Wax Without a Candle
Draco winced as his sore backside came into contact with the mattress. He bit his lip so as not to cry out and rolled onto his side so he could run his hand through the thick, unruly mane of his lover. He kept his movements soft but persistent, garnering nothing more than a slight noise of contentment. He lowered his mouth next to a tan ear and whispered softly, "Harry?" His hand momentarily stopping as his entire body tensed for what type of response he would receive. If Draco had pleased him tonight then perhaps it would be... loving.
Harry rolled over onto his back, which moved Draco's hand to his forehead before he brought it down, pausing at his lips, and rested it upon his chest. Draco didn't dare move his hand or smile too widely as Harry encouraged him to continue with a small, "Mmm..."
Draco wanted to run his hand over every inch of the muscular chest he could reach but sometimes that annoyed Harry and he didn't want to ruin the raven-haired man's good mood. He bit his lip, trying to think of how to phrase this so that he wouldn't seem to be supporting the idea. He exhaled and said tentatively, "Should I — Should I go?"
Harry turned his face to look at him and his eyes seemed so bright and knowing. He truly was beautiful and he seemed amused by Draco's hesitance as he said perspicaciously, "Do you want to go?"
Draco shook his head frantically for a moment before asserting firmly, "I want to stay with you."
Harry's face frowned in confusion and he seemed curious, "Then why would you ask?" Harry smoothed his hand over Draco's and Draco boldly upturned it so that Harry would lace their fingers together. He did and Draco's heart felt like it might burst.
Draco was trying to think of the best way to phrase his answer, but he really only wanted to concentrate on their linked hands. Harry almost never let them do this, only after a really good fuck would he allow Draco to get this close, or feel this loved. This was how Draco knew the marks, scratches, bruises, aches, and pains were all worth it. Because it got him, fleetingly, into Harry's heart. It didn't matter that he felt like an intruder because, for as long as Harry would allow it, he was complete.
He looked down at Harry's face blissfully when he realized he was still waiting for an answer. He smiled sheepishly and said slowly and submissively, "Sometimes... after, you ask me to leave. I just wanted to do what you'd want."
To Draco's surprise, Harry's confusion only seemed to deepen. He twisted his face and asked incredulously, "Why?"
Draco hunkered down against the bed but didn't try to withdraw his hand from Harry's. He wanted his hand there, he just wanted the rest of his body further away. He hadn't meant to upset Harry and said honestly in a squeaky voice, "I only want you to be happy."
Harry rolled over to him and his eyes were half-lidded with what looked like concern, but Draco figured it was a trick of the low moonlight, which was currently crawling across Harry's bedroom floor. Draco shook his head to himself, he had been fooled too many times before. Harry reached out his free hand and caressed the hair back from Draco's cheek before saying apprehensively, "What about you?"
Draco couldn't understand why Harry cared. What kind of test was this? He didn't know what the right answer was and he was scared all the caring gestures would disappear forever if he answered wrongly. He decided on the truth and hoped it was benign enough that it wouldn't provoke anything, "Making you happy, I don't know, it... well, it makes me happy."
Harry was silent for a long time and his face was impassive. Draco just knew something bad was coming and he scrunched his eyes tight to avoid having to see that serene face become a furious mask of hatred. He gasped when he felt soft lips pressed against his. Harry waited for Draco to fall into the rhythm of kissing him before slipping his tongue inside. It was a short tour before he withdrew and left a lingering kiss on Draco's forehead and whispered, "Go to sleep, Draco."
Harry rolled over, allowing Draco's hand to slip from his as he faced away from him. Draco couldn't help but be a little unhappy that he hadn't earned being held by him tonight but he didn't let it show in his voice when he said, "I love you, Harry."
There wasn't even a grunt of acknowledgment from Harry's side but Draco thought that the silence was better than the usual 'Whatever.' He settled under the covers and considered putting his arm around Harry but decided not to ruin their nice night and shifted over to his side.
