At the gym, part 20
Oct. 14th, 2017 12:53 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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dracoharry100Title: At the gym, 20
Author:twisted_miracle
Team: death eaters
Word count: 100x5
Characters/pairings: Harry/Draco
Rating: Rated R
Challenge: low
Disclaimer: They aren't mine, they belong to the clever Scottish lady. I just bend them and love them. Please don't smack me for playing. It isn't like I am going to earn any money from this!
Author's note: Comments are love!
Part one: http://dracoharry100.livejournal.com/1217516.html
Part 19: https://dracoharry100.dreamwidth.org/149932.html#cutid1
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Draco stood, stepped away.
Harry took Draco’s wrist and with it, Draco’s full attention.
“You like praise?” Harry said, voice low and dangerous. “That’s easy. You’re almost comically beautiful. I never want to stop kissing your beautiful face, stroking your silken hair, grabbing and fucking your perfectly round, high, tight arse. You’re mine now, Draco Malfoy. I own you. You’ll undress and open for me every weekend until one of us dies or you utter your safeword. Prepare to get fucked, sucked, rimmed and adored within an inch of your life, wizard-man. You wanted to be bested? You have been.”
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
“May I go, Master?” Draco spat. He was still unwilling to safeword and still unwilling to think hard about why.
“Not ‘Master,’” Harry chided, eyelids low. “Just Harry. And yes. But don’t forget to return. Friday night,”
“Eight o’clock,” Draco finished. Raising his wand, he Apparated home.
* * *
Monday morning Draco woke at five, worked out, showered, Flooed to work. There he buried himself in paperwork.
Just before lunch, he took a small, pristine rectangle of parchment and with his nicest, most expensive quill, he wrote: Bubblegum. He stared at the word he’d written. But he did not summon his owl.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
All day Draco’s little rectangle of parchment sat, un-sent, burning a hole in his brain. He stroked it. Folded and unfolded it. Placed it in his lowest, furthest drawer, then pulled it out again, needing to see it.
Monday evening it went home in his pocket.
It came back to work with him Tuesday morning.
* * *
Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Draco stared at the note he’d written. “Bubblegum.” He smoothed it in his fingers as he calculated risks, rolled it with his fingers as he checked costs.
Friday at six, he slipped it in his pocket and left with it again.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Draco arrived home with that safeword in his pocket and began to prepare for his date with Harry. Draco exfoliated, cleansed, and depilated his skin. When he was done the bathwater was tepid, he’d no hair left but on his scalp, and that was as straight, shiny, and smooth as glass. His face was cleaner and smoother than it had been in weeks. And that was saying something, as Draco was quite fastidious.
But when he raised his wand to Apparate to Harry’s doorstep, the safeword sat in the front breast pocket of his suit jacket: parchment smoothed; ink freshened.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Draco knocked on Harry’s door at 8pm to the second. Harry opened the door immediately. Hope, fear, need and surprise warred for control of his eyes.
Instead of entering, Draco pulled the parchment from his pocket and displayed it. Harry’s face fell. A rockslide of knowing despair.
But Draco did not hand the parchment to Harry, and Harry didn’t take it.
“I wrote this Monday morning,” Draco confessed, low and overwhelmed, even to his own ears. “I’ve held it all week. I’ve never managed to owl it to you.”
“Why?” Harry asked, his shoulders high, his hands in his pockets.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Part 21: https://dracoharry100.dreamwidth.org/153847.html#cutid1
Author:
twisted_miracleTeam: death eaters
Word count: 100x5
Characters/pairings: Harry/Draco
Rating: Rated R
Challenge: low
Disclaimer: They aren't mine, they belong to the clever Scottish lady. I just bend them and love them. Please don't smack me for playing. It isn't like I am going to earn any money from this!
Author's note: Comments are love!
Part one: http://dracoharry100.livejournal.com/1217516.html
Part 19: https://dracoharry100.dreamwidth.org/149932.html#cutid1
Draco stood, stepped away.
Harry took Draco’s wrist and with it, Draco’s full attention.
“You like praise?” Harry said, voice low and dangerous. “That’s easy. You’re almost comically beautiful. I never want to stop kissing your beautiful face, stroking your silken hair, grabbing and fucking your perfectly round, high, tight arse. You’re mine now, Draco Malfoy. I own you. You’ll undress and open for me every weekend until one of us dies or you utter your safeword. Prepare to get fucked, sucked, rimmed and adored within an inch of your life, wizard-man. You wanted to be bested? You have been.”
“May I go, Master?” Draco spat. He was still unwilling to safeword and still unwilling to think hard about why.
“Not ‘Master,’” Harry chided, eyelids low. “Just Harry. And yes. But don’t forget to return. Friday night,”
“Eight o’clock,” Draco finished. Raising his wand, he Apparated home.
Monday morning Draco woke at five, worked out, showered, Flooed to work. There he buried himself in paperwork.
Just before lunch, he took a small, pristine rectangle of parchment and with his nicest, most expensive quill, he wrote: Bubblegum. He stared at the word he’d written. But he did not summon his owl.
All day Draco’s little rectangle of parchment sat, un-sent, burning a hole in his brain. He stroked it. Folded and unfolded it. Placed it in his lowest, furthest drawer, then pulled it out again, needing to see it.
Monday evening it went home in his pocket.
It came back to work with him Tuesday morning.
Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Draco stared at the note he’d written. “Bubblegum.” He smoothed it in his fingers as he calculated risks, rolled it with his fingers as he checked costs.
Friday at six, he slipped it in his pocket and left with it again.
Draco arrived home with that safeword in his pocket and began to prepare for his date with Harry. Draco exfoliated, cleansed, and depilated his skin. When he was done the bathwater was tepid, he’d no hair left but on his scalp, and that was as straight, shiny, and smooth as glass. His face was cleaner and smoother than it had been in weeks. And that was saying something, as Draco was quite fastidious.
But when he raised his wand to Apparate to Harry’s doorstep, the safeword sat in the front breast pocket of his suit jacket: parchment smoothed; ink freshened.
Draco knocked on Harry’s door at 8pm to the second. Harry opened the door immediately. Hope, fear, need and surprise warred for control of his eyes.
Instead of entering, Draco pulled the parchment from his pocket and displayed it. Harry’s face fell. A rockslide of knowing despair.
But Draco did not hand the parchment to Harry, and Harry didn’t take it.
“I wrote this Monday morning,” Draco confessed, low and overwhelmed, even to his own ears. “I’ve held it all week. I’ve never managed to owl it to you.”
“Why?” Harry asked, his shoulders high, his hands in his pockets.
Part 21: https://dracoharry100.dreamwidth.org/153847.html#cutid1
no subject
Date: 2017-10-14 09:03 pm (UTC)But if his cocky behaviour was because wants to take care of Draco and make sure that he doesn't overwork himself and tries to find a way of making Draco relax, while not really knowing how to get through to the blond, then that sounds like Harry Potter again.
Am I making any sense?
no subject
Date: 2017-10-14 10:13 pm (UTC)Do consider that if Draco had owled that safeword, he couldn't have assumed that Harry would be there 8pm Friday night. He had Harry on a hook, and by not releasing him, he retained control. Now they can talk in person, and that's exactly what's going to happen next. It's already half-written, actually. I'll refine it when I know the next prompt. And I think this arc finishes next week, too, so this week is probably a bad time to stop reading it!
no subject
Date: 2017-10-16 02:29 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2017-10-16 03:22 am (UTC)(uh, no pun intended!)
no subject
Date: 2017-10-25 04:56 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2017-10-25 05:31 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2017-10-29 04:04 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2017-10-29 05:53 am (UTC)