and his is shallower, and he can only deduce that he's forty-five degrees closer to intimacy.
The suspense is unbearable.
But not so much when he feels strong hands grab his hips, fingernails digging into his perfect skin. He swallows, his heart beating wildly, reality thinning into his fantasy because this is not how it goes. He's supposed to take the dive - the initiative - to complete their unspeakable bliss. Not the other way around. It's unbecoming.
He has no time to think before his counterpart completes the gap.
They remain at forty-five, but that's okay with him.
This is their imperfect line.