frejafan

Pureblood Absolution
配对：lucius/draco
级别：NC17
警告：乱伦，BDSM，chan（这好像是犯罪的意思？因为d还未成年? ）
作者注释: This one is in celebration of the BottomDraco! LiveJournal community . This was supposed to be a two page smutlet but it got out of hand, as all my fics seem to.
This is unbetaed and first draft, as most of my PWPs tend to be. Maybe some day I'll clean it up, but let's be realistic! Hope some of you enjoy it nonetheless. Pardon the purple -- I couldn't help myself. And yes, I'm still working on a serious three part fic being betaed, and also my Draco bound by the sea fic.
弃权申明：所有角色属于jkr，无意侵权。
内容：Draco 被父亲惩罚，一个他们特殊关系的小小曝光. 
译注：未得授权的翻译只作练习。第一次译文得到的结论是我真的很无能TAT。真正的好戏还在后头呢哼哼。这篇我早晚要修改到满意为止！

Draco在古老的桃花心木书桌上伸展开自己苍白美丽的身体，他青涩，雪花石般白嫩的躯体在这张拥有几个世纪家族历史的深红色古董上形成了鲜明的对比。他的身高现在非常完美，在其它的同龄人里出类拔萃。他的双腿正以一种色情的宽度分开着，一条泛着淡淡墨绿色光泽的皮带紧紧系在他纤细的脚踝上，柔韧的皮带的另一头正拴在桌脚。他的腰身微微弓起离开光滑的木质桌面，像一道将要被享用的佳肴般将自己呈现出来。当他力不从心地扭动，想要挣脱那条将腰身束缚住的连着另外两条桌腿的枷锁时，上臂还带着少年气息的肌肉便微微凸显出来。

于是完全地，慑人心魂般神圣的天堂正以一种放荡地姿态被开启在Lucius Malfoy的书桌上，尽管他确信大部分的人会相信事实正好相反。（注：罪恶的地狱）他在这点上感到骄傲，满意地笑着，举起皮鞭。皮鞭的柄端包裹在柔软的皮毛里，所以这器具感觉上更像是他自身物理上的一种延伸，而他所渴望的却不仅仅是能产生身体伤害的工具。因为这种来自鞭笞的疼痛存在的意义是由支配这器具的人直接控制的，和他世界里的其它所有物一样。lucius打算充分利用这用具完成他的控制，就像他马上就会控制他儿子的肉体一样。

当鞭尾以完美的轨道划破空气时，Draco紧紧闭上眼，没有身体上的接触，只有在他颤抖的皮肤上的一些吻以及一声载满承诺的戏弄的喘息。Lucius享受着来自他儿子软滑发梢与沉浊空气相交融的触感，拨弄着这马上就要为在Hogwarts的另一年而剪掉的金发。

 

Lucius不能控制地想宠溺满足他的儿子，一个每年夏天留长自己的头发只为了更像他父亲的儿子。lucius对此感到非常骄傲，比起男孩那些理应受到严厉惩罚的怒目相视或是不满的讽刺。今天就是那些惩罚日的其中一天。

“求...求你，父亲”Draco颤抖的饱满的双唇带着淡淡裸白色，它们原本的颜色因恐惧和预感而褪化。

"Shhh, Draco.。我必须这么做。”需要这么做，lucius心想，用舌尖舔过自己的薄唇，贵族象征的银灰色眼睛专注地微微眯起来。他将鞭子慢慢引向预定的目标——那青涩的，毫无瑕疵的，理石般白皙的皮肤，这里将要因被他标记而忍受疼痛。“你需要接受教训， Draco”说着，lucius在他儿子白嫩的肩胛处落下第一鞭，唤起了被固定在他书桌上的男孩那声声甜美诱人的恸哭。

有那么一阵draco想要试着向后抬起头，但立刻回想到这样一个粗心和抵抗意味的小动作比起自愿向那条用来责罚的鞭子献出他自己会遭受更多伤害。随着他的脸颊贴在漆皮的书桌上，draco将身体回落到冰冷的桌面，他微微收紧肩膀于是当之后那一鞭落下时，皮鞭与他这种被迫顺从的姿势完美地契合在一起仿佛他就是为这样而存在的。

