Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Blackmail the Beast	By : Tnteacups Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 8503 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or any of the characters, terms, or themes. I do not own Not Even Bones, or it's characters, themes, terms. I make no money from this piece of fiction.

Chapter List
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The knock at Number Thirteen’s door didn’t surprise Harry, but what did surprise him was that it came five minutes early. He’d expected Malfoy to wait until the last possible minute to show up. The blackmail was apparently more convincing than Harry had thought. He’d sent Malfoy an owl Friday evening, instructing Malfoy to be at this address at noon, Saturday. A single minute late, and he’d leak Malfoy’s secret. Malfoy, it appeared, had no intention of being sold out.
“Kreacher, Draco Malfoy is at the door. You’re not to let him see you, or know you’re here, okay?”
“Yes, Master Harry. Kreacher will stay hidden.”
“Thanks.” Harry smiled at the elf, and went to answer the door as the elf disappeared into the kitchen. He didn’t want Malfoy to get any ideas about killing his elf to stop the blackmail.
“Is this your house, Potter?” Malfoy still sounded furious as he stepped inside, glancing behind him worriedly.
“Yes. Don’t worry, it’s unplottable, and hidden by a Fidelius charm. No one will know you’re here, and if they do, we’ll tell them we’re trying to mend broken tensions after the war or some nonsense. No one’s going to know I’m feeding off of you.” Harry’s confidence seemed to break Malfoy’s anger, but he still pouted as he followed Harry up the stairs. He knew Harry wouldn’t risk being found out, and had no real argument against doing this here.
“We’re not going to use my personal room, because I don’t want to make a mess of it.” Harry said as he opened the door to a guest room. “Also, if you pass out, I can just leave you here until you wake up, so it’s safer to be here, than some abandoned building.”
He hadn’t waited so long that the hunger was unmanageable, but he could feel it inside him like a hole, needing to be filled. Now that he had a permanent, and tight-lipped source of sex, he could feed more frequently, and he wasn’t going ot let himself starve for no good reason.
“Fine.” Malfoy agreed tersely, nodding once in understanding. Harry kicked the door shut, and practically pounced on Malfoy, grabbing him, and pressing their lips together desperately. He sighed with relief as the first few tendrils of desire were found, and he lapped them up, licking Malfoy’s tongue to taste his arousal. He was stiff again, a statue, refusing to respond. Harry stepped back, frowning.
“Take your clothes off.” He demanded, not lifting a finger to help as Malfoy began stripping wordlessly. He glared at Harry the entire time, but Harry wasn’t fooled. He could smell the budding arousal. Malfoy clearly remembered how it had felt last time, and couldn’t stop himself from craving that extreme gratification, even as he hated being blackmailed into enjoying it.
When he stood totally nude, Harry stared at him, enjoying the sight. He savored the view of uninterrupted skin, of already flushing cheeks, and the burning eyes. He knew the effect he had on people, especially repeat victims. Their bodies remembered him, and craved the pleasure he brought. Malfoy would soon learn that there was no use getting angry about it. But really, did Harry mind the anger so much? Not really. It was like adding spice to his meal.
“Get on your knees.” He pointed at the ground, and watched Malfoy’s face go through a series of emotions. Confusion, incredulity, and loathing. Despite it, he sank to the ground, naked, and in a position of weakness as Harry stepped into his space. He knew what was coming, and he averted his eyes, glaring at the wall as Harry rested his arms behind his back, and stared down at the platinum head that was at the perfect height.
“Suck me off, Malfoy.” the order was soft, but steely, leaving no room for argument. Malfoy knew how this was going to go. He could refuse, and Harry might reveal him to the world. Or he could do as Harry told him, and enjoy the high he’d get in return. He flashed a hateful glare up at Harry, and the brunet felt a thrill of dark delight go up his spine as Malfoy lifted a hand to open the fly in front of this face. Satisfying his basic lust was easy, but satisfying the need to dominate his victims was harder to do. It was so difficult to find someone who would submit without it feeling too easy. Malfoy, it seemed, was perfect in more than one way.
