Songfic Series - Poison

Poison

I spit out a mouth full of blood, careful not to splatter him. It would only earn me another blow across the jaw. Malfoy sneers and trails the tip of his wand across my bare chest. It used to be smooth and well-toned. It is now full of bruises and scars and being immobile for - how long has it been now? Weeks, maybe even months - has caused a definite decrease in muscle tone. And in strength, I find, as Malfoy punches me in the gut.

I try to collapse, but I can't because of my chains, so I have to ride out the waves of pain that spread from my stomach through my entire body. I cough and half-heartedly wonder why I'm not coughing up blood again yet. It wouldn't be the first time Malfoy beats me unconscious, healing me only enough to make sure I live. I think he revels in bringing me pain and the look in his eyes often makes me wonder if he's punishing me for something.

The next blow hits me under the chin and I have to blink several times to dispel the stars that cloud my vision. Malfoy's face comes back into focus. He's grinning evilly, slightly baring his teeth. His eyes are hard, cold, like he isn't really in there. They will stay that way until later, until he feels he's beaten me up enough to touch me.

Your cruel device

He raises his wand again and I brace myself for the next blow. Somehow, he found a spell to recreate the blow of a man's fist and I'm his favourite practice buddy. The blow lands on my left shin and I have to bite my lip to repress a scream.

Apparently, that was the wrong choice to make, because suddenly my entire world consist of only Malfoy. All I see are hard grey eyes, all I hear is the fast paced beating of his heart. He stands so close I can feel his robes brushing against my bare chest as his ribcage expands with each inhaled breath. His hair tickles my cheek as he bends his head forward to whisper in my ear.

"Scream for me, Harry," he demands, then draws back and sends another blow to my right shin. I do as he asks: I scream, hoarse and helpless. Hopeless, because there's no one coming for me. And God help me, I don't want them to.

Your blood, like ice

Malfoy smiles in satisfaction and moves several meters away from me. I arch my back to watch him even though it sends ripples of searing pain across my spine: I know what's coming. Slowly, like he's performing a striptease - and maybe, in some morbid way, he is - Malfoy discards his robes. Then he turns, so I can only see his back. I watch his arms move slightly, slowly travelling down his torso and again, like all the times before, I'm ashamed of the way it makes me feel. I gasp softly as Malfoy's shirt drops to the floor of the dungeon.

His back is covered in scars. Small, jagged lines of raised skin painting a picture of pain on his body. He turns and looks at me. His eyes have changed, like they always do. They're burning, showing an emotion too powerful and too complex to name. It certainly isn't something as simple as anger, but it isn't hate either. And that disturbs me for some reason.

Malfoy slowly lifts his wand again, but this time it's pointing at his own chest. I fight to keep my breath from hitching as he draws it over his heart, reopening the wound I inflicted years ago. I watch, obsessed with the rich, red liquid that trickles down his chest, curls around his abdomen and makes stains on the rim of his trousers.

"You like this Harry? Then take it!" Malfoy commands as he steps in close and pushes my head against his chest. I lap at the wound obediently. There's nothing else I can do and I'm scared to think what I would do, if given the choice. Malfoy's cold to the touch and that only intensifies my fire.

One look could kill

"Lower," Malfoy directs and touches the tip of his wand to the side of my head. I almost whimper. I know what he wants me to do. I refused once and it nearly got me killed.

"If you so much as look up the next time, you're dead," were the last words I heard before I blacked out that time I disobeyed him. Back then, I would've given anything for him to stop. Now, I only pray he will continue. I know it's wrong, but I can't help it.

My pain, your thrill

As always, he doesn't continue. He steps back once I reach the rim of his trousers and laughs coldly as I whimper and try to follow him. My chains rattle as I pull against them, forming a strange melody to accompany Malfoy's chill laughs echoing through the hollow room. After a while I sink back against the wall and fight tears. This is all so wrong.

I want to love you, but I better not touch

I want to hold you, but my senses tell me to stop

I want to kiss you, but I want it too much

I want to taste you, but your lips are venomous poison

What he's doing to me is wrong, but the fact that I actually want him to keep doing it is just plain disgusting. I can't help it though, I've tried, but I can't fight it. It's a good thing I'm in chains: I don't know what I would've done if I wasn't.

