hd365_mod (hd365_mod) wrote in hd_365, @ 2006-12-06 03:55:00 |
|
|||
Current mood: | rushed |
Current music: | The Planets -- Gustav Holst |
Tuesday fic for Weather prompt
Original poster: rurounihime
Title: The Sudden Storm
Author: rurounihime
Rating: hard R
Word count: 1,391
Summary: doesn't get one because I am pressed for time.
A/N: Going off of the P story arc. Have to post this fast because I am being kicked off the computer.
Disclaimer: The HP characters do not belong to me.
...
The Sudden Storm
The rain thundered down on Draco’s head, plastering his hair to his forehead and filling his eyes with water. He slicked the sheen away with one dripping hand and peered into the blustering darkness. The deep shadows of tormented trees bent and snapped before him, blacker than black against the dark thunderheads above. Beside him, Tonks rubbed her face.
“Maybe we should go back?” Her voice sounded broken and ghostly under the howling wind.
“No,” Draco answered almost immediately. No. His sleeves were a drenched and sopping mass against chilled skin, his shirt sucking against his chest as if it were a second hide. He blinked, past cold, past shivering, and waited on the balls of his feet.
A crack that might have been a branch sounded in the twist of the forest beyond his sight. Tonks hissed and pointed her wand, and Draco raised his, aiming at the gloom in case it was not Harry Apparating to them.
Footsteps. The wind lulled for an instant and Draco could hear them, quick and strong like the thud of his own heart. He shoved Tonks back into the shadow of the nearest tree. “Watch it!” he hissed.
A figure stumbled out of the void, hunched against the torrent. Draco saw the glint of glass lenses and stepped back into sight. Harry raised his head, water streaming from his hair.
“You alright?” Draco murmured. Harry nodded, wincing and rolling his left shoulder.
“He’s gone. Bloody bastard used a spell.”
Tonks grabbed both their arms, hauling them into the looming cover of the tree. “Farnsworth had a wand? Are you hurt?”
Harry dashed the rain from his face with his forearm. “No, I’m fine. It wasn’t Farnsworth, but someone—”
“Harry?” Draco broke in, pulling close to the other man’s ear so that he could be heard. Clutching Harry’s shoulder to reassure himself of his presence in the bleak, tortured night. When Harry didn’t answer, Draco cupped his face with one hand. “Harry.”
“Arse couldn’t aim,” Harry said in a low voice. “Blasted half the trees into tinderwood.”
The storm seemed to inhale around them. Tonks looked out into the gusting wind. “Farnsworth was our only source—”
Harry shook his head. “He’s dead. I’m sure of it. Someone didn’t want me talking to him, and for good reason. He would have given us everything, I know it! Everything about P, but someone—” His fist shot out, slammed into the tree trunk.
In the quiet that followed, Draco encircled Harry’s wrist with his fingers.
“We have to get out of here,” Tonks muttered. “We’ll never find whoever it was now.”
“Ministry? We should report this.”
“No,” Tonks said, too swiftly. Draco peered at her. She drew a breath. “There’ve been developments. Write your report at home, charm it into gibberish, and give it directly to Kingsley tomorrow. No one else reads it, do you understand?”
After a moment, Harry nodded. Draco said nothing, only gazed at Tonks through the dripping rain.
* * *
Harry sighed audibly in the darkness of the hallway. Draco heard him kicking off his shoes. Outside the wind blew, but the flat was quiet, muffled. Displaced. Draco could feel water dripping from his own fingertips.
“Harry.”
A face obscured by darkness turned toward him. Draco stared at it, willing features into view, but the shadows were too thick.
He licked his lips. Spoke into the silence. “Farnsworth’s dead?”
Harry did not move. His familiar frame was a cut-out shade against the lighter living room beyond. “Spell went off right under his feet. He couldn’t have survived.”
Draco stood in the darkness and listened to the timbre of the other man’s voice. He could feel Harry staring at him, but couldn’t see his eyes.