He was rock hard by the time Malfoy got him free, and his eyes were half lidded as he watched the blond hesitantly grip the base and wrap his lips around the head. He moaned softly at the feel of the wet mouth around him, the warmth seeping into his skin, the pleasure bouncing from Malfoy’s mouth to his cock, and back. The magical effect of skin on skin contact was affecting him already, and Malfoy moved a little smoother as he bobbed his head, less inhibited as his hand joined the motion. Harry grinned with enjoyment as he slipped his hands into Malfoy’s hair, and helped him along, pulling him farther and farther down his shaft. Malfoy didn’t bother struggling much, until Harry pulled him roughly to the base, burying his arousal in Malfoy’s throat. He struggled, then. He pushed at Harry’s thighs, and Harry could feel the gagging of his tongue, the way his torso pulled back, the nails digging into his hips as Malfoy fought to be let up, to breathe. He could feel the low humming of arousal that filled Malfoy at the abusive act, and he felt his smile twist maliciously.
Malfoy gasped desperately when he finally let him up, his eyes watering, and drool dripping down his chin. Harry loved seeing him brought to such a state, his hair mussed from where it’d been grabbed. Angry, tear-filled eyes shot up to pin a deadly stare on him, accusing him of unnecessary mistreatment, and Harry shrugged.
“I didn’t tell you to stop.” Harry drawled meanly, sifting his fingers back into Malfoy’s hair, guiding him back forward. Malfoy snarled, but let the other man fill his mouth again, his pride fighting with his enjoyment. He clearly didn’t want to seem weak in front of Harry, of all people. Harry would just have to teach him that when it came to this, there was no weakness. Only desire. He’d known when Harry took hold of his hair again that it was going to repeat, but still, he struggled when Harry forced himself all the way past Malfoy’s lips. He didn’t admonish the struggling, or the stinging claw marks he knew he’d have later. He just jerked Malfoy’s head back and forth, fucking his throat with a disregard for Malfoy’s comfort that surprised him. The small zings of lust didn’t stop coming from Malfoy, though, and Harry was a bit more surprised that Malfoy hadn’t bitten him yet, to get the torture to stop.
“Look at me.” Harry ordered, holding the lips against his skin as Malfoy obeyed, focusing his hateful stare upward, struggling to look Harry in the eyes without choking himself worse. Harry felt a rare urge, and knew it wasn’t one of his own. Looking down into Malfoy’s eyes, he pursed his lips, and spat right in the blond’s face. The saliva hit his cheek, making him flinch, but Harry felt the tingle of arousal that followed, and smiled evilly. Malfoy was absolutely a submissive, even if he refused to admit it, Harry knew. Keeping one hand in his hair to hold him on his dick, he brought his other to Malfoy’s face, and smeared his fingers through his own saliva, spreading it up his perfect face, then back down. He jerked Malfoy off of his erection, and as the blond gasped in a choking breath, trying to double over, Harry forced his head back, and spat on him again, using his fingers to guide a trail of it toward his mouth. He forced his spit across Malfoy’s tongue, and nearly laughed at the disgusted way Malfoy jerked away, and wiped a hand across his mouth, trying to get rid of the taste of Harry.
“What the FUCK, Potter!?” Malfoy shouted, pushing his way to his feet, and staring with fury into Harry’s smiling face. Harry knew his smile wasn’t quite right. It was the smile that had made people on the street shy away from him when he was hunting, the smile that had made one victim shiver with fear as he looked down at her tied up and helpless. It was the smile of a monster who knew exactly what he could get away with.
Malfoy was wiping his face, trying to dry the saliva away, but Harry had already felt his pleasure in it. It was too late for Malfoy to pretend he was above such treatment. Harry was gleeful at the thought of Malfoy, the haughty, arrogant, Malfoy, getting off on being treated like such a filthy slut.
“Malfoy, have you EVER let someone else be in control before me?” He asked, wondering if maybe Malfoy hadn’t realized before that he’d like being used and degraded.
“Of course not! I’m not some desperate bitch, and if you try that shit again, I swear, I don’t care how many people find out what I am, I will gladly peel your face off, and castrate you while you die.” Malfoy snarled, and for the first time since he’d decided to blackmail Malfoy, he felt a tingle of fear. Usually Malfoy’s threats were far more general. This one sent a shiver up his back, and he couldn’t help imagining the man tied to the chair. He’d been unable to stop thinking about him all week, wondering how far Malfoy had taken the torture, feeling guilty for not stopping it. He’d been thinking about how to satisfy his own needs, though, and he couldn’t go back and change his mind. Suddenly, he was imaginging those small shivers that had gone through Malfoy when he’d felt the man’s pain, and imagined him wracked with the same pleasure Harry had given him as he carved the man’s face from the bones underneath. He eyed Malfoy warily, seeing the hunger that lingered in his eyes with the threat.
