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bottom_dracoSorry, Had to repost because I tried to edit the last one and it spazed out on me.
***
Title: Admission
Author: son_of_darkness
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Rating: PG13 (No shagging unfortunately)
Summary: PWP. Set after Harry and Co. have graduated. Draco is a professional Quidditch player who receieves an unexpected visit from a certain Boy-Who-Lived.
Warnings: Mild Violence.
Diclaimer: J.K.Rowling owns them. I just borrow them and do perverse things with them. I am making no money or profit from this... which is a shame, really.
Draco touched down on the Quidditch field after his first professional game, playing seeker for Pride of Portree. It wasn't his first choice, but it beat going into Ministry work. After his father had been tried and convicted as a Death Eater, all the assets had been transferred to himself. He had no desire to do anything with them, nor did he want to stay in the manor, so it sat, collecting dust, while he rented a flat in Hogsmeade.
He wondered if he should have put it to use, maybe made an inn out of it, or something. All he knew at the moment though, as he walked to the showers, was that he was free. No more school, no more Dark Lord anymore thanks to Potter, and no more Lucius Malfoy. He no longer had to stand in his father's shadow, trying to live up to his reputation. He was his own person now, and that person was in desperate need of a shower.
However, something was preventing him from entering the locker room, in the form of a very familiar figure leaning against the door.
"Potter," he said, cautiously, watching the way the taller boy’s lips twisted into a smirk when he approached. “I presume you aren’t here to congratulate me on my game” He drawled, as he shifted his weight to his left foot and leaned against his broom. “That would be almost sickeningly humble of you.”
Potter seemed amused and moved over slightly so he was now leaning to one side against the door frame. “Congratulations, Malfoy.” He said, still smirking at the blonde. Draco scoffed and rolled his eyes tiredly. There really was no need for this, and Potter was probably the last person he wanted to be in the presence of right now anyway.
“I was watching from the Ministry box. Really good seats up there, great view too.”
Potter actually sounded as if he were gloating. Draco was slightly taken aback by the darker boy’s tone and frowned at him sceptically. “Why were you in the Ministry box, Potter? I know you’re not working there!”
Potter raised an eyebrow. “You do?” he asked quizzically. “And how would you know that, Malfoy? Unless you had inside sources.” He was teasing, Draco was right. He wasn’t working for the Ministry but he might as well have some fun with this for a while.
“What?! Is this what this is, Potter? Come to see if Malfoy junior is walking in Daddy‘s footsteps?”
Potter was glad to see Malfoy was easily riled.
“Believe me, Potter. If I wanted you dead, you’d be dead! Now get out of my way.” He stepped forward towards the door but Potter didn’t move. “Is this you being stubborn or just stupid?!” He asked, glaring at the dark haired boy.
Potter simply chuckled at the flush in Malfoy’s cheeks. Obviously it wasn’t going to take much before things got interesting, the blonde was already well on his way to being totally irate, that much was evident in his eyes and in the twitching of his fingers as he gripped his broom handle firmly. Not a word was spoken for a few moments and then Malfoy tried once again to get passed, only to have his way blocked, once again, by a very amused looking rival.
“Have it your way, Potter! He said, finally breaking the silence. He sniffed indignantly, turned and began walking in the opposite direction, intent on using one of his other team mates changing room.
“Malfoy.” Potter called after him, stepping aside and giving him clear access to the door. “Use your own room, I’m bored now anyway.”
He sounded so immature, Malfoy thought, sighing and making his way towards the door. And this way the Wizarding World’s great hero? Really. It was pathetic. No… Potter was pathetic.
He avoided making eye contact as there really was no point in giving the buffoon any more ammunition. This probably wouldn’t be the last time he ran into Potter like this, the boy would probably stalk him. It seemed since graduating from Hogwarts, Malfoy had grown up and Potter had simply regressed.
He was only a few feet from the door, ready to reach for the handle when he was blocked again, as Potter slid back in front of it.
That was enough! He wasn’t even going to ask Potter to move this time. Instead, he raised a fist, pulled it back and swung it full force at his face. Unfortunately the move had been anticipated and the dark haired boy was able to move out of the path of the speeding limb, just in time to watch it make solid contact with the changing room door.
