Violets (A Drarry FanFiction - Roses are Red, Violets are Blue Part 2)

Chapter Eleven

   Harry watched as Draco disappeared back out into the living room, then exhaled quickly, rubbing his eyes under his glasses and shaking just a little where a stood. This was fine, this was good! This was exactly what he wanted. But still, it was brand new, and his nerves were rattled; he was promising his obedience to another human being, so they could do whatever they wanted with him.

In the fraction of a second it had taken for these thoughts to filter through, he forced himself to relax again. This wasn't just anybody, this was Draco. And he was doing this to prove that he felt safe, that he trusted him wholly and completely. What was the point if that wasn't true?

Draco came back into the room, holding his iPod that Harry had bought him for his birthday, unwinding the headphones, pulling them out of the socket and glancing cautiously at Harry. He hadn't been sure about buying him the magically modified music player, Draco didn't seem massively keen on Muggle music after all. But having been introduced to the basic concept, and shown where and how he could listen to and upload new music, Draco had become obsessed, insatiable. His music collection had probably surpassed Harry's own in the few months he'd been able to work on it.

Draco placed his player in the docking station that was common in every room of their suite. Their magical presence was weak, so it didn't interfere with the electrics and Draco was able to get the music playing without any trouble.

An electric guitar bass, funky and sultry, began to drift over the room. Not so loud it would disturb the neighbours (even without Harry's silencing charms), but loud enough to seep through Harry's skin and soak him with reassurance. "Playlist?" he asked as the drums kicked in, knowing how Draco liked to clump his music together in emotive spurts.

"Yeah," he said shyly, picking up his G'n'T for a sip and giving Harry half a smile. "They're songs that remind me of fucking you. I haven't had a chance to listen to them in quite a while."

Harry felt like his bones had gone to jelly. Well, he wanted Draco in charge, he was doing a pretty stand up job of it so far.

"We should probably have a safe word," he said, trying to be sensible as he thought back to his one or two other experiences like this.

"Safe word?" Draco repeated, taking another mouthful of his gin and tonic. He rested the edge of the glass of his bottom lip and Harry almost groaned audibly at what that made his insides do.

He nodded. "In case one of us feels out of our depth, we can say it, and the other knows to snap out of whatever is happening. It's part of the trust thing."

Draco eyed him, something almost feral in his gaze. "You've done this before," he said, his pitch hitting something very low in Harry indeed.

"Once or twice," Harry admitted. It had been fun, but it had been with strangers. What he and Draco were proposing made those memories pale in comparison.

Draco was looking at him thoughtfully, and he darted his tongue out to wet his lips before taking another sip. "How about 'Violets'?" he asked.

Harry hadn't been entirely sure about covering the suite in flowers – Draco had teased him mercilessly about that last time after all. But in that moment he was very glad that he had. He thought maybe Draco understood exactly what he'd been trying to convey by picking the other flower from that irksome rhyme he'd managed to turn into their romantic anthem. "Violets," he repeated with a little nod.

Not sure what else to do, he grabbed his own drink back from the drawers and took a gulp, his heart racing, trying not to let his mind run away with him. A part of him wanted to flip this, he wanted his dominance back, but instead he forced himself to calm and turn to Draco, who had perched on the edge of the enormous king-sized bed.