Loony Lovegood

[ferretface_git]

All he ever did was read. It was embarrassing. No war, no sides to pick, no Potters to intimidate. Only a lonely, miserable wizard with too much time on his hands and a roommate that didn't know the meaning of the word boundaries. It was humiliating, and Draco took it all with the grace and maturity of a two year old. At least he was consistent.

He couldn't hide, even if he'd wanted to. His room was no longer the safe haven it had once been. So he'd wandered out to the ocean, wearing a pair of green swim trunks and a dingy white t-shirt advertising some cheap Muggle diner he'd never heard of, his pale legs bare and his eye squinted against the sun. His book was discarded in the sand, tissue-thin pages fluttering in the wind, abandoned while he took a moment to look out over the surf.

If he'd been a normal man, he would've thought it beautiful, sitting with his knobby knees drawn up to his chest and his grey eyes watching the water foam up over the sand. If he'd been normal, he might've considered going for a dip.

But he wasn't normal. He was a Malfoy, and at the moment he was imagining the ocean surging up and swallowing the island whole.

Comments

[of-badfaith.livejournal.com]

He froze, eyes wider than a frightened rabbit's, his hand clamped around her arm, ready to shove her away. She liked him. Well, wasn't that just dandy.

"You really are out of your mind," he said, his eyes narrowing, and when he pulled her in to finish the kiss that she started, he was proving a point.

What point, exactly, he couldn't tell you.

[dreamily-luna.livejournal.com]

"Of course I am," she murmured, but it's all up against his mouth. She's still not exactly sure what's happening, but that's been most of her life. One of the best parts is not knowing.

Not knowing and getting the most out of it. She doesn't just kiss him, she really kisses him like she means it. After all, she does mean it.

[of-badfaith.livejournal.com]

For a moment, he was afraid to touch her. Because she was Luna Lovegood, because she was a Muggle-loving freak living her life with her head in the Nargle infested clouds, and because his father would kill him. Flay the flesh from his bones, no wand needed. There would be blood, for certain. But there was also a fact that he was very aware of, almost at all times:

His father was not there.

A Malfoy is never clumsy, a Malfoy never lets his body get the better of him, but it was that damn see-through shirt and those short shorts. "Oh, hell," he growled, hooking an arm around her waist and hauling her onto his lap.

[dreamily-luna.livejournal.com]

Luna emits a small sound of surprise, but she really likes surprises. And she finds kissing Draco to be very refreshing, like holding a mint leaf between her tongue and the roof of her mouth-- one of those getting more than a metaphorical work-out as she settles quite easily against him. She thinks they fit together better than she might have wondered about.

She can't think of a person at home who might have approved of this, but it's true: that only makes it more fun.

[of-badfaith.livejournal.com]

She wasn't perfect.

If he was honest, which he was in these cases, he'd never really liked her face or her wide, glassy eyes, or that willowy little girl's voice, or her ratty hair that always seemed to be in need of a brush. Her legs were chunky and her breasts too small and she was just too damned short. She was an alien, a fairy-child. There was nothing regal or proper about her.

But she tasted better than he might have thought. He'd expected cloying sweetness or something entirely rancid and stomach churning, but she was neither of those things. She was warm and real and eager, and hate it though he might, he'd been waiting for something like this for two years, Luna Lovegood or not.

He pulled her closer by the hips, and with a moan he wondered if maybe there was someplace they might go nearby that was a little less in the open. Whatever position they might have been in, there was a part of him that might always shudder at the thought of being seen with her.

[dreamily-luna.livejournal.com]

The times she's done this before, it's been different-- boys who treated her as though she's made of glass. This won't be a problem with Draco, she knows. Easing the inside of her thigh up against his hip, she smiles and informs him, "D'you know you're kissing a lunatic in public? What will the neighbors think?"

Perhaps he'll realise they have an entire room for this.

[of-badfaith.livejournal.com]

He groaned, this time in frustration, and muttered, "This would go so much better if you'd keep your mouth shut."

Though he couldn't argue with her logic, the act of walking all the way to the room -- their room -- might just have been enough time for him to change his mind. That should've been a good thing, but his brain was quickly losing out the war with other parts of his anatomy.

[dreamily-luna.livejournal.com]

"I don't think you'll be saying that later," Luna assures him. She leans back in, slowly, pressing her lips to the skin just under his ear. He's so pale. Using the bridge of her nose to push his jaw up a little bit, she says against his neck, "Just so you remember, we have a room, and the door shuts."

Her fingers creep up under the hem of his shirt.

[of-badfaith.livejournal.com]

"I have a room," he corrected, but his contrary tone meant very little with his chin tipping back obediently and his hand sliding along the warm curve of her spine, rumpling her shirt along the way. "You've only infested it."

[dreamily-luna.livejournal.com]

She's probably sick, but that tone only pleases her. Assures her she's doing the right thing, especially when she finds that for a Malfoy, he just tastes like an ordinary boy. She decides that should the opportunity arise again, she will make sure to give him some kind of mark that will be terribly embarrassing.

"Even squatters get rights," she informs him, dragging her fingertips up his back.

[of-badfaith.livejournal.com]

"Do they?" he asked distantly, and for a moment, it sounded as if he valued her opinion, a rare occurrence even with something so trivial. Realizing his mistake, he pushed her away abruptly, sliding to his feet and hauling her up none too gently by the arms.

