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FIC MASTER LIST

Tue, 06 Jan 2009 19:06:26 GMT

Here it is folks. A master list of all my fics thus far (almost).

Please enjoy!

HET

Head Duties, Percy/Penny, NC-17. Prefects Bath ficlet written in 2007. Need I say more?

Bitch, Harry/Pansy, NC-17. Pansy must take charge of Potter after he’s been dosed with a love potion. Skirts the edges of fluff, and lots of gay come-ons. Written for 2009 wizard_love.

SLASH

Harry/Ron:

Rump, NC-17. Ficlet written for magicoffriends, and kicked off 2009.

Death at the Manor, a mystery by Alasdair Head, NC-17. Written for 2008 bestmates_xmas. This was the most fun I've ever had writing a story. Takes off on Wodehouse and Christie.

Restoration, NC-17. Ron is a horner, and a damn good one. Send up of The Country Wife by Wycherly. Written for the 2008 rontoberfest games.

Birds, PG. Drabble. Ron sees Mozart's The Magic Flute and misunderstanding ensues.

Why Harry Loves Seamus - A Harry/Ron Story, NC-17. The Gryffindor Boys play a game of truth or dare. Written for the Fall 2008 FQF over at harry_and_ron.

Snow in the Moonlight, NC-17. Dennis Creevey needs to stay the fuck away from his Ron. MORE SAP. SAPPITY SAP SAP. Also, it has a dork-tastic title. Written for 2007 bestmates_xmas.

Happy Christmas, NC-17. Originated as a series of drabbles. SAP FEST OMG. NO JOKE. Like the third or fourth thing I'd written, by way of explanation.

Ice Lolly, NC-17. The boys mix up their wands to disastrous effect...or not. Written for the 2007 hprwfqf over at insanejournal.

Kiss My Arse, NC-17. My first ever slash fic (or fic at all, actually). FLUFF AND RIMMING. FIRST PERSON POV. Written to dip my wick before the hprwfqf in 2007.

Harry/Draco:

Elephants, NC-17. My first H/D, whoopee! Also the first thing I've ever written that's broken through to a third comment screen without me having responded first. *cracks open champagne* Harry and Draco are aurors who investigate a bizarre crime at the Blackpool Zoo. Also, Draco draws heavily on Sebastian Horsley, who is quoted and paraphrased often. I'm certain he'd be cool with this. *nods* Written for 2008 hd_holidays.

Harry/Seamus:

Arsehole, NC-17. When Ginny turns out to be a superfreak, Harry is mortified. Seamus won't stop taking the piss. Written for the ghost-like foretinterdite in honor of his birthday.

Raindrops, NC-17. Aquaphilia roommate fic. Written for my darling shes_gone in honor of her birthday.

Harry/Neville:

A Simple Misunderstanding, NC-17. Neville is game, he just doesn't want to get pissed on. Written for 2008 xnevillelovingx challenge.

Seamus/Neville:

Housesitting, NC-17. Seamus house-sits for Neville, which leads to some interesting discoveries. Written for 2008 hp_springsmut for the inimitable coffee_n_cocoa.

Percy/Oliver:

Gaucho, NC-17. Oliver runs off to the Argentine, and Percy must bring him back! Features centaur vaqueros. Written for 2008 hp_yule_balls.

Fifty Different Kinds (of Watery Twat), NC-17. Percy's mind is like a sieve. Written for 2008 hp_summersmut.

Percy/Teddy:

Yes, Minister, NC-17. Percy requires a bodyguard. A much younger bodyguard. Written for 2008 percy_ficathon

Lazy Arsehole, NC-17. Teddy is just really, really, really messy. Percy cannot abide this. Shout out to Ian McKellen for his inspiring role in Extras. Written for 2009 hp_springsmut.

Harry/Scorpius:

Peers, NC-17. Written for 2008 hp_cross_fest. There are so many things I love about this story, but I gave it a bit of a rewrite before posting it here. Harry meets a 17 year old (therefore of age) Scorpius while teaching at Hogwarts. I apologise for calling him "the boy" all the time, but it sounded better than "the man" in this case. Sometimes I hate language and all its connotations. :P

Remus/Sirius, Remus/Sirius/James:

The Perks of Owning an Invisibility Cloak, NC-17. Possibly the filthiest thing I've ever written. Written for 2008 hp_valensmut.

Albus/Gellert:

Exposed, PG-13. Meant to be the first of two parts, I suppose it stands alone. Legilimency fic.

Harry/Seamus for goneoffthelump

Mon, 19 May 2008 21:02:03 GMT

Title: Raindrops
Author: trubbleclef</lj>
Pairing: Harry/Seamus, first time fic
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Thunderstorms
Author's Note: This was written as a birthday present for shes_gone</lj>, a stellar gal who I can't wait to drink Old Ogden's with and hug 'til she spits up on my shoulder. HOT TIP: There is audio embedded partway through, so be sure to hit play before reading the scene it precedes. Thank you to the amazing foretinterdite</lj>for the beta and firewhisky wank. *pours you a Dalziell’s Kit* You deserve it!!!
Disclaimer: Do you see me asking for money? No? Move along, then.

Well.

They’d gone and done it. After nearly a year of living together with Harry at Grimmauld Place, Ron and Hermione were moving into flat of their own.

He proposed. She accepted. Now Harry was helping them pack their things. It felt like they were gone already.

Merlin, he needed a drink.
~~~

It only took a week for Harry to realize that he needed a housemate– the first two nights he had set the table for three without thinking. He still made a pot of coffee in the morning even though he didn’t drink it. That was a conscious decision. He discovered that the day wasn’t the same without that smell in the morning.

The place was eerily quiet in the evenings. Normally there were soft sounds. Hermione talking to herself as she studied by the fire. A game of chess with Ron before bed. The both of them helping him get dinner ready. Hearing the two of them from down the hall...Ron’s breathy grunts and Hermione’s sighs echoing down whenever Ron was the one to cast the silencing charm.

Harry sighed inwardly. He was happy for them. He really was.

He was just... lonely.
~~~

Harry stirred the teaspoon of sugar and splash of milk into his tea carelessly as he looked around the canteen. Normally he’d eat lunch in the Auror’s break room, but lately he was starved for human contact. So, he bit the bullet and looked around for a place to sit that wasn’t populated by obnoxious twats. He skipped over Parkinson’s table, obviously. Smith was glancing at him curiously, but Smith was a dick, so that was out. He considered sitting over with MacMillan, but his tolerance for blowhards was nil.

His eyes fell on Seamus sitting alone in the corner. He’d noticed lately that he was sporting an uncharacteristically dejected expression. That, in particular, got his attention. Seamus was normally so cheerful and, frankly somewhat hyperactive. He was staring down at his glass of iced water, just rubbing at the condensation with his thumb. One eye was hidden beneath his hair and his mouth was drawn in a thin line. He had dark circles under his eyes. He looked pale and underfed and... lonely? Harry nodded to himself and walked over with his tray held firmly in front of him.

“This seat taken?”

Seamus looked up, momentarily confused, but once he saw that it was Harry his expression cleared.

“It’s not. Be my guest. I’ll just be on my way.”

Now it was Harry’s turn to look confused.

“Are you in a hurry or something?”

Seamus knitted his brow and shook his head vaguely.

“Nah, mate. I just figured you’d be wanting the table to yourself, is all.” He looked distinctly uncomfortable suddenly.

Harry sat down and began to unwrap his sandwich.

“Stay.”

Seamus looked up, his blue eyes startled.

“Merlin knows I could use the company,” Harry continued. He stared at Seamus’s untouched food.

“Look, do I smell or something? Because if I do I’d really like to know about it,” he pressed, exasperated.

Awareness seemed to dawn on Seamus. Finally.

“You’re saying you want to eat together, d’you mean?” he asked, perplexed.

Harry didn’t understand why it should be so difficult to understand. People did do these things from time to time. “That’s right. You. Me. Food. Table. Possibly talk. I’m not too sure you’re actually capable of it, but we can give it a go, yeah?” Harry shook his head, bemused.

“Sorry, it’s just you never eat down here and I’m used to eating alone these days.”

“Me too,” he replied. That begged a question. “Wait. Why do you eat alone? I thought you lived with Dean.”

Seamus let out an exhausted sigh. “No. I’ve been living at the Leakey for the past couple of weeks. He’s needing the space. I think Padma’s gonna move in soon. Probably.” His words came slowly, and he continued to stare at his water glass as he spoke.

Harry came to his decision immediately.

“Move in with me,” he said decisively.

Seamus stilled and finally made eye contact. He looked utterly shocked, and let out a nervous chuckle. He stared at Harry for several seconds before practically whispering, “What?”

Harry was bemused, to say the least. He didn’t expect a reaction like that. “Move into Grimmauld Place with me. I mean it. Ron and Hermione just moved out and I’m crap at this living alone business. If you’re looking for a place it makes sense, don’t you think?”
“Mate,” Seamus began to argue. “Are you sure you wanna have me living with you?” He shook his head slightly, a sad expression on his face.

Merlin, thought Harry. What happened to him to make him so depressed?

“Why on earth not? We’ve roomed together at Hogwarts. You drink coffee, right?”

“Huh?”

Harry put down his sandwich and tried again. “You look like shit. You’re not even eating. Living at the Leakey obviously doesn’t agree with you. Come on. I cook.”

Seamus looked dubious, eying him warily from across the table.

He was not going to beg.

“Please?”

The corner of Seamus’s mouth twitched and he nodded slightly.

Harry’s face broke into an enormous grin.

“Brilliant! Let me get a few things ready, and why don’t you come by tonight?”

Seamus gave a small smile. “Aye. I’ll come by around nine? I mean, if you’re really positive. I don’t want you to feel like you have to–”

“Not at all,” Harry interrupted. “I’ll see you at nine.”

And with that, he drained his tea and walked back to work with a spring in his step. This could work.
~~~

Harry rushed home after work and immediately began flinging the doors open to every vacant bedroom. He narrowed it down to two rooms, and finally settled on the one closest to the bathroom. It was slightly bigger than Ron and Hermione’s old room, and had a huge tester bed with crewel work hangings against one wall. There was also a sturdy velvet settee by the fireplace. What it needed was a good cleaning. Harry shook his head thoughtfully. He was crap at cleaning spells. What he could really use was Hermione’s help.

When he flooed their flat Ron answered.

“Harry! You need to come by the shop tomorrow and see what George’s come up with. It’s this lotion that–”

“Sorry, Ron, but I need Hermione. She around?” he asked hopefully.
“Nah. Not back from work yet. What’s up?”

“Seamus is moving in tonight, and I need help getting a room ready for him.”

Ron’s eyes widened and he seemed to hesitate. He looked at Harry carefully and opened and closed his mouth a few times.

“Ron. This dramatic pause thing is wasting valuable floo powder. Why don’t you just come on over?”

Ron nodded quickly. “Let me just leave a note for Hermione. I’ll be over with some food and I’ll help out.”

“‘Kay.”

He very much wondered what that was all about.
~~~

Ron arrived 15 minutes later with curry in tow. Harry called down to him from Seamus’s new room.

“Up here! Do we need plates? I’ve got forks. When’s Hermione getting here? I’ve got new linens and stole that great rug from the study on the third floor. Do you think he’ll want a desk?” His excitement was causing him to ramble a bit.

“Mate, calm down. It’s just curry, we can eat out of the containers. Hermione will come here straight after work, and I have no idea about the rest,” Ron replied.

“Do you know his favorite color by chance? Quidditch team. Think. Think,” he muttered to himself. “Aha! Green! This is going to be brilliant! He’s been looking really depressed lately, and–”

“‘M not surprised,” Ron mumbled.

Harry raised his eyebrows. “What do you mean?”

Ron rolled his eyes. “It’s to be expected, don’t you think?”

Harry stared. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Ron looked at him incredulously. “What?! He tried to have it off with Dean!”

“What?”

“But Dean wasn’t having any of it and let him down as gently as a bloke can under the circumstances. I mean, can you imagine?” He shook his head.

Harry felt the blood rush to his face.

“Er... that’s... awkward?” he hazarded.

“Uh, yeah. I should say so,” Ron agreed, popping the lid off his curry. He eyed Harry thoughtfully as he chewed. “Does it bother you?” he finally asked.

Harry considered this. He got the impression that he ought to be put off or something, but to be honest he was kind of intrigued. He’d never really known a bent person before. Seamus was of medium height and a sinewy sort of muscular, rather like a dancer, Harry thought. But he wasn’t the slightest bit effeminate. He was always a very manly sort of bloke– athletic and with a surprisingly filthy sense of humor. Harry had been on his bad side before, yes, but he understood it in retrospect for the family loyalty that it was, and he couldn’t imagine being uncomfortable around him.

Footsteps thundered up the stairs.

“Oh Harry!” Hermione cried as she raced to him and flung her arms around him. “I think it’s so wonderful that you’re doing this!”

“Um, thanks?”

“I was beginning to think he’d be ostracized completely, and to have you of all people look past the gossip and bring him back to his friends... well, I just think it’s wonderful.” She beamed at him.

“Er, Hermione, I had no idea, because no one ever tells me anything.” He glared at them both. “But Ron just told me what happened.”

She looked crestfallen.

“And as I was just about to say to Ron, it doesn’t bother me. Honestly, it’s fine. I’m really looking forward to having a housemate again. It’s going to be great,” he enthused. And he meant it.

Her smile returned. “I’m so glad.” She looked around critically. “This is his room?”

Harry nodded.

“Well let’s get to work!”
~~~

Harry looked around repeatedly, fiddling with the pillows on the bed. Yet he couldn’t find fault with anything they’d done. The walnut paneling shone, as did the floor. The carpet was clean and thick and comfortable underfoot. The windows and the crystal hanging from the torches sparkled. The wardrobe smelled of fresh cedar and the mattress faintly of lavender. They installed a bookshelf and a desk, and Harry put throw pillows on the settee. And the linens and bed hangings were Kestrels green. If that didn’t say welcome, Harry didn’t know what did.

It was nearly nine, so he went downstairs to wait by the floo. His stomach kept doing little jumps and he considered pouring a firewhisky to calm himself a bit.

The flames flared to life and Seamus came through into the drawing room.

“Hello, Harry.” He looked around nervously, and carried nothing more than his old school trunk and a rucksack. Knowing what he knew now, Harry felt his stomach do a real lurch this time. He desperately wanted to make Seamus feel comfortable.

“Welcome! Welcome, yes! Come on, let me pour you a drink and give you the tour,” he gushed.

Seamus put down his bag and smiled slightly. “Aye, I could use one of those.”

Harry pointed his wand and the trunk and bag and sent them to Seamus’s room. Then he poured two firewhiskys and handed one to Seamus.

“So.” He decided to begin with the kitchen.
~~~

“And this is the bathroom. There’s just the one per floor, but it’s pretty huge, and there are two basins, so I don’t think we’ll have any problems with sharing. I managed with both Ron and Hermione, so...what is it?”

Seamus was staring at the bathtub.

“Sorry, I... nice tub,” he replied, still riveted.

Harry looked at it. It was one of those old fashioned copper tubs big enough to have a party in. There were windows on the wall beyond it that were charmed so that no one could see in, which was important now that the Fidelius was gone. Next to those there were French doors opening onto a covered porch. Harry liked to sit there late at night while he ran his bath. He would set the spigot to a very slow flow so that he could hear the splash and the patter of the drops as they hit the metal for as long as possible. He shivered just thinking about it.

“Yeah. It is,” he agreed. He walked back into the hallway. “This is my room over here.” He waited as Seamus poked his head in for a look. “And this is yours.” He stepped back to let Seamus walk in first. He felt his throat tighten. He really wanted him to like it.

Seamus looked around in awe. “Merlin, Harry! This is–” He paused. “See here, I’m gonna be honest with you. I don’t know what I’m doing here.” Harry watched the almost hopeful look in his eyes flicker out.

“You’re coming here to live with me because I asked you to in all sincerity and I don’t know what part of this situation you’re having so much trouble with. I want you to be here. I wouldn’t have asked you otherwise.”

Something in his words finally cracked the armor. For the first time that day he watched Seamus break into an actual smile. It made his eyes crinkle at the corners and Harry found himself watching the small dimple on his right cheek.

“Alright then. You’ve convinced me,” he stated simply, still smiling.

Harry was filled with a sense of satisfaction. He smiled back.

“Another firewhisky?”
~~~

They talked for hours. Seamus sprawled out on the settee and Harry on the floor by his feet. By two in the morning they were completely up to date on the details of each others lives.

Except for a few things. They were lucky it was a Friday. Harry had not asked about the Dean situation specifically, but his curiosity was egged on by the liquor, and before he knew it he’d gone and said something.

“When did you know?”

Seamus narrowed his eyes at him. “When did I know what?”

Harry waggled his finger at him. “No, no, no. You know what I’m talking about. When’d you know you fancied blokes?”

Seamus rubbed his hands over his face and exhaled deeply. “Fourth year,” he confessed.

“Wow.” Harry digested this. “That early? How did you know?” he pressed.

Seamus reddened significantly. “Second task. Er, Cedric Diggory.”

“Oh.” Harry nodded. “Makes sense. I respect your taste. Please continue,” he exclaimed, raising his glass into the air in a commanding fashion.

Seamus laughed. “What else is there to tell? That the sight of wet blokes is my Achilles heel? Merlin, I’d never be having...if he hadn’t...fecking hell.” His smile faded.

“I’m sorry,” Harry offered. He’d killed the mood, that much was plain. “I didn’t mean to pry. Well, maybe a little. I just wanted to understand.”

Seamus nodded. “I know.”

“Um... You can talk to me. I want this to work, yeah?” He stood, a little worse for the firewhisky, but not too bad.

“Yeah. Thanks.”

“Well, I’ll leave you to it, then. Goodnight,” he said as he headed for the door.

“Goodnight now,” whispered Seamus as he stared at a bedpost. He seemed to have slipped back into the same melancholy as before.

Harry promised himself he’d change that.

Once he closed the door, Harry was struck with the urgent desire to take a bath. As he listened to the water run he sat next to the tub swirling his fingers around in it and thinking about what Seamus had said. As soon as he’d mentioned wet blokes he clammed up. He must have been talking about what happened with Dean. It must have happened as Dean was getting out of the shower or something. A sudden image of a wet Seamus popped into his head– beads of water dripping from his hair onto his shoulders. Harry broke out in goosebumps and let the water from his fingers drip down his legs. He felt his cock stiffen.

Maybe it was the firewhisky, but he didn’t regret what he did next in the slightest.
~~~

The next week passed by quickly and pleasantly. Seamus seemed to have settled in quite nicely. He brought over some more of his things from his old flat and soon small signs of him began to appear all over the house. Harry couldn’t help but smile every time he found a used water glass left somewhere. It meant that Seamus had been there– examining the piano, talking to the tiny portrait of Sirius in the drawing room, reading in what must be his favorite chair. He helped cook in the evenings and lectured Harry at length on malt. In turn, Harry waxed poetic about brooms.

