Pretty Used
Glitter. Spark. Dazzle.
The lights were cascading, thumping music playing and Blaise twisted, hands
above his head and hips rolling in time with the music. The feeling of being
wanted and desired scorched over his skin like the wax of the black candles
Draco kept in their room, Draco's gaze laying heavy on him like manacles and
the choker tight around his throat. He licked the curve of his bottom lip,
tasting lipstick and remembering the lust in Draco's eyes as he'd put it on. No
one here saw the boy he really was, dressed in the miniskirt and corset, eyes
underlined with blackness to make the blue stand out like a vivid shout. Pretty
girl dancing to her own beat under the flickering light of the strobes and he
could feel the wanting crowd in on him, made him want the hard safety of
Draco's arms around him. His own Arctic wolf to warn the other ones back with a
snap and a snarl, and oh...there he was.
He met Draco's eyes and beckoned him in from where he was standing, curving
graceful fingers and watching the red on his nails catch the light. It was
pretty, the way the different colours would shine through the enamel, lighting
his fingertips with various shades. No one cared who they were here. They were
just two more teens in a crowd of teens, Muggles didn't care or know that there
was magic or a place called Hogwarts and everything here was different. There
was a harder edge to the sparkle, slightly more desperate looks in the eyes
around them. Blaise had learnt to shy away from the drug users, there was
something not right in their eyes and they were quite insane to his view. It
was hard to tell where some people left off and others began, ancient rituals
of mating and courtship acted out on the dancefloor, all the young prettied up
and decked out to attract the eye of someone. The world was always less lonely
when people fucked.
Blaise turned away again, arching his back and feeling Draco's hand slither
into place around his waist, teeth nipping at the curve of his shoulder.
Another set of teethmarks to add to the many - Draco Malfoy liked to bite. He
had sharp little canines, a little longer then most people's and it was always
really obvious when he smirked, dangerous little flash of fang adding to the
menace. Draco was a serpent, cold and quiet and deadly. Malicious and wicked,
and Blaise always wondered when this time, this time it would be the venom and
he'd die, curling up quiet and slipping away with a sigh. He wondered what it
would feel like if Draco turned absolutely on him, rather then the falling away
he knew would come after school. They would have to marry, for the sake of
their family lines and fortunes. Blaise would put away his skirts and stockings
and dream of Draco fucking him, one hand pressed close against his mouth and
quiet snarl against his neck.
Normality. What a chore. But for the moment, they had this, the grinding thrust
of Draco's erection against the leather of his skirt, hands spanning the
delicate arch of his hips and black against white. Possessive fluent poetry as
one hand tangled in his coal-black hair and pulled his head back, exposing his
throat to Draco's perusal and landing one very precise nip to the
suddenly masculine line of his neck, adam's apple visible. The lean girl of
illusion melted against the winter youth who held her, visibly submissive in
his hands.
"Bathroom, now." Soft spoken order, punctuated by a lick and a
not so gentle tug to the lobe of his ear. Blaise nodded slightly, lacing his
hands through Draco's and following eagerly as he was pulled. One day soon, he
promised himself, he'd run and make Draco chase him. He wanted to feel wanted,
owned, brought down like prey in a rush and dragged down into grateful
submission. Wondered absently how much it would take to push his more then
probable future wife into these games, if she would dare. Traditional wizarding
society was very definite on gender roles - something Blaise had always found
surprising considering that robes were oh so nearly dresses. BDSM games were
something known but never publicised, and it was never, ever, ever the
woman holding the whip. Still. Aunt Narcissa and her sisters, Bellatrix and
Andromeda, had the hint of predator to their eyes, but Lucius was by far the
nastier one in that relationship. Two wolves, breeding together and producing
one perfect winter-blizzard pup.
His parents were nowhere near as interesting as Draco's, sycophants and
fawners. Nowhere near as powerful. As old, as recently powerful but there had
been a few wrong turns taken along the breeding lines and here he was.
Perfectly submissive and pretty, elegant long lines and lithe beauty. Like one
of those androgynous youths Renassiance painters had drawn out, a David in milk
and ink. Draco was a predator to the core, quietly dominant and seething inside
everytime a Gryffindor dismissed him as 'just another Slytherin'. A brat,
perhaps. But a wolf pup grows up to be a killer - no need to dismiss the
cuteness which later matures into fang and claw and viciousness.
