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I Hate You I Love You	By : Misty Category: Harry Potter > General > General Views: 1203 -:- 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
- 1-I Hate You I Love You
- 1
Title: I Hate You I Love You

Author: Misty Waters; toadstoolcouch@yahoo.co.uk

Pairing: Harry/Draco

Rating: NC-17

Disclaimer: I don't own shit. Don't sue me. Cuz you won't get shit.

Warnings: Rape, BDSM, blood play, slightly Out of Character Harry, mentions of incest

Summary: Harry and Malfoy clear up a few issues one night.

I Hate You I Love

Draco Malfoy knew damned well he shouldn't have been out as late as he was, especially in that muggle town. He had gone what his buddies had called "clubbing," and didn't like one minute of it. He hated muggles by default, so it was pretty hard for him to tolerate being surrounded, touched, rubbed against, stared at, by so many all at once. It was all he could do to not blast them all into oblivion with one spell, but every time he reached into his robes, one of his Slytherin fellows would tell him to just be cool.

Just be cool. Well he was trying. These ugly, scary kids in this seedy place called "Dance Days," seemed to have forgotten the use of air conditioners, as he'd learned about from other Muggle adventures, or at least the concept of leaving a window or two open. He supposed the raw body heat was an attraction, so just sneered as he kept to himself while his friends danced their shame away in the middle of the crowd.

He rolled his eyes when one staggered past him, drunk off his ass, wishing he were anywhere else. It certainly wasn't his idea; he was dragged here by one of the friends who had an insatiable love for muggles. The very idea sickened him, but the worry of what his friends would think if he skipped out on this big night made him go.

But it didn't make him have any fun. Malfoy leaned his head against the wall of the club, trying to ignore the rest of the world in there as the music pounded in his ears. He was thinking very much of someone else...
***

A tall boy with big black glasses shoved his way to the drinks table, pushing dancing muggles out of the way disdainfully. He was really getting sick and tired of this shit, but didn't want to leave Ron. His father had elected to come here, as the perfect muggle study, and brought his son and his best friend along, though quite unwillingly. He was afraid the boys would learn a bit too much of muggle life.

But Harry was over it. It was boring, and he wasn't getting along with anyone there, not even Ron, who was too busy making sure his father wasn't creamed by muggle teenagers to care about him anyway.

So Harry sloshed himself with drinks of the worst kind, making it his mission to get as shit-faced as he could in the shortest amount of time possible. It was starting to feel good because he was really starting to feel terrible, watching the world outside his eyes not keep up when he turned his head, and his chest fill up with something strange. Suddenly, everything was just too hilarious, it hurt to laugh.

He finished his laughing when he watched the muggles dance and frolicking the pits and crash into each other outside of it. It disgusted him, so he drank some more. Seeing Ron let some muggle girls pour a bucket of booze on his head sickened him, so he drank some more. Watching a group of kids jab needles into each other grossed him out and made him drink so much the lady at the alcohol table refused to give him any more.

So he staggered to the exit, but his eye caught on a slim, pretty figure leaving the other way. With a cruel grin, Harry followed.
***

The cool night air felt good on Malfoy's face, and he wanted to stay out here forever. He took in a deep breath, and heard it expelled in a different voice, some distance from where he was standing.

He turned, a little startled, and said, "Who's there?" He ventured a look and then went bug eyed. "Potter?! What the fuck are you doing here?" He thought up some quick insults in his mind as Harry came closer to him.

"I'd ask you the same question, Malfoy," Harry's voice purred lowly as he wrapped his arms around the blonde. "If I gave half a shit." And he smashed his lips with his own and suckled the life out of them. Malfoy writhed in Harry's tight grip, where his hands were squeezing Malfoy's body up and down. His fingernails dug holes into Malfoy's shirt, so they could bite away at his delicate, pale skin underneath, and then drag down, leaving tiny, beautiful rivers of blood to shine in the pale moonlight.

Malfoy pulled away roughly. "Potter! What are you doing?!" He gripped the railing behind him tightly, his knuckles glowing white from the star and moonlight, and the pale light from the dance club shone on his delicate face, making Harry lick his lips hungrily.

Malfoy threw his hands to his body to wipe up the blood, and made a face. "You fucking sicko!"

Harry only laughed while he reached for the blonde's nape and pulled him closer. "Have you noticed just how beautiful your blood looks on your skin in the middle of the night, Malfoy?" Harry whispered in Malfoy's ear.