What surprised and pleased Harry to no end was the fact that Seamus seemed to take responsibility for the state of the bathroom. Kreacher did the rough, but Seamus contributed nice un-smelly soaps and bath flakes. He cast heating charms on the towels that lasted forever. He also charmed the mirror to be steam free and did the same to a small mirror he added on an extendable arm for morning showers. Shaving in the shower felt indescribably luxurious, and Harry loved it.

He found himself eager to get home each day, something he hadn’t felt with such intensity in ages. Harry’s thoughts were usually centered around Seamus, but it didn’t bother him any. Every smile or laugh he elicited from the other man felt like an accomplishment. Making Seamus happy created a physical reaction– he felt something rush through him. He didn’t even bother trying to deny it. Thinking about where those feelings could be headed filled him with an anticipation he’d not known since he first came to Hogwarts.

Sometimes he was very confused by all of this.

That Friday found them unwinding after dinner with some Old Ogden’s. There was something in the air that Harry couldn’t quite put his finger on.

“You know this stuff is shite, right?” Seamus asked, waving his tumbler. “Why is it that nearly every British wizard spends seven years in the Highlands and yet you all still drink this crappy blended...crap? Here when good whisky is the only thing you’ll be doing better outside of Ireland.” He shook his head in fond exasperation. “So I’ve ordered some Dalziell’s Kit because this just can’t go on, I’m telling you.”

Harry nodded, absently. “We should go out sometime.”

Seamus blinked.

“Get out of the house,” he continued. “Do something fun. We’ve got to smell the air and see people. Don’t you think so?”

“I like being here,” he replied softly.

Harry looked up at him. “Yeah. So do I.”

“Smells like a storm is coming, now. D’you mind if I open a couple of windows?” Seamus asked hesitantly.

“Please do!” Harry enthused.

Just then a huge clap of thunder sounded. The sky seemed to split into two as the rain began coming down in torrents.

Harry shivered and saw Seamus’s eyes drawn to the gooseflesh of his forearms.

“I love thunderstorms,” Harry sighed, locking eyes with him.

“Me too,” Seamus said quietly.

Perhaps it was the storm, but Harry felt something absolutely electric pass between them.

Inspiration struck once again. “Follow me and bring the bottle.”

He led Seamus up into their bathroom and out onto the porch, grabbing a few enormous towels along the way.

“Let’s make a thunderstorm fort!” His body was thrumming at the chance to do this with someone else.

He moved two chairs so their backs were facing with room between for them to sit. He put one towel on the floor like a carpet between and another draped over the backs of the chairs creating a little cave. Harry beckoned Seamus to come sit next to him. He wrapped the last towel around their shoulders like a blanket and took a swig from the bottle. They sat there watching and listening to the rain pound and splash. Little droplets spattered their bodies as they sat shivering next to each other.

“This is...interesting,” Seamus said tentatively.

“Isn’t it brilliant?” Harry inhaled deeply.

“Aye. It is,” he breathed back.

They were so close, hip to hip wrapped under the towels. Harry was almost dizzy as he felt his trousers tighten. He turned his head slightly towards Seamus.

“My favorite part is getting hit by the mist.”

Seamus moved slightly closer. When he spoke his voice was low and husky and right in his ear. “I love the contrast. Hot breath against the gusts of cold wind, all of it laced with icy drops.”

Harry shuddered. Merlin, this felt so good.

He placed his hand on the small of Seamus’s back. “I love this,” he whispered against his cheek.

He could hear Seamus’s breath hitch as he continued to let his hot breath graze the other’s skin.

“What’ll you be after, then?” he whispered back.

Emboldened, Harry licked his lips and placed a kiss against his cheekbone.

Seamus leaned in closer, practically panting. “Do you have any idea what you’re doing to me?”

“Yes,” he breathed, “and I want to keep doing it.”

A strangled sigh was the only thing he heard in response.

Harry kissed him gently at first, sucking lightly on his lower lip, his tongue slowly dancing it’s way inside. The whisky may have been shite, but fuck he tasted amazing. He knew just what he wanted to do.

“I want to touch you.”

Seamus grasped Harry’s free hand and guided it down between his legs.

“I want to make you wet,” he continued to choke out, his voice shaking. When had he lost his self control?

“Fuck, I want your mouth on me,” Seamus gasped.

Harry nodded quickly. He was more turned on than he could ever remember being in his life. He was actually trembling.

They helped each other disrobe, their skin warm and moist. Harry couldn’t stop a little moan from escaping as he saw Seamus spread out in front of him. He was flat on the towel, his sinewy muscles visible beneath milky skin. Harry’s mouth watered.

He collected himself and put his hand out to collect water from the storm. He pulled his arm back and let it drip slowly onto Seamus’s face. Seamus’s breath was fast and shallow, his body covered in goose bumps. Harry traced his wet fingertips down his chest, over his belly button, down onto his thigh. Seamus’s balls tightened visibly.

He placed his wet hand on the other man’s cock and lightly stroked its length.

“Suck me,” Seamus pleaded.

He bent over Seamus and exhaled hot breath onto his twitching cock. When he pulled it into his mouth entirely Harry nearly came on the spot. The storm continued to pound as he licked and sucked, the rain still tickling them gently. As Harry tasted the come filling his mouth, the body below him racking with shudders, he could think of nothing else that would please Seamus more than this.

“Please...fuck me, Harry.”
~~~

3 months later...

“Come sit in front of me.” Seamus beckoned Harry over with soapy hands.

He immersed himself in the tub and let the other man wrap his body around him, rubbing his neck and back with smooth practiced movements. He groaned loudly.

“Our friend who must not be named was an idiot for turning this down. Nothing could be better than this.”

Seamus chuckled into Harry’s neck.

“Nah. Like I said, he just happened to be wet when I was desperate and vulnerable. You, on the other hand. Well, I’ve wanked to you since fourth year.” He continued to place small kisses to Harry’s neck.

“You what?” Harry craned his neck around to look at the other man. “I thought that you fancied Cedric then!”

“Nah, but he was an obvious choice and I couldn’t tell you the truth. Not then. You were in your clothes! That’s when I decided you might be a wee bit touched, to be honest. Sure Merlin, what kind of man takes his shoes and socks off to get into the water, and then leaves his robes on?”

“Hey! I fell asleep in the library and didn’t have time to go get swim trunks, I’ll have you know!”

“Aye, but the robes,” Seamus chortled. “Never in all my days have I seen such a fit of absent-mindedness. If my cock weren’t pressed right against your bum,”

Harry gasped.

“I’d be wondering if you left your pants on.”

“Oh ha bloody ha.”

“When you came out of that water with your trousers glued to your bits like that. Merlin! Do you have any idea what sort of illegal acts I wanted to...” he trailed off.

Harry grinned.

“How about you tell me?”

fin

Harry/Seamus for foretinterdite

Tue, 15 Apr 2008 20:38:10 GMT

Title: Arsehole
Word Count: 3082
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Harry/Seamus, past Harry/Ginny.
Warnings: OMG SCAT that's brief het. But don't worry, it's funny, not scary (I hope). Just trust me, alright? It's not graphic and is meant in jest to the nth degree, I promise. Oh dear, no one is going to read this! *laughs* The scene in question was inspired by this Worst Sex entry on b3ta.com, which is also worth reading. But read that after or you'll spoil the whole thing.
Author's Notes: For foretinterdite , the best boy. And I'm sure his grip's not bad,either. You're a brave, brave lad. *tear* Many thanks to midnightblue88 and goneoffthelump for the betas and encouragement. Thank you, my dears! Next up, watersports. ;D

Harry loved Ginny. He would do anything for her.

He was fairly certain of this.

He was also fairly certain they’d be having sex that night. Finally. They’d been dating for nearly a month, after all, and they were going to have a romantic meal at his new flat. Alone.

The evening started out well. Ginny was very flirtatious all through dinner, and had polished off over half a bottle of wine. When Harry put the moves on her she was so game that she actually dragged him to the bedroom.

Harry was nervous. Of course he was. He was about to make sweet, beautiful love to his girl. His Ginny.

He was going to fuck her.

Everything was going swimmingly. He’d massaged her tits already and sucked on them for a bit - she seemed to like that. About a minute after he started investigating her folds with his fingers, Ginny made an impatient noise and sat up.

“Let’s try something else, Harry.”

“Er. Okay.”

Let her take the lead. Yes. He could do that. Because by that point he was pretty sure that he had no fucking clue what he was doing.

Ginny kissed him deeply, while out of the corner of his eye he saw her conjure a small green silk handkerchief that was nearly the color of his eyes. It looked far too small to blindfold him or tie him up with. She began to gently tickle his back with it. That was rather nice. Harry felt her other hand reach down and her small fingers began playing with his arsehole. That was rather nice, too.

When she whispered something between kisses, Harry didn’t give it any thought. When he felt her begin to actually stuff the tiny scarf up his arse, he was a bit shocked. Not enough to stop her, but he did feel that this was beginning to get a little weird.

“Shhh,” she whispered gently. “This is going to feel really, really good.” And with that she bent down and wrapped her lips around his cock.

Why not, he mused. Best to just go with it.

He wasn’t exactly sure when his new cotton sheets became plastic, but he was pretty fucking close to coming, so he couldn’t find it in himself to care very much. Getting blown was pretty distracting, he decided.

He was barely aware of her fingers pinching the tip of the scarf that still peeked out of his hole. Just as he came down Ginny’s throat she pulled the scarf out.

Fast. He suddenly felt...

“Oh SHIT!” He was positive that something rather embarrassing had just happened. He was afraid to look. It was only when he heard Ginny’s soft moans of pleasure that he could finally bring himself to open his eyes.

The image of her rubbing his mess onto her tits would be forever burned into his memory.

~~~~~~~~~

He couldn’t discuss it with Ron for obvious reasons. Or Hermione, for that matter. It was a couple of days after what he would thereafter refer to as “the incident” that he was downing pints in the Leakey with a morose look on his face. Being surrounded by interested friends was not part of his plan for the evening. Yet somehow he found Seamus, Luna and Neville sitting across from him. Word had gotten around that he and Ginny had broken up. He didn’t want to know what people were saying, and he was determined not to talk about it.

To anyone.

“So why did you break up with Ginny?” Seamus asked, grinning. Neville made a strangled noise of embarrassment.

Luna gave him a small smile. “Don’t worry, Harry. We don’t really need to hear the details. Isn't that right, Neville?” Neville nodded vigorously. Luna continued to give him dreamy, yet uncanny looks.

At some point after his third pint he looked across to the bar and saw Dean give him a small, sad nod. Not ten minutes later he saw Michael Corner at another table, who also gave him a nervous nod. His eyes snapped back to Seamus, who was still grinning madly.

Fuck.

They all knew!

“You know, Harry. You might think about taking a break from women for a while. Have you ever considered men?”

Harry’s jaw dropped open and he simply gaped at Seamus, who took the opportunity to toss in an almond.

“What’s that called, a home dunk?”

~~~~~~~~~

Turned out that everyone but Harry had known for ages that Ginny was a superfreak in bed. The reason he hadn’t known became obvious when he sat down to think about it sober. Ron was his best friend, and no one would dare tell her brother. By extension that somehow seemed to include him.

And Seamus would not let up about it. Being partnered with him for Auror training was making Harry’s life a strange, special sort of hell. An annoying, sandy one with lots of snickering and bad jokes. Scratch that. An extremely fit and attractive annoying, sandy one. It had been a long couple of months. Harry never imagined that he’d notice something like how mouth watering Seamus was. Mouthwatering? Fuck.

A lot can change, apparently.

It was all the git’s fault in the first place. Ever since he’d made that crack about switching teams, Harry was unable to get the idea out of his head. At first he was just having an innocent look-see. But he kept looking. More than once he caught himself checking out the other blokes in the showers after PT. He nearly got caught by Smith while watching him get dressed. If Seamus hadn’t been walking in the door behind Smith just as he looked up, well, Harry would have had no excuse. And Zacharias kind of hated him, so he was pretty sure he’d narrowly avoided being punched.

His nightly wanks were now completely different. Blokes kept popping into his head every time he had a bash. Eventually he decided that it didn’t matter because there wasn’t anyone performing legilimency on him these days. He gave in and started imagining other blokes blowing him off. Then he imagined doing it to them. Not only were his fantasies now full of men - specifically, being under them getting well fucked - but his orgasms were the most satisfying he’d ever had.

And the one person who appeared most often was none other than bloody Seamus Finnigan. The one person who he had to spend hours on end with. He was loathe to call it an unfortunate crush, even if only to himself, but that’s exactly what it was. One with no possible outcome but embarrassment and frustration.

Now he had their first training spar to look forward to. Full body contact. Harry was slightly concerned about this.

“Guess what I just heard.” Seamus was clearly bursting at the seams to tell him something. He was practically dancing with glee.

“And what would that be, then?” Harry asked, genuinely curious.

“Ginny’s been seeing Malfoy for over a month! Luna just told me last night! Can you believe it? Do you think he lets her–”

Harry cut him off rather abruptly.

“Stop right there. I’ve no interest in whatever you were going to say. Let’s just do this, okay? Kingsley’s looking over here.”

“Whatever you say, mate,” he replied. “So. Any nuggets of wisdom to share with me before I beat the shit out of you?”

And the fucker winked.

“When I pound you into the mat, just remember not to fall like a fecking dropped log, yeah?”

“Shut it, Seamus.”

“What’s wrong? Let’s get our fight on.”

Harry rolled his eyes.

“But try not to be so anal about the rules.”

“Seamus,” Harry growled.

“Merlin Harry, calm yourself. You look like you’re gonna chuck a bludger!”

The vein in the side of his neck pulsed visibly.

“Look, I’m sorry, okay? Let’s just spar and be done with it. I’ll even get you a beer after. But if you lose it’s your treat. Unless you want to spend a knut on me o’course. Because I’m not into that.”

“Seamus. I will hex you.”

Seamus raced for the door. “Just a minute. I’ve gotta see a man about a hippogriff.”

~~~~~~~~~

True to his word, Seamus did in fact pound Harry into the mat.

Repeatedly.

With lots of gripping and slamming and thrusting. And by Godric, Harry liked it.

He found himself flat on his back being straddled by a very winded and sweaty Seamus. Harry felt strong knees gripping his hips, big hands holding down his shoulders. He let his body go slack as his mind wandered into inappropriate territory. Hot, sticky, fuck he smells so good territory.

“Are you letting me win?” Seamus asked skeptically.

“Er.”

“Merlin, you are!”

“Am not.” Harry felt his face heat up.

“Why in the fuck would you do that?” Seamus cocked an eyebrow and shifted slightly, making to get up.

He froze.

“Harry.”

“...”

“Is that what I think it is?”

“...”

Seamus nodded to himself.

“I win this time ‘round, I think.” And with a shit-eating grin he stood and headed for the showers.

Harry had absolutely no idea what to make of what just happened.

~~~~~~~~~

Seamus tapped Harry on the back as he was tying his shoe.

“Oh. Er. Hello?” Harry flushed.

“Still up for that drink?” Seamus was acting completely normal.

“Okay.”

Harry was grateful that Seamus seemed willing to forget what happened. They headed for the atrium to Floo to the pub.

“I could really use one. I just had the best wank, I’m a fecking puddle. A pint would be perfect right about now.”

Harry’s blinked and stuttered out, “W-what? A pint, yeah.” He nodded stupidly.

Seamus had just wanked?

As they walked, Harry brought up Quidditch, always a safe topic, and Seamus took to the subject.

“Come on, Arundell’s been having a fantastic year. He’s blocked more Quaffles than Wood!”

“Yeah, but he was crap before this season, and I wouldn’t put it past him to be taking potions, if you know what I mean,” Seamus shot back.

“Oh, now that’s just low. You’ve no idea what you’re talking about. Is it so unbelievable that the Cannons might finally be up for a win?”

“Ah, yer just saying that because you fancy him, is all,” Seamus replied dismissively.

“I most certainly do not!”

“If I were you, I wouldn’t give him a second glance. Now the Kenmare Keeper... You could crack a walnut with that arse.”

The Kenmare Keeper was a bloke, so it occurred to Harry - as it had more than once already - that perhaps Seamus was flirting in some bizarre, roundabout way. Once they were seated with their beer, the conversation became even weirder.

“Ahhh, perfect. But you’re still paying. You lost even if you did get something out of it, right?”

“Stop taking the piss!” he snapped back. “It happens, you know that!” Fuck. If he was going to get hard every time they trained together he had a huge problem. Or at least a medium sized one.

He glared at Seamus, who simply grinned back. With dimples.

Harry was doomed.

“It looked to me like you were taking my suggestion seriously.” He made a serious face but his eyes continued to laugh.

“You’re such a bloody tosser,” Harry grumbled.

Seamus seemed to consider that for a moment. “Yeah. I suppose I am,” he shrugged.

