It was good, until it was bad [Harry/Draco]
Note: I'm not bothering w/ a header because I don't even know what this is and where it came from. (Oh, Word Count: 380)
It was good because he couldn’t see him.
It was good because they would have blindfolds on and despite hearing his voice as he moaned and writhed under him, Draco could still pretend that it wasn’t him. Except that it was.
When they were in public, Draco would hear him talking. A faint sound as he laughed with Weasley or Granger, or as he put his arm around Longbottom, and Draco would know that sound, he could recognise the laughter. He saw the strong hold on Longbottom’s shoulder and Draco would know exactly how much pressure he applied when he squeezed like that.
Draco knew how much pressure hurt and how much pressure was pleasure.
It was good because he couldn’t see him. Except when he could. Then all he could see was him.
It was good when it’d started as a one-off that eventually turned into a string of casual one-offs. Which eventually turned into a monogamous casual thing that neither of them discussed. Because when they were in public, they didn’t acknowledge each other. Except when Draco would hear him. He could hear him sitting in the café and he’d groan at how good the fucking treacle tart was and Draco knew knew knew that he could make Potter groan louder than that. He knew that he could make Potter beg on his knees and that treacle tart was nothing compared to how good Draco made Potter feel.
Draco got up and left the café. Simply because he didn’t need the torture. He didn’t want his cock to twitch at hearing Potter moan around a bloody piece of dessert.
He didn’t know what possessed him to turn. But as soon as he was about to step out the door, Draco turned to look. Potter was watching him leave.
Draco gave a half a smile and squeezed the side of the door as he left. He saw Potter straighten up and watch Draco’s hand. Draco turned around and walked away. It wasn’t just that Draco could see him in public, because Potter could see him too. Potter would know how much pressure Draco had applied when he squeezed that side of the door, and how much pressure he’d apply to Potter’s cock to make him come.
It was good because he couldn’t see him.
It was good because they would have blindfolds on and despite hearing his voice as he moaned and writhed under him, Draco could still pretend that it wasn’t him. Except that it was.
When they were in public, Draco would hear him talking. A faint sound as he laughed with Weasley or Granger, or as he put his arm around Longbottom, and Draco would know that sound, he could recognise the laughter. He saw the strong hold on Longbottom’s shoulder and Draco would know exactly how much pressure he applied when he squeezed like that.
Draco knew how much pressure hurt and how much pressure was pleasure.
It was good because he couldn’t see him. Except when he could. Then all he could see was him.
It was good when it’d started as a one-off that eventually turned into a string of casual one-offs. Which eventually turned into a monogamous casual thing that neither of them discussed. Because when they were in public, they didn’t acknowledge each other. Except when Draco would hear him. He could hear him sitting in the café and he’d groan at how good the fucking treacle tart was and Draco knew knew knew that he could make Potter groan louder than that. He knew that he could make Potter beg on his knees and that treacle tart was nothing compared to how good Draco made Potter feel.
Draco got up and left the café. Simply because he didn’t need the torture. He didn’t want his cock to twitch at hearing Potter moan around a bloody piece of dessert.
He didn’t know what possessed him to turn. But as soon as he was about to step out the door, Draco turned to look. Potter was watching him leave.
Draco gave a half a smile and squeezed the side of the door as he left. He saw Potter straighten up and watch Draco’s hand. Draco turned around and walked away. It wasn’t just that Draco could see him in public, because Potter could see him too. Potter would know how much pressure Draco had applied when he squeezed that side of the door, and how much pressure he’d apply to Potter’s cock to make him come.