Subterranean Homesick Alien (charlotteschaos) wrote in safesexhp,
Subterranean Homesick Alien

  • Mood:

FIC: My Eyes Burn Naked, H/D, NC-17, One-shot

[Title] My Eyes Burn Naked
[Author] </a></b></a>charlotteschaos
[Pairing] Harry/Draco
[Rating] NC-17
[Warnings] Slash, sexual confusion
[Disclaimer] Characters belong to JK Rowling.
[Genre] Angst/Drama
[Summary] Harry finds Draco in a Muggle club.
[Notes] For the 'We're Not Sitting Around Eating Bon-Bons!' traditional androgyny challenge at andropotterist.
[Word Count] 1623
[Beta] </a></b></a>cravache

Her hips swayed to the music, lean muscles covered by stretched black fabric. She was in a universe all of her own on the dance floor. Colored lights illuminated her hair and her pale, pointed face. A flash of lips and then the curtain of long, silvery hair feathered over her face, shadowing her visage from view.

She was small and fey and stood out amongst the men in the gay club. It should have been Harry's first hint; he was just too blinded by lust to care. Preferences aside, her skin and hair radiated in the black light when the gaudy spots swirled away. She was ethereal, beautiful, and glowed in all of the ways that her tight, long-sleeved shirt and tight pants did not.

No one dared to dance with her. She was untouchable, swaying and shifting with her eyes closed, translucent lashes fluttering over blue-white skin. Harry made his move, approaching slowly from the bar. His body undulated with the beat, feeling the bass line so strong he felt it throbbing within his veins and into the hardness of his prick, as if it had become his pulse. He groaned as careless dancers pressed against him, thrilling him with the randomness of public frottage, the mutual muttering as other men groped him, feeling his hardness against their fingers, thighs and asses.

Harry slipped behind her, matching her strides, her shoulder sway with hip sway. Her head turned slightly, she sensed him. Her movements slowed, became more controlled until Harry slid his arms around her thin waist. She ground back against him, pressing her pert ass against his length. Hearing him whimper in her ear, she let her head fall back against his shoulder and turned her face against his, too close to properly see. Nuzzling his neck, she thrust against him again, teasing his cock.

Now that he was so close, feeling the hard muscles, too hard to really be feminine, he wasn't sure that she was a she. His hands moved up to the flat chest, feeling that it was broader than the he'd thought it to be under the illusion of the lights. Then he heard the moan. A masculine moan.

Harry smirked and kept one arm up around the other man's chest. His other hand slid down the lean torso, teasing over the brief fabric to dip below the beltline. He found the swell of the other man's cock and teased his fingers over it. The man groaned and pushed his arse more insistently against Harry, wanting more. "You're beautiful," Harry whispered against the pale pink ear.

The man's body stiffened and then he answered in a too-familiar drawl. "I know."

Harry stopped dead, still gripping the other man's prick as his mind flipped through a series of faces to go with the voice. Almost as if he wanted to deny whom he knew that drawl belonged to.

In a neat turn, Draco twirled around in Harry's arms and gazed at him through hazy grey eyes. Under the bright blue light, Draco looked more feminine than he did masculine. The luminosity refined the sharpness of his features into something androgynous, or maybe Harry was just drunk.

Harry stared down at Draco's visage, the few inches he had on him seemed a bigger gap than it was. A thousand thoughts cluttered his mind about where Draco had been during the war, and how he'd ended up at a Muggle dance club. Why Draco was here and why wasn't he screaming about Harry touching him? Every thought shut down as Draco forced his hips forward, sliding his cock against Harry's. "Merlin."

"Here, they cry out for god," Draco responded during a break in the music. His hands glided down to grip Harry's arse, the music flared up again, this time with a faster, more frantic tempo. He pulled his hips forward, controlling just how far Harry could move away before Draco ground harder against him.

"Why are you here?" Harry gasped into his ear, shuddering at the stimulation and the dirtiness of doing this here, in public, on the dance floor.

"I'm here to dance. And get fucked. Isn't that why everyone comes here?" Draco slipped a hand between them and he felt out Harry's erection. Groaning at the size of it, he slid his other hand up into Harry's dark hair and tugged it.

It wasn't at all what Harry was asking, but at this point, he didn't care what kind of answer Malfoy gave. Just so long as he kept touching him. He wasn't even alarmed as Malfoy began to drag him through the club, wading through the sea of bodies with his hand on Harry's cock like a short leash.