~~~~~~~~~

Every day for the rest of the week Seamus suggested going out for a pint. On the one hand, Harry could simply take it as a friendly gesture. Two friends who worked together developing a routine.

On the other...

He didn’t know how discreet he could actually be while drinking in a pub. He was almost positive that Seamus had caught him checking out his arse while he was getting drinks from the bar. But Seamus never acted differently at all. He still occasionally made truly awful jokes about Ginny, but the thrill seemed to have gone for the most part in that department.

Instead, he was behaving strangely considerate to Harry, who was more than a little suspicious of this new development. It was as though he was being buttered up, and it reminded him far too much of the twins for his liking. The one bright side was that Seamus had yet to make any mention or reference at all to Monday’s untimely erection.

Finally, Friday came. They went out for drinks, as had become usual, and his one pint somehow turned into five. Seamus, who had long ago switched to Firewhiskey, was already beyond the singing phase of his drunkenness. Harry was still laughing at Seamus’s story about his one and only date with Luna.

“I can’t believe that she suggested that. No wait. I can,” Harry managed.

“Yeah. Thank Merlin I hadn’t been to the greengrocer in weeks.”

“I’m surprised she didn’t offer to transfigure one.”

“I don’t suppose it would have been so bad if she’d wanted me to – ah, but there’s only so much mention of girl bits I can take.”

Harry blinked. What?

“What?”

“What what, Harry?”

“No, what did you just say?”

“What?”

Harry shook his head, exasperated.

“No, before that!”

“Oh,” Seamus replied. “I said that I’m not so much into the girl bits?”

“Right. That. Does that mean that you-”

“Fecking hell, Harry! D’ye mean you didn’t know I’m bent?” Seamus gaped at him. “I knew you were dense, but you’re completely oblivious!”

Harry flushed. “Well, no one said,” he interjected.

“No one tells you anything, do they? You couldn’t figure it out for yourself, then? A man must have to club you on the head and drag you back to his cave,” Seamus chuckled, shaking his head. “In fact-”

“Er.” Harry was desperately trying to recover and think of something suave to say, but he was a little too sloshed to come up with anything witty.

Suddenly he felt a leg brush his own under the table.

He looked up and saw that Seamus was no longer laughing. In fact, he was burning a bloody fucking hole into him with his eyes. Harry’s mouth went dry.

“You have to come with me. Back to my flat.”

He couldn’t be serious.

“Now,” he elaborated.

He was.

“Uh, sure? Yeah, that’ll be alright.”

Seamus stood and fairly dragged Harry to the Floo.

Once inside, Seamus pounced. Harry found himself flat on his back, once again being straddled by a randy, sandy haired, very fit bloke. His stiffy was on prominent display through his trousers, and Seamus thrust his own hardness against him as he clawed at Harry’s clothes.

It felt incredible! And it got even better when he started to talk.

“I’m gonna make you forget all about your legend of a girlfriend.”

Harry was absolutely okay with that. One hundred percent.

“Gonna bend you over and fuck you ‘til you scream.”

Harry moaned.

“But first I’m gonna suck you.”

He was pretty certain that this was the best thing that had ever happened to him. Getting his Hogwarts letter, defeating Voldemort? No. Those things pretty much paled in comparison to the feeling of Seamus’s tongue in his mouth, on his nipples, between his legs.

That tongue saying those filthy, gorgeous things to him.

Seamus gave fantastic head, he decided. And he was sure that when Seamus pulled off him and wanked him to completion all over his stomach and chest that that was as erotic as it could get.

He was wrong of course. The experience was soon eclipsed when he was pulled onto all fours and prepared with slick fingers, Seamus kissing his back and biting his buttocks.

“Merlin,” Harry grunted between thrusts of Seamus’s fingers, “you’re so bloody - unh! - good at that!” It was a delicious rhythmic throb with every slip slide, but he wanted more.

“Oh, fuck, put it in me,” he babbled.

“If you say so,” Seamus replied in a strangled voice.

