touch // D.M.

three

I could hear Draco mumble something beneath his breath, I could only assume it was something along the lines of 'bloody fucking hell' before he followed suit, leaving his clothes behind, splashing into the lake after me with nothing but his boxers on.

"What the fuck are you doing, Smith? This isn't funny. I don't want to be here and I don't want to be here with you when you look like that."

I stopped swimming, standing up in the water causing it to cover me like a blanket up to my neck. Tears sprang to my eyes, fighting to fall. He was so mean. He was so fucking mean. 'Here with you when you look like that', what the fuck did that even mean?

"Then fucking leave. I didn't ask for you to follow me here, and I'm only high, Draco, I'm not fucking helpless. I know how to swim even if I'm high."

"Smith-"

"No, stop. Don't fucking speak. You're so mean to me for no reason and I'm tired of it," I turned to him now, the anger and pain painted over my face so well you'd have assumed Picasso took a swing at me. "You tear me apart, rip into me for every little thing- every little comment or movement I make and then you kiss me? You make me sob, heave into my legs, shake with anger and pain, and then you fucking kiss me?"

He flinched, he didn't mean to but I saw it. He flinched. His uncrackable armor of boredom and detachment slowly began to crumble at my words.

"You are a piece of shit, Malfoy," another flinch, "and I'm so fucking tired of-"

He rushed me, pulling my body aggressively towards him- so unlike Cedric's touch from earlier today. Cedric's touch was full of carefully placed movements and pauses for consent whereas Draco's was urgent. It was demanding and unrelenting. It was selfish and starving.

He gripped my arms and pulled me so close to him that once he leaned down to look at me in the eyes, our lips ghosted over each other. I took him in, unable to fight my brain's urge to lap up any image of him I could get.

The water hit just under his pectorals and his hair was pushed back. His face had a scowl but it didn't scare me. I tried to ignore his body, looking at it so bare made heat pool between my legs and a soft pulsating sensation accompany the simmering blaze so I stuck to his face but the didn't necessarily deter the fire blooming within me either. I looked at him, looked into his gray eyes- all steel gates and hard metal walls built up to hide whatever lay behind them, and trailed down to his pointy nose that seemed to have squared off over the summer- did it actually or was it just my perception of him? I looked at his high cheekbones, hollowing out his face, and my eyes traced his skin until they found his jaw. Had his jaw always been so crisp and prominent? It couldn't have been. I surely would've noticed, I surely would've had this burning heat between my legs a lot sooner had it always been so noticeable. My eyes made their way back up to those fucking cheekbones. So high and scattered with the lightest possible freckles you could imagine. They were barely there, unable to be seen unless you were... this close.

"You're so fucking beautiful," I muttered, forgetting I was angry at him and currently being held hostage.

Instantly I regretted the words as I came back to the moment, the weed finally wearing off as the cold water began to beckon my sober mind forward. "Fuck, I didn't-"

His lips crashed into mine, he brought me closer, wrapping his long arms around my body as if to shield me from the world. His kisses were rough and hard, unapologetic, and full of anger. His tongue pushed past my lips, demanding entrance as he deepened our kiss. His tongue scoured my mouth as if needing to memorize the layout so he could create a detailed map after our encounter for future use. His hands made their way to my hair and he tangled his long slim fingers in them, pulling me closer although it was physically impossible to get any closer than we already were.