~*~
Draco grabbed the shrieking clock from his bedside table and held it tight in his balled fist before he catapulted it toward the wall. He blearily opened his eyes just in time to see the spectacular crash upon impact. Gears, springs, glass, and metal exploded in celebration of its destruction. Draco rubbed his forehead, having a persistently pounding headache from the pathetic and relentless nights of sobbing out all his body's hydration.
He Accioed a hangover potion from the medicine cabinet without sitting up, it having the desired effect on his headaches. The first was off by a few feet and broke against the lamp. In the end, it took him five tries to get one into his hand, unbroken, and he downed it. His magic had been off a lot lately but he was too apathetic to be bothered.
He settled back under the covers, oblivious to the tear streaks over his grime-covered cheeks or his tangled and mussed hair that alerted any onlooker to his desperate need for a shower. It had been weeks since he'd left the bed Snape allowed him, even using a spell to expel his waste. He was either genuinely asleep or feigned it when the Potions Master entered his room and had so far avoided having any sort of interaction with the man.
He simply came and left meals which Draco spelled away, deciding instead to use nourishment potions that he hoped Snape was not aware of. He had lost weight and there were heavy bags under his eyes, attesting to the fact that even though all he did was sleep, it was not restful. His skin was chalky and sagged, not that he cared, or even noticed. Snape, however, did.
He was dozing lightly when the comforter, that was sometimes too heavy and would make him sweat and feel disgusting, not that he'd move it, or was sometimes not heavy enough and would make him shiver and shake as he desperately pulled it tighter around him, was yanked out of his slack grip. His bloodshot eyes wrenched open, the sandman's dust clinging to his eyelashes, as he glared around his room to find Snape standing in the doorway. He was leaning against the frame with a smirk and crossed arms, his wand poking out over his left elbow.
Draco growled and tugged the sheets over him, barely catching the flick of Snape's wand from his peripheral as the curtains shot open, flooding the small room with illumination. Draco raised his lip in revulsion and buried his face in his pillow, meagerly hoping he could suffocate this way and escape Snape's cocky expression, before his pillow was zoomed from him as well.
He sat up and pounded his fists on the mattress like a petulant five-year old. He grumbled but knew that eventually Snape would have gotten tired of his unresponsive routine and would force a conversation. But did it have to be today? "What," he spat dangerously. Maybe he could get out of this if Snape decided he was too obstinate or simply unpleasant to be around.
Snape vanished the sheets that were bunched up around Draco's waist and said in a hard tone, "Get up and shower."
"Why should I?" Draco vaguely thought he had never sounded more spoilt.
Snape must have thought so too because his face took on the countenance of someone who had just tasted something extremely bitter, "If you want to look homeless when you go into work then so be it."
"Work!" Draco all but screamed. What the hell was Snape on about?
"Yes," Snape said vilely and Draco narrowed his eyes. Snape was a cruel, cruel man. "As much as I enjoy you stinking up my sheets and moping around here like the living dead, I think it's time we broke the cycle."
"Severus," Draco whimpered, in a pitiful tone he never would've employed had he not been so utterly pathetic as of late, "Please, Severus, you can't do this. I'm not ready." He hung his head, his eyes downcast, and bit out, "I can't."
Snape charged toward him, his face a mask of intimidating fury. He grabbed Draco's wrist roughly and ground out through angrily clenched teeth, "That is enough! You can, and you will." He forcibly lifted Draco from the bed and shoved him through the bathroom door, snarling just loud enough for Draco to hear, "I will not allow that boy to destroy your will to live."
Draco peeled off clothes that should have been changed ages ago and looked in the repaired mirror, thinking to himself how he should really break it again. He didn't need to see just how far his ribs stuck out, how undesirable he would be to anyone else, how far gone he'd allow himself to become. Moving was a painful process, well, more sore than anything else but he disliked it just the same.
He stepped into the shower and turned on both taps, allowing it to stay at whatever setting it was rather than adjusting it. It was a little hot for his taste but he didn't intend to do much. He closed his eyes and sat cross-legged on the porcelain bottom, letting the water pound down on him.
