𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐬

choke

FROM 'LUST'
where i will be writing only smut in.

~

Draco watches from afar. He watches with a mischievous glint in his eyes, head slightly lowered, and with his bottom lip tucked in between his teeth, gnawing and nipping at the soft pads of pink flesh. He stares intensely and feverishly at the man who's three tables away. With untamable black hair, and powerful green eyes, and a smile that can swoon any girl in the room, he stares and aches for something he simply cannot obtain.

He wants the man that sits at the gryffindor table, appearance all scruffily and rugged, but nevertheless deeply attractive. Harry holds this nature to him that Draco practically obsesses over, he wants it to be his and only his for the taking. He wishes, oh he wishes every night for the chosen one to just acknowledge him, only even if it is once. Those emerald orbs just need to be stone upon him, thus Draco would feel like the most special boy in the world if that was to happen to him.

That's only the fewest of problems Draco contains with this infatuation with Harry. As his little crush began to grow, so did his dreams and desires. He rarely experimented with others as he wanted Harry to be the one he'd do anything with. On a rare occasion he would slip his mouth onto another, but it never felt enjoyable to kiss another man that wasn't the gryffindor.

Draco craved for attention, for affection, and he longed to be touched. Not just by any hands, but Harry's.

He dreamed of the day he would be able to hold those hands with his own, adoringly play with the fingers and kiss the knuckles one by one, and slip those fingers into his mouth, tasting them, and he dreamed to feel them inside of him, hold him down in place. Those large hands were meant to sweetly caress him, push his hair out of his face, grab his chin sternly, pick him up, and most of all, they belonged to be wrapped around his own pretty little throat.

The tiniest idea of Harry's big, strong hand clasped around his pale neck turned him on to no extent. It immediately made him squirm wherever he was, become horny in seconds. But, he could only get off to the thought of it happening, not the real thing.

It was a shame for Draco, extremely saddening knowing his poor wish would never be granted. He sulked around the halls, curled up in a ball at night, and whenever Harry walked past him, his breathing would become heavier, his pulse quickened, and his heart fluttered against his chest. A deep, ruby blush would scatter across his cheeks, and his tongue became all twisted up, unable to get a single word out.

As he daydreamed about such beautiful things, he only watched Harry laugh and talk amongst his friends, those sinful hands resting against the table and not around his throat like it should be. It was irritating to endure.

The only person he trusted enough to tell about fantasy was Pansy. She promised to keep it between the both of them because Draco just needed someone to rant to about how Harry was being insufferably attractive today, and oh Pansy, he looked at me today, or Pansy, he did that thing where he rubs his jaw with his hand, it was so hot. The usual venting of a hormonal, teenage boy.

The girl sat besides him now, oblivious to his ongoing staring. She ate her lunch in peace, reading today's Daily Prophet that her owl dropped off for her. It wasn't until something that she read caught her eye, and she nudged over at Draco's shoulder, trying to get his attention, but the blond didn't budge. He continued to look at the handsome boy, who's smile was absolutely charming and it made his heart throb.