Coup de Grace - (Snape/?? -- NC-17)
Jul. 22nd, 2004 03:29 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
themostepotenteTitle: Coup de Grace (literally, 'stroke of mercy')
Pairing: Snape/??
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Snape is confronted by a student of his past at a Masquerade Ball.
Kinks: Heavy frottage, bit o' mindgaming
Disclaimer: Oh, so not mine. This market's been cornered.
A/N: This is for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
ficbymarks and florahart, because those two never cease to amaze me with their work.
Incidentally, betaed byflorahart and cave_canem.
Additional comments found here.
It was yet another Malfoy affair -- sweet and decadently rich like a chocolate truffle. The wedding of Draco Malfoy to Pansy Parkinson splashed the front of every noteworthy newspaper including the Daily Prophet. Enemy and ally alike were in attendance at the social event of the season. Lucius Malfoy couldn't have been more proud. Even Harry Potter wouldn't dare steal the limelight from his precious son. What Lucius didn't know was that Harry had no interest in doing so. Another man - this one fashionably on time according to his watch would have that honour.
It was all very amusing to Severus Snape, a permanent fixture at the buffet table. It was the only time he ate for more than sustenance. He'd made short work of the poached salmon and was just about to dress a cracker with Beluga caviar when the double doors of the Malfoy ballroom opened and in he swaggered.
He was quite possibly the prettiest man Snape had ever seen. Long, flowing curls down to the curve of his arse. An elegant and stately presence befitting royalty -- or Malfoy virtue. But make no mistake, this man was no Malfoy - Auror's robes were worn self-importantly like the fan of a peacock's tail. Only the stranger's face, handsome thought it must've been, was obscured from the crowd -- just as every other face was. It was, after all, a masquerade ball.
But it wasn't just the stranger's looks that Snape and several others had noticed. It was the confidence he exuded - oozing from every pore of his flawless skin. He seemed to glow from within - all light and beauty. Snape supposed the perky blonde with mind-bending curves and the delicate china doll of a boy on each of the stranger's arms didn't lessen his charm.
Fireworks, thought Snape as he contemplated the Chilean sea bass. Narcissa had to be wetting her pricey knickers at the prospect of a man half her age chatting her up. Oh yes, wasn't that like a spark to a wick? Lucius was no longer the most handsome man in the room it seemed. Ignite a second fuse, a third; he smirked, as the stranger bowed before Narcissa, asking her to dance. You couldn't buy this sort of entertainment. Well, you could, actually. Pity for Lucius, both the laughs and the tab were at his expense. Any minute now, Snape mused, and the patriarch of Malfoy would seethe with rage. Fireworks, indeed - Lucius' temper would explode like a string of wizard crackers.
Snape watched the pair until the song ended, returning his attentions to the buffet table. He was just about to double-dip a cracker when a voice from behind startled the snake out of his skin.
"Isn't that considered tasteless?"
Snape turned in a flash of black robes, spidery fingers extended and propped on the table. The feeling was similar to being caught masturbating by his mother - indulging in guilty pleasures. "Isn't what considered tasteless?"
"Double-dipping, of course," the stranger said with a heart stopping smile. "And," he pointed with his index finger; "you've got some Beluga on your face -- just there."
Snape casually wiped the corner of his mouth with a cocktail napkin. "Honestly, I had no idea the Ministry would send an Auror to arrest me for etiquette indecency."
The stranger laughed - both of his cheeks dimpled. "Nonsense, Severus - I find your lack of decorum refreshing. It's much, much too stuffy in here. A little too for my tastes."
"You know my name? I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage. You are--?" Snape couldn't help but eye the exquisite stretch of neck on the Auror. Lovely and arched - just like a swan. He didn't need the snow-white mask with the reddish bill for the masquerade. The stranger was elegant all on his own.
"Pleased to make your reacquaintance," he bowed fancily, "It's been awhile. Almost eight years to the day."
Snape quickly did the math in his head. Hmm, he thought, this one graduated with Potter. "You won't tell me your name. Perhaps you will tell me your House?"
"All in due time. And yes, I'll allow that much. Gryffindor to the core."
