hackthis_archive (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
hackthis_archive) wrote2006-01-09 04:20 pm
hackthis_archive) wrote2006-01-09 04:20 pm
HP – NL/TN – When I Get Home to You
I wroted something! I wroted something!*
*Yes, I know that's not grammatically correct. SK, don't pass out on me.
For the Buon Natale of![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
circe_tigana ethrosdemon put out the first part of her crazy Draco!Veela/Harry!Mate and Theodore as solicitor story. This comes… somewhere after that. I think.
Harry Potter
When I Get Home to You
Neville greets Theodore at the front door, not with soft kisses and kind hands, but with brute strength and quick movements. Theodore's travel robes have been repaired thirty-eight times in the last four months, and judging by unrelenting nature of Neville's kisses, tonight will be number thirty-nine.
Wand and travel satchel clatter to the floor as Theodore is shoved against the wall and divested of his habiliment, and he would say something, but he's occupied with snogging Neville and tangling his hands in the belt loops of Neville's trousers.
The brightness of Neville's eyes when he pulls away makes Theodore's stomach flutter, he licks at the teeth marks Neville's leaves on his lower lip and raises an eyebrow. The wall is unyielding against Theodore's spine, and Neville's body is only slightly more giving against his pelvis and chest. Neville's already hard, and Theodore's cock twitches when Neville ruts against him shamelessly.
Theodore was having a thought of some sort when he arrived home; the fact that it's now been lost will unquestionably cost one of his clients thousands of Galleons, but in light of Neville's hands unfastening his flies, pushing his shirt up and his trousers down, it's a small sacrifice.
"Miss me, did you?" he asks with a smirk, his breath catching as Neville's fingers stroke lightly over his cock and along his thigh.
"Always," Neville says with dark eyes. His smile is full of a thousand things that Theodore is learning all over again, and Theodore's smirk turns into a hiss as Neville digs his nails into the thin skin over Theodore's hipbone.
Theodore's being marked, and it's painful and insanely hot at the same time, and Theodore's cock twitches when Neville drops to his knees and pushes Theodore's legs as far apart they'll go within the confines of the trousers around his ankles.
A choked off sound escapes from Theodore's throat as Neville nuzzles his cock, licking languidly at the head and then blowing warm breath against wet skin. Theodore's head bangs against the wall, and he sees little black stars in his vision when he looks down at Neville before him. There's a confidence to Neville that Theodore's watched grow, and he's reaped the fruits of his labours many times over.
In his youth, Neville was unremarkable to most people. As a boy he was pudgy and then lanky, clumsy and then less-so, in possession of two left feet and no talent, and then in possession of two left feet and enough talent to survive a war that left most of his classmates dead.
As a man, Neville is all solidity. He's taller than Theodore by four inches, though he tends to slouch when he thinks Theodore isn't looking. He out-weighs Theodore by almost two stone, but it's all compact muscle, which Theodore has mapped relentlessly with his tongue and mouth. It doesn't hurt that sometimes Neville likes to push Theodore against the wall and have his way with him. This didn't actually take as much training as Theodore thought it would've, but it's also entirely possible that Neville learned something while they were broken up.
Theodore doesn't like to think about such things. Ever. His time is much better spent petting Neville's bristly hair, and giving himself temporary brain damage in their front hall.
Theodore is not the sort to analyse his relationships; things are the way they are, and he spends his days trying to sort out why his clients are as idiotic as they are, he doesn't have the time or inclination to worry about anything else. Being a top solicitor means knowing all about the evil that wizards and witches do, and Theodore spends so much time immersed in that cesspool that for a long time it never occurred to him to worry about what was happening under his own roof. Which is why Neville left him in the first place. Actually, that's a very vague approximation of why Neville originally left Theodore, but the long version tends to concern Draco playing King of the Universe, Blaise and Theodore having it off, and Draco using his Veela powers to marry Harry Potter, a union of such horror and shame that Theodore can't even think on it without needing a stiff drink or six.
That is all in the past now though. Their present is Neville's mouth on Theodore's cock, and Theodore panting as though he might never catch his breath again. Theodore's entire life is now devoted to giving Neville what he wants, when he wants it, and if Neville wants to shag on the statue of Paracelsus in Blaise's foyer, then that's what he will have.
Theodore nearly bites off the tip of his tongue when he comes hard enough to make his knees tremble, and he pants for several seconds, watching Neville lick at the corners of his mouth blithely.
There's a strange power flux in their relationship at the moment, and it's made Theodore slightly wary of saying or doing the wrong thing, but yanking Neville to his feet and snogging him hard enough to jar his brain doesn't require a great degree of thought. Nor does shoving his hand down Neville's trousers and jerking him off until Neville's panting against his neck and whimpering in his ear.
When Neville comes all over his hand, Theodore discreetly wipes it off on the wallpaper, because this is their home now and they can do whatever they want. And even if Neville's not the boy that Theodore fell in love with, he's become a man that Theodore can't live without, and Theodore will move sky and earth to make sure that Neville doesn't leave him again.
