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hackthis_archive) wrote2003-01-14 06:33 pm
hackthis_archive) wrote2003-01-14 06:33 pm
Well, yes, it is Harry/Harry. Kinda
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bonibaru has been amazingly patient with me over the last week, so this is for her perverse pleasure. I think it meets her requirements.Harry Potter
Alone Together
“What do you see?” he whispers to the boy in the mirror, but he hears nothing back. Just the scrabbling of fingers and zippers filling a chasm of silence. The lack of noise settles over him like a spell, but it’s just Harry in the mirror after all.
He shouldn’t expect a response.
Black specs, green eyes, tremendously stubborn hair, and when Harry Number One blinks, so does his reflection. Harry might be a little obsessed with himself, but that’s to be expected: he’s all he should care about in the end.
And it’s not a very sudden realisation; it could have come at any time. This epiphany just happened to occur in the loo on the train this time.
Harry thinks he should learn better control.
It’s such a little room; and it doesn’t leave Harry any place to put his hands. The walls are practically closing in, trying to prevent what he’s doing – as though they're under orders from the Ministry. Harry braces himself against tiling and then against metal wanting to keep from being boxed in.
Everyone wants Harry Potter in a box. One day he’ll be available on shelves or something, and the gelid metal of the toilet makes him whimper, too cold against bare skin. So he shifts again, and again, like an animal inside a cage. All Harry can do is scrabble for a hold he’s never going to get, and the entire time there are these obscene noises playing inside his head.
The muscles in his stomach flutter in warning, and he finally settles down. Hands white-knuckling a porcelain basin, further exacerbating the crack that’s already by the cold water tap. Harry doesn’t notice this. He doesn’t notice the faucet’s chronic drip or the crack in the mirror. He just notices himself, and his glowing reflection.
All Harry hears is his own panting. It echoes in his ears incessantly and a part of him thinks it needs muffling. There’s the shy, introverted Harry that would give anything for the wet sounds to stop, but they can’t. He can’t. He won’t, and Harry can’t stop whimpering.
There’s sweat beading on his forehead as he leans forward and rests his head on a mirror that’s deceptively cold. Harry's lips are wet, and he can see his own tongue skating against his teeth. It’s just him, nothing he hasn’t already seen, but fascinating all the same.
Eventually he pulls away, but wet skin plus cold surface equals stickiness, and Harry can see his skin adhering to the mirror as he moves away.
He’s so close now; he can see it in his own eyes. Hands gripping tighter, noises being wrenched from places he doesn’t want to acknowledge. There’s a part of him that wants this never to stop, and he bites his lip trying to decide exactly what he wants, as the slap of skin on skin clouds his decision-making capabilities.
Harry would give anything for a clearer head. All he has to do is open the little window and let some air in, but maybe not. Maybe Harry doesn’t mind being this close to suffocation, and somebody’s going to want to use the loo soon. He doesn’t really care.
The gasping starts up soon enough, it's almost painfully disturbing.
Almost.
As disturbing as disembodied voices and hands in places that he didn’t put them. The mirror swings dangerously close to Harry’s nose as the train goes over something that was probably alive this morning. And Harry doesn’t care. He doesn’t care about anything but himself and the runaway train he’s on right now.
When he comes, Harry wants to close his eyes. He tries and fails, and instead he sees himself falling apart a thousand times over. A thousand Harry’s crying out just for him.
The spell is broken when Draco clambers to his feet, and invades what little space Harry’s created for himself.
“What do you see?” Draco whispers in Harry’s ear, as he reaches around Harry’s waist to wash off his hands.
“I see me.”
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*tries to rememeber how to think*
*hell, tries to remember how to BREATHE*
that was... neat.
i mean... wrong somehow, but still neat.
narcissist!harry.... who would've thunk it?
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i mean... wrong somehow, but still neat.
Hahahaha! That's what my beta said, she was like 'it's so right, but damn it's wrong.'
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disturbing yet good. really... good. i think that's probably one of (if not -the-) most realistic description of harry being in-character and sexual that i've seen in fanfic. i mean, -yes-, i think he'd kind of disturb -himself-, and he wouldn't be comfortable and yet he's always given in to his instincts, hasn't he.
i love the intensity, the emphasis of being out of control, of not being quite himself, being lost and yet not wanting to stop and just, -wanting-.
mmm~:) obviously, my quibbles with plot-line and characterization nonwithstanding, what i really want is smut ^^
hee~
~reena
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disturbing yet good. really... good. i think that's probably one of (if not -the-) most realistic description of harry being in-character and sexual that i've seen in fanfic.
Is it really disturbing? Everyone keeps mentioning this, and to me, well apart from some strange logistics... okay, yes, nevermind. I can see what y'all are getting at. But as long as it works out that's okay, right?
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Oh damn.
Come back lips. I need you to formulate a proper response.
Stop sucking on the screen and pretending its one of the frames in Harry's glasses.
That was brilliant.
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Stop sucking on the screen and pretending its one of the frames in Harry's glasses.
That was brilliant.
::laughs:: I'm glad you enjoyed it.
*gurgle*
Re: *gurgle*
Re: *gurgle*
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It more than met my requirements.
I'm framing this and hanging it on my fucking wall!
I so love you. I may have said this eight or nine times. But it's true. Thank you thank you thank you!
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It more than met my requirements.
I'm framing this and hanging it on my fucking wall!
I so love you. I may have said this eight or nine times. But it's true. Thank you thank you thank you!
::laughs:: you're so cute. keep that in mind the next time i come begging for beta help ;)
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So he shifts again, and again, like an animal inside a cage, and all Harry can do is scrabble for a hold he’s never going to get.
*can do nothing more than just nod 'yes'*
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Thank you so much, I'm glad you enjoyed it.
*shriek*
drool drool drool
hackthis, you rule.
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Well done! Beautifullt well done! I think the characterization completely rings true, especially after the fourth book. Why wouldn't a Harry so completely beseiged on both sides turn inwards to himself? Yes!
And it's hot too. Gravy, pure gravy.
Thanks.
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*thunk*
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I am very confused