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Ficlet
This is the first drabble that I promised ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
clearly_unable.
The challenge, you ask?
sev/blaise - scars and moonlight.
Hopefully I did all right. Thanks tomonochromal for taking a moment out of her busy schedule to do a quick beta for me. Although I still think it's rather stilted near the end, that's entirely my fault. <3333
Okay. So.
Title: Dreams
Rating: PG-13 (I think)
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Word count: 411
Summary: Severus has dreams about Blaise
Severus still remembers how Blaise looked, spread wantonly on the velvet green of his coverlet, his mouth a perfect O as he gasped and arched into Severus’ hands, firelight casting the room into shifting shadows and gilding Blaise’s scars with gold.
But gold, Severus thinks, is gaudy. Blaise is anything but that, moving with a coltish elegance that will be devastating when he grows out of potential and into himself. The boy is dangerous, and the simple fact that he doesn’t quite realize it only makes Severus want him more.
Severus dreams of Blaise, sometimes, although he will never let the boy know it; he has already allowed him too close as it is. When he dreams, there is moonlight instead of firelight, and Blaise is edged in silver.
It is always then that he loses control.
When Blaise reaches out his arms, Severus can’t help but embrace him—when he moans, Severus can’t resist swallowing the sound, muffling it with lips and tongue and teeth until he’s drunk his fill.
And always, always Blaise is glowing. Dark eyes and messy hair and hard, weeping cock—all his to taste and explore, to follow the light on shining skin with his fingers and tongue, to trace with reverence the marks of those who were before him but never would be again.
Severus wakes up hot and sticky and ashamed each time, hands reaching out to clench tightly in his sheets. But it’s becoming less and less important that Blaise Zabini is only 16 years old. Less important that this will never last, that Blaise is the son of a Death Eater and that Severus is already treading too close to the edge.
And so, secretly, he thinks of dark, liquid eyes and salty skin, and in the sunlight rebuffs the overtures of a boy who is not supposed to want him.
He knows that Blaise will eventually get tired of the chase, that he’ll grow up and grow away. He knows, as he has always known, that what Blaise calls love is not necessarily what he calls love, and in the end Blaise will travel beyond him and never look back. As much as the thought hurts, it is a sort of empty relief. If he holds on long enough, all of this won’t matter anymore, and Severus will be alone.
And Blaise, Blaise will never know that Severus has his own scars and that moonlight does not make him beautiful.
Kasi, I hope you like it. <3
clearly_unable.The challenge, you ask?
sev/blaise - scars and moonlight.
Hopefully I did all right. Thanks to
monochromal for taking a moment out of her busy schedule to do a quick beta for me. Although I still think it's rather stilted near the end, that's entirely my fault. <3333Okay. So.
Title: Dreams
Rating: PG-13 (I think)
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Word count: 411
Summary: Severus has dreams about Blaise
Severus still remembers how Blaise looked, spread wantonly on the velvet green of his coverlet, his mouth a perfect O as he gasped and arched into Severus’ hands, firelight casting the room into shifting shadows and gilding Blaise’s scars with gold.
But gold, Severus thinks, is gaudy. Blaise is anything but that, moving with a coltish elegance that will be devastating when he grows out of potential and into himself. The boy is dangerous, and the simple fact that he doesn’t quite realize it only makes Severus want him more.
Severus dreams of Blaise, sometimes, although he will never let the boy know it; he has already allowed him too close as it is. When he dreams, there is moonlight instead of firelight, and Blaise is edged in silver.
It is always then that he loses control.
When Blaise reaches out his arms, Severus can’t help but embrace him—when he moans, Severus can’t resist swallowing the sound, muffling it with lips and tongue and teeth until he’s drunk his fill.
And always, always Blaise is glowing. Dark eyes and messy hair and hard, weeping cock—all his to taste and explore, to follow the light on shining skin with his fingers and tongue, to trace with reverence the marks of those who were before him but never would be again.
Severus wakes up hot and sticky and ashamed each time, hands reaching out to clench tightly in his sheets. But it’s becoming less and less important that Blaise Zabini is only 16 years old. Less important that this will never last, that Blaise is the son of a Death Eater and that Severus is already treading too close to the edge.
And so, secretly, he thinks of dark, liquid eyes and salty skin, and in the sunlight rebuffs the overtures of a boy who is not supposed to want him.
He knows that Blaise will eventually get tired of the chase, that he’ll grow up and grow away. He knows, as he has always known, that what Blaise calls love is not necessarily what he calls love, and in the end Blaise will travel beyond him and never look back. As much as the thought hurts, it is a sort of empty relief. If he holds on long enough, all of this won’t matter anymore, and Severus will be alone.
And Blaise, Blaise will never know that Severus has his own scars and that moonlight does not make him beautiful.
Kasi, I hope you like it. <3
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