In the Dark

Betas:: brknhalo241, rivendellelf and Mini Mouse.
Warnings: Language, Explicit M/M Sex, Anal, Oral, Rimming, Bondage, Non-con, Dubious-Con, Blood, Addiction. Bottom!Harry.
Notes: Post-DH, No Epilogue (EWE).

First Night

Harry walked down an alley with the smell of fresh blood and alcohol drifting towards him. He wanted to get this over with as quickly as possible. Luckily, it was late enough that there was no one around. The moonlight only provided a vague outline of the body sprawled out in the middle of the alley. Harry didn't want to look, but this was related to his current case. He prepared himself for the worst before he cast Lumos and bent over the body.

The first thing he saw was the copious amount of blood the victim was lying in causing Harry's stomach to clench in protest, but he forced himself to look at the rest of the body. Besides identifying the victim as a wizard because of tailored robes and the distinct smell of Ogdens, he could see a chunk of flesh was missing from the neck. A fatal injury that had so far been the only common factor between the victims. He had hoped by now the killer would have slipped up and left something more useful behind, but no such luck. Harry tried to think of some other connection between the deaths while he stared at the body. His vision swam and then darkened completely.

***

Harry's eyes jerked open as soon as he was awake. He stared up at the blue sky, wisps of clouds scattered and tattered. It took him a minute to realise it was only a charmed ceiling, noticing trim along the edge and the walls attached to it. He tried to sit up to get a better look at the room, but didn't get far before falling back onto the bed.

He growled as he realised that he couldn't move his arms. Something pulled his wrists back, holding him there. Harry jerked his head up to look and noticed his arms stretched up over his head and bound by what only looked like a red cloth. A stark contrast to the white sheets underneath. He cursed when he noticed neither hand could reach the other wrist, and his struggles only revealed his ankles were tied down as well.

Gulping as he looked down, Harry grasped the concept that he was stark naked on a bed, and wondered if this was a dream of some kind. It seemed like a dream in his head, but he yanked against the bindings again and groaned as they dug into his skin. This wasn't a dream. It was too real and painful.

He huffed before lifting his head and looking around the room blurrily, his glasses absent from his face. There was nothing left to do but try and figure out where he was. The bedroom's walls were a rich blue colour, while the furnishings were light coloured wood and soft, creamy white fabrics. A few chairs around a desk and table along with a wardrobe were the only other pieces of furniture in the room other than the bed and a small nightstand. He could tell they were expensive, but not much else. He also spotted two closed doors, but it seemed there was nobody else in the room with him. At least no one he could see. Did they leave him alone? He was tied down after all, but took the opportunity of solitude to try and free himself. After straining, twisting, and yanking his limbs around, Harry realised the effort was futile so he swore in frustration at the empty room.

He lay there for what felt like hours. His body was restless as he waited for something to happen and he watched the sky turn red and then purple and finally to black, stars sparkling in the night. There was the feel of a cold wind then that carried a faint spicy scent, even though Harry saw no windows in the room. The chilled air blew over his naked skin, sending shivers up his spine.

"How does it feel to be helpless, Potter?"

The voice seemed to come from the walls instead of any one place. Harry felt a nagging sensation that he knew that voice as his eyes darted around. "I wouldn't know. Who are you? Why don't you show yourself?"

"Because I enjoy your fear," came the silky reply.

Harry felt his pulse quicken as he tried to force his eyes to see something in the dark. He really didn't like not knowing where the other person in the room was, and he could only feel the bed beneath him and the cloth holding him in place as he listened for any sounds he might hear over the thudding of his own heart. Maybe the person's movements would give him a location. Harry's muscles tensed as if preparing for a blow that he was sure would come at any moment. He swallowed before declaring, "I'm not afraid."

The odd wind seemed to shift again and Harry felt his hair move with it, bringing back with it the unusual smell. He wanted to say that the aroma was completely unfamiliar, but he couldn't. Then the touch of something cold along his jaw. "I can hear your heart beat," the man whispered.

