rurounihime (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
rurounihime) wrote2005-04-30 12:47 pm
rurounihime) wrote2005-04-30 12:47 pm
Ficlet
Okay, I had to scratch an itch with this ficlet. Something that would not leave me alone today. Eh, needs work. Yes, probably too melodramatic. But I felt like being dysfunctional.
Title: Let It Go. (Um... I don't know. Doesn't really have a title, actually)
Author: me
Pairing: H/D, past H/T
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Psh, it'll take me longer to come up with a summary than it will for people to read it. It's short. Harry comes home, Draco has issues.
Disclaimer: Boys aren't mine. I just like to put them through shit.
ETA: Ooh, look at this pic that![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
frogslayr drew for the story! *loves*
ETA2: The lovely Ms.dacro wrote me some wonderful continuations to this fic. First, The Letter, and then Ready to Start Again. *adores*
...
Watching Draco sleep reminded Harry of how silly their fights had become lately.
Draco was on the couch, tucked against the arm with a cotton blanket over his body. His mouth was half-open and Harry could hear him breathing. He touched Draco's cheek lightly with one finger and immediately regretted it. Better not to wake him.
But Draco's cheek was so soft. His skin was a little flushed, rosy. It reminded him of the roses in the trellis over his and Terry Boot's table at dinner. Terry had been so attentive, letting Harry rant, so sympathetic. Perhaps a little too attentive, but it had helped immensely, even through the guilt Harry felt about sharing his private life with someone other than Draco. But then, it was Terry, wasn't it? And Harry couldn't really rant to Draco about their own fights anyway. The dinner, the laughter, even the awkward hug at the end had been just what Harry needed.
Draco stirred, shifting onto his side. His eyes opened for a moment and closed again. For a breath's space Harry thought he'd fallen back to sleep. But then those eyes flickered again and Draco looked at him.
"Harry?" His voice was hoarse. Harry smiled faintly and settled back on the couch just behind Draco's bent knees. Draco turned, working his arm free of the blanket to push himself up. "You're home."
Harry nodded. Draco blinked owlishly at him and then glanced away. He tucked his knees up against his chest and wrapped his arms around them. He shook his head. Harry frowned and inched closer, but the blond didn't respond... at first. It startled Harry when Draco's head suddenly shot up. One hand jerked toward his and then pulled back.
"Harry, I'm sorry about the fight. Please. I didn't mean--" Draco stopped and closed his eyes. "Just... ah, fuck."
Harry blinked. He took a breath. "Are you still angry?"
"No."
Harry studied Draco's profile. The blond was looking at something on the carpet.
"I didn't think you'd be back tonight."
Harry frowned. "I wasn't that angry."
"No, I mean..." Draco sighed. "I thought you were going to stay. With him."
Something jumped in Harry's chest. He tried to force it down but in the end he couldn't help himself. It was a reaction he was familiar with, especially around Draco. Harry clenched his jaw. He couldn't look at the other man right then. "You think I'd do that."
Draco shrugged and Harry got angrier. He stood up quickly. Draco curled inward even further and Harry gritted his teeth. He shouldn't have woken Draco up. He should have just... Harry looked down at Draco, struggling to keep his voice calm. "That's why you waited up for me?"
Draco's chin was settled on his knees, voice muffled by the blanket. "I'd deserve it."
Whatever words Harry's anger was planning on sank out of reach, leaving him open-mouthed, standing over Draco. The blond's fingers clutched at the edge of the blanket where it dangled against his legs. Harry licked his lips and sat down slowly. "What?"
Draco grimaced and finally met Harry's gaze. His eyes were tired, red-rimmed. Harry almost reached out to touch his cheek, but stopped himself. Draco sighed heavily. "I wouldn't blame you. If you did. I know what he means to you."
Harry shook his head, trying to sort out the returning frustration from the concern. "Draco--"
"He's the one who took your virginity," Draco whispered. "I can't compete with that."
Harry stared at Draco for a long moment, then leaned forward and touched Draco's hand. The blond looked at him. "Draco, it isn't a competition. It's... How long have you been thinking like this?"
Draco didn't answer. Harry leaned in again, but the other man shook his head. "Just forget it, Harry. We fight all the time. I would understand."