"Gryffindor," Snape smirked. "I might have known. You seem unfamiliar. I gather you didn't make an impression."
"Oh, I made an impression all right," the stranger said, indicating the tray behind Snape. "Make up a cracker for me, won't you?"
Snape did. Not because he generally obeyed orders issued in such a demanding fashion, but because this one actually had the cheek to ask without the perfunctory please and thank you. Just the same, he handed it to the handsome man.
The stranger took it from Snape, popping it into his mouth whole. For all his comeliness, the face he made at the taste couldn't have been uglier. "So I see caviar does taste like shoe polish after all," he said, plucking a snifter of amber liquid from a passing waiter. He cleansed his palate with the Armangac, blanching too at this taste.
Snape found this amusing. "That's a three-hundred galleon bottle of cognac."
"Lucius fucking overpaid," he said, reaching around Severus to place the snifter on the table. He burped quietly, but even this was inexcusably charming. "Come - dance with me."
"Dance with you?" Snape asked, just to be sure his ears hadn't deceived him. "Wouldn't you rather ask Narcissa Malfoy?"
"She's already had a spot on my dance card tonight. I never dance the same dance twice," the stranger said with a casual smile. "I never ask twice for that matter."
"So if I say 'no', you won't ask me a second time?" This one was much too cocky for his own good, Snape thought.
"It won't come to that." The stranger offered his arm with a slight bow to the side.
Oh yes, cocky didn't even begin to describe his arrogance.
"Very well," Snape said with cavalier indifference. "I've a few minutes to kill." He locked his arm with the stranger's and allowed himself to be led to the dance floor as a woman would.
The stranger led, of course. He was very light on his feet - mimicking the swan's graceful glide. So much in common that it was hardly considered coincidental. Snape couldn't help but be curious. He couldn't help but ask. And so he did.
"Were you an ugly ducking once, swan?" Snape asked, swirling to the left.
"Oh, I was once, but no more. Tonight it will serve as a reminder."
The pair began to clear the floor, waltzing to and fro in the pattern of a five-pointed star. Despite long legs, Snape could barely keep up. He thought perhaps continuing their conversation would diminish the fact that he had two left feet and was utterly outclassed. "Ah, so you're out to prove a point. Rather childish, wouldn't you agree? I mean, who's to say this person you're out to impress will even care - or remember?"
"A predictable facet of his personality," the stranger said as his fingers closed about Snape's waist. "I know blind men that could read this individual without Braille."
"You seem to think you know a lot about this 'individual.' Continue, I'd should like to hear more." Snape dug his longish nails into the stranger's hand as the press of the Auror's ring made contact with the side of his bony knuckle. There was little he could do, however, but smile inwardly at the periodic sweeps of their crotches. But Snape was certain the pretty man was nothing more than a cock tease.
"Speaking on the level - if I had to compare him with a plant, I'd choose an amanita mushroom." The Auror looked pretty pleased with his comparison, ready to follow up when questioned. And he knew he would be.
"A fungus?" Snape scoffed. "That should put you into his good graces."
"Think about it. Thrives on darkness. Highly toxic personality. Deadly if…consumed." The stranger boldly ran a finger down Snape's chest to better emphasize his meaning of 'consumed.'
The music stopped, and Snape unkindly removed the Auror's hand so that they could both clap as a show of respect along with the other dancers. "I couldn't wager a guess. I know not of whom you speak."
"Hypothetically speaking, what do you think this individual would have to say about me?" the Auror asked, watching the dance floor empty.
"Hypothetically speaking, I think he would compare you to a gladiolus - a late bloomer. Pretty when in blossom, but apart from aesthetic purposes, mostly useless. Or," Snape said, cutting the stranger off before he could reply, "A Venus Fly Trap. Likes to think he's capable of ensnarement, but you see he's not quite up to the task of Devil's Snare." Snape smiled dangerously. "Hypothetically speaking, of course."
"Really? How enlightening," the stranger said with a nod, smiling despite the gloomy telling.
"This is where I take my leave of you in favour of abstemious pursuits. I've been deemed the designated Apparator. I thank you for the dance."