Harry jerked away from the touch knowing his heart couldn't be that loud, and retorted. "I don't believe you."

"Like that surprises me," the voice sneered. Heedless of Harry's attempt to get away, the fingers moved down Harry's neck, cool against warm flesh and he felt himself shiver.

Harry twisted and squirmed as the fingers slid over him, and wondered if he knew the man. At least, he thought the voice sounded like a man, but doubted whoever he was would tell Harry his name. He had ignored the question so far. He would probably just lie or laugh if Harry asked again. Why else would he hide in darkness? The man was probably familiar to Harry or just didn't want to be found after this was over. Then a second hand joined the first, just as cold, and both found Harry's nipples, pinching them hard.

"Fuck," Harry cursed as his back arched. He could feel his nipples harden to the touch even as the pain radiated out from them. "What are you doing?" he gasped, the words coming out faster than he had intended.

His captor didn't answer. Instead, one hand continued downward, teasing the hairs on Harry's belly as those icy fingers stroked his skin.

Heat crept over Harry's face as he realised the hand was going lower and lower. He tried to twist away from those fingers, but the teasing of his hairs tickled slightly and he felt his hips jerk up instead of to the side. He cursed again under his breath as he corrected himself and shifted his hips away from the hand.

"So, Potter's a slut," the voice whispered smugly, one hand holding Harry's hip while those wandering fingers slid through Harry's pubic hair and then along the swelling flesh of his cock.

"I'm not a slut," Harry muttered through a clenched jaw.

Fingers wrapped around his flesh then, moving slowly, squeezing firmly. "Then why this?" the man taunted.

"Fuck you," Harry snapped as he fought to stay still while his body urged him to thrust into that hand. He bit his lower lip and growled. He didn't have an answer and hated the way his body was responding to the cool touch. Harry didn't know who was touching him, yet he was still turned on by it. He swallowed and forced his voice to come out as evenly as possible. "Why are you doing this?"

"Because I can," the man answered. The hand kept pulling on Harry's cock as he felt something like hair softly brushing against his thigh. The hair slid against Harry's balls, while the thumb of the hand on his cock stroked the crown.

Harry gasped and gripped the cloth attached to his wrists. He tried to pull himself away, even as his body shuddered from the light caress of hair against his skin. "Only because I'm tied up. What's wrong? Can't find someone who will let you touch them?"

The man didn't answer verbally, but licked the inside of Harry's thigh, moving upward slowly. Harry moved his legs wider as he unconsciously began allowing more access in response to that tongue. He felt like his body wasn’t his, wasn’t answering his thoughts, only his feelings. He made his legs move as close together as he could make them. "Who's the slut now?" Harry snarled.

"You are," his captor answered. Sharp pain laced up Harry's spine as he felt not a lick this time, but sharp teeth sink into the upper inside of his thigh. He screamed as the unexpected pain coursed through him. A vampire, Harry realised, as a mouth clamped onto his thigh. But why was the vampire stroking his cock? The mix of pain and pleasure brought moans tumbling out of Harry's throat.

He could feel the vampire's mouth sucking him, his blood pumping even as the hand on his cock continued to stroke, moving faster. And the bite ... it still hurt but Harry began to feel a rush like some kind of drug. Pressure built low in Harry's abdomen as the hand sped up, while the sucking only seemed to intensify the sensation and pull the orgasm out of him quicker. That second hand moved then, cupping and rolling Harry's balls. Harry shuddered helplessly as he came, his seed pumping out and covering his stomach as the mouth continued sucking, bringing with it a sensation that made Harry feel like he was flying.

Harry's consciousness faded, going out in a dreamy sort of haze.

***

Harry woke in the morning to find himself still lying on the bed with dried come on his belly. Fortunately, the bindings were gone and he groaned as he sat up. His eyes searched the room. He quickly noticed his glasses placed carefully next to the bed. Harry shoved them on before resuming his examination of the room. It looked like he was alone again, but he wondered how long that would last. How long until the vampire showed up again? Sure the ceiling looked like the sky, but could he tell time by it?

