HPRareFest fic: A Problematic Snapdragon
Title: A Problematic Snapdragon
Author: enchanted_jae
Prompt: Prompt # 107 for emmatheslayer
Pairing(s): Dean/Neville
Word Count/Art Medium: 1,336
Rating: NC17
Warning(s)/Content: Explicit sexual activity
Disclaimer:Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Notes: My thanks to my beta, amorette, and thanks also to emmatheslayer for the great prompt.
Summary: Neville lies about the reason he is summoned away from his greenhouse. His relationship with Dean is a secret, after all.
Neville swished his wand in careful movements. Grafting rose bushes was tricky, but he had perfected the art. He was currently grafting part of a red rose bush to one that bore white roses. Once the grafting took, the entire bush would be relocated to the garden of a wealthy customer.
"Neville!" Hannah called. "Owl for you!"
Neville didn't dare pause in what he was doing; the work was too delicate. His attention remained focused on the rose bush as a bead of sweat trickled down his temple. Once the two pieces had been grafted into place, Neville used a second spell to seal the site. He let out a relieved breath, and the tension drained from his shoulders.
"Coming!" he responded. Neville tucked his wand up his sleeve and returned to the shop portion of his business.
Hannah was at the counter, as per usual, and she indicated a nondescript messenger owl with a wave of her hand. "It refused to let me remove the message," she said, looking slightly irritated.
Neville approached the owl, and it allowed him to untie the ribbon around its talon. He fed the bird a treat and retreated to his office to read the message. Neville recognized the handwriting as soon as he opened the parchment, and his heart rate sped up.
I need you. Come quickly.
In place of a signature, there was a naughty little doodle that was enchanted to move. Neville's face heated as he watched the tiny figures on the parchment. They were clearly engaged in intercourse, and they were just as clearly enjoying themselves. One figure looked like him, and the other looked exactly like his secret lover. Dean was a man of many talents.
Neville thought briefly of the work to be done, then he looked down at the parchment again. Decision made, he grabbed his cloak and returned to the shop.
"Hannah, I need to go out for awhile," said Neville. "One of my customers is having difficulty with a snapdragon. I shouldn't be gone for more than an hour," he added as he hurried out the door. Neville loped to the Apparation point in front of his shop and drew his wand.
***
Dean met him at the door of his studio, and Neville practically fell into his arms. Their lips met in a hungry kiss, hands grasping and groping at each other as Dean backed them inside. By some miracle, they made it to the sofa without tripping over anything else on the way. Dean leaned into Neville, and the two of them fell onto the sofa. Their mouths still clung together, and clothing was already being tugged at and pushed aside. Shoes hit the floor with a series of thuds.
Neville sighed in relief when his legs were free of confinement. He parted them eagerly, groaning when Dean immediately claimed the space between his thighs. Neville brought his knees up to gently cage his lover and keep Dean where he wanted him.
Dean fumbled in the pocket of his opened trousers, coming up with a small phial of lubricant. Dean rocked back on his heels, ignoring Neville's mild complaint. He poured lube over his fingers and reached between Neville's legs.
Neville gasped when Dean's fingers found his furled flesh with the ease of long practice. He moaned when one finger pushed inside of him. It was followed almost immediately by a second. Neville writhed on the sofa as Dean finger-fucked him, preparing him for what was promising to be a brilliant shag. His hips bucked up when Dean's fingers rubbed his prostate.
"Now, Dean, now," Neville begged.
Dean scissored his fingers a few times, stretching Neville's entrance. He pulled his fingers free and grasped his cock. Dean shuffled forward and pressed the tip of his prick to Neville's slick rim. He pushed forward, sinking slowly into his lover's snug hole.
"Ooooh," panted Neville, grimacing a little at the burn.
Dean planted both hands on the sofa and continued shoving his cock in. He knew that Neville preferred to adjust once he'd already bottomed out. Dean didn't halt his motion until his groin was nestled against Neville's.
"Okay there, Nev?"
"Y-yeah," Neville breathed out. He consciously relaxed his muscles and gave an experimental wiggle. Neville grinned when he felt Dean's cock jerk inside of him. He arched up and demanded more.
Dean happily gave it to him. He pulled out halfway and thrust back in, driving a guttural cry out of Neville. Dean repeated the motion, body rocking back and forth between his lover's legs as they shagged like randy boys on the sofa. It was reminiscent of Seventh year, when they had sneaked down to the common room in the middle of the night to shag, hoping they wouldn't get caught.
Neville lifted his hips, rising to meet each of Dean's strokes. He palmed his lover's arse cheeks, kneading the firm flesh and relishing the bunching and flexing of Dean's muscles. Neville groaned in pleasure, lost in the sensation of Dean's thick cock filling him over and over. It was brilliant, and he gave himself up to it. Too bad they were still sneaking around, shagging on the sly. It would be fantastic if they could be together like this every day and night.
