hackthis_archive (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
hackthis_archive) wrote2002-11-23 07:50 pm
hackthis_archive) wrote2002-11-23 07:50 pm
Too much sap is bad for the teeth
I think ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
ethrosdemon is going to flog me if I keep making her look at this. Someone is obviously going to have to die - or at least suffer for a really long time - when this series is over.
Contract V: The Proposal
Dedicated to my own personal cheerleader,addictedkitten
No one would call two boys lying entwined, naked, on a heap of discarded clothing ‘innocent‘. Not that Draco cares what anyone else thinks; he owes explanations to no one. Well, perhaps one person, but if he gets discovered with a naked Harry Potter by said person there will be no explanations, just a very painful pre-death Crucio.
But locked away, as they are right now, Draco can pretend that that's not the case. He can pretend that tracing a line with his index finger, from a scar, over a rounded nose and down to full lips, is not the worst idea that he's had in the last sixteen years of his life. Not that Draco has ever been one for pretending, but everything starts somewhere, and he should start as he means to go on. Not that anything is starting. Everything is already in progress.
Changes are not acceptable.
Besides, considering that he’s currently lying on his back, using his trousers for a pillow, with Potter lying on folded arms on top of his chest, Draco thinks that denial may not be a bad place to be. Especially if it’s like this at any time of year.
He knows what they must look like.
He knows what they are: a picture of debauched, well, debauchery.
“We can’t keep hiding, you know.”
Draco can't begin to count how much time he's recently spent with his fingers tangled in Potter's hair. He's found glossy black strands on his robe in Charms and on the hem of his trousers during Transfiguration. There's no reason for Potter to be shedding like a niffler, but sometimes Draco likes to grab hold of Potter's hair in great fistfuls, so that could be it. Draco relishes the way that Potter lets him control his movements, as though Draco has him under Imperio. Other times, like now, Draco finds himself combing through the inky mass and smoothing it down, as though it will listen to him and reach some semblance of order.
Stranger things have happened.
Considering all the other things that have rained upon Draco’s head recently - sex with Harry Potter all over the castle for a start - Draco would not be surprised. He's shagging the Daily Prophet's poster boy after all. Looking at the pair of them now, splayed out on the floor of yet another abandoned classroom, albeit, one two floors up from the one Potter accosted him in two days ago, Draco reckons nothing will surprise him soon. After all, Potter finally allowed Draco to show him the proper method of undressing for a secret assignation, so Mordred only knows what comes next. Soon Potter will want to hold hands in Potions and sit together during meals, and then Draco will have to jump off Gryffindor tower because the world will be ending.
Shortly thereafter the Dark Lord will appear and invite Potter for tea.
“We are not hiding.”
Draco does not want to have this conversation - ever - and when he shifts his hips slightly, Potter's chin slips off his folded fingers disturbing the entire post-coital balance they‘ve established. Potter's breath feels disturbingly warm on Draco's stomach, and it causes Draco's breathing to hitch. There's stirring from parts that should be in hibernation now, and Draco can feel his toes moving reflexively. Apparently Draco's feet have a great attachment to rubbing against Potter's calves, and the rest of Draco's body has similar thoughts. Regardless of the opinions of his nether regions, Draco releases Potter's hair, and waits patiently while Potter gets his bearings again. It's not that he's being considerate; it's just that there's a breeze coming in from somewhere, possibly the stones on the floor, and Potter’s body keeps him warm. Yes, that's it, of course.
“Yes, we are.”
Potter blinks behind his glasses, and Draco follows suit for no reason at all. For some reason, this evening Draco has had the strongest urges regarding Gryffindor mimicry. When Potter reaches out and touches Draco’s hair, Draco touches him back. When Potter bit his shoulder, Draco left him a matching mark. Now that Potter has gone back to drawing patterns on Draco’s abdomen, Draco has taken to tracing swirls on Potter's shoulder. It's simply extraneous energy. Draco just wants to be annoying.
He has no overwhelming desire to touch Potter.
He is not attempting to memorize Potter's features in case of accident.
