Blame the Full Moon, VI [Harry/Draco]
Title: Blame The Full Moon, VI
Author/Artist: digthewriter
Word Count: ~1145
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Rating: ~R
Warnings: Content: AU: Remus+Sirius live. Angst. Harry is a werewolf. Malfoy might be kind of a jerk.
Created for: hp_creatures JANUARY prompts.
Disclaimer: Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Notes: Unbetaed. PART SIX. Read Part ONE, TWO, THREE, FOUR. FIVE. I guess I didn't realize it'd been so long since I updated this series.
Summary: It's been weeks since Malfoy contacted him after he said he was going to break it off with Oro. Harry isn't sure what's happened.
The next postcard Harry received from Sirius and Remus was from Chiang Rai. Yeah, it was great that they were having a bloody fantastic holiday except he was over here, in England, being miserable.
Of course, Harry knew it wasn’t Sirius's fault. His godfather and his husband were on holiday and they were not responsible for a fully-grown adult, a werewolf, nonetheless-especially since Harry said he could take care of himself.
He could. He could totally take care of himself but he hadn’t expected to fall in bloody-goddamn hell-love with Draco fucking Malfoy!
So, yeah. It’d been a few days, if not weeks, since Harry had sent those flowers to the manor, in hopes of getting Malfoy’s attention. Malfoy’d claimed he was going to break it off with his casual boyfriend, because Harry didn’t do casual, and he wanted to, well, do…Malfoy.
Their sex-life had been incredible. Sure, Harry had mostly been with Malfoy after he’d returned from a run, and he’d barely been human for a few minutes before he took Malfoy-but-the last time had been different.
It hadn’t been about the need from a werewolf, it’d been about a need from Harry. As a human. A human Malfoy had seemed to want. Harry had thought Malfoy understood that. Hadn’t he?
Still, since Malfoy hadn't contacted Harry, Harry didn't contact Malfoy. The last time he'd tried to show initiative, it nearly backfired. Nearly. Sure, after the fight, it'd been some incredible sex but that was not the life Harry wanted to lead. He didn't want the sex between him and Malfoy be only about the need. He wanted Malfoy to like him, as sad as that sounded. Okay, not sad, maybe a bit sentimental, still, sentimental was sad. He was a bloody werewolf for Merlin's sake!
To make up for the fact that he missed Malfoy, and didn't want to show it, Harry relied on himself for his release. Every night after he'd come home from work, he wished for Malfoy to be there. Missing Malfoy's mouth, his hard cock rubbing against him, Harry stroked his own erection until he came.
In the beginning, it'd been okay, but since Malfoy had been his-given himself to Harry so damn willingly-nothing else could compare.
When the next full moon arrived, Harry was at the cottage-the empty cottage-and went about his routine. He prepared a hearty meal for himself for when he'd return, just in case Malfoy wouldn't be there to cater to his hunger, and tried not to think about it. His hunger. Not just sustenance for his body, but sustenance for his desire. His desire for all things Malfoy. He shed his clothes and showered before he was going to go out for the run. He was almost entirely positive Malfoy would be there when he'd return. It'd been like this for ages now, Malfoy had never missed an "appointment," still Harry gave himself a few seconds to worry.
Bloody. Fucking. Malfoy.
The night was cool. Cooler than Harry ever remembered, and there was a sharp paranoid feeling that was just prickling. He felt an arrow go past him before he realised he was being hunted. Were they wizards? Or Muggles? Harry had no idea, but he knew they were after him. The cottage was sheltered under a spell Malfoy had cast, so there was no way for these hunters to find him if he went there. But, returning to the cottage in his werewolf form was dangerous for humans. If Malfoy was there, there was no way to guarantee Harry wouldn't hurt him.
Another arrow wooshed past him, and then he heard gunfire. Muggles, then. Muggles, most definitely.
Harry jumped from left to right until he knew the darkness of the forest surrounded him and he climbed a tree. He howled as loud as he could, until all the wolves around heard him, and they howled back. They weren't his pack, but they knew when one of their own needed aid. They were there for him.