He locked his ankles behind Dean's back, using his new leverage to pull Dean in deeper. Dean responded with a harsh groan, and the pace of his thrusts picked up. Neville's eyes rolled back, and he closed them as he clung to Dean's broad shoulders. "I--I'm close," he panted. He felt Dean smile against the damp skin of his neck.
Dean pulled back and drove in hard, rolling his hips as he did so.
"Ah!" gasped Neville. His lower body canted up, and the pressure in his balls increased. "Do that again," he begged.
Dean repeated the motion, and Neville keened aloud in pleasure. His eyes squeezed shut tight while his cock jerked and pulsed between them. Dean growled in approval, the sound huffing out of him each time he thrust into Neville. In moments, he was coming, too, voice gone throaty with lust.
Dean's arms gave out, and he sagged on top of Neville. Both of them were breathing hard. Dean pressed a kiss to Neville's jaw. "How long can you stay?"
Neville sighed in regret. "I can't," he replied. "I told Hannah I wouldn't be gone long."
Dean muttered a mild curse and pulled out slowly. Neville winced and scooted into a sitting position as soon as he was no longer tangled with his lover. "I'm sorry," he whispered.
"Sh, it's okay," said Dean, threading his fingers through Neville's hair and drawing him in for a lingering kiss. "We won't always have to sneak around," he added, once they broke for air. Dean stood and pulled Neville up with him. "Go on back to your greenhouse," he said. "I have an art commission I need to work on today."
Neville leaned in for another kiss. "I'll see you this weekend, yeah?" he murmured.
Dean smiled at him. "Absolutely," he replied.
They kissed again before Neville reluctantly took his leave.
***
Neville walked into the shop area of his greenhouse and floral business. He hung his cloak and concentrated on walking as smoothly as possible. A lingering soreness served as a naughty reminder of this afternoon's illicit activities.
"How was it?" asked Hannah.
Neville stumbled to a halt, and he felt his face flush with embarrassment. "S-sorry?"
"That snapdragon," said Hannah, barely glancing up at him as she used intricate flicks of her wand to create a lavish bow. "You mentioned a problematic snapdragon."
"Right," Neville responded, breathing a silent sigh of relief. "It's no longer snapping at its owner. It just needed some hands-on attention."
"You're certainly good with your hands," Hannah commented idly.
"Thanks," said Neville. He didn't mention that Dean would agree with her assessment. Instead, Neville smiled a secret smile and sauntered back to his rose bushes.
Cross-posted to hprarefest on DW
Cross-posted to hprarefest on LJ
Author: enchanted_jae
Prompt: Prompt # 107 for emmatheslayer
Pairing(s): Dean/Neville
Word Count/Art Medium: 1,336
Rating: NC17
Warning(s)/Content: Explicit sexual activity
Disclaimer:Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Notes: My thanks to my beta, amorette, and thanks also to emmatheslayer for the great prompt.
Summary: Neville lies about the reason he is summoned away from his greenhouse. His relationship with Dean is a secret, after all.
Neville swished his wand in careful movements. Grafting rose bushes was tricky, but he had perfected the art. He was currently grafting part of a red rose bush to one that bore white roses. Once the grafting took, the entire bush would be relocated to the garden of a wealthy customer.
"Neville!" Hannah called. "Owl for you!"
Neville didn't dare pause in what he was doing; the work was too delicate. His attention remained focused on the rose bush as a bead of sweat trickled down his temple. Once the two pieces had been grafted into place, Neville used a second spell to seal the site. He let out a relieved breath, and the tension drained from his shoulders.
"Coming!" he responded. Neville tucked his wand up his sleeve and returned to the shop portion of his business.
Hannah was at the counter, as per usual, and she indicated a nondescript messenger owl with a wave of her hand. "It refused to let me remove the message," she said, looking slightly irritated.
Neville approached the owl, and it allowed him to untie the ribbon around its talon. He fed the bird a treat and retreated to his office to read the message. Neville recognized the handwriting as soon as he opened the parchment, and his heart rate sped up.
I need you. Come quickly.
In place of a signature, there was a naughty little doodle that was enchanted to move. Neville's face heated as he watched the tiny figures on the parchment. They were clearly engaged in intercourse, and they were just as clearly enjoying themselves. One figure looked like him, and the other looked exactly like his secret lover. Dean was a man of many talents.
Neville thought briefly of the work to be done, then he looked down at the parchment again. Decision made, he grabbed his cloak and returned to the shop.
"Hannah, I need to go out for awhile," said Neville. "One of my customers is having difficulty with a snapdragon. I shouldn't be gone for more than an hour," he added as he hurried out the door. Neville loped to the Apparation point in front of his shop and drew his wand.
***
Dean met him at the door of his studio, and Neville practically fell into his arms. Their lips met in a hungry kiss, hands grasping and groping at each other as Dean backed them inside. By some miracle, they made it to the sofa without tripping over anything else on the way. Dean leaned into Neville, and the two of them fell onto the sofa. Their mouths still clung together, and clothing was already being tugged at and pushed aside. Shoes hit the floor with a series of thuds.
