Good Looks Bad Intentions

I pinned Draco against the wall, keeping him captive as an ardent collector may his most prized butterfly. He did not seem to protest, but I took no chances. One hand pressed him firmly against the wall, while the other was entwined securely in his silken hair. The buttons on his shirt dug into my chest, but I took no notice. My only thought was that I yearned to ravish, to devour him.

So of course, I did not know what to think when Draco pushed me away. My hands immediately dropped from where they had been so desperately clinging mere moments ago.

“Potter—you…,” Draco panted, his face flushed and lips red. “…are—a sodding – bastard—,”
And with that he pulled me towards him again, his lips finding mine.

It was too much; I was overwhelmed, and I wanted at the same time to push him away and hug him closer. Yet instead of doing either, I attempted to stand perfectly still, in case the tiniest movement would make Draco realize what he was doing, or, more importantly, to whom.

Draco mumbled between kisses, but they were not the gentle murmurs that one might have expected. Actually, they were quite vicious.

“You are – such – a – bloody – wanker –,” he managed to get out, tilting my chin so he could kiss me better. I grinned despite myself. Of course, it would so be like Draco to proclaim his hate for me while also trying to snog me senseless. “I fucking ha– fuck,” he gasped as I moved my lips to his exposed neck and nipped him, none-too-gently, then sucked hard on his skin. “That’d better not leave a mark, Potter…”

When we were both finally exhausted, I untangled myself from Draco’s arms and leaned back against the wall, breathing heavily and trying to get coherent thoughts back into my oxygen-deprived brain.

“And that’s the end of that,” said Draco, looking more disheveled than I had ever seen him in my life. He jabbed a shaking finger at my chest. “I never want to see you again, you hear? Never again.”

“…hunh?”

“I promised myself, Ha—Potter. Never again would I fall for your stupid charms.” He attempted to walk to the exit, but his gait was uncertain and unsteady. He turned to look at me again, and spat on the floor in front of me for emphasis. “Never again.”

Of course, his words might have been more profound if his shirt was not hanging off of his slender shoulders, if there wasn’t a purple bruise forming on his throat, or perhaps, if there wasn’t a distinct bulge in the front of his black trousers. I had to bit my lip to keep from smiling as Draco kicked the bathroom door open and stalked out.

DRACO

I lay on my bed with a pillow over my face, and screamed. Roared, really. I heard somebody pause at the side of my bed, then shuffle away quickly.

What if somebody had walked into the bathroom and seen us? I had certainly been too preoccupied to notice much of anything.

Or, even more horrifying, what if Moaning Myrtle had come back and – oh god.

Why did Potter have to be such a fucking prat?

I roared again, the pillow hardly muffling any sound. Hell, the entire Slytherin House could probably hear me. I threw the pillow, then jumped up from the bed and made my way to the nearest mirror.

Just as I had expected. A dark bruise disfigured my pale neck, much too obvious. I groaned, leaning my head against the smooth surface of the mirror. Of course, Potter would take it upon himself to make sure I never forgot our little snog session. And that the entire world will be able to see its evidence on my skin.

My pretty, smooth, now-not-so-flawless skin.

Still growling, I fumbled for my wand. Now, what was that healing spell again?

I tapped my wand against the bite repeatedly. Nothing happened.

“Fuck me,” I muttered angrily.

---

“Draco Lucius Malfoy, what in the name of Merlin’s fucking fuck pants are you doing in my makeup drawer?!”

“Oh shit Pansy, can you keep it down?” I hissed, turning around quickly and slapping one hand against my neck to hide the bite mark. Of course, it was just my luck that Pansy would barge in.

Pansy stared at me, taking in my unkempt appearance. My shirt was unbuttoned, and my hair hung in my eyes. “Who have you been shagging?”

I rolled my eyes and turned back to the drawer to rifle through her collection of various coloured eye shadow. At least she’d stopped yelling.

“And how the hell did you get into the girl’s dormitory, Draco?” she asked, indignant. I sighed.

“Back when we were still…y’know, dating, you …”

“…Gave the door permission to let you in.” she finished. “Oh, right. Forgot about that. But that still doesn’t explain what you’re doing in here!”

I ignored her and selected a few bottles of foundation from the large assortment. Hopefully they would match my skin tone well enough to… Unexpectedly, Pansy reached over and cautiously lifted my fingers from my throat.

“Hey, stop that!” I slapped her hand away, but in that one moment of distraction she managed to change a glimpse of what I was hiding. Her eyes lit up. I cringed.

“So, Draco, who have you been shagging?” she purred. “You avoided the question…”

I gave her a disgusted look. As if she didn’t know. I unscrewed one of the bottles and dipped my finger into the creamy liquid. How could girls stand having this stuff smeared all over their faces? I dabbed my fingers gingerly on the purple bruise.

“Oh, give me that,” Pansy finally said impatiently, grabbing the bottle from my hands. She dripped some of it on a circular sponge-like pad and applied that to my skin.

“See? Done.” She smiled smugly. I looked into the small mirror she held up. Sure enough, the bruised bite mark was gone. There was a tiny hint of discoloration, but still.

“Now, who is it?” Pansy simpered, flashing me that smile again.

“I think you know the answer already,” I scowled, turning to leave.

“Oh yes, but I want to hear you say it.” How sadistic. I blushed against my will, and tried to open the door and make my escape. The door knob shook, but did not turn.

“Oh fine,” she finally conceded, unlocking the door for me with a flick of her wand. “But the next time you’re having hot sex with Harry Potter in a broom cupboard…”

I blanched.

“…let me take pictures?”

I gave her a disparaging look, then closed the door in her face.