Benedictions of Possession
by Fearless Diva

 

Writer's Commentary

This is the hardest commentary I've done, I think. It's one thing to write about sex in the context of the characters and the scene, but then talking about it is surprisingly embarrassing for me. But that's kind of stupid, since obviously I wasn't embarrassed to write it, and I promised I would do the commentary, so here it is.

Draco called for the carriage at the Manor gates so they could kiss and touch each other all the way down the drive, and they had shrugged out of their Muggle coats before they even got in the front door. They dropped their coats in the hallway and began undressing each other as they fumbled up the grand staircase toward the bedroom.

Obviously, this is sort of an outtake from "Seeing The Light". That story's narrative arc was complete when Harry and Draco made up after their fight, and adding this scene in would have thrown the pacing off tremendously. But I thought the question of how the damaged Harry handled his jealousy and the fear of nearly losing Draco was an interesting one. And if I remember correctly, a couple of people may have expressed some disappointment that there wasn't more sex in STL. As I said in my commentary on "The Language of Baked Goods", I don't believe in throwing sex scenes in just for the sake of having them, but I felt that the way the sex played out in this particular instance would say a lot about Harry and Draco's relationship, their issues, how damaged they both were, and how they cope with Harry's dark side. So that's why I went ahead and wrote this coda, as a separate, free-standing story. And it's also why the scene doesn't end with the first section, but continues on to the "morning after" aspects of dealing with what's happened, because that's just as important as the sex.

Draco pushed Harry's leather jacket off his shoulders and tossed it onto the stairs. Harry untied Draco's tie but left it looped around his neck. He unbuttoned Draco's shirt as he murmured between voracious kisses, "Mine, you're mine."

At the top of the stairs they stumbled across the hall, their combined weight slamming Draco's shoulder into the wall but he couldn't feel it. All he felt were Harry's lips and hands on him, seemingly everywhere, the feel of Harry's skin under his own fingers, and Harry's breath in his ear whispering benedictions of possession.

I'm still not completely sold on this as the name for this story. I think it's a little pretentious. But I couldn't think of anything better.

They groped their way into the bedroom, and Harry pushed Draco back onto the big, curtained, four-poster bed, his lips never leaving Draco's. He removed Draco's jacket and unbuttoned shirt all in one go, leaving the garments still inside each other, discarded on the bedroom floor like a snakeskin. He pressed him further back onto the bed, and then started nipping his way down Draco's neck. Draco lay there breathless and panting, arching into the little bites, his hands roaming over Harry in an attempt to get his shirt off without changing positions.

If you're going to write a sex scene, I think it's important to take your time and give detailed descriptions. Not to provide a Dickinsian description of every single item in the room, but to give lots of information about the things that are important. Figuring out what's important is always the tricky part, of course. Actually, that's probably the hardest part of writing, figuring out what's important and what needs to be included and what should not.

"I'm going to show you just how mine you are," Harry growled into Draco's ear, and sparks of lightning shot along Draco's spine. Harry reached up and untied one of the lengths of silk used to hold back the cream linen curtains of the bed. He caught Draco's wrists with both his hands and lifted them none-too-gently over Draco's head and tied them both to the bedpost tightly.

Draco moaned quietly and tilted his hips into Harry's as Harry tightened the knots, trying to gather more delicious friction. He couldn't seem to hold himself still, though a couple of experimental tugs at his bonds proved his hands at least weren't going anywhere.

"You're such a pushy bottom," Harry's voice rumbled in his ear. "Don't make me tie your ankles, too."

"I love it when you take charge."

Draco's not quite getting it yet. He thinks Harry's mostly playing at this point.

"You shouldn't. You should be afraid of what I'm going to do to you for forgetting that you belong to me. For letting Eliot put his hands on you and whisper in your ear."

Draco shivered and forced his hips back down into the mattress. Harry's voice had never sounded so menacing, nor his power filled the room quite so tangibly before. "I thought you didn't want me," Draco answered.

