Take a Picture of Me, Harry
By: Aria DC al Fine
Disclaimer: Not mine
Warning: M-rated Scene. Email me or send me a message to get it.
Nearly a month had passed. Harry and Draco had had many more photo sessions here and there, under the stars or under the rain or at the beach or on a busy street in the centre of the city, either planned or spurred in instances by Draco's sudden breathtaking expressions, and now, the blonde was so used to seeing the green-eyed man raising his camera at him he didn't need a long time to convince himself that he was in love with Harry through the lens anymore. The photographer just had to raise the muggle contraption at the blonde, and a second or two later, Draco would be smiling softly at him, happiness and love shining through his grey orbs, producing the most beautiful photos on earth.
Today, Harry decided to do the photo session in his studio. It was rare but not that seldom, because the ex-Gryffindor noticed that Draco seemed more free when he was outside, especially so in nature. But they eventually ran out of potential natural scenes, anyway, and autumn, with its pretty gold and red coloured falling leaves, was not yet to come, so Harry had to take it inside.
The studio was decorated with gentle coloured cushions, sashes and big mattresses which were placed side by side and covered by cream-coloured cotton bed sheets, soft lighting draping over everything. The blonde himself was sitting in the middle of the joint mattresses, dressed in a long-sleeved lighter cream-coloured silk shirt, top three buttons open, and a pair of loose slacks in the same colour as the shirt. He was looking absently at the pillows. Harry, who was setting his camera, glanced at his model and sighed. Draco looked like the most innocent angel ever.
Soon enough, Harry finished the setting, and raised the camera. "Same instructions, Draco. You know what to do. Don't feel confined in the room, or nervous, since you're going to be looking at my direction coincidentally more often. Try every look: sad, lonely, content, happy, lazy, any expression you can think of, but the most important thing is, you mustn't forget, that there must be love laden in every one of them. Are you ready?"
The model responded by grabbing the nearest cushion and hugged it in his arms, his face settling to a heartbreaking loneliness that gave the impression that he was waiting, alone, for the person he loves, to come back to him, the hurt, the pain, the fear that his lover wasn't returning to him, all evident in his grey eyes.
Harry ignored the ache in his heart and took a snap of the picture.
Draco was always trying his hardest to show any emotion perfectly. He hugged his bent legs and laid the side of his head on his kneecaps, his eyes looking despondently at an empty corner at the room, eyes radiating pure sorrow, face scrunching slightly as if he was going to cry, in which Harry took a photo of after once again, ignoring the ache in his heart, before the blonde changed his expression to another.
It was harder to show emotions in a studio, because there was nothing to spur that sentiment personally, like the beauty of a freshly blooming morning glory, or the broken form of a dead bird. To be able to really show the emotions, Draco had to search deep within his memories and responded to it, like his fear of Lucius and the Dark Lord, the sadness he felt at the revelation of Narcissa's death, or put himself in a 'what if' situations where Harry left him cold and alone forever. Draco gripped his arms unconsciously and scrunched his face even more, tears really falling out of his eyes. No…he cried silently and reached out with one hand, his face falling even more when he grasped at thin air. Don't leave me…
The blonde cried some more, and Harry wiped his tears and let him be until he recovered from his intense trance. Then, the two of them proceeded.
In the confinement of the studio that day, Draco practically attempted to show almost every emotion that exists on earth. He showed happiness and excitement by bouncing off the mattress and dancing around the bed. He showed contentment by snuggling to a big cushion, his eyes half closed with laziness, a soft smile curling on his pale thin lips. He even slept innocently like an angel, his body settling comfortably against a cushion, before Harry had to literally wake him up. He showed anger and hatred by punching the pillows and messing the sashes around, his grey irises flashing silver with fiery furies. He showed fear by bending to a fetal position of a ball, making himself look as small as possible against the wall, his eyes looking frightfully at an imaginary bogeyman, a memory of the Dark Lord, probably. And so on. And so on.
Almost an hour later, Draco was playing with the sashes, running to let them trail behind his body and twirling around with it. When he caught sight of Harry and his camera, he smiled joyfully and invitingly at the photographer, leaving Harry breathless and needing.
