In Search of What Comes Easy - Part 10
Title: In Search of What Comes Easy
Fandom: Harry Potter/QAF crossover
Part: 10 of ??
Rating: Over all NC-17. This chapter is PG-13
Pairings/Characters: Brian/Draco, Harry, Draco, Harry/Draco
Timeline: Post Deathly Hallows for HP. Pre 101 and beginning to overlap with S1 cannon for QAF.
Warnings: This story begins and ends with Brian/Draco - they are the OTP in this fic, but I hope you will appreciate the relationship between Harry and Draco too. M/M sex. Some violence.
Summary: Brian knows that Draco is a wizard. He knows about his shady past. But strangest of all, Brian also knows that he wants Draco in his life. But sometimes wanting something isn't enough.
And in case you hadn't guessed, I own NOTHING related to QAF or HP. I write for fun because Brian and Draco are hot together. :)
Just before you panic: there is hot make up sex next chapter. :) And thank you for bearing with me during all the preamble chapters. Everything that has been written is really set up for the main plot which starts next chapter. Bear with me if the next update takes a little longer...just want to make sure I've got it right!!! ♥
~~Part 10~~
The brick wall outside Babylon bears the brunt of Draco's remaining aggression.
"Fuck!" He screams, slamming first his fist and then his palm against the unyielding wall. He rests his forehead against the brick, stealing breath after raged breath from the night air. He does not cry, though it might be better if he does.
"Draco!" Brian's voice barks out from the bottom of the club steps. He looks up and down the alley, finally seeing the ghostly figure against the wall. He storms over to Draco, face ominous and grim.
"You are damn lucky I know the club owner," He fumes. "He was ready to ban you from the premises permanently." Brian grabs him by the shoulder, spinning him around and pinning him against the wall roughly. His own anger bubbling up to the surface. But then any hostility evaporates off his face.
"Oh Christ, you're bleeding."
"I am?" Draco asks weekly. He lifts his hand to touch the cut over his eye. Brian pulls his hand away from the wound, turning it over so Draco can see his knuckles are raw and oozing too. "Shit." Draco breathes.
The sight of his own blood on his fingers makes his stomach swirl. Memories of another fight, with a different nemesis. And even more bleeding...
"Who was that guy?" Brian asks softly, wincing as his fingers hover over Draco's cuts.
"Perry." Draco swallows. Brian looks at him, completely at a loss. "The guy we took home together last month."
"And why did you feel the need to beat the shit out of him?"
"Perry's..." Draco looks over Brian's shoulder. The other men milling around the entrance to the club mutter to each other at the scene he and Brian have made. Giving them a wide berth but curious nonetheless.
"Perry's like me." Draco says deliberately. He makes his face quite plain, making sure his meaning is entirely obvious. Confusion then understanding then shock flicker across Brian's face. The former looking very much like the latter.
"Shit." He breathes.
Draco nods, suddenly feeling very cold, even in the still, muggy air. He lifts a shaking hand to cover his face. The intense anger melting into intense frailty.
"Take me home." He pleads.
With a quick nod and a protective arm around his shoulders, Brian ushers him in the direction of the Jeep.
It is not the first time Draco has been on the receiving end of such cruelty. Not the first time he has dished out his own vitriol. Intent on hurting his foe just as much as much as protecting himself. How many times has he tossed off the word Mudblood without a second though? Pushed all of Potter's buttons to start a fight simply because he could? Cursed and snarled and sneered because he is Draco Malfoy and that is what Malfoy's do?
They trudge up the stairs to the top floor and Brian opens the door to the loft. He throws his keys against the counter and pours himself a drink. Without a word Draco leaves Brian to his own thoughts. And to his alcohol.
He goes into the bathroom, the only place at the loft where he can close the door. He turns on the shower, carefully knits his brow back together with his wand and rinses his face of blood. He slowly disrobes, wincing when he sees all the bruises and abrasions on his skin. The tender spot over his ribs, already spreading into a large, purple stain.
He hangs his head, blond fringe dripping in front of his eyes, as the pelting water rinses him clean. Feelings of foolishness and frustration starting to creep in amidst the lingering anger and resentment. How could he let it get to that point? To the point where aggression had been the only possible outcome? Hasn't he grown past that need for control? Isn't his pride based on something other than superiority now?
