sra_danvers (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
sra_danvers) wrote2010-04-28 06:17 pm
sra_danvers) wrote2010-04-28 06:17 pm
Unexpected, by Kay Morgan
I'd like to share with all of you a little pearl that was given as a present to me and my group of crazy H-slash-lover friends. The author is the wonderful Ravenclaw KAY MORGAN. She does not publish in the fandom, so I'm doing it for her in the hopes that you too enjoy her great writing style, mature and concise, the way I like it. The story's hot, her characters are solid and respectful to the canon and it deals with a part of the series that is hardly developed in the seventh book although there may be a lot of backstory in there...
I hope you enjoy this Neville/Snape and, if you like it as much as I did, do let me know so that the author can read your comments too.
As I said, it is not mine, it's Kay Morgan's.
Unexpected
By Kay Morgan
Genre: Slash. Rating: NC-17. Pairing: Neville/Snape
Summary: Things are spiralling down for Neville at Hogwarts under the Death Eater rule. And then the unexpected happens.
Neville spit on the floor. There wasn’t any blood. Good, he thought. Alecto and Amycus Carrow liked to end their Crucios with a flourish that sent their unfortunate victim crashing into the wall behind. But Neville had found he was tougher than he gave himself credit for. He still had all his teeth.
He got up with some effort and patted the dust from his trousers, not so much to appear nonchalant as to conceal the trembling of his hands. His breathing was so troubled he was almost wheezing, but he was not going to break down. Not today, at least. He looked up.
Alecto was looking at her nails. She was completely uninterested in him, quite unlike her brother. Amycus was staring at him and his narrowed eyes didn’t bode well. He sneered unpleasantly and said, “Well, well, Longbottom. It looks like you are going to need a different kind of discipline to learn your lesson.” The leer he gave Neville made his stomach turn. He knew his newly found courage wouldn’t get him through that.
At that same instant the door of the classroom opened slowly and a third-year Ravenclaw girl, half-paralysed with fear, stepped uncertainly into the room. She said in a small voice, “Professors… er… I’m very sorry to interrupt but I… I bring a message from the Headmaster.” She stopped for a second and looked at the Carrows with huge eyes. They both seemed surprised but remained quiet, so she continued, “The Headmaster wishes to remind Mr. Longbottom that he is already late for his daily appointment at the Headmaster’s office and that he would better present himself there immediately or be prepared for the punishment to be proportional to his offence”. She drew in a deep breath after the long sentence that she had, so obviously, memorised under duress. At the same time, she had the presence of mind to step out and close the door again.
Neville looked back at the Carrows warily. Alecto looked like a huge codfish with her mouth hanging open in surprise. Amycus seemed furious but he made a dismissive gesture with his hand towards Neville and turned his back on him.
He walked hurriedly to the door and exited the classroom, his mind wheeling. My daily appointment? What is the greasy bastard talking about?, he thought wildly. He hesitated for a moment in the hallway but he then remembered the unknown punishment that awaited him, and set off towards the Headmaster’s office with a grim determination and a sinking heart.
The gargoyle stepped aside as soon as it saw him. Once he reached the top of the revolving staircase he was immediately ordered to enter by that familiar, blood-curling voice. He did so and quickly approached the raised desk, gathering his courage and trying not to look at his surroundings, painfully reminiscent of happier times. He stopped just at the foot of the dais, straightened up and stood with his arms crossed, waiting. You don’t scare me now the way you used to, he mused. Now I know now there are worse things than cruel words.
Snape looked up from a piece of parchment and fixed his eyes on Neville’s. He looked sickly pale and forbidding as usual, but Neville noticed the slight sag of his shoulders and the dark circles under his eyes. He was somewhat glad that the murdering bastard wasn’t sleeping either. But that silent gaze was starting to make him nervous. He concentrated on not averting his eyes from those black, bottomless pits.
“I must confess I am impressed that you have had the guts to resist to Carrow to the point of him wanting to rape you into submission,” said the man at last. Neville’s eyes opened as wide as saucers, his arms falling to his sides. Has the bastard been listening? What is this all about? Snape went on, “I suppose you’re aware that he won’t stop now until he’s had his way with you.” Neville gulped audibly. His stomach churned worse than ever.