It wasn't long after when he felt the hunters retreat. They might have been stupid and daring, but they weren't careless. They knew real danger and ran away from it. Eventually, Harry felt it was safe to go back. Go back to the cottage and to Malfoy; he felt an odd feeling calling him back.
When he returned, it was nearly sunrise, and Harry transformed to his human self. He took one sniff and knew of Malfoy's presence in the cottage. Well, not abandoned him entirely then. That was a good thing.
Malfoy was sleeping on his side of the bed when Harry walked into the room. The room where he was supposedly, originally, to stay was still untouched. He had half a mind to go to that room. To ignore his impulse-his desire-to be with Malfoy. But he knew he couldn't. He couldn't give up on something that'd had him riled up for all these months. Malfoy wasn't some lover that liked to toy with his feelings, he was also Harry's healer, his confidant, his counsellor.
Harry turned to leave, just to get a glass of water before he'd return to bed, when he heard Malfoy shuffle around on the bed.
"Harry?"
He must have been truly sleeping since Malfoy'd let his guard down and called him by his first name.
"Be right back," Harry said and went to the kitchen anyway. He didn't want water. What he wanted, was Malfoy.
On the kitchen counter was an almost empty bottle of Firewhisky and one glass. Had Malfoy been drinking before Harry got there? So his ease with Harry hadn't been due to being sleepy, but also drunk?
Harry knew if he went to bed with Malfoy now, there was no doubt they'd have sex. But he didn't want to have Malfoy like that. All those mornings when he and Malfoy had been together, could it have been possible Malfoy had been drinking severely? So Harry could fuck him and Malfoy could just...what? Put up with it?
If he weren't so weak, he'd have Apparated home, but that was exactly why this cottage was there. It was for him to rest and regain his strength. This month was one of those rare occurrences when the full moon didn't emerge just once a month, but for two days in a row.
He had one more night left where he wouldn't have control; he couldn't go home, no matter how much he wanted to.
In the end, Harry went into his own bedroom; the room that'd been left untouched forever. He pulled the covers over him and almost immediately fell asleep; missing Malfoy's body next to his. But he couldn't think about that now. He might have to worry about the Muggles that were out there hunting him tonight.
PART SEVEN
Author/Artist: digthewriter
Word Count: ~1145
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Rating: ~R
Warnings: Content: AU: Remus+Sirius live. Angst. Harry is a werewolf. Malfoy might be kind of a jerk.
Created for: hp_creatures JANUARY prompts.
Disclaimer: Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Notes: Unbetaed. PART SIX. Read Part ONE, TWO, THREE, FOUR. FIVE. I guess I didn't realize it'd been so long since I updated this series.
Summary: It's been weeks since Malfoy contacted him after he said he was going to break it off with Oro. Harry isn't sure what's happened.
The next postcard Harry received from Sirius and Remus was from Chiang Rai. Yeah, it was great that they were having a bloody fantastic holiday except he was over here, in England, being miserable.
Of course, Harry knew it wasn’t Sirius's fault. His godfather and his husband were on holiday and they were not responsible for a fully-grown adult, a werewolf, nonetheless-especially since Harry said he could take care of himself.
He could. He could totally take care of himself but he hadn’t expected to fall in bloody-goddamn hell-love with Draco fucking Malfoy!
So, yeah. It’d been a few days, if not weeks, since Harry had sent those flowers to the manor, in hopes of getting Malfoy’s attention. Malfoy’d claimed he was going to break it off with his casual boyfriend, because Harry didn’t do casual, and he wanted to, well, do…Malfoy.
Their sex-life had been incredible. Sure, Harry had mostly been with Malfoy after he’d returned from a run, and he’d barely been human for a few minutes before he took Malfoy-but-the last time had been different.
It hadn’t been about the need from a werewolf, it’d been about a need from Harry. As a human. A human Malfoy had seemed to want. Harry had thought Malfoy understood that. Hadn’t he?
Still, since Malfoy hadn't contacted Harry, Harry didn't contact Malfoy. The last time he'd tried to show initiative, it nearly backfired. Nearly. Sure, after the fight, it'd been some incredible sex but that was not the life Harry wanted to lead. He didn't want the sex between him and Malfoy be only about the need. He wanted Malfoy to like him, as sad as that sounded. Okay, not sad, maybe a bit sentimental, still, sentimental was sad. He was a bloody werewolf for Merlin's sake!