He wasn't sure how long he sat there before finally reaching up for the soap, followed a few minutes later by shampoo. His hair really was a mess and it took him nearly ten minutes to get it untangled, his hands now covered in thin strands of blonde hair that were cutting off the circulation to his fingers. He must've been in the shower for at least an hour, only fifteen minutes of that spent actually doing anything and yet when he left the bathroom, Snape was standing there, clothes in hand.
Draco grudgingly accepted the clothes, as well as the seriousness they implied. Snape was really going to make him go out. The older man turned to give him privacy as Draco pulled on black slacks and a white t-shirt. Nothing to write home about. Snape turned when Draco cleared his throat and gave him a quick, seemingly approving once over.
"We'll be Apparating there," Snape said simply, "So gather what you want."
"Wait," this was all moving far too quickly for Draco's taste, "Where are we going?"
"To your job," Draco noticed a touch of petulance in Snape's voice and glared at him. Snape rolled his eyes and added, "A friend of mine owns a bakery, I asked her for the favor."
Draco gave Snape a shocked expression as well as an inquisitively perked brow. Snape seemed to ruffle at the silent implication and growled, "She is just a friend, Draco. Now, are you prepared?"
Draco nodded and as Snape put his arms around him to Apparate them, he wiggled his eyebrows and said, "Muggle, then? Doesn't know any better, does she?" The bulging eyes and red face just before they momentarily popped out of existence was worth any punishment he'd get for his cheek.
They Apparated to a small alleyway filled with dumpsters and crates, as well as a mangy looking cat. Snape turned away from him instantly and gave a cough that seemed to be concealing a laugh. He turned back around and tried to school his features into a deadpan expression which made Draco laugh out loud. Snape caught him on the back of his head with a light slap and said, "That's enough out of you."
Draco nodded with a smile and Snape led them across the street to a small, worn bakery on the corner of a dead end street. The shingled roof was slanted and gave the impression that the establishment was slowly giving up and shrinking into nothing. It was unimpressive with its beige and blue peeling paint but Draco figured the appeal was that it seemed to have a touch of home no matter where that happened to be. A sign hung over the front of it, declaring 'Jessie's Pies and Cream,' and Draco lost himself to a fit of giggles, "Do you regularly enjoy Jessie's pies and cream?"
Snape let out a bark of laughter and Draco realized how foolish they must look, two grown men standing outside a bakery with a vaguely dirty sign, laughing their heads off. Draco wiped his eyes and was immediately embarrassed upon seeing the clear windows of the bakery they were standing in front of, meaning anyone could see them. He tugged on Snape's robe to alert him to that fact as well and then wondered why Snape was wearing a robe to meet Muggles.
Snape controlled himself and grabbed the gold handle to the shabbily painted blue door. He yanked and the hinges gave a rusty screech of discontent while a hollow bell sounded their presence. "Classy," Draco quipped as he looked around the badly lit bakery. Everything seemed to be covered in a light film of dust and Draco was beginning to think the establishment had been abandoned when a woman appeared from the recesses of the backroom.
Draco couldn't help but notice that she was beautiful. She was younger than Snape, but older than Draco. She brushed gloriously red hair behind a pale ear and gazed at Draco with green eyes that had only one rival for beauty. She had light freckles over her nose, and was tall and not too thin, not like Draco. She wasn't exactly big breasted but she was incredibly feminine, dressed in an apron, a green sweater that accented her eyes and a floral skirt. She had slender hips and her smile was dazzling when she flashed it at both of them, "Severus, it's good to see you."
Her voice was lilting and lovely to listen to. Snape inclined his head to her, "And you Jessie," He indicated Draco, "This is yournew employee."
"Oh," she brightened and extended a flour-covered hand to him, "You must be Draco, it's very nice to meet you. I'm Jessie, I own this bakery."
Draco was a little disconcerted by her gregariousness but managed to shake her hand and reply, "Nice to meet you, too," without seeming odd.