Malfoy pulled away. "That's a little specific, don't you say?" he growled as he dodged Harry's drunken arm reaching for him. He took flight, but didn't stray too far.

For the few short moments before Harry reached him, Malfoy picked up the little bits of blood with his fingers and looked at it sparkle. As if doing something very wrong, he shifted his eyes around as he shoved it in his mouth and tasted it.

"It's good, isn't it?" Harry's voice pierced through the darkness and made Malfoy jump, accidentally biting his finger. He stared at the icy blood on it, suddenly very scared of what Harry would do. He backed into the wall behind him and hissed, "Get away from me, Potter! I'll tell my dad on you!!"

Harry laughed out loud as he grabbed Malfoy's finger and sucked it. Malfoy leaned his head back as he did this, not making any move to stop him. Harry sneered into his ear, "You stupid git! If you make any mention of something like to your father, he'll want to join in!" He then bit hard on Malfoy's ear. "And you don't want that, now do you?"

Malfoy shook his head weakly as he started to struggle. Harry's right hand was again on Malfoy's neck, and his fingers there tightened. "Don't you move," he said in a thick, drawling, and velvety voice. "Or I'll rip the spinal chord right out of your neck. Don't think I won't." He tugged harder, delighting at Malfoy's desperate whine. "And don't bother trying to scream for help, you bloody whelp, 'cos no one 'ere gives a shit." And he kissed him again, this time biting down on his bottom lip so hard it burst into blood, which he suckled. He dragged one soft finger on Malfoy's lip to spread the blood around Malfoy's face, then dug in a fingernail to make a hole in Malfoy's cheek. And he licked that, laughing and grinning madly at the horrible crying sounds Malfoy was making.

"Mmm, this is so good, you must have a taste!" Harry said as he shoved his bloody finger in Malfoy's mouth. Malfoy kept his eyes squeezed shut as he cracked open his lips to accept that finger, though he didn't want to. It tasted good; it was delicious, but the only expression he was able to show was that of utter disgust.

He sneered through gritted teeth, "It tastes like the mud in your blood, Potter!"

Harry made Malfoy wait a few tortuous seconds before slapping him hard across the cheek. Malfoy sheltered his head with his hands as he scrambled to his feet, but he was already too late. Harry was on him and shoved Malfoy hard on the ground so hard his back felt broken. Then he slammed some handcuffs with razor sharp edges on Malfoy's wrists as he slid his tongue up and down Malfoy's bare chest.

Malfoy squirmed, already feeling a little weak from the blood loss in his wrists. "You fucking pervert, you fucking pervert!" he kept seething at Harry, who was kissing every part of his face. He licked the hot tears welling in Malfoy's eyes.

"I'm the pervert, huh?" he soothed as he stroked Malfoy's hair with bloody fingers so the golden silver was mixed with crimson. "And how about you? Daddy's little boy," he sneered, then laughed horribly. "Mmm, I'd love to be part of that party!" And he licked the hole in Malfoy's cheek, sticking the tip of his tongue through it so he could delight on Malfoy's broken scream.

Malfoy tossed a foot at Harry, but didn't make any headway. With Harry's hand sneaking into his pocket, he said calmly, "You think you are so strong, so great, so perfect, when you're nothing!" He pulled out a Bowie knife and he said, "You are worth nothing, Malfoy, but to be fucked by your disgusting father and thrown to the Dementors. I think that would be a good solution for you, don't you think?" He dangled the knife in the air in front of Malfoy and then let it slide against his throat. "You like to give pain. You think you know true pain, but you don't," he mused aloud, his lips in a terrible grin.

The blonde boy shivered and kept struggling, even though every move made the cuffs cut his wrists more and more. "O, and I suppose you know about pain, then?" Malfoy said with wide, wild eyes. He knew he was going to have to play Harry's game to get out of this, but he would play it by his own rules.

He raised an eyebrow. "What was that?" He pressed the knife to her throat and pricked the skin. "Say that again?"

Malfoy repeated it, louder and more desperate, but not without his touch of challenge.

The light was pale out there, but not pale enough to stop Malfoy from seeing the tears gather in Harry's eyes. "You want to know pain, do you? I'll show you!" And he flipped Malfoy over and undid his and his own pants. Malfoy squeezed his eyes shut, as if there were anything to see then anyway, and listened to Harry's broken, ragged breathing above him. He would have called it crying if he had the chance to listen to it anymore.