“FUCK!” Was the first word out of Malfoy’s mouth as he hurriedly pulled his hand back and shook it out, dropping his broom as he turned round to once again try and land a punch on Potter’s face. This time, it landed, but was nowhere near as hard as he was hoping for, as Potter merely counteracted it with a right hook then sent Draco stumbling backwards until he tripped over his own broom and landed with a ’oomff’ to the floor, hearing a sickening snapping round as he landed.
“You broke my broom, Potter!!”
“I didn’t touch your broom, Malfoy!” Potter snapped back, standing in a sturdy fighting stance, as he watched Malfoy push himself to his feet with the splintered half of his Nimbus 2001 broom handle in one clenched fist. Potter was going to have to think this fight though if he was to avoid being battered to death. He did have a physical advantage. He was taller and not as petite as Malfoy, but on the other hand, he wasn’t wielding a rather painful and dangerous looking length of wood.
The first swing narrowly missed his face, but the second one caught him on the shoulder as he turned to protect his neck from the attack. Moving back quickly and ducking out of the way, the third swing went whistling above his head and he took the opportunity to give Malfoy a hard punch in the gut. It worked. The blond bent over and clutched his stomach, momentarily distracted with the pain, but not so that he didn’t see Potter trying to snatch the weapon from his hand. He swung again and caught Potter’s knuckles with a cracking sound that seemed to echo through the corridor.
“Bastard!”
Potter backed off, checking to see if his hand was broken. It didn’t feel broken and he could still move it, but he was pretty sure he wouldn’t be throwing many more punches with that hand. So instead, he lunged at Draco with his other fist raised and brought it down on his back, sending him to his knees. The pain that shot through his shin as Draco caught him on the bone with his broom wasn’t enough to make him back off again through, as Draco had hoped, and instead, the smaller boy soon found himself being shoved backwards, until he was lying rather uncomfortable on the other half of his broom, with Potter straddling him. He had lost his hold on his weapon as Potter had pushed him and as he reached for it, he found that he was too late. Potter was already there so both teenagers fought over it. One pair of slightly tanned hands with uneven bitten fingernails, and one pair of pale, perfectly manicured ones both getting scratched and scraped as each boy tried to wrestle the length of broken broom from the other’s grasp.
It wasn’t a fair fight as there was teeth, knees and occasionally elbows involved, but eventually the pale hands lost their grip.
Draco hardly had time to gasp, let alone fight back as he felt the broom handle being pressed down painfully hard on his windpipe.
“Give it up, Malfoy. You’ve never won a fight with me, and you never will!” Potter growled, keeping the pressure on Draco’s throat as he watched him slowly getting redder and redder.
“Fu-ck… y….” Was all Draco could splutter out. He tried to counter the pressure on his throat but putting his hands underneath the broom and trying to push it back, but he really was no match for Potter and Gravity when they were playing on the same team.
More pressure, and Potter smirked. “Oh, you’d love to, wouldn’t you?” he whispered, moving closer to the blonde’s face, close enough to kiss him if he wanted. “It’s one of your sick little fantasies, isn’t it? And it has been since the very first time you saw me.”
Draco just coughed in response, his face going from red to purple as there was now no oxygen getting to his blood at all. His eyes watered and felt as if they were being pushed slowly out of his skull.
“Admit it, and I’ll let you go.” Potter purred into his ear, watching the way his chest heaved with failed attempt after failed attempt to suck air into his lungs. Draco coughed again, obviously trying to speak and rolled his eyes to the side so as to look at Potter. Surely Potter wouldn’t kill him would he? Was it even possible for him to do it? He didn’t have it in him. No, He didn’t have to say anything, Potter would have to let him go soon. But he was in pain and his vision was getting very blurry and fading slowly to different shades of blue and purple.
“Just a nod, Malfoy.” Came the silky purr again, followed by a soft, wet tongue making it’s way up the edge of his ear. Now the blue was turning into black and Potter wasn’t a person anymore, but a blur of black, olive and emerald green.
“Ye….” Was all Draco could manage before he passed out.
***
Title: Admission
Author: son_of_darkness
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Rating: PG13 (No shagging unfortunately)
Summary: PWP. Set after Harry and Co. have graduated. Draco is a professional Quidditch player who receieves an unexpected visit from a certain Boy-Who-Lived.