"Your date left shortly after I arrived. Mumbled something about his escort spending far too much time at the buffet table." The stranger caught up with Snape and whispered something very leading into his ear. "Why don't we get out of here?"
Snape looked around to ascertain the location of his date. It was true; he was gone. Damn. Snape had nowhere to go but home, and his chances of getting laid blew out of the door when his escort deserted him without word. "Very well," Snape said. "Follow me."
The stranger followed Snape into the coat check room, wizard locking the door behind them. He advanced on Snape, wedging him between Lucius' fur-lined cloak and Narcissa's full-length mink. "I feel like I'm in a Muggle confessional."
"Do you have any sins to confess, Auror?" Snape was hoping he'd start with his identity. From there he'd determine the course of action.
"Bless me, Potions Master, it's been eight years since my last confession." The stranger lifted Snape's chin with the tip of his index finger, tilting his head back.
"Go on," Snape urged, curling his fingers around the coat rod above him.
"I've had impure thoughts. Thoughts of seduction. Thoughts of bittersweet surrender. But mostly revenge." The stranger pressed his lips to Snape's Adam's apple, breathing in the scent of his sandalwood. Together with the spice of his patchouli, it was more intoxicating to his senses than pheromones.
"Revenge?" Snape sighed, the feel of soft fur caressing his cheek as he turned his head.
"Revenge - for his repeated belittlement, his cruelty, and his making me desire him as a result. All that I am-" The stranger opened his mouth, stretching his bottom lip before sliding it back up Snape's jugular.
"You are because of me," Snape finished for him. It was a statement rather than a question. He'd suspected as early as their first exchange that the stranger specifically sought him out. It was the only time he was ever approached - when someone wanted something. Snape wasn't certain if he should be more flattered than disgusted. This man let eight years go by in bitter silence awaiting the perfect opportunity; presumably to show him he was destined for bigger and better things despite the bullying and assurances that he fail. Snape's cock, however, would not make such judgement calls, rising to the occasion, tenting the front of his lightweight summer dress robes.
The stranger pressed closer, angling himself to grind his hipbone against Snape's cock and crush his own aching prick against the crease of Snape's thigh and groin. "When you look out the window, you don't see the beauty beyond the pane," he began, tugging at the shoulder of Snape's robe in seesawing motions as he rode Snape's leg. "You see the dirt and grime that collects in the corners - and the slivers of chipped paint. They are distractions, or most likely reminders."
"Merlin, you talk too much," Snape hissed, as he slid his leg around the stranger's back, using the heel on the bottom of his shoe as a spur to cue the horse. Snape prodded the Auror forward to regain the exquisite friction from before, using the rod above him to push off and speed up or slow down, as he desired.
The sound of fabric giving way echoed the stranger's frustration as he peeled it back to reveal a pale shoulder. Snape had selective hearing. He only heard what he wanted and needed. He didn't want to admit that he might actually learn something apart from his own gospel. He was a selfish and embittered man, but he could listen, dammit, when truths were revealed. The stranger resisted the urge to clamp down out of anger, instead planting a row of soft kisses to grow on lust. He had a green thumb and could make anything grow -- even in the barren soil of Snape's ego.
"Gods, yesss," Snape growled, throwing his head back. This was more like it. When he wasn't prattling incessantly about the past, the Auror was quite attentive. He had the softest lips, and even the faintest caresses made Snape's arsehole prickle as he imagined them tightly pressed against his entrance, tongue delving inside.
"Has it registered," the stranger said, swiveling his hips furiously to accommodate both their burning needs, "who I am?" Sliding a hand up Snape's dipping robe, the stranger untied the drawstring of Snape's braies, loosening them.
"I don't fucking care!" Snape growled. He was bouncing hard on the ball of his only touching foot, anything to get himself off so he wouldn't have to listen any more, crashing his cock into the shifting hipbone.
The stranger stomped the front of Snape's foot, the edge of his boot heel digging into flesh between bone and tendon. "Sometimes you have to stomp the grass to startle the snake. You're going to listen to me. You're going to hear. Think back!" he hissed, slowing his pace so Snape wouldn't come until he knew the truth. "Think back eight years. I sat next to Granger. Curly hair. Round about the middle. I know you know, Snape!"