就lucius所想，他的儿子贴合这个角色就像是一件精致绝伦的艺术品；将在这个特别的时刻被宠溺被满足被激发，绑在他的书桌上，鞭打着直到流出鲜红的血液，然后被干到尖叫着进入下一个极乐世界。而此时就是这样一个特殊时刻，因为draco先前无礼的行为像是恳求着得到惩罚。

当第一滴血珠随着抽打染在draco后背深色的鞭痕上时，他高声地哭喊出来，因需求渴望地扭动起他的屁股。尽管在draco尖叫着悔过时，他感觉不到自己可爱紧致的皮肤打开，奉献出一道生命之液，但现在，他的身体记起了这兴奋。Lucius知道他儿子的身体已经变得令人愉悦的火热了。身体从不说谎。它自身的回应总是可以用于揭露真相，无论在思想上是多么的抵触。

lucius放下手臂，走近他苍白的还在流着血的儿子。他观察draco重重啜泣喘息的样子，闪烁着的双唇欢愉并痛苦地半张着，银灰色的眼睛现在睁开着好像震惊于这一系列的兴奋奔驰在他年轻的身体里。Lucius打开左手边最上端的抽屉，取出一个光滑的铂金属环，靠着他的手指低声念起咒语，挑动地笑起来，然后他温柔的抚摸着他儿子已经变热的光滑的大腿，紧贴着桌面，在draco前方，滑上金属环套在draco的性器上。

“不，求您...不要，父亲。”draco呻吟着，徒劳地拽紧束缚在他腰身的皮制枷锁，他的父亲无视他试图乞求宽恕的哭诉。

（未完结）


原文：
Draco was stretched, pale and beautiful across the mahogany desk. His young, alabaster flesh contrasted nicely against the rich red grain of antique wood that had been in the family for generations. His height was perfect now, having just emerged from another growth spurt. His legs were spread lusciously wide, and his slender ankles tied with butter-soft green leather to the clawed feet of the desk. He was bent at the waist over the wood surface, offering himself up like a delicacy to be partaken of. The boyish muscles of his arms defined themselves beneath silken skin as he tugged half-heartedly on the bonds that tied his wrists to the desk's other two legs.

Absolute, divine heaven was splayed wantonly across Lucius Malfoy's desk; although he was certain most persons would believe the opposite was true. He smirked with pride at this thought and raised his suede flogger, its handle wrapped in the supplest leather so that the implement felt more like an extension of his physical self and his desires rather than a sinister tool of corporeal punishment. The extent of a flogger's painful nature was directly controlled by the one who wielded the instrument, and like everything in his world, Lucius desired to exert his control perfectly over the device, just as he was about to exert control over his son's flesh.

Draco screwed his eyes closed as the flogger's tails whipped through the air in perfect figure 8s, not physically touching, but kissing his shivering skin with a teasing breath full of promise. Lucius enjoyed the way the downstream of air played with his son's hair, disheveling the blond locks that will soon be cut short for another year at.

Lucius could not help but indulge his worshipful son who every summer grew his hair out so he could be more like his father. More proud as he was of Draco, some of the boy’s actions necessitated harsher reprimands than a glaring look or a cold phrase of disapproval. Today was one of those days.

"P-please, F-father..." Draco's tremulous lips were pale, their colour drained from both fear and anticipation.

"Shhh, Draco. I must do this." Need to do this, Lucius thought, swiping his pointed tongue over his thin lips, his patrician grey eyes narrowing slightly in focus. He guided the flogger closer and closer to his intended target -- young, flawless, marble-white skin, aching to be marked by his hand. "You need to learn, my son." And with that, Lucius felled the first stroke across his son's slender shoulder blades, evoking the sweet sound of a stifled cry from the boy draped over his desk.