He felt his hot breath and moist lips leave his back, and when Seamus gently thrust into him and gradually worked up to pounding him into the fucking floor, well. That was best of all.

~~~~~~~~~

After, Harry traced lines up Seamus’s back as they lay on the floor together.

“You should know,” he whispered, “that–”

“What is it?”

Harry exhaled. “I was just going to say that, that letting you anywhere, um. Uh, anywhere near my arse, well at all. I, I reckon it must mean that I trust you. Yeah.”

“On some deep, important, really meaningful level?” Seamus asked, his expression serious.

“Well, if you want to be so–” Seamus’s silent laughter was causing his back to shake.

“You’ll never stop taking the piss, will you?” Harry asked, laughing.

“Well, you make it so fecking easy.”

He watched silently as Seamus’s eyes drifted closed, though he continued to mumble.

“Your arse is feckin’ spectacular, but next time you should do me. And we shouldn’t be so shitfaced, either.”

Harry rolled his eyes, which was something he was going to have to get used to.

Seamus shivered slightly. “I’m chilly, but I don’t wanna move. Get me a blanket?”

“‘Course,” Harry replied.

He stared at Seamus for a moment. He looked almost innocent on the verge of sleep like that.

“What are you waiting for? Go on, scat.”

Harry slapped his bottom affectionately and shook his head.

“Arsehole.

The Perks of Owning an Invisibility Cloak

Thu, 10 Apr 2008 01:34:31 GMT

Possibly the filthiest thing I've ever written.

Title: The Perks of Owning an Invisibility Cloak
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 5600
Warnings: Underage (16 yrs.); voyeurism; threesomes; money shots.
Summary: Sirius/Remus, James/Right Hand, Sirius/Remus/James. James finds an unexpected use for his invisibility cloak.
Disclaimers: I am not J.K. Rowling, obviously.
Notes: The fact that they're 16 is due to a plot technicality that I couldn't be arsed to change. They could easily be 17 instead, if you'd like to consider it AU. Written for hp_valensmutfor xylodemon. Thanks to midnightblue88and goneoffthelumpfor the beta and encouragement.

James didn't mean to watch. Not the first couple of times, at least. The first time had been an accident. Quidditch practice had been a dismal failure. Lily was sitting in the stands in a bloody ponytail, of all things, and he dropped the Quaffle four times. Four. Absolutely unacceptable for Team Captain. It was completely unfair of her to make him so nervous. When it was all over he was in no fit mood to talk to anyone, so after a shower he donned his invisibility cloak and skulked back to Gryffindor Tower alone.

And he certainly hadn't intended to fall asleep on his bed still wearing the cloak. With the curtains open. He was awoken later when Remus came into the dorm from his shower. James was still a bit sleep-addled, so by the time he'd gotten his wits about him he found himself with no choice but to stay put and wait for Remus to leave the room. Problem solved. Remus, however, was not leaving the room. He wasn't even getting dressed. Instead, he looked around and cast a quick privacy charm. He let out a heavy sigh and turned his searching gaze to the room, his eyes finally resting on Sirius's bed, directly across from the foot of his own and removed the second towel he always wore around his shoulders.

For some reason he couldn't pull his eyes away from Remus's form. Erhaps it was because he simply never let anyone see him like this– he was impossibly modest. He was all pale milky skin, with a smattering of light freckles across the tops of his shoulders. Scars criss-crossed his arms and torso, but somehow managed not to be ugly. He had dark pink nipples that looked to James as though invisible fingers were lightly pinching them. He was simultaneously sinewy yet soft looking. Remus undid the towel around his hips, letting it fall to the sides.

Well, fuck.

James had what he felt to be a perfectly normal curiosity to see Remus's cock.

A little on the small side, actually.

It was completely hidden within its foreskin, resting on balls that looked to be roughly the size of medium chicken eggs. His was certainly bigger.

Despite the unusual opportunity he was presented with to examine another bloke's bits, nothing could have prepared him for what happened next.

Remus sat on the edge of his bed and began to take himself in hand.

Bloody fucking hell!

James watched, transfixed as Remus's cock swelled and lengthened in his hand.

Not so small after all.

Remus licked his hand and continued to stroke, pulling the foreskin back and forth over the head as fluid began to leak from the tip. James found himself inexplicably aroused and moved his hand ever so slowly inside his trousers. He began to wank in time to the rhythm Remus set, turned on well enough by the whole situation. Then Remus began to talk.

"God, Sirius," he began to moan.

...

Surely he'd misheard?

Sirius?!

"Want your mouth on me ...want you to suck it ...want to feel you fuck me so hard ...can't stand ...fuck my arse ...Sirius!"

Remus came all over his hand, and licked it off of one of his fingers, panting heavily.

James, aroused beyond belief in spite of, or possibly because of his shock, came hard at the sight, biting his hand to keep quiet.

~♥~♥~♥~

The second time he really had been looking to get away. It was Saturday afternoon, the day after one of Sirius's disastrous little dates. Remus had been in a snit all day, and Sirius was uncharacteristically quiet. James was glad to get away from them. After a half hour his peace was shattered.

He woke to the sound of Remus charging into the room and throwing open his trunk. He saw Sirius enter quickly behind him and perform locking and silencing charms.

"Remus, tell me what I've done to make you so angry with me," he pleaded.

The look on Sirius's face, so earnest and intense, made James decide to stay put. There was no way he could interrupt something like this.

Remus was mindlessly sorting and tidying his belongings. "I've already told you," he replied in clipped tones. "I'm not angry with you. I just want to be left alone for a little while."

"No," he said softly. His voice took on a quality that James had never heard before. "I want you to tell me what's wrong." He crossed the room to stand behind Remus, and placed a hand on his shoulder. "What's more, I think you want to tell me too."

Remus flinched. "Don't touch me," came his strangled reply. "I can't stand it when you touch me." He sounded to James like he was desperately trying to keep his voice steady.
James was certain this was not the case, but a knot formed in his stomach, nonetheless. Sirius returned his hand to Remus's shoulder.

"But I like to touch you. Remus..."

Remus's breath hitched. "What was that?" He turned around to look at Sirius. James saw that his eyes held confusion, exasperation, and was that a little hope?

Sirius's eyes smoldered, and his voice was rich and low. "You heard me."

"You like... you... oh!"

James watched as Sirius closed the distance between their lips. Their kiss was tentative and soft, just a little awkward, and entirely breathtaking. James felt the knot in his stomach unravel, and something warm bloomed in his chest. It's their first, he realized, startled. His shame gave way to gratitude for being able to witness something so perfect. He thought fleetingly of Lily, and wondered if it would be like that when he finally got to kiss her.

Sirius pulled back and pressed his forehead to Remus's, clasping the other boy's hands in his.

"Now you know my little secret. Can you keep it?" he whispered.

"I should say so. I don't think that we should tell anyone about this. It's bad enough being a werewolf, let alone-"

"I know."

James felt another brief pang of guilt.

"What about all those girls. Sirius?"

"I didn't think you would ever agree for us to be ...like this," he replied softly.

Remus pulled back and fixed him with a serious stare.

"I would. I most definitely would."

This time he kissed Sirius, pressing closer. Sirius's arms encircled him as he backed him up against the bedpost. He began frotting against Remus, their kisses punctuated by breathy gasps and moans.

James felt all the blood in his body rush south. Things were certainly taking an interesting turn.

"I've waited too long to touch you like this. Merlin! Can I?"

"God yes, you bloody daft puppy!" Remus laughed.

Sirius snaked his hands beneath the other boy's pullover, lifting it off and tossing it on the floor.

"Where do you reckon James is?"

"Probably off stalking Lily," replied Sirius distractedly, who was fully engaged in removing Remus's shirt.

Ha bloody ha! Wanker.

Remus was now naked from the waist up, and Sirius gasped. Remus's expression darkened and he made to take back his shirt saying, "I'm sorry, I-"

Sirius stopped his arm.

"Merlin, no!" he exclaimed softly. "You're bloody gorgeous!"

Remus visibly relaxed and Sirius began unbuckling his belt with his hands, while his mouth was busy nibbling on his neck. Remus shivered and let out a soft moan.

"Sirius, what are you planning to do?" he whispered.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" he laughed.

"No, no, tell me. I want to hear you say it," he breathed back.

Sirius growled and kissed him fiercely. From where James was sitting he looked to be devouring his mouth.

"Merlin, do you have any idea what you're doing to me?"

"Tell me, Sirius."

He pushed down Remus's trousers and boxers, and James was presented once again with the sight of that creamy, scarred skin.

"God, you're so beautiful," he began. "I've thought about this so much, rubbed myself raw thinking about it." He started to kiss his way down Remus's chest, taking his cock in his hand and stroking it. "I want to lick you, taste every part of you." Remus shuddered.

"Go on," he demanded.

Sirius's voice shook with excitement. "I'm going to suck you, taste you dripping on my tongue. You'll come in my mouth and I'll swallow it all."

"Oh fuck!" whined Remus.
"Then I'm going to come all over you, on your face and your belly. Everywhere I fucking can. Gonna fucking mark you."

"God...Sirius...suck...suck it...please," he babbled incoherently.

Though the scene was nowhere near over, James came in his pants.

~♥~♥~♥~

The next morning reality came crashing in on James. He had watched his best friends have sex. He watched them in a moment of incredible intimacy. He'd violated their trust on some basic level. He'd watched Sirius suck Remus's cock 'til he screamed.

He wanted more.

He could barely face them at breakfast. As Sirius sat next to him in his usual spot, jabbering on about ideas for their next prank, all James could think about was what he'd seen. If he didn't start acting normal the two of them would surely notice.

"What say you, James?" asked Sirius just before stuffing another piece of toast into his mouth. "Reemush heah fiks suh gooh iyeah."

"Sirius, don't do that, it's disgusting," Remus admonished, smiling. He didn't normally smile when he admonished! Everything suddenly seemed to be changing.

"You two are getting on again, eh?" James couldn't help but ask.

A faint flush rose in Remus's cheeks, and Sirius choked a little before swallowing the rest of his toast.

"Yes, yes, there was nothing wrong in the first place. I just had a headache yesterday, that's all," Remus answered.

"That's right," Sirius nodded. "I've convinced him to take Pomfrey up on the headache potion she keeps offering him. The minx. Anything to get on your good side, eh Remus?" And he winked.

James felt sad somehow. Private jokes, sex…soon they wouldn't need him for anything at all.

"Ouch! What the buggering fuck was that for, Padfoot?" cried Peter.

"What?" asked James.

"Sirius just bloody well kicked my leg under the table!"

"So sorry, Peter, it seems my aim is off. I meant to kick your nuts, you see," Sirius replied glibly.
Footsie under the table.

James had never felt left out before, but there was a first time for everything, he supposed.

"Well, aren't you just a... fuck. I'm off," said Peter as he stalked ahead of the others to class.

"I could give a rat's arse, Wormtail."

Remus groaned.

"Oh, lay off him, Sirius," James grumbled.

Sirius rolled his eyes and grabbed another piece of toast. "Pfft."

~♥~♥~♥~

The next few weeks passed in a bit of a blur for James. Try as he might, he just couldn't help himself. He was getting to know their routine and following them around in an effort to catch them fucking. He was sick. He needed to be stopped. He was a pervert. He was having the best bloody wanks!

He noticed that Sirius started showering later, and realized that meant that he and Remus must be in there together. He started staking out the shower in his cloak, and was rewarded by witnessing several astonishing blow jobs, a couple involving fingers! James had never considered trying such a thing before, but after seeing Sirius writhe and gasp to the rhythm of Remus's fingers, well, he was more than happy to try it when he wanked on his own.

He saw them frot in their clothes behind the broomshed several times. They'd each wrap a hand around their cocks with a lubrication charm, their fingers laced together. Somehow this act was the one that he looked forward to most of all because of the way they never really stopped kissing the entire time.

He saw Remus get fucked in the arse once. Sadly, he missed all but the main event because he'd gone and fallen asleep and only woke because of the grunting.

He wanted more.

~♥~♥~♥~

His main focus was on catching them together in the prefects' bath. He knew that they'd been there together. They problem was that he wasn't a prefect, and getting in before they arrived would take some research. Nothing he couldn't handle, of course. A marauder was made for that sort of thing.

He went with the most obvious solution. He stalked Richards, the 5th year prefect, over the weekend until he went to take a bath, then followed him in his cloak to the fifth floor and stayed to listen to the password. Now he knew where to go and how to get in, he only needed the when. His opportunity came the following weekend. It was less than a week until everyone left for Christmas, so they were obviously looking for an opportunity to have some uninterrupted time alone before James and Sirius left.

James overheard Remus mutter something about having a bath when they thought no one was paying any attention. As soon as they both pretended to turn in, James ran out of the portrait hole, threw on his cloak and raced to the prefects' bath. He went to one of the stone benches by the wall and opened his fly in anticipation.

After barely 5 minutes Remus and Sirius arrived.

They locked the door, and Sirius began shucking off all his clothing as quickly as possible. Remus, on the other hand, was taking his time, watching Sirius intently. James had to admit, Sirius was quite impressive to look at. His muscles were defined but not bulky. Lean, really. And graceful. His skin was pale in a different from Remus's. More of a swarthy paleness, with dark hair fanning out on his chest, trailing down his stomach to a thatch of dark curls where his cock bobbed, already half hard. It was quite a nice cock, really.

I'm still bigger, though, he preened inwardly.

"Hurry up, I want to kiss it," demanded Sirius impatiently. Remus continued to undress painstakingly slowly. His voice when he spoke was rough and low.

"I love it when you kiss it. And when you-" he broke off, looking down.

Sirius's face lit up like it was Christmas. "When I what, Remus?" he purred, crossing over to help him undress. "When I what?"

"You bloody well know what." Remus muttered irritably. "I don't have to say it."
"But Remus, darling," Sirius replied, unbuckling Remus's belt, "You love it so much when I say it. What if I'd like to hear you tell me? Tell me and I'll do it," he whispered.

Remus blushed and nodded, leaning into Sirius's assault on his neck.

"I love it when you kiss it and suck on my balls."

James was in heaven.

"I love it when you lick me there," he gasped as Sirius bit down on his nipple.

"I love it when I lick you there, too," he growled.

Lick him where, exactly? James was slightly confused.

"Sirius, tell me what to do." Remus, now completely naked, sighed as the other boy licked and nibbled his way down his stomach.

"Follow me." He led Remus to the tub and started the taps. He chose the tap with clear fragrant water that smelled of bergamot.

He sat Remus at the edge of the tub and engulfed his cock with his mouth. James stifled the urge to moan aloud as he always did when he saw this happen. He imagined what it would be like to have a mouth wrapped around his cock, hot and wet, with his fingers tangled in someone's hair.

"Love when you suck me. Love your mouth," Remus babbled. Sirius raised his head.

"Turn around and bend over the edge. I want to taste you."

At that point James didn't need to worry about making any noise, because he was frozen with shock. He also couldn't feel his extremities because all of his blood was now exclusively in his groin.

There?!

Sirius parted Remus's cheeks with his hands, and his tongue moved in broad strokes across his hole. Judging by the gasps he was hearing, James decided that it must feel pretty fucking brilliant.

Remus quickly became a gibbering mess. "Fuck me, Sirius."

Sirius whispered a spell and kneeled behind him. James was well and truly turned on by now. He was actually afraid to touch himself for fear he'd come too soon.

Sirius slowly eased himself inside and began a tortuously slow thrust.

"I wish I could watch myself fuck you,"

...thrust

"so I could see everything,"

...thrust

"watch your face, watch you sweat under me,"

...thrust

"see you from every angle,"

...thrust

"or watch someone else fuck you,"

...thrust

"Fuck, Sirius!"

...thrust

"You like that?" he grunted,

...thrust

"me watching while someone else fucks you?"

...thrust

"watching James fuck you?"

...thrust

"Fuck yes, Sirius, harder!"

James's mouth went dry. Merlin! He shuddered as he came all over his fingers, still clasped tightly around his cock.

When his head cleared the two boys were both back in the tub, Remus encircling Sirius from behind. He ran his wet lips back and forth over Sirius's shoulder in an almost hypnotic fashion before leaning forward to press them against Sirius's earlobe.

"I love hearing you describe everything to me."

He pulled Sirius back further into his arms. "It's so bloody hot, you've no idea," he whispered.

"Yes, although..."

"What?"

"Well, the real thing would be pretty hot as well," Sirius ventured.

"..."

"Don't you think so?"

Remus was silent for a moment, and seemed to be pondering the question seriously. "I suppose it would, yes."

James's pulse quickened. Could they really be considering...?

"Of course," Remus continued, "I'd have to be pretty well sloshed first. Can you imagine?" He began to laugh.

"I suppose you would. So would James. He's straight as an arrow, have to be completely drunk."

"True," Remus laughed. "Although... have you noticed the way he looks at us sometimes? There are moments when I'd almost swear he knows."

James felt the blood rush from his face.

"No," Sirius replied. "If he knew, I'd know it. But he has been acting strangely lately."

James relaxed a bit as he listened to them talk and finish their bath, and continued to watch as they helped each other dry off.

"Dry my hair?" Sirius asked. "You're better at it than I am. I make it frizzy."

"Of course, we can't have that. Sirius Black does not have frizzy hair
," replied Remus.

The scene was charmingly domestic, and at times like this more than any others, James felt the most like a voyeur. He wanted to be a part of it. Even if just once.

He knew then what he was going to do.

~♥~♥~♥~

He'd made some preparations already. Sneaking into Hogsmeade that night for a few bottles of firewhisky was the easy part. How to convince his parents to let the two of them stay at Hogwarts for Christmas was the real problem. Serendipity arrived in the form of an owl from his parents a couple of days later telling him that they were so very sorry, but they had to visit his detested Aunt Wilhelmina in Wales, and would he and Sirius prefer to stay at Hogwarts over the holidays?

James knew the answer to this one. Of course, Sirius tried to contain his obvious joy at the news, but since James had similar reasons for being pleased, he too feigned disappointment before enthusiastically making plans for Christmas with Remus at Hogwarts.

"You know what would be better than that, even?" asked James. "I snuck into Hogsmeade the other night and got some firewhisky. We should get thoroughly smashed."

He eyed Sirius carefully, awaiting his response. Sirius cocked an eyebrow and considered him thoughtfully for a moment.

"I must say, James, I'm impressed. How did you get it?"

"I flirted with Rosmerta," he mumbled.
Sirius whooped. "Haha! Right little Casanova, you are! Very well, we'll get gloriously sloshed! Brilliant! I'll just go find Remus and tell him."

James watched him run up to the dormitory and resisted the urge to follow.

~♥~♥~♥~

"Well, James, my boy, this is truly vile stuff."

Sirius reclined against the footstool Remus was resting his legs on. Remus lounged in the chair with a happy grin on his face as James sat across from them on the floor. After several shots a piece they were all well relaxed, and tongues were beginning to loosen. James poured out another into each glass.

It was time.

"So," began James. "How about a little game?"

"What kind of game?" asked Sirius.

"Truth," he replied.

Remus perked up, surprised, and fixed James with an interested stare. Sirius looked up at Remus and then back to James.

"Well, I suppose..."

"Well, we're best mates, right? We have nothing to hide from each other, do we?" He let his calculated gaze fall on Sirius, who flushed and shook his head.

"'Course not, do we? Remus?"

He looked to Remus and seemed to be seeking approval for something. Remus looked back and nodded with a small smile.

Score one for James.

"Well then, who will go first?" asked Remus, placing a hand on Sirius's shoulder.

"I will," said James quickly.

Now or never.

He paused, eyeing them both carefully. They both seemed to hold their breath.

"Remus, describe, if you would, the nature of your relationship with Sirius."

Sirius's gaped, his eyes widened to the size of saucers. Remus, however, didn't miss a beat.

"We're fucking," he explained, his eyes never leaving James. "And, correct me if I'm wrong, Sirius, we're in love. At least, I am."

Sirius was flabbergasted, but he quickly recovered, giving Remus a dopey grin. He then fixed James with a defiant stare as he took Remus's hand in his own. "No, you're right." His eyes blazed, daring James to say something.

James shook his head lightly and smirked at them. His palms were sweating, and his pulse was racing. He took a deep breath and continued his attack.

"No. That's not what I asked. I said describe it to me."

Sirius looked confused, his eyes flitting back and forth between the other two. Remus, on the other hand... James watched comprehension make its way across his face.

James gulped down the last of his drink and quickly poured another.

"Describe it to me. W-what... what you two do. T-together," he stammered. His nervousness was quickly getting the upper hand.

"Are you-" Sirius broke off. "Are you asking-"

"He wants us to tell him about how we fuck, Sirius," Remus said smoothly.