A hand reached out and touched his sodden sleeve. “You’re soaking,” Harry said softly. Fingers gripped, plucked. Harry stepped closer and Draco felt body heat that wasn’t his. Fingertips worried the buttons on his shirt.
There was a frenzy to the movements that Harry’s quiet tone had belied.
“What are we involved in, Draco?” Almost despairing. Draco’s heart seized at the cracks in the words. He caught Harry’s face in his hands, slid them around to grasp the nape of his neck and tugged him close. Harry’s body was quivering, shaking. Draco found his mouth by instinct and tongued deep, coaxing until Harry let out a soft sob and wrapped his arms around him, squeezed him so tightly that for a moment, Draco could not breathe.
“Harry,” he hissed, and Harry’s arms loosened. Hands clasped at his shirt and pulled it off in one nervous jerk. Pressed him into the door and kissed him hard enough to bruise. Draco shoved his hands under Harry’s collar and heard fabric rip. Cool air trembled against the damp skin of his thighs as Harry yanked his trousers down and hoisted him bodily against the door. Fumbling fingers gripped his hip, slid around and between his legs. Draco broke the kiss and leaned his head back against the wood, and worked on getting air into his lungs. Felt Harry’s movements become more careful, if no less urgent.
“Oh,” he hissed as Harry pressed two fingers inside him. Draco heaved backward, wrapped his legs higher on his lover’s waist, and jerked futilely at Harry’s belt-line. Harry pressed him to the door breathlessly, bit at his throat. Rubbed Draco nearly to climax as he worked his own flies open. Draco tangled his hand in soaking black hair. He knew he was probably pulling too hard, but was not able to care. A hand curled around him and stroked roughly upward. Down, up, down, and Draco writhed against the door, arousal flooding through him so abruptly that he couldn’t stop the heady moans that burst from his own throat. Harry whispered a word and Draco’s mouth opened, panting, gasping repeatedly at the sensation between his legs. Not a spell they used often, but damned effective.
Harry tugged his body up even higher, running fingers down his spine. He rolled his own hips forward, and Draco bit his lip at the feeling of being full. Filled. He hissed between his teeth, jerked Harry forward. Felt hard, desperate thrusts that rocked him up the door’s expanse, rubbing his bare shoulders against dry wood. Draco arched, curled, arched again, and heard Harry curse. Felt him find a new grip. Teeth sparked against his throat, hot and sharp with sensation. Harry’s hand gripped, stroked him hard, almost too hard, just— enough— friction— Draco squeezed his legs as tightly as he could and Harry’s hand left him, came up and wove into his hair, pulling his head forward, his body, changing the angle—Draco let out a long, broken moan, shuddered for an eternity, felt Harry thrust—
Came—
Harry tugged him closer, even closer, moved so frantically that Draco couldn’t tell the breaths from the sobs. His body quaked, sudden and fierce, and then muscles slumped, relaxed, became jelly. Harry slid helplessly down the wall, clutching Draco against him as if he were the breath of life.
Draco shut his eyes and breathed, realised that he was still making helpless mewling sounds with each exhalation, and eased himself into silence once more. He stroked Harry’s head. Gripped handfuls of his hair and released. Pressed his mouth to the top of Harry’s head, but did not have enough breath to kiss him.
Harry’s lips moved faintly against the skin of his throat. “Sorry… Don’t know why I—” A great, shuddering inhalation. “You alright?”
Draco let out what would have been a laugh if he’d had the strength just then. “I’m wonderful,” he managed to whisper. “Are you alright?”
Harry gave a soft snort. “I’m… It’s gone. Draco, I’m… I’m…”
He could feel his lover struggling. Draco kneaded his fingers against the nape of Harry’s neck and felt sweat and rainwater and warm, pliant skin. “It’s okay. Everyone has to break down sometime, Harry.”
The only response he got was a trembling, open-mouthed kiss at the curve of his neck.
“Did I hurt you?” Harry whispered.
Draco let out a weak chuckle and kissed his lover’s forehead. The wealth of feeling, of gratefulness he had for this man soared up so quickly his eyes burned. “Not a chance, Harry. Not a bloody chance you could ever hurt me.”
~fin~