For a moment Draco tried to rear his head back, but seemed immediately to recall that such a careless and resistant manoeuvre might hurt him more than if he offered himself up to the admonishing suede strips. With his cheek pressed to the clear lacquered desk, grounding himself by way of the cool surface, he rolled his shoulders up a fraction so when the leather struck him next, the straps moulded to his acquiescent posture as though he was designed for this role.
As far as Lucius was concerned, his son was perfectly suited to the role of an exquisite delicacy; to be indulged in on special occasions -- to be brought out, bound over his desk, lashed until he bled, and then fucked until he screamed in blissful ecstasy. And this was a special occasion, for Draco's earlier actions warranted this admonishment.
At the first draw of blood amidst the criss cross pattern of dark welts upon Draco's back, he cried out sharply and began hungrily rocking his hips in need. While Draco couldn't feel his lovely tight skin part and offer up a line of crimson life fluid as his penance, his body remembered the sensation by now. Lucius knew his son's flesh was pleasantly warm, and that the thrum of a flogger was akin to an exotic massage -- lulling and alluring at the same time. But the body never lied. The body's own reaction was something that could always be relied upon to disclose the truth, no matter how contrary the mind's position was on the matter.
Lucius lowered his arm, and approached his pale and bleeding son. He watched Draco's heavily panting form, glistening lips half parted in pleasure-pain, and grey eyes now wide as though in shock at the array of sensations coursing through his young body. Lucius opened the top left hand drawer of his desk. He retrieved a smooth platinum ring, humming with magic against his fingers, and then he smiled lasciviously. As he pressed himself gently against his son's warm thigh, he reached beneath the desk, around Draco's front, and slipped the ring promptly along his son's erection.

"No, please... don't, Father. I'm sorry." Draco squirmed, pulling ineffectually on his leather bonds, his sire ignoring his cry for clemency.

As Lucius held the ring far back along his son's swollen shaft, he bent down, a curtain of silken hair pooling over Draco's hot skin, and flicked his tongue tip over the line of crimson fluid. At the immediate taste of copper in his mouth, Lucius released a moan as though he was a parched man finally given water; his son an oasis in his world of decadence. He thrust himself once against Draco's quivering flesh, teasing himself as much as his son. After licking away the small amount of blood, Lucius whispered the words to tighten the cockring around his son's girth, just shy of painful.

Draco whimpered, his fingers forming fists of frustration, despite growing harder amidst his father's softly caressing, slender digits. Lucius closed his eyes for a moment, simply enjoying the arousing feel of his son's warm hardness beneath his fluttering fingertips.

"You want this, don't you, Draco?" Lucius purred, nipping the nape of his son's soft neck, tasting sweet, young innocence that belonged to him and him alone -- at least for the time being. Draco was still too young to involve himself in a traditional relationship.

Gasping, Draco managed to eke out, "Yesssss..."

"I hope you don't commit these infractions of yours on purpose... to garner my attentions." Lucius nuzzled his son's neck, deeply breathing in Draco's delicate scent, as though to pull the boy completely into his body.

"No. I-- I... know I can come to you..." Draco's words segued into a long groan as his father bit firmly into the sensitive nerves at the neck-shoulder juncture.

Draco had only once previous come to Lucius for this type of attention without any irresponsible actions warranting this brand of treatment. He had cleverly used spells to bind his wrists and ankles in rope and waited for Lucius in his study, prostrate on the antique Persian carpet that had seen more blood spilled upon it during Lucius' lifetime than the floor of most torture chambers. Lucius had been pleasantly surprised to discover his son naked and bound, yet he wasted no time in shirking his robes and thrusting his cock into his son's eager mouth with his fingers at the back of Draco's head, pushing himself down his son's sweet, boyish throat.

"Ohhh.... Father!" Draco moaned as Lucius sucked his neck, writhing like a snake to the extent his leather bonds would permit.

Lucius lifted his mouth from the lovely curve of his son's neck, now flushed red and beautifully decorated with his teeth marks. There were so many ways to leave his mark on Draco; from a spattering of white fluid on a pale cheek to a deep razor cut above a pink nipple -- everything he would gift to the boy sooner or later, and everything he would enjoy because, after all, Draco was his father's son. "You should come to me more frequently, Draco," said Lucius in a very permissible, open manner intimating that if his son did, he would provide Draco with many more pleasures of the flesh. And he would.

Draco simply whined and tried to bury his head in the hard wood of the desk in shame, as though he had not yet come to terms with his own desires and that he could go to his father to indulge in them without repercussion. He did not yet understand that Lucius would deny his son nothing with respect to their shared intimacy. All in good time.

Grinning, Lucius stepped back and uncoiled his flogger once more. "But for the moment you need to be punished."
Draco choked back a sob and nodded, steeling himself for what was to come. The merging of pleasure and pain was still a somewhat confounding experience for the young boy, and his father endeavoured to imbue him with enlightenment regarding the erotic nature of pleasure-pain. And yet, there were also times, such as this, where the pain must be real to reinforce a specific teaching.