"Er, yeah, tha's'right," James nodded, blushing, splashing whisky over his hand.

"You want to hear about how Sirius takes my clothes off slowly, kissing and biting his way down my body?"

James shivered. Sirius's eyes were clouded with admiration and lust as he watched Remus speak.

"Or how he nuzzles at me before licking my balls, teasing me with his moist breath above my cock until I can't feel anything else? How he sucks at me slowly, taking my cock into his hot, wet mouth as far as he can until my come is dribbling down the sides of his mouth?"

James was harder than he'd ever been in his entire short life, and he made no attempt to hide it. He glanced at Sirius to find him much the same. Sirius looked like he was ready to devour Remus at any moment. And holy hell, he just kept going!

"Perhaps you'd like to hear how Sirius comes all over my belly, or how he fucks me so hard sometimes I need a healing charm?" Remus's voice was low and seductive as he described these things, and to hear him speak that way for him was indescribable. James's breath was erratic and his eyelids fluttered.

"Or maybe he'd like to see it for himself, Remus."

Sirius pulled Remus down to the floor and straddled him across his lap. Remus grinned at James and pulled Sirius into a kiss. He watched them nibble and suck on each others lips, tasting, savoring the kiss. He watched it deepen until their mouths were practically glued together. He listened to their little sighs and moans amid the sound of their breaths coming deep and shaky from their noses. [sounds weird].

James palmed himself through his trousers. Seeing them like this was so different, so very different to watching them unaware. They were doing this for him, inviting him to watch them. Now if only...

"Do it, Remus," Sirius breathed into his neck.

"Only if you're certain," he breathed back. Sirius nodded and Remus reached a hand across to James. "You can join us ...if you want to," he whispered.

"Just this once?" he clarified. Remus nodded. James's heart pounded in his chest. He could taste the tang of desire on his tongue
as he lifted his hand to reach back.

Remus's fingers were warm, his palms moist as he pulled James toward them.

"Kiss him, Sirius," he commanded. James felt a knot form in his throat.

"Kiss Sirius..." he faltered. Amazingly enough, that scenario had never occurred to him in his imaginings. He'd always pictured kissing Remus, somehow. What will it feel like, I wonder?

Remus moved around behind him and began rubbing his shoulders through his t-shirt, pressing kisses behind his ear. James began to relax, thoroughly enjoying the shivery feeling he got from Remus's feather-soft kisses. As he leaned back into the touch, Sirius reached up and began to remove his glasses, his fingertips lightly brushing against James's cheekbones. Sirius set them aside and began to massage the sides of James's scalp with strong fingers before he leaned in. His breath was spicy from the firewhisky, and with the first tentative touch of his lips, James melted. He opened his mouth slightly, letting Sirius's tongue slide in to stroke his own. It was wet, it was warm, and it was fantastic. No wonder they spent so much time doing this!

As the kiss deepened, he felt Remus begin to lift his t-shirt up and help slide his arms out of the sleeves. Sirius broke off to toss it to the side, then returned to kissing James. When Remus pressed back against him his shirt was gone as well. The feeling of his warm, scarred skin against his back was amazing. He felt Remus brush a thumb across one of his nipples, as another hand caressed his belly...fingers working towards the button of his denims.

Sirius pulled away and stood up, removing his own shirt and trousers, leaving him clad in nothing but his boxers. He knelt back down and kissed James's neck, finishing the job Remus had started with his fly.

"Let's go to my bed," suggested Remus. Sirius grabbed James's hand and walked him over, helping him remove the rest of his clothing before he pushed him down to sit on the edge of the bed. When Remus joined them again James was startled to realize that they were all naked.

Sirius grinned down at him. "Don't be nervous. We won't do anything you don't want to do." Remus sat down next to James and spoke in a low voice into his ear.

"Do you want one of us to suck you?" He began to nibble on James's neck, and at that moment something in James snapped. He grabbed Remus's shoulders and pushed him back onto the pillows, straddling him in one quick motion.

"Do it, please."

He gasped as he felt Remus's hot mouth close over his cock. It was so much better than he'd imagined. He hadn't counted on the fingertips trailing up his sides, or Sirius's erection pressing against the small of his back as he held his hip and cupped his balls. Remus let him make short, gentle thrusts into his mouth, sucking gently as his tongue massaged the underside of his cock. So many sensations, it was glorious! He was going to...

"I think I'm gonna-"

He felt himself pulled back from Remus a bit and Sirius's hand was suddenly wrapped around his cock, pumping.

"I want to see you come on him," he rushed out, voice shaking with excitement. Sirius continued to frot against his cleft as he wanked him, and as James came in thick, pearly spurts over Remus's chest and face, he felt wetness spread over his lower back and begin to slide down his cleft.

Suddenly he felt Sirius's tongue frantically licking it off him with quick broad strokes of his tongue. He felt his cheeks spread as Sirius thoroughly lapped it away. He then moved quickly around to Remus's side and began licking James's come off of Remus. He watched them both in amazement and arousal, Sirius's pink tongue working excitedly, Remus's eyes fluttering as he tried to catch his breath. To his surprise, he felt himself hardening again.

Remus was still hard as a rock, his cock dark pink and pulsing up and down as he breathed. James couldn't help himself...before he even thought about what he was doing he bent down and began to lick the length of it. He heard Remus whimper, and when he looked up, Sirius was on his haunches staring wide-eyed. Emboldened, James gripped it and put the tip in his mouth. He remembered seeing Sirius kiss and suckle the head before, so he tried it. Remus sighed loudly, tangling his fingers in James's hair. He saw the motion of Sirius bending over to kiss Remus, and he began to suck in earnest.

Sirius's next words broke him out of his concentration and made all the blood rush quickly back to his groin.

"I want to watch you fuck Remus." Sirius's eyes smoldered, and Remus's fluttered open and locked onto James.

"I'd like you to," he gasped out. "If you want to."

James got to his knees. "Yeah...Merlin!...yes...fuck," he stammered.

Remus made to move to his hand and knees, but Sirius stopped him.

"No. Like we usually do it."

Remus nodded and laid back down, looking up at Sirius.

James became unsure. "I don't know what to do."

"Don't worry. Sirius will talk you through it," Remus quietly assured him. "Come here."

With that, he drew James down into a soft kiss, letting his hand wander up and down his back. Remus tasted nice, too. Rather like the chocolate he'd been eating earlier. James sighed into the kiss, gently feeling his way around Remus's mouth with his tongue.

"Kiss his neck," Sirius breathed. "Bite his nipples."

The look on Sirius's face was positively feral, his voice low and gravely, and James shivered at the thought of taking direct orders like this. He nibbled and sucked on one nipple, then the other, hearing Remus's little moans of pleasure.

"Lick his balls," Sirius continued. "He loves that." James nuzzled and sucked on Remus's sac, pulling gently with his teeth and laving them with broad strokes until the boy beneath him was a quivering mess.

"Lift up his knees and wet your thumb." James did so and began to rub it against Remus's opening. Sirius grabbed his wand off the nightstand and whispered something.

"Give me your hand." He smeared a warm jelly around James's fingers. "Slide one in, slowly. Then another and another." As James began finger-fucking Remus he heard Sirius breathing erratically. He loved that he somehow understood what he was feeling.

"Fucking hell," Sirius moaned in a strangled voice. "Fuck him...now...do it...oh gods."

James stroked himself quickly and positioned himself, sliding in slowly as Remus panted and wrapped his ankles around his back. He began long thrusts, pulling out slowly and thrusting back in. His cock was enveloped in the most velvety tightness, and Remus was making the most delicious noises.

"Harder, James," Remus choked out.

"Hold his legs over his shoulders," Sirius rambled, manically stroking himself. "So hard...fucking love you, Remus...faster...oh god!" Sirius came shaking, falling onto James as he continued to pump and thrust. Then he grabbed Remus's cock and pulled to James's rhythm. James's arse was sore and exhausted, but he was close...so close.

Just one more.

His hips shook as he emptied himself into Remus's tight arse, and Remus followed quickly. He looked down to see Sirius gazing at Remus with worshipful adoration, stroking his hair back from his face, whispering that he loved him.

James once again felt like an intruder. He stood up awkwardly, and tried to act casual as he looked for his glasses. As he put them on and turned around, he saw Remus and Sirius standing right there behind him.

"Thank you, James," said Remus, smiling.

"Yes, that was bloody incredible!" Sirius piped in. "You don't regret any of this, do you?" he asked with a light look of worry.

James shook his head and grinned. The others looked extremely relieved.

Regret? Hardly. Though he wasn't quite sure when all was said and done who had really seduced whom. That was something he'd puzzle over for a long time to come. And for one brief moment he was terrified that nothing would ever live up to this experience. Ever.

It suddenly occurred to him that he'd never spied on the girls' showers.

Housesitting - Neville/Seamus

Wed, 09 Apr 2008 15:41:42 GMT

Rating: NC-17
Summary: Seamus plant-sits for Neville and makes some rather interesting discoveries.
Warnings: Plants with names!
Word Count: ~3900
Author's Notes: hp_springsmut entry written for

coffee_n_cocoa. Thanks to midnightblue88 and goneoffthelump for the support and guidance.

Housesitting

Let it not be said that Seamus Finnigan was not open minded.

Sure, it may have looked that way to some in the past, but that was only because his first loyalty was always going to be to the people he'd known the longest– and no offense to Harry, but he did look a nutter fifth year. Everyone thought so.

Seamus, however, proved himself quite fit for the fight come seventh year. He was Neville's second in command and rather chuffed when he'd not lacked for birds since. A female magnet. He wasn't, after all, a bad looking bloke. He trained. He was funny. Witty. An excellent shag. He had to fight them off.

Not really. He usually let them have their way, actually.

Since then he'd been working as an Auror, sharing a flat with Dean. Well, Dean and Hannah, to be exact. She seemed to be over all the time. It was one thing when it was usually a different bird every week. No chance to get into a routine, and novelty is always good, but Dean had been seeing Hannah for months now, and it seemed like Wednesday evenings were the only time Seamus saw Dean by himself anymore. It was a shame, really. Women were such a drain of a bloke's energy.

Harry had been married to Ginny for a couple of years now, and Ron was engaged to Hermione, but he'd honestly never paid much attention to how well Neville pulled. Seamus supposed that's why what ultimately happened turned out to be a bit of a surprise. Hell, no one in their right mind would have guessed it. Well. Dean, maybe.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Every Wednesday the blokes would meet up at the Leaky. Seamus, Dean, Ron, Harry and Neville. Sometimes former D.A. people would happen by and join them. Once, even Draco Bloody Malfoy had a drink with them, but that's another story entirely.

So one February evening they were all sitting around having a pint, and Neville was telling them about his upcoming trip to Norway with Luna. Not recreational, as it happened, though they did tease him a lot about his business partner. Except Dean, for some reason. Neville kept studying Herbology after Hogwarts, and he and Luna had a nice little arrangement. She'd scout new exotic plants and he'd cultivate them. She got a tip on a rare breed of flesh eating tree that had gender, just outside Oslo. Since it was rather dangerous, Neville thought it best to go with her that trip.

"So what it boils down to is that I need someone to take care of Aggie for me for a couple of weeks starting Saturday, and the other plants as well. Anyone interested?"

Seamus piped up immediately. The idea of a place to himself for a couple of weeks was too good to resist, and Mimbletonias only needed to be sung to once a day. He could manage that.

"I'll take care of her for ya, Nev. But don't be too upset when she prefers me to you," he said with a wink.

"Yes, well, who wouldn't?" Neville replied easily.

Seamus felt his cheeks burn slightly for some reason, and returned, "Dean, for one. S'always with Abbott-"

"Her name's Hannah, Seamus," Dean interjected.

"-and I'd like the privacy. I haven't gotten to walk around starkers in years."

Neville flushed. "You plan to walk around my flat starkers?"

"Well yeah! Don't tell me you've never done it? Merlin, Nev, you're missing out. Fresh air around your bits, getting some old fashioned circulation in the privacy of your own home? I'd be naked all the time if I lived in your flat."

Neville drained his pint quickly, which was something considering that it was almost completely full. He practically knocked his chair over in his haste to get up, clutching his jacket in front of him, and nodded to everyone.

"I'll see you blokes in a few weeks. Saturday morning around 8, Seamus, alright? Thanks, mate."

As he stumbled away, Harry and Dean exchanged a look across the table.

"Did I say something?"

"Nah," Ron piped in. "You know Neville. Looks like your bits will be getting some air then. If he leaves you homebrew, I want you to tell Hermione that you need my help pruning something one evening, yeah?"

Seamus nodded, and put Neville out of his mind for the rest of the evening.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

On Saturday morning, Seamus arrived at Neville's bright and early.

"I really can't thank you enough for doing this," said Neville.

Seamus smiled back. "It's nothing, really. You're doing me a favor, if you want to know the truth."

"How so?" asked Neville, grinning. "Free beer notwithstanding."

"I won't have to eat Hannah food for two whole weeks. Thinks she's a feckin' gourmet, that one. It's tripe. I get to ignore your kitchen and eat takeaway. I'm happy," Seamus replied, enthusiastically.

Neville's expression changed suddenly, and he looked rather pleased with himself, really.

"Well actually, I've already taken care of some of that, too. For the next two weeks you get to order whatever strikes your fancy from the Leaky and Patil's. Breakfast, lunch, dinner. They'll floo it over."

Seamus was flabbergasted, to say the least. He nodded feebly and followed Neville as he walked into the sitting room.

"And there are 3 different kinds of beer in the closet. Don't open it, because I've got it set to cellar temperature and I'd have to redo the charm if you do. There's a pale ale with juniper, a porter that's made with Merlin era yeast that was found on a Saxon ship, and a Belgian-style farmhouse ale that will knock you over if you drink too much of it, so be careful there. If you put your pint glass on any of the tables in the flat and say which one you want it will refill for you. Key is, you have to be able to say it. If you can't then you've been cut off. Works fairly well for me. Work for you?"

"Neville," Seamus managed after picking his jaw back up. "We should probably just run away together, yeah?"

Neville blushed, which Seamus was surprised to find ...cute. His train of thought was interrupted when Neville stuttered out, "I-I-I should probably show you the plants."

After he'd been properly introduced to Aggie and Kitty, a somewhat threatening looking Fanged Geranium, and he'd been talked through the care of all the house plants, Seamus looked around.

"Nev, where's the bedroom?" Seamus raised his eyebrows questioningly.

"Down the hall this way," he replied.

Seamus picked up his duffel, slung it over his shoulder and followed Neville. He was surprised to walk into a rather impressive modern room. The walls were a deep green, calm and fresh. The sort of color that one could fall asleep and happily wake up to. There was a large bed with comfortable looking white linens in the middle of the wall. The chests and tables were painted in a shiny toffee-colored lacquer, and there were mirrored rectangular candle sconces along the walls. What was most impressive was the wall across from the bed. An angular creamy stone hearth with a mirrored wall above was flanked by two enormous bookcases that held what must have been hundreds of books. A shaggy rug and pillows were in front of it.

"Someone likes to read," remarked Seamus.

He glanced at the books and back to Seamus.

"It's not as though I go out much, is it? Bloke's got to have something to do." Seamus's eyes locked with Neville's. For some reason he felt his stomach flip flop, but for the life of him he couldn't understand why. His breakfast had gone down just fine, after all.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He thought about their conversation later on as he wandered about the flat, naked, save his socks.

As he looked around, he realized that this was where Neville spent most of his time. Here, in this flat. Laying around on the couch, reading some book on Herbology with a serious look on his face. Brewing beer in an enormous kettle in the kitchen. Tending to the plants in the sitting room. Scratching his bum as he walked down the hallway.

Seamus was on his fourth pint of ale as he wandered into the bedroom, ready to perhaps get dressed in some pyjamas and give up for the night. He pulled them out of his duffel and eyed them. The soft, warm flannel was appealing, but the warming charms Neville had on his flat made them unnecessary, in Seamus's opinion. He put them back and flopped back onto the bed. There was something soothing about the smell of the linens. Sort of earthy and warm. He wondered idly if Neville charmed them to be relaxing. He forced himself to get up and have a better look around. He picked his bag up and brought it to closet. As he opened it, that same smell wafted out. Seamus inhaled deeply and groaned happily. He loved this smell! It was nice and strangely familiar and–

Seamus looked down at his erection with faint surprise.

Arousing, apparently.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Seamus continued to work, sleep and eat curries until the following weekend. It was Saturday afternoon that he made a disconcerting discovery.

He was drinking again, this time the farmhouse ale that Neville had warned him about. Seamus thought it was lovely. It was ...quaffable. He was enjoying it immensely. After he'd sung a strange little song to Aggie about a hag who fell in love with an elf, he decided to raid Neville's bookshelves. He conjured a fire and began to peruse the shelves.

The left hand case was completely devoted to Herbology. There must have been have been at least a two hundred of them. The one on the right was full of Muggle paperback fiction. There seemed to be a little bit of everything. The bottom two rows were full of oversized art books. Aha! This was where Seamus and his beer needed to be. He knelt down on the floor and began to pull books off the shelves. The first one he opened was full of realistic paintings that depicted men in suits doing strange things with apples and household objects. Seamus shook his head. He continued to peruse, seeing paintings of ships at sea, farm animals, Japanese woodcuts, and some photographs involving people dressed in snack food and naked women walking on eggshells. Seamus was enthralled.

He picked up another and read the title. Men Together Today was written across the spine, and the dust jacket was flat black with nothing on it. Seamus opened it to the middle. There was a black and white photo of two men writhing together on twisted bedsheets. One of them had his hand wrapped around the other's... Seamus snapped it shut in surprise.

Neville had gay pornography.

Seamus felt sweat break out on his upper lip. Perhaps he was sitting too close to the fire. He took another gulp of beer and looked at the book again. He felt his cock twitch. There wouldn't really be any harm in looking, would there?

Neville had gay pornography.

He opened the book again and started from the beginning. One picture showed a beefy brown haired man standing right behind a bent over a sandy blond. Seamus gulped. Another had the same model's lips wrapped around the blond man's cock. The look of ecstasy on the blond's face made Seamus's pulse race. He continued to peruse and sip, and realized that it was rather hot next to the fire like this. He stood up and stripped off. Once presented with his stiffie, it only made sense to have the best wank of his life, to date. And if he happened to think of Neville's lips wrapped around his own cock as he came, well.

He could worry about that when he was sober.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Two things became painfully clear to Seamus after he'd managed to ingest some hangover potion.

First, Neville must be gay. How he'd never realized this was a mystery. Not that he'd ever given it any thought before. But now it occurred to him that Neville got hit on by women just as much as he did, and Neville always turned them away. Seamus had just chalked it up to being a gentleman.

Second, he'd wanked last night thinking of Neville.

This was not something that Seamus had ever considered before. Ever. Never ever. Well, not seriously, anyway. People had teased him and Dean from time to time over the years, but they'd done it to Harry and Ron as well, and if any two were closet cases it was them. Not Seamus and Dean. And he never expected in a million years to think about Neville that way.

Not that he wasn't an attractive bloke. Not at all. During seventh year he really came into his own running the D.A. He began to speak with a quiet authority that people found difficult to question even when they clearly wanted to. He made everyone who went into hiding with them feel safe, and acted with unexpected and sometimes ridiculous bravery while defending others. As a person, Seamus really respected Neville, and felt a real affection for him. He was a bit in awe of him, to be honest.

And physically, well. He lost most of that puppy fat he'd been carrying around. His hair had darkened up considerably since he'd first met him. He was at least a head taller and considerably bigger than Seamus, who was more sinewy and lean. He hauled a lot of dirt about at his greenhouse, did a lot of digging. He was left with a pleasantly round face and a rather muscular, if not slightly barrel-chested upper body. His blue eyes crinkled when he smiled. Strong legs and broad shoulders. His hands were probably rough and he already knew they were large–

