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hackthis_archiveAm I the only one who noticed how they dressed Dr. LoveInterestNumberFour *just* like Lex? I mean how much more anvilicious can you get than a matching dark jacket and lilac coloured shirt? They have affinities; we get that. Fucking hell, lay off already.
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My girl wrote Harry/Ron, and it’s happy. I thought she was going to stroke out, bless. Also,![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
holographis wrote Harry/Draco, and dude. Sniffle.
For the record I have not lost the plot with all this sappy business. There will be pain – just not in this particular series.
Contract IV: The Clause
Improv: vice, grip, throat, flutter
For Kassie
Draco studies Potter’s breathing as though he expects it to stop at any moment. It’s not so much that Potter might die from happiness as he might die just to spite Draco. To keep Draco waiting for the rest of his Malfoy-given life.
Potter keeps brushing his lips over Draco’s forehead and his eyes and his nose, and if he’s not kissing Draco then, really, all this is a waste of time. But Draco is not going to ask Potter to kiss him, he’s not. All the same, Potter might suddenly disappear, or be killed, and leave Draco waiting forever – that would be unacceptable. Potter is sadistic enough to do that to him, Draco’s certain of it.
If Potter can ambush Draco on the way to dinner, and drag him into a storage cupboard of some sort – which has very good lighting considering there’s only one window letting in light from the full moon - there’s no telling what else he’s capable of. Draco has to be on his guard because Potter worries his lip in Potions, and brushes against Draco when he uses the cauldron. Draco’s fully expecting Potter to show up one day with nothing under his robe and then Draco will combust due to over-exposure to a Gryffindor – like his great, great, great, great, great uncle on his mother’s side that was Erased - and his father will bring him back from the dead just to kill him again.
“Well, *this* is certainly different.”
Potter is the sort that would inspire Draco to break a million rules, and then make sure he’s caught doing something trivial like kicking Mrs. Norris. Draco isn’t fooled by the honorable facade the way everyone else seems to be. Draco knows that Potter bites and scratches and likes to be on top. Draco knows that Harry Potter likes to be licked in the crook of his arm and writhes incessantly when Draco nuzzles his neck.
Potter is probably ticklish; and the flutter of the pulse in Potter’s neck beats in time with the twitch of Draco’s left eye. Potter makes him nervous in ways that Draco can’t - won’t - define, and the sight of Potter growing more and more naked never fails to shock him. Draco continually thinks he’s over it, until the next time they’re together, and he finds out he’s still wrong. It’s not that Potter is some bastion of beauty and flawless skin, in fact he’s quite the opposite, and Draco is inexorably drawn to that.
Potter’s knees are rough from a childhood he never talks about, and there are scars on his back and his abdomen. Draco likes to lick them slowly with his tongue and listen to Potter moan.
Draco spends a lot of time making Potter moan.
“I wouldn’t want you to get bored.”
Potter always seems to spend more time undressing Draco than undressing himself. One day Draco will make him stop that, but for the present, Draco is content to allow a very naked Harry Potter to leave bites marks on his neck and fumble at the clasp on his robe. The marks will disappear with a simple Potion should Draco choose to use it, but for some reason he allows Potter his illusion of possessiveness. Draco’s fingers twitch with the need to touch and grope, and there’s only so much restraint he can be expected to have at his age. He can’t be expected to employ any of it when Potter is pushing the robe off his shoulders, and yanking at Draco's shirt as though it should come off of its own accord. Because The Great Harry Potter commands it to.
That trick doesn't work on a Malfoy.
It’s moments such as these that Draco is obviously supposed to assist in his own debauchery, and being the kind soul he is, he’s only too willing to help. He never liked this shirt anyway, and no arithmancy equation could make it compare to the feel of Potter’s nails scraping down his torso. There is certainly nothing that could ever compare to Potter’s tongue artfully flicking against Draco’s nipples before blowing very cool air against them.
It’s the sudden change in temperature that makes his voice hitch.
“You’ll know when that happens.”
The sight of Potter on his knees is quite possibly the whole reason that Draco started this sordid business in the first place. If it’s not the main reason, then it's certainly a very pleasant bonus. Of course the very loud groan that Potter emits when he finally unfastens Draco’s trousers and pulls them down could also be another persuasive component. Whether it’s the third time or the thirtieth, Draco will never grow tired of the way that Potter nuzzles his groin and sighs when he comes towards the end of removing Draco’s clothes.
Shoes, socks, trousers all removed reverently.
For someone who treats his own clothes with such abandon and seems to take no pleasure in them, Potter certainly enjoys removing *Draco’s* clothes. Considering that it is Draco, however, it can’t really be that big of surprise. Still, the look on Potter’s face should be less smug and more rhapsodic, or something to that effect. Whatever Draco chooses to call it, a word alone will not convey the feeling of Potter licking a line from the inside his thigh, upwards, until he's mouthing Draco's hipbone.
