Title: Unseen

Author: Catdragon

Email: samdas@metroweb.co.za

Livejournal: http://www.livejournal.com/users/catdragonthe1st/

Category: Drama-Angst

Pairings/Characters: Draco, Harry/Severus

Rating: R

Disclaimer: I own nothing, not even a set of the books, those are all borrowed. *sigh*

Summary: Draco knows to keep quiet and just take what he's given. But what if what he wants isn't on offer? Slash (duh)

Notes: My first something-resembling-sex fic ever. I'm so proud. Drabble-y sort of fic'. This would be after OotP, because it fits the H/S more and the fact that Lucius isn't there to help Draco. Unbetaed and unapologetic. The writing style is a little weird, but it's meant to be. Stream-of-consciousness type of writing. But not quite. I can actually write proper English. I talks my English's very good ok!! *g* Written simply because I am filled with angsty Draco-love and I want a Draco for myself. Oh and, Gah! I adore Tom Felton, even if he is spotty. We're all spotty at some point. For Jade, because she fills my world with light, happiness and filthy-dirty RPS. I'm going to hell so I can sit at her feet for all eternity. Her and Emmagrant.


Unseen
By Catdragon
***


Children, Daddy said, should be seen and not heard. When I want your opinion, I will give it to you, as I will give you everything you desire. So when Draco realised that what he most desired was his favourite teacher, he waited for him to arrive at his door like everything else. October came, the Halloween Ball, and everything that happened in the dungeons was a bit more illicit. Professor Snape left the Ball early, seemed a little harried, and Draco smiled and went down to wait. But no one came, and he spent the night gazing at the stars, wishing they could really tell more than half-truths.

*

Draco knew he was right but he didn't say anything, the way he should, and the class gasped in astonishment and horror as Snape awarded his first ever five points to Gryffindor for the mud-blood's answer. He looked rather ill and Potter looked somewhat smug. Later as he patrolled the aisles, Draco heard Snape hiss for Harry's ears only, "I'll win next time," but Draco could've told him that there was simply no beating Potter once he'd started winning. And for the first time, Draco contemplated that there might be a flaw in his plan. A fly in his potion. A Potter in his way. Two minutes later a cauldron boiled over. "Detention Potter," and was he smiling?

*

Draco knew Malfoys never went barefoot and they never, EVER walked in their socks but Snape had good ears. He needn't have bothered. The classroom door was ever so slightly ajar and Draco slid half-in like a shadow, hidden by the dark and the flickering candles. Potter lay on the desk, shirt pulled aside, robe hanging over the sides of the desk, trousers discarded on the floor. Panting like a little excited puppy, Snape between his legs, preparing him with the same efficiency as he would a potion. Then he leaned down and muttered something that could have been "I love you, I need you, you are forever mine," or "Shut up while I fuck you through the wood," and either way, Potter didn't seem to mind. Snape pushed in, not gentle but not forced, oh no, this was willing, and Potter yowled and quivered like a taut bow. Snape leaned and whispered to him, running those beautiful, talented hands down the little slut's body, and these soft sounds were definitely soothing. The boy's muscles slacked a bit and he gazed, breathing hard until lips crashed down hard onto his. The next whimper was muffled in the kiss as Snape shoved in again and again, and now the cries were loud and constant as the older man buried his face in the boy's neck. Draco wasn't even sure who he was jealous of anymore. He watched from beginning to end, breath speeding up with the couple's, quivering as much as the boy on the table and when it seemed like the energy in the air was sharp enough to cut and something was surely about to snap, Potter threw his head back, knocking against the desk, keening like he was hurt and Draco's heart echoed. He didn't stay to see if his teacher had finished or not. He turned and ran back to his room, still silent.

*

He tore at his trousers, yanking them down. One of the legs got stuck around his ankle and he left it throwing himself back against his bed knocking the breath from his body. He shook from need and pain, and the chill of the dungeon. Hurried, he licked at his palm and wrapped it around his cock, pulling fiercely, harshly, a pleasure and punishment all at once, wrenching his release out of his body. Faster and harder, his nails scratching, he hissed and threw his head back, scattering his hair like a broken halo on the pillow. His breath came harsh and fast through gritted teeth and his head jolted from side to side and small sounds escaped as his body arched and too soon and yet not soon enough he was there...
He slumped back against the mattress and shut his eyes tightly, tight as he could. Because Malfoys, Daddy said, didn't cry, and he wasn't crying, he was just making sure. I can't see you and you can't see me. Some children are not seen or heard.



END


*sniff*

...on a more chipper note I do apologise for the horrendous pun in line 5. I realised after but I left it in `cos it makes me laugh. "Harried" indeed. I'm sure he is. *snigger*

I could maybe write a sequel with Draco getting in on the action `cos heh, I like sandwiches, it's on my lj icon. But might not. Can't tell when inspiration will strike.

Please tell me what you think, email, lj or yahoo_group reply, and also if I should continue.


END