"All right. We've got a room. Let's go."

[dreamily-luna.livejournal.com]

For most of her first year, Luna's best friend was a thestral. She doesn't feel like she needs to finish the metaphor to make it work out. She just smiles, pulling her shirt back down her stomach from where it's rucked up, and turns to start walking.

[of-badfaith.livejournal.com]

It was a long walk back to the Compound. It felt like a death march, or at least, that's what he told himself. In truth, he felt more exhilarated than he had in months. He didn't feel at all like himself, and maybe that was the best thing of all.

Still, he didn't speak to her. He didn't look at her. He put one foot in front of the other until the Compound came into view.

[dreamily-luna.livejournal.com]

One of perhaps Luna's favorite things about the island is that nobody really questions what you're doing. That she's dressed for bed and leading Draco back to their room would be-- well, impossible, for one-- at Hogwarts, and it doesn't get them stopped.

She shuts the door behind them, and then sits herself on Draco's bed.

[of-badfaith.livejournal.com]

There was a long moment where he had no clue what to do. All of his past experiences seemed completely useless, completely unrelated. This was new territory, and surprisingly, he found that a bit exciting.

He stepped forward, reaching for her, but at the last moment, he made a quick and impulsive detour to switch out the light.

[dreamily-luna.livejournal.com]

Feeling bolder in the dark, as all creatures do, Luna peels off her shirt, letting it slip harmlessly to the ground, and stands back up. She walks towards him in the heavy silence, curling her fingers on his arms. It's a bit of a surprise, how her heart is beating in her throat.

[of-badfaith.livejournal.com]

There was an excitement in it he couldn't truly explain. Lifting a hand to touch her breast, the other curling along the back of her neck and pulling her into a kiss, he felt startlingly awake. Aware of every little detail, except for the rather important fact of just whom he was doing all this with.

That was something he was more than happy to ignore.

[dreamily-luna.livejournal.com]

His hand feels good, and this is so much more deliberate, at least for her, than anything else has been. She's so very aware of choosing this moment, and she likes it. Likes for once the feeling of controlling the wind that guides her instead of simply giving in to it.

She inches closer, kissing him harder, her hands sliding up and up until her arms are tangled around his neck.

[of-badfaith.livejournal.com]

She was small, but she fit against him better than he might have imagine. Not that he'd imagined this, of course. No, most definitely not. She was small, and he couldn't for the life of him remember if they were the same age, or not. If they'd been in the same year, or if he'd ever seen her outside of school until the island. She was something to be ignored. To be tolerated and ridiculed.

A year ago, he wouldn't be able to live with himself after this. It's amazing what desperation will do to a person.

Walking her back toward the bed, when he felt her hit the mattress, he practically tossed her onto it, pulling off his own shirt and climbing over her before he could change his mind.

[dreamily-luna.livejournal.com]

Luna lets out a tiny gasp. Yes, it's very different, and that's exactly one of the reasons she's here, wriggling onto her back, her thighs creeping up either side of Draco's hips.

There's a moment where she notices how similar they are in colouring, all blonde and pale. But then she gets her hands on his stomach and back, and she doesn't think so much any more.

[of-badfaith.livejournal.com]

He was not a teenage boy. Not any longer. But he was a very impatient man, a man who'd had a very long dry spell, and whatever grace and composure he might have possessed flew cleanly out the window.

He fumbled at the buttons on his shorts, cursing his lack of wand for the umpteenth time, the back of his hand brushing the warmth between her thighs, just behind that thin layer of Muggle cotton, and he bit back a helpless groan.

[dreamily-luna.livejournal.com]

"Please," murmurs Luna, as she feels the back of his hand come so very close without real contact. After painting a broad stripe of tongue against the inside of his mouth, she moves to exploring the skin of his neck again, lips and teeth and tongue testing for different sounds.

[of-badfaith.livejournal.com]

Draco is not known as a particularly considerate lover. She says please and he hears no request, only permission. Permission to push at her waistband, to hurry it along without much flair or time for foreplay. He'd be embarrassed to admit to rutting like animals, if asked later, but that wasn't far from the truth of it.

Condoms were things that Muggles used. He had very little concept of them, so the need for them hadn't occurred to him at all... but that could also be attributed to him being a man.

He was much more concerned with getting rid of all those clothes -- clothes which seemed to be magically multiplying -- so they could get down to business.

[dreamily-luna.livejournal.com]

Another time, if he forgets, she'll be happy to scar him by announcing how ready she is to be a mother, but for now, she's just glad she took so many to fill up with water. Half of them have disappeared from the freezer now, and her experiment is ruined, but--

--oh, he's taking off his clothes. She helps by wriggling out of her shorts, kicking them across the room. My, my, she thinks, is that him against her thigh?

[of-badfaith.livejournal.com]

For once, she was helping instead of getting in the way. He'd thank her, only that wasn't in his vocabulary.

Without her clothes in the way, all he had to worry about was himself, his own stubborn zipper and his own nervous, jittery hands. He was pressed against her, kissing her almost frantically, needing some sort of distraction...

This was oh so very wrong. Wrong wrong wrong a voice chanted, looped in his head, but he told that voice firmly to shove it up it's arse.

Reaching between them again, groping towards all that heat, he found her wet, biting back a tiny whimper as he pressed against her with no barrier between them.