“Do you really think you can get rid me that easily?”
Draco is well aware that Potter has become obsessed with his hipbones; he has the suck marks and the fingerprints to prove it. If they weren’t proof enough of Potter's attraction to his body, the vice grip that Potter uses when he pulls Draco down onto the floor and onto his lap would convince anyone.
If evidence were *still* required, it could be found in Draco kneeling over Harry Potter's hips and lightly running his fingertips along Potter's inner arm, over his shoulder, up Potter's neck and rubbing them against full lips. Of course that only lasts until Potter takes hold of Draco's hand and licks his wrist with a wet mouth.
“You’re not the one in charge here.”
Potter’s breath is damp and warm against Draco’s neck when he makes his first thrust inside. If Draco’s hands weren’t fisted in Potter’s hair and he wasn’t so busy panting out his disagreement, he might be in danger of doing something stupid, like kissing Potter on the mouth. Or telling Potter how good it feels.
Somewhere in the back of his mind Draco thinks that this agreement needs a special clause of some sort: ‘What To Do In Case of Ambush by Dominating Potter.' Of course he doesn’t say so, instead he locks his legs tighter around Potter’s waist and ignores the feel of his skin scraping off against the stone wall.
He’s not listening to Potter whispering in his ear.
“Neither are you.”
+++
My girl wrote Harry/Ron, and it’s happy. I thought she was going to stroke out, bless. Also,
holographis wrote Harry/Draco, and dude. Sniffle.For the record I have not lost the plot with all this sappy business. There will be pain – just not in this particular series.
Contract IV: The Clause
Improv: vice, grip, throat, flutter
For Kassie
Draco studies Potter’s breathing as though he expects it to stop at any moment. It’s not so much that Potter might die from happiness as he might die just to spite Draco. To keep Draco waiting for the rest of his Malfoy-given life.
Potter keeps brushing his lips over Draco’s forehead and his eyes and his nose, and if he’s not kissing Draco then, really, all this is a waste of time. But Draco is not going to ask Potter to kiss him, he’s not. All the same, Potter might suddenly disappear, or be killed, and leave Draco waiting forever – that would be unacceptable. Potter is sadistic enough to do that to him, Draco’s certain of it.
If Potter can ambush Draco on the way to dinner, and drag him into a storage cupboard of some sort – which has very good lighting considering there’s only one window letting in light from the full moon - there’s no telling what else he’s capable of. Draco has to be on his guard because Potter worries his lip in Potions, and brushes against Draco when he uses the cauldron. Draco’s fully expecting Potter to show up one day with nothing under his robe and then Draco will combust due to over-exposure to a Gryffindor – like his great, great, great, great, great uncle on his mother’s side that was Erased - and his father will bring him back from the dead just to kill him again.
“Well, *this* is certainly different.”
Potter is the sort that would inspire Draco to break a million rules, and then make sure he’s caught doing something trivial like kicking Mrs. Norris. Draco isn’t fooled by the honorable facade the way everyone else seems to be. Draco knows that Potter bites and scratches and likes to be on top. Draco knows that Harry Potter likes to be licked in the crook of his arm and writhes incessantly when Draco nuzzles his neck.
Potter is probably ticklish; and the flutter of the pulse in Potter’s neck beats in time with the twitch of Draco’s left eye. Potter makes him nervous in ways that Draco can’t - won’t - define, and the sight of Potter growing more and more naked never fails to shock him. Draco continually thinks he’s over it, until the next time they’re together, and he finds out he’s still wrong. It’s not that Potter is some bastion of beauty and flawless skin, in fact he’s quite the opposite, and Draco is inexorably drawn to that.
Potter’s knees are rough from a childhood he never talks about, and there are scars on his back and his abdomen. Draco likes to lick them slowly with his tongue and listen to Potter moan.
Draco spends a lot of time making Potter moan.
“I wouldn’t want you to get bored.”
Potter always seems to spend more time undressing Draco than undressing himself. One day Draco will make him stop that, but for the present, Draco is content to allow a very naked Harry Potter to leave bites marks on his neck and fumble at the clasp on his robe. The marks will disappear with a simple Potion should Draco choose to use it, but for some reason he allows Potter his illusion of possessiveness. Draco’s fingers twitch with the need to touch and grope, and there’s only so much restraint he can be expected to have at his age. He can’t be expected to employ any of it when Potter is pushing the robe off his shoulders, and yanking at Draco's shirt as though it should come off of its own accord. Because The Great Harry Potter commands it to.
That trick doesn't work on a Malfoy.
It’s moments such as these that Draco is obviously supposed to assist in his own debauchery, and being the kind soul he is, he’s only too willing to help. He never liked this shirt anyway, and no arithmancy equation could make it compare to the feel of Potter’s nails scraping down his torso. There is certainly nothing that could ever compare to Potter’s tongue artfully flicking against Draco’s nipples before blowing very cool air against them.
