With Teeth

**I pick things up, I am a collector
And things, well things, they tend to accumulate
I have this net, it drags behind me
It picks up feelings for me to feed upon**

-

Draco knelt down and pulled on the chains attached to the younger man’s neck, forcing him up onto his knees. He stared hard into the eyes of his submissive, seeing the glint of defiance that he so rarely saw in his ‘clients’ these days. He covered his careless smirk of satisfaction by blending it into a sneer he had so patently perfected.

“What do you want tonight, slut.”

“I -“

Before he could go any further than the first word, Draco pulled back his arm and back-handed him sending him crashing down on his side.

“You know the rules, slut. No speaking. I thought you would have gotten that one down by now. Sometimes I wonder if you… want… me to punish you.”

Draco paused tantalizingly on the word ‘want’, and did not fail to notice the spontaneous grin that spread across the other man’s face. He walked around until he faced the figure still lying on the ground. He kicked him suddenly, very forcefully in the stomach, and dismissed the coughing by mumbling derisively the word ‘slut’ once more.

“Get up!”

The figure struggled to his knees, knowing that getting all the way to his feet would be pushing it much too far. Draco stood in front of him once more, slowly pulling apart the fastenings of his leather pants.

“You know the drill, whore.”

The figure on his knees looked up briefly, his gaze met with a quirked eyebrow.

“You’re not doing very well tonight, are you whore…”

The man swallowed and Draco grabbed his hair, slamming the face into his knee.

“Do I need to re-teach you all of the rules?”

The figure had fallen on his side once again, and Draco spit on him. He noticed that the fallen figure’s breath was coming in short pants, and forced himself not to roll his eyes. Tugging on his hair once again, he pulled the figure back into position and held him in place.

“I said, ‘you know the drill, whore’… now suck.”

The figure, already faced with a rather impressive erection, opened his mouth slowly and gently took the length in. Draco was in no mood to play soft, nor did he think the figure on his knees really wanted to either, so he tightened his hold on the hair and forced himself the rest of the way in. His breath hitched as his head hit the back of the man’s throat.

He noticed the bulge in the other man’s crotch and knew he was on the right track, so he pulled out and slapped the man hard never loosening his grip on the hair.

“I said suck!”

This time the figure did as he was told and took in the entire length on his own. Draco had to stop himself from putting a hand on a shoulder to steady himself, but the hand holding the figure’s hair was almost enough to help. He leaned back, and when the figure came forward he snapped his hips further down, smiling at the strangled choking sound.

“Don’t stop,” he growled.

The figure complied and sped up his movements (as well as his breathing). He motions grew more erratic and Draco watched, scrutinizing, his own breath coming in short pants. He felt the tightness and heat pooling in his stomach, spreading. He twitched not sure if he wanted to hold back, but his body decided for him and he let go, his orgasm taking over.

He grabbed the back of the figure’s head and held it still as it thrashed trying to free itself as the last of his spasming subsided.

“Swallow it.”

The figure struggled more, not having the benefit of Draco pulling out yet, but he managed to get most of it down, even though some slipped out and dribbled through the corners of his mouth. When Draco was somewhat satisfied he let go and pulled out, tucking himself away. He lifted a foot, leaning it against the man’s chest, and kicked him away. He heard the thwack as the head hit the floor, but didn’t bother checking. He simply pulled the wand out of his back pocket, and tossed it in the figure’s general direction and walked out the door. He didn’t stop, but as he exited the room he parted with a half hearted,

“Not bad, whore…”
Had he stuck around any longer he would have heard the tell-tale sounds of rustling cloth and slick skin moving against skin.

**


Draco stood in his room in front of the mirror, mentally scoffing at the loud snoring coming from both ends of the room. He always got up early, before anyone else in his dorm. It was a habit his father had managed to drill into him, one of the few Draco actually approved of. He touched up his hair, slicking back each piece carefully. He looked down, adjusting his school robes. It was very important to him to have everything in its place. Once he was sure he had everything perfect he turned and walked deliberately out of the room, down into the common area.

He sat in a commanding armchair by the fire examining a number of large texts, finally settling on a particularly old volume that was seemingly charmed to never let the dust wear off. He flipped through the pages, found what he was looking for, and charmed a quill to take notes for him. He continued like this, studying in silence, until he heard awkward steps on the landing across the room. He didn’t need to look up to know that it was Pansy. Her clumsy attempt at a graceful gait did nothing to pique his interest, save for an internal eye roll at her utter clueless-ness.

“Draco, what are you doing up this early?”