Haven't I changed?
"Clearly not enough." Draco whispers out loud. A reprimand and a lament.
The loft has taken on the cloying smell of marijuana by the time he exits the bathroom nearly twenty minutes later. Brian is standing in front of the window. Jim Beam bottle in one hand, joint in the other. The lights from under the kitchen cabinets, the only lights he bothered to turn on, cast him in a mysterious light. Shadowed and blurry.
Draco sits on the couch behind him, dropping his chin into his hands. Brian takes a seat opposite him on the edge of the coffee table. He runs the pad of his thumb over skin above Draco's eye, the spot where only minutes before, there had been a cut and now is only smooth skin. He shakes his head slowly, still awed by the unceasing wonders of magic.
"He's the reason I told you." Draco admits. His words are garbled, his jaw compromised by it's place in his hand. So when Brian asks, "Huh?" Draco sits back against the couch, smoothing his palms over his legs and says it again.
"Perry is the reason I told you I'm a wizard. Well, part of it anyway. I suppose you could say he was he final straw."
"How? We barely talked that night."
"You barely talked. After...we finished and you fell asleep, I got up to talk to him. Don't know why I bothered..." Draco grimaces. "Who am I kidding? Of course I know why. I hadn't seen a single other wizard in Pittsburgh in nearly two years. All I wanted was to talk to someone who would understand what it was like living in this city."
His head drifts to look at the spot where it had all happened. His memory so visceral. Recalling the feelings and not just the words. "But instead all he did was rant at me about how disgusting I am. A vile human being who is defined solely by which side I was on during the war. Accused me of using you in some feeble attempt at redemption. All because of this."
He turns over his arm, eyes drifting down. Brian watches that familiar sorrowful gaze. Watches as Draco's eyes darken with self-consciousness. Brian wraps his hand around Draco's neck and presses his brow to Draco's. His eyes are close. Steady and open and they draw Draco's eyes up and away.
"I should have fucking known..." He whispers.
Brian pulls back. "Known what?"
"That he's a complete and utter bastard." Draco fumes. "He tried to use a Lust Charm on you."
"A what?"
"It's spell designed to control your lover without them knowing."
"When the fuck did he do that?"
"I don't really remember. He must have been going down on you because I remember pulling his head back and ordering him to stop. Because if that spell had held, there is nothing you wouldn't have let him do to you. Nothing."
Brian stands abruptly, taking several large steps away and several large swigs of whiskey. The idea of this spell suddenly makes him feel very squeamish. It is one thing to see Draco use magic. But to actually have magic cast upon him, on his body, without his knowledge feels like a gross violation. He had never even considered that magic like that exists, magic that manipulates so blatantly. But then of course Draco had said "There is a spell for almost everything." If there were spells to control a lover while in bed, who was to say that there weren't spells to control someone all the time? Perhaps even affect their feelings. Brian's cynical mind immediately jumps to the most drastic possibility. It would explain so much...
"Have you ever used magic on me?" He asks. But as soon as he turns to see the wounded look on Draco's face he knows the answer.
"Fuck you, Brian." Draco snaps. "You think I would do something like that to you? Honestly? Did you forget that I spent the first six months of knowing you doing everything in my power to hide magic from you?"
"I didn't -" He backtracks.
"That spell is despicable. Illegal, to boot. I would never do something like that to you. I care about you far too much to use magic like that. There are plenty of other, less vicious spells that can be used between the sheets - some that are damn near mind blowing - but I'd never use them without asking. But clearly because some ass-hole, psycho, whose face I tried to punch in tonight tried to use one, and since he's a wizard and I'm a wizard, that means I must have used one too, right? Right, thanks a fucking lot!"
"Draco..." Brian starts, but Draco simply flashes him a nasty glare, stopping any further discussion. He pushes himself up off the couch and stomps off to the bedroom.
He is sick of feeling pissed off. Sick of the blood rising in his ears time and again. He is sick of being accused of things, sick of having his goodness questioned. He is sick of the night and just ready to sleep. He considers going back to his apartment, but he is feeling too vindictive to bother. If Brian wants to make asinine statements, then he can deal with a cantankerous Malfoy. He rips back the sheets, making sure to settle in the middle of the bed and rolls onto his side with a satisfying humph.