"Always want you. Always want you, Draco. Forever." Harry kissed him again, his tongue meeting Draco's in a fierce dance, while his hands slipped down to Draco's trousers and undid the fly. Harry stopped kissing to pull the trousers and the black cotton boxers beneath off and cast them aside. He removed each sock, leaving Draco completely naked, then sat back to admire his handiwork.

"God, you're so beautiful. All ivory and silver and sharp angles. And so hard for me. Only for me. I swear I'll kill Eliot if he so much as looks at you again. I'll kill anyone who ever lays a hand on you." Harry began to quickly disrobe, staring at Draco naked and tied before him with a furious hunger. His curse-green eyes were dark reflections in the dim light of the room, but Draco could see all the swirling emotion in them. He could see the passion, the jealousy, the anger, the true darkness, and he realized that Harry wasn't completely in control of himself anymore. Draco was trussed up and helpless, and even if his wand hadn't been buried in a pile of cloth on the floor, it was likely he wouldn't have been able to defend himself against Harry anyway. He thought he trusted Harry, even lost in the throes of his darkest impulses, but he couldn't help but be a little bit afraid.

Harry chuckled. "Now you're starting to see what's going on. A little late, though, isn't it love? Those aren't the razor instincts I've come to expect from you. What happens if I'm not as trustworthy as you hope?"

Draco couldn't shrug with his arms held above his head, but he arched an eyebrow. "Then I'll be hurt, and if you decide not to kill me I will have learned a valuable lesson." The adrenaline surge that thought provoked did nothing to diminish his desire, however. His skin was aching to be touched, but he forced himself to lie still and wait.

The damage done to Harry by the dark arts and his life experiences is pretty obvious. But Draco's also profoundly damaged, and I intended that his response to this situation be evidence of that damage. He spent so much time deeply afraid that fear doesn't touch him in the same way it would a normal person. And so many of his experiences as a Death Eater mixed sexuality and pleasure with pain and fear that it's all twined together for him.

In his relationship with Harry, Draco's basically replaying Severus' relationship with Lucius; he's fallen in love with a very powerful wizard who has the potential to slide into a dangerous psychosis. Subconsciously he's trying to solve the problem of Lucius repeating the circumstance and giving it a different ending. Harry's dark side is familiar and almost comforting to him in a weird way.

Sev, by the way, is completely aware that this is part of what's going on the Harry/Draco relationship and feels a little guilty about it. Maybe if he'd not stayed so long with Lucius and put up with so much craziness, and been so crazy himself, Draco wouldn't have these issues to work through. But, of course, they NEVER talk about it.

Harry licked the side of Draco's neck in a long stroke, and Draco's hips bucked up of their own accord. "I wouldn't kill you, darling. I might keep you tied to the bed for a few weeks. I might hurt you a little. But I'm counting on you staying alive for a long, long time."

"That's comforting," Draco breathed as Harry began licking his way down Draco's body. "You -" Words suddenly abandoned him as Harry took him into his mouth. Harry's tongue was doing incredible things to him. Every square inch of his body was running hot and cold and tingly. He moaned and his wrists strained against the bindings as he pushed farther into Harry's mouth. Harry pinned his hips down brutally with his hands, and Draco knew he'd have oval bruises there in the morning but it only heightened the sensations running through him. He had to calm down or it would all be over, but Harry was relentless.

"Oh," he heard himself saying. "Harry, you have to stop. I'm -"

Harry took him all the way into his throat, and Draco began writhing underneath him, all language gone, just incoherent noise issuing forth, until the dancing lights gathered behind his eyelids and he came violently, repeatedly, into Harry's eager mouth.

Draco sank back into the down bedcovering as Harry licked his lips and then began biting his way up Draco's torso, hard, leaving marks. Draco's over-stimulated body jumped each time. "Harry, it's too much. Stop, give me a moment -"

"Not stopping," he growled as he continued to leave a trail of burgundy-purple bruises up Draco's thin, pale skin. Draco's slowing heart skipped a couple of beats as he realized that his requests meant nothing to Harry at this point. Draco really was at his lover's mercy. This was just the beginning of the evening and there was no telling how extreme Harry's desires might prove before he came back to his senses. Draco's fear was powering his responses, though, and suddenly the bites were less uncomfortable than they had been. He supposed he could thank his experiences as a Death Eater for the fact that fear and sex were woven into his nervous system in the same way.