The person I love is watching me Draco said to himself, his heart beating so fast it almost burst with the love he felt at the man behind the camera Harry is watching me. He moved closer to the black-haired man unconsciously and stretched out his hands, his loving expression begging Harry to take his stretched hands. Love me too, Harry, love me!
Before Draco even knew it, he had already gotten so close to Harry and placed both hands on the ex-Gryffindor's shoulders. Fascinated at the intense expression on his blonde model's face, Harry couldn't help but lower his camera down, away from his face, and before he could say anything, Draco leaned forward and caught his lips in a kiss.
Harry froze. He couldn't move at all. His mind was telling him that probably Draco had got carried away by the love he had to feel to Harry through the camera and that he should push the other man away before they both regretted it, but when the blonde started moving his lips against his, all rational thoughts went out of the window and fell splat on the road twenty-five storey below. The photographer dropped his camera, which fell to a big cushion nearby with a soft thud and rolled until its lens was facing the two men upside down, the button accidentally pressed against the pillow and clicked away repeatedly, taking pictures of Harry and Draco, who were engaging themselves in an intimate situation.
As soon as the camera fell down, Draco moved closer to Harry and wrapped his arms around the taller man's neck, standing on his toes to press open-mouthed kisses against the other man's slightly chapped lips. Harry deepened the kiss by nibbling Draco's lower lip before slipping his tongue into the blonde's mouth, his arms wrapping themselves around the blonde's slim waist.
Draco moaned. All his life, he had never felt something as strong as this. Don't get him wrong, he had had sex. With girls, nevertheless, but never, in the world, had his heart ached and his body craved for the other's touch as madly as this. I love him and he loves me he thought as he slipped his tongue to Harry's mouth. Gods, I love you Harry…
They continued to kiss passionately as if there was no tomorrow, tongues dancing fierily with each other, before Draco sucked Harry's tongue and moved his lips to trail wet kisses along his jaw prior to nibbling on a sensitive spot below Harry's left ear. Harry moaned before pushing Draco off a little and attacked the smaller man's pale neck himself, biting and lapping at the skin as the ex-Slytherin threw his head back to give the black-haired man easier access. "Gods…Harry…" he whimpered in pleasure.
Harry continued to trail kisses down to his chest, his hands moving to unbutton the shirt completely and slipping the material off the blonde's shoulders, his lips feasting on every newly discovered patch of skin. Only when he finally reached the bulge in the blonde's slacks, did the photographer finally realise what he was doing to his model. He stopped his ministrations and stood back up straightly. "Draco…" he said to the blonde with wide fearful eyes.
The ex-Slytherin opened his grey eyes and turned his face, which was flushing deliciously, to Harry's. He looked disappointed…and…sad? "Harry," he said hoarsely, "Why did you stop?"
The ex-Gryffindor frowned, not expecting his ex-archrival to behave this way. "Do you know what we were doing to each other?" Harry said desperately, "You were carried away by the love you have to feel towards me through the camera, Draco. I don't want you to regret this tomorrow."
Instead of understanding Harry's point, Draco only scrunched his face even further. "I admit I was carried away, but I know what I was doing," he protested firmly before looking at his photographer with a firm stare, "I won't regret it tomorrow. I love you, Harry. With or without the camera."
Harry's green eyes widened. He stared at the blonde to study his face, to study his eyes, to see if he was really serious or not, and the ex-Boy-Who-Lived was surprised to find that Draco was honestly somber about what he had said, the solemnity apparent in his hard grey orbs. The black-haired man's heart began to quell with warm and happiness before he smiled and said to the smaller half-naked man in front him, "Thank you, Draco," he almost sobbed, "thank you."
Before the blonde could register what was happening, Harry pulled Draco's body close to him and brought their mouths to a crash, both moaning at the feeling of each other's lips against each other's. Harry then trailed his kisses down Draco's chest again…
Harry tried to swallow as much as he could before laying his damp head tiredly between Draco's thighs. They took a while to recompose their breaths, and after they had, Harry crawled to his lover's side and took his body to his arms, his lips descending upon Draco's lips again. They continued to kiss lazily for some time before lying comfortably on the bed, snuggling to each other's warm bodies, spent, but happy.