The arrogance, the haughty sneer, none of this had left Malfoy's presence. People moved without being asked, as if they sensed the cold burn of Draco's glare before it reached them.

Under the harsh fluorescent blaze of the bathroom lights, Draco looked feral with darkened eyes, but no less that odd mishmash of feminine and masculine features that had initially summoned Harry to the dance floor. In a heartbeat, Draco was on him, crashing them into a stall, kissing him brutally, biting at his bottom lip as he clawed open Harry's trousers.

Barely able to keep up with Draco, Harry peeled the tight fabric down from the blonde's narrow hips. The hard smack of the weight of Draco's prick against his belly sent startling chills up his spine. Harry felt something cool and wet sliding over his length and looked down in shock to see Draco rolling a rubber down his shaft.

Seeing the question in Harry's eyes, Draco whispered, "I'm positive." Then he turned around, shuffling his pants down and drew a leg out of them. He pressed his cheek against the cold, red metal door and gripped his hands over the top.

"Draco..." Harry blinked at him, trying to rationalize what that meant.

"Shut up and fuck me, Potter. It's safe with that on." Draco's eyes lowered. Even with the death sentence over his head, even naked, splayed out for Harry, he still carried a proud dignity that even a grimy bathroom fuck couldn't tarnish.

"Right." Harry touched his latex-covered prick, it was lubricated enough. Adjusting himself against Draco's hole, he pushed in smoothly, pressing his chest tightly against Draco's back.

Draco met his strokes with a vicious force. His face grew flushed and his skin glistened as his fingers tried to dig into the metal.

The bathroom was an orgy of long sniffs, low grunts, moans, running taps, and murmured conversations. It was alive with the scents of sex, coppery come, the tang of urine and antiseptic soap. Harry contributed his loud gasping and Draco his wailing cries as their bodies slapped together in stark claps. Releasing a hand from the cubicle, Draco wrapped it around his cock. He hung loosely by his fingers from the door, the crown of his head pressed against it as he worked against Harry. His neck muscles flexed and his face pinched up.

Being inside of Draco felt tight and so very hot. The way Draco matched his thrusts, and bore down around him made Harry's vision tunnel as he tried to hold on. At last, he heard Malfoy gasp and felt him seize up. Harry stopped concentrating and just let go, giving an enunciated thrust that signaled his release. He pumped into him a few more times, finishing himself off. Harry's attention fixed on how Malfoy's spandex shirt that had rolled midway up his back. He slid his fingers tenderly along the exposed spine. "How long?"

"It was a good five minutes." Draco grabbed some tissue to wipe his leavings from the door and threw them into the toilet as he righted himself, shoving Harry away.

"I meant, how long have you been positive?" Harry frowned at Draco and pulled off the rubber and tossed it on top of the soiled toilet paper.

Draco shrugged. "A few months. Snape's working on a potion..."

Nodding sadly at him, Harry reached out to hold him. Draco batted his hands away and instead bent down to gather up his trousers. He struggled to get the taut plackets to come together over his emaciated frame.

"Is that why you disappeared?" asked Harry.

"No. I disappeared to avoid the war."

"Was choosing a side that hard?"

"There wasn't a side that was to my advantage." Draco finished his struggle and buttoned his trousers and tucked his shirt back in. "I didn't want to die. Ironic, isn't it?"

Part of Harry felt stupid for how sad he was for Draco. "You could come back, you know."

Draco snorted and leaned against the cubicle wall. Loud grunts emanated from the stall next to them, an echo of what they'd just done.

"They'll find a cure." Harry was desperate for Malfoy to come back with him to the Wizarding world, or at least to his flat. He reached out to caress Draco's cheek.

Draco leaned into it and let the other man touch him briefly. Then he stepped back. "Disappearing was the smartest thing I ever did." He gave Harry a wry grin, and then leaving nothing but the memory of his smile like the enigmatic Cheshire cat, he vanished with a loud crack.

Harry reached out and stroked the air where he'd stood, pondering Draco's parting words. Should he go after him? But where? How? His Apparation was too sudden to have run a trace. What could he do even if he found him? There was no cure. Pushing it from his mind, he flushed the toilet and watched the rubber and tissue swirl and vanish, and drifted out of the club alone.
  • Post a new comment


    default userpic