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Honey and Saliva	By : indira Category: Harry Potter > General > General Views: 2029 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Title: Honey and Saliva
Author: Indira Neill
Pairings: MarcusxPercy, HarryxRon, OliverxPercy, George+Fred
Comment: Simple Motions in a sense was finished, since SM was about Oliver and Percy and obviously that has come to a conclusion. Besides I like writing bdsmish things to begin with. Percy pov once again. And the title is like crime and punishment only in reverse....if you get that you're probably a jrock fan and therefore cool.

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It's sickening.

At eighteen my boyhood lover was ripped away with a simple motion of a blade.

At twenty my adult 'master' teases me with his blade and my blood runs like honey.

It's sickening.

--

Oliver, I wish you could hear me now. If you can, could you just listen in for a bit? I know it's selfish of me, two years later, to ask for you to listen. But maybe now you can actually hear me. Just like you always wanted, to hear the inner workings of Percy Weasley the perfect prefect. You can hear me now, can't you? Please, if you can just listen. Anyone please listen.

It took me a full year to get over the tremors completely. Sometimes I would wake up in the middle of the night screaming for you. Your blood still felt hot and wet and sticky against my chest, I could feel it burning into me. I could feel your last breath. Penny and I lived in a flat in London during that time. She wouldn't allow me to work for the ministry, neither would my parents. They wanted to keep me away from everything for a little bit. Until I got 'better.' I don't think I'll ever get better.

Penelope really is the sweetest thing ever. She didn't deserve to spend another year of her precious life taking care of me. But she did and without a single complaint. Slowly I seemed to the outside world to be snapping out of it, when in reality I was just pushing things deeper and deeper inside as I always did. I always did until I met you. For a few brief months I was outwardly myself, and then I regenerated my cocoon where I now peacefully reside.

At the end of the first year they deemed me fit to resume a normal life. 'He'll be ok now' they said. And no, no one ever asked me any questions. Only Penny and I and perhaps Ron and if Ron defiantly Harry and Hermione know. Only they know how desperately in love we were. I think the rest just assume because it's easier to assume then tear open scars they believe to have healed. Poor little Percy was raped by the strong Quidditch captain Oliver and while he didn't deserve to die Ron was valiant yet wrong in trying to defend his brother. It doesn't matter what they say, you're still dead, Ron is still on the run, and I am still hopelessly alone.

They've never gotten anywhere close to finding Ron. Harry is certainly making sure of that. I'm sure by now they've expanded on their relationship. We always knew it was only a matter of time. I remember joking about it once or twice.

After the first year I moved back home to the Burrow. I just can't tear myself away. Nearly got myself into trouble as well. The first night I feel asleep in Ron's room. Mum and Dad left it exactly as it was. I just crawled into his bed like I did the day of your funeral and wrapped the sheets around myself. Under the pillow was a small piece of parchment, it simply read 'I'm sorry, Percy. I love you.' It was unmistakably from Ron. He knew I would find it somehow, and I'm glad he sent it. I took out my quill and scribbled a note back. 'I forgive you. I love you.' Once I had finished I opened the window and let the parchment drop from my hand as it was carried away in the wind. It will find him, I know it. Maybe it hasn't yet, but some day it will, and then the cycle will be complete and we will have made our peace with each other and the world.

Ginny found me the next morning curled up on Ron's bed with a little blood dripping from my lip. I still can't explain where it came from. But that was where my bloodlust, no, perhaps that isn't the right word. Masochism, that is where my masochism began.

Every time I see my own blood pooling on my thin chest moved by shallow breaths I think of you and only you.

My parents were horribly worried after that, always keeping a close eye on me as I began work at the Ministry. They were more then willing to accept me and commented that they were getting worried I would never come. It felt wonderful to be wanted. No one had wanted me since you. And then there was him.

I couldn't believe it at first, Marcus Flint, Marcus who failed his N.E.W.T.s the first time around, working for the Ministry. He was the same as ever, but this time you weren't around to protect me. I wanted you so desperately. I really was the little lost prince searching for a hero. But the hero had already been slain, and I was left alone with the dragon.

He would make little excuses to come visit me, to make work hell. Something different was behind his glassy eyes though. More then just hatred and envy, there was an animalistic lust there. It frightened me. It hit me all over again, how much I needed you there with me, supporting me. Whether it be as a friend or a lover I needed you and you weren't there.

Forgive me for being weak. Please forgive me.

I know he only wants me for my body, my thin arms and pale skin. He lusts after my weakness and tried to draw my soul out and into him. He tries to consume me whole but not the way you once did. Not because he wants to know every little detail of how I function. He draws me in to destroy me and every night he comes a little bit closer to his goal. He pulls out a little more and puts in something more corrupt, exchanging honey for saliva.

And I let him. I fucking let him because I want to feel wanted. I've stopped my afair with love. Love is a thing of childhood dreams and whispers in the dark. I may no longer be an innocent but I am still very much a child. I can't shake away my childhood, just like you were never allowed release from adolescence. You were never given the chance, how unfair. And how selfish of me to hold myself back from a joy you would never be allowed. Or are you the one holding me here in childhood? I don't understand. I can't grow up.

He'll be here any moment now, and I should let you go if you're there at all. I still don't know if you were supposed to be the love of my life or anything like that. But you cared for me and I cared deeply for you. No one will ever be able to take that away from us, even in death. Soon enough I'm sure I'll join you. But I can't expect you to wait for me. And I don't think I could wait for you.

He knocks forcefully at my door as he always does. I should let you go, but I want you to stay, stay and watch us. See what your death has done to me. We're all just Pavlov's dogs right? Sex and blood are like my food and saliva. One precedes the other, you did that to me. Arousal feeds my blood lust.

I should probably explain where I am. It's actually Marcus' flat in London. He has a distain for the wizarding world I suspect. It may be his but he likes the idea of breaking in, of 'raping' me against my will, he gets off on it. So on the nights he wants me I go to his apartment ahead of him and play meek for him.

I open the door just a little and the next thing I know I'm pressed against the wall. He pulls me away and slams me against it again and again, blood rising up in my throat. I would have never wanted this with you, Oliver. But now I can't live without it.

All for you.
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Honey and Saliva