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| Identity |
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| A Work In Progress |
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| Summary |
| This is slash (male/male), you've been warned.
I'm poor, so clearly i dont own the 'Harry potter corp' or it's affiliates.
Prepare for, like, sex and violence and stuff.
Harry and Draco find each other years after graduation, both under glamour, both running from an overbearing reputation and past. What they do when the find out that they're in love (and lust) with each other? Sparks will fly. Also, Russian hookers,Imigration fraud, and loveless marrages (actually thats just the firt chapter)
"Talking"
'Thoughts'
Have Fun
Seriously though, I'm not joking, avert your eye's homophones, i know you're still out there, shoo!! *Raises granny-like handbag at the insufferable gits* Just don’t flame me when you lose all of that wide eyed innocence |
| On with the story... |
| Chapter One: Insomnia and Russian Hookers
Chapter Two: Tiny Blond Know It Alls
Chapter Three: Engorgment Charms And Soulmates
Chapter Four: Picnics And Divorce Papers
Chapter Five: Potions Masters and Addictions
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Oh, and here's the NC-17 stuff i couldn't post on ff.net:
From Chapter 5: Potions Masters and Addictions:
They landed in a heap in the centre of Alex’s bed; correction, their bed. It took Dashel a second to register that both men’s jeans and boxers had landed separately on the floor at the foot of the four-poster.
“Hey, how did you-“ he was cut off swiftly as Alex circled his arm behind him and cupped hold of his bare rear-end, forcing them both to assume a vertical position from the knee up. Dashel understood instantly that this was to increase skin-contact between the two, and pressed forwards, attempting almost to mould them into a singular being.
He raised his gaze and searched the other’s for that look, the one that sent shivers to wrack his body, the one that told him of their shared adoration. As two foreheads flattened against each other, two noses lay side-by-side, and two sets of lips breathed in the same fumes of heat; Lexie and Dash -as they were for the time, looked through the half-inch of transparency separating their eyes, and the world stopped.
Dashel couldn’t smother his hunger any longer, as if driven by some unknown animal instinct, he felt his teeth reach forward slightly, and gently close around Alex’s lower lip. The latter jerked his head to the side without breaking this new contact, and reciprocated with equal fervour. He brought his mouth across to where he could feel the start of Dashel’s jawbone, and began to shamelessly lick the area just south of it.
He drew his three innermost fingers up the central depression on Dashel’s chest; when they reached their summit, he slipped his hand around the opposite side of his lover’s neck, so as not to interfere with his mark of ownership. He raked his long fingers into the deep mahogany locks, and pulled Dashel’s head backwards: he wanted to observe his chosen prey more clearly, and couldn’t help but groan when he did.
Sensing this moment of vulnerability, Dash pounced forward and began sucking on Alex’s earlobe.
“So why did you leave our shirts on gorgeous?” he whispered while he was in the proximity.
“So I could do this:” In true OTT style, he grabbed the silk shirt in front of him between two button holes on either side, and yanked the two half’s apart.
“That was Italian!”
“We’ll buy you a new one, now shut up and let me work. You’re mine tonight Dash.”
With that he threw his soulmate back flat onto the bed, and positioned himself, arms straight, on either side of Dashel’s neck; who made to reach up and kidnap his lips again. He shook his head, and began to crawl backwards, down the body beneath him, leaving steaks of saliva all over his arms, hands, neck, torso, and thighs.
He paused in his assault when he came face to face with Dashel’s standing erection. Without moving his head he glanced slyly upward, and smirked, letting the other know that he was about to cause difficulty. He took his two foremost fingers and ran them fleetingly up the underside of his target. When they reached their end, he circled them around the tip, spreading the slight moistness into the surrounding sensitive flesh. He continued this light assail until Dashel was screaming for release: something he could not quite obtain, as whenever he was brought to the brink, Alex retreated.
Just when he thought he would pass out from a combination of the immeasurable pain of such torture, and the overcoming ecstasy, he found himself being flipped over. Kisses rained over his spine descendingly. Alex reached his lover’s admission, spread apart the taught flesh on either side, and ran along it with his tongue. He reached around and cupped Dashel’s gently oozing shaft, caressing it softly, using the collection to drench his new focus.
He put both hands around his weakened partner’s waist, and held him steady, slowly moving deeper into him, to which he received a desperate whimper. He pulled back, almost fully, before advancing again. He sped up, knowing Dashel was close to release, and wanting to join him. Dashel felt both explosions, the one from him, and the one inside of him. Alex collapsed on top of him, both instantly falling into contented slumber.
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Several hours later, Alex Benton woke to find that he was once again standing to attention: a direct response to Dashel deliberately clamping and releasing his muscles.
“Thought that might wake you up”
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