FIC: Coins
Title: Coins
Author/artist: krabapple
Recipient's name: bryonyraven
Rating: NC-17
Pairing(s): Neville/Harry
Disclaimer: I own nothing that belongs to J.K. Rowling or to anyone else.
Summary: Harry gets a visitor after moving into Grimmauld Place.
Warnings: None. It's pretty vanilla. Chair!sex and coming through clothes. Frottage.
Author's/artist's notes (if any): Written for 2006's merry_smutmas.
It was over a year before Harry moved the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix back to Grimmauld Place. Dumbledore had moved the Order after the fiasco at the Department of Mysteries, assuming rightly that the house had been compromised by Kreacher. So the Order had scattered to the four corners of the Earth; and then, Dumbledore had died.
Two years after the Order had vacated Number 12, Harry needed a permanent home. Grimmauld Place seemed as good a place as any.
He tried to keep as many people out of the house as possible. It was just as dark, just as dirty, and just as poisonous as it had been when Sirius lived there. Hermione had been appalled at the idea that not only was Harry relocating Order headquarters to the house, but that he was planning on living there as well. To Harry, it was merely a matter of convenience. He'd be spending most of his time with the Order, and if the Order was in his own house, the better. Kreacher was under his control now, and though Harry would have been just as happy to let the miserable little creature go, he knew he couldn't for fear that the elf would do exactly as he had the night Sirius had died. So Kreacher stayed at Grimmauld Place, a not-so-small reminder of everything the house had been before Harry became its owner.
While Ron and Hermione were frequent visitors, even a month into his stay Harry was still trying to organize the Order, call everyone to the new headquarters; they had yet to have even their first meeting. So it came as a surprise to Harry when, one quiet and small Tuesday afternoon, there was a knock on the door.
At first, Harry was disinclined to answer, except that only a member of the Order would know where the house was. Crawling out of his chair near the fire, Harry tiptoed through the main hall so as not to wake Mrs. Black's portrait, and opened the door.
Standing on the other side was Neville.
It was raining, and though he was carrying an umbrella, Neville was still approaching a state that could only be described as soaked. Water was running down from his wet hair into small rivers across his neck and into his collar; his shoes squished whenever he moved his feet even slightly. He smiled at Harry, blushing, looking abashed.
"It took me a while to transfigure that pencil into a proper umbrella," he said. "It kept coming out too small."
Harry felt himself smiling. "You're drenched. Come in," he said, opening the door wider to allow Neville entrance.
Harry put a finger to his lips and Neville nodded, both of them walking quietly down the hall, Neville following Harry closely. The only sound aside from their soft footsteps was the squelching sound of the rainwater in Neville's socks.
Harry led Neville down into the kitchen, where a fire was crackling merrily. Harry put a kettle on the stove and took some tea out of the cupboards while Neville chose a chair near the fire, gently taking off his water logged shoes.
"Haven't had many visitors come round, have you?" Neville asked, startling Harry a bit.
"What makes you say that?" Harry replied.
Neville gestured a hand at the table, where Harry's plate still sat from breakfast. "Breakfast for one, not much food in the cupboards." Neville paused, a slight smile accompanying his next words. "No milk for the tea."
Harry looked down at the mug that was steaming in his hand. "Sorry. I don't like milk with my tea," he said.
"I know," Neville said, smiling, accepting the mug from Harry. He took a long drink of the hot liquid before cradling the mug in his hands. "That's sort of my point."
"Right." Harry looked down. "Ron and Hermione visit," he said, pulling a chair up across from Neville and sitting down.
"I'm sure they do," Neville said softly. "They just don't have to be the only ones."
Harry shrugged, looked away. Neville took another long draught of tea.
"I'm working on getting the Order together," Harry said. "That last year at Hogwarts, we all had to finish school. I had to . . . well, I had to figure things out. But the letters are written and the owls are going out soon. They'll be people traipsing in and out of here like before."
Neville took this in. "Coming in and out but not staying."
"It's not like that." Harry's face started to flush.
"Hmmm." Neville reached into his pocket. "Why use owls? You could use these." He unfolded his hand so Harry could see what was in his palm: his coin from Dumbledore's Army.
Harry smiled and reached out, plucking the coin out of Neville's hand before he could stop himself. "I'd almost forgotten about these," he said.
"Not all of us have," Neville said softly.
Harry's smile disappeared. "Neville -"
"There are people in the world who care other than Hermione and Ron," Neville said.
"I know."
"Do you?"
"Trust me, Neville, there's going to be enough of this war to go around for everyone," Harry said, barking a bitter laugh.
"That's not what I meant," Neville said. "But I'm not sure about that, either." Neville stretched his hand out and took the coin back from Harry, sliding long and warm fingers across Harry's palm. Harry's hand remained outstretched and open for a moment, skin tingling, before he balled it back into a fist and withdrew it.