“I won’t go without a fight,” he managed to answer. Snape raised his chin and considered him again with a smug expression that Neville didn’t know how to interpret.
“I know. You have changed a lot, Longbottom. I would have sworn you didn’t have it in you,“ said the older man. Neville couldn’t help snorting. Amazed, he watched Snape curl his thin lips into a tenuous, bitter smile. This had to be one of the signs of the Apocalipsis, he was sure of it.
Snape got up from his armchair and walked slowly around the desk until he was looking down on Neville from the edge of the dais. The young man didn’t dare to move a muscle. Snape spoke again, “The only way you could escape from him would be if someone superior to Carrow in the Death Eater rank were to claim you as their personal object of entertainment”. He said the last words slowly, as if reluctant to uttering them.
What does he mean? Does he want to rape me instead? Neville felt his blood running from his limbs and an icy fist closing around his heart. He crossed his arms over his chest in an involuntary gesture.
At this, Snape looked away and turned to face the desk. When he spoke, his voice sounded clearly embarrassed. “Of course, only the appearance of intercourse would be required”. Almost in a whisper, he added: “Contrary to Death Eater customs, I do not enjoy non-consensual intimacy”.
Neville had to muster a force of will never known to him before, just to keep his sanity in the face of those words. A whirlpool of images, faces and memories rolled in his mind. He could almost feel, as physical blows, the pieces falling into place. He felt terrified, elated, angry, unsure, alleviated. Most of all things, he felt impelled to do something, anything.
He stepped on the dais and approached Snape’s rigid figure. He softly placed his fingertips on the back of the other man’s hand. Snape started a bit but didn’t move. Neville’s voice was hoarse when he said, “Would… Would you do that for me?” Snape turned slowly to face him. Neville had never seen him look so uncertain. The older man turned his hand outwards and grasped the fingers that had touched him first. Neville gulped and boldly raised his other hand. He touched one of the black buttons of Snape’s shirt with a trembling finger.
Snape sighed and took a step forward. He wound his free arm around Neville’s waist and pulled the young man towards him. Neville flushed at the contact of their bodies but didn’t look away. And then Snape kissed him. It was a just a firm brush of the lips, but Neville melted against him.
For the next few minutes there was a frenzy of lips, tongues, hands, bodies. Snape held him impossibly tight, his mouth devouring him. Nobody had ever kissed Neville like that, with such subtlety and desire. When he finally let him come up for air, Neville’s hands were buried in the long, black hair and he was gasping. Snape moved his lips to the younger man’s cheek, ear, neck. He said, “I knew you preferred men.” Neville moaned, excited out of his mind.
And then Snape took his chin in his hand and made him look up again. “This should be enough,” he said urgently. “We’ll mess your clothes a little more and you can go. They are waiting in the hallway. They will get the message clearly.”
Neville’s breathing faltered. He cleared his throat awkwardly and said, “You don’t want me then? I thought just a moment ago…” He lowered his eyes, “Never mind”.
“Look at me,” said Snape. He did. “I don’t want to force you,” he added. “You are so… exquisite.” Neville felt his heart swelling, he couldn’t help it. “I am not inexperienced,” he answered. “I want this”. The black eyebrows rose in wonderment, making Neville blush again. Snape chuckled, “You really have changed a lot”. And he kissed him again. “So have you,” Neville dared to reply once those deft lips departed from his mouth to caress his ear. He got a bite in the sensitive lobe for his cheek that made him moan with abandon.
In a matter of seconds, he found himself sitting on the edge of the desk. His shirt was completely unbuttoned and Snape was urging him to lie back. Those devilish lips, that hot tongue, they were unashamedly exploring his chest. He felt a twinge of self-consciousness but it was rapidly forgotten when the man pinning him to the wooden surface proceeded to lightly bite his left nipple. He took his time with it as well as the right one. Meanwhile, Neville could only speak in soft cries and guttural sounds. When Snape’s lips travelled further down and kissed his rounded belly with fervour, he couldn’t help himself. He whispered, “You’re incredible...Oh.”
His former professor straightened and looked at his face so intensely that he felt his trouser front tighten even more. A discomfort that wouldn’t bother him for much longer, as Snape then busied himself with his buckle and zipper. When his hard cock sprang free he wasn’t given the time to feel embarrassed. Letting out a sound of pleasure, the older man closed his fist firmly around the swollen member and pulled. Neville cried out, craning his neck back and closing his eyes.