"Draco, it was just dinner. I needed to get away. Talk. He's my friend and I thought--"
"He's better for you. I would deserve it anyway."
Harry felt too warm. He licked his lips. "Why are you saying all these things?"
Draco shrugged, settling his chin back on his knees. He closed his eyes tightly. His voice was very, very soft. "I didn't mean to get so drunk that time, Harry."
Harry's chest twinged. It was an old wound, one he hadn't felt in a long while. He sat quite still for what felt like an eternity, and then leaned forward and rubbed Draco's arms gently. "Draco, look at me. That was over two years ago."
Draco went on as if he'd never spoken. "It wasn't supposed to go that far, Harry. I didn't mean to-- I mean... You and I were fighting and I just--"
He stuttered into silence and a shiver shook his frame. Harry didn't wait for him to pull away this time; he crawled forward and gathered Draco into his arms. The blond went rigid at first, then swallowed audibly and rested his head on Harry's shoulder. "Harry, I don't have any right to say this, but please don't-- I don't want you to lea-- I don't want to fight anymore."
A lot of things about the past week started clicking into place, faster than Harry could keep track. Draco's surprise at hearing of Terry Boot's return to London, his silence when Harry announced they were meeting for lunch. Last night when the sex between them had been almost... frenzied. Draco had rarely touched him like that, as if he were trying to climb inside him. And Harry was starting to think he hadn't been so wrong about the glistening in Draco's eyes that night. And then all the arguments, one after another. Harry stroked his back with one hand. "I thought we dealt with this a long time ago."
Draco didn't answer and Harry leaned back, trying to catch his eye. "When are you going to let it go?"
Draco shook his head and kept shaking it. "He wouldn't hurt you like that. And all we do is argue. Maybe--"
Harry cut him off. "Draco. I do not want him like that. I don't care if he was the boy I lost my virginity to, or my first boyfriend, or whatever. I'm with you. I choose to be with you. Even if he asked, I wouldn't say yes."
"Harry, I--"
Harry lifted Draco's chin. "That was one time, Draco. Once. We had our fights about it. It's over."
Draco's eyes got even sadder. Harry stroked his face with his fingers and tried to think. He knew it had been only the once. And he did trust Draco again. It had taken its sweet time coming back, but it had returned, eventually. Harry was sometimes still surprised by the vehemence of that trust. Maybe he needed it too much. Maybe Draco did. Harry had long sensed a new delicacy between them, a fragility that hadn't been there before. It was coddled by both of them, and it caused more sorrow -- and in the last year, more tenderness -- during their intimacy than Harry ever remembered having. But Draco had never let on that he still dwelt on what had happened until now.
"Draco," Harry said softly. "What do I have to say to get you to believe me?"
"Maybe I'm not the one for you, Harry." Draco swallowed again and fixed his eyes somewhere over Harry's shoulder. "Maybe that was just a first sign. What if I do it again?"
"You won't."
Draco nodded miserably. "I just... I don't deserve this, Harry. I don't. I've damn well proven that. You deserve better."
"Draco..." Harry was at a loss. He leaned his forehead against Draco's and breathed. "I don't want 'better'. I want you. You know that, you've always known that."
"Maybe you shouldn't want me, then."
"Draco, what's happened to you?"
Draco leaned back against the arm of the couch, staring up at the stucco ceiling. Harry had the sense that Draco was trying to figure out how to best say something. Maybe whether to say it at all. When Draco finally closed his eyes and gave a long sigh, Harry's heart sank. He'd thought this finished, he really had. Terry didn't even bring it up anymore, and that was an accomplishment. But for Draco it obviously had never been finished. Harry didn't know what he could do or say to put it to rest again.
He was thinking about just kissing Draco and driving the thoughts from his mind for an hour at least when the blond took a sharp breath and opened his eyes. He fumbled beneath the blanket and pulled something out in one hand. Harry squinted. It looked like folded parchment. Crumpled a bit.
Draco's resignation was in his voice. "He owled. Boot."
Harry took the parchment from Draco's fingers, squinting at his lover cautiously. "He did? About dinner tonight?"
Draco shook his head. "Yesterday."
Harry opened the letter, but even before the words could begin burning themselves into his mind like brands, Draco was speaking them in soft helpless tones.