Before now, Harry hasn't really done anything questionable. Draco's been completely consenting to this point. But now, he's crossed the line, and there's no question in my mind that this is fucked up. I'm certainly not presenting this situation or their relationship as healthy or okay in any way. It's completely wrong that Harry does this to Draco, and that Draco would just let him. But, you know, that's how people are.

He groaned as Harry reached his neck and began sucking gently but insistently at the pulse point, calling all the blood to the surface. "You're mine, Draco," Harry purred into his ear. "I claim you. For everyone to know and everyone to see. Only mine."

Draco's cock was twitching with every word, and there was some part of him that was deeply satisfied to be only Harry's, to surrender to Harry and let him do whatever he wanted no matter how frightening it might be. His blood sang under Harry's tongue, a warm song of belonging, of being wanted, of being needed. He'd never felt so wholly desired, not just for his body but for who he was. He'd never felt so known and yet so wanted.

Again, with the working out of childhood issues. Draco couldn't trust Lucius with his life, but he trusts Harry, and Harry does prove himself worthy of that trust in the sense that he doesn't do anything to Draco that Draco strenuously objects to, nor does he hurt him. Lucius was also very possessive, particularly of Severus, and it's satisfying on some level to Draco to have Harry demonstrate that same passion of feeling. There's also the issue that Harry is the golden boy of the wizarding world and he also really knows who Draco is. If he wants Draco so desperately, then Draco must be okay. And the stronger the terms in which Harry states his desire for Draco, the better Draco likes it. There was a lot of drama in the Malfoy household, and Draco feels comfortable with operatic scenes.

Having left an acceptable mark at Draco's jugular, Harry kissed Draco breathless, until Draco was hard again. Then he cast a lubrication spell, wandlessly, and whispered into Draco's ear. "I hope you're ready, love, because I am."

The lube and the recent mind-numbing orgasm did a lot to ease the pain of the complete lack of preparation, but it still burned, and Draco hissed in surprise and discomfort. The burning died away quickly, however, to be replaced by an ever-expanding pleasure as Harry's slow strokes began to pick up speed.

Harry was murmuring - endearments, curses, cries to God, some words of snaky hissing that could be Parseltongue. Draco hated the sound of Parseltongue; when the Dark Lord started speaking Parseltongue, seriously unpleasant things had been on the agenda. But Draco didn't bother asking Harry to stop. He knew he wouldn't, and the creeping dread the sounds inspired seemed only to ratchet up the mix of sensations within him until he was meeting Harry's strokes with wild abandon and sobbing nonsense syllables of his own.

When Harry came, he shouted Draco's name, and reached down between them to stroke Draco to completion as he himself continued to shudder. Draco came again almost as soon as Harry touched him. As their spasms faded into a hazy glow, Harry collapsed carefully on top of him, seeming not to mind the sticky mess, and rested his head on Draco's chest.

"Love you," he whispered sleepily. "Love you, Draco."

Let me state again for the record, the above may be sexy (I hope that it is, in fact, because that was my intention) but it's also really screwed up. If your relationship(s) look like this, you need to seek professional help. However, desire and consent and domination are tricky things, never as clearly black and white as we would like them to be. My intention in writing something this psychologically screwed up and trying to make it sexy at the same time is to explore the boundaries of all those things and possibly make the reader think about her/his own reaction at the same time.


Having one's hands bound above one's head is really not the most comfortable position in which to sleep, but having been thoroughly drugged by endorphins and emotionally and physically exhausted, Draco managed to drift off soon after Harry did. He didn't think he'd been asleep more than twenty minutes, though, when he felt Harry stirring and then heard him cursing quietly.

"Jesus God, Draco. Wake up. Are you okay?" Draco could hear the panic in Harry's voice and forced himself to open his eyes. Harry was frantically trying to untie the knots binding Draco's hands to the bedpost. They'd been pulled tight and seemed to be refusing to come free.