With his right hand firmly holding the flogger's handle, Lucius gripped the suede strip tips in his left hand and drew his arm back, elbow forward. He released the tips as he guided the flogger towards their intended target -- his son's pale, smooth ass.

Releasing a moan, Draco tilted his head back now, safe to do so as his father was no longer striking his back. The boy's sounds of arousal and scent infused the air, thick with Lucius' desire, melding them into one.

Lucius paused for a moment and then struck the delicious curve of Draco's right cheek, pinking it immediately from the force of his arm. Flogging was an entrancing art, and for a time, Lucius forgot his own need. All that existed was the beautiful pale canvas of flesh, which he slowly transformed into crimson heat, and the flogger, like an artist's brush in his hands to enact his bidding. With an entrancing rhythm, Lucius rained the leather over Draco's ass, hips and thighs, navigating a careful circuit designed to instil inciting sensations. He smiled when Draco tried to lift himself up into Lucius' ministrations, luring the leather to wrap around his thigh tighter, and strike his ass harder.

As this was also to be a punishment, and not just an erotic game, Lucius did consciously strike harder towards the end -- much harder. Not until Draco was wracked with sobs, begging forgiveness, and apologizing in a voice dampened with tears, did Lucius cease his stinging admonishment. Draco's cries echoed throughout the study, causing his father's cock to twitch with their sincerity.

"You're so beautiful, Draco," purred Lucius, his hand gently stroking one of his son's inflamed cheeks, staining his lily-white hand with blood.

"Th- thank you, F- father." Draco whimpered in his throat, his body like jelly, having given up the natural fight some time ago; submitting to the demands of his father's punishing actions.

Lucius bent his knees and lowered himself on his haunches. As he trailed his left hand down his son's outer thigh, he sighed in appreciation of the swollen hot flesh. He bent his head forward and swiped his tongue over one of the bleeding welts -- penance had never tasted so divine. And his son's whines had never sounded as sweet as they did now, as Lucius laved his tongue along the raised crimson wounds. Slowly, as though savouring his son like a fine meal, Lucius lapped at the blood he was responsible for spilling -- too precious to permit to simply drip upon the carpet below.
Draco's body roused from Lucius' oral attentions and began to strain in desire against the leather bondage. The boy was ravenous for whatever his father would give him -- and more. Like the insatiable child that he was by nature, Draco's aching need would soon transform into virulent demands, his father mused.

After setting the flogger on the floor, Lucius took his hands to each cheek, and prised them apart, revealing the pink pucker of his son's enticing entrance. With his moist tongue tip extended, Lucius leaned forward and licked the sensitive ring several times before pushing firmly against Draco's sweet, young ass, releasing a moan of his own.
"Ohhhh... Father! P-p-please... Please..." Draco's whines only served to coax Lucius into pulling his son's flushed flesh further apart and licentiously lap at the bundle of tantalizing nerves. Lucius ached to utterly possess the boy in every method conceivable. And he was determined to do so in the time to come.

Lucius sensed that his son's body was strained so taut with need that he might snap any moment. He grinned and pulled back slightly, taking up his flogger once more. After licking briefly at a line of freshly formed blood, Lucius whispered in a voice thick with lust, "Mmmnn, and you taste so exquisite, my son."

"Th-thank you, Father." The appreciative intonation was edged with frustration, which Lucius was in no hurry to relieve. Yes, he had completed his son's actual punishment, but he saw no reason not to tease the boy further.
Standing up, Lucius dangled the flogger in front of him, between Draco's spread legs, and he shook the straps loose. With a gentle flick of his wrist, Lucius propelled the flogger between his son's legs, guiding the suede to lightly kiss Draco's undercarriage and strained erection. He paused for a few long, aching moments and repeated the incendiary action, deliberately coaxing the butter-soft suede to melt around Draco's erect cock.

"Ohhhh, more, more." Draco began to writhe, his body undulating in synchronicity from the flogger's stimulating ministrations.

Lucius bit back a moan, knowing full well the stirring sensation of a well-maintained flogger gently caressing his erection, how the straps coil and uncoil around his stiff length, each lick of soft leather taking him one step closer towards climax. Except Draco's cockring would prevent the release that often came after a few well-placed lashes.