Fandom: Harry Potter/QAF crossover
Part: 10 of ??
Rating: Over all NC-17. This chapter is PG-13
Pairings/Characters: Brian/Draco, Harry, Draco, Harry/Draco
Timeline: Post Deathly Hallows for HP. Pre 101 and beginning to overlap with S1 cannon for QAF.
Warnings: This story begins and ends with Brian/Draco - they are the OTP in this fic, but I hope you will appreciate the relationship between Harry and Draco too. M/M sex. Some violence.
Summary: Brian knows that Draco is a wizard. He knows about his shady past. But strangest of all, Brian also knows that he wants Draco in his life. But sometimes wanting something isn't enough.
And in case you hadn't guessed, I own NOTHING related to QAF or HP. I write for fun because Brian and Draco are hot together. :)
Just before you panic: there is hot make up sex next chapter. :) And thank you for bearing with me during all the preamble chapters. Everything that has been written is really set up for the main plot which starts next chapter. Bear with me if the next update takes a little longer...just want to make sure I've got it right!!! ♥
~~Part 10~~
The brick wall outside Babylon bears the brunt of Draco's remaining aggression.
"Fuck!" He screams, slamming first his fist and then his palm against the unyielding wall. He rests his forehead against the brick, stealing breath after raged breath from the night air. He does not cry, though it might be better if he does.
"Draco!" Brian's voice barks out from the bottom of the club steps. He looks up and down the alley, finally seeing the ghostly figure against the wall. He storms over to Draco, face ominous and grim.
"You are damn lucky I know the club owner," He fumes. "He was ready to ban you from the premises permanently." Brian grabs him by the shoulder, spinning him around and pinning him against the wall roughly. His own anger bubbling up to the surface. But then any hostility evaporates off his face.
"Oh Christ, you're bleeding."
"I am?" Draco asks weekly. He lifts his hand to touch the cut over his eye. Brian pulls his hand away from the wound, turning it over so Draco can see his knuckles are raw and oozing too. "Shit." Draco breathes.
The sight of his own blood on his fingers makes his stomach swirl. Memories of another fight, with a different nemesis. And even more bleeding...
"Who was that guy?" Brian asks softly, wincing as his fingers hover over Draco's cuts.
"Perry." Draco swallows. Brian looks at him, completely at a loss. "The guy we took home together last month."
"And why did you feel the need to beat the shit out of him?"
"Perry's..." Draco looks over Brian's shoulder. The other men milling around the entrance to the club mutter to each other at the scene he and Brian have made. Giving them a wide berth but curious nonetheless.
"Perry's like me." Draco says deliberately. He makes his face quite plain, making sure his meaning is entirely obvious. Confusion then understanding then shock flicker across Brian's face. The former looking very much like the latter.
"Shit." He breathes.
Draco nods, suddenly feeling very cold, even in the still, muggy air. He lifts a shaking hand to cover his face. The intense anger melting into intense frailty.
"Take me home." He pleads.
With a quick nod and a protective arm around his shoulders, Brian ushers him in the direction of the Jeep.
It is not the first time Draco has been on the receiving end of such cruelty. Not the first time he has dished out his own vitriol. Intent on hurting his foe just as much as much as protecting himself. How many times has he tossed off the word Mudblood without a second though? Pushed all of Potter's buttons to start a fight simply because he could? Cursed and snarled and sneered because he is Draco Malfoy and that is what Malfoy's do?
They trudge up the stairs to the top floor and Brian opens the door to the loft. He throws his keys against the counter and pours himself a drink. Without a word Draco leaves Brian to his own thoughts. And to his alcohol.
He goes into the bathroom, the only place at the loft where he can close the door. He turns on the shower, carefully knits his brow back together with his wand and rinses his face of blood. He slowly disrobes, wincing when he sees all the bruises and abrasions on his skin. The tender spot over his ribs, already spreading into a large, purple stain.
He hangs his head, blond fringe dripping in front of his eyes, as the pelting water rinses him clean. Feelings of foolishness and frustration starting to creep in amidst the lingering anger and resentment. How could he let it get to that point? To the point where aggression had been the only possible outcome? Hasn't he grown past that need for control? Isn't his pride based on something other than superiority now?