"What do you mean?" Harry asked.
"I mean . . . you never." Neville sighed. "I mean . . . ." Neville stopped, and leaned forward, until Harry could feel Neville's breath on his cheek. "This," he said, kissing Harry softly on the lips.
It took Harry a few moments to pull away; he allowed himself a small moment of warmth, Neville's lips moving against his, before he leaned back in his chair. "Neville -" he started.
"Neville -"
"Ginny," Neville said.
"No."
"Then -"
"I can't."
In answer, Neville leaned forward again, and kissed Harry even harder. This time, Harry moved faster, and pushed Neville away almost immediately, hands against Neville's chest. "No."
"Is it - I saw the way you used to look at Ron," Neville said.
Harry blushed furiously. "That's not it. I like. Well, you know what I like." Harry blushed again. "I just can't."
Neville sighed and looked down.
"Everyone close to me gets hurt. I can't let that happen again. Not ever," Harry said softly, twisting his fingers in front of him.
Neville looked up and saw the top of Harry's head where it was bowed before him. "Harry, that is such shite," he said.
"What?" Harry's head snapped up, and his eyes met Neville's.
"I said: that is such shite."
"Neville - "
"Harry. First of all, it's not all about you."
Harry's mouth opened, but he shut it almost as quickly.
"If people get hurt, it's because of Voldemort. It's because they were in the wrong place at the wrong time. It's because . . . they cared about you enough to want to help you. They cared enough about our world to want to help it. You're not the only one who's been hurt. You're not the only one who cares," Neville finished softly.
A flush rose in Harry's neck, but he stayed silent. He thought of Neville's gran with her stuffed vulture hat, of the gum wrappers Neville used to keep in his sock drawer, the ones he thought no one knew about, of the quiet ward on St. Mungo's where Neville's mum and dad spent their days, staring at walls and at each other. He looked at the coin, still in Neville's hand, glinting in the light of the fire.
"You don't have to do this all by yourself. You don't have to go it alone. You don't have to be alone," Neville said. "No one wants to be alone."
Harry thought of Neville working among his plants, solitary and silent, hands buried wrist deep in black soil, and this time he was the one who kissed Neville. The D.A. coin fell out of Neville's hand and to the floor with a clatter.
It was a hesitant kiss at first, just the barest of touch, a hint of breath, but Neville kissed back hard, almost greedily, and Harry's mouth opened, warm and wet and soft. They exchanged kisses for several minutes, until the sound of his heart beating madly was the only thing Harry heard in his ears.
Neville's hands came up to cup Harry's face, pulling him even closer, and Harry nearly fell out of his chair as he tilted forward. Neville pulled away and laughed softly; Harry closed his eyes and blushed.
Neville kissed each of Harry's eyelids in turn, gently, then stood up briefly before sliding onto Harry's lap. Harry gasped at the sudden move, and Neville swallowed the gasp with a sudden, hard, open mouthed kiss.
Still kissing Harry, Neville reached down under the hem of Harry's t-shirt, the tips of his fingers calloused from working in the greenhouse. As his fingers inched up under Harry's shirt, Harry's stomach muscles jumped, contracting even under Neville's feather light touch. Neville smiled into the kiss and adjusted himself on Harry's lap just slightly, increasing the friction there. Harry gasped again, moving his lips to Neville's ear, taking Neville's earlobe into his mouth and sucking until it was Neville's turn to gasp.
Neville's fingertips reached Harry's nipples, rubbing over the small nubs in slow circles. Harry's head tilted forward and rested on Neville's shoulder as Neville continued to pull and tease Harry's nipples until Harry was panting into Neville's neck.
Neville pushed Harry's shirt up to Harry's neck and leaned forward slightly, taking one of Harry's nipples into his mouth. Harry's head jerked up and he leaned back fully in his chair, squirming. Neville squirmed as well, matching Harry's movements until he felt Harry's cock hard against his own.
Neville stopped and looked up at Harry, looking into warm eyes and a glazed expression. He smiled lopsidedly.
"Okay, Harry?"
Harry nodded, kiss-swollen lips smiling. "S'alright, Neville," he said.
"Good," Neville said, snaking a hand between them and rubbing Harry's cock through his pants.
In response, Harry reached out and fisted the very end of Neville's hair between his fingers. The strands were still slightly damp from the rain and Harry started running them through his fingers before making a fist and pulling Neville in for a quick, hard kiss. Harry broke the kiss, pulling his own shirt up above his head before starting in on the buttons on Neville's oxford with fumbling fingers.
