Passenger

There was blood everywhere. Bad blood that caught the dying sun's last miserable rays. From the ceiling it rained, from the walls it trickled, on the floor it collected and seeped into the wood. Bloodstains that would never be corrupted by age, and remain always pure. They would always stand as a reminder that corruption cannot be it's self corrupted. All of the platinum-blond hair and opulent robes had been burned away in the curse, so that only the bad blood remained to show that there was death in the manor. Recent death, that is, because the manor had always reeked with the butchery and madness that had been such a part of it that it had permeated its very core. This was a house to die in, and many did.

Draco pushed back his blond hair, and shoved his tongue in deeper. He concentrated on the two blue eyes that glimmered even with such little light to reflect. He seethed with anger, and pushed the kiss deeper, harder, as the dim light muted the color in his Ron's scarlet hair. Draco ducked down and almost violently tore the kiss away from Ron's gasping mouth, Ron's outspread lips. Red lips on pale freckled skin. Lips red like the appalling amount of blood that was splattered on the walls and floor of his former home, and the thought made him want to kiss them harder.

In the night the forest cried with the mingling of screeches of pain, shouts of violence, and wails of despair. Tonight moans of pleasure were added to the cacophony of sound, and all resonated within the space of the blue vehicle. The smells of hot new leather, dirt, sweat, and musk hovered and condensed around the two young men as their friction produced more.

They were alive with fear and anger as they raced down the old forgotten roads in the early night. They prayed to the gods they knew, and hoped they'd live through the consequences of their brash actions. They were so overwhelmed with sickening emotions they couldn't register them all. With stoic faces the Brat Prince and his Weasel King raced into dark green lands neither had ever known before. They were baptized in old blood that made them new again. Although, to have been born again was not freedom. It was a new pain to be bourn, if only for a little while. It was exciting, and terrifying, and what they wanted.

Ron's ragged breaths and almighty moans of pleasure tore his throat apart. The heat, the heat was almost suffocating him. Draco, this cherub, this almost a man, who kissed deeper, hit harder, and dug his nails relentlessly into his back took his breath away as surely as the unbearable heat. He needed water, and the moisture of the other man's mouth just barely held him. When a cooler breeze came to his aid, he praised it, as it wiped away his discomfort, and held on tighter. He wanted more of this man who could give only so much. He wanted to give this this angel, who shone only because his darkness sucked in all the light in his surrounding space, everything he lacked. Ron wanted more of this, and soon the whole world would know how much more.

He didn't know what to do, and it was driving him insane. Of all the wrong things they'd ever done before, this was beyond the line of comprehension. Ron felt like he would die if the full terror of their actions that evening truly sunk in. Ron concentrated on the trees, watching them zoom by individually and hypnotize him into believing nothing had happened. The beams of light from the headlights shone onto the road and made the humid air seem gray. At that moment the world could only be described in various hues of gray. The sudden absence of color more than perturbed him, it terrified him. There had been so much color before. There had been so much red. But then, it was that color that made ruin his life before hadn't it? Gods, was he glad to be rid of red.

Draco pulled over in a barely visible clearing long after the road had ended and they'd been driving through the forest. The stars had come out and Orion was there in his celestial body. Minute red reflections of Betelgeuse glimmered in Draco's tears. An ocean of salt water cascaded over the lines of his grimacing face and collected into smaller rivers that fell onto his bloody shirt. Pain and fear wrapped Draco so tightly that if he let out even one sob his chest would collapse and crush his lungs. At last, he released a gust of his breath and sucked in the damp air. He turned to find Ron stiff and seemingly oblivious to the world around him. Seeing Ron in that state broke away the last support of Draco's emotional platform. Draco reached over and wrapped his arms around Ron, frantically trying to wring any kind of reaction out of him.

nice cool seats

there to cushion your knees

The strong arms held Ron weakly at first, then rapidly applying pressure, as if touching him weren't enough and they wanted to push into his body. Ron felt his head drop to the side, and he felt his arousal as a body maneuvered onto his lap, but he seemed to be somewhere else at the moment. The tongue that pressed entry into his mouth barely registered in his mind. The soft kisses and light caresses couldn't bring him from the gray world. Only when Draco's impatience and alarm brought him to start yelling and punching him did Ron realize Draco was still there. Draco was still there. Straddling him as he sat on the front seat, it came back, and all of a sudden the world was in a blue tint and he smelled a new leather scent hanging heavy in the sticky atmosphere.