Haven't I changed?
"Clearly not enough." Draco whispers out loud. A reprimand and a lament.
The loft has taken on the cloying smell of marijuana by the time he exits the bathroom nearly twenty minutes later. Brian is standing in front of the window. Jim Beam bottle in one hand, joint in the other. The lights from under the kitchen cabinets, the only lights he bothered to turn on, cast him in a mysterious light. Shadowed and blurry.
Draco sits on the couch behind him, dropping his chin into his hands. Brian takes a seat opposite him on the edge of the coffee table. He runs the pad of his thumb over skin above Draco's eye, the spot where only minutes before, there had been a cut and now is only smooth skin. He shakes his head slowly, still awed by the unceasing wonders of magic.
"He's the reason I told you." Draco admits. His words are garbled, his jaw compromised by it's place in his hand. So when Brian asks, "Huh?" Draco sits back against the couch, smoothing his palms over his legs and says it again.
"Perry is the reason I told you I'm a wizard. Well, part of it anyway. I suppose you could say he was he final straw."
"How? We barely talked that night."
"You barely talked. After...we finished and you fell asleep, I got up to talk to him. Don't know why I bothered..." Draco grimaces. "Who am I kidding? Of course I know why. I hadn't seen a single other wizard in Pittsburgh in nearly two years. All I wanted was to talk to someone who would understand what it was like living in this city."
His head drifts to look at the spot where it had all happened. His memory so visceral. Recalling the feelings and not just the words. "But instead all he did was rant at me about how disgusting I am. A vile human being who is defined solely by which side I was on during the war. Accused me of using you in some feeble attempt at redemption. All because of this."
He turns over his arm, eyes drifting down. Brian watches that familiar sorrowful gaze. Watches as Draco's eyes darken with self-consciousness. Brian wraps his hand around Draco's neck and presses his brow to Draco's. His eyes are close. Steady and open and they draw Draco's eyes up and away.
"I should have fucking known..." He whispers.
Brian pulls back. "Known what?"
"That he's a complete and utter bastard." Draco fumes. "He tried to use a Lust Charm on you."
"A what?"
"It's spell designed to control your lover without them knowing."
"When the fuck did he do that?"
"I don't really remember. He must have been going down on you because I remember pulling his head back and ordering him to stop. Because if that spell had held, there is nothing you wouldn't have let him do to you. Nothing."
Brian stands abruptly, taking several large steps away and several large swigs of whiskey. The idea of this spell suddenly makes him feel very squeamish. It is one thing to see Draco use magic. But to actually have magic cast upon him, on his body, without his knowledge feels like a gross violation. He had never even considered that magic like that exists, magic that manipulates so blatantly. But then of course Draco had said "There is a spell for almost everything." If there were spells to control a lover while in bed, who was to say that there weren't spells to control someone all the time? Perhaps even affect their feelings. Brian's cynical mind immediately jumps to the most drastic possibility. It would explain so much...
"Have you ever used magic on me?" He asks. But as soon as he turns to see the wounded look on Draco's face he knows the answer.
"Fuck you, Brian." Draco snaps. "You think I would do something like that to you? Honestly? Did you forget that I spent the first six months of knowing you doing everything in my power to hide magic from you?"
"I didn't -" He backtracks.
"That spell is despicable. Illegal, to boot. I would never do something like that to you. I care about you far too much to use magic like that. There are plenty of other, less vicious spells that can be used between the sheets - some that are damn near mind blowing - but I'd never use them without asking. But clearly because some ass-hole, psycho, whose face I tried to punch in tonight tried to use one, and since he's a wizard and I'm a wizard, that means I must have used one too, right? Right, thanks a fucking lot!"
"Draco..." Brian starts, but Draco simply flashes him a nasty glare, stopping any further discussion. He pushes himself up off the couch and stomps off to the bedroom.
He is sick of feeling pissed off. Sick of the blood rising in his ears time and again. He is sick of being accused of things, sick of having his goodness questioned. He is sick of the night and just ready to sleep. He considers going back to his apartment, but he is feeling too vindictive to bother. If Brian wants to make asinine statements, then he can deal with a cantankerous Malfoy. He rips back the sheets, making sure to settle in the middle of the bed and rolls onto his side with a satisfying humph.