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Sep. 28th, 2008 10:04 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
nicevennTitle: Snow and Sex in Switzerland
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Rating: NC-17
Wordcount: 1,050
Disclaimer: Characters and HP universe belong to JKR and publishers. Loaded Questions is a trademark of All Things Equal, Inc.
Summary: A ski trip provides the perfect distraction for one broken-hearted Harry Potter.
But what will happen when he comes back to his senses?
It was with great difficulty that Draco opened his eyes to a squint to find the source of the irritating bickering that had woken him from a deep sleep. Sand seemed to be shifting beneath his eyelids.
“Look, he’s awake,” said one of the voices.
Two identical faces, both topped with a head of flaming red hair suddenly appeared, looking down at him.
“How are you feeling?”
Draco found it difficult to speak. His throat felt dehydrated and his head seemed to weigh about a hundred pounds. “Wha’ happn?” he said hoarsely.
As he tried to recall what had brought about his current state, Draco’s memory produced a series of flashing images including moist, twisted sheets, groping hands and writhing bodies. It didn’t explain why he felt so shitty.
“Well, to put it in simple terms,” said George, “the snow was packed, you took off, but your skis stayed put.”
Fred imitated a sick crunching sound that made Draco queasy. Yes, he remembered now. Pain, white as the snow covering the mountains, shot through his legs and his entire body as the force he had put into moving forward went to his legs.
“You broke both your legs, mate.” Fred shook his head sympathetically.
“The healer mended your bones, but she said you’d be quite sore for a few days. It’s the pain potion that’s making you so drowsy. Strong stuff.”
Draco glanced at the bedside table and saw of few small bottles containing a greenish fluid. He remembered looking over his shoulder sometime in the past and seeing an empty space beside him in the bed.
“She left some more potion for you to take once it starts to wear off,” said George.
Draco didn’t know if it was wearing off or not: whatever he felt in his legs was nothing compared to the strange emptiness he felt in his chest.
“Where’s Harry?” he asked.
The twins exchanged knowing looks; there was too much silent communication travelling between them for Draco’s liking.
“He wanted to stay,” said George.
“He really did,” added Fred with enthusiasm.
“But we suggested that we stay with you instead. We told him you’d probably be too groggy to shag, so he should go make the most of our last day here.”
Draco looked away, his throat tightening. It wasn’t that he didn’t want Harry to have a good time, but he couldn’t help feeling hurt that his friend-turned-lover had chosen to go skiing instead of looking after him, even if sex was out of the question, though it wouldn’t have been—Draco was sure he would have found the will and energy for at least one shag.
Fred and George were babbling about something again; every word added to Draco’s irritation.
“Would you two please take this somewhere else?” he asked, trying to sound as polite as possible. “I’d like to get back to sleep.”
Thankfully, the Weasley twins weren’t ones to get upset too easily. They left quickly and without a single complaint. Yet Draco couldn’t find any peace. His heart was racing; he didn’t know why he was in such a state of panic. Harry would come back soon, they’d take the flying carriage home and kiss on the way, then they’d go back to Harry’s apartment, or maybe Draco’s, and make love until the birds began to sing and the sun tinged the horizon pink. And after an hour or two of sleep, they’d shower together and arrive late for work.
Draco couldn’t wait for Harry to get back—he needed to know that his fairy tale would come true.
*****
Harry pointed his wand from one drawer to another, sending his things flying, neatly folded, into his suitcase. He was trying to ignore the grey eyes observing him from the corner of the room—they him feel worse than he already did. Didn’t Draco get the point?
“Have you packed all your things?” Harry asked, hoping Draco would leave his room to go pack.
“Yeah,” said Draco. “I had plenty of time…”
Harry said nothing as he looked around the room to make sure he hadn’t forgotten anything. He looked everywhere except in Draco’s general direction.
“Any regrets?” the blond asked.
Harry froze momentarily, his muscles tensing. “Yeah…”
An uncomfortable silence followed.
“Why?”
Harry sighed. “I’m not ready for a relationship, Draco. Just two weeks ago I was hours away from getting married.”
A bitter laugh that made Harry’s inside churn escaped Draco’s throat. “And you only thought of this now, after we’ve been messing around for nearly two weeks?”
“Sorry,” said Harry. “But I was curious.”
Draco’s eyes turned ice cold; Harry shivered deep inside.
“Is that why you shagged me three times last night? To sate your curiosity? Wasn’t once enough?”
“Sssssh!” said Harry angrily. “Keep your voice down!”
Pain flashed in Draco’s eyes, and Harry immediately regretted what he’d said.
“So you’re ashamed of what we did?” asked Draco.
Have already checked every shelf and drawer twice, Harry plopped down on the edge of his bed, taking his head in his hands.
“Let’s just forget it ever happened, okay?”
“I don’t want to forget it ever happened!”
“Then at least don’t talk about it!” yelled Harry.
Harry didn’t know why he was getting so angry. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a single tear roll down onto Draco’s cheekbone and slide quickly down his pointed face.
“I just want things to go back to the way they were before,” said Harry, his voice barely above a whisper.
“You mean back when we were enemies?” said Draco. “We’re getting there.”
“No,” said Harry. “I mean before this trip.”
His chest constricted as Draco continued to cry. Harry held back his own tears.
“Well, we can’t go back to just being friends. I couldn’t bear it,” said Draco, and he stood and stormed out of the room.
Harry wanted to tell him to be careful with his legs, but he couldn’t find his voice. A bottomless pit formed at his center as he realized that everything that he and Draco had shared these past two weeks, even these past two years, was lost and that he was the only one to blame.