Pulled inside the men's bathroom, thankfully empty and then Draco turned,
locking the door with a quietly muttered charm. Blaise licked his lips lightly,
tasting the lipstick's chalkiness again and wondering if he needed to reapply.
The thought died as Draco stalked across the room to him, cupping his face in
artist hands and holding him still for a bruising kiss. Blaise moaned softly
into Draco's mouth, accepting the hard nips and licks as a form of benediction.
Deliberately and slowly, Draco stepped away, a high blush forming across the
cut planes of his cheeks.
"Bend over the sink," he said softly, menace curling through his
voice suddenly and malicious as a snake's hiss. Blaise turned, putting his
hands down on the edge of the counter and looking down into the porcelian bowl,
legs spread wide and ass offered, round curves cupped lovingly by the tight
material of the skirt. An almost breathless sigh and then Draco's hands framed
the edges of his skirt, lifting it and exposing the silk french-cut panties
Blaise had put on earlier in their room. A hard biting kiss to the middle of
his back through the material of his top and then Blaise heard Draco drop to
his knees. Slowly, the other boy's fingers hooked into the top of his underwear
and drew the lacy scrap of feminine apparel down over the calves of his legs,
garter buckles scraping against his skin and stockings slipping down as well.
The first hungry press of Draco's tongue into the pucker made Blaise jerk,
fingers tightening around the edges of the counter and hips thrusting needily
back onto Draco's face.
"Oh god, please..."
Draco hummed slightly, spreading Blaise with his hands and almost devouring him
with the short steady thrusts of his tongue into the grasping hole. Slowly and
methodically working the ring of muscle open with his mouth, preparing it for
his cock as soon as he was sure he could take Blaise without hurting him - too
much. Blaise whined, rocking between grinding his painful erection against the
far too hard edge of the counter and onto the wet softness of Draco's tongue,
not nearly enough, even though it felt so good. Not enough. Just a slick wet
tease, the tongue so often used to rip someone to shreds of emotional pain and
selfdisgust fucking him steadily and relaxing him to take the much larger
invasion of Draco's cock. Blaise felt like Draco was trying to eat him alive,
fingers hard on his hips and holding him still for the thrusts of his tongue,
licking him apart from the inside. So good. He mewled helplessly, unable to
move except to thrash his head, black hair sticking to the back of his neck in
sweaty strands.
"Sir, please!" Unashamedly begging now, erection throbbing between
his legs and knowing he wouldn't be able to come until he was told to. Or
else...Draco could be cruel when he wasn't pleased. Very cruel. Blaise hated
that at the same time that he loved it. He moaned as Draco bit down hard on one
side of his ass, throwing his head back at the spike of tense pleasure pain and
waiting. The stuttered sound of the zip on Draco's jeans going down was loud
next to Blaise's ragged breathing, the booming thud of the techno dancebeat
shaking through to the bathroom. It was quieter then in the club but still
audible in the tiled closeness of the bathroom, mirror shining his desperate
face back at him. Lip bitten red and eyes wide, painted slut staring as Draco's
face loomed over the curve of his shoulder, obviously in control of the
situation as Blaise panted and moaned, dropping his head again and pushing his
ass back and up, legs spread wide in offering. Draco leant his head against
Blaise's shoulder, putting two fingers in the lipstick framed mouth.
"Suck."
Blaise did so, feeling greedy and desperate as he tasted his own sweat on the
other boy's fingers. The tips of Draco's fingers stroked the top arch of his
mouth, pressing down on his tongue and owning the warm wet space they had been
thrust into as he sucked on them, wetting them with spit. Draco's eyes fixed on
the sight of his elegant fingers disappearing again and again behind the full
red lips. Fingerfucking the mouth below wide innocent-seeming eyes, long lashes
fluttering and dipping as Blaise moaned around his fingers before he took them
away. Spit wasn't enough, really, to ease the way as he slid them inside the
slightly relaxed entrance to Blaise's body, seeking out and finding the bump of
his prostate and jabbing it sharply.