“You haven’t eaten this week, have you?” He asked, wondering if Malfoy’s hunger was like his, if it would take over if it got too strong.
“No.” Malfoy growled, “And I’m rather hungry, so don’t push it. I wouldn’t mind making you scream a bit.”
Harry stepped back, and reconsidered, eyes narrowed. His incubus side did make him heal a bit faster than humans. It raised his pain tolerance, especially during sex.
“Do you lose control when you feed, or is it easy for you to stop?” Harry asked, full of curiosity. He’d never heard of whatever Malfoy was, and the Auror in him wanted to unravel the mystery.
“I can stop, if I want to.” Malfoy’s eyes flashed with warning, implying if Harry crossed a line, he wouldn’t care to stop.
“Alright. Don’t leave anything permanent, and nothing that can’t be hidden by my work robes.” Harry compromised, entirely too curious about what it would feel like to fuck a pain-eating monster while he fed.
“What?” Malfoy looked at him, confused, as Harry began taking his own clothes off.
“We can feed each other. I don’t know how much pain you need, but I can handle quite a bit, especially while I’m fucking.” Harry explained. Malfoy looked dumbfounded, and then an evil smile spread across his face.
“You couldn’t handle feeding me, Potter. Most of those I feed from die. And they’re the best ones.” Malfoy managed to get Harry to pull a face at the vile imagery.
“I may not be able to fully sustain you, but if you need to eat while you're here, you can work it into the program." Harry offered, feeling as though maybe this could be a form of earning forgiveness for being unable to turn Malfoy in, and save others. He could at least suffer with them.
"You're serious?" Malfoy asked, eyes narrowed, as if weighing the choice of going hungry, or taking a bit of pain from his blackmailer.
"Dead serious." Harry smirked.
"What's the catch? You said last time that torture wasn’t your thing, so what are you going to ask for, later, as payment?" Malfoy asked, still anxious. Harry thought about it. Malfoy wouldn't believe him if he said nothing. He didn't want to mention his weird need for some sort of atonement.
"Call it a trade. I'll let you hurt me, but only if I get to fuck you however I want. A little give and take, if you want." Harry explained. Malfoy eyed him for a moment longer.
"Yeah. Sure." He agreed, and Harry swelled with delight. He'd given Malfoy the perfect excuse to lie back and enjoy his secret desire to be degraded. Malfoy approached him slowly, and shoved him down on the bed, his eyes filling with a hungry fire that Harry recognized. He grinned as Malfoy stared down at him, eyes roaming as if looking for the perfect place to start nibbling. He knelt on the bed, trapping Harry beneath him, and Harry fought the surge of desire to escape from the low position. Malfoy might be on top, but he was far from being in control.
"What is it you're called, anyway?" Harry asked conversationally as Malfoy skimmed his fingers down his bare stomach, as if he were eager to dig them in, and rip Harry apart. Harry shivered, and when it was clear he wasn’t going to get an answer, reached up, grabbing Malfoy's face, and brought it to his. He attacked Malfoy with what could almost be called a kiss, if it weren't for the vicious biting and probing that he used to egg Malfoy into reciprocating.
Malfoy bit back, harshly, drawing blood, and shivered with the pain Harry winced from. He could taste his own blood, and the musky flavor of his own sex mingling through the kiss, and his hands were on Malfoy's bare skin faster than lightning. He pressed their bodies flush together, drowning in the feeling of Malfoy getting more turned on by the second. Malfoy's teeth scraped off of his lip, and descended to his throat, biting harshly, but not hard enough to leave a mark, Harry noted. When the teeth found his shoulder, though, he jerked, and a gasp escaped him as the pain flooded his mind. The pain lessened as Malfoy let up, but then came back twofold as he bit the same spot again, bruising to the muscle beneath. Harry groaned, still holding Malfoy's body to his. He wasn't willing to lose his own feeding over such a simple pain. He'd dealt with worse, and he knew he'd suffer more before Malfoy was finished. He slipped one hand between their bodies, and began stroking Malfoy's erection, adding a desperate panting breath to the pain at his shoulder. Malfoy was shivering as he soaking in the pain, and when he finally released the skin, his head fell forward, and the shaking didn't stop. Harry sped his hand up, feeling the overwhelming crash that came from Malfoy, and a moment later, the warmth on his stomach from the blond's orgasm. Malfoy took a moment to catch his breath, before he sat up, rolling to the side.
