Artist:
ghotRecipient:
mizbeanTitle: Red Wall
Pairing(s): Harry/Draco
Summary: Streets are almost always deserted when it rains.
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters herein are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended.
Warning(s): Frottage, sex in a public place.
Epilogue compliant? Well
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"Hurry up," he says mechanically, transfixed by the way Malfoy's chest is moving in and out like an accordion. "Fuck you," Malfoy answers, and then, "fuck you," once more, but his voice is so hoarse it comes out like a plea, and Harry's own chest heaves at that. God, and Malfoy's so polished--nails manicured, eyebrows arched, lashes slung low and dark over his cheeks, mixing with the rain like war paint. He's got his chin tilted just so--like he's been practicing the pose in case he ran into Harry.
Harry doesn't want to think about Malfoy practicing with anyone else, in backalleys or elsewhere, so he snaps, "I said hurry the fuck ( ... )
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*attempts coherent sentence*
ggggg0y
*fails*
OH MY GOD YES
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an alley so for back even the cats won't come here.
How Malfoy kisses like the surf, like something breaking over Harry in waves
and he's whispering things into the hollow of Malfoy's precious perfect throat, and Malfoy whispers, seashells him right back.
And the rain is washing over Malfoy's perfect pearl skin, and Harry closes his eyes.
Marvellously poetic and deafeningly hot.
ED Yeah. I'm pretty sure I recognize you in the crowd. I was going to say "The author I was thinking of doesn't write H/D. Anymore." *grins* What a lovely thing!
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*dies*
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