Draco gritted his teeth, but forced himself to stay civil.

“The same thing I do every morning, Pansy.”

Semi-civil.

She was either oblivious, or cunningly insistent, but either way she sat down on the arm of the chair and leaned back, attempting to be enticing but only serving to annoy Draco even more.

“Do you mind, Pansy? I am terribly busy, there are many tests today, and I’d rather like to do well on them.”

Everyone in Slytherin knew Draco’s reputation for keeping his grades up. The only thing keeping him from turning into a Hermione was the fact that he kept a rather balanced approach to everything. He wasn’t out to prove himself to anybody; he had nothing to prove, he was already flawless. He simply wanted to do well, because that’s what Malfoys did.

“But Draco, I-“

Draco only had to look at her, no real emotion playing over his features, for her to shut up and leave him alone.

Draco noticed the common room filling up, and knew that breakfast was soon. He swished his wand packing all of his things away, and stood just as his ‘group’ arrived by his side. He nodded to them in a curt motion, and turned to make his way out and into the hall. Naturally, everyone followed. He couldn’t tell if he was glad of their devotion and obedience, or if he just wanted them to leave him the fuck alone. So he set his face, the marble mask falling into place, and stared straight ahead making his way to the dining hall.


**


Once again Draco sat at the table, surrounded by his ‘friends’, laughing at jokes, supplying snide remarks for others to laugh at, and generally just taking advantage of being the center of attention; the person everyone looks to for what to do next. He looked down at his plate, pushing around the few last dregs of his supper, when a tense hush fell over the table. The air seemed rife with expectation and he looked up, careful not to let anything slip. It was harder than he expected when he saw the cause of the break in conversation.

Harry effing Potter, ‘the-boy-who-lived-to-annoy’, stood staring almost sheepishly down at him, but with a glint of defiance. It definitely piqued Draco’s interest. He quirked an eyebrow to let Potter know that he was listening, but the boy only looked down at his feet, shuffling slightly.

“Potter…?”

Harry looked up nervously, and tugged his lower lip between his teeth. He reached for a strand of hair, twiddling nervously, but then a sudden change took over and he squared his shoulders, levelly staring at Draco.

“Malfoy, my I have a word?”

“It seems you’ve had six.”

The lazy drawl was met with a furrowed brow, followed by a quick glare, immediately replaced with a blank yet approachable gaze.

“I meant alone.”

Draco glanced around his table, taking in the interested expressions.

“Got something you’re afraid to say in front of my friends, Potty?”

Harry clenched his jaw, briefly. Draco just smirked in reply.

“Ah, so it’s that you’re embarrassed to say it.”

A quickly lowered gaze and a faint blush told Draco that he was actually correct in his jibe. He narrowed his eyes curiously at the so called ‘golden boy’, and rose to his feet. Questioning looks hit him from all angles but he only shook his head a fraction of an inch, enough to tell them ‘no’, and simply walked away exiting the great hall.

Harry sensed that he was meant to follow and shook himself from his daze, sprinting after the figure that had already disappeared.


**


“Tell me you’re joking, Potter.”

Upon learning the subject of Harry’s proposed conversation, Draco had led Harry to a special room located down a hallway that opened up just past the Slytherin common room. Of course he didn’t know that Harry already knew about this room, and had visited it (at least just outside of it) many times. He was having enough trouble completely understanding the request Harry had just made of him.

“I’m completely serious, Malfoy. I’ve… heard… that you’ve done this for other people.”

“And where did you… ‘hear’ this?”

Harry faltered, and stumbled over his words before reclaiming his confident mask.

“Where is not important. I’m correct, aren’t I?”

Draco studied the boy, looking him up and down, and decided he must be sincere. Somewhat convinced that he wasn’t ‘outing’ him, or setting him up for some absurd sting operation, he nodded his affirmation.

“You are. But what makes you think I’d extend my… services… to the likes of you?”

“I can pay you, if that’s what you mean. Money isn’t a problem.”

Scorn accompanied the usual sneer held in place on Draco’s lips.

“I’m not a prostitute, Potter. Money will not be included in any deal we make. I do what I do because it’s what I’m here to do, not because I need to.

Harry faltered once again. The façade was becoming harder and harder to hold in place. He was incredibly nervous just standing in front of Malfoy after learning of his night-time activities, let alone talking to him about them and asking him to include him. But he knew this was something he needed. Ever since he saw the look in Draco’s eyes on that first night he knew he needed to be looked at like that.