Instead, Harry plowed his cock deep inside of Malfoy, making his head reel up and his fingers clench from their cuffs. He let out a long, forced moan as Harry drove in more and more, deeper and harder each time. The hole in his cheek beat with a life of its own for every buck, and spat out some hot, sticky liquid. His hips bucked against Harry's beating, and soon he felt his pelvis was broken.

He listened again when he heard Harry lament above him, his fingers deep in his sides, "You should know all about pain, Malfoy! You have lived to give that to me, it's all you ever want to do to me!" More ragged breathing and broken speech.

Yep, he was definitely crying, as Malfoy deduced from that, and could tell he was also quite drunk. But he had little strength to mock or even fight anymore, so concerned was he to keep his cock from ripping up on the pavement beneath him as Harry pushed on him.

"Fuck you, fuck you!!" Harry moaned as he kept fucking. "I hate you so much, you fucking—" and he kept on with the insults and fitful epithets as he pretty much ripped Malfoy apart.

And soon Malfoy began to enjoy it. The feeling of his bare dick on the cold pavement, scratching it, tantalizing it, while Harry kept indirectly fed it with unspeakable pleasure with every force, and his fingers tight on his body. This all made Malfoy moan and cry out with too many different emotions to count. A puddle of spit was at his mouth, and lots of other fluids were leaking from his head, but he couldn't concentrate on that, not while this gorgeous young man was taking him to Heaven and Hell on the same crowded bus.

They soon came, but even though Harry was first, he still kept fucking Malfoy till he could tell Malfoy had climaxed. Malfoy had little time to analyze this action before Harry spun him around to face him.

"You little Shit-Eater!" Harry hissed and kissed him.

When he pulled away, Malfoy said with his injured lips slowing his speech, "That was really something, Potter. What else did you learn from Hagrid?" and he cackled. He braced himself for another blow, but it didn't come.

Instead, Harry was laughing. "That's a good one, but not as good as this." He grinned and poked the knife into Malfoy's breast to draw his initials, then slid it down to his belly. "It looks good on you," he growled. "But I don't know how on Earth you'll explain that to your father when he checks!" And they both laughed restrained, bitter laughs together.

The fear Harry induced with that red, dripping knife in his scarlet hand was thick enough for Malfoy to feast upon. He captured Harry's lips with his own, expecting, and almost hoping for that knife to bite him again.

It didn't. Not yet. Harry had to put it down to undo Malfoy's handcuffs and kiss him. "You filthy bastard," he groaned as his hand went weak.

Malfoy snatched the knife out of his hand and showed it to him with a sneer, and Harry crumpled to the ground, his eyes sparking with terror. But he had the beginnings of a smile on his lips. "Now it's you who will feel pain," Malfoy said. And Harry sat still as Malfoy cut off his clothes with the knife, and went to suckle on his nipple.

Harry leaned back and put his hand to Malfoy's dick and started rubbing. They both whined as Malfoy sucked and Harry rubbed, but this was not good enough for either of them.

As Malfoy drug the knife against Harry's chest, nicking the nipple, he growled, "You have always been a pretentious son of a bitch since we have the misfortune of meeting, Potter."

Harry shuddered under the knife, making a face. He whispered, "You are just like the Dursley's, you stupid fucker, so mean, so —" he trailed off to utter a primeval sound as Malfoy stabbed deeper and longer. He licked off the blood and then fed some to Harry with his finger. "Mmm, such an asshole, no wonder you have no friends."

Malfoy paused, a look of furious despair befalling his face, with the knife hanging in his fingers. This pause gave Harry the opportunity to snatch it away and slice across the blonde's arm. He grinned at the other's cry, but looked a bit concerned when it sounded a bit more sad than usual. He knew what he said, and how it made his new lover feel, but was not in any mood to say sorry. So, instead, he dropped the knife and pulled Malfoy in for a soft, tender kiss.

"I hate your guts, Malfoy," he said softly. "But Jesus I love you."

Malfoy felt like dying, and let himself fall deep within Harry's embrace. He moaned, "Then let me mark you." And he wrote in his own initials into Harry's chest, and licked them clean.

They took one last deep kiss at each other before pulling away. Harry need to get back to Ron and Malfoy to his friends, but both were glad to take a part of the other with them.
***

When Harry and Malfoy awoke the next morning, they both did pretty much the same things. They got dressed, washed up, then went running back to the bathroom mirror with wide, aching eyes, tore open their shirts, and looked at the barely healing tattoos on their flesh. And they both screamed their heads off.

The End
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I Hate You I Love You