"He told me I'd be lucky to see you again. I'd done enough damage and he wasn't going to let me do anymore. That you should be with him, and he would show me how fast you'd break away, given another option. You deserve better and I didn't have the right to... to say anything about it. And he's right. I've read it so many times. He's absolutely right."
Harry stared at the letter in his hand, at Terry's familiar script. His chest felt trapped in a vice. Suddenly he was more furious than he'd ever been. Terry's behavior at dinner, his questions about Draco in particular, made an abrupt, horrible sense to him. Harry crumpled the parchment in his fist.
"I can't believe-- That bastard," he hissed. "That fucking asshole! I never should have told him about--"
All of a sudden the parchment burst into flames in Harry's palm. He dropped it and jerked back, but it disintegrated before it hit the carpet. Harry became aware of a rattling noise and realized it was the windows. He took a deep breath and the rattling stopped.
Draco was not looking at him. He'd shut his eyes again, hunched against the side of the couch. He looked so weary, so small that Harry almost didn't recognize him as the same man who'd only just handed him the parchment. The words on Terry's letter ricocheted through his mind, beating at him, threatening a storm the likes of which Harry did not expect to be able to control. It frightened him. And Draco's pale face, his dead expression... frightened him more.
Harry leaned in and cupped Draco's chin in one hand. He kissed him, softly at first, until his eyes flickered open, then more deeply, easing his lips apart, tilting his head and stroking Draco's mouth with his tongue. Draco blinked rapidly and Harry felt his hand warm against his chest. He reached down and threaded his fingers with Draco's. Draco's body shook and he gasped into Harry's mouth, squeezing Harry's fingers tightly.
Harry pulled free long enough to situate himself behind Draco on the couch. The blond curled against him, still wrapped in the blanket, and Harry kissed him several times, chaste brushes of lips against Draco's.
"I forgive you." Soft kiss. "I don't want anyone else." Soft kiss. "Let it go." Soft. "I forgive you." Lips. "I forgive you." Lips.
"Harry," Draco whispered. Harry kissed him again.
"I forgive you, Draco." Deeper. "I forgive you." Longer. "Let it go." Hold on.
Draco's lips tasted salty, damp. "I don't know if I can."
Harry shook his head, and met his mouth again, and didn't speak.
Title: Let It Go. (Um... I don't know. Doesn't really have a title, actually)
Author: me
Pairing: H/D, past H/T
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Psh, it'll take me longer to come up with a summary than it will for people to read it. It's short. Harry comes home, Draco has issues.
Disclaimer: Boys aren't mine. I just like to put them through shit.
ETA: Ooh, look at this pic that
frogslayr drew for the story! *loves*ETA2: The lovely Ms.
dacro wrote me some wonderful continuations to this fic. First, The Letter, and then Ready to Start Again. *adores*...
Watching Draco sleep reminded Harry of how silly their fights had become lately.
Draco was on the couch, tucked against the arm with a cotton blanket over his body. His mouth was half-open and Harry could hear him breathing. He touched Draco's cheek lightly with one finger and immediately regretted it. Better not to wake him.
But Draco's cheek was so soft. His skin was a little flushed, rosy. It reminded him of the roses in the trellis over his and Terry Boot's table at dinner. Terry had been so attentive, letting Harry rant, so sympathetic. Perhaps a little too attentive, but it had helped immensely, even through the guilt Harry felt about sharing his private life with someone other than Draco. But then, it was Terry, wasn't it? And Harry couldn't really rant to Draco about their own fights anyway. The dinner, the laughter, even the awkward hug at the end had been just what Harry needed.
Draco stirred, shifting onto his side. His eyes opened for a moment and closed again. For a breath's space Harry thought he'd fallen back to sleep. But then those eyes flickered again and Draco looked at him.
"Harry?" His voice was hoarse. Harry smiled faintly and settled back on the couch just behind Draco's bent knees. Draco turned, working his arm free of the blanket to push himself up. "You're home."
Harry nodded. Draco blinked owlishly at him and then glanced away. He tucked his knees up against his chest and wrapped his arms around them. He shook his head. Harry frowned and inched closer, but the blond didn't respond... at first. It startled Harry when Draco's head suddenly shot up. One hand jerked toward his and then pulled back.