“Please,” Neville said. “I... I’ll come”.
“I want to see you. I want to see your pleasure,” panted Snape. His voice so cultivated and deep, was pure sex now that his breathing was ragged with desire.
“Yes... But with you.”
Neville reached for the other man’s placket. Snape obliged by unbuttoning both his shirt and trousers with a silent spell. Neville wanted to touch him so badly. He rubbed the pale chest absent-mindedly with one hand, the other and all his concentration focused on the thick, reddened cock that was now softly sliding against his own. He caressed it with firm fingers, the way he liked it himself. Snape sighed and sought his mouth for more hot kisses. He pushed Neville back onto the table and massaged both of his cocks with knowing fingers, while the younger man embraced him and buried his nails on Snape’s sweaty back.
“Oh, God!” cried Neville. He was lost in the rhythmic movement, the sliding cocks, the sweat, the precome, the weight of Snape’s body on his, the basso voice murmuring in his ear, “So good... So beautiful.” Neville keened as his orgasm struck him: a delicious moment of tension followed by a reeling fall into himself. As he landed, he felt Snape tense and make his donation to the glorious mess between their bodies with an erotic grunt.
Holding his weight on one arm, Snape caressed Neville’s side with sweaty fingertips, brushing his lips on his temple as the younger man got back his breath. “You must go now,” he said after a few moments. Neville tensed. Snape kissed him softly on the lips and added, “But don’t forget our appointment tomorrow.” And then Neville felt he didn’t have any reason to hide his smile.
They got up and Snape reached for his wand. Neville stopped him, “No cleaning charms. I bet Amycus will be able to smell you on me with that overgrown turnip he has for a nose.” Snape chucked and kissed him slowly, rearranging his and the other’s clothes with a spell. Neville still looked freshly debauched with his open collar, flushed cheeks and swollen lips. He kissed the Headmaster one last time and walked reluctantly towards the door.
He paused at the entrance and turned to look at Snape. The dark-haired man looked more alive than he could ever recall seeing him, with colour in his face and a black fire in his eyes. In a quiet tone Neville said, “This was unexpected. But I won’t be late tomorrow.”
Snape smiled crookedly and replied, “Who knows? Perhaps you would enjoy the punishment.”
THE END
I hope you enjoy this Neville/Snape and, if you like it as much as I did, do let me know so that the author can read your comments too.
As I said, it is not mine, it's Kay Morgan's.
Unexpected
By Kay Morgan
Genre: Slash. Rating: NC-17. Pairing: Neville/Snape
Summary: Things are spiralling down for Neville at Hogwarts under the Death Eater rule. And then the unexpected happens.
Neville spit on the floor. There wasn’t any blood. Good, he thought. Alecto and Amycus Carrow liked to end their Crucios with a flourish that sent their unfortunate victim crashing into the wall behind. But Neville had found he was tougher than he gave himself credit for. He still had all his teeth.
He got up with some effort and patted the dust from his trousers, not so much to appear nonchalant as to conceal the trembling of his hands. His breathing was so troubled he was almost wheezing, but he was not going to break down. Not today, at least. He looked up.
Alecto was looking at her nails. She was completely uninterested in him, quite unlike her brother. Amycus was staring at him and his narrowed eyes didn’t bode well. He sneered unpleasantly and said, “Well, well, Longbottom. It looks like you are going to need a different kind of discipline to learn your lesson.” The leer he gave Neville made his stomach turn. He knew his newly found courage wouldn’t get him through that.
At that same instant the door of the classroom opened slowly and a third-year Ravenclaw girl, half-paralysed with fear, stepped uncertainly into the room. She said in a small voice, “Professors… er… I’m very sorry to interrupt but I… I bring a message from the Headmaster.” She stopped for a second and looked at the Carrows with huge eyes. They both seemed surprised but remained quiet, so she continued, “The Headmaster wishes to remind Mr. Longbottom that he is already late for his daily appointment at the Headmaster’s office and that he would better present himself there immediately or be prepared for the punishment to be proportional to his offence”. She drew in a deep breath after the long sentence that she had, so obviously, memorised under duress. At the same time, she had the presence of mind to step out and close the door again.