The couple was staying in silence, Harry petting Draco's long blonde hair and Draco tracing a pattern on Harry's arm when Harry asked 'the' question. "Why do you fall in love with me?"
Harry felt the blonde tensing in his arms, and he tightened his hold around his lover's body, silently telling him that he wouldn't leave Draco alone, and smiled when his model relaxed and turned to face him.
"I don't know, really," the blonde frowned lightly, "It's just…there. I guess it first came to me when I refused to be taken photo of by anyone but you. I am always looking at you with love when you have the camera in front of your face, your green eyes watching me intensely…. I am in love with you through the camera, have always been since the day you got me Cliff, and suddenly I just realised that even without the camera, even when you don't have it covering your face I am still…in love with you…"
Harry hmmed in understanding.
Draco was tracing a pattern on Harry's arm again when he added, "I am always thinking about you, you know…" Harry raised his eyebrow and Draco blushed, but he continued, anyway, "I mean, you're not that bad…aside for being too righteous but-" the blonde giggled as Harry gave him a punch and said, 'Hey!' before pouting to him, "But yeah, you're a nice guy. I came to learn that I can love you even without this model-photographer business." He smiled to Harry and the ex-Gryffindor smiled back at him.
"How did you realise that you love me even without the camera?" Harry asked after another silence.
"I had a dream, you see," Draco closed his beautiful eyes and laid his head on Harry's clothed chest, "In that dream, I saw you leaving me for another model, a more gorgeous man, and when I woke up I cried and cried until I had to stop myself, for I was feeling so scared and heartbroken and…terrified…" the blonde gulped and Harry's hand moved to pet his hair reassuringly. Draco smiled to Harry's neck and carried on, "…so I figured that if I was only in love with you through the camera, I wouldn't have felt that way…so…"
"I see," Harry nodded, "so that's why your eyes were so bloodshot that day last week…"
Draco blushed slightly. "Errm…yeah…"
The two of them fell into a comfortable silence again for a long time. Draco was about to close his eyes and sleep when Harry finally said a word. "Draco?"
"Hmm?" the model answered lazily.
Harry looked down at him pensively. "If that feeling of brokenhearted-ness and fear is what you feel at the prospect of living without me that makes you realise that you are in love with me…then…" The ex-Gryffindor smiled as the blonde turned his full attention to him and continued, "Since I also cannot bear the prospect of living without you…then… I think I fell in love with you too, Draco."
Draco lifted himself up to stare unbelievingly at Harry before his face broke into a grin. He threw himself at his lover and wrapped his arms around his neck. "I love you, Harry."
Harry laughed at his ex-rival before returning the hug. "I love you too, Draco."
The two of them didn't release their hug until they fell asleep on the mattress, forgetting about the camera, which was still lying upside down a distance away from them, the object humming silently as a signal that the roll of film had been used up.
"What?" Harry exclaimed in shock and scratched his head confusedly, messing his sleep-mussed hair even more. "The roll of film's used up? That's weird…"
"Morning, Harry," Draco said from behind him and kissed the taller man's cheek as he reached out for a loaf of bread from the centre of the dining table, the blonde's body smelling fresh of soap, "what's weird?" he asked as he sat down on the chair opposite to his photographer, who was also his new lover.
The green-eyed man lifted his camera from the table and said again, "The film's used up. I didn't recall ever using it up yesterday."
"You'd taken so many photos yesterday, it's not a wonder that the film's used up, really," his grey-eyed counterpart remarked as he was sipping his morning coffee.
Harry only frowned even deeper. "I changed the film once already; I remember that I still had about twenty more…" he insisted unconvincingly, his whole body still radiating sleepiness. He was still dressed in yesterday's clothing after all.
"Harry," Draco put down his cup and looked at him, his cheeks tingeing pink, "maybe you were wrong. We were rather…preoccupied…yesterday, don't you remember?"
The ex-Boy-Who-Lived blushed furiously before he stuttered, "b-but!", still trying to persist his point to the blonde.