Bugger. He had another stiffie. Seamus began to get a little bit nervous at that point, primarily because he was completely sober. And after his second wank imagining Neville's mouth on him, well, frantic became the only appropriate word to describe his state of mind.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Dean. Dean, mate, I've gotta talk to ye RIGHT NOW!"

Seamus was on his knees, shouting with his head stuck through the Floo to his flat. Dean came racing out of his bedroom in his boxers. He'd clearly been in the middle of something, but Seamus couldn't give a fuck.

Really.

"Dean. Have you ever thought that you might be gay?" he asked, his face screwed up in an expression bordering on manic.

"Arse! I'm in my bloody boxers, Seamus!"

Seamus shook his head impatiently. "No, you bastard. I'm not talking about you."

"Hang on," said Dean. "You're at Neville's. You mean you finally figured it out, then?"

"What, that he's gay? Yeah, I'd say I have. I found his art books."

"Art books? What does that have to– ohhh, art books. Got it. And?"

"I dunno. Help me? I'm a bit confused."

Seamus looked utterly forlorn, and Dean took pity on him. A half an hour later they were seated in Neville's kitchen with tea. Seamus hated tea. But he held the cup, and that made him feel slightly calmer.

"So," Dean began. "You think you're bent. Tell me more."

Seamus nearly jumped out of his chair. "Ye can't just say it like that!" But at Dean's skeptical expression he sat back, shoulders slumped. "I've never thought about it before. I mean, I'm not exactly turning the birds away, am I? I can't be. Can I?"

"Well, maybe you're bisexual or something," Dean suggested, calmly. Seamus eyed him warily.

"No, seriously," he went on. "You remember people used to have a go at us and it never bothered me. Not that I'm bent at all, but you've got nothing to worry about from any of your friends. And especially not Neville, mate," he finished with a laugh.

"What d'ye mean by that?"

"I mean that I'd swear on Merlin's beard that he has a crush on you, and has for ages."

Seamus's stomach did another little flip flop. "You're serious? You really think so?" He cleared his throat. "I mean to say– ah feck it. I think I like him."

Dean grinned. "Well, he does brew brilliant beer. Match made in heaven, I'd say."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The rest of the week saw Seamus in the same routine, but with one slight modification. He thought about Neville constantly. He had to buy a tube of lube he was having at it so often. And he went through every book in Neville's flat looking for more porn.

On Monday he found two other books of photographs, one of them wizarding photos, which was especially stimulating and informative.

Tuesday evening he sat in Neville's closet with a pint, just inhaling the scent that he'd realized must be Neville's.

Wednesday found him looking through Neville's photo albums. There was one picture of the two of them taken a couple of years after the war ended. Neville was seated next to him with his arm of the back of Seamus's chair. At several points Neville would glance over at Seamus with a look of longing on his face. Seamus took the picture out and conjured a frame for it. He put it by the bed.

On Thursday he sang Burt Bacharach to the plants and afterwards felt a little bit dirty.

Friday was his last night alone in the flat, so he spent some time gathering up his things and tidying before he took it upon himself to re-pot the Flitterbloom. It looked like it could use it.

On Saturday morning he felt nervous and regretful. He wasn't sure what else to do with himself before Neville got back that night, so he decided to take this final opportunity to walk around starkers. Who knew when he'd get to do that again?

He got himself a pint and turned on the wireless. He lounged on the couch for a bit, had a shower, stared at the plant shelves, had another pint. There was a lot of time to kill before the 8 o'clock Portkey arrived back. Perhaps another look at those art books.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

By 6 o'clock that evening he was singing Besame mucho to Aggie in nothing but his socks, when he caught a whiff of that scent. He breathed in and sighed.

"Sorry for the interruption, Aggie, but I just smelled Neville, and gonna fecking miss that when I go home."

"You'll miss my smell?"

Seamus froze. Neville stepped closer behind him. "You said you'd be walking around naked, but I thought you were taking the piss."

He could feel Neville's breath on his neck.

Breath on his neck.

Oh Merlin.

He was so hard.

He could feel the pull between them. He shot a quick look behind him before snapping his head back to the plants.

"Neville."

"Yes?" Seamus felt a large warm hand on his shoulder.

"You're back early?" He let his neck loll to the side. He felt the breath closer.

"Yeah," Neville replied, his voice a purr. "Do you want me to leave and come back later?"

Seamus exhaled shakily.

"Or I could stay."

"Nev--"

"Say yes," he said, before placing a gentle kiss to the top of Seamus's shoulder. The kisses continued, tentatively up the side of his neck, down the back of it. Seamus was dizzy with the feel of it. His body had never reacted to anything so insignificant as a little kiss so strongly. But from Neville, it seemed, they were anything but insignificant.

"Stay."

Neville closed the few inches left between them and Seamus felt cool denim press against his back.

"If I'd had any idea that this is what I'd be coming home to I would have left much, much earlier," he said, his hands trembling as they ran down the sides of Seamus's arms.

Seamus broke out in gooseflesh and let out a little sigh.

"Until you were gone I had no idea. No idea at all." His head rested on Neville's chest, and he could feel an unmistakable hardness pressed against his lower back.

"And now?"

Seamus's body racked with shudders. Neville grabbed him, arms encircling, warm and strong around him. He felt fingertips run up and down the middle of his stomach, and then a hot callused hand gripped his cock. It was all he could do to keep standing. Thanks to Neville, he didn't have to try very hard.

"Keep doing that. Whatever you do don't stop, or I'm leaving."

Neville's hand pulled his foreskin up and down his length, gripping him around the waist with his other arm. Seamus wanted more.

"Take off your shirt. Please," he panted.

Neville complied quickly, without removing his hand, amazingly enough. Seamus grabbed the shirt from him and held it up against his face, smelling it as Neville slowly pulled.

"I've never done anything like this before," he admitted breathlessly.

"Me neither," came Neville's reply.

"Let's go to the bedroom."

"Oh yeah."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The slide of Neville's tongue as they kissed was amazing. It was a man's mouth, big, demanding, prickly. But it was also Neville's. Seamus couldn't believe the pleasure he was taking from such a simple act.

Despite his admitted lack of experience, Neville was a natural. The feel of him licking up and down Seamus's cock was unbelievably brilliant. He came in such a hurry that he thought for sure Neville would gag, but amazingly he swallowed it all. Seamus was impressed.

"What about you?" he asked. "I kind of want to go slowly, if ye know what I mean."

Neville blushed profusely.

"I'm just as inexperienced as you are at this. You may not have noticed, but I don't really date much."

"At all, you mean," Seamus replied, grinning.

"Wanker." Neville grinned back. "I've a little bit, but I'm all for taking things slowly."

"Well, your bits aren't little, see, and that's exactly why I want to take things slowly," he laughed.

Neville appeared embarrassed and chuffed at the same time, if that was possible.
"I know something we could try. Hold your legs together. Hang on..." Neville reached into the night stand drawer for some lube and Seamus grabbed it out of his hand. He smeared some onto Neville's cock, and watched in fascination as something in Neville seemed to snap.

"Lay down. NOW," Neville commanded.

Seamus had no thought of refusing, and lay down. Neville was on top of him in a flash. He thrust his cock between Seamus's thighs and began thrusting at a frenzied pace. Each stroke pressed behind his balls and into the cleft of his arse, becoming slick with lube. Before he knew it, warm spurts of come were spreading between his arse and the sheets. When Neville kissed him, panting, Seamus was already hard again.

"We're nowhere near done yet," Neville breathed.

Astonishingly, Seamus became even harder.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"How long, Nev?" Seamus carded his fingers through Neville's hair, rubbing and scratching along the way. Neville was draped across him like a blanket.

"A long time," he admitted. "Since seventh year, probably. What about you? What made you consider this?"

"Seven days. But I'm hoping we can keep this up much longer."

He pulled Neville in for a kiss and began to laugh.

"And I found your art books."

"Ah. Did they turn you, then?" he asked, smiling.

Seamus nodded. "Well, them and your beer."

Tue, 27 Nov 2007 02:20:33 GMT

Author: trubbleclef
Title: Happy Christmas
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Usual suspects - rimming, oral, noses, etc.
A/N: This entire thing grew out of a drabble meme and took on a life of its own. I blame and dedicate this to everyone involved. Their messy fingerprints are all over it as follows...

tjwritter - part 1
sabine91175 - part 2
capitu - part 3
goneoffthelump - parts 4a & 4b
midnightblue88 - part 5 and awesome beta
redsnake05 - part 6 and patience

Part 1
**O_O**

Ron met Hermione for drinks at the Leaky on a very blustery evening. It had been a rough week leading up to Christmas, and he was completely knackered from shopping all by himself. Harry was at home recovering from a nasty Confundus spell that had got thrown at him while tracking down a leftover Death Eater. Most of the effects had worn off, but since he still had to be reminded to put his shoes on, Ron was left to shop alone for Christmas gifts.

After a few relaxing pints of ale, Ron was feeling very comfortable indeed. Hermione had told him the whole story about a very badly transfigured chicken brought into the Magical Creatures department, and once they’d both stopped laughing they noticed that Seamus had come up to the table. Hermione started blushing, and Ron sniggered.

“Hello there, Seamus. You here all by yourself?”

“Hey Ron, Hermione. Oh, you know.” Seamus shrugged. “Just stopped in for a pint. How’s Harry holding up?”

“Really well, thanks. He’s almost back to normal, for Harry.” Ron looked at Hermione and thought he’d do his hopeless friend a favor. “Actually, I should probably be getting back to him. I haven’t been home since lunch. Why don’t you stay and keep our Hermione here company? She’s just getting started. Tell him about the chicken.”

Hermione’s faint pink color grew to a deeper flush as she nodded. “That would be fine with me.”

“Well then, it’s settled,” smiled Seamus as Ron rose from his seat. “You go on home - and do Harry a favor, don’t get him too shagged out for the holiday. Let the man recover, yeah?” he smirked.

“Yeah, yeah. Wait, what?” Ron felt certain he’d missed something. But Seamus was already asking Hermione if she’d like to go down the street to the Patils' new restaurant instead.

Hermione nodded and said, “That would be lovely. Could you get a table while I talk to Ron for a moment?” She was blooming, but she also looked rather annoyed.

As soon as Seamus left, she looked at Ron. “Sit back down for a minute. You look like you’ve just spit up slugs."

Ron sat down with a worried look. “Hermione, did he just say shagged out? As in Harry and me?” He shook his head limply. “Where did he get that idea from? He was joking, right?”

Hermione gazed at him sadly. “You two do know how it looks, right? Every time you take girls out you always bring them here and always end up talking to no one but each other. Then after the poor things have cleared off out of boredom, you leave together to go to the flat that you share, one of you helping the other if they’re too pissed.”

“See here, Hermione - the only reason that we always side-along is because otherwise we knock into each other on the door mat!” Ron said defensively.

“You always side-along?” Hermione gave a surprised but piercing look. “I never knew that, Ron. You’re just reinforcing my point.”

“Look, it’s none of your business how we get home! Why are you worried about what we look like outside the house? We live together, for fuck's sake. But you’re not asking about what we get up to there. Why, Hermione?” Ron looked angry but triumphant all the same.

“Because it’s bloody Christmas!” she said, nearly screamed. “Another year gone by, and what have either of you done with yourselves? I see both you and Harry walk around acting desperate for female companionship and moaning about wanting to find the right women someday, and you keep sabotaging yourselves! I’ve seen your little dates. You barely even talk to those women.” She paused in an attempt to calm herself.

Ron deflated. He had to admit to that her observations were true. The problem was, he didn’t much find that he wanted to talk to any of those girls. Especially the times after he’d shagged one. They’d want to stay and keep talking, and then they’d want to spend all of their time with him, and then talk about moving in together, and then when would he see Harry?

Harry. It was true; he’d rather just hang out with Harry like they’d always done.

Ron shook his head nervously. “You don’t understand. It’s hard to find the right woman.”

“They’re all around you if you’d give one a chance,” Hermione countered.

“Are you making me on offer?” Ron smirked.

Hermione rolled her eyes at that. “Hardly. Now if you’ll excuse me, I appear to have a date.”

She leaned down to kiss his cheek. “Just think about what I’ve said. I want you both to be happy, alright?” She paused. “And if there’s ever anything you need to talk about…”

Ron nodded. “Thanks. Don’t let Seamus get you too shagged out before the holidays, yeah?”

She smiled and headed for the exit.

Ron sighed. He was left with a lot to think about.

Part 2
3 *:

Harry walked as quickly as possible through the snow, breathing in the ripe, icy dampness of the air heavily. He didn’t know where he was heading, but he knew he had to get there. What he sought would be there, so he urged his feet on faster.

He started to run but the snow wouldn’t let him. He slipped and fell to the ground with a thud.

No.

He had to get up and keep going. He had to get to the warmth waiting for him.

He could practically taste it - like oranges and chocolate and musk.

His body hummed with anticipation. He was close, he could sense it.

His clothes were soaked from the snow, his teeth chattered, his fingers ached with cold.

The flat. It was there.

His excitement rose, walking up the steps, melting snow leaving puddles behind him.

Just beyond the door.

His hand shook as he reached for the knob. This was it, the answer. Home.

He opened the door and… there sat Ron by the fire, his smile touching every part of his face, looking only at him.

Warm.

Part 3
---x O::::8

Harry woke with a start. Fuck, he thought. He’d fallen asleep in his boxers on the living room floor. Again. And left the window open. Again. He had to stop doing that. Bloody freezing, he thought. The healers said that his memory would be back to 100% by Christmas at least, but for Harry it couldn’t come fast enough. This was fucking annoying. But none of that really mattered now, because he’d been having the strangest dream, and was still feeling it’s effects - the primary one being an incredible sense of peace and happiness; the secondary one being a throbbing stiffy. He had never in his life woken up so aroused. If he just rubbed a little bit - oh like that… he gasped, coming in spurts all over the inside of his boxers. Oh, that’s good.

“What in bloody fuck are you doing?” asked Ron, bewildered.

Harry’s eyes opened wide and he grabbed his crotch, desperately embarrassed. “Well don’t just stand there, toss me that blanket, will you?”

Ron did and stepped back, smirking. He leaned against the door frame, arms and legs crossed. “Toss, eh?”

Harry scowled at him as he rose and wrapped the blanket around himself. “Look, I didn’t mean for that to happen. I was sleeping and woke up like this, mostly. I must have heard you coming in.”

Ron’s eyebrows crept up his forehead, but almost immediately he grinned. “Uh huh. Why is it freezing in here? Window open again? Do you have any idea how cold it is out there?” Ron shivered as he glanced down Harry’s naked torso to the blanket wrapped around his hips. Harry flushed.

Ron walked closer and put his hand on Harry’s bare shoulder. Warm. “Look, you’re all goose-pimply,” he said soothingly. “Why don’t you go take a warm bath or something and get dressed. I finished most of the shopping today, and I can show you everything and we can wrap it together. I can floo for some curry, if you like. You fancy vindaloo?”

“Um. Yeah. That’d be great,” he managed. Ron’s hand was still on his shoulder, practically burning him with his body heat. Harry could feel his cock start to stir again. Uh oh. Why did he have to touch him right now?

“Must have been one hell of a dream, eh?”

Harry blushed furiously. “You could say that.”

Ron removed his hand and Harry escaped down the hallway to the bath.

He lost the blanket.

Ron touching him.

Stroke.

On his shoulder.

Stroke.

With his bare hand.

Stroke.

His warm, bare, rough…

Stroke.

…long fingers… hand.

Stroke.

His voice.

"Unh!" He came all over his hand with a grunt. Holy hell.

Harry looked up into the mirror and said, “I fancy Ron?”

“Apparently so, and that’s sweet, dear, really - but would you mind wiping this off me?”

Part 4a
:-O O::::8

Ron watched Harry take off down the hallway. Maybe I shouldn’t have touched him, he thought. He shook his head and closed the window. Then he flooed for their dinner, cast a warming charm on it, and sat down on the couch. Somehow his train of thought kept coming back to Harry in that blanket. Fuck, he thought, she’s really gotten into my head.

This was not on. For one thing, he wasn’t a shirtlifter. For another, Harry didn’t deserve that. He’d always wanted a family - it was plain as anything. He’d never actually said as much, but Ron knew. Finally, Harry was most certainly straight. He’d never given any indication otherwise. And since when am I not? And why in Merlin’s name am I thinking of this now? His thoughts strayed back to Harry; finding him laying on the floor in his boxers, his hand in his pants. Moaning, touching himself. Godric!

Ron’s jeans tightened, and he shook his head forcefully to get rid of the image of Harry’s torso.

It wasn’t working. Shit.

Harry appeared in jeans and a t-shirt. “Do you want a beer?” Ron jumped.

“Thanks,” he choked out. He coughed. “In fact, make it two, yeah?”

Harry summoned a 4 pack from the fridge, plopped down next to Ron and smiled. Ron felt his stomach twist. Godric, he needed that beer.

“You aren’t coming down with anything are you?” Harry asked, placing his hand palm-first on Ron’s forehead.

Oh Merlin, he’s touching me.

Ron started and Harry’s hand moved quickly away. He looked at Harry and examined his still wet hair and his glasses that still had little beads of moisture on the lenses. His heart was racing, and he breathed in a jagged breath. He shook his head. “No, I’m fine. Thanks,” he mumbled.

Harry moved away slightly, cracked open two beers and handed one to Ron. Ron downed his in moments. When he looked up, so had Harry.

They continued to drink and eat in silence for several minutes, until Ron couldn’t stand it anymore and spoke.

“So I talked to Hermione earlier,” Ron started.

Harry had his head tipped back taking a long pull from his bottle. His neck was pale and smooth, laid bare as though just there for him to gaze at. A lump formed in Ron’s throat, and his head involuntarily moved towards Harry’s neck as though it were magnetic.

“Ron?” Harry asked in a low voice. His breath seemed heavy, and meanwhile Ron’s arm had shifted up the back of the couch to rest between Harry and himself. Ron looked up and locked eyes with Harry.

Harry's eyes appeared dark and bright all at once. Ron inhaled sharply.

"More beer?" he asked rather breathlessly.

Harry nodded quickly. "Yeah. Be great," he replied softly, still staring.

Neither moved.

Ron swallowed. His heart was thundering in his chest. What is happening here?

Somehow Harry seemed much closer, and somehow Ron's arm had found its way behind Harry's shoulders. He felt the soft cotton touching his skin, and he heard what sounded like a tiny little moan, though which of them it came from he couldn't say.

"Ron," Harry breathed. "Do you want--"

"Whatever you want," he breathed back.

Harry licked his lips and slowly, so very slowly brushed his lips against his. He felt Harry's right hand move up to his cheek. Ron could feel Harry's fingers trembling against his skin. Fingers leaving feathery light touches across his stubble. Fingers tracing the outline of his ear. Fingers that defined the word gentle.

Harry stopped to whisper against his lips.

"I want you."

Ron circled his arm tighter around Harry's back and pulled his upper body flush against his own. He pressed his tongue gently but insistently against Harry's lips until they parted.

Their tongues slid together and Ron felt as though he were drinking him. He exhaled into the kiss, and this seemed to set something off in Harry, who began frantically crashing their lips together, fingers tugging on his hair, while the other arm wrapped around him and pulled Ron on top of him on the couch.

"Please, Ron, please touch me," he whispered again.

Ron sat back, straddling Harry on the couch, and looked down at him.

Harry's eyes were glazed with lust, his hair mussed, his fingers sliding up under his own shirt. Ron looked at the trail of hair that went down his stomach and felt his mouth water.

He lifted Harry's shirt and pulled it off over his head, stopping momentarily to relieve him of his glasses.

He continued to stare as he unbuttoned his own shirt. Harry's skin was pale and creamy, his chest and stomach moving in breathy gasps. Ron lowered himself back onto Harry, chests against one another.

Harry moaned loudly as he moved his lips and teeth and tongue over Harry's neck. Ron could feel their erections pressed against each other. He could feel him rutting against him.

The pants had to go.

"Stand up," he directed, pulling Harry up with one hand, and turning his back against his chest. He could feel Harry tremble as his mouth continued its path across the back of his neck, and he wrapped his arms around the other man's smaller frame to unbutton his jeans. Harry's arms snaked their way under his own and behind him, pulling Ron closer, pushing his arse to grind against his erection.

Ron moaned loudly at the very thought of what he was being given the blessing to do.

He pushed Harry's jeans and boxers down quickly and practically tore his own off before Harry could change position.

He stood behind him, his cock pressed to the cleft of Harry's arse. He reached around and felt for Harry's cock, pulling him tight against him.

"Oh, Merlin!" Harry moaned.

"Fuck, Harry," Ron breathed in his ear, his right hand stroking the most velvety hardness. He never wanted to let go of it ever. "Can I--"