"Shut up, you fucking prat! I…DON'T…CARE!" Snape snarled when the stranger moved himself just out of striking distance. He could deal with the shooting pain in his foot, but he would not tolerate the denial of orgasm. Not when he was this fucking close.
"You tried to poison my fucking toad! You made me sick before AND after class," the stranger cried, ripping off Snape's ophidian mask. "Idiot boy! Dunderhead! Worthless! Useless! Don't help him Granger, let him fail on his own! Is it coming to you now?"
Snape turned his head.
"LOOK AT ME YOU FUCKING COWARD!" The stranger reached back into Snape's robes and took his cock by stranglehold, stroking him against his will. "I'm not a fucking idiot! I'm-"
It took Snape ten rapid strokes to come. The Auror's last words seemed to leave his lips in slow motion before his confession. Snape could not turn his head to look into the eyes of the boy he tormented so long ago when the realization set in.
"Neville Longbottom," they said in unison softly.
He held Snape's cock down against the leg not wrapped around his waist, letting the come run down it until it rolled over his bunched stocking and collected in the crevice of the buckle notch. Letting go, he gave Snape one last kiss on the cheek. "I've just opened the window for you, but it's up to you to look through it."
Snape drew his robes about him, wetting the inside of the lighter one to mop at the embarrassment left behind.
Neville left without another word, leaving the door open a crack -- as an invitation to follow.
Fin
Pairing: Snape/??
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Snape is confronted by a student of his past at a Masquerade Ball.
Kinks: Heavy frottage, bit o' mindgaming
Disclaimer: Oh, so not mine. This market's been cornered.
A/N: This is for
ficbymarks and florahart, because those two never cease to amaze me with their work.Incidentally, betaed by
florahart and cave_canem.Additional comments found here.
It was yet another Malfoy affair -- sweet and decadently rich like a chocolate truffle. The wedding of Draco Malfoy to Pansy Parkinson splashed the front of every noteworthy newspaper including the Daily Prophet. Enemy and ally alike were in attendance at the social event of the season. Lucius Malfoy couldn't have been more proud. Even Harry Potter wouldn't dare steal the limelight from his precious son. What Lucius didn't know was that Harry had no interest in doing so. Another man - this one fashionably on time according to his watch would have that honour.
It was all very amusing to Severus Snape, a permanent fixture at the buffet table. It was the only time he ate for more than sustenance. He'd made short work of the poached salmon and was just about to dress a cracker with Beluga caviar when the double doors of the Malfoy ballroom opened and in he swaggered.
He was quite possibly the prettiest man Snape had ever seen. Long, flowing curls down to the curve of his arse. An elegant and stately presence befitting royalty -- or Malfoy virtue. But make no mistake, this man was no Malfoy - Auror's robes were worn self-importantly like the fan of a peacock's tail. Only the stranger's face, handsome thought it must've been, was obscured from the crowd -- just as every other face was. It was, after all, a masquerade ball.
But it wasn't just the stranger's looks that Snape and several others had noticed. It was the confidence he exuded - oozing from every pore of his flawless skin. He seemed to glow from within - all light and beauty. Snape supposed the perky blonde with mind-bending curves and the delicate china doll of a boy on each of the stranger's arms didn't lessen his charm.
Fireworks, thought Snape as he contemplated the Chilean sea bass. Narcissa had to be wetting her pricey knickers at the prospect of a man half her age chatting her up. Oh yes, wasn't that like a spark to a wick? Lucius was no longer the most handsome man in the room it seemed. Ignite a second fuse, a third; he smirked, as the stranger bowed before Narcissa, asking her to dance. You couldn't buy this sort of entertainment. Well, you could, actually. Pity for Lucius, both the laughs and the tab were at his expense. Any minute now, Snape mused, and the patriarch of Malfoy would seethe with rage. Fireworks, indeed - Lucius' temper would explode like a string of wizard crackers.
Snape watched the pair until the song ended, returning his attentions to the buffet table. He was just about to double-dip a cracker when a voice from behind startled the snake out of his skin.
"Isn't that considered tasteless?"