"Harry, I'm sorry about the fight. Please. I didn't mean--" Draco stopped and closed his eyes. "Just... ah, fuck."
Harry blinked. He took a breath. "Are you still angry?"
"No."
Harry studied Draco's profile. The blond was looking at something on the carpet.
"I didn't think you'd be back tonight."
Harry frowned. "I wasn't that angry."
"No, I mean..." Draco sighed. "I thought you were going to stay. With him."
Something jumped in Harry's chest. He tried to force it down but in the end he couldn't help himself. It was a reaction he was familiar with, especially around Draco. Harry clenched his jaw. He couldn't look at the other man right then. "You think I'd do that."
Draco shrugged and Harry got angrier. He stood up quickly. Draco curled inward even further and Harry gritted his teeth. He shouldn't have woken Draco up. He should have just... Harry looked down at Draco, struggling to keep his voice calm. "That's why you waited up for me?"
Draco's chin was settled on his knees, voice muffled by the blanket. "I'd deserve it."
Whatever words Harry's anger was planning on sank out of reach, leaving him open-mouthed, standing over Draco. The blond's fingers clutched at the edge of the blanket where it dangled against his legs. Harry licked his lips and sat down slowly. "What?"
Draco grimaced and finally met Harry's gaze. His eyes were tired, red-rimmed. Harry almost reached out to touch his cheek, but stopped himself. Draco sighed heavily. "I wouldn't blame you. If you did. I know what he means to you."
Harry shook his head, trying to sort out the returning frustration from the concern. "Draco--"
"He's the one who took your virginity," Draco whispered. "I can't compete with that."
Harry stared at Draco for a long moment, then leaned forward and touched Draco's hand. The blond looked at him. "Draco, it isn't a competition. It's... How long have you been thinking like this?"
Draco didn't answer. Harry leaned in again, but the other man shook his head. "Just forget it, Harry. We fight all the time. I would understand."
"Draco, it was just dinner. I needed to get away. Talk. He's my friend and I thought--"
"He's better for you. I would deserve it anyway."
Harry felt too warm. He licked his lips. "Why are you saying all these things?"
Draco shrugged, settling his chin back on his knees. He closed his eyes tightly. His voice was very, very soft. "I didn't mean to get so drunk that time, Harry."
Harry's chest twinged. It was an old wound, one he hadn't felt in a long while. He sat quite still for what felt like an eternity, and then leaned forward and rubbed Draco's arms gently. "Draco, look at me. That was over two years ago."
Draco went on as if he'd never spoken. "It wasn't supposed to go that far, Harry. I didn't mean to-- I mean... You and I were fighting and I just--"
He stuttered into silence and a shiver shook his frame. Harry didn't wait for him to pull away this time; he crawled forward and gathered Draco into his arms. The blond went rigid at first, then swallowed audibly and rested his head on Harry's shoulder. "Harry, I don't have any right to say this, but please don't-- I don't want you to lea-- I don't want to fight anymore."
A lot of things about the past week started clicking into place, faster than Harry could keep track. Draco's surprise at hearing of Terry Boot's return to London, his silence when Harry announced they were meeting for lunch. Last night when the sex between them had been almost... frenzied. Draco had rarely touched him like that, as if he were trying to climb inside him. And Harry was starting to think he hadn't been so wrong about the glistening in Draco's eyes that night. And then all the arguments, one after another. Harry stroked his back with one hand. "I thought we dealt with this a long time ago."
Draco didn't answer and Harry leaned back, trying to catch his eye. "When are you going to let it go?"
Draco shook his head and kept shaking it. "He wouldn't hurt you like that. And all we do is argue. Maybe--"
Harry cut him off. "Draco. I do not want him like that. I don't care if he was the boy I lost my virginity to, or my first boyfriend, or whatever. I'm with you. I choose to be with you. Even if he asked, I wouldn't say yes."
"Harry, I--"
Harry lifted Draco's chin. "That was one time, Draco. Once. We had our fights about it. It's over."