The raven haired teen arched his back and whined, mouth hanging open in a gasp
as his eyes closed for a moment. Riding the burn and moving his hips in time
with the shallow movements of Draco's fingers. Draco kissed him, swallowing the
moans his lover made, drinking them down the pale tilt of his throat and making
them his. His free hand caught the trailing ribbons from Blaise's choker and
pulled on them slowly, tightening the black velvet and bringing sparkles behind
Blaise's eyes before he removed his fingers and moved to blanket Blaise's back
with his body. Not inside yet, head of his cock just nudging the faintly
reddened pucker and rubbing his cheek against the scratchroughness of the lace
at the top of the corset.
"G-god, please, Sir! Fuck me please, oh god, please, just fuck me,"
Blaise babbled, the hard grip on his hips preventing him from just thrusting
back onto the hard erection. God, such a tease. It was right *there* and he
couldn't move onto it or do anything about it. He tossed his head from side to
side, black hair flying and begging with eyes and mouth to be fucked.
The first thrust took him by surprise, Draco just slamming himself inside
without a warning and Blaise went up on his tiptoes, eyes wide and mouth even
wider. Draco pulled him back down by his hips, thumbs digging into the pale
skin hard and leaving more bruises. Blaise could feel the rasp of the denim
against the inside of his legs, neither of them undressed except the most
nessecary parts and the tag of the zipper digging into his skin as Draco bent
him over the sink and fucked him ruthlessly. Making him yell and whine and beg,
hand in the back of his hair forcing him down and almost banging his forehead
against the steel chrome of the taps. The world centred around the back and
forth of the relentless cock inside his body, his own erection trapped between
the fabric of his skirt and the cruel edge of the sink, teeth gnawing at his
shoulder and making marks of ownership.
"Mine," Draco snarled into his ear, putting another vividly
red bitemark against his neck.
"Yours, yours, yours, oh god, I'm yours," Blaise chanted, moaning and
crying out as the thrusts got harder, went deeper. God, so deep. The
denim was scraping his thighs raw each time Draco's hips met the curve of his
ass, planting himself deep inside the willingly submissive body in front of
him.
"Mine. And you'll feel this all day tomorrow when we're back at
school trying to sit down and making like everything's perfect, because you're mine
and I want you to remember that," Draco said in hoarse tones,
corrupted tongue licking across the curve of Blaise's ear. "You're not
allowed to forget that you're mine."
Blaise moaned, until the next thrust of Draco's makes him scream. High and loud
and wavering, almost girlish. The pain of the mostly raw fuck settled into a
pleasurable burn, singing through his veins and making him want to cry with the
ecstasy of it. It was all so wrong. If anyone ever knew about this they
would both be pariahs in the magical community. But it felt so right and
Blaise couldn't quite seperate why some bad things were good to do in the
Slytherin halls and then some other things that were bad were bad as well, when
some good things were bad to do, and oh, he couldn't think about this when
Draco was demanding his attention with a hard cock and now his fingers jacking
him off roughly, thumb flicking over the head of his cock and gathering precome
to slick his hand so Blaise could thrust into it better.
"Come for me," Draco whispered, and Blaise screamed again as he did
so, body shuddering and trembling with pleasure as he shot white strands over
Draco's hand and the inside of his black skirt. The other boy made a hoarse
groan of frustration and roughly thrust into Blaise's quivering and spent body
until he came, slumping over his back. After a moment, he pulled his hand out
from under Blaise's skirt and offered him the wet hand to suck on. Almost sleepily,
Blaise did so, cleaning his come off Draco's hand with lazy flicks of his
tongue and suckling on his fingers, pupils dilated and flying high on the
endorphin rush. "We need to get cleaned up," the older Slytherin told
him, slowly withdrawing from Blaise's body.
Blaise blinked and sighed, feeling come trickle down the inside of his legs. He
took the damp towels from Draco and slowly started to clean himself up, washing
away the white strands of seed and then dropping the tissues in the bin. Draco
was, of course, already done by the time Blaise had refastened his garters and
pulled up his stockings. They had a rip in them from where Draco had scraped
the inside of his legs with a boot as the two of them had fucked, the buckles
tearing straight through the frail material. He fixed his make up, reapplying
red lipstick to his bruised and used looking mouth, mascara tear tracks
painting his cheeks. Those, he kept.
"Alright, I'm ready," Blaise said softly, and Draco unlocked the
door. They stepped back into the heated public almost-orgy of the dancefloor
and Blaise closed his eyes. Burrowing away the memories for the times when he
wouldn't have this.
And he wanted to have this forever so badly.