Groaning as he thought about the previous night, Harry looked down at his thigh to see puncture marks. He cursed as he stood up, stalked over to one of the doors and pulled. The door wouldn't budge. He wasn't surprised really, but he still slammed his fist against the wall. He moved over to the other door, hating the notion of having to wait to see what else the vampire would do.

It moved freely only to reveal a bathroom. It was bigger than he expected as he stepped into the centre of the tiled room. In front of him was a white marble bathtub with silver taps and different coloured bottles on the ledge that he assumed were fragrant soaps. The bath looked like it could fit more than just one person in it. He actually didn't think he'd seen a bigger bath outside of Hogwarts. Harry rolled his eyes before turning around and stepping up to the sink next to the toilet to wash up. He left the bathroom quickly afterwards.

This time he noticed a breakfast tray on the table. Harry searched the room, looking for a way out or a weapon to use. He even tried breaking a chair and found they had somehow been charmed not to shatter. He cursed as he stalked around the room, knocking things over. He even threw the food tray to the floor. What was he supposed to do now? Wait for nightfall?

At least this time he wasn't bound to a bed, he thought to himself. Harry paced around and doubted he would be able to trick the vampire into going outside during the day. Setting the room on fire while he was trapped in it wasn't a good idea, either. He didn’t have anything to start a fire with anyway. Harry ran his fingers through his hair. The only other way he knew of killing a vampire was staking him in the heart.

Well, except for a few spells, but he didn't have his wand.

It bothered him that the vampire knew him, but that Harry didn't know who the vampire was. The voice sounded familiar enough that he thought he would recognise the face if he got a glimpse of it. He cursed under his breath doubting that would happen. The voice was more enticing than any he remembered, but he tried to place it anyway. It was like it was hovering at the edge of his memory and every time he reached out, it skittered away. Harry growled as he tipped his head back to study the sky above him.

By the charmed ceiling, he figured it was lunchtime when the dishes and remains of food on the floor disappeared and a new one appeared on the table. Harry's stomach started to rumble. He knew he needed to eat, even if he didn’t trust it. Hungrily grabbing a roll, Harry began to eat it as he walked over to the bed. He didn't feel comfortable walking around naked. It really didn't matter if he was the only one in the room or not. Besides, he would rather not be naked the next time the vampire was around; it made him feel too vulnerable so he wrapped the top sheet from the bed around himself. It was a loose toga of sorts and it wasn't much, but it was something. Harry sighed as he walked back over to the desk and ate some more as he sipped on tea. The second tray disappeared not long after he finished.

Harry wondered how long before he was missed at work. He remembered telling O'Malley where he was going. Would they have looked for him a few hours later or the next day? He hoped they found something when they looked, because right now he didn't know where he was. He didn't have a clue as to how he would get out, either. Harry would guess that he was in someone's house, and probably someone who had some money, but then everything in the room could be stolen. He sighed. The room didn't tell him much. It only reminded him how badly he wanted to leave. Though without magic he was at a loss as to how he could get free. He groaned as he leant back again.

Harry wished he could do something besides sit and wait. He pushed himself away from the table and stood up. Pacing around the room restlessly, he turned sharply on his heels before he walked into anything. He didn't like being trapped in the room. It didn't matter what the room looked like or what it had in it; he was still essentially in a prison. Why would someone do this to him? What would it get them?

He picked up a chair, hurtling it at the wall. It still didn’t break but the act made him feel a little less frustrated. He proceeded to overturn everything in an attempt to take the edge off the anger and desperation he could feel building within him. Harry realised moments later, panting for breath as he studied the effects of his actions, that only left the bed and the floor to sit on. When another tray arrived, it appeared on the floor, bearing supper. The food at lunch had been rather good and he seemed to have a burst of energy afterwards. Harry ate on the floor trying to avoid the bed and everything it reminded him of. He was almost finished when he felt his eyes getting heavy, cursing himself for not thinking about the food being drugged, and slumped backwards as darkness surrounded him.