hackthis_archive | HP - The King of Sorrow (NC-17)

goss made art for the Slytherin house (so not work safe), which warmed the recesses of my green and silver heart, because nobody ever makes art for us. It's always about ~~Pooter~~ that wanker. I thought a story would be a nice accompaniment/ thank you.

Also, can I mention that I told

serialkarma that I was giving up porn for Lent and she didn't believe me! Yeah, I wouldn't believe me either.

Harry Potter
Draco/Blaise/Theodore, Draco/Harry, Blaise/Theodore (NC-17)

The King of Sorrow

Theodore Nott is giving Blaise Zabini a blowjob on the floor of the sixth-year's dormitory –- a rather thorough and proficient blowjob, judging by the keening sounds Blaise is emitting and the way he's scrabbling at the stone flooring for purchase.

Blaise's cock is thick and wet, and Theodore's tongue is swirling around the head as though Blaise is covered in chocolate and cream. Blaise is going to ruin his nails with all that clawing at the floor -- but from where Draco's standing in his Quidditch gear, and Blaise and Theodore are sprawled out on the floor, Draco doubts that Blaise is terribly concerned with the state of his fingernails.

Technically, Draco couldn't blame Blaise for being distracted -– but he will anyway, just as soon as he remembers how to breathe. The ability to inhale and exhale aren't feeling terribly natural right now, and he thinks his broomstick might splinter under the pressure he's exerting on the handle.

Despite common perception, Draco isn't always the smartest one in his house. The most devious, morally ambiguous and willing to do anything to best Potter -- absolutely -- but the quickest one on the uptake? Not always. He would never admit such a thing out loud, or even to himself, but on occasion he can be a bit slow on the uptake. However, the charm on the dormitory lock and the clothing strewn around his room, when added to the naked bodies writhing on the floor, are pretty damning evidence.

They started without him – and he knows he should be extremely hacked off -– and he is. He really is. He's also horny -– and a little comfort at a time such as this could go a long way.

One day Draco will beat Potter to the Snitch -– today wasn't that day –- but one day, Potter will know how it feels to lose.

On that day, Draco will remind Potter that he'll have to get accustomed to the sensation of being last, of not being good enough. One day Potter will do nothing but lose, and Draco will win. He will have everything, and Potter will have nothing.

Once his father is out of Azkaban, after the war is over and the Dark Lord has won, Potter will be Draco's prize. His toy. The Dark Lord can't kill Potter -– that would be too easy and too brief. Potter needs to suffer the way he's made Draco suffer, so Draco will clamp a collar around his neck and parade the People's Hero in Diagon Alley. Potter will wear his mark and be his property.

At night Potter will do what Draco wants. He will beg and howl and bend anyway that Draco so desires. And during the day, well, Potter will be on his knees for eternity.

His only thoughts will be of Draco's desires. Draco will make it so. He knows there must be a potion, or a charm, or a curse, or something to make this his reality.

Yes.

Every ignominy Draco has been subjected to at Potter's hands will be revisited ten-fold, and at night Potter will beg for Draco's touch just as Blaise is moaning for Theodore right now.

The noises that Blaise and Theodore are making are obscene and loud and wet, and despite his day-dreaming, Draco's cock is extremely interested in the scenario before him. Draco isn't that ambivalent himself. Except -– except that they should be worshipping him.

Everyone should be worshipping him, because he is worthy. All his life he's been told he is worthy. The blood in his veins is pure and green, and everyone should bow before him.

One day they will.

Draco has dreams just like everyone else, but he doesn't talk of them. Malfoys don't dream -- they achieve. Malfoys don't stand by and let the world pass, they change it in the manner they see fit.

Potter will be his prize, and Blaise and Theodore will stand beside him, fawning for his attention.

They're kissing now, desperately and passionately. Rolling on the floor, scratching pale skin and collecting tiny particles of dust that Draco can't see but knows are there.

He wonders if he would be as fractious if they hadn't started without him.

He wonders if they even know he's arrived.

Judging by the way that Theodore is grunting as Blaise jerks him off, he's not terribly certain they do. Theodore's cock isn't as long as Blaise's, but it's thicker; it stretches Draco's mouth until his jaw seems to disconnect. When Draco licks his dry lips, he can almost taste the sweat from their bodies.

It was incredibly rude of them to leave before the end of the match. Draco knows that neither Theodore nor Blaise have an interest in Quidditch. He knows they only attend the matches as a matter of house pride, but to leave before the end was unforgivably disrespectful. And yet, at least they didn't see him fail. Again.

At least they weren't around when Potter beat him to the Snitch. Again.

One day, however, this will all fall to the wayside.

"Are you going to stand about all day?" Blaise's mouth is swollen and red from Theodore's kisses, and there are red scratches on his chest from where Theodore marked him. Draco can see where Theodore's fingers are digging into Blaise's hips, and he's panting as though he's just run from a rampaging Hippogriff or a mudblood trying to share the same personal space.

"You started without me." Draco is trying for annoyed, but it comes out almost petulant, and when Blaise licks the corners of his mouth, Draco wants to yank him to his knees and stop his wordless insolence with his cock.

"You can be vexed later," Blaise says, stroking the sweat on Theodore's chest. "Come here and get undressed already. Whatever it is you're thinking about – it can wait a little while longer."

Draco's perfectly willing to take that first step, but there's a voice inside him that says that that's not how it should be.

He should start as he means to go on.

"I want you to undress me," he says, his voice quivering only a little. He wants it to be a demand, not a request, and he pretends not to see the looks Theodore and Blaise exchange before getting to their feet and coming over to him.

He's no one's pity party, and one day, everyone will recognise that.

-end-

Dedicated to the genius of

goss and my girl, whose real birthday present isn't, uh, ~~started~~ done yet. Un-betad because my beta is feeling poorly and is having a lie-down.

Title from the song by Sade.