Snape turned in a flash of black robes, spidery fingers extended and propped on the table. The feeling was similar to being caught masturbating by his mother - indulging in guilty pleasures. "Isn't what considered tasteless?"
"Double-dipping, of course," the stranger said with a heart stopping smile. "And," he pointed with his index finger; "you've got some Beluga on your face -- just there."
Snape casually wiped the corner of his mouth with a cocktail napkin. "Honestly, I had no idea the Ministry would send an Auror to arrest me for etiquette indecency."
The stranger laughed - both of his cheeks dimpled. "Nonsense, Severus - I find your lack of decorum refreshing. It's much, much too stuffy in here. A little too for my tastes."
"You know my name? I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage. You are--?" Snape couldn't help but eye the exquisite stretch of neck on the Auror. Lovely and arched - just like a swan. He didn't need the snow-white mask with the reddish bill for the masquerade. The stranger was elegant all on his own.
"Pleased to make your reacquaintance," he bowed fancily, "It's been awhile. Almost eight years to the day."
Snape quickly did the math in his head. Hmm, he thought, this one graduated with Potter. "You won't tell me your name. Perhaps you will tell me your House?"
"All in due time. And yes, I'll allow that much. Gryffindor to the core."
"Gryffindor," Snape smirked. "I might have known. You seem unfamiliar. I gather you didn't make an impression."
"Oh, I made an impression all right," the stranger said, indicating the tray behind Snape. "Make up a cracker for me, won't you?"
Snape did. Not because he generally obeyed orders issued in such a demanding fashion, but because this one actually had the cheek to ask without the perfunctory please and thank you. Just the same, he handed it to the handsome man.
The stranger took it from Snape, popping it into his mouth whole. For all his comeliness, the face he made at the taste couldn't have been uglier. "So I see caviar does taste like shoe polish after all," he said, plucking a snifter of amber liquid from a passing waiter. He cleansed his palate with the Armangac, blanching too at this taste.
Snape found this amusing. "That's a three-hundred galleon bottle of cognac."
"Lucius fucking overpaid," he said, reaching around Severus to place the snifter on the table. He burped quietly, but even this was inexcusably charming. "Come - dance with me."
"Dance with you?" Snape asked, just to be sure his ears hadn't deceived him. "Wouldn't you rather ask Narcissa Malfoy?"
"She's already had a spot on my dance card tonight. I never dance the same dance twice," the stranger said with a casual smile. "I never ask twice for that matter."
"So if I say 'no', you won't ask me a second time?" This one was much too cocky for his own good, Snape thought.
"It won't come to that." The stranger offered his arm with a slight bow to the side.
Oh yes, cocky didn't even begin to describe his arrogance.
"Very well," Snape said with cavalier indifference. "I've a few minutes to kill." He locked his arm with the stranger's and allowed himself to be led to the dance floor as a woman would.
The stranger led, of course. He was very light on his feet - mimicking the swan's graceful glide. So much in common that it was hardly considered coincidental. Snape couldn't help but be curious. He couldn't help but ask. And so he did.
"Were you an ugly ducking once, swan?" Snape asked, swirling to the left.
"Oh, I was once, but no more. Tonight it will serve as a reminder."
The pair began to clear the floor, waltzing to and fro in the pattern of a five-pointed star. Despite long legs, Snape could barely keep up. He thought perhaps continuing their conversation would diminish the fact that he had two left feet and was utterly outclassed. "Ah, so you're out to prove a point. Rather childish, wouldn't you agree? I mean, who's to say this person you're out to impress will even care - or remember?"
"A predictable facet of his personality," the stranger said as his fingers closed about Snape's waist. "I know blind men that could read this individual without Braille."
"You seem to think you know a lot about this 'individual.' Continue, I'd should like to hear more." Snape dug his longish nails into the stranger's hand as the press of the Auror's ring made contact with the side of his bony knuckle. There was little he could do, however, but smile inwardly at the periodic sweeps of their crotches. But Snape was certain the pretty man was nothing more than a cock tease.
"Speaking on the level - if I had to compare him with a plant, I'd choose an amanita mushroom." The Auror looked pretty pleased with his comparison, ready to follow up when questioned. And he knew he would be.