"Yes," he whispered back, strained. "Keep going. Do whatever you want. Anything, just don't stop touching me."

And with that, Ron turned him around to face him, kissed him hard and pushed him back onto the couch. He kissed his way down Harry's chest, his belly, and kissed through the soft hair surrounding his cock.

The tip of Harry's cock was red and dripping. Ron licked his way around the tip, licked his belly, kissed the length. He loved the silky feeling against his lips. He loved the taste. He loved the whiny little sounds that Harry was making. He loved Harry's fingers tangled through his hair.

When he pulled the tip into his mouth and sucked, Harry made the most incredible noise. A noise he'd never heard Harry make before, a noise he'd made just for him.

He took in as much of his length as he could, and before he knew it he heard Harry chant his name over and over again as he came hard into his mouth. He swallowed everything he could, and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

Harry looked up at him with a look of surprise and something else he couldn't quite define. He couldn't help but smile back-- he was rather pleased with himself.

Part 4b
3 ~(-:

Harry looked up at Ron, his head swimming in a post-coital haze. So many thoughts, so many feelings he’d never felt before. Ron had just done this to him, touched him in ways he’d only just begun to imagine.

“Ron, that was... I can’t tell you how... fuck... c’mere.” He pulled Ron back down on top of him and felt Ron’s length, rock hard, pressed against his thigh.

Harry tasted himself as he kissed Ron, as he reached between their bodies to stroke Ron’s erection.

Ron drew back a little, his face held an expression of such searching and raw desire that it took Harry’s breath away.

“Harry, you said before that I could--”

“Yes. Yes I want you to.” Harry partly lifted himself up to kiss Ron’s chest, and he continued to speak between kisses. “I’ve never done this before,”

kiss

“...but I can feel it.”

kiss

“It’s like it’s aching...”

kiss

“...want you there now.”

kiss

“...want to feel you there.”

kiss

Ron groaned into his hair as Harry continued to kiss and stroke and plead.

“Merlin, yes,” he choked out. Harry stopped everything to just look at Ron for a moment. His skin was so warm and there were freckles everywhere he looked, like copper colored snowflakes. His hair was startlingly red and bright, catching the licks of light from every direction.

Like fire, he thought.

Ron grabbed Harry’s hands and they both stood up facing each other.

“We’re really going to do this,” Ron said quietly, smiling, still holding Harry’s hands in his own.

Harry let Ron pull him down the hallway to Ron’s bedroom. Harry’s eyes took in a flurry of orange just before Ron grabbed him around the middle and practically threw him onto the bed. He was on Harry like a flash, and he could see red hair bobbing around his thighs, feel it tickling the backs of them as Ron raised his legs up to his chest.

He could feel it tickling closer and closer as open-mouthed kisses were placed down the backs of his thighs, Ron’s moist breath making him shiver. He felt the broad licks getting nearer and he nearly laughed out loud with relief that he’d taken a shower.

But thought went out the window when he felt Ron’s tongue brush over his hole, and when his tongue became a point and pressed into him Harry stopped thinking at all. He wanted Ron inside him. Now.

“Please, Ron,” he practically whimpered.

“Fuck yes, Harry,” Ron moaned. Harry sensed a change in Ron, and wasn’t the least bit surprised to hear him shout, “Lube! Now!”

“Nightstand,” Harry moaned back.

Ron lubed up his fingers and growled, “You want me to fuck you? I’ll fuck you as hard as you want.”

“God, yes!” he cried as one finger slid inside him.

“Tell me what you want, Harry.” Another finger.

“Fuck... need you in... oh god!” A third.

“There.” He slid his cock in smoothly and began a slow thrust.

“Unh! Fuck... I love you!”

Ron’s thrusting became more intense upon hearing those words. Harry felt so full, so perfect like this.

“Harry,” he grunted.

thrust

“You...”

thrust

“Mine...”

thrust

“Yes, yours!” moaned Harry.

He felt Ron’s slick hand tugging and sliding on his cock in time to his thrusts, pulling his foreskin up and down over the head. A few more strokes and he was sent tumbling over the edge again. Another thrust and he felt Ron pulse inside him. “I love you, Harry,” he said simply.

When he felt Ron’s body relax above him he knew that this was what he’d always wanted without even knowing it. This was what he’d never let go of. This was where he belonged.

This was home.

Part 5
#8-O *^:

The snow fell heavily outside the windows of the Burrow. Ron stood by the window watching the enormous flakes fall as the rest of the family sat around the enormous fireplace talking, laughing and drinking eggnog freely.

Molly and Fleur stood in the kitchen nearby with Harry working on the enormous Christmas dinner they would all share later that day. Ron turned around for a moment and gazed at his family, every one of them red-faced from the warmth, the liquor and the company. Ron watched as Arthur sat holding the littlest Weasley, Victoire, on his lap. She cooed at him as she tried to take bites of his nose. Arthur’s laugh was rich and infectious. Ron couldn’t help but smile.

Ron looked over at Harry in the kitchen. He was helping Molly with a Bearnaise sauce that she’d wanted to try ever since he’d told her about it. Ron chuckled inwardly at his Harry willingly hanging out in the kitchen with the women. He seemed to be genuinely enjoying himself. Ron watched him smile at Molly as she hugged him around the waist and kissed his temple. Harry really was a member of the family. But what if they knew? Ron’s smile faded and he turned to look out of the window again.

“Your thoughts look heavy.” Ron jumped and looked around at Arthur. The older man eyed him expectantly.

“I’m fine, dad,” he lied, giving a small smile.

Arthur put his hand on Ron’s shoulder and said, “No need to lie to me, son. It’s plain that there’s something on your mind.” He looked at Ron thoughtfully for a moment. “Follow me. I have something to show you.”

Ron followed his father in to the tiny study.

“Shut the door, would you?” Ron did so and turned to face Arthur, who was opening a cupboard by the window. He took out what looked like a dusty champagne bottle and handed it to Ron. Moët & Chandon Brut Imperial said the label. “1980 vintage. We bought it just after you were born. We’ve bought a bottle of the best champagne we could afford just after each of you were born. Something for you to have when each of you has a child. There’s a bottle waiting for everyone but Bill. He and Fleur popped the cork on his when Victoire was born.”

“Fred, too?” Ron couldn’t help but ask. Arthur’s eyes saddened for a moment, and he nodded.

“George gets to decide what to do with that one.” Ron looked at the bottle. “I remember the day after you arrived, I went to the Muggle market and a very nice lady helped me to pick that out. It was expensive, even though it was new, but she said it was an excellent champagne and that I wouldn’t regret it. I was a little nervous telling your mother how much I’d spent on it, but luckily she was completely wrapped up in you, and besides, I don’t think anything registers for a few days after a woman’s just had a baby. It’s like they’ve drunk an entire bottle of calming draught.” He chuckled. “You were so tiny then. Your mother was prepared for you to be small and stringy. Like Harry. I’m just sorry we don’t have a bottle for him.”

Ron flushed a little at the mention of Harry. “Dad, why are you telling me all this now? I don’t have a pregnant wife.”

“And something tells me that you never will,” Arthur said gently. “Am I right?”

Ron’s jaw dropped, but he quickly closed it again. “Dad, what are you trying to say?” He wasn’t sure he wanted to have this conversation on Christmas of all days.

Arthur looked at him with mild eyes. “Ron, if there’s something going on between you and Harry, I want you to know that we would all understand. You needn’t be afraid of telling us. It wouldn’t exactly come as a surprise, you know.”

Ron was flabbergasted. “But, how did you... does mum... do you all... blimey. I need another cider.” He crossed to the little desk chair and sat down. He was lightheaded at this revelation, and wasn’t quite sure what to do with himself. Just calm down and look at him. Everything is okay. He’s not disowning you, is he? No. Breathe.

“Dad, Harry and I, well... we’ve sort of... that is to say...”

“So you are together then?” Arthur asked.

Ron nodded slowly. “Yes.”

Arthur crossed over to Ron and extended his hand to help Ron up. “Well that’s wonderful, son. Your mother will be pleased.” He pulled Ron into an awkward hug, the bottle still clasped in Ron’s hand crushed between them. Ron felt something warm bloom in his chest that threatened to explode, reducing everything around him to ash and cinder. Happiness welled up in him, and he couldn’t suppress and enormous grin from breaking out across his face. Not that he wanted to.

Arthur released his son and crossed to the door. “That bottle is yours to keep, by the way. If you have children somehow that’s wonderful, but it’s up to you what you save it for. Alright, Ron?”

“Alright, dad.”

As they walked back into the main room, Ron saw his mother and father exchange a meaningful smile, and heartened by this he walked over to the kitchen table where Harry was standing chopping tarragon. Ron slipped his arm around his waist and brushed his lips against Harry’s temple. Harry stilled, seemingly frozen with shock.

“Ron,” he whispered under his breath. “Just what is it you think you’re doing?”

Ron grinned at Harry’s frightened face and planted another kiss directly on his lips this time.

“They know, Harry. Happy Christmas.”

Part 6
3 x---

Christmas dinner at the Burrow had gone extremely well. The entire Weasley clan seemed perfectly fine and not a bit surprised at the new development. In fact, Percy, the one person Ron expected might have an issue, looked rather smug. When Ron saw him get slipped a bag of coins after the meal he immediately guessed why. He was less bothered at the bet than pleased that Percy seemed to be loosening up with George. Still, no one took the piss, so Ron thought it was a rather good evening.

So when Harry apparated home separately and knocked Ron off the doormat, he was not a little confused. He’d seemed fine all evening up until it was time to go home, at which point he became cold and stand-offish.

Harry opened the door, went inside and shut it behind him, leaving Ron still sitting on his arse outside in the cold.

“Harry?” he called after him as he stood up and walked inside. “What’s got into you?”

Rubbing his arse, he walked into the kitchen. Harry was facing the counter pouring liquor into a glass. He knocked it back in one gulp.

Ron blinked.

“Harry, mate. Say something. What’s wrong?” He crossed over and placed a hand on the other man’s shoulder. It was immediately shrugged off.

“Look, if I’ve done something wrong, please at least tell me what it was, yeah?”

“If you’ve done something?” Harry shouted back. “What were you thinking, Ron? I thought we agreed we weren’t going to say anything until we were both ready! Remember? What happened to that plan, eh?”

Ron opened his mouth to protest, but was immediately cut off.

“Would it have been so much of a bother to talk to me in advance? But no! You had to take it upon yourself to out us to your entire family on bloody Christmas without so much as a warning!”

“Harry, that’s not how it-“

“I’m going to bed.” And with that he thrust his empty glass into Ron’s hand and took off down the hallway.

Ron stared stupidly at the glass for a moment before he heard the bedroom door slam and lock.

“Fuck.”

Ron gave him a few minutes then went to knock on the door.

“Harry. Let me in. We need to talk.”

There was no answer.

“Please.”

He heard the low mutter of the counter charm and the door unlocked.

When he opened it he saw Harry sitting on the edge of the bed holding Ron’s old Cannons tee he used as a nightshirt. He was picking at a stray thread, staring at it with slightly reddened eyes. Ron walked over and sat down next to him.

“Hey.” He put his arm around Harry’s shoulder. “I want to explain what happened, alright?”

The other man nodded slightly, and Ron took it as encouragement enough.

“Mum and Dad figured it out. Dad took me aside and said that it wasn’t really a surprise. He gave us a bottle of champagne from when I was born.”

Harry looked up into Ron’s face. “Really?”

“Really,” he affirmed. “I would never have said anything without you. As it was there wasn’t really anything to tell. He said everyone had pretty much figured it out and would be fine with it.” Ron’s fingers began playing with the hair at the nape of Harry’s neck. He felt him lean into the touch.

“I’m sorry I went off the deep end. But you scared me out of my wits when you kissed me back there. I could barely keep my food down.”

Ron moved so that he was kneeling on the bed behind Harry, and began massaging his shoulders. He kissed the top of his head and inhaled deeply, breathing in the scent that emanated from the dark strands.

“I’m sorry,” he said simply, continuing to rub his shoulders. “Dad was just so... well... Dad about it. I was so happy I couldn’t think straight.”

Harry snorted as his neck went slack. “I suppose I have trouble with that too. With you.”

Ron circled his arms around Harry’s chest, and his hands felt his nipples harden through the thin fabric of his shirt. He felt, rather than heard, the sharp intake of breath as his fingers began to circle them slowly. He brought his mouth to Harry’s ear.

“So you’re not still angry?” He took an earlobe between his teeth and sucked. Harry shuddered in his arms. “We are so very lucky,” he breathed as he began to nibble on the warm flesh of the neck beneath his lips, licking little patterns with each biting kiss.

“Oh god, yes,” Harry answered breathlessly. “So angry.” He exposed his neck more fully to Ron’s assault. “You still have some serious making up to do.”

Ron’s cock immediately sprang to attention. He loved hearing Harry use that voice - the one he was sure no one else but him had ever heard. He moaned aloud as he was pushed back onto the bed by the smaller man.

Harry stood up on the bed, kicked off his shoes and began unbuttoning his shirt. Ron lay back to watch. “I’m going to do whatever I want to you, alright?” he said nonchalantly, placing his naked foot over the bulge in Ron’s trousers. Ron gulped and nodded, his eyes wide.

“Good. Then I’m going to fuck you. Consider it a Christmas present.”

By that point Harry was naked, towering above him, his eyes blackened with lust, his erection standing proudly before him. It suddenly seemed to Ron frighteningly large, and his pulse quickened with nervousness.

“Right now?” he squeaked.

Harry grinned and nodded as his foot rubbed against Ron’s crotch. “Don’t worry, love. We’ll go ever so slowly. First,” he said, kneeling beside him, “I’m going to undress you. We’ll start with your jumper.” He tugged it and the undershirt over Ron’s head, kissing his inner arm as he did so, and began licking his way down his chest, following the trail of ginger hair down his stomach.

He pushed Ron back flat against the bed. “Next, your shoes.” Off they came with his socks. Harry brought one foot between his legs as he began to massage the other. Ron could feel the velvety shaft making tiny thrusts against his arch. “Just relax.” Harry’s voice was low and gravelly. “You’re going to beg me for it. You watch.” He switched feet, and Ron could feel wetness against his toes from Harry’s cock. To his surprise, he felt himself become even harder.

He closed his eyes briefly and felt his belt being unfastened. His trousers and pants were pulled off in one motion, and he opened his eyes again to see Harry staring at him hungrily. He felt Harry’s nose nuzzle his crotch, heavy breaths tickling the hair, lips licking and nibbling his sac. He felt Harry swirl his tongue around one of his balls, tugging gently with his mouth. The sound of him breathing through his nose was indescribably hot. He felt one great lick up his shaft, and then Harry grabbed his hands and lifted him up. He moved to sit on the edge of the bed and beckoned Ron over.

“Come here. Bend over my lap,” he commanded.

“What are you-” he began to ask, but Harry’s expression brooked no argument. There was no choice but to obey.

He felt Harry’s hand at his back, bending him over, and then fingers began running up and down his spine, gliding over his buttocks at the end of every stroke. His erection was pressed against Harry’s legs, and he tried an experimental thrust.

“Now, now. None of that. When you come it will be because I’m fucking you." He leaned over and spoke in a low voice while tracing his fingers along Ron’s cleft. “When I do, I’m going to slide right in. I’ll fill you up.” His fingers continued to slide closer and closer. “You won’t believe how good it feels when I press into you, and when I start thrusting in and out of you you’ll beg me to do it harder.”

Ron choked out a moan as the fingers finally brushed against him. But just as he got used to the sensation he felt his cheeks being spread. “But before I do...”

He felt Harry’s wet tongue, dripping with saliva, slide across his hole. Ron shouted out.

“Oh Ha- Ha- Harry! Oh my god!”

The tongue continued to move back and forth, then changed direction. He felt him biting his arse cheeks, nibbling closer back towards his hole, licking and lapping, his tongue finally thrusting into him in a point. He heard Harry begin to moan, and that completely undid him. He shouted back wantonly, his arousal so strong he could taste it. He felt as though he were being feasted on.

“Fuck me, Harry. Now,” he moaned.

Harry lifted him off and tossed him back onto the bed. He crawled up over Ron and plundered his mouth with his tongue. “You taste so fucking good, you have no idea,” he growled. “I could lick you and never stop.”

Ron almost came on the spot. “Keep saying things,” he breathed, grabbing Harry’s hips to pull him down. “Fuck me and don’t stop talking.”

“Beg me for it. Tell me how much you want me to fuck you.” he commanded, lifting Ron’s legs up.

“Please fuck me, Harry.”

“You want me inside you?” He muttered a charm under his breath. “Like this?” he asked, inserting two fingers at once, thrusting.

“More. God, more.”

Harry began to push into him slowly. “Alright?”

Ron grunted his approval and looked up at the man above him. His dark hair was disheveled and his eyes were almost black. Little beads of sweat were on his brow and lip, trickling down his neck. Harry looked like the strain of not moving pained him. To Ron, he was absolutely breathtaking.

“You feel so hot and tight and moist, I can barely-”

“Go on then,” Ron interrupted. “Fuck me.”

Harry sighed and began thrusting into him slowly. “Is this good?” he grunted.

“God, yes! I love you. Harder.”

“Fuck... yes... hard... love you,” he managed as beads of sweat began falling off him. Ron reached up and pulled Harry down closer to him and began licking it off of him.

He felt it begin to crest as he bit into Harry’s shoulder, building further with each thrust, until he shouted incoherently and felt himself spurt between them. As he clenched around Harry he felt him twitch and pulse once, twice inside him. He released his shoulder and pulled him down into a hug as they breathed through the aftershocks. It was so... peaceful. He wanted to feel him like this as long as he possibly could.

“Thank you,” he said finally, as Harry rolled off of him. They lay on their sides looking at each other. He felt Harry’s fingers touch the side of his face.

“Really?” he asked, scrunching up his face in a smile. “Aren’t I supposed to be the one thanking you?” he chuckled.

Ron raised his eyebrows. “Don’t make me put on my serious face. I love you. You made it wonderful for me.”

Harry’s thumb continued to move back and forth across Ron’s cheekbone as he moved his face closer. “Happy Christmas, Ron,” he murmured against his lips.

“Yes. It really is,” he murmured back.

Head Duties

Sun, 11 Nov 2007 17:48:31 GMT

My first het fic. Here's Percy/Penny for littledupont.

Head Duties

Percy stood in front of the door to the prefect’s bath, bathrobe in hand, trying desperately to remember what the password was. The passwords changed constantly ever since Sirius Black had entered the castle.

“Something to do with bubbles... no...”

Percy bit his lower lip in frustration. He had to bathe in the next hour or he’d be late for his rounds. He couldn’t stand there all night.

“Everything alright, Percy?” a voice asked from behind him. Percy started and looked around to see Penny, who was also holding a bathrobe.

Percy gulped and thought quickly. “Yes, fine Penny. I think I’d better just go to the showers. See you tonight.”

Penny frowned a little and let out what sounded like a small sigh. “Well, weren’t you about to take a bath, too?”

“Well yes, but--”

“We could share,” she finished. She looked up into his eyes with a gaze so fierce that Percy was almost frightened. His jaw dropped open and he stared at her dumbly for a moment until she grabbed his hand and whispered, “Mr. Bubble.” With that she dragged him into the bath.

The door closed behind them and before he knew it Penny was unfastening his robes.

“Look here, Penny, I don’t think we should mumph--”

Penny’s lips were on his, her fingers in his hair, her tongue swirling around his. He’d never felt so dizzy, or so hard. Then she took his hand and placed it between her legs, and it was this action that broke his reserve.

Before she knew it her robes were in a puddle on the floor, and Percy’s lips were wrapped round her nipple.

“Godric, Penny! Lay down. Now!”

With that he pushed her down onto the towel bench, pulled down her panties and spread her legs apart. He could hear Penny breathing in huffy little gasps as he nibbled his way up her thighs.

“I’ve wanked imagining what you taste like, Penny.” And with that he spread her lips apart and began teasing her folds with the tip of his tongue. He made a point with his tongue and pressed it inside her as far as it would go, then began to thrust in and out.

“Fuck, Percy!” Each thrust made his nose slide against her clit, and before he knew it she was gasping and cursing so hard he thought for sure she’d pass out. He felt her hips quiver beneath his hand, and when she pressed her hand to his hair he looked up to find her body completely slack.

He nibbled his way back up to her breasts and rested his head on her chest, looking up at her. Her chocolate curls really did look beautiful against her shoulders like that. He was so hard it was painful, and before he could start dropping a hint Penny looked down from heavy-lidded eyes and said, “Percy, I’ve never... what got... Godric!”

With a small grimace he replied, “I don’t know, I just sort of lost control. Sorry.”

Penny grinned. “Don’t apologise. I liked it. I expect you’ll be wanting me to do you now?”

Percy gave a relieved nod as she put a finger under his belt.

“Come here, Head Boy. Let’s see what little Percy’s up to.”

Ice Lolly

Sun, 11 Nov 2007 17:45:38 GMT

Rating: NC-17
Summary: Smut. Ron's arse. More smut.
Word count: 2179
Beta: The awesome

tjwritter *claps hands*