Neville looked down, watching Harry unbutton his shirt. He took a deep breath, his chest rising and falling, while Harry latched onto his pulse point, sucking hard. Harry finally reached the top button and moved his mouth there, licking across Neville's collarbone first before suckling the skin at the top of Neville's chest.
Neville rubbed his palm across Harry's cock again, causing Harry to push up against the pressure and moan softly against Neville's chest. "Neville . . ." Harry started.
"I know," Neville answered, pulling the zip down on Harry's jeans. Harry sighed as Neville unbuttoned the fly and reached in, pulling Harry's cock free. Neville let his thumb brush across the head and Harry's cock twitched just as Harry's whole body shivered.
Neville lifted his hand and licked his palm before reaching back down, covering as much of his fingers as possible in the fluid from Harry's cock. before taking the hardness in his hands and pumping gently until Harry moaned.
Neville kept up a slow and steady rhythm, until Harry was writhing in his chair. "Neville," Harry managed, kissing Neville again and sliding his hands down to Neville's arse, pushing Neville forward until Neville's cock was up against his own. At that, Neville's rhythm faltered, and when he picked up again it was faster, needier, and Harry squeezed harder, until the friction caused Neville to thrust against him, softly at first and then harder, until Neville let out a strangled moan and Harry felt the wetness spread across his own lap.
Neville managed to concentrate long enough to pump Harry's cock three more times until Harry came with a cry, burying his forehead between Neville's open collar and his neck.
For many moments, the only sound in the kitchen was the soft panting of both young men and the crackling of the fire as it popped in the fireplace.
Eventually, Harry brought his head up and kissed Neville softly, but intently. "I'm not the only one who cares," he said.
"No," Neville confirmed, wrapping his arms fully around Harry.
Harry sighed, resting his head on Neville's shoulder. "I'm going to have to buy some milk," he said, and Neville kissed the top of his head.
Author/artist: krabapple
Recipient's name: bryonyraven
Rating: NC-17
Pairing(s): Neville/Harry
Disclaimer: I own nothing that belongs to J.K. Rowling or to anyone else.
Summary: Harry gets a visitor after moving into Grimmauld Place.
Warnings: None. It's pretty vanilla. Chair!sex and coming through clothes. Frottage.
Author's/artist's notes (if any): Written for 2006's merry_smutmas.
It was over a year before Harry moved the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix back to Grimmauld Place. Dumbledore had moved the Order after the fiasco at the Department of Mysteries, assuming rightly that the house had been compromised by Kreacher. So the Order had scattered to the four corners of the Earth; and then, Dumbledore had died.
Two years after the Order had vacated Number 12, Harry needed a permanent home. Grimmauld Place seemed as good a place as any.
He tried to keep as many people out of the house as possible. It was just as dark, just as dirty, and just as poisonous as it had been when Sirius lived there. Hermione had been appalled at the idea that not only was Harry relocating Order headquarters to the house, but that he was planning on living there as well. To Harry, it was merely a matter of convenience. He'd be spending most of his time with the Order, and if the Order was in his own house, the better. Kreacher was under his control now, and though Harry would have been just as happy to let the miserable little creature go, he knew he couldn't for fear that the elf would do exactly as he had the night Sirius had died. So Kreacher stayed at Grimmauld Place, a not-so-small reminder of everything the house had been before Harry became its owner.
While Ron and Hermione were frequent visitors, even a month into his stay Harry was still trying to organize the Order, call everyone to the new headquarters; they had yet to have even their first meeting. So it came as a surprise to Harry when, one quiet and small Tuesday afternoon, there was a knock on the door.
At first, Harry was disinclined to answer, except that only a member of the Order would know where the house was. Crawling out of his chair near the fire, Harry tiptoed through the main hall so as not to wake Mrs. Black's portrait, and opened the door.
Standing on the other side was Neville.
It was raining, and though he was carrying an umbrella, Neville was still approaching a state that could only be described as soaked. Water was running down from his wet hair into small rivers across his neck and into his collar; his shoes squished whenever he moved his feet even slightly. He smiled at Harry, blushing, looking abashed.
"It took me a while to transfigure that pencil into a proper umbrella," he said. "It kept coming out too small."
Harry felt himself smiling. "You're drenched. Come in," he said, opening the door wider to allow Neville entrance.
Harry put a finger to his lips and Neville nodded, both of them walking quietly down the hall, Neville following Harry closely. The only sound aside from their soft footsteps was the squelching sound of the rainwater in Neville's socks.
Harry led Neville down into the kitchen, where a fire was crackling merrily. Harry put a kettle on the stove and took some tea out of the cupboards while Neville chose a chair near the fire, gently taking off his water logged shoes.
"Haven't had many visitors come round, have you?" Neville asked, startling Harry a bit.
"What makes you say that?" Harry replied.