"The film's used up, that muggle contraception can't be wrong. Just work on the negatives to see what the photos are, won't you? After all, Emily's coming tomorrow to see the photos for the exhibition." He stood up from his seat and put his cup into the sink. The exiled wizard was about to walk away to the living room when he turned back to his employer to say something. "Do take a shower before you begin though. I love the fact that you smell like sex now – (Harry blushed furiously again while Draco smirked) but hygiene is very important. I'm going to take Cliff to a walk around the city today, I won't return until sunset. Happy working, Harry," he smiled and waved at the ex-Gryffindor before the small blonde was thrown off his feet by a huge and eager Golden Retriver. "Cliff!" Draco yelped and pushed the dog off his body, "naughty mutt! Stop licking me or I won't take you out!"
The smart creature stopped assaulting his owner and sat up straight, wagging his long golden tail as Draco got back to his feet. "Bye, Harry!" he said one last time, and the two blonde males disappeared through the door.
Harry waved at them smilingly, but he sighed to his camera as soon as they were gone. Right, he told himself, it wasn't the time to brood. He had two rolls of film to work on, if he wanted to get them done before sunset he had better started now. With that in mind, Harry stood up and put his cup into the sink before walking to the dark room. On second thought, he mused as he turned his feet away to the bathroom, I probably should take a shower first, or else Draco would be mad…
A few hours after that, wrapped in a clean shirt and body freshly smelling of soap, Harry was hanging his photos to dry, chemicals dripping from each piece of paper. He smiled in satisfaction as he finished hanging every one of them and walked out of the dark room for a while to wait for his photos to dry up and eat his lunch, a simply cooked spaghetti bolognaise, before he would go into the room again an hour later, his mind intent on finding why the hell those twenty or so remaining film had been used up mysteriously.
The photographer walked between the rows of drying pictures, his eyes watching every one of them. Occasionally, he would smile at some particular photos, because the Draco in those picture had been too cute, become breathless when the love in the blonde's eyes had been too intense, even better now that Harry knew that the emotion was real, that his model loved him even without the camera, or try to ignore the ache in his heart when the exiled wizard had been too sad and frightened. Harry's lips curled to a soft self-satisfied smile at all the photos in his first roll of film, before moving on to the pictures in the second roll, the mystery roll.
The first sixteen photos had been expected. After all, it was only a continuation of the first roll. No, the shock came to Harry when his eyes fell to the seventeenth photo in the row. "Oh my God," he gasped.
The seventeenth photo was a picture of Draco and Harry kissing madly, their lips latched on to one another's like the world was ending, body pressing to each other as though they could fuse to each other by doing that. Another thing was that the photo was upside down, but the fact didn't register to the black-haired man's mind that time.
Harry continued walking down the row, his green eyes widening to an impossible size as he was reaching the end of the row. But the best was always saved for the last. And indeed, it was. When Harry reached the last photo in the row, he fell onto his bottom to the floor, all strength leaving his legs, but his eyes were still glued to the picture, captured by its beauty, his head feeling very faint from lack of oxygen.
"Harry, I'm home!" Draco shouted into the apartment as he let Cliff go inside first, laughing at the dog's enthusiasm and wondering if the Golden Retriever ever felt tired at all. His laughter quickly died down though, when he realised that the apartment was unlighted, and there wasn't any answer from his black-haired loved. "Harry?" the grey-eyed blonde repeated, a sense of dread entering his heart as he was replied with a stark silence.
The small-sized man continued to enter the apartment, his whole body tense as if he was expecting someone to leap at him from the shadows. He relaxed immediately when he saw his lover sitting on the sofa in the living room, his back facing him. "Harry!" Draco cried in relief before running to hug the ex-Gryffindor, "why hadn't you answered me? I was so scared!"
Harry jolted in surprise. He really didn't hear the blonde coming. "Draco!" he gasped, astonished, "when were you back?"
The ex-Slytherin frowned. "Just now. Didn't you hear?" he asked confusedly as he settled down next to his boyfriend, his frown deepening as Harry shook his head. He was about to press the subject even further when he lay his eyes on the rows and rows of photographs arranged carefully on the low-lying glass table. Draco bent down to look at them and smiled. "You're sorting the photographs for the exhibition?"
"Yeah," the photographer answered absentmindedly, "Emily told me to pick 40 to 50 best ones, balancing on variable emotions…" as he spoke, he took a piece of photo from the table and put it down to a stack, "they're the ones that were eliminated," he explained briefly when the model of his photos looked searchingly at it.