Neville looked back at the Carrows warily. Alecto looked like a huge codfish with her mouth hanging open in surprise. Amycus seemed furious but he made a dismissive gesture with his hand towards Neville and turned his back on him.
He walked hurriedly to the door and exited the classroom, his mind wheeling. My daily appointment? What is the greasy bastard talking about?, he thought wildly. He hesitated for a moment in the hallway but he then remembered the unknown punishment that awaited him, and set off towards the Headmaster’s office with a grim determination and a sinking heart.
The gargoyle stepped aside as soon as it saw him. Once he reached the top of the revolving staircase he was immediately ordered to enter by that familiar, blood-curling voice. He did so and quickly approached the raised desk, gathering his courage and trying not to look at his surroundings, painfully reminiscent of happier times. He stopped just at the foot of the dais, straightened up and stood with his arms crossed, waiting. You don’t scare me now the way you used to, he mused. Now I know now there are worse things than cruel words.
Snape looked up from a piece of parchment and fixed his eyes on Neville’s. He looked sickly pale and forbidding as usual, but Neville noticed the slight sag of his shoulders and the dark circles under his eyes. He was somewhat glad that the murdering bastard wasn’t sleeping either. But that silent gaze was starting to make him nervous. He concentrated on not averting his eyes from those black, bottomless pits.
“I must confess I am impressed that you have had the guts to resist to Carrow to the point of him wanting to rape you into submission,” said the man at last. Neville’s eyes opened as wide as saucers, his arms falling to his sides. Has the bastard been listening? What is this all about? Snape went on, “I suppose you’re aware that he won’t stop now until he’s had his way with you.” Neville gulped audibly. His stomach churned worse than ever.
“I won’t go without a fight,” he managed to answer. Snape raised his chin and considered him again with a smug expression that Neville didn’t know how to interpret.
“I know. You have changed a lot, Longbottom. I would have sworn you didn’t have it in you,“ said the older man. Neville couldn’t help snorting. Amazed, he watched Snape curl his thin lips into a tenuous, bitter smile. This had to be one of the signs of the Apocalipsis, he was sure of it.
Snape got up from his armchair and walked slowly around the desk until he was looking down on Neville from the edge of the dais. The young man didn’t dare to move a muscle. Snape spoke again, “The only way you could escape from him would be if someone superior to Carrow in the Death Eater rank were to claim you as their personal object of entertainment”. He said the last words slowly, as if reluctant to uttering them.
What does he mean? Does he want to rape me instead? Neville felt his blood running from his limbs and an icy fist closing around his heart. He crossed his arms over his chest in an involuntary gesture.
At this, Snape looked away and turned to face the desk. When he spoke, his voice sounded clearly embarrassed. “Of course, only the appearance of intercourse would be required”. Almost in a whisper, he added: “Contrary to Death Eater customs, I do not enjoy non-consensual intimacy”.
Neville had to muster a force of will never known to him before, just to keep his sanity in the face of those words. A whirlpool of images, faces and memories rolled in his mind. He could almost feel, as physical blows, the pieces falling into place. He felt terrified, elated, angry, unsure, alleviated. Most of all things, he felt impelled to do something, anything.
He stepped on the dais and approached Snape’s rigid figure. He softly placed his fingertips on the back of the other man’s hand. Snape started a bit but didn’t move. Neville’s voice was hoarse when he said, “Would… Would you do that for me?” Snape turned slowly to face him. Neville had never seen him look so uncertain. The older man turned his hand outwards and grasped the fingers that had touched him first. Neville gulped and boldly raised his other hand. He touched one of the black buttons of Snape’s shirt with a trembling finger.
Snape sighed and took a step forward. He wound his free arm around Neville’s waist and pulled the young man towards him. Neville flushed at the contact of their bodies but didn’t look away. And then Snape kissed him. It was a just a firm brush of the lips, but Neville melted against him.
For the next few minutes there was a frenzy of lips, tongues, hands, bodies. Snape held him impossibly tight, his mouth devouring him. Nobody had ever kissed Neville like that, with such subtlety and desire. When he finally let him come up for air, Neville’s hands were buried in the long, black hair and he was gasping. Snape moved his lips to the younger man’s cheek, ear, neck. He said, “I knew you preferred men.” Neville moaned, excited out of his mind.