It’s the sudden change in temperature that makes his voice hitch.
“You’ll know when that happens.”
The sight of Potter on his knees is quite possibly the whole reason that Draco started this sordid business in the first place. If it’s not the main reason, then it's certainly a very pleasant bonus. Of course the very loud groan that Potter emits when he finally unfastens Draco’s trousers and pulls them down could also be another persuasive component. Whether it’s the third time or the thirtieth, Draco will never grow tired of the way that Potter nuzzles his groin and sighs when he comes towards the end of removing Draco’s clothes.
Shoes, socks, trousers all removed reverently.
For someone who treats his own clothes with such abandon and seems to take no pleasure in them, Potter certainly enjoys removing *Draco’s* clothes. Considering that it is Draco, however, it can’t really be that big of surprise. Still, the look on Potter’s face should be less smug and more rhapsodic, or something to that effect. Whatever Draco chooses to call it, a word alone will not convey the feeling of Potter licking a line from the inside his thigh, upwards, until he's mouthing Draco's hipbone.
“Do you really think you can get rid me that easily?”
Draco is well aware that Potter has become obsessed with his hipbones; he has the suck marks and the fingerprints to prove it. If they weren’t proof enough of Potter's attraction to his body, the vice grip that Potter uses when he pulls Draco down onto the floor and onto his lap would convince anyone.
If evidence were *still* required, it could be found in Draco kneeling over Harry Potter's hips and lightly running his fingertips along Potter's inner arm, over his shoulder, up Potter's neck and rubbing them against full lips. Of course that only lasts until Potter takes hold of Draco's hand and licks his wrist with a wet mouth.
“You’re not the one in charge here.”
Potter’s breath is damp and warm against Draco’s neck when he makes his first thrust inside. If Draco’s hands weren’t fisted in Potter’s hair and he wasn’t so busy panting out his disagreement, he might be in danger of doing something stupid, like kissing Potter on the mouth. Or telling Potter how good it feels.
Somewhere in the back of his mind Draco thinks that this agreement needs a special clause of some sort: ‘What To Do In Case of Ambush by Dominating Potter.' Of course he doesn’t say so, instead he locks his legs tighter around Potter’s waist and ignores the feel of his skin scraping off against the stone wall.
He’s not listening to Potter whispering in his ear.
“Neither are you.”
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no subject
Date: 2002-11-21 11:27 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2002-11-21 06:15 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2002-11-21 11:46 am (UTC)::is fucking ecstatic::
i was worried that the last one would be it! ::is so very pleased that it wasn't::
i just... wow and yum and i just can't seem to say anything intelligent, i'm too busy squeeing like a fangirl.
::is sorry::
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Date: 2002-11-21 06:16 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2002-11-22 08:32 am (UTC)i mean, uh... that's too bad?
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Date: 2002-11-21 06:17 pm (UTC)What a lovely sentiment. I'm glad you enjoy it, thanks!
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Date: 2002-11-21 06:19 pm (UTC)I'm glad you're enjoying it, I'd enjoy it too if I could at least figure out where it's going. *g* As for Dr. Laura ::shudders violently:: if they could make everything a little less obvious, I might like her more. Or not.
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Date: 2002-11-21 02:46 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2002-11-21 06:19 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2002-11-21 04:16 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2002-11-21 06:23 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2002-11-21 06:29 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2002-11-21 09:28 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2002-11-21 08:22 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2002-11-21 09:31 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2002-11-22 12:23 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2002-11-22 08:59 am (UTC)Yeah, I think my opinion on the matter is pretty clear, you know? :)
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Date: 2002-11-22 07:58 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2002-11-22 09:03 am (UTC)If you are thrilled then I am thrilled. Really, I'm just killing time until ToS comes out. *g* What? I'm serious. I mean have you noticed the complete lack of anything substantial apart from lots of sex - which for the record, I generally never write, but what can you do? I mean I am helpless in the face of naked Draco. ::sighs longingly::
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Date: 2002-11-23 06:36 pm (UTC)This, seriously, just rocks me in so many ways. Absolutely fantastic. Every line is wonderful, and the imagery is just, god, so many different shades of lovely and really, really sexy. And hot. Yeah, a lot of the hotness. I love the dynamic here, with the questions and the conversation amidst the backdrop of almost desperate foreplay/sex, it's just divine and works so well. And I keep feeling the need to reiterate the hotness. Cos, damn.
Draco knows that Potter bites and scratches and likes to be on top.
Like, right there? That is why I read fanfic, man. Because lines like this, and fics like this, and writers like you just make it all worthwhile.
no subject
Date: 2002-11-23 07:56 pm (UTC)have I mentioned that you are like my bestest cheerleader ever, cos you know, you are. ::hugs sara until her face turns blue::