"I take it you've never gotten sexual with your food before?" Harry asked, surprised with just how quickly he'd finished.
"I have." Malfoy admitted, staring up at the ceiling. His cheeks flushed and he didn't look at Harry as he spoke. "It's just different with you. Stronger."
"Well, hopefully not too strong. We're not done." Harry purred, throwing himself over Malfoy. He kissed the blond, more gently than earlier, his lip still stinging from the first bite. Malfoy seemed to feel the stinging pain, too, and shivered, kissing harder, making Harry's lip burn. He licked at the blood he'd drawn, but not for the need of blood. His tongue was seeking out the small cut, probing against it to cause more small zings of pain to Harry. Harry, for his part, was rubbing himself against Malfoy's now-flaccid length, forcing a hyper-sensitive pleasure into his partner. Malfoy shuddered with the almost painful feeling, but with Harry touching so much of him, Harry knew most painful things would translate right into the best feelings.
It didn’t take long before Malfoy was hard again, and writhing beneath Harry, his hands coming up to dig sharp nails into Harry’s hips. Harry winced with the force of the digits grabbing him. He knew they’d bruise, but he didn’t dare pull them away. The blond growled, needy and desperate as Harry rutted against him, but no matter how hard he grabbed, or how he squirmed, Harry didn’t change his tactic. Malfoy felt like he was getting desperate, and desperate victims were more likely to be grateful for the violations he brought them.
When Malfoy’s nails broke skin, Harry decided to step things up. He nudged Malfoy’s knees apart, and knelt between them. He broke his lips free just long enough to mutter the lubrication spell, and then was kissing the blond again, ignoring the dull ache in his lip that made Malfoy grin and lick him. He spread the oil hastily across his sex, and wiped his hand clean on the sheets. He didn’t bother stretching Malfoy this time; he shoved himself inside the tight hole swiftly.
A loud, pained half-groan, half-shout filled his ears as Malfoy jerked beneath him. Malfoy’s arm came up to wrap around his shoulder, fingers digging into his previous deep bite mark while his teeth sank into his opposite shoulder. Harry let out a sharp grunt of complaint, but stayed put, thrusting hard and fast into the unprepared body, taking more pain than he was giving. The fingernails on Malfoy’s other hand were dragging down his back, hard, causing lines of fire to spread from his neck to his side. Through the pain, he could practically taste Malfoy’s enjoyment, and the pain and pleasure mixed beautifully to bring him off nearly as fast as Malfoy had come.
He pulled free, and yanked himself up, away from the biting teeth and fingers. Malfoy groaned at the loss of edible pain, but Harry felt no remorse. He stared down at Malfoy, taking in the hazy and baleful look in his eyes, his mussed hair, the way his arms had fallen to the sides when Harry pulled away. His dick was still fully erect, and his lips were swollen from kisses. Harry loved the way he looked, desperate, and lewd, splayed before him like an offering to a god. His shoulders and back were still throbbing, and he decided to take his payment out in humiliation.
He slipped a hand between Malfoy’s legs, and caught a small sample of his cum that was leaking out of Malfoy. He moved swiftly, before Malfoy realized what he was doing, he grabbed him by the throat, and shoved his messy fingers against those perfect pink lips.
“Lick it off.” He ordered, grinning maliciously as Malfoy’s face twisted with disgust and vivid hatred. He tried to turn his head to the side, but Harry squeezed tighter, cutting his air off, and followed his mouth with his fingers, pressing harder. “Open your mouth.” His voice was hard, demanding. Pink-faced, Malfoy complied, straightening his head out, and locking his hateful stare on Harry’s as he let his lips loosen just enough for Harry’s fingers to slip past. He found Malfoy’s tongue, and rubbed his fingers on it, swirling the tips around it, making absolutely certain the taste of them together was filling his mouth. Even through Malfoy’s mask of repulsed spite, Harry saw his erection twitch in response, and fed on the ripples of undisguisable enjoyment Malfoy felt. Harry pulled his fingers free, only to repeat the action, bringing another taste of them to Malfoy’s lips.
“Suck them.” Harry commanded, his fingers resting lazily against Malfoy’s tongue, waiting for him to do the work. Malfoy hesitated only a moment, his eyes darting to the bruises at Harry’s shoulders hungrily. His lips tightened around Harry’s skin, and his tongue lapped at the mess inside the warm cavern. “Swallow.”