"Hmm…no wonder you couldn't hear me, you were too preoccupied…" Draco muttered under his breath and looked over the photos on the table, smiling when he remembered where and when each of them was taken. He exceptionally liked the one taken in the Ocean World, and when he told Harry about it, the ex-Gryffindor smiled as well. "Yeah, I love it too. You look so happy and beautiful there, the fishes swimming in the tank behind you."
The blonde blushed before he continued to look at the pictures. He was almost finished when he suddenly realised one odd thing. "Harry?" he asked his photographer, "why is there only one picture from yesterday's photo session? The one of my lonely look? I thought you took a lot of good ones yesterday."
The man in question stopped dead. The two of them fell silent for a while, golden rays of sunset entering the dim room through the window, before Harry finally said, "Take the photo on the upper left hand corner, the one furthest away from you, and look at it."
Puzzled by the instruction, Draco just obeyed anyway, stretching his petite body over the long table to grab the photo before sitting back on the sofa, his side leaning on Harry's side. When his eyes fell over that photo, the blonde momentarily forgot how to breathe.
For in that photo, Draco was lying on the mattress from yesterday's photo session, his whole upper body naked, his face scrunching in pure pleasure, damp silvery blonde hair splaying on the bed, pink flushes covering his sweaty pale white skin. His arms were tense, and his hands were clutching at the cream-coloured sheets dearly with all his might. His swollen lips were open, and his eyes, his grey eyes, they were shining with desire, lust, and love, love so intense that it almost hurt, immense love for the person who was pleasuring him, who was causing him to look that way, wanton and needing and loving that person so much his heart might burst-
With so much difficulty, the model wrenched his eyes away from the photo, his breathing heavy, his skin tingling with desire. As he was panting, Draco vaguely realised that he was hard. He turned shakily to his lover when Harry tapped his shoulder, his own grey eyes wide with shock and lust. "I-I…" he stammered, "Is it me?" he asked unbelievingly.
Harry nodded quietly, his breaths getting heavy, his hand shaking slightly as well. "Yes," he answered after a while, "…beautiful, aren't you?" he whispered huskily, his hand reaching to stroke the blonde's cheek.
"I-I…" Draco purred at the touch and leaned unconsciously to his lover's hand, "I never realised I am that b-beautiful…"
"You are…" Harry muttered deliriously, bringing the smaller man's lips closer to his and both of them pressed their bodies together. "Remember the mystery roll that's used up?" the photographer breathed warmly to Draco's lips, and the grey-eyed man nodded, his head feeling extremely dizzy with pleasure, they were so close…so close…but not close enough…
"The camera…" the ex-Gryffindor insisted excruciatingly, brushing his lips against his lover's pale lips, both moaning as they felt the fire coursing through their nerves, "after I dropped it, it rolled. The cushion pressed on the button after accidentally setting the timer option…so it took out picture every ten seconds…and…" Harry couldn't take it anymore, he brought their mouths to a crash and began kissing Draco like there was no tomorrow.
After that, things happened in a blur. All they could remember was pleasure, pleasure burning the ends of their nerves as they touched and kissed each other, pleasure streaming through their bodies as Harry entered Draco and became one with him, and, most importantly, immense love, love too intense shining from each other's eyes it made their hearts ache.
When they were conscious again, they were laying comfortably in Harry's bed, arms wrapped around each other, legs entangled intimately under the blankets, their bodies reeking of sweat and sex. But they didn't mind it at all.
"So…are you going to enter that picture to the exhibition?" Draco asked after a long comfortable silence, his finger tracing the veins on Harry's left arm.
"Of course," Harry used his right hand to pet his long blonde hair prior to planting a kiss on the top of his lover's head, "you're too beautiful to be kept in a cupboard, love, too beautiful." He continued to pet Draco's hair until the blonde fell back asleep on his body. Harry smiled at his cute, angelic sleeping form, before he closed his eyes as well.
"Simply too beautiful," he whispered one last time as he was losing his consciousness.
"WHAT?" Draco covered his ears with his hands as Harry screamed his head off at the handle of his phone, "ARE YOU CRAZY?"