“I’m not gay,” he muttered to himself, fingers tugging his own black hair. “I’m not…”
tbc
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Rating: NC-17
Wordcount: 1,050
Disclaimer: Characters and HP universe belong to JKR and publishers. Loaded Questions is a trademark of All Things Equal, Inc.
Summary: A ski trip provides the perfect distraction for one broken-hearted Harry Potter.
But what will happen when he comes back to his senses?
It was with great difficulty that Draco opened his eyes to a squint to find the source of the irritating bickering that had woken him from a deep sleep. Sand seemed to be shifting beneath his eyelids.
“Look, he’s awake,” said one of the voices.
Two identical faces, both topped with a head of flaming red hair suddenly appeared, looking down at him.
“How are you feeling?”
Draco found it difficult to speak. His throat felt dehydrated and his head seemed to weigh about a hundred pounds. “Wha’ happn?” he said hoarsely.
As he tried to recall what had brought about his current state, Draco’s memory produced a series of flashing images including moist, twisted sheets, groping hands and writhing bodies. It didn’t explain why he felt so shitty.
“Well, to put it in simple terms,” said George, “the snow was packed, you took off, but your skis stayed put.”
Fred imitated a sick crunching sound that made Draco queasy. Yes, he remembered now. Pain, white as the snow covering the mountains, shot through his legs and his entire body as the force he had put into moving forward went to his legs.
“You broke both your legs, mate.” Fred shook his head sympathetically.
“The healer mended your bones, but she said you’d be quite sore for a few days. It’s the pain potion that’s making you so drowsy. Strong stuff.”
Draco glanced at the bedside table and saw of few small bottles containing a greenish fluid. He remembered looking over his shoulder sometime in the past and seeing an empty space beside him in the bed.
“She left some more potion for you to take once it starts to wear off,” said George.
Draco didn’t know if it was wearing off or not: whatever he felt in his legs was nothing compared to the strange emptiness he felt in his chest.
“Where’s Harry?” he asked.
The twins exchanged knowing looks; there was too much silent communication travelling between them for Draco’s liking.
“He wanted to stay,” said George.
“He really did,” added Fred with enthusiasm.
“But we suggested that we stay with you instead. We told him you’d probably be too groggy to shag, so he should go make the most of our last day here.”
Draco looked away, his throat tightening. It wasn’t that he didn’t want Harry to have a good time, but he couldn’t help feeling hurt that his friend-turned-lover had chosen to go skiing instead of looking after him, even if sex was out of the question, though it wouldn’t have been—Draco was sure he would have found the will and energy for at least one shag.
Fred and George were babbling about something again; every word added to Draco’s irritation.
“Would you two please take this somewhere else?” he asked, trying to sound as polite as possible. “I’d like to get back to sleep.”
Thankfully, the Weasley twins weren’t ones to get upset too easily. They left quickly and without a single complaint. Yet Draco couldn’t find any peace. His heart was racing; he didn’t know why he was in such a state of panic. Harry would come back soon, they’d take the flying carriage home and kiss on the way, then they’d go back to Harry’s apartment, or maybe Draco’s, and make love until the birds began to sing and the sun tinged the horizon pink. And after an hour or two of sleep, they’d shower together and arrive late for work.
Draco couldn’t wait for Harry to get back—he needed to know that his fairy tale would come true.
*****
Harry pointed his wand from one drawer to another, sending his things flying, neatly folded, into his suitcase. He was trying to ignore the grey eyes observing him from the corner of the room—they him feel worse than he already did. Didn’t Draco get the point?
“Have you packed all your things?” Harry asked, hoping Draco would leave his room to go pack.
“Yeah,” said Draco. “I had plenty of time…”
Harry said nothing as he looked around the room to make sure he hadn’t forgotten anything. He looked everywhere except in Draco’s general direction.
“Any regrets?” the blond asked.
Harry froze momentarily, his muscles tensing. “Yeah…”
An uncomfortable silence followed.
“Why?”
Harry sighed. “I’m not ready for a relationship, Draco. Just two weeks ago I was hours away from getting married.”
A bitter laugh that made Harry’s inside churn escaped Draco’s throat. “And you only thought of this now, after we’ve been messing around for nearly two weeks?”
“Sorry,” said Harry. “But I was curious.”
Draco’s eyes turned ice cold; Harry shivered deep inside.
“Is that why you shagged me three times last night? To sate your curiosity? Wasn’t once enough?”
“Sssssh!” said Harry angrily. “Keep your voice down!”
Pain flashed in Draco’s eyes, and Harry immediately regretted what he’d said.
“So you’re ashamed of what we did?” asked Draco.
Have already checked every shelf and drawer twice, Harry plopped down on the edge of his bed, taking his head in his hands.
“Let’s just forget it ever happened, okay?”
“I don’t want to forget it ever happened!”
“Then at least don’t talk about it!” yelled Harry.
Harry didn’t know why he was getting so angry. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a single tear roll down onto Draco’s cheekbone and slide quickly down his pointed face.
“I just want things to go back to the way they were before,” said Harry, his voice barely above a whisper.
“You mean back when we were enemies?” said Draco. “We’re getting there.”
“No,” said Harry. “I mean before this trip.”
His chest constricted as Draco continued to cry. Harry held back his own tears.
“Well, we can’t go back to just being friends. I couldn’t bear it,” said Draco, and he stood and stormed out of the room.
Harry wanted to tell him to be careful with his legs, but he couldn’t find his voice. A bottomless pit formed at his center as he realized that everything that he and Draco had shared these past two weeks, even these past two years, was lost and that he was the only one to blame.
“I’m not gay,” he muttered to himself, fingers tugging his own black hair. “I’m not…”
tbc