Warnings: Mild Violence.
Diclaimer: J.K.Rowling owns them. I just borrow them and do perverse things with them. I am making no money or profit from this... which is a shame, really.
Draco touched down on the Quidditch field after his first professional game, playing seeker for Pride of Portree. It wasn't his first choice, but it beat going into Ministry work. After his father had been tried and convicted as a Death Eater, all the assets had been transferred to himself. He had no desire to do anything with them, nor did he want to stay in the manor, so it sat, collecting dust, while he rented a flat in Hogsmeade.
He wondered if he should have put it to use, maybe made an inn out of it, or something. All he knew at the moment though, as he walked to the showers, was that he was free. No more school, no more Dark Lord anymore thanks to Potter, and no more Lucius Malfoy. He no longer had to stand in his father's shadow, trying to live up to his reputation. He was his own person now, and that person was in desperate need of a shower.
However, something was preventing him from entering the locker room, in the form of a very familiar figure leaning against the door.
"Potter," he said, cautiously, watching the way the taller boy’s lips twisted into a smirk when he approached. “I presume you aren’t here to congratulate me on my game” He drawled, as he shifted his weight to his left foot and leaned against his broom. “That would be almost sickeningly humble of you.”
Potter seemed amused and moved over slightly so he was now leaning to one side against the door frame. “Congratulations, Malfoy.” He said, still smirking at the blonde. Draco scoffed and rolled his eyes tiredly. There really was no need for this, and Potter was probably the last person he wanted to be in the presence of right now anyway.
“I was watching from the Ministry box. Really good seats up there, great view too.”
Potter actually sounded as if he were gloating. Draco was slightly taken aback by the darker boy’s tone and frowned at him sceptically. “Why were you in the Ministry box, Potter? I know you’re not working there!”
Potter raised an eyebrow. “You do?” he asked quizzically. “And how would you know that, Malfoy? Unless you had inside sources.” He was teasing, Draco was right. He wasn’t working for the Ministry but he might as well have some fun with this for a while.
“What?! Is this what this is, Potter? Come to see if Malfoy junior is walking in Daddy‘s footsteps?”
Potter was glad to see Malfoy was easily riled.
“Believe me, Potter. If I wanted you dead, you’d be dead! Now get out of my way.” He stepped forward towards the door but Potter didn’t move. “Is this you being stubborn or just stupid?!” He asked, glaring at the dark haired boy.
Potter simply chuckled at the flush in Malfoy’s cheeks. Obviously it wasn’t going to take much before things got interesting, the blonde was already well on his way to being totally irate, that much was evident in his eyes and in the twitching of his fingers as he gripped his broom handle firmly. Not a word was spoken for a few moments and then Malfoy tried once again to get passed, only to have his way blocked, once again, by a very amused looking rival.
“Have it your way, Potter! He said, finally breaking the silence. He sniffed indignantly, turned and began walking in the opposite direction, intent on using one of his other team mates changing room.
“Malfoy.” Potter called after him, stepping aside and giving him clear access to the door. “Use your own room, I’m bored now anyway.”
He sounded so immature, Malfoy thought, sighing and making his way towards the door. And this way the Wizarding World’s great hero? Really. It was pathetic. No… Potter was pathetic.
He avoided making eye contact as there really was no point in giving the buffoon any more ammunition. This probably wouldn’t be the last time he ran into Potter like this, the boy would probably stalk him. It seemed since graduating from Hogwarts, Malfoy had grown up and Potter had simply regressed.
He was only a few feet from the door, ready to reach for the handle when he was blocked again, as Potter slid back in front of it.
That was enough! He wasn’t even going to ask Potter to move this time. Instead, he raised a fist, pulled it back and swung it full force at his face. Unfortunately the move had been anticipated and the dark haired boy was able to move out of the path of the speeding limb, just in time to watch it make solid contact with the changing room door.
“FUCK!” Was the first word out of Malfoy’s mouth as he hurriedly pulled his hand back and shook it out, dropping his broom as he turned round to once again try and land a punch on Potter’s face. This time, it landed, but was nowhere near as hard as he was hoping for, as Potter merely counteracted it with a right hook then sent Draco stumbling backwards until he tripped over his own broom and landed with a ’oomff’ to the floor, hearing a sickening snapping round as he landed.