The blonde sighed and moved himself out of the room when his photographer continued to argue with Emily via the telephone. They were always like that. How they could work for each other was beyond Draco (and beyond me too, apparently). The lithe grey-eyed boy was about to play with Cliff and ignore the commotion that was happening in the living room when he heard the green-eyed photographer banging the handle of the phone down before storming into the room Draco was currently residing. "…that cunning sadistic bitch…" the model caught some of the curses Harry was muttering under his breath and shook his head.
He let Harry off for a while to let out some steams before he approached his lover carefully. "What's wrong?" the ex-Death Eater asked the ex-Saviour of Wizarding World quietly when he was tucked safely in his arms.
Harry blinked at him, as though he just realised that Draco was in the room, and scowled at nothing in particular. "It's Emily. She's very happy about your erotic photo (both men blushed as soon as Harry said that) but she also said that your sad photos aren't enough. She wanted me to have one last photo session with you and without that she refused to coordinate the exhibition… that bitch…" the photographer sighed heavily.
This time it was Draco who blinked up at Harry. "My sad photos are not enough?" he repeated, his eyebrows furrowing slightly, "but you snapped a lot of them last week, and the week before, under the rain. And then there is my lonely photo. Are they not enough?"
"Oh, no, no Draco. They are enough. The thing is, Emily wants me to take a picture that is comparable to 'Broken Angel' in terms of intensity of negative emotions," the ex-Gryffindor explained painfully, "or else the exhibition will be unbalanced. Too many intense happy photos and so few good touching ones…"
"I see…" the model stood up from Harry's embrace and offered his hand to his employer. The black-haired man only blinked at the pale hand in confusion. "Draco?" he asked his lover unsurely.
"Well, we'll just have to have it, right? One more photo session?" Draco smiled to Harry, "I want the exhibition to be a success, Harry."
"B-but," the photographer protested and sighed again, "I really don't want to do what Emily had suggested to me to you," he said quietly and lovingly.
"Come on, Harry," the blonde pulled the black-haired man to his feet with all his strength, "we have to do what has to be done," Draco stated before walking out of the apartment. "I'll wait for you in the studio. Come quickly, won't you?" he smiled at his lover one last time before disappearing through the door.
Harry took all that he needed for the photo session and followed his model to the studio gravely, his legs feeling as though they were as heavy as lead. Or even heavier.
Draco blinked at the bandages that were wrapped loosely around his whole body, which was naked except for a white pair of boxers. Red body paint was splayed on some parts of the bandages and his skin, to show as if he was bleeding. Aside from that, the dimly-lighted studio was decorated very simply, with a threadbare mattress placed at the centre of the area, all windows closed by the curtains, preventing sunlight from entering the room.
After Harry was done with the settings of his camera, he moved towards Draco, who was sitting at the edge of the worn bed, and draped a black material over his shoulder. "All right, here's the instruction," the photographer cleared his throat to attract his model's attention when the blonde was looking at the black material blankly; "I want you to look sad, hurt, and fearful but at the same time a little hopeful and, as usual, loving. The scenario is: you have an extremely abusive boyfriend. You are afraid of him, you feel tremendously heartbroken when he beats you, but you can't deny that you love him, love him very much, and you can't help but hope that one day, he'll stop hurting you. When you look at my camera, I want you to imagine that my camera is your abusive boyfriend. Do you think you can do it?"
Draco looked up and nodded determinedly. "I'll try, Harry."
Harry smiled to his lover, who was also his model, the most beautiful person in this world to his eyes, and raised his camera. "Let's start then."
Like usual, Draco tried his hardest to fulfil his instructions. This time the directions were a little bit hard, though; Draco could never, for the love of God, imagine Harry as an abusive boyfriend, so again, he used his old tactics and drown himself in the memories of his past, and in 'what if' situations: his fear of Lucius and the Dark Lord, his sadness of his mother's death, his tremendous love towards Harry, his hope that they would be together forever, his hurt and vulnerability if Harry ever decided to leave him…Draco tried to show all these emotions through his eyes whenever he was looking at the camera.