There's no reason for him to reach out and rub the soft spot behind Potter's ear.
“No, we’re not.”
One of them will have to move soon; both of them will have to leave.
Potter apparently has some sort of late night Quidditch practice, and Draco, Draco has a study session with Snape. If he's late again, there's a chance that his Head of House might poison him since as far as Draco can tell transfiguration has never been Snape's weapon of choice. Of course he could be wrong, but Draco doubts that Snape would want to explain to Professor McGonagall why Slytherin’s seeker is unable to ride his broom come Saturday afternoon. An explanation that Draco takes great relief in as he has no desire to be a ferret again, but perhaps Potter would like another pet, and -- no. Draco has no desire to be kept in a cage by Harry Potter, literally or figuratively.
Whatever Potter's attempting to trap him into doing, it won't work.
“I don’t want to hide anymore.”
Until this very second, Draco has had no hint of Potter wanting anything of this sort. It’s the equivalent of being hit by a rogue bludger while sitting in the Three Broomsticks having a drink - it‘s so completely unexpected as to be absurd. Potter must be further gone than anyone's suspected. Draco always knew all that time around Muggles was bad for ones' mental health
“You must be mad. Absolutely not.”
Not hide. As in go public? As in broadcasting to the entire school that they’re doing - well, whatever they’re doing?
No.
Potter‘s suggestion would be laughable if the entire idea didn’t reek of St. Mungo’s and The Leaky Cauldron. Potter has obviously been in the butterbeer or the firewhiskey, or again, there’s always the tried-and-tested Imperio. It’s quite obvious to Draco that something is horribly amiss because who could want something more than this, and why? Why look for trouble where there doesn’t have to be any?
Potter wants something *more*. More than sex and touching and *this*?
Never.
It's quite obvious that Potter hasn't even thought through this proposal, if had, he would know that this is not in the contract. This was never a part of the rules; the suggestion alone is practically an anti-rule. There are no provisos for relationships and emotions that Draco refuses to name.
Of course there was no room for kissing on the mouth either, but that was a loophole, and this is different. No matter what Potter attempts to say, or not say, he’s attempting to corner Draco, and *that* is unacceptable.
“Look -“
This discussion, or lack thereof, will have to end. There are some things that even Draco won't bring himself to do.
“No.”
Draco will not be a partner or a lover or domesticated. He has not become so accustomed to this state of affairs that he can‘t end it at will. He simply has to relax and get a hold of the situation once again. This is *his* deal. *He* is in charge. If anyone is to make a decision or set terms it will be him; and *he* never asked for anything more than a simple agreement. Any other sort of arrangement is unthinkable. It would be inappropriate and foolhardy and asking for trouble of a sort that Draco will not deal with, not for anyone.
No matter how they may straddle his waist and look at him plaintively.
Neither nails on his chest nor lips on his mouth nor a very enticing grind of hips will change Draco's mind. It will happen for no one.
Not even Harry Potter.
“But --”
Draco never made a contingency for this sort of problem. This was only to be a bit of fun, but if Potter doesn’t see it the same way then they’ve reached an impasse. Things will only get harder from here. It's not a pun - it could be, but it's not. It's not funny, either. This situation suddenly lacks in the amusement category, and Draco has always prided himself on his cracking sense of humour, but this is different. This is something new and foreign, and Draco has no prior experience to draw from, because if he did, he never would have found himself in this mess in the first place. Draco’s chest feels extraordinarily heavy with Potter leaning on him, and he’s suffocating under a mountain of problems that didn‘t exist thirty seconds ago. At this moment he can see them all spiraling away from him like a runaway Rememberall.
However, Draco has resolve; he’s strong. Draco was born to power and taught not to break. If fathers and dark lords and responsibilities can't break him, then Harry Potter pulling away and leaving him with a sudden onslaught of goosepimples is nothing for him to fear. He’s not scrambling to sit up. He’s going to relax and do everything on his own time. Draco keeps his own schedule; he conforms to no one else.
Ultimatums are not accepted.
