Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. Period. Simple as that.
Paralyzer
I hold on so nervously
To me and my drink
I wish it was cooling me
But so far has not been good
It's been shitty
And I feel awkward as I should
Draco stared down at his drink. He couldn't turn around. No, he couldn't look back over his shoulder and return that intense stare that he felt. He took a swig of the mudslide and immediately thought of why he'd come here in the first place. One look down the bar was enough to tell anyone that he looked as out of place as a Durmstrang student in Hogwarts. It just wasn't natural.
Of course, neither was dreaming of his arch enemy. Well, okay, it would be more natural if it involved torture of some kind ultimately ending in death. In his dreams, however, the only bondage he used on his enemy was of the kinky, furry kind. As the image rose in his mind, dark, copper skin writhing against green silk that matched his gorgeous green eyes, arms raised overhead, unable to do anything but submit to the pleasurable torture, Draco could feel his body reacting and he quickly shoved that thought away. He'd come to erase the boy from his mind. The fact that the said boy stood by the wall on the other side of the dancers in the center didn't help matters in the least.
He finished his drink in another swallow and motioned for the bartender to make him another one. He'd noticed after returning home one night completely and utterly trashed that he could dream without the boy invading. He'd pay for it in the morning, but one night of restful, undisturbed sleep was worth a thousand hangovers in the morning.
That's the plan he'd had when he'd arrived tonight. As he downed his fourth mudslide and still hadn't felt anything except for the penetrating stare on his back, it wasn't looking good. No, he decided, not good at all.
This club has got to be
The most pretentious thing
Since I thought you and me
Well I am imagining
A dark lit place
For your place on my place
Though the club's slogan promised to let you forget everything down to who you were, Draco was sorely disappointed. He was still too terribly sober and didn't like it. To make matters worse, his mind was wandering back to the boy standing across the way. "Harry," he muttered into his once again empty glass, "why do you do this to me?"
Part of him wanted to storm across that dance floor. Part of him wanted to stay right there in his seat, nursing yet another drink. But, as he spun around on his barstool, he met those terrifying and yet captivating eyes and his breath hitched.
Well I'm not paralyzed
But I seem to be struck by you
I wanna make you move
Because you're standing still
If your body matches
What your eyes can do
You'll probably move right through
Me on my way to you
Those glittering green eyes smiled at him though Harry's face didn't move at all. They glittered in the pulsing lights and though his body wasn't moving, he seemed to be swaying to the music. Or maybe that was just Draco's imagination…or maybe the alcohol finally settling in. He smiled toward Draco, his eyes shining, suggesting dirty thoughts without moving at all. And yet, a beauty like that shouldn't stand still, Draco thought. That lithe body, clothed in tight leather pants and open silk dark green shirt should be pulsing to the music like all the other bodies. He should be grinding against another body, Draco thought, preferably his own.
Draco shook the thought from his mind. But he couldn't quell the thought that he wanted to force that insufferable git to move. But no, he would never dance with Draco, he was too amazing, too special and yet…since when did a Malfoy not get what he wanted? Malfoys always got what they wanted. Always.
But, as he made up his mind to get up and go over to the mischievous boy, he sat back down and turned back to the bar. One more drink first.
I hold out for one more drink
Before I think I'm looking too desperately
But so far has not been fun
I should just stay home
If one thing really means one
This club will hopefully
Be closed in three weeks
That would be cool with me
Well I'm still imagining
A dark lit place
For your place on my place
Draco cursed his cowardice. Why couldn't he just go over there and snatch up that man and claim him for his own? Why couldn't he be the selfish git he'd always been back at Hogwarts? Then he sighed. "Because he's changed you," he muttered into his new drink.
This wasn't working anymore. Drinking didn't help get the boy out of his head. Not anymore. Not since…well…not for awhile. He pushed his drink away from himself. He should have just stayed home. In the arms of his love. Yeah, it would have been time much better spent than sitting here trying to deny-deny what? The fact that he was in love? The fact that he wanted his love more than he wanted to admit? The fact that he was dependant?
He turned around, wishing that the bar would just disappear. That there would be no club and no more alcohol to take him away from his love. He made to get up, but he say him already in the middle of the dance floor, body swaying to the pulsing music, gracefully moving around the other bodies as only a Quidditch player could. Draco smiled, but knew that the man couldn't be coming toward him. No, he just wanted a drink, Draco told himself. And yet, as the man made he way closer, Draco couldn't make himself move, it was like he was paralyzed in his seat by those beautiful, glittering green eyes.
Well I'm not paralyzed
But I seem to be struck by you
I wanna make you move
Because you're standing still
If your body matches
What your eyes can do
The man was staring straight at Draco, and yet, he couldn't possibly be seeing him, he thought. No, he never saw the real person Draco was. He only saw the pompous, egotistical son of Lucius Malfoy, not Draco. Only Malfoy. And, if he was right, the man would walk right past him without so much as a second glance.
You'll probably move right through
Me on my way to you
But the man never dropped his gaze, only continued to stare devilishly in his direction, his face never betraying any emotion at all. Draco shook his head. That look wasn't meant for him, he didn't deserve such a god.
You'll probably move right through
Me on my way to you
And then he was standing right there, gently taking the glass from between his pale fingers. "C'mon love," he murmured, "I think it's time to go home. The alcohol's messing with your mind."
And then he realized it. Through his inhibitted state, he realized that Harry really did see him for who he really was. And loved him for it. Draco nodded before Harry found his lips. "Okay, Harry."
And he couldn't bring himself to move out of his lover's embrace. That was right, the alcohol always did this to him. And yet, he always insisted on drinking. But with Harry's arms gently guiding him out of the club, he felt paralyzed. Paralyzed with love.
AN: Okay, so what do you guys think? It's the second songfic I've ever written. I like it. R&R please!