Prompt: Harry and Ron mix up their wands, with interesting results.
A/N: Ron's arse. Written for the hprwfqf at insanejournal.

Harry stepped back from his work and grinned. Really, this charm to make the cabinetry act as refrigeration was nothing short of brilliant. Shame it was so bloody long, though. Fortunately, the Repito Incantatem spell that Hermione taught him meant that he only had to cast the complicated charm once. It was like cruise control for his wand.

Hermione had explained- he could either say Repito, or use any other applicable spell that acted as a modifier. This cut the time the whole job would take by a factor of five. So far he had charmed two refrigeration cabinets, and was one down, one to go on the freezers. Cooling charms did take a lot of energy, Harry discovered, so he was taking a break at the kitchen table with a newly cooled lager.

Ron walked into the kitchen clad only in his boxers, scratching at his stomach. Harry sighed inwardly and subtly adjusted himself beneath the table. Why must he do this to me on Saturdays, he thought. It was usually the way of his weekends- walking around with a stiffy until Ron finally got dressed sometime before dinner. Ron dropped his wand on the table next to Harry’s and proceeded to groan heavily as he lifted his arms high over his head.

Harry’s mouth went dry in spite of his drink as he carefully watched Ron stretch. Like a cat, Harry thought.
His torso was smattered with freckles that thinned out over his pale stomach. Harry took in the little red hairs that caught the light, running down his chest and down below the waistband of his boxers. He licked his lips and wanted nothing more than to follow that path with his tongue. Ron let out a final grunt and Harry looked quickly back at his bottle.

“Whatchoo doin?” asked Ron lazily. He rubbed at his cheeks. Harry could hear the scrape of his calluses against the stubble. Ron. Hands. Unh.

He braced himself for conversation.

“I’m charming the cabinetry so that we don’t have to get a refrigerator,” he replied cheerfully. “Are you fully awake yet? You were up awfully late last night.”

Ron froze. All the color had drained from his face. Well he certainly looks awake now, Harry thought.

“You heard me? But I put up a silencing charm!” Ron squeaked. He looked terrified. Harry didn’t understand why he would be so upset. It wasn’t like he… oh. Right.

“It’s okay. I didn’t know you had anyone here last night. Your charm worked. I just heard you leave the room to go to the loo.”

Ron seemed to regain some color and composure. He looked much more relaxed when he replied, “Er… yeah, that’s alright then. I thought maybe you’d heard me. H-heard us, I mean.” He smiled then.

“Nope.” Harry rose and waved at the cabinetry. “Now I’ve got something to show you. You see these striped cabinets up top? Those are the freezers. If you ever get ice cream you put it in here, got it?” Ron nodded.

Harry pointed to the two black cabinets by his feet. “These two are refrigerators. Milk and leftovers go in here. Fridge on the bottom, freezer on top. No ice lollies in the bottom, okay?”

Harry looked expectantly. Ron smiled groggily and said, “Ice lollies up top, milk below. Right. Now, have you seen the new Quidditch Monthly around?”

“Fell behind the sofa, I think,” Harry replied. Ron walked from the kitchen to the living room and Harry took the opportunity to stare at his arse. It really wasn’t fair of him to be walking around in his underwear like that. It made Harry itchy.

“Found it!” Ron called from the other room. He reappeared to grab his wand off the table. “Gonna take a shower.” He scratched his bottom as he left the room. Harry let out a deep breath.

God, weekends were torture.

Harry had known since sixteen that he fancied blokes. He had known since seventeen that he fancied Ron. Ron, however, had been involved with Hermione in a tumultuous relationship that ended less than a year before. At twenty-one they were both single, and while Harry continued to remain secretive about his preferences, Ron occasionally brought a girl home after a night out at the clubs.

Sometimes he thought that Ron knew. Hermione certainly figured it out. Yet it never occurred to Harry to be up front with Ron about his feelings for him, because when Harry had so little that he felt really belonged to him, he was damned if he was going to mess up his relationship with his best friend. Harry could live like a monk for the rest of his life if he had to as long as Ron was happy and ignorant. Unfortunately this meant that he didn’t get much action. In fact, he didn’t get any at all. He’d been introduced to the joys of sex by Terry Boot for one glorious month after his eighteenth birthday; and once Harry had gone by himself to a Muggle gay club, but he found it completely overwhelming, and everyone who tried to chat him up seemed predatory. No. If he couldn’t have Ron, he wouldn’t have anyone at all. He maintained a close relationship with his right hand.

Harry drained the rest of his beer and tried to concentrate. Back to business, he thought. Harry picked up his wand and pointed it at the cupboard, took a deep breath and said “Repito.” A clear, gelatinous substance shot out of the tip and landed with a splat in the center of the cupboard. It slid down and dripped in small globs onto the counter below.

What in the name of Merlin? Clearly, something had gone wrong with the spell. Harry stepped forward to inspect it. He sniffed it, but smelled nothing. He gingerly poked at it with the tip of his finger, but nothing happened. Harry frowned. It was clear and slippery, almost like… Oh.

Harry looked at the wand.

Ohhh.

Realization hit him. This was Ron’s wand. Which meant that the last thing Ron had done with his wand was—Harry’s knees buckled and the blood raced straight to his cock. Bloody hell! But why would he need that with the bird he had over last night? Unless…

It suddenly occurred to Harry that he hadn’t actually seen a girl. Ron had come home last night. Alone. Oh, fuck me. He must have wanked before bed- that’s why he didn’t want Harry to hear him. Images of Ron’s hand wrapped around his slick cock danced in Harry’s mind. Bloody hell, now I’m going to need a wank. Then he remembered Ron was in the shower- probably wet and soapy already.

He slipped his hand into his trousers and pulled out his cock. He scooped up a bit of the lube and spread it up and down himself. He gripped his cock and began to stroke.

“AHHHH!!!”

He was interrupted by Ron’s scream from down the hallway.

Shit! If he had Ron’s wand, then Ron had his! He sprinted to the door of bathroom.

“RON!” he shouted. “Are you okay?”

There was no answer.

“Ron, you have my wand,” he said as calmly as possible. “There’s a refrigeration charm set on it. Let me in.”

There was a sickened moan from behind the door.

“I’m coming in.” He pointed the wand at the doorknob. “Alohomora!”

The door swung open to reveal three things straight away. First, Ron was completely naked on the floor.

Second, the Quidditch Monthly was opened to a revealing picture of Puddlemere’s own Oliver Wood.

Third, he did indeed have Harry’s wand, which was now sticking out of his arse.

Harry paused for a moment to take it all in. Ron. Arses. Oliver Wood. Ron fancied men? Wait, thought Harry, there’s something else important here. Refrigeration spell.

“Fuck, Ron. Okay, don’t move, I’m going to help you. Did you use Lubricatus?

Ron nodded feebly. Harry knew he would have been crimson with embarrassment if his body temperature weren’t dropping. This was serious, yet he couldn’t help finding it a bit funny. It was a lube ice lolly up his arse; but Ron would definitely not appreciate being laughed at. Harry bit his lip and tried to sound as serious as possible.

“Okay, I’m going to try to warm it up, alright? Don’t be embarrassed. I’m going to shift you a bit.” Harry lifted Ron up onto all fours. Harry kneeled behind him and removed his wand from Ron’s hole. He bit back a moan. He definitely wasn’t laughing now. Harry inserted just the tip of Ron’s own wand into him, performed a warming charm and put the wand down.

“Thank you,” Ron sighed with relief, but strangely made no effort to move.

Neither did Harry. He stared at Ron’s arse still fully exposed in front of him, pale round buttocks with two dimples just above, and ginger hair fanning out on his muscular thighs. Two large balls below a rosy dark pucker. Then he noticed it- Ron’s erect cock hanging heavily just beyond his balls.

Moments passed before he could decide whether or not to take advantage of the situation. Curiosity and lust won out. He lifted his hand and began rubbing circles on the small of Ron’s back. Ron shuddered.

“Does that feel better?” Harry asked, his voice pitched low.

“Mmm,” Ron sighed.

Harry continued, circling his hand wider and wider, his hand moving over the tops of Ron’s buttocks and halfway up his spine. Perspiration beaded on his upper lip. This was amazing. Ron letting him touch him like this. Harry made a low soothing shushing sound as he began drawing figure eights with his fingertips. Ron arched his back a bit. The lump in Harry’s throat was almost painful. He stopped the circles.

“Don’t stop,” Ron whispered.

Emboldened, Harry continued to draw lines up the spine with the tips of his fingers as he placed the other hand on Ron’s left hip. Ron let out a soft moan. He was getting all the right responses. Now it's time to start the interrogation, he thought.

“What were you doing?” Harry asked huskily.

Ron said nothing. His breaths were shallow.

“I’ll tell you what I think you were doing,” Harry said slowly. “I think you were about to toss off to that picture of Oliver Wood, weren’t you?”

“Harry, I…” Harry pressed his erection against Ron’s crack. Ron’s breath was ragged.

“Weren’t you?” Harry repeated sternly. Ron grunted.

“Y-yes.”

“I thought so.” Harry bent over Ron’s back and breathed in his ear. “I never knew you fancied blokes. You might have said something.” He licked the shell of his ear. “Were you thinking of me when you wanked last night or is it always Oliver?”

Instead of answering, Ron turned his head and captured Harry’s mouth with his own. Harry exhaled into the kiss, his tongue reaching everywhere in Ron’s mouth it could. He sucked his tongue rhythmically, while Ron made indescribable little noises beneath him. Harry drew back and locked gazes with Ron.

“I could fuck you into the floor right now. If you wanted me to.”

Ron’s eyes closed and he nodded vigorously. “Yesss. Oh Godric, you have no idea.”

“Have you ever been with a man before?”

“Just my wand. I’m ready,” he breathed.

Harry thought he would burst. He pulled Ron tighter to him and grabbed his prick, then whispered in his ear again.

“There’s something you need to know first.” Kiss. “I’ve been in love with you for years, and I can’t do this if it’s not going to mean anything to you.”

Ron grinned widely as he nuzzled his neck against Harry’s mouth. “Don’t be daft. Why do you think Hermione and I broke up?”

Harry gripped Ron tighter and elicited a gasp.

“Do you mean to tell me you’ve been prancing around in your underwear every weekend just to get my attention?” he growled. “Very naughty.” And with that he began jerking Ron in earnest.

“H-Harry, I’m close. Please,” he pleaded. “Fuck me.”

“Oh yesss.” Harry replied, emphatic. He positioned himself behind Ron. “Now?”

“Just FUCK ME,” he gasped.

Harry pressed his cock slowly into Ron’s hole. Oh, he’d never felt anything so good, so perfect. He wanted to erect a shrine to this arse.

“Move,” Ron said. Harry complied.

“Harder!”

Harry growled for real as he pounded into Ron over and over again. He couldn’t help but moan with every thrust. This was heaven.

“Oh god, I’m gonna come. RON!” he gasped as he came inside of him. Ron grunted out an incoherent reply as he came all over Harry’s hand.

“Ron, that was… unh.” Harry slumped to the floor next to Ron. He wrapped his arms around him and breathed deeply, catching his breath. After a few moments he began to laugh uncontrollably.

“What’s so bloody funny?” Ron asked, perplexed.

“You had an ice lolly up your arse!” Harry choked out. “I told you not to put them in the bottom.”

Kiss My Arse

Sun, 11 Nov 2007 17:41:13 GMT

Rating: NC-17
Genre: Romance, Humour, First-time!fic
Warnings: Rimming, Harry/Colin (don’t fret!), features smelling!Ron

Author’s Note: Written for First Lines Challenge at

harry_and_ron. My first slash fic! Woot! Also, stupid me stuck an endnote in there. Pfft. Oh, and I changed the POV from third person. I would also like to thank my lovely beta and britpicker tjwritterand loveliesfamous, who offered loads of helpful suggestions and phrases. Hugs and kisses for all!

I'd known from the start that it was a terrible idea, and if I hadn't been so fucking horny, I might have been able to stop myself.

As it was, I was being blown by Colin Creevey in the gents of a strip joint in Diagon Alley.

I’m not sure why the place was called Brooms exactly(1), when the witches didn’t even take their knickers off, but I was there for Fred’s stag party. He was getting married to Angelina two days later, so we were all looking forward to getting pissed without repercussions in the morning. Especially Fred. In any case, we were surrounded by tits, and that in and of itself was a good thing- though I would have preferred them to not get so bloody close. It seemed that all the girls wanted to flaunt them for the Chosen One, and I could swear that I had a nipple smudge on my specs. Aside from that I was having a good time. We all were.

What none of us had expected that evening, however, was Seamus arriving with none other than Terry Boot. Though we all knew that Terry was gay, I certainly didn’t realize that they’d come together until after Seamus had knocked back a few rounds of firewhiskey. Going out, I thought, though I’m sure coming was also part of the arrangement. Seamus started running his hand across Terry’s shoulder and didn’t stop until he had to visit the loo. But if there was any doubt left about what was going on, it certainly disappeared when we all saw Terry stare at Seamus’s arse with a lascivious smile as he walked away. And the table went quiet for a while.

The look on Ron’s face when he asked for two more bottles of Ogdens was rather entertaining. And by the time Seamus and Terry finally got up to dance we were all pretty sloshed, so we took the golden opportunity to confer.

“I had no idea,” Neville started.

“So he’s a shirtlifter, then?” asked Ron.

“Well, it’s not exclusive,” said Dean, rubbing his jaw nervously. “I mean, he does swing both ways. He still likes women.” He nodded vehemently as if to reassure us.

“Oh. Right,” Ron muttered. Judging by his expression, he was either going to vomit or laugh. I couldn’t really tell which.

Neville seemed to be taking it in stride. “Why do people say that?" he asked. "Shirtlifter, I mean. Don't girls get their shirts lifted, too?"

“I dunno,” I answered.

Truth be told, I didn’t have a problem with it in the slightest. If the rise in my pants was any indication, I quite liked the idea. In fact, I was surprised that this had never occurred to me before.

Of course, after 10 shots of firewhisky and something of an epiphany, I finally understood why Colin was looking at me from across the bar, instead of the strippers.

Which leads up to me having my pants around my ankles in the gents, and Colin’s rather talented mouth sucking on my balls.

Don’t misunderstand, I was enjoying myself, but when I came yelling Ron’s name at the top of my lungs (thank Merlin for silencing charms!), you could say I had another sort of epiphany. As well as a very angry Colin glaring up at me through his fringe.

Oh. Shit.

"I'm so sorry, Colin. Please don't take this personally, but I have to go." I’d make up to him later, I told myself. The poor bloke must have carried a torch since Hogwarts.

I ran out of there so quickly I only realized that I’d forgotten to do up my fly after I’d sat back down next to Neville.

Ron looked across the table at me suspiciously. “What took you so long?”

He glanced over at the door to the gents just as Colin was stepping out, still tucking his shirt back in.

He looked back at me.

And he blanched.

Then he turned red. I started to get worried. Worried that he’d put two and two together and realised what had just happened in there with Colin, and worried that he’d never forgive me if he did. I mean, I knew that he was as straight as an arrow, so I wasn’t concerned that he’d be jealous or anything - just that he’d be pissed off. Colin wasn’t Malfoy, but he was a kiss-arse.

“Harry, could I talk to you outside for a minute?”

I felt sick.

We walked into the alley next to the club, and Ron asked quietly, “Were you in there with Colin?”

I didn’t expect him to be so direct. I didn’t expect him to care. I didn’t know why I suddenly felt so good. Something about the way he was looking at me screamed possessive. The way he sort of leaned into me and backed me against the wall. The way his mouth was twisted up in a different expression than I’d anticipated. Did this mean what I thought it meant? Was I imagining this tension?

He alternated between looking at my forehead and the nearby pavement. It felt like hours passed before I figured out what to say.

My heart was thumping, and now that we were outside the club I could smell him. His scent went straight to my knees. It took me so off-guard, so suddenly that I had to grab his shoulder for stability.

Which led to looking into his eyes.

“Um, yes. I’ve never done that before. I mean… I’ve never been… period. That’s… um. I’m sorry?” I stammered. I wasn’t quite sure why I was apologising.

Ron lifted his eyebrows and looked as though I’d just said I was Percy. Bewildered. “You’re sorry? I didn’t mean to accuse you exactly, you have nothing to be sorry for. Erm. I guess I wanted…” he trailed off.

“You wanted what, Ron?” I wasn’t about to let him off the hook so easily. Not now that I knew I wanted him to fuck me. Where had that come from? I wanted him to fuck me. Interesting.

“Harry, are you listening to me?” Oh. Apparently he’d been talking. “I mean, I’m fine with you being that way if that’s what you want. I’m just confused is all.”

“Confused? Do you mean to say that you-”

“What? I mean, erm, the whole Ginny thing.”

“Oh. Yeah, well maybe I’m like Seamus,” I said defiantly.

He just stared at my shoes. It felt like minutes passed. Suddenly he broke from his reverie and looked straight at me. His eyes were dark. His breath was heavy, and his voice was deep.

“Do you think that you might- that you- Oh fuck it all,” he broke off.

I couldn’t let him keep talking. Not when he was being such a bloody idiot. So I did the only thing that seemed appropriate- I kissed him. I grabbed his shoulders, I reached up and I kissed him.

He tasted good, and I can’t think how to describe it, except to say that he tasted familiar. Comforting. Hot.

And he was kissing me back. My Ron.

“You never said anything…” I breathed.

“I know, but I thought about it so bloody much,” he murmured. He ran his thumbs over my cheekbones and I felt protected, which was strange. That’s usually my job.

“Are you sure?”

“I’ve thought about this since we were both 14, Harry. I’m sure.”

He looked at me, and I looked back. I wondered at how it had taken me this long to consider Ron this way- and I marveled at his discretion. “Since we were 14?” I squeaked.

He looked extremely embarrassed, judging by how red he was, but he soon collected himself and answered in a husky voice, “Yeah. I’ve always wondered, you know? I’ve never done this before either.” He wrapped his arms around me and took a deep breath.

“But I’m sorry, Colin? Colin, Harry? He has no right to touch you.” I knew that Ron could be territorial, but when applied to me it went straight to my cock. “If you want to experiment it’s going to be with me. Not that I’m experimenting. You should know that straight off.”

I must have been utterly starry eyed, because his face lit up and he started nibbling on my earlobe. Then he grabbed my arse and squeezed, pulling me close to rub our cocks together. Helga’s teat, it felt good! I let out a small cry.

Ron froze. “Do you want me to stop?”

“Don’t you dare, you git,” I breathed. To further make my point, I pushed my hand down his pants. Wow.

“Bloody hell, Ron, you walk around with this thing every day? How the fuck do you keep it hidden?” For a moment I felt slightly inadequate, but then he started fucking my mouth with his tongue and I had no other choice but to stop being such a pansy.

He rubbed up against my hand then.

I rubbed back.

Then he side-longed me to his flat.

He walked me into the kitchen and kissed me until I was breathless. He’d undone my shirt buttons while I hadn’t even noticed, and started pushing off my shoes.

He stopped and looked at me. His hair was like a halo with the small light behind him. I was secretly pleased that I could still make out his freckles in the dimness. He kissed my forehead, then smirked at me and said “I want to make sure you to understand what’s happening here. I plan on having my way with you.” I started to laugh, but then he bit my neck and licked my ear. My body was thrumming with anticipation. I needed to touch him again.

I grabbed him around the waist and began pulling his shirt off. Mine quickly followed, and he once again attacked my neck. He kissed his way down my stomach and undid my belt. I started to worry that I was being a bit passive. I mean, he was really taking charge here. Then my body reminded me that I didn’t give a fuck so I stopped thinking. Before I could reach for his fly he slammed me chest-down over the kitchen table and pulled down my jeans so fast that my feet were lifted into the air as he tugged them off. He grabbed my cheeks and spread them. I could feel his nose between them. I heard him inhale deeply and let out a shaky breath. “Mine,” he whispered.

Oh. Godric.

He was smelling me. I thought that I couldn't possibly get any more turned on than this. That's when he murmured something that sounded like "delicious" and started thrusting his tongue into my hole. He licked me. He fucked me with his tongue. He swirled it around and tasted me. He bit me. He went on for what seemed like ages darting and lapping and nibbling. I was wrong. I could get more turned on.

"I have to fuck you now, Harry."

And with that he thrust into me. At that point I was positively dripping with Ron, so he slid right in. There. My mind no longer functioned. I couldn't form a coherent word. I just grunted and whined as he pounded relentlessly into me. I heard him say things like so good and fuck and tight with every thrust. I could feel his fingernails dig into my hips harder and harder. Oh, this was ecstasy. This was bliss.

Suddenly he stopped and leaned over me in a hug. His hips were shaking uncontrollably and I could feel his breath touch me and his come fill me.

He breathed for a few moments and then pulled out and flipped me around. He lifted my arse onto the table and threw my knees over his shoulders as he knelt down. Just like that he swallowed me down and he sucked. Hard. Merlin, this was nothing like it was with Colin. He looked up at me and we locked eyes. That's when I came; shouting. I think I said yes. I know I said Ron.

We both said love. And found we didn’t need words after that.

Endnote: Broom is used as a euphemism for lady bits, which I would never have known about if I hadn’t read that UK porn mag in high school.