After some time, Harry admitted: the photos were good. Draco's eyes were shining with all the correct passions: fright, misery, pain, helplessness, hope, and bright love, but somehow…somehow…the blonde still didn't look right. The feelings weren't deep enough, the way Draco moved his body wasn't natural enough. If the photographer didn't do something, they would not be able to produce a melancholic photography that could compare to 'Broken Angel'.
So Harry did. He never thought that he would ever do something like this, neither would he ever forgive himself for it, but he did it anyway. He put down his camera, letting the object hang around his neck, and approached the frail-looking blonde.
Draco looked up at him, surprised, his innocent grey eyes wide, as he asked him confusedly. "Harry?"
Harry didn't say anything. He simply backhanded Draco across his left cheek, sending the petite man sprawling a few feet away.
The blonde took a moment to recover, and when he sat up, he stared at his black-haired counterpart with a pair of truly hurt and heartbroken glazing grey eyes, his mouth agape, his hand holding his bruised cheek in disbelief, the rest of his limp body trembling slightly in fear, the black material slipping off his shoulder. "H-harry…" he gasped painfully. Harry tried all his might to ignore the pang in his chest, and took a picture of his wounded boyfriend, before he continued to advance to the other man with a fierce expression on his face, his hand opening the buckle of his belt and slipping the leather off his waist with a smooth reverberation. The ex-Gryffindor folded his belt once before pulling the straps taut, creating a loud 'snap!' sound which made his lover cringe frightfully and inch closer to the wall, his body shaking more badly now. "H-Harry…" he called him again in a small weak voice, as the bigger man towered over his terrified form, "p-please don't…"
Harry took some photos of the scene again before he glared silently at Draco, his green eyes cold and merciless, not betraying the turmoil of conflicting guilt and pains in his heart. The ex-Gryffindor raised his hand, and before he could hold on long enough to have second thoughts, he brought the piece of leather to his lover's back.
The object hit Draco's pale skin hard with another loud 'snap!' and the petite man gasped at the sting, his shuddering body giving out before him as he fell to his stomach. It was a wrong move, of course, as his stretched body further exposed him to Harry's assault. The photographer tried his hardest to numb his heart as he whipped the blonde again, who only hissed flinched futilely at each attack. "H-Harry…" the ex-Slytherin breathed, and looked up at Harry's tall cruel form, his face scrunching in pain and sadness, his scared eyes asking, 'why, why, Harry?', but at the same time hopeful and loving, one hand reaching out to his suddenly violent boyfriend, "s-stop…please…"
The ex-Boy-Who-Lived winced inwardly but took another photo, anyway and moved to get a better angle for the next snap as his model began to sit up on his legs, before continuing this unbearable torture. For both of them.
Draco learned fast though. After a few more whips, he knew not to expose so much of his body and recoiled to a ball, trying to make himself as tiny as possible, one hand clutching the dark material that was still draping over his shoulder tightly until his knuckles turned white. The model persisted to shrink back even further as the belt hit his skin repeatedly, his eyes closed to shut the ache away, before he couldn't take it anymore. He opened his expressive grey eyes after he turned to look at his lover, a tear falling to his unwounded cheek. "Why, Harry?" he finally voiced shakily, "why?"
Harry drew his breath sharply and furrowed his eyebrows. Draco's face was simply too…crumpled, too dejected, too hurt, his wide silvery eyes fearful, but still hopeful – there were too much conviction and love, unconditional love that won over all, that made him persevere in trusting this man, in believing that this would be over soon and forgotten like an unwanted nightmare. It was too much for Harry. He couldn't continue this anymore. After taking a photo of this heartbreaking scene, he dropped the belt and fell to his knees, his hands stretching to embrace the blonde. "I'm sorry, Draco," Harry murmured to the man in his arms, tears streaming out of his own green eyes endlessly, "Gods, Draco…" he choked, his body shuddering, "I'm so, so sorry…I'm so sorry…" he just couldn't stop sobbing.
The smaller man simply smiled softly as he laid his head on his boyfriend's shoulder, his nose nuzzling the ex-Saviour's neck. "It's okay…" he whispered and closed his eyes, his long blonde eyelashes tickling Harry's skin slightly, "I'm glad that this is over…"
"Gods…" Harry tightened his held around his lover, "I swear it's not going to happen again…I'm…I'm fucking sorry that I hurt you…I…"
"Sshhh…" Draco whispered to comfort the other man and raised his hand to touch his face, "It's okay, Harry, I forgive you…"
But Harry continued to cry, anyway, until he had no tears left to shed.