Neville sighed in relief when his legs were free of confinement. He parted them eagerly, groaning when Dean immediately claimed the space between his thighs. Neville brought his knees up to gently cage his lover and keep Dean where he wanted him.
Dean fumbled in the pocket of his opened trousers, coming up with a small phial of lubricant. Dean rocked back on his heels, ignoring Neville's mild complaint. He poured lube over his fingers and reached between Neville's legs.
Neville gasped when Dean's fingers found his furled flesh with the ease of long practice. He moaned when one finger pushed inside of him. It was followed almost immediately by a second. Neville writhed on the sofa as Dean finger-fucked him, preparing him for what was promising to be a brilliant shag. His hips bucked up when Dean's fingers rubbed his prostate.
"Now, Dean, now," Neville begged.
Dean scissored his fingers a few times, stretching Neville's entrance. He pulled his fingers free and grasped his cock. Dean shuffled forward and pressed the tip of his prick to Neville's slick rim. He pushed forward, sinking slowly into his lover's snug hole.
"Ooooh," panted Neville, grimacing a little at the burn.
Dean planted both hands on the sofa and continued shoving his cock in. He knew that Neville preferred to adjust once he'd already bottomed out. Dean didn't halt his motion until his groin was nestled against Neville's.
"Okay there, Nev?"
"Y-yeah," Neville breathed out. He consciously relaxed his muscles and gave an experimental wiggle. Neville grinned when he felt Dean's cock jerk inside of him. He arched up and demanded more.
Dean happily gave it to him. He pulled out halfway and thrust back in, driving a guttural cry out of Neville. Dean repeated the motion, body rocking back and forth between his lover's legs as they shagged like randy boys on the sofa. It was reminiscent of Seventh year, when they had sneaked down to the common room in the middle of the night to shag, hoping they wouldn't get caught.
Neville lifted his hips, rising to meet each of Dean's strokes. He palmed his lover's arse cheeks, kneading the firm flesh and relishing the bunching and flexing of Dean's muscles. Neville groaned in pleasure, lost in the sensation of Dean's thick cock filling him over and over. It was brilliant, and he gave himself up to it. Too bad they were still sneaking around, shagging on the sly. It would be fantastic if they could be together like this every day and night.
He locked his ankles behind Dean's back, using his new leverage to pull Dean in deeper. Dean responded with a harsh groan, and the pace of his thrusts picked up. Neville's eyes rolled back, and he closed them as he clung to Dean's broad shoulders. "I--I'm close," he panted. He felt Dean smile against the damp skin of his neck.
Dean pulled back and drove in hard, rolling his hips as he did so.
"Ah!" gasped Neville. His lower body canted up, and the pressure in his balls increased. "Do that again," he begged.
Dean repeated the motion, and Neville keened aloud in pleasure. His eyes squeezed shut tight while his cock jerked and pulsed between them. Dean growled in approval, the sound huffing out of him each time he thrust into Neville. In moments, he was coming, too, voice gone throaty with lust.
Dean's arms gave out, and he sagged on top of Neville. Both of them were breathing hard. Dean pressed a kiss to Neville's jaw. "How long can you stay?"
Neville sighed in regret. "I can't," he replied. "I told Hannah I wouldn't be gone long."
Dean muttered a mild curse and pulled out slowly. Neville winced and scooted into a sitting position as soon as he was no longer tangled with his lover. "I'm sorry," he whispered.
"Sh, it's okay," said Dean, threading his fingers through Neville's hair and drawing him in for a lingering kiss. "We won't always have to sneak around," he added, once they broke for air. Dean stood and pulled Neville up with him. "Go on back to your greenhouse," he said. "I have an art commission I need to work on today."
Neville leaned in for another kiss. "I'll see you this weekend, yeah?" he murmured.
Dean smiled at him. "Absolutely," he replied.
They kissed again before Neville reluctantly took his leave.
***
Neville walked into the shop area of his greenhouse and floral business. He hung his cloak and concentrated on walking as smoothly as possible. A lingering soreness served as a naughty reminder of this afternoon's illicit activities.
"How was it?" asked Hannah.
Neville stumbled to a halt, and he felt his face flush with embarrassment. "S-sorry?"
"That snapdragon," said Hannah, barely glancing up at him as she used intricate flicks of her wand to create a lavish bow. "You mentioned a problematic snapdragon."
"Right," Neville responded, breathing a silent sigh of relief. "It's no longer snapping at its owner. It just needed some hands-on attention."
"You're certainly good with your hands," Hannah commented idly.
"Thanks," said Neville. He didn't mention that Dean would agree with her assessment. Instead, Neville smiled a secret smile and sauntered back to his rose bushes.
Cross-posted to hprarefest on DW
Cross-posted to hprarefest on LJ