Malfoy’s throat moved without hesitation, and Harry felt a thrill of glee flow through him as the blond focused on his task of licking the fingers clean, sucking gently. Harry slid his fingers free, wiping them across Malfoy’s face as he grabbed a handful of hair, and brought his lips down to kiss him, tasting the flavor for himself. He knew he was shivering slightly as they kissed, but the small waves of Malfoy’s enjoyment were more than he could hide, and he was surprised that Malfoy was feeling a clearly physical response to purely mental stimulation. He wanted to push Malfoy further, see what he’d take, see where his need for humiliation and domination ended.
“Open your mouth.” He murmured against soft lips, and was surprised he didn’t have to repeat his order, or bully him into complying. The lips parted, and as he looked down into grey eyes, Malfoy was losing the battle to keep his arousal off of his face. Harry smirked, and let a dribble of his saliva drip into the open mouth. “Swallow it.”
Malfoy hesitated, his face flickering with a bevy of emotions, but Harry shivered, and knew which one would win out. Malfoy closed his mouth and swallowed the indignity. Harry kissed him, his tongue swirling around the abused mouth, the pain in his lip forgotten.
His hands grabbed Malfoy’s knees, and he brought them up, splaying the blonde wide open, and he absorbed the flutter of desire that came from the act. Harry slid himself back into the still-wet opening, using his own cum as a lubricant. Malfoy didn’t feel pain this time, and as Harry took up the same fast, hard pace, his eyes rolled back in his head with pure bliss. He moaned, grabbing at Harry once more, but to Harry’s surprise, he didn’t cause any pain. He must’ve been too distracted, Harry thought. He could fix that.
He pulled his face out of range, let one of Malfoy’s legs go, and slapped him hard in the face. Malfoy jerked, but moaned harder, his eyes closed, his hands pressed flat to the small of Harry’s back, urging him on. Harry let out a short laugh at the clearly high man. He was much more fun like this, open to whatever Harry wanted, without wanting anything in return except the pleasure of being fucked. Harry thought for a moment about playing with him, urging him to say embarrassing things he knew he’d remember and hate having said when his mind cleared. It was tempting. Malfoy would get over it, he decided.
“Do you like that?” He asked, his voice rough, his hips snapping noisily against Malfoy’s. Malfoy nodded, responding to the leading tone Harry used.
“Do you want me to stop?”
A head shake for no.
“So you want me to keep fucking you?”
A nod.
“Say it.”
“Yes.” It was trembly, and barely audible, but unmistakable.
“You like me using you, don’t you?”
“Ye-”
Herry cut the word off, squeezing his throat so he couldn’t finish speaking, and watched Malfoy’s face warp into rapture.
“Tell me you love me.” The words slipped from Harry’s lips, and he stared down into Malfoy’s eyes, unable to take it back. He’d said the same thing to so many people, demanded they feel some false emotion for him. Malfoy didn’t even open his eyes. Didn’t question the request.
“I love you.” He mouthed when Harry gave him enough air to speak again. Harry soared, intoxicated by the line he’d crossed, the way Malfoy’s body was responding to him, his hips coming up to meet his thrusts, his voice spilling out in loud moans. He was beyond reason, and Harry knew, if he wanted to, he could fuck him to death, and Malfoy would never lift a finger to stop him.
Harry pulled himself free, and ignored Malfoy’s whine of complaint, rolling to the side, so he could manhandle the thin blond where he wanted him. He grabbed handfuls of platinum hair and dragged the man to the floor, forcing him to his knees. Malfoy winced, and his eyes cleared a bit, but Harry grabbed his face, and pressed his slick, sex-covered cock to Malfoy’s lips, giving him something to do before he could really take note of the change. Malfoy’s lips easily parted, and his head began bobbing easily on the shaft, sucking and licking like it was a treat. Harry groaned, loving the sight of it. Malfoy would have made an amazing slave, if he could just stay in this hazy, sex-high state. Harry slid his other hand into tousled hair, and began fucking Malfoy’s mouth. He could feel his tongue still trying to work, his lips creating suction.