"Please, Father, please... I want you... inside me." Knowing he would be unable to achieve orgasm from the relentlessly teasing flogger, Draco likely hoped his father would mercifully deliver the final pleasure by penetrating his wracked and prone body.

Lucius chuckled and laid the flogger, graced with sweat, blood and precome, on the desk. Reaching inside the open desk drawer, Lucius withdrew a jar of clear, viscous fluid. For a moment all that could be heard were Draco's laboured breaths and the clinical unscrewing of the jar. Lucius slicked his cock liberally with the lubricant and then guided a slippery finger towards his son's ass.

"No. Just... please..." Draco sucked in his breath and then whispered softly as though fearful of his father's reaction to voicing an obscenity, "...just fuck me."

Fatherly concern worked its way into Lucius' voice, the expletive disregarded. "Draco, I think you're still too young to do this without preparation. You are... very tight." The last was accompanied by a wistful sigh.

"I don't care. It's what I want. Pleeeeeease." Draco always begged so nicely, how could a loving father refuse the wants of his only child, especially when that child was made in his own image?

"Very well." Lucius wiped his lubricated finger around and over Draco's puckered entrance and then positioned the tip of his cock against his son's opening. Intently observing Draco's breathing pattern, he waited for a calm out-breath and then at the beginning of the following in-breath, Lucius pushed himself firmly inside his son's body in one fluid movement. And the sensation was glorious -- sheer bliss, gilded in purest gold.

Lucius had no idea who moaned louder -- Draco or him. Draco's moan, however, was tinged with a discomfiting sob.
"Are you all right, Draco?" Lucius inquired, stilling himself, buried almost entirely in Draco's tight heat, staving off his own climax by sheer force of will and control over his own body.

The blond boy nodded slowly and then managed, desperation dripping from his tongue, "Yes. Please, Father." A long pause followed by a whisper, "Please fuck me. I want you to... so much."

With his elegant fingers firmly gripping his son's slender hips, Lucius began rocking rhythmically, penetrating Draco deeper and deeper with each additional stroke until he was sheathed to his root, convinced he was moments away from pouring himself entirely into his son like liquid platinum into a goblet of the same magnificent metal. Draco felt absolutely glorious, the boy's tight muscles quivering around his aching erection, coaxing his pleasure and drawing wicked delight from his father with every thrust. Lucius groaned and picked up the pace, sliding in and out of his son, like silk on skin.

Soon, Draco began to keen, his throat tight with the frantic need to come, still prevented by the cockring sealed tight around the base of his erection. "Father! Let me come!"

Lucius didn't respond except by slamming hard into his son's yielding body, over and over, jostling the desk with the intensity of his powerful thrusts. Possessing his son was an incomparable experience. Knowing he was fucking his own flesh and blood was more arousing than any other sensual activity he'd partaken of, and Lucius had partaken of many so far in his lifetime. Some day he hoped to share them all with his son.
Draco, his head tossed back in ecstasy, his body pliant as his father fucked him vigorously, screamed out for release. His incoherent babbling was eventually overshadowed by his father's triumphant cry as he climaxed hard, spilling his seed deep inside Draco's tight, warm body.

Lucius' manicured fingernails dug deeply into Draco's hips as he milked his release with long, languid strokes in and out of his son's ass. He dropped his chin to his chest, permitting the sensual sensations to seize his entire being. Lucius' cock twitched and for a moment he thought he might wish to continue fucking his son, seeking out another orgasm, but he feared his son's mood would rapidly shift from adulation to resentment if he acted so selfishly. And for his son, he would do anything.

"Please," croaked Draco, his own body still wound tight like a tourniquet.

Nodding, Lucius pulled out of his son and whispered the words to release the leather bonds from around Draco's wrists and ankles. He caught Draco's trembling body as he began to slide from the desk, no longer held in place by the leather he could smell as keenly on his son as he could their coupling. Gently, Lucius lowered his son to the carpet and smoothly took up a position behind the boy so he could cradle Draco in his arms.
Draco leaned back against Lucius' chest, tangling his much shorter legs amidst his father's. He reached up and laced his fingers together behind Lucius' neck. As he spoke, Draco tilted his hips lasciviously, drawing attention to his flushed erection, now a painful shade of purple. "Please, Father, make me come."