And then Snape took his chin in his hand and made him look up again. “This should be enough,” he said urgently. “We’ll mess your clothes a little more and you can go. They are waiting in the hallway. They will get the message clearly.”
Neville’s breathing faltered. He cleared his throat awkwardly and said, “You don’t want me then? I thought just a moment ago…” He lowered his eyes, “Never mind”.
“Look at me,” said Snape. He did. “I don’t want to force you,” he added. “You are so… exquisite.” Neville felt his heart swelling, he couldn’t help it. “I am not inexperienced,” he answered. “I want this”. The black eyebrows rose in wonderment, making Neville blush again. Snape chuckled, “You really have changed a lot”. And he kissed him again. “So have you,” Neville dared to reply once those deft lips departed from his mouth to caress his ear. He got a bite in the sensitive lobe for his cheek that made him moan with abandon.
In a matter of seconds, he found himself sitting on the edge of the desk. His shirt was completely unbuttoned and Snape was urging him to lie back. Those devilish lips, that hot tongue, they were unashamedly exploring his chest. He felt a twinge of self-consciousness but it was rapidly forgotten when the man pinning him to the wooden surface proceeded to lightly bite his left nipple. He took his time with it as well as the right one. Meanwhile, Neville could only speak in soft cries and guttural sounds. When Snape’s lips travelled further down and kissed his rounded belly with fervour, he couldn’t help himself. He whispered, “You’re incredible...Oh.”
His former professor straightened and looked at his face so intensely that he felt his trouser front tighten even more. A discomfort that wouldn’t bother him for much longer, as Snape then busied himself with his buckle and zipper. When his hard cock sprang free he wasn’t given the time to feel embarrassed. Letting out a sound of pleasure, the older man closed his fist firmly around the swollen member and pulled. Neville cried out, craning his neck back and closing his eyes.
“Please,” Neville said. “I... I’ll come”.
“I want to see you. I want to see your pleasure,” panted Snape. His voice so cultivated and deep, was pure sex now that his breathing was ragged with desire.
“Yes... But with you.”
Neville reached for the other man’s placket. Snape obliged by unbuttoning both his shirt and trousers with a silent spell. Neville wanted to touch him so badly. He rubbed the pale chest absent-mindedly with one hand, the other and all his concentration focused on the thick, reddened cock that was now softly sliding against his own. He caressed it with firm fingers, the way he liked it himself. Snape sighed and sought his mouth for more hot kisses. He pushed Neville back onto the table and massaged both of his cocks with knowing fingers, while the younger man embraced him and buried his nails on Snape’s sweaty back.
“Oh, God!” cried Neville. He was lost in the rhythmic movement, the sliding cocks, the sweat, the precome, the weight of Snape’s body on his, the basso voice murmuring in his ear, “So good... So beautiful.” Neville keened as his orgasm struck him: a delicious moment of tension followed by a reeling fall into himself. As he landed, he felt Snape tense and make his donation to the glorious mess between their bodies with an erotic grunt.
Holding his weight on one arm, Snape caressed Neville’s side with sweaty fingertips, brushing his lips on his temple as the younger man got back his breath. “You must go now,” he said after a few moments. Neville tensed. Snape kissed him softly on the lips and added, “But don’t forget our appointment tomorrow.” And then Neville felt he didn’t have any reason to hide his smile.
They got up and Snape reached for his wand. Neville stopped him, “No cleaning charms. I bet Amycus will be able to smell you on me with that overgrown turnip he has for a nose.” Snape chucked and kissed him slowly, rearranging his and the other’s clothes with a spell. Neville still looked freshly debauched with his open collar, flushed cheeks and swollen lips. He kissed the Headmaster one last time and walked reluctantly towards the door.
He paused at the entrance and turned to look at Snape. The dark-haired man looked more alive than he could ever recall seeing him, with colour in his face and a black fire in his eyes. In a quiet tone Neville said, “This was unexpected. But I won’t be late tomorrow.”
Snape smiled crookedly and replied, “Who knows? Perhaps you would enjoy the punishment.”
THE END