I figure since Harry was raised by Muggles, he would use religious profanity - God, Jesus Christ. Hermione does, too, but none of the pureblood folks do. Although I believe that Draco does say God a couple of times in canon.

"Harry. Harry. Calm down. It's all right. Just use your wand and charm them loose."

"Oh, of course. Right." He looked around and Draco could see the panic returning and settling in.
"Where's my wand? I can't find my wand!"

Harry's considerably less calm about his lapse of control than Draco, obviously. For good reason, in my opinion. He's really panicked here. That panic may keep him from turning into Lucius (or worse) in the end, and is really Draco's only hope. Though Draco doesn't quite get that on a conscious level.

"It's probably in your jacket, which is somewhere between the stairs and the front door. You can just use mine if you want. It's somewhere in that pile of clothes there."

Harry dug through Draco's jacket pockets and pulled out Draco's wand. As he held it, the distress on his face smoothed away. "It feels like you," he said quietly.

"Of course, it feels like me. It's my wand. Did you ever pay any attention in class? If you don't mind, my fingers have fallen asleep."

And their relationship is back to normal. Draco's the one more in control again, now, making demands and tossing sharp remarks around. His survival instincts are very good; if he'd done that while Harry was still in The Dark Place, Harry wouldn't have been pleased.

"I'm so sorry." Harry cast the spell to loosen knots, and the fabric untwisted itself and settled at the base of the bedpost.

Draco stretched his arms in different ways and began rubbing the life back into his bruised wrists. Harry looked so wracked with guilt that Draco started laughing. "Well, evidently you're back."

"I am so sorry. So, so sorry."

"My word, Harry, I think you owe me one after the Alley Incident. Which isn't to say that I didn't thoroughly enjoy it. You're very sexy as a sociopath. If you do decide to go all Dark Lord Conqueror of the Universe, you'll have minions by the lorry full."

Harry's pretty face was so filled with shame, it nearly broke Draco's heart. "Hey, there, love. Come here." Harry scooted a bit closer and Draco put his arm around him. "Don't do this to yourself. You didn't hurt me. I had a fantastic time, in fact. It was bloody amazing."

Retroactive consent. The problem is that he wasn't sure at the time that Harry wasn't going to hurt him, or that he would consent to everything that Harry wanted to do. But since he wasn't hurt, Draco's blithely sweeping that issue aside. The situation was just extreme enough to remind him of his traumas, but benign enough that he wasn't hurt or further traumatized. He probably wouldn't be able to cope if his lover wasn't just a little screwed up at least.

"You're covered over in bruises. My God, I can't believe I did all that to you. I can't believe I lost control like that."

"It happens. Having to control yourself so tightly takes some getting used to. Jealousy is evidently a strong stimulus for you, and now we know to be careful of it. But they're mostly love bites, Harry, not real bruises. My skin colours up very easily, you know that."

Such pretty skin.

"You look like you've been in a brawl."

"Harry James Potter! You are not going to sit there and feel guilty over the best sex I ever had. I won't allow it. Now, go find your own wand and you can charm some of the bruising away. Then you and I are going back to sleep for a few hours."

Harry did as he was told, and healed away all of the bruises except for the one in the hollow of Draco's neck, which Draco wouldn't allow him to touch. "A souvenir," he said, "for a few days anyway. I want to remember that you've claimed me."

A tiny spark of possessiveness flitted through Harry's eyes. "Oh, you're mine all right. As long as I can be yours, too."

Draco shivered. "Oh, yes. In fact, after we've had a little nap, perhaps I'll show you just how mine you really are."

This is one of the redeeming aspects of their relationship, and one of the things that makes it sexy for me. They are fully capable of switching roles and frequently do. It isn't always Harry dominating Draco, and it's unusual for him to go so extremely into that dark place and not be able to pull himself out. Draco also has a sadistic streak and enjoys dominating Harry. I don't think Lucius ever gave over control to Severus, though I think Severus sometimes took control, and the fact that he didn't allow Lucius to walk all over him was one of the things that Lucius loved about him. In the end, Harry and Draco's relationship is a more healthy one than Severus and Lucius'. But, you know, that's not saying much. Again, if your relationships look like this, seek professional help immediately.