Lucius nuzzled his son's neck, flicked his tongue along the sensitive shell of Draco's ear and then whispered seductively, "I want you to make yourself come. Touch yourself for me, Draco."
Draco shivered. He'd never knowingly masturbated in his father's presence before and the lewd prospect likely shocked him.

"I'll release the cockring in a bit. But for now, stroke yourself." Lucius kissed his son's shoulder and then added as an afterthought, "Give me your fingers, Draco. Put them in my mouth."

Draco hesitantly obeyed, unlacing his fingers and bringing his right hand to his father's face unquestioningly.
Lucius captured his son's delicate digits in his mouth and began sensually laving his tongue over them, spreading saliva from fingertip to the edge of his son's palm with the same devotional care he had earlier licked his son's bleeding welts.

Draco moaned and squirmed against his father, tossing his head back to rest on Lucius' shoulder, breaths coming in gasps of absolute need.

Releasing Draco's fingers, Lucius said, "Now touch yourself... start with the head."

Uncertain, Draco drew his hand forward and Lucius observed eagerly as Draco wrapped his saliva glistening fingers around the tip of his sensitive cock. His son immediately groaned and stiffened into the scintillating sensation.
"Fuck your hand, Draco," whispered Lucius, mouth trailing gentle kisses along his son's soft skin. "Nice long, firm strokes."

Draco whined and complied with his father's wishes, enveloping his cock firmly and stroking himself slowly. Within minutes, Draco was wriggling against Lucius' chest, his entire body enrapt with pleasure and the desire to seek an end to the sensual torment that formed his pleasure. His breath hitched in his throat and he squeezed himself harder, ravenous for the release still denied him. "Father, please!"

Lucius smiled against his son's neck and whispered the words to release the cockring. The next stroke from Draco's boyish hand brought forth a stream of thick, white fluid.

Crying out as though in agony, Draco climaxed all over his hand, his father's thigh, and the carpet. He whimpered and continued fisting his spent cock for a few more moments, greedily chasing every ounce of bliss from his orgasm. And then he sagged boneless against his father's chest, hands falling limp to his sides, desperate to suck air into his oxygen deprived lungs.

"Mmmnn, simply beautiful," purred Lucius. "Now, what lessons did you learn today, Draco?" Lucius wrapped his arms lovingly around his son's pliant body.

Barely finding his voice, Draco managed to say, "Not to play with your Dark Arts magical items without you there."

"And what else?" Lucius softly kissed his son's cheek, feeling Draco's skin flush with heat from the answer to this question.

"That-- that I can come to you any time."

"For what purpose?" Lucius smirked against Draco's jaw, enjoying the torment of drawing out the wicked answers to his probing questions.

Very quietly, Draco replied, "For... this."

"And what is this, my son?" Lucius brought a hand up and gently tilted Draco's head until the boy's lips met his. He snaked his tongue tip out, flickering along his son's pert mouth.

"You loving me. And me loving you."

"That's right. And I'll always love you, Draco." Lucius sealed his mouth to his son's, sighing breaths of desire into Draco's lungs. He smiled when Draco's small tongue sought out his, knowing that no matter what happened in the years to come, Draco would always love him as well. Father and son, their incestuous conduct born amidst a purity of love, utterly without taint, and answerable to none. They were, after all, Malfoys.
~ fin ~