"A fungus?" Snape scoffed. "That should put you into his good graces."
"Think about it. Thrives on darkness. Highly toxic personality. Deadly if…consumed." The stranger boldly ran a finger down Snape's chest to better emphasize his meaning of 'consumed.'
The music stopped, and Snape unkindly removed the Auror's hand so that they could both clap as a show of respect along with the other dancers. "I couldn't wager a guess. I know not of whom you speak."
"Hypothetically speaking, what do you think this individual would have to say about me?" the Auror asked, watching the dance floor empty.
"Hypothetically speaking, I think he would compare you to a gladiolus - a late bloomer. Pretty when in blossom, but apart from aesthetic purposes, mostly useless. Or," Snape said, cutting the stranger off before he could reply, "A Venus Fly Trap. Likes to think he's capable of ensnarement, but you see he's not quite up to the task of Devil's Snare." Snape smiled dangerously. "Hypothetically speaking, of course."
"Really? How enlightening," the stranger said with a nod, smiling despite the gloomy telling.
"This is where I take my leave of you in favour of abstemious pursuits. I've been deemed the designated Apparator. I thank you for the dance."
"Your date left shortly after I arrived. Mumbled something about his escort spending far too much time at the buffet table." The stranger caught up with Snape and whispered something very leading into his ear. "Why don't we get out of here?"
Snape looked around to ascertain the location of his date. It was true; he was gone. Damn. Snape had nowhere to go but home, and his chances of getting laid blew out of the door when his escort deserted him without word. "Very well," Snape said. "Follow me."
The stranger followed Snape into the coat check room, wizard locking the door behind them. He advanced on Snape, wedging him between Lucius' fur-lined cloak and Narcissa's full-length mink. "I feel like I'm in a Muggle confessional."
"Do you have any sins to confess, Auror?" Snape was hoping he'd start with his identity. From there he'd determine the course of action.
"Bless me, Potions Master, it's been eight years since my last confession." The stranger lifted Snape's chin with the tip of his index finger, tilting his head back.
"Go on," Snape urged, curling his fingers around the coat rod above him.
"I've had impure thoughts. Thoughts of seduction. Thoughts of bittersweet surrender. But mostly revenge." The stranger pressed his lips to Snape's Adam's apple, breathing in the scent of his sandalwood. Together with the spice of his patchouli, it was more intoxicating to his senses than pheromones.
"Revenge?" Snape sighed, the feel of soft fur caressing his cheek as he turned his head.
"Revenge - for his repeated belittlement, his cruelty, and his making me desire him as a result. All that I am-" The stranger opened his mouth, stretching his bottom lip before sliding it back up Snape's jugular.
"You are because of me," Snape finished for him. It was a statement rather than a question. He'd suspected as early as their first exchange that the stranger specifically sought him out. It was the only time he was ever approached - when someone wanted something. Snape wasn't certain if he should be more flattered than disgusted. This man let eight years go by in bitter silence awaiting the perfect opportunity; presumably to show him he was destined for bigger and better things despite the bullying and assurances that he fail. Snape's cock, however, would not make such judgement calls, rising to the occasion, tenting the front of his lightweight summer dress robes.
The stranger pressed closer, angling himself to grind his hipbone against Snape's cock and crush his own aching prick against the crease of Snape's thigh and groin. "When you look out the window, you don't see the beauty beyond the pane," he began, tugging at the shoulder of Snape's robe in seesawing motions as he rode Snape's leg. "You see the dirt and grime that collects in the corners - and the slivers of chipped paint. They are distractions, or most likely reminders."
"Merlin, you talk too much," Snape hissed, as he slid his leg around the stranger's back, using the heel on the bottom of his shoe as a spur to cue the horse. Snape prodded the Auror forward to regain the exquisite friction from before, using the rod above him to push off and speed up or slow down, as he desired.
The sound of fabric giving way echoed the stranger's frustration as he peeled it back to reveal a pale shoulder. Snape had selective hearing. He only heard what he wanted and needed. He didn't want to admit that he might actually learn something apart from his own gospel. He was a selfish and embittered man, but he could listen, dammit, when truths were revealed. The stranger resisted the urge to clamp down out of anger, instead planting a row of soft kisses to grow on lust. He had a green thumb and could make anything grow -- even in the barren soil of Snape's ego.
