hd365_mod (hd365_mod) wrote in hd_365, @ 2006-02-10 15:54:00 |
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Entry tags: | moonflower-fic, prompt 3: song lyrics |
Original poster: moonflower_rose
Title: Life Lines
Author: moonflower_rose
Wordcount: 1, 100 (ish)
Summary: Draco is too young to have wrinkles.
Rating: PG13-soft R
Warnings: Fluff and romance. Call your dentist, you may develop cavities after reading this fic.
A/N: The song used for this prompt is Time Out From The World by my favourite, Goldfrapp (Supernature album). For the six or so days, you can download it here , or email me if the link has expired and you still would like to hear it. Lyrics are at the bottom of the fic.
Disclaimer: Yes, it is all mine and I am making SO much profit from it that I am filthy rich and bathing in liquid gold. Or, you know, not.
When he woke, it was to the feeling of fingertips grazing ever so gently across his face.
Draco heard himself make a terribly embarrassing mewling noise; involuntary in the back of his throat as he sighed in the hazy fog of almost-awake. His eyes seemed unwilling to open for a few minutes, but eventually he was blinking sleepily and looking up at Harry, who was leaning over him; green eyes heavy-lidded, touching Draco’s face with just the lightest of strokes.
“Hey.”
“Hello.” Draco blinked again, and offered an amused half-smile. “What are you doing?”
Harry continued to let his fingertip wander across Draco’s skin, his eyes following the movement intently. It travelled the length of his brow, and down the bridge of his nose to the tip. It curved to the right and traced the swell of his cheek. It slipped along the angle of his jaw, and circled the cleft of his chin. It brushed very delicately across his mouth, and Draco couldn’t help his lips from parting just a little in response. Harry’s other hand was at his throat, the pads of his fingers smoothing up and down, pausing to dip into the hollows around his collarbones and shoulders.
“Watching you.”
Harry’s voice was low and Draco could feel the rumble in his chest where their torsos were touching. There was something about the look in his eyes and the tone of his voice that caused Draco’s heart to beat slightly irregularly; something that caused his cock to grow hard against his thigh, and a flush to rise across his cheeks.
“Why?”
Harry didn’t pause in his caress.
“You frown sometimes in your sleep. Or smile sometimes. I follow all your little lines.”
Draco’s own fingers found Harry’s body in the shadows of the morning light. Sunlight pierced the grey in golden shafts through the blinds, illuminating Harry’s body a little more with each passing minute. Draco ran his hands along Harry’s ribs, spreading across his back. He could feel Harry’s skin, hot and velvety under his palms; muscles firm beneath his fingers.
“I don’t have any lines Harry. I’m too young to have lines.”
They both laughed a little breathlessly, and Draco had the feeling he was about to be kissed, or fucked.
“You do too. You have these ones here,” Harry touched the side of Draco’s mouth, where his lips curved into a grin. “Those ones are from when you smile at me in that way that makes me feel like I just did something brilliant. And right over there,” now he brushed the corner of Draco’s eye, where his lashes met his eyelid, and it was impossible for Draco to resist fluttering his eyes closed for a moment. “Right over there are the ones from where you squint when you’re concentrating very hard on something. Like the Saturday crossword, or sucking my cock,” Draco shivered, anticipation surging through his veins. “And these ones on your forehead,” he ran a finger lightly above Draco’s eyebrows. “They come from your worry. You might pretend otherwise, but I know you worry about me, and us, and the future. You worry so much that there’s a faint little furrow right there.” Harry traced it with his fingertip.
Draco laughed again, not much more than a slight puff of air from his lungs.
“So I have lines, do I? I’ll have to do something about them; otherwise you might not want a wrinkly old paper bag like me anymore.”
Harry’s fingers stopped at his lips; the pad of his thumb pushing against his mouth, slipping inside and past Draco’s teeth. His thumb settled against Draco’s tongue, and he licked it, Harry’s skin rough and salty.
“Not wrinkles Draco. Lines. Life lines. It’s a story about where we’ve been and what we’ve done. I’d never want them gone. I want to remember it forever, every time I look at you.”
“Harry…”
Draco had always scoffed at the phrase ‘making love’. Before he met Harry. They had sex together; they fucked like rabbits and shagged themselves to exhaustion. But more and more often, as time went by, they made love. The words still sounded silly when he said them aloud, but he wanted to say it; wanted to ask, to beg to be loved, right now. It seemed, though, that Harry understood, even when all Draco had managed was to whisper his name.
“Yes.”
They kissed, unhurried at first. A slow tasting of each others mouths that rapidly became frantic. Draco rarely needed much in the way of preparation, of late. They were fucking, making love, every single day, and all that was required these days was a whispered lubrication charm, and then Harry was inside him. Just as he was now, suddenly, fulfillingly there. They moved and sighed and held onto each other tightly. And when he came it was in a rush of blinding light behind his eyelids, and with a clenching of his entire self. Harry did that to him. Harry made him come with his whole body, not just his cock; Harry made him come with his soul.
“We changed the world, just you and I.”
Harry whispered it into his neck, sweaty hair pressing against Draco’s jaw, and the pleasant weight of his body on top of him.
“We still are. You keep changing my world, at any rate.”
Harry moved to look at him again, with that intense green stare that penetrated all of Draco’s masks without effort. He wanted to say I love you; this was the perfect moment to just let it slip from his lips. But it was so hard to say, the words were foreign shapes in his mouth and sounded silly and fake in his voice. Yet they weren’t foreign, or silly, or fake – not inside his head, or his heart. He tried to tell Harry all of this with his eyes, feeling that wrinkle – that line – furrow on his forehead as he worried about his inability to voice what he so desperately felt. He may not have been raised to value those three little words, but he had come to understand their worth, and that other people did value them, very much. People like Harry, who told him he was loved all the time, and meant it in every instance.
“It’s alright. It’s alright Draco.”
Harry raised his hand to smooth his forehead, wiping the line of worry away. He knew. Even though Draco had never managed to say it aloud, Harry knew it anyway, and forgave him his weakness. He bent to kiss Draco again, and amongst the bliss he always felt when Harry kissed him, he felt determination. One day, one day soon, Draco was going to manage to say it. Because Harry deserved to hear it.
Time Out From The World
Breathing in your sip of gold
I follow all your little lines
I like to watch a thousand times
I want to feel you here
I like to watch a thousands times
I make a shrine for you
Time out from the world
Leaving it all
Just for a day
You like there's a down
Hold me and round
Take us a day?
Here I go, I'm going back
On every word you ever said
I'm dreaming of another time
Yesterday my alibi
We changed the world, just you and I
I make a shrine for you