Inell's Fanfiction Archive

He struggles at first. The corridor is dark, cold, and the wall is hard behind his back. His head hits with a soft crack and he doesn't have a chance to gasp before warm lips are on his.

He can't see anything but he can feel. Large hands, rough palms, slender body. His hands move over shoulders that aren't broad, down arms that are skinny, and he can't imagine who it is that has forced him against the wall. It feels good, though, and he can't stop himself from parting his lips and letting the kiss deepen.

It's fire, rough and fierce, and he finally lets his long fingers tangle in shaggy hair. He bites, is rewarded by a low groan and forceful shove against the wall, and he tastes coppery bitterness on his tongue. More. He needs more. He no longer cares who it is, just needs his control back. A Zabini never gives up control, his Mum's voice echoes in his mind. It's New Year's Eve and the school is practically empty. He stays only because most of Slytherin is gone, joined a war that they don't understand.

There is a sound of singing coming from the Great Hall as the bells ring in the new year. He doesn't want to open his eyes when the lips leave his. He doesn't want to see, knows somehow who it is. Reluctantly, Blaise opens his eyes. "Lumos," he whispers before he watches Potter walk quietly down the corridor and slip back into the Great Hall before his friends miss him. Blaise leans back against the wall and slowly smiles. This year just got interesting.