不知道南锣鼓巷里的树是不是槐树，只是让我想起了这句话。
巷子很长，女士不宜穿3-4厘米以上的鞋。
小路两边门脸稀稀疏疏地顺着巷子排到看不尽的深处。
巷子中偶尔弥漫着店里飘出来的薰香以及北方老城夏日特有的几分躁气但仍恰到好处。
大多数店等到日上三竿才开门迎客，店主竟多是和蔼友好的，这使平日里应学生身份大受冷落甚至白眼的我们如遇春风般愉快。这大概是因为来此处的多是外国佬，闲适的消费者促进商家也保持了分平定的心。（当然也只是多数只是多数）。其中映像最深的是一家叫与穆（繁体）的店，外屋多是本，明信片等纸质品，性价比在同行里算是很不错了；里屋有一些水管造型的灯架，极尽可爱与新颖！还可以定做纸本封面将小俩口的摆在皇服里头上顶着“正大光明”的牌坊，效果脱俗。
等到劳累过度的信号由脚部感受器沿传入神经送到大脑皮层时，咖啡馆总是不错的选择。价格相差不大环境各有千秋。
这让我想到丽江古城，但环境若此在东城不多见，所以不像丽江变得开始做作商业外雅实虚。
还有一家剪纸店也很独到，店主是个看似工艺厉害的老头但好像冒着股舍我其谁的劲儿。
穿过鼓巷的横向鼓街也不错，有家烤鱼店的金针菇卷美味无比，“孜然和辣椒恰到好处”丁字裤小姐曰。
沿着鼓楼大街一直走就到了交道口，说起交道口便不得不提起ｃｏｎｃｅｒｔｉｎｏ．这家全城无敌的协奏曲笔记本咖啡酒吧是我的最爱之一。和与穆的中式风不同更偏欧式，价格也更贵一些。买的东西少而精还可以看到些独立电影，必杀技是使人顿感脱俗一回。
鼓巷的衣服多数都是小姑娘穿不出味的，看即可。

今日携友曰丁字裤者同游此佳处，感溢于胸间，遂记一博以抒怀。
心窃念待某日一探前门，八大胡同。

恩，画不出好的屁股只能找些现成制品。
知道亲爱的，玥，猪大，薇你们都对美少/青/大叔有爱。所以翻出些男模为黑暗结束增亮几瓦光明。此君名曰波伊德·霍布鲁克( Robert Boyd Holbrook)，芳龄23。世界排名47，几年前因为一场Dior Homme的开场秀走红。恩其实长的并不完美，但身材好的冒泡，从某种理念++。后来我才知道很多同人将他视为draco的青年版（因为他比tom美）。
Amazingly goodlooking model Boyd Holbrook seems like the perfect choice for some sort of grown-up Draco Malfoy, from the Harry Potter saga by JK Rowling.
原来是罗妈起的头= =。这个女人啊，看到阿丹演恋马狂就在哈7里让他游裸泳。老牛吃嫩草了。
滚来滚去竟又回到我自己的老窝了...以后写文时可以看图写话了。但他看上去不够残忍（当然谁能像老malfoy，Jason Isaacs那样神形俱备！）。还有一组咱们已经宜的广告也很性感但是是正常向所以不贴了。
国籍：美国
身高: 188CM/6'2" 
胸围: 94 CM/37" 
腰围: 76CM/30" 
鞋码: 46 EU/12 US/11 UK 
领围: 39CM/15.5" 
衣号: 97CM/38"/48 
星座：处女
今年在一部G传记片《米尔克》中的有角色。（其实这才是重点==）
明日和后日都去掏盘等找到什么好东西见面时给你们。


(在网上虾转悠淘到的，右边那个越看越像二部老vold==)

madman

配对：harry/draco
分级:它连吻都没有。
注释：这是真正意义上的第一篇HP同人，其拙劣程度可见一斑。加之是在噩梦与美梦交糅的高三时节完成所以不免有些神经质．．．
内容：接第七册前半部分，忽略结局。它讲的大抵是一个死人和一个疯子。
最后战役中，当Harry举起魔杖向lucius malfoy念出avada kedavral时，金发青年挡在他父亲身前。

 

在他面前突然出现这样一个男孩。

他铂金色的短发柔顺地贴在脑后，白嫩的颈在发丝与黑色衣领间若隐若现，饱满的唇瓣紧闭着，微微抬起下额。这形象与斜角巷灰暗破旧落满尘埃的小世界形成异样的对比。

Harry放慢脚步皱着眉思索着，伴随着一种奇妙的厌恶与刺痛的感情混合体，让一个十岁左右的男孩出现在这里的原因。

“叮叮铛铛”的奇怪声音从背后传来，引导他回头看去，一个敏捷而高挑的黑影从挂满头盖骨的门侧身出来向这方向走来。这动作像蛇一样灵敏并且异常优雅使harry的胃一下收紧了，手不自主地摸向藏在衣袖中的魔杖。在黑影渐渐靠近时男孩才从橱窗里一系列古怪的看似不详的陈列中回过神。那一刻，荒芜冷清的小道上仿佛只剩下这几人，在harry看来，身影的靠近使男孩开始有些张皇失措继而微张开嘴呼吸。Harry也张开嘴，慌忙地抽出袖中的魔杖。