"Where's Emily?" a green-eyed avenging angel growled as he opened the door, his angry expression growing scarier as he couldn't find her in the room immediately. "Tell me where that bitch is!" Harry snarled at the lady sitting behind the table nearest to him.
She looked like she was about to piss in her own panty when she stood up and stuttered, "I-I'll get her straight away, sir!" before she flew across the room and disappeared through another door.
"Harry," Draco chided to him softly from behind Harry's back, "is that really necessary?"
But the photographer didn't hear his model. No, he was far too angry to hear anything.
Soon enough, Emily appeared from the door the scared lady disappeared to and greeted her colleague with a cheerful smile. "Hey, Harry, Draco! How are my two favourite people in the world today?"
"You Sadistic Bitch!" Harry roared to his manager, "I'm never listening to you and your atrocious ideas again!"
The blue-eyed woman looked taken aback, but not, by all means, scared. "What happened? The photos turned out fine, didn't they?" she asked worriedly.
Harry threw a few pieces of photos to her feet harshly. She looked over them frowningly, the crease of her eyebrows ceasing as she reached over the last photos. "Why, aren't they great?" Emily said to the photographer she was working for enthusiastically, "They're even more heartbreaking than 'Broken Angel'!"
Instead of smiling, the black-haired man only snarled again, "What do you think I had to do to be able to get those, huh?"
Emily looked at him blankly, still not understanding why he was so angry. "Why, a few make up here and there, right? The bruise on Draco's cheeks looks very real…" she commented appraisingly.
"It doesn't look real, dammit!" Harry shot out, his face flushing furiously, and at his manager's confused stare, he pulled Draco, who was protesting to him, from his back, "It IS real!"
Emily leaned to the blushing blonde and gasped as she realised that, indeed, the bruise was real. It looked nastier up close, the colour stark purple on Draco's pale skin and swelling a little and…
"You know that Draco's not the type of model who does 'fake' expressions," Harry shouted to his manager and bit his lips, "to be able to produce something that is comparable to 'Broken Angel' I must inflict something to him that will spur him to show intense breathtaking expressions and-" Suddenly, Harry's green eyes, which were flashing brightly with wrath, began to look glossy. As he sucked in a breath, his body shuddering, a tear fell to his cheek, "Y-you don't know what I had to do to him…" he managed to say before he choked and put his face to his hands.
"Oh Gods…" Emily fully realised the implication and rushed to the photographer, her hand petting his shoulder to calm his trembling form, "I'm sorry, I'm really sorry, Harry…"
"I hate you!" Harry gasped, his face looking up at her, "I hate you for asking me to do this! I hate you for making me…hurt Draco…" he broke at his last sentence and cried even more.
"Ssshh…" Draco tried, his arms hugging his lover soothingly, "I forgive you, Harry, I really do…Stop doing this to yourself…"
"How can you…" Harry shook his head at the blonde, "how can you still love me? After all those things I did to you?"
"Because I do," the grey-eyed man patted his black hair and smiled, "I love you, Harry, I forgive you."
Emily frowned as she watched the two men hugging themselves tightly. In her life, she had never hated herself as much as this. "I'm sorry…" she said again, catching his colleagues' attentions. "I really am," she furrowed her eyebrows as they turned their heads to her. "I'm going to really compensate it. I'm going to work my arse off for the exhibition, Harry, I promise!" She finally said steadily, her eyes firm and determined.
Harry and Draco smiled to themselves before releasing each other's body and nodded to their manager. "I'm leaving everything to you, Emily," the photographer said as he was about to turn to the exit.
"Just leave it to me, Harry," Emily responded unwaveringly, "I'm not going to disappoint you."
The two men gave her a nod before the two left the office.
'I promise, Harry, Draco,' Emily swore to herself after they departed, 'I'm going to work my best for this exhibition! You just wait; it's definitely going to be a big success!'
A/N: Well, it's all good and well for Harry and Draco now, isn't it? Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end, though…
Again, please let me know what you think about this chapter.
Aria DC al Fine