“You broke my broom, Potter!!”
“I didn’t touch your broom, Malfoy!” Potter snapped back, standing in a sturdy fighting stance, as he watched Malfoy push himself to his feet with the splintered half of his Nimbus 2001 broom handle in one clenched fist. Potter was going to have to think this fight though if he was to avoid being battered to death. He did have a physical advantage. He was taller and not as petite as Malfoy, but on the other hand, he wasn’t wielding a rather painful and dangerous looking length of wood.
The first swing narrowly missed his face, but the second one caught him on the shoulder as he turned to protect his neck from the attack. Moving back quickly and ducking out of the way, the third swing went whistling above his head and he took the opportunity to give Malfoy a hard punch in the gut. It worked. The blond bent over and clutched his stomach, momentarily distracted with the pain, but not so that he didn’t see Potter trying to snatch the weapon from his hand. He swung again and caught Potter’s knuckles with a cracking sound that seemed to echo through the corridor.
“Bastard!”
Potter backed off, checking to see if his hand was broken. It didn’t feel broken and he could still move it, but he was pretty sure he wouldn’t be throwing many more punches with that hand. So instead, he lunged at Draco with his other fist raised and brought it down on his back, sending him to his knees. The pain that shot through his shin as Draco caught him on the bone with his broom wasn’t enough to make him back off again through, as Draco had hoped, and instead, the smaller boy soon found himself being shoved backwards, until he was lying rather uncomfortable on the other half of his broom, with Potter straddling him. He had lost his hold on his weapon as Potter had pushed him and as he reached for it, he found that he was too late. Potter was already there so both teenagers fought over it. One pair of slightly tanned hands with uneven bitten fingernails, and one pair of pale, perfectly manicured ones both getting scratched and scraped as each boy tried to wrestle the length of broken broom from the other’s grasp.
It wasn’t a fair fight as there was teeth, knees and occasionally elbows involved, but eventually the pale hands lost their grip.
Draco hardly had time to gasp, let alone fight back as he felt the broom handle being pressed down painfully hard on his windpipe.
“Give it up, Malfoy. You’ve never won a fight with me, and you never will!” Potter growled, keeping the pressure on Draco’s throat as he watched him slowly getting redder and redder.
“Fu-ck… y….” Was all Draco could splutter out. He tried to counter the pressure on his throat but putting his hands underneath the broom and trying to push it back, but he really was no match for Potter and Gravity when they were playing on the same team.
More pressure, and Potter smirked. “Oh, you’d love to, wouldn’t you?” he whispered, moving closer to the blonde’s face, close enough to kiss him if he wanted. “It’s one of your sick little fantasies, isn’t it? And it has been since the very first time you saw me.”
Draco just coughed in response, his face going from red to purple as there was now no oxygen getting to his blood at all. His eyes watered and felt as if they were being pushed slowly out of his skull.
“Admit it, and I’ll let you go.” Potter purred into his ear, watching the way his chest heaved with failed attempt after failed attempt to suck air into his lungs. Draco coughed again, obviously trying to speak and rolled his eyes to the side so as to look at Potter. Surely Potter wouldn’t kill him would he? Was it even possible for him to do it? He didn’t have it in him. No, He didn’t have to say anything, Potter would have to let him go soon. But he was in pain and his vision was getting very blurry and fading slowly to different shades of blue and purple.
“Just a nod, Malfoy.” Came the silky purr again, followed by a soft, wet tongue making it’s way up the edge of his ear. Now the blue was turning into black and Potter wasn’t a person anymore, but a blur of black, olive and emerald green.
“Ye….” Was all Draco could manage before he passed out.
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no subject
Date: 2004-01-29 06:34 pm (UTC)I want the rest of it.
Soon.
Wow. You can't just spring something like that on a person, without the rest of it being there. It's soo unfair.
Re:
Date: 2004-01-30 09:20 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-01-30 01:16 pm (UTC)X.
Ashe
Re:
Date: 2004-01-30 03:46 pm (UTC)