Draco's eyes got even sadder. Harry stroked his face with his fingers and tried to think. He knew it had been only the once. And he did trust Draco again. It had taken its sweet time coming back, but it had returned, eventually. Harry was sometimes still surprised by the vehemence of that trust. Maybe he needed it too much. Maybe Draco did. Harry had long sensed a new delicacy between them, a fragility that hadn't been there before. It was coddled by both of them, and it caused more sorrow -- and in the last year, more tenderness -- during their intimacy than Harry ever remembered having. But Draco had never let on that he still dwelt on what had happened until now.
"Draco," Harry said softly. "What do I have to say to get you to believe me?"
"Maybe I'm not the one for you, Harry." Draco swallowed again and fixed his eyes somewhere over Harry's shoulder. "Maybe that was just a first sign. What if I do it again?"
"You won't."
Draco nodded miserably. "I just... I don't deserve this, Harry. I don't. I've damn well proven that. You deserve better."
"Draco..." Harry was at a loss. He leaned his forehead against Draco's and breathed. "I don't want 'better'. I want you. You know that, you've always known that."
"Maybe you shouldn't want me, then."
"Draco, what's happened to you?"
Draco leaned back against the arm of the couch, staring up at the stucco ceiling. Harry had the sense that Draco was trying to figure out how to best say something. Maybe whether to say it at all. When Draco finally closed his eyes and gave a long sigh, Harry's heart sank. He'd thought this finished, he really had. Terry didn't even bring it up anymore, and that was an accomplishment. But for Draco it obviously had never been finished. Harry didn't know what he could do or say to put it to rest again.
He was thinking about just kissing Draco and driving the thoughts from his mind for an hour at least when the blond took a sharp breath and opened his eyes. He fumbled beneath the blanket and pulled something out in one hand. Harry squinted. It looked like folded parchment. Crumpled a bit.
Draco's resignation was in his voice. "He owled. Boot."
Harry took the parchment from Draco's fingers, squinting at his lover cautiously. "He did? About dinner tonight?"
Draco shook his head. "Yesterday."
Harry opened the letter, but even before the words could begin burning themselves into his mind like brands, Draco was speaking them in soft helpless tones.
"He told me I'd be lucky to see you again. I'd done enough damage and he wasn't going to let me do anymore. That you should be with him, and he would show me how fast you'd break away, given another option. You deserve better and I didn't have the right to... to say anything about it. And he's right. I've read it so many times. He's absolutely right."
Harry stared at the letter in his hand, at Terry's familiar script. His chest felt trapped in a vice. Suddenly he was more furious than he'd ever been. Terry's behavior at dinner, his questions about Draco in particular, made an abrupt, horrible sense to him. Harry crumpled the parchment in his fist.
"I can't believe-- That bastard," he hissed. "That fucking asshole! I never should have told him about--"
All of a sudden the parchment burst into flames in Harry's palm. He dropped it and jerked back, but it disintegrated before it hit the carpet. Harry became aware of a rattling noise and realized it was the windows. He took a deep breath and the rattling stopped.
Draco was not looking at him. He'd shut his eyes again, hunched against the side of the couch. He looked so weary, so small that Harry almost didn't recognize him as the same man who'd only just handed him the parchment. The words on Terry's letter ricocheted through his mind, beating at him, threatening a storm the likes of which Harry did not expect to be able to control. It frightened him. And Draco's pale face, his dead expression... frightened him more.
Harry leaned in and cupped Draco's chin in one hand. He kissed him, softly at first, until his eyes flickered open, then more deeply, easing his lips apart, tilting his head and stroking Draco's mouth with his tongue. Draco blinked rapidly and Harry felt his hand warm against his chest. He reached down and threaded his fingers with Draco's. Draco's body shook and he gasped into Harry's mouth, squeezing Harry's fingers tightly.
Harry pulled free long enough to situate himself behind Draco on the couch. The blond curled against him, still wrapped in the blanket, and Harry kissed him several times, chaste brushes of lips against Draco's.
"I forgive you." Soft kiss. "I don't want anyone else." Soft kiss. "Let it go." Soft. "I forgive you." Lips. "I forgive you." Lips.
"Harry," Draco whispered. Harry kissed him again.
"I forgive you, Draco." Deeper. "I forgive you." Longer. "Let it go." Hold on.
Draco's lips tasted salty, damp. "I don't know if I can."
Harry shook his head, and met his mouth again, and didn't speak.
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