-end-
*Yes, I know that's not grammatically correct. SK, don't pass out on me.
For the Buon Natale of
circe_tigana ethrosdemon put out the first part of her crazy Draco!Veela/Harry!Mate and Theodore as solicitor story. This comes… somewhere after that. I think. Harry Potter
Neville greets Theodore at the front door, not with soft kisses and kind hands, but with brute strength and quick movements. Theodore's travel robes have been repaired thirty-eight times in the last four months, and judging by unrelenting nature of Neville's kisses, tonight will be number thirty-nine.
Wand and travel satchel clatter to the floor as Theodore is shoved against the wall and divested of his habiliment, and he would say something, but he's occupied with snogging Neville and tangling his hands in the belt loops of Neville's trousers.
The brightness of Neville's eyes when he pulls away makes Theodore's stomach flutter, he licks at the teeth marks Neville's leaves on his lower lip and raises an eyebrow. The wall is unyielding against Theodore's spine, and Neville's body is only slightly more giving against his pelvis and chest. Neville's already hard, and Theodore's cock twitches when Neville ruts against him shamelessly.
Theodore was having a thought of some sort when he arrived home; the fact that it's now been lost will unquestionably cost one of his clients thousands of Galleons, but in light of Neville's hands unfastening his flies, pushing his shirt up and his trousers down, it's a small sacrifice.
"Miss me, did you?" he asks with a smirk, his breath catching as Neville's fingers stroke lightly over his cock and along his thigh.
"Always," Neville says with dark eyes. His smile is full of a thousand things that Theodore is learning all over again, and Theodore's smirk turns into a hiss as Neville digs his nails into the thin skin over Theodore's hipbone.
Theodore's being marked, and it's painful and insanely hot at the same time, and Theodore's cock twitches when Neville drops to his knees and pushes Theodore's legs as far apart they'll go within the confines of the trousers around his ankles.
A choked off sound escapes from Theodore's throat as Neville nuzzles his cock, licking languidly at the head and then blowing warm breath against wet skin. Theodore's head bangs against the wall, and he sees little black stars in his vision when he looks down at Neville before him. There's a confidence to Neville that Theodore's watched grow, and he's reaped the fruits of his labours many times over.
In his youth, Neville was unremarkable to most people. As a boy he was pudgy and then lanky, clumsy and then less-so, in possession of two left feet and no talent, and then in possession of two left feet and enough talent to survive a war that left most of his classmates dead.
As a man, Neville is all solidity. He's taller than Theodore by four inches, though he tends to slouch when he thinks Theodore isn't looking. He out-weighs Theodore by almost two stone, but it's all compact muscle, which Theodore has mapped relentlessly with his tongue and mouth. It doesn't hurt that sometimes Neville likes to push Theodore against the wall and have his way with him. This didn't actually take as much training as Theodore thought it would've, but it's also entirely possible that Neville learned something while they were broken up.
Theodore doesn't like to think about such things. Ever. His time is much better spent petting Neville's bristly hair, and giving himself temporary brain damage in their front hall.
Theodore is not the sort to analyse his relationships; things are the way they are, and he spends his days trying to sort out why his clients are as idiotic as they are, he doesn't have the time or inclination to worry about anything else. Being a top solicitor means knowing all about the evil that wizards and witches do, and Theodore spends so much time immersed in that cesspool that for a long time it never occurred to him to worry about what was happening under his own roof. Which is why Neville left him in the first place. Actually, that's a very vague approximation of why Neville originally left Theodore, but the long version tends to concern Draco playing King of the Universe, Blaise and Theodore having it off, and Draco using his Veela powers to marry Harry Potter, a union of such horror and shame that Theodore can't even think on it without needing a stiff drink or six.
That is all in the past now though. Their present is Neville's mouth on Theodore's cock, and Theodore panting as though he might never catch his breath again. Theodore's entire life is now devoted to giving Neville what he wants, when he wants it, and if Neville wants to shag on the statue of Paracelsus in Blaise's foyer, then that's what he will have.
Theodore nearly bites off the tip of his tongue when he comes hard enough to make his knees tremble, and he pants for several seconds, watching Neville lick at the corners of his mouth blithely.
There's a strange power flux in their relationship at the moment, and it's made Theodore slightly wary of saying or doing the wrong thing, but yanking Neville to his feet and snogging him hard enough to jar his brain doesn't require a great degree of thought. Nor does shoving his hand down Neville's trousers and jerking him off until Neville's panting against his neck and whimpering in his ear.
When Neville comes all over his hand, Theodore discreetly wipes it off on the wallpaper, because this is their home now and they can do whatever they want. And even if Neville's not the boy that Theodore fell in love with, he's become a man that Theodore can't live without, and Theodore will move sky and earth to make sure that Neville doesn't leave him again.
-end-
no subject