To make up for the fact that he missed Malfoy, and didn't want to show it, Harry relied on himself for his release. Every night after he'd come home from work, he wished for Malfoy to be there. Missing Malfoy's mouth, his hard cock rubbing against him, Harry stroked his own erection until he came.
In the beginning, it'd been okay, but since Malfoy had been his-given himself to Harry so damn willingly-nothing else could compare.
When the next full moon arrived, Harry was at the cottage-the empty cottage-and went about his routine. He prepared a hearty meal for himself for when he'd return, just in case Malfoy wouldn't be there to cater to his hunger, and tried not to think about it. His hunger. Not just sustenance for his body, but sustenance for his desire. His desire for all things Malfoy. He shed his clothes and showered before he was going to go out for the run. He was almost entirely positive Malfoy would be there when he'd return. It'd been like this for ages now, Malfoy had never missed an "appointment," still Harry gave himself a few seconds to worry.
Bloody. Fucking. Malfoy.
The night was cool. Cooler than Harry ever remembered, and there was a sharp paranoid feeling that was just prickling. He felt an arrow go past him before he realised he was being hunted. Were they wizards? Or Muggles? Harry had no idea, but he knew they were after him. The cottage was sheltered under a spell Malfoy had cast, so there was no way for these hunters to find him if he went there. But, returning to the cottage in his werewolf form was dangerous for humans. If Malfoy was there, there was no way to guarantee Harry wouldn't hurt him.
Another arrow wooshed past him, and then he heard gunfire. Muggles, then. Muggles, most definitely.
Harry jumped from left to right until he knew the darkness of the forest surrounded him and he climbed a tree. He howled as loud as he could, until all the wolves around heard him, and they howled back. They weren't his pack, but they knew when one of their own needed aid. They were there for him.
It wasn't long after when he felt the hunters retreat. They might have been stupid and daring, but they weren't careless. They knew real danger and ran away from it. Eventually, Harry felt it was safe to go back. Go back to the cottage and to Malfoy; he felt an odd feeling calling him back.
When he returned, it was nearly sunrise, and Harry transformed to his human self. He took one sniff and knew of Malfoy's presence in the cottage. Well, not abandoned him entirely then. That was a good thing.
Malfoy was sleeping on his side of the bed when Harry walked into the room. The room where he was supposedly, originally, to stay was still untouched. He had half a mind to go to that room. To ignore his impulse-his desire-to be with Malfoy. But he knew he couldn't. He couldn't give up on something that'd had him riled up for all these months. Malfoy wasn't some lover that liked to toy with his feelings, he was also Harry's healer, his confidant, his counsellor.
Harry turned to leave, just to get a glass of water before he'd return to bed, when he heard Malfoy shuffle around on the bed.
"Harry?"
He must have been truly sleeping since Malfoy'd let his guard down and called him by his first name.
"Be right back," Harry said and went to the kitchen anyway. He didn't want water. What he wanted, was Malfoy.
On the kitchen counter was an almost empty bottle of Firewhisky and one glass. Had Malfoy been drinking before Harry got there? So his ease with Harry hadn't been due to being sleepy, but also drunk?
Harry knew if he went to bed with Malfoy now, there was no doubt they'd have sex. But he didn't want to have Malfoy like that. All those mornings when he and Malfoy had been together, could it have been possible Malfoy had been drinking severely? So Harry could fuck him and Malfoy could just...what? Put up with it?
If he weren't so weak, he'd have Apparated home, but that was exactly why this cottage was there. It was for him to rest and regain his strength. This month was one of those rare occurrences when the full moon didn't emerge just once a month, but for two days in a row.
He had one more night left where he wouldn't have control; he couldn't go home, no matter how much he wanted to.
In the end, Harry went into his own bedroom; the room that'd been left untouched forever. He pulled the covers over him and almost immediately fell asleep; missing Malfoy's body next to his. But he couldn't think about that now. He might have to worry about the Muggles that were out there hunting him tonight.
PART SEVEN