"Gods, yesss," Snape growled, throwing his head back. This was more like it. When he wasn't prattling incessantly about the past, the Auror was quite attentive. He had the softest lips, and even the faintest caresses made Snape's arsehole prickle as he imagined them tightly pressed against his entrance, tongue delving inside.
"Has it registered," the stranger said, swiveling his hips furiously to accommodate both their burning needs, "who I am?" Sliding a hand up Snape's dipping robe, the stranger untied the drawstring of Snape's braies, loosening them.
"I don't fucking care!" Snape growled. He was bouncing hard on the ball of his only touching foot, anything to get himself off so he wouldn't have to listen any more, crashing his cock into the shifting hipbone.
The stranger stomped the front of Snape's foot, the edge of his boot heel digging into flesh between bone and tendon. "Sometimes you have to stomp the grass to startle the snake. You're going to listen to me. You're going to hear. Think back!" he hissed, slowing his pace so Snape wouldn't come until he knew the truth. "Think back eight years. I sat next to Granger. Curly hair. Round about the middle. I know you know, Snape!"
"Shut up, you fucking prat! I…DON'T…CARE!" Snape snarled when the stranger moved himself just out of striking distance. He could deal with the shooting pain in his foot, but he would not tolerate the denial of orgasm. Not when he was this fucking close.
"You tried to poison my fucking toad! You made me sick before AND after class," the stranger cried, ripping off Snape's ophidian mask. "Idiot boy! Dunderhead! Worthless! Useless! Don't help him Granger, let him fail on his own! Is it coming to you now?"
Snape turned his head.
"LOOK AT ME YOU FUCKING COWARD!" The stranger reached back into Snape's robes and took his cock by stranglehold, stroking him against his will. "I'm not a fucking idiot! I'm-"
It took Snape ten rapid strokes to come. The Auror's last words seemed to leave his lips in slow motion before his confession. Snape could not turn his head to look into the eyes of the boy he tormented so long ago when the realization set in.
"Neville Longbottom," they said in unison softly.
He held Snape's cock down against the leg not wrapped around his waist, letting the come run down it until it rolled over his bunched stocking and collected in the crevice of the buckle notch. Letting go, he gave Snape one last kiss on the cheek. "I've just opened the window for you, but it's up to you to look through it."
Snape drew his robes about him, wetting the inside of the lighter one to mop at the embarrassment left behind.
Neville left without another word, leaving the door open a crack -- as an invitation to follow.
Fin
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no subject
Date: 2004-07-22 01:24 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-07-22 04:08 pm (UTC)Thanks for reading, Sophie :-)
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Date: 2004-07-22 01:39 am (UTC)Your Snape is so spot on. And Neville, I really like this Neville.
Brill work as always.
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Date: 2004-07-22 04:10 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-07-22 02:16 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-07-22 04:16 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-07-22 02:30 am (UTC)For once I actually manged to not skip to the end to see who it was. Although I fear it may have driven me crazy had you not told who it was, I'm oddly glad it was Neville. He sounds so very pretty, and oh dear that was good and hot and lovely
You rock a lot.
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Date: 2004-07-22 04:35 pm (UTC)If I rock -- you rock with me :-)
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Date: 2004-07-22 05:10 pm (UTC)I almost always skip to the end. But the writing in this case was insistent enough that I just--couldn't, if that makes sense.
*glee*
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Date: 2004-07-22 03:12 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-07-22 04:14 pm (UTC)Thank you Mz. Floof :-)
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Date: 2004-07-22 11:02 am (UTC)i really liked the dialogue throughout all this
mmm frottage
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Date: 2004-07-22 04:12 pm (UTC)Where are your icons by the way?
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Date: 2004-07-23 04:22 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-07-22 04:51 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-07-22 04:56 pm (UTC)My cheap and tawdry affairs list could really use you :-)
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Date: 2004-07-22 05:05 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-07-22 05:37 pm (UTC)How did you do -- trying to guess the secret identity?
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Date: 2004-07-22 06:12 pm (UTC)