“I- I’m sorry. I’m just… I don’t know what I’m doing here.”

Draco took in the quickly deflating form of his school yard rival. He truly did look uncomfortable to be there, and yet there he still was.

“Alright…”

Harry snapped to attention, not actually expecting him to agree to this absurd plan.

“What!?”

Draco’s eyes glittered with amusement at the conflict of emotion flitting in Harry’s own irises; the excitement and anticipation at the acceptance, and fear at what was going to happen.

“I said, ‘alright’. But there are a few questions I have to ask before we truly agree to anything.”

Harry just looked back at him, expectantly.

Draco pushed himself gracefully off of the desk on which he was previously perched. He walked around and circled Harry, almost predatorily, examining him from all angles and appreciating most of what he saw. Harry just stood where he was and clasped his hands in front him, his head down. Draco nodded his approval at the posture, making mental notes of body language.

“No matter the question, you must answer truthfully. Do you understand?”

“I understand.”

“What is it that you want from this… arrangement?”

Harry swallowed hard and tried to speak, but nothing came. His throat felt like it had an invisible wall in it; even though he really wanted to answer Draco, he simply did not have the ability.

“Potter?”

“I-I don’t know… This is kind of… new… for me…”

“I see.”

Harry averted his gaze, looking down and away from Malfoy’s piercing stare.

“Well, what do you like?”

Harry simply shrugged, feeling ashamed for his ineptitude.

“We have to set some rules, Potter, if we are going to do this.”

Harry nodded his understanding, but there seemed little he was able to do about it.

“Have you given any thought to what you want me to do for you?”

The heat staining Harry’s throat implied that he certainly had, and Draco smirked at the squirm developing in Harry’s toes.

“Stop fidgeting. I can guess that you don’t like humiliation?”

Harry paused, thinking the concept over. He shrugged once more, but he seemed better able to dialogue with the blonde still circling him.

“I guess…?”

“You guess?”

“Well… no… I don’t think I do…”

“And you seem to take well to directions. You like being told what to do?”

Harry nodded clearly, only after a slight hesitation.

Draco was beginning to get a feel for where Harry was in his mind, even if Harry himself didn’t quite understand it yet. He took in minute detail about Harry’s appearance, and hazarded a guess at,

“Surely you’re not into pain, Potter?”

Harry dropped his gaze, almost ashamed. Draco nodded, an understanding grin spreading.

“And have you decided whether or not you want there to be a… sexual element to our… activities?”

The warm flush tinting Harry’s cheeks burned to an outright crimson, and he could no longer keep his gaze trained in Draco’s general direction let alone look at him, but luckily that was enough of an answer for Draco.

Draco grinned in spite of himself, “To think, the golden boy himself, a bloody pouf.”

Harry swallowed hard in response, not quite comfortable with all the scrutinizing of his character, but he held fast not wanting to waver in front of him.

“And what is our limit?”

“Limit?”

“You said sex… How far?”

“Oh…”

If Draco thought Harry was blushing before, he was quite surprised at the shade he managed at this question. Was eggplant a healthy colour for a human being?

“Um… I- I mean…”

“Oh no… Please tell me you’re joking this time?”

Harry simply kept his focus on the ground at his feet.

“A pouf, but a virgin? And a pervert, how rich…”

Harry glared daggers at the boy before him, “If you don’t think you’re up to it Malfoy, just say so!”

“Oh, no; I’m… up… to it. I just want to make sure you know what you’re getting yourself into.”

“I’ve got an idea,” he mumbled quietly.

“Well, I’ll be honest; my kind of work isn’t gentle. It’s generally not for your kind.”

“My kind?”

“Virgins, Potter…”

“Oh…”

“But we can fix that… That is, if you’re sure you want to agree to this.”

Harry swallowed hard and looked up, meeting Draco’s gaze for the first time. He saw a smoky intensity very close to the one he had been dreaming about for the last few nights. He fought hard to remind himself that this wasn’t exactly normal, or that he shouldn’t expect much. ‘This is Malfoy.’ But he couldn’t let go of the tremendous swelling he felt in his chest when Draco looked him over as he was doing now. He was so used to a vacuous emptiness so painful he almost felt alive in its absence.

His lip trembled, but he managed a slow yet deliberate nod. Draco grinned, nigh wolfishly, and stepped forward closing any distance between their bodies.

“Good. Let’s get this over with now, shall we? I wouldn’t want you to let your nerves get the best of you…”

-

**There are times, plenty of times
I wish I could let it go
But it's time to make me think things
I don't wanna know**