“啪”的一声，黑影消失在雾茫茫的街巷中。男孩抬起头，本已别得整齐的发丝从白皙的额上凌乱下几缕，浅灰色的眼睛盯住harry的，张开嘴说了一个单词。Harry咽下口水，试图润湿感到干涩的口舌，期待那慵懒性感的小声的到来。

 

Harry慢慢走下台阶。身后重重的关门声响起，吵醒了帏帐后的画像，那位夫人的尖叫，辱骂与诅咒不断回响在空荡的大厅中。

在一切沉寂下来后，他闭着眼走向深处的黑暗。回想起那苍白瘦削的脸，一种病态的细微成就感和某种扰乱人心不可名状的感情在他体内渐渐上升，膨胀，绞缠纠结。Harry用魔杖轻轻碰了下浴室的水龙头，片刻后夹杂杂质的纯净的水断断续续撒出，淋到他头上脸上模糊的镜片上。碎小的水珠最终迫使他又紧闭双眼，水滴顺着harry的黑发彼此汇合慢慢脸颊脖项。潮湿缠绵的感觉就像那个在他脑海中因恐惧而附着汗液的年轻maifoy，的触感。Harry深吸了一口气，这无尽缺氧煎熬的室内空气，将手抚摸上冰凉白色的大理石墙壁。他想起malfoy那时一定怕得闭上眼急促的呼吸着，浓密的睫毛形成的翼微微颤抖，饱满干燥的唇瓣张开又微收时，腹下的痛不可阻挡般倾袭而来。他爹坐在浴盆里，用手紧紧捂住头上的伤疤（尽管他早已不再疼痛），大口大口将略带潮咸的气体压进肺里。那痛如刺折磨他，他不得不将手深深抓进黑发里指甲陷入头皮，张开眼，那个青年赤裸地闭着眼坐在他对面，脑袋向后靠在冰冷的墙上于是脖子形成一个诱惑的弧度，铂金色的发凌乱而带着水珠贴在脸侧并在看得见血管的脖根处扭成像蛇一样，像鱼般光滑修长的腿分开贴着Harry的腿。Harry看到那白璧无瑕的胸膛随着每一次呼吸微微起伏，像在诉说一个隐晦让人难以忍受的私语。但是，他想做的所有的一切，只是让那双紧闭的该死的银灰色的眼睁开，然后看着自己倒映在那未知的瞳仁中。

Harry觉得难以呼吸，仿佛空气被抽走般。他气愤恼怒，像孩子一般胡乱挥舞着双臂想打破些什么以防止自己被这股力量，一种不能解脱的试图冲出来的力量，撕裂开来。但他越发努力却越发无能为力。

 
所以当Hermione找到harry 时，他就蜷着身子，躺在浴缸中睡着了。黑色的巫师礼袍被水浸湿，沉沉地压在他身上。她静静地看着他很长时间，像是要等他做完这一个或是下一个梦。Hermione最终不知道要说什么，只是回头招了一下手，一队穿着浅蓝色制服的治疗师将harry抬走了。

Hermione知道每次harry跑出来，只会到一个地方，在战时他偷偷在那里透过另一个大脑看着另一个人，确保着那个人的安全。

没有其他人知道那是谁，没有更多的人知道harry现在何方。人们不能接受一个英雄像harry这样，被世界早已遗弃的比沙粒还渺茫的战争记忆折磨成了一个“疯子”。

 

约41.50个小时。
距披星戴月的，打打闹闹的，喜怒无常的，为试卷上个位数字而患得患失的该死而美好的青葱岁月末端已远去。
现在应该是什么感觉？
现在其他人在做什么？
现在我的答卷在何方？
我是不会去对什么答案的。

那就像是一道墙将人阶段性地与过去阻隔没有后路逼得你不得不向前看。
那一切一切一切一切一切一切一切一切一切一切一切都只能存活在灰质沟沟壑壑的缝隙里尖叫着等待被遗忘。
调动一下情感矫揉造作一番。
让这些在沉默中消亡，然后喝杯碳酸饮料，让它们伴着CO2从肺里消失。