“Jerk yourself off.” He ordered, watching Malfoy’s hand dip down to obey. He was stroking himself quickly, and Harry didn’t miss that it was perfectly in time with Harry’s thrusting hips, nor did he miss the shuddering pleasure that indicated Malfoy was just as close to orgasm as he was. It only took a few more thrusts before he spilled himself in Malfoy’s mouth, and Malfoy came all over the floor, swallowing the cum before Harry could tell him to, sucking the last few drops free.
Harry pulled Malfoy off of his cock, and yanked him by his hair back to his feet. Malfoy looked a bit confused, the glazed look in his eyes fading, and Harry shoved him roughly into the bed. He climbed on top of him, pinning him on his front before he could roll over.
“I’m not done with you yet.” Harry promised, using his hands to guide Malfoy into the position he wanted. Face pressed to the sheets, hips in the air, knees parted. Harry knelt behind him, and slid back into the blond, still hard, despite his orgasms. Malfoy’s recent climax made him sensitive nearly to the point of agony, and Harry pushed him further, forcing more and more pleasure on his tender body.
“Ahh.” Malfoy groaned with discomfort, but his hips were pushing back against Harry’s thrusts. He tried to lift himself to all fours, but Harry shoved him back down, and grabbed his arms, pinning them behind his back, and using the man’s own weight to keep him in the position Harry wanted. Malfoy’s mouth fell open, moaning into the bed, and Harry saw the glazed look fall back across his face. He couldn’t help himself.
“You swallowed my cum so easily. Was it really that good?” He teased, holding the arms in place with one hand, and sliding another through Malfoy’s hair to get his attention.
“No…” Malfoy groaned, and Harry smirked. He wasn’t quite as compliant as he’d been earlier. He could easily remedy that, though. He pulled his hand back from the hair and slid it down Malfoy’s back, and over his bum. In between one thrust and another, he slapped the pale arse so hard a red mark appeared instantly, and Malfoy groaned, wincing into the bed. Harry hit the same spot again, and Malfoy’s arms jerked slightly in his grip, but Harry held tighter, keeping him down. He slapped the spot once more, harder than the first two, and Malfoy yelped, but didn’t struggle, his breath coming in fast panting gasps. Harry jerked with him, taking a moment to savor the sharp burst of pleasure that came from his partner. Malfoy wiggled slightly in the absence of the spanking, and Harry grinned.
“Say my name, and I’ll let you come.” He promised darkly, giving in to the possessive influence of the monster inside him.
“Fuck you, Potter.” Malfoy panted, though his voice lacked the usual resentment. Harry slapped his rear again, and pushed his arms higher, stressing the shoulders into nearly painful angles.
“No, my name, Draco. Tell me to fuck you. Say you love feeling me inside you.” He demanded, feeling another climax approaching as the small whimper of protest preceded the words. The beast he fed wanted more, NEEDED more.
“Fuck!” Malfoy panted harshly, squeezing his eyes shut. Harry thought about halting the pleasure he gave until Malfoy complied, but another thought came to him. He thrust faster, his free hand wrapping around Malfoy’s torso to pinch and twist at one of his nipples, yanking roughly on the small pleasure-point.
“Fuck me!” Malfoy practically shouted, a crest of heavenly ecstasy wrapping around Harry like a blanket as Malfoy approached another orgasm. “Fuck me, Harry! Fuck! Fuck!”
Harry came inside him again, that final little bit overcome by Malfoy’s apparent loss of control over his mouth. It wasn’t verbatim what he’d wanted, but it was good. It was vocal, and needy, and as he slowed to a finish, he realized it was all Malfoy. His cheeks were flushed, and his eyes were squeezed shut, and he’d been struggling not to get lost in the pleasure-high again. So he’d been fully aware when he said it. Harry purred with contentment, and let go of Malfoy’s arms, sliding his hand forward to stroke the platinum hair.
“Get off of me.” Malfoy demanded, humiliation clear on his face as he shoved himself away from Harry, and tried to get up. He collapsed to the floor, and Harry grinned.
“Problems, Draco?” He asked, using the name like a barb, leaning over the side of the bed to look at the naked blond sprawled on the floor.
“Don’t say my name like that, you fucking prick!” Malfoy demanded, but Harry just chuckled.
“You must be starving. You barely hurt me at all before you lost it.” Harry murmured, not offering to help him up. He grinned down at the blond, an idea filling his mind. He lifted a hand to his own shoulder, and pressed the bruise, watching Malfoy shiver, and close his eyes.
“It’s not enough.” Malfoy whispered, opening his eyes, and staring at the door he couldn’t reach.