Draco pushed Ron into the hot abrasive cushions of the back seat. He undid the first three buttons of Ron's shirt with painful haste, nearly ripping them off, but slowed as Ron proceeded to kiss him back slowly. He had to feel the caustic heat of Ron's body before his own body was completely overcome by a rapidly superseding numbness that had crept into his veins. Draco's clothing it's self was torn, bloodied, and lightly sprinkled with the most infinitesimal bits of flesh and a few strands of long platinum-blond hair that were not his own. Ron kissed him back with as much passion, and tore away Draco's filthy shirt just as fast. Draco sucked on Ron's mouth, as if trying to drink back the humanity he lost so recently, and slipped his hands between Ron's muscled back and the abrasive leather seat.

Ron moaned with desire as Draco sucked his neck and nibbled on his jaw. The world had fallen away from him again, but this time he had company and all was as it should be. When Draco's lips touched him, Ron willingly forsook his freedom for the pleasure of the moment. He didn't mind being led astray from the road of righteousness and driven down dirt paths soiled with uncertainty. As long Draco sucked his neck and mouth desperately, Ron could watch the world break apart and smile. As long as Draco drove his hands along the paths and hills of his body he didn't care who saw the grotesque remains of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy. He didn't care who saw Draco and him together, because the only thing that mattered to him was Draco.

Black shadows made by trees flickering in the wind as nimbly and fire, passed over Draco's face and along his lissome frame as he licked and bit Ron's arms. He kissed Ron's hands gently and ran them over his face as he tried to maneuver Ron's tall body into a more comfortable position for himself. He bent his back and tugged Ron towards him several times, siphoning as much of his power and hate as he could into each one to overcome the resistance of the seat. He was rewarded by wails of discomfort from his lover and easier access to Ron's throat, a beautifully sculpted pillar of flesh, and lean defined naked chest for himself. In the ash dark night, he radiated joy. In the midst of heinous atrocities, he exuded happiness. With Ron, he was completely complacent. He embraced the hot air that cloaked him, embraced Ron's narrow abdomen, and embraced the truth. The truth. In the few seconds before his consciousness gave way from exhaustion he realized it was true that he felt as much pleasure and release in slaughtering his parents as he did with Ron. He also realized it was true that it didn't bother him at all

Leo had been Ron's favorite constellation and looking at it always filled him with a purpose, a sense that there was promise in his future, but this moonless night when it shone so brightly he saw nothing but the former glory of a dying space ball. It didn't matter anymore, and it seemed believing in fairy tales of burning cosmic dust was an asinine childish pastime he no longer cared to indulge. He pressed his head up against the padded arm rest in the back seat, his head tilted up so that Leo came directly into view. In between unmerciful kisses and gasps of air Ron almost smiled at what his life had become, and what had happened to the future Leo had once promised. Head Boy and Team Captain had always been seven trillion kilometers away, but Draco was closer than anything else.

When the Magical Law Enforcement Patrol arrived at Malfoy Manor, they never expected to find the repugnant sight of blood drenched walls and burned floors. Lieutenants Carlyle and McKinney were so horror-struck by the sight they could barely stand. Carlyle ran out on shaky legs to inform the Ministry of the macabre scene, while McKinney tried to calm his nervous stomach in the front gardens. Soon the estate was teeming reporters from The Prophet, snapping pictures of butchery and taking notes on the devastation. The newly arrived Aurors balked at the few remnants of the victims, and they were slightly afraid. Whoever did this was ostensibly the most dangerous menace to roam free since the time of Voldemort. It was quickly determined that there were not one, but two killers on the loose, as there were two sets of black footprints discovered leading from the drenched front parlor to a small storage building. Along with footprints there were also hallways smeared with lines of dried blood. Handprints smeared along the way from where the villains steadied themselves as they escaped. To the Aurors it seemed the crime was so debauched even the perpetrators could barely hold it together. Soon enough though, they would be found.

Ron drew in a long breath after Draco passed out and lay back on the seat. Ron knew he shouldn't have let Draco have his way after all of the energy he'd consumed, but now all he could do was let Draco regain some of his strength, he'd surely need it. Even after letting go of his delusions, he was still afraid. There was more uncertainty in his future than he could possibly comprehend, but now it was Draco's responsibility to chose which dirt roads to drive them down, and Ron was happy to be his passenger.