It's not that I see a hurt little boy who's lost his way and I want to help. I can see he's hurting, his eyes show it to me every time, but I don't care. I know he's lost, but I don't want to help him find his way. I just want him. I want to be able to touch him, kiss him, but he never lets me.

You're poison running through my veins

You're poison

I don't want to break these chains.

And I can't stop wanting him. At first I hated him for what he did, yes, but after a while it changed. Somehow, I didn't mind anymore and I welcomed the numbness but then I started to like it. Now I long for him, even when he's right in front of me. And I never want him to stop this.

Your mouth, so hot

I'm never allowed to kiss him, but he kisses me. As soon as I show weakness, the moment I'm vulnerable, he's all over me, trailing a burning line of kisses down my neck and over my chest. Making me short of breath, and dizzy, and forgetful of the tears burning at the back of my eyes.

Your web, I'm caught

But he doesn't stop there. He touches me. He touches me in all the places he shouldn't and I want him to. He reduces me to a body burning with desire, no mind to speak of present. I sometimes think this is the entire goal of his game: making my mind disappear, so he can have his way with my body. But if that were true, these visits would end differently.

Your skin, so wet

But it always ends the same. Just like it always plays out more or less similar. That is why I'm not surprised when Malfoy reaches for my trousers and pulls them down, along with my boxers. This is always followed by a ritual I still don't understand the meaning of.

First, Malfoy steps back and just stares at me. He stares at me like he wants to eat me alive. And just when I think he's going to be staring forever, he lunges for me. He pushes himself against me, his hands groping at every part of me he can reach. I love this part, because at this point I can feel his erection against my leg, his chest, now covered in a mad mixture of sweat and blood and saliva, sliding against mine. It is at this moment that I fervently wish I'm never found.

Black lace on sweat

I hate the part that comes right after this though. Malfoy pulls a richly embroidered black handkerchief out of his pocket, still pushing up against me. He trails this over my face, teasing, his lips pursed in contempt. Then he blindfolds himself - not me, but himself - and slides down across my body. I've begged him to take it off so I can see his face, but he only laughed coldly at that. Malfoy grabs hold of me and I can't help the moan that escapes my lips, even if I hate the blindfold.

I hear you calling and it's needles and pins

I want to hurt you just to hear you screaming my name

Don't want to touch you but you're under my skin

I want to kiss you but your lips are venomous poison.

As he sets about bringing me off with his mouth, I can't help but feel he's apologizing for something. It's always the same. First I feel like I'm being punished, then I feel like he's apologizing for something he'll never be able to make up for. And, like all the times he did this before, I don't understand. In some morphed, distorted way, it hurts that I don't understand.

But it's wonderful too. I scream his name when I come, I scream his given name, like I always do. And as I come down from this twisted high, I wish I could do the same to him. I wish I could hurt him in the way that will make him scream my name. He speaks it in commanding and demanding tones, yes. But he's never once screamed it.

He knows exactly what he's doing to me. He revels in the power he has over me, the pain and confusion he's causing me. I know, because when I finally catch my breath, he's right in front of me, but just out of reach. He teases me, when my entire body is burning to touch him, to kiss him.

You're poison running trough my veins

You're poison

I don't want to break these chains

And I hate it. I hate him. I hate him, but I want him and I can't get rid of him. And I know this is wrong, completely wrong, but I don't want him to stop. He watches the hate and want play across my eyes and smiles cruelly.

I know what happens next. He'll release me from my chains, but he won't trust me not to hurt him. Which is logical, but hurts nonetheless. So with a wand pointed at my chest and an Aveda Kedavra on Malfoy's lips, I do as I'm told and lay on the wooden board that's supposed to be my bed. Malfoy puts me in a full body bind and checks my injuries.

Just before he stands up, he whispers in my ear. Always the same question, always the same cruel tone: "How do you feel, Harry?"

And I can never answer, because he's long gone when the body bind wears off.