“No.”
ethrosdemon is going to flog me if I keep making her look at this. Someone is obviously going to have to die - or at least suffer for a really long time - when this series is over.Contract V: The Proposal
Dedicated to my own personal cheerleader,
addictedkittenNo one would call two boys lying entwined, naked, on a heap of discarded clothing ‘innocent‘. Not that Draco cares what anyone else thinks; he owes explanations to no one. Well, perhaps one person, but if he gets discovered with a naked Harry Potter by said person there will be no explanations, just a very painful pre-death Crucio.
But locked away, as they are right now, Draco can pretend that that's not the case. He can pretend that tracing a line with his index finger, from a scar, over a rounded nose and down to full lips, is not the worst idea that he's had in the last sixteen years of his life. Not that Draco has ever been one for pretending, but everything starts somewhere, and he should start as he means to go on. Not that anything is starting. Everything is already in progress.
Changes are not acceptable.
Besides, considering that he’s currently lying on his back, using his trousers for a pillow, with Potter lying on folded arms on top of his chest, Draco thinks that denial may not be a bad place to be. Especially if it’s like this at any time of year.
He knows what they must look like.
He knows what they are: a picture of debauched, well, debauchery.
“We can’t keep hiding, you know.”
Draco can't begin to count how much time he's recently spent with his fingers tangled in Potter's hair. He's found glossy black strands on his robe in Charms and on the hem of his trousers during Transfiguration. There's no reason for Potter to be shedding like a niffler, but sometimes Draco likes to grab hold of Potter's hair in great fistfuls, so that could be it. Draco relishes the way that Potter lets him control his movements, as though Draco has him under Imperio. Other times, like now, Draco finds himself combing through the inky mass and smoothing it down, as though it will listen to him and reach some semblance of order.
Stranger things have happened.
Considering all the other things that have rained upon Draco’s head recently - sex with Harry Potter all over the castle for a start - Draco would not be surprised. He's shagging the Daily Prophet's poster boy after all. Looking at the pair of them now, splayed out on the floor of yet another abandoned classroom, albeit, one two floors up from the one Potter accosted him in two days ago, Draco reckons nothing will surprise him soon. After all, Potter finally allowed Draco to show him the proper method of undressing for a secret assignation, so Mordred only knows what comes next. Soon Potter will want to hold hands in Potions and sit together during meals, and then Draco will have to jump off Gryffindor tower because the world will be ending.
Shortly thereafter the Dark Lord will appear and invite Potter for tea.
“We are not hiding.”
Draco does not want to have this conversation - ever - and when he shifts his hips slightly, Potter's chin slips off his folded fingers disturbing the entire post-coital balance they‘ve established. Potter's breath feels disturbingly warm on Draco's stomach, and it causes Draco's breathing to hitch. There's stirring from parts that should be in hibernation now, and Draco can feel his toes moving reflexively. Apparently Draco's feet have a great attachment to rubbing against Potter's calves, and the rest of Draco's body has similar thoughts. Regardless of the opinions of his nether regions, Draco releases Potter's hair, and waits patiently while Potter gets his bearings again. It's not that he's being considerate; it's just that there's a breeze coming in from somewhere, possibly the stones on the floor, and Potter’s body keeps him warm. Yes, that's it, of course.
“Yes, we are.”
Potter blinks behind his glasses, and Draco follows suit for no reason at all. For some reason, this evening Draco has had the strongest urges regarding Gryffindor mimicry. When Potter reaches out and touches Draco’s hair, Draco touches him back. When Potter bit his shoulder, Draco left him a matching mark. Now that Potter has gone back to drawing patterns on Draco’s abdomen, Draco has taken to tracing swirls on Potter's shoulder. It's simply extraneous energy. Draco just wants to be annoying.
He has no overwhelming desire to touch Potter.
He is not attempting to memorize Potter's features in case of accident.
There's no reason for him to reach out and rub the soft spot behind Potter's ear.
“No, we’re not.”
One of them will have to move soon; both of them will have to leave.