“What do you need?” Harry asked in a business-like tone, playing with Malfoy as he sat trapped by his own shuddering limbs, the many orgasms weakening him as Harry had feasted.
“Nothing you can give me.” Malfoy snarled, pushing himself to his feet just long enough to collapse to the bed, huffing with the effort.
“We could go again, then you wouldn’t have to worry about eating at all. Ever.” Harry taunted, feeling only the smallest twinge of guilt at having fucked Malfoy into such a weak state.
“Fuck you, Potter.” Malfoy spat, glaring at him as he leaned back, trying to both rest, and not put himself in a position where Harry could climb on top of him. Harry saw the flicker of worry on his face, though, and knew the pain-eating monster who tortured people was actually a little scared of him. He knew, just like Harry did, that if he wanted, Harry could fuck him again, and make him go to his death begging for more. Malfoy didn’t like that Harry’s victims could reach the same end as his without screaming and struggling.
“Is that an offer?” Harry asked scooting closer, and traced a single finger down one of Malfoy’s outstretched arms. Malfoy yanked his arm away, and turned to face Harry.
“Sure. You can fuck me again, after you let me tie you up, and break you.” Malfoy sneered back. Harry rolled his eyes at the dramatic words. Malfoy might be hungry, but he was definitely still a drama-queen.
“I’ll be right back.” He announced, slipping off the bed, and striding naked to the door. He could feel Malfoy’s eyes following him, and knew how he looked. Full of Malfoy’s sexual energy, well-fed, and satisfied, he looked shining, confident, and powerful. He knew it was an alluring look that not even Malfoy could ignore. He left Malfoy in the room and went down the hall to his own, snatching up the pocket knife he kept in his sock drawer. When he got back to the room, Malfoy had sprawled backwards, his eyes closed, his arms spread wide to either side of him, and Harry paused to appreciate the image. It was similar to how he’d looked earlier, and Harry felt himself getting hard again.
He flicked the knife open, and still looking at Malfoy, drug the tip in a short, shallow slice across his forearm. Malfoy shuddered, and sat up. He saw Harry standing there, and his eyes fell to the new wound on his arm, and a small smile curved his lips. As satiated as he was, Harry knew that between his increased healing, and the dittany in his bathroom, he could heal even a deep wound to barely a scratch before work on Monday. He closed the knife, and tossed it to Malfoy as he walked back to the bed. Malfoy grabbed it out of the air, and flicked it open, running his thumb along the edge, testing the sharpness.
“It’s a little dull.” He mumbled, but stayed seated as Harry sat next to him.
“So it’ll hurt a little more.” Harry shrugged it off, and held his arm out. “Nothing below that line.” He indicated the slice he’d already made, and Malfoy’s eyes seemed to light up with anticipation. He snatched Harry’s arm, holding it steady as he brought the knife to the skin. Harry winced as Malfoy shivered, and another line of blood appeared. Malfoy paused, knife hovering of Harry’s arm.
“Is this still under the same agreement as earlier, or do you want something in return?” He asked, suddenly hesitant. Harry shrugged.
“Tell me about what you are.” He urged. “I’ve never heard of it before, and I’m curious.”
Malfoy thought about it a moment, and the sharp pain in Harry’s arm let him know he’d decided to accept.
“It’s called different things in different cultures. Krasue, folterelf, zannie. My family always just called it The Hunger. It skipped my mother, but Bellatrix is the same. It’s the only reason we supported the Dark Lord, really. He provided a perfect excuse to torture people.” Another sliver of pain, and Malfoy looked down at his work. Harry followed his gaze, and saw the three lines connected. Was Malfoy going to spell something out in blood? The blond shivered and another line joined the others, longer, deeper. Harry hissed as Malfoy savored the pain. His arm was held steady by Malfoy’s grip, and Malfoy cut him again.
“It’s a lot like incubi, or a psychic vampire, where we feed off of others’ energies, but… Our methods sometimes have damage that can’t be healed. Our victims usually die.” Malfoy slid the knife under Harry’s skin, and Harry groaned, doing his best to focus on the words, and not the little shudders that Malfoy had every time a new bloom of agony raced up his arm.
“Stop.” Malfoy paused, his eyes flicking back up, hunger clear in them as the knife paused, still inside his skin. “You can’t tell me any specific deaths. Nothing more than generalizations. Got it?”
