BETWEEN REVENGE AND LOVE

48

Tuesday 08/10/1995

To fuck in a random bathroom when you're actually supposed to be serving two hours of detention might not be the worst thing in the world.

Maybe not the smartest though. But who cares about that?

His hands grip my thighs securely, my legs hug his middle loosely. Each thrust presses me into the cubicle door, over and over again, causing its hinges to make creaking sounds. Someone needs to oil them.

Not bothering to suppress my moans I watch his face. The look of pleasure on it, his closed eyes, parted lips, how his head is tilted back slightly.

My back arches, causing him to reach deeper. A low groan escapes his throat as he dips down to connect our lips.

He kisses me until I can't breathe and longer. Buries his face in my neck afterwards, and presses kisses onto my skin. 

 A big breath of cold stagnant air sucks into my empty-feeling lungs. Again and again and again. Yelping panting breaths into the silent room. The merest bit of lucidity seeps into my addled head. Only to disappear immediately as his lips find mine again.

I feel dazed, wrapping my arms around his neck to pull him even closer. Closer, closer, the closer the better. Though it's somehow never close enough.

My view is beautiful. The sun hasn't been out in days. Now rays of sunshine caress through his hair, over his pretty face.

My mind is a rather dark place, even now that I'm beginning to lose it. I can't think straight. Still, it won't stop bugging me. It's inevitable, I think. Inevitably and dependably we always end up all over each other. 

It's nothing but a coping mechanism, I reckon. An attempt to shake the seriousness of certain situations, to fight off whatever clogs our minds after our arguments, out of excessive demands. 

I'm sure, a coping mechanism it is. Decidedly not the healthiest one.

I kiss him so hard it could be counted, charged and condemned as a violent attack, as he picks up his pace destroying my self-control without a care.

"Fuck," I whine and it echoes from the tiled walls. Yes, fuck. Fuck he feels so good and fuck I feel so bad. His purposeful dexterous movements have me shaking. 

Suddenly, a slanting, creaking noise rips through the thick tension around us. A noise that isn't ours.

My heart drops as a wave of babbling voices sweeps into the room alongside fits of laughter. Shocked, we're both frozen in our positions. 

"Ouch, you bloody wazzock that hurt!" 

I know that voice, I recognise it. Blaise. Oh please no.  

"Not my fault! Adrian pushed me."

Adrian, Blaise and? Who was that? I need to know. At least it wasn't Theo. No Theo until now.

"Terence," Draco whispers, making my heart sink further two levels. What does he think he's doing? A single sound could have consequences for us, the severity of which I refuse to imagine. If they'll find us here I'm going to die of a heart attack no question.  

Intently we listen to the conversation on the other side of the cubicle door. 

"Drinking contests are crap, never again will I ever participate in one with any of you." Blaise slurs. "That was the worst idea and right before practice too, really, what dumbass thought it'd be fun?" 

"That dumbass happens to have been you, idiot. You brought it up in the first place." 

"That's not true, wasn't my idea, I don't remember it that way."