Potter apparently has some sort of late night Quidditch practice, and Draco, Draco has a study session with Snape. If he's late again, there's a chance that his Head of House might poison him since as far as Draco can tell transfiguration has never been Snape's weapon of choice. Of course he could be wrong, but Draco doubts that Snape would want to explain to Professor McGonagall why Slytherin’s seeker is unable to ride his broom come Saturday afternoon. An explanation that Draco takes great relief in as he has no desire to be a ferret again, but perhaps Potter would like another pet, and -- no. Draco has no desire to be kept in a cage by Harry Potter, literally or figuratively.
Whatever Potter's attempting to trap him into doing, it won't work.
“I don’t want to hide anymore.”
Until this very second, Draco has had no hint of Potter wanting anything of this sort. It’s the equivalent of being hit by a rogue bludger while sitting in the Three Broomsticks having a drink - it‘s so completely unexpected as to be absurd. Potter must be further gone than anyone's suspected. Draco always knew all that time around Muggles was bad for ones' mental health
“You must be mad. Absolutely not.”
Not hide. As in go public? As in broadcasting to the entire school that they’re doing - well, whatever they’re doing?
No.
Potter‘s suggestion would be laughable if the entire idea didn’t reek of St. Mungo’s and The Leaky Cauldron. Potter has obviously been in the butterbeer or the firewhiskey, or again, there’s always the tried-and-tested Imperio. It’s quite obvious to Draco that something is horribly amiss because who could want something more than this, and why? Why look for trouble where there doesn’t have to be any?
Potter wants something *more*. More than sex and touching and *this*?
Never.
It's quite obvious that Potter hasn't even thought through this proposal, if had, he would know that this is not in the contract. This was never a part of the rules; the suggestion alone is practically an anti-rule. There are no provisos for relationships and emotions that Draco refuses to name.
Of course there was no room for kissing on the mouth either, but that was a loophole, and this is different. No matter what Potter attempts to say, or not say, he’s attempting to corner Draco, and *that* is unacceptable.
“Look -“
This discussion, or lack thereof, will have to end. There are some things that even Draco won't bring himself to do.
“No.”
Draco will not be a partner or a lover or domesticated. He has not become so accustomed to this state of affairs that he can‘t end it at will. He simply has to relax and get a hold of the situation once again. This is *his* deal. *He* is in charge. If anyone is to make a decision or set terms it will be him; and *he* never asked for anything more than a simple agreement. Any other sort of arrangement is unthinkable. It would be inappropriate and foolhardy and asking for trouble of a sort that Draco will not deal with, not for anyone.
No matter how they may straddle his waist and look at him plaintively.
Neither nails on his chest nor lips on his mouth nor a very enticing grind of hips will change Draco's mind. It will happen for no one.
Not even Harry Potter.
“But --”
Draco never made a contingency for this sort of problem. This was only to be a bit of fun, but if Potter doesn’t see it the same way then they’ve reached an impasse. Things will only get harder from here. It's not a pun - it could be, but it's not. It's not funny, either. This situation suddenly lacks in the amusement category, and Draco has always prided himself on his cracking sense of humour, but this is different. This is something new and foreign, and Draco has no prior experience to draw from, because if he did, he never would have found himself in this mess in the first place. Draco’s chest feels extraordinarily heavy with Potter leaning on him, and he’s suffocating under a mountain of problems that didn‘t exist thirty seconds ago. At this moment he can see them all spiraling away from him like a runaway Rememberall.
However, Draco has resolve; he’s strong. Draco was born to power and taught not to break. If fathers and dark lords and responsibilities can't break him, then Harry Potter pulling away and leaving him with a sudden onslaught of goosepimples is nothing for him to fear. He’s not scrambling to sit up. He’s going to relax and do everything on his own time. Draco keeps his own schedule; he conforms to no one else.
Ultimatums are not accepted.
“No.”
Re: continued awe and admiration
::looks slightly bashful:: wow. thank you so much, i'm thrilled that you're still enjoying this. i know i keep saying that, but only because it's true. *g*