Malfoy nodded, and his eyes flicked back down to his work. Harry groaned as he tilted the knife, and sank it deeper. He avoided any serious damage, but it hurt like hell, and Harry started to have doubts about agreeing to this.
“After eating, I can’t feel pain as badly myself, but slowly, the longer I go without, the worse it gets. I feel pain, and not just if it’s inflicted on me. I start to feel the pain that I caused to my last victim. It gets worse, and worse, and if I don’t eat, and make it stop, I’ll die. The strain will get to be too much, and my heart will just give up.” Malfoy said as he pulled the knife free slowly, every centimeter making Harry flinch.
“I heard Bellatrix survived in Azkaban only because people went crazy, and hurt themselves without realizing. She fed off their insanity, but it was never quite enough. Before, she wasn’t quite as crazy, but afterwards, she was absolutely mad.” The tip of the knife went straight down, and as his arm jerked involuntarily, it created a deep, if short, gash. Blood poured onto the sheets below, and Malfoy moaned a bit as he shivered.
“This is good, but it still won’t be enough.” Malfoy observed, brushing the hair from his face with bloody fingers.
“How much do you need?”
“A lot. That’s why most people die. Little cuts like this would keep me from starving, but I’d have to do it for a while, every day.” He still made another incision, fast, and shallow. “Generally, if it’s not enough to make them scream for an hour or more, it’s not enough.”
“I’m not going to scream.” Harry warned, staring into the hungry grey eyes.
“Then I should go find someone else to eat.” Malfoy said, but he made another cut. Harry watched as he trembled. Harry turned his arm a little, twisting the cuts, making each and every one flare with agony, but the effect on Malfoy was well-worth the pain. The blond hunched a bit, a moan sliding into the air between them, and when his eyes met Harry’s, there was something that Harry might mistake for respect in them.
“I’ll give you that, Potter. You’ve got a ridiculously high pain tolerance. Is it part of being an incubus, or just you being a freak?” Malfoy asked, adding longer cut to the others.
“A bit of both, I suppose.” Harry answered, his teeth clenched. He may be able to handle it, but he didn’t enjoy it. Malfoy turned his hand over, exposing the softer, paler skin of his inner arm, and touched the knife to his inner elbow.
“Ah!” Harry grunted as Malfoy slowly pressed the knife in and drug it halfway down his arm. His whole arm was slippery with blood, but Malfoy didn’t seem finished. He let go of Harry’s wrist, and took his shoulder, holding Harry in place as he lifted the knife. Harry clenched his hand into a fist as Malfoy cut into his upper arm, his eyes fervent, his body shaking slightly as the pain slowly built with each new wound. A few cuts later, he dropped Harry’s shoulder, and drug the knifepoint across his collar, and down his chest. For a moment, Harry worried he was going to try killing him. With a small flick of his wrist, Malfoy opened another wound, just below his nipple. Harry grunted, and grabbed Malfoy’s wrist, stopping him from making another.
“I’m getting dizzy. I’ve got dittany in the bathroom, right across the hall. Cabinet above the sink.” Harry breathed the instructions, taking a deep breath to try to clear the light-headed feeling. He looked down at the sheets below them, and saw more blood than he’d expected. The deep gash on his arm was bleeding more than he’d thought it was. Malfoy disappeared, and Harry didn’t really expect him to come back, but when he did, he held the jar of yellow paste out, for Harry to take.
“Thanks.” Harry mumbled, and twisted it open, smirking at the way Malfoy still shivered with the pain that the motion caused Harry. “How about with the Cruciatus Curse? How long would that take?”
“It wouldn’t work at all. The way the curse works… it sort of… tricks you into thinking it hurts. It’s not real pain. I can’t eat it.” Malfoy said with a frown. “It would make life much easier if I could.”
“I see.” Harry was grateful for that information. He’d been half-heartedly turning over the idea of offering to let Malfoy use it on him, if things got too bad. He fell into silence as he applied the dittany to his wounds, and Malfoy pulled his clothes on. As Malfoy reached for the door again, Harry spoke up.
“Be here next Saturday, at noon, Malfoy. Not a minute later.”
Malfoy glared at him and left without a word, but Harry knew he wouldn’t be late.
A/N: So, the pain eating creature that Malfoy is, a 'zannie' is not my idea. I got it from 'Not Even Bones', by Rebecca Schaffer. Love the book, 100% reccomend. SHe, of course, writes the monster much better than I do.
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Blackmail the Beast