Jessie turned to speak to Snape while Draco completely ignored them and stared at the floor's pattern of four blank tiles surrounding a smaller tile, which depicted a bird sitting on a flowery branch. It was nauseatingly cute. There were a few small tables that only seated two and the paint on them was so worn that they simply looked like they were a badly striped brown color. The tables had the same bird pictures in the center of them, only magnified, and seemed as if they would collapse should anything too heavy be set upon them. Draco thought the same thing about the chairs.
There were a few hanging pictures of birds and flowers, a bookshelf filled with cook books, and a display case, which was surprisingly filled with tasty, fresh looking sweets. There was a cash register at the end of the bar and you could see a bit into the actual kitchen. Draco was edging closer to the sweets when a man walked out of the kitchen wearing a white undershirt that was dirty with flour and perspiration and an apron, the top half of it folded down.
He seemed to be a native Italian and had an absolutely enviable body, muscular and supple. His hair was a soft brown color that looked like honey and he had the brightest hazel eyes that Draco had ever seen. He had full lips and tanned, golden skin. He ran a hand through his short, messy hair and said in a thick native accent, "Jess, what's this?"
Jessie seemed to have just noticed him and he twisted his hands in his apron to clean them as she waved him over, "Well, Daman, you know Severus and this is Draco. He'll be working here with us."
Daman's eyes flicked over him lingeringly and appreciatively and Draco felt his face heat in a flush. Daman reached his eyes and stuck out his hand. Draco took it easily and Daman caressed his hand with his fingers before releasing it and saying richly, "It's very nice to meet you, Draco."
Draco blushed harder and found himself too tongue-tied to give a proper answer. He decided not to try, knowing he'd only embarrass himself. The resurgence of Jessie's voice forced his eyes up from the floor and she said apologetically, "Listen, Sev, I know I told you he could start today but something came up." She turned to Draco, "Is it okay if you start tomorrow?"
Draco appreciated that she consulted him rather than asking Snape on his behalf and said, "Yeah, tomorrow would be great." She smiled and seemed relieved, she waved a hand, gesturing to the bakery at large and said, "Have something. Anything. On the house. Daman will make you anything you can't find. Sorry this is such a short meet and greet, but I've got to run. I'll see you both tomorrow."
She flashed them another disarming smile before slipping through the bakery door amid their goodbyes. Daman's eyes were on Draco when he asked, "So, what can I make you two?"
There was some residual flirting while Daman made them both his specialty, which turned out to be baklava, a favorite of Draco's. Draco gave him a stuttering goodbye as they left, with Snape goading him, "Daman seems to have taken an interest."
Draco said nothing. What was the point? They both knew. It was too soon.
Snape left to get them dinner so they could have the baklava as a satisfying desert and found Draco lying on the kitchen floor staring at the ceiling. He left his grocery bag on the counter and clipped, "This doesn't look like forward progress," before sighing and settling down next to him in the same position, one hand under his head and the other resting on his chest.
Draco turned his head towards him and perked a blonde brow, "Are you joining me in my backwards progress?" He smiled and said amusedly, "That's practically endorsing it, Sev."
Snape smiled and they both stayed quiet and stared up at the flaking plaster of the dully white ceiling in companionable silence. nape wasn't sure how long they'd laid there when he turned to look at Draco, some color was back in his cheeks and his hair was sleek and shiny again. He exhaled and said softly, "Was it me?"
Draco shook his head and his eyes didn't break from the ceiling when he replied monotonously, "It was me." He sighed, "It was him." He shrugged, "It was us." He turned to Snape and asserted, "We were happy once."
"More like deluded," Snape couldn't help but mutter.
"But happy in our delusions," Draco whispered.
Snape wasn't sure how to argue with that and instead said, "How is it today?"
Draco gave a sad smile to the ceiling, "I'm cracking with the simplest touches, Sev. I was on fire once, and now... there's no flame to sustain me." He stood slowly and it seemed as if he were leaving when he turned back and twitched his lips, his eyes glassy, "I'm nothing but wax without a candle."