Neville gestured a hand at the table, where Harry's plate still sat from breakfast. "Breakfast for one, not much food in the cupboards." Neville paused, a slight smile accompanying his next words. "No milk for the tea."
Harry looked down at the mug that was steaming in his hand. "Sorry. I don't like milk with my tea," he said.
"I know," Neville said, smiling, accepting the mug from Harry. He took a long drink of the hot liquid before cradling the mug in his hands. "That's sort of my point."
"Right." Harry looked down. "Ron and Hermione visit," he said, pulling a chair up across from Neville and sitting down.
"I'm sure they do," Neville said softly. "They just don't have to be the only ones."
Harry shrugged, looked away. Neville took another long draught of tea.
"I'm working on getting the Order together," Harry said. "That last year at Hogwarts, we all had to finish school. I had to . . . well, I had to figure things out. But the letters are written and the owls are going out soon. They'll be people traipsing in and out of here like before."
Neville took this in. "Coming in and out but not staying."
"It's not like that." Harry's face started to flush.
"Hmmm." Neville reached into his pocket. "Why use owls? You could use these." He unfolded his hand so Harry could see what was in his palm: his coin from Dumbledore's Army.
Harry smiled and reached out, plucking the coin out of Neville's hand before he could stop himself. "I'd almost forgotten about these," he said.
"Not all of us have," Neville said softly.
Harry's smile disappeared. "Neville -"
"There are people in the world who care other than Hermione and Ron," Neville said.
"I know."
"Do you?"
"Trust me, Neville, there's going to be enough of this war to go around for everyone," Harry said, barking a bitter laugh.
"That's not what I meant," Neville said. "But I'm not sure about that, either." Neville stretched his hand out and took the coin back from Harry, sliding long and warm fingers across Harry's palm. Harry's hand remained outstretched and open for a moment, skin tingling, before he balled it back into a fist and withdrew it.
"What do you mean?" Harry asked.
"I mean . . . you never." Neville sighed. "I mean . . . ." Neville stopped, and leaned forward, until Harry could feel Neville's breath on his cheek. "This," he said, kissing Harry softly on the lips.
It took Harry a few moments to pull away; he allowed himself a small moment of warmth, Neville's lips moving against his, before he leaned back in his chair. "Neville -" he started.
"Neville -"
"Ginny," Neville said.
"No."
"Then -"
"I can't."
In answer, Neville leaned forward again, and kissed Harry even harder. This time, Harry moved faster, and pushed Neville away almost immediately, hands against Neville's chest. "No."
"Is it - I saw the way you used to look at Ron," Neville said.
Harry blushed furiously. "That's not it. I like. Well, you know what I like." Harry blushed again. "I just can't."
Neville sighed and looked down.
"Everyone close to me gets hurt. I can't let that happen again. Not ever," Harry said softly, twisting his fingers in front of him.
Neville looked up and saw the top of Harry's head where it was bowed before him. "Harry, that is such shite," he said.
"What?" Harry's head snapped up, and his eyes met Neville's.
"I said: that is such shite."
"Neville - "
"Harry. First of all, it's not all about you."
Harry's mouth opened, but he shut it almost as quickly.
"If people get hurt, it's because of Voldemort. It's because they were in the wrong place at the wrong time. It's because . . . they cared about you enough to want to help you. They cared enough about our world to want to help it. You're not the only one who's been hurt. You're not the only one who cares," Neville finished softly.
A flush rose in Harry's neck, but he stayed silent. He thought of Neville's gran with her stuffed vulture hat, of the gum wrappers Neville used to keep in his sock drawer, the ones he thought no one knew about, of the quiet ward on St. Mungo's where Neville's mum and dad spent their days, staring at walls and at each other. He looked at the coin, still in Neville's hand, glinting in the light of the fire.
"You don't have to do this all by yourself. You don't have to go it alone. You don't have to be alone," Neville said. "No one wants to be alone."
Harry thought of Neville working among his plants, solitary and silent, hands buried wrist deep in black soil, and this time he was the one who kissed Neville. The D.A. coin fell out of Neville's hand and to the floor with a clatter.
It was a hesitant kiss at first, just the barest of touch, a hint of breath, but Neville kissed back hard, almost greedily, and Harry's mouth opened, warm and wet and soft. They exchanged kisses for several minutes, until the sound of his heart beating madly was the only thing Harry heard in his ears.
Neville's hands came up to cup Harry's face, pulling him even closer, and Harry nearly fell out of his chair as he tilted forward. Neville pulled away and laughed softly; Harry closed his eyes and blushed.
Neville kissed each of Harry's eyelids in turn, gently, then stood up briefly before sliding onto Harry's lap. Harry gasped at the sudden move, and Neville swallowed the gasp with a sudden, hard, open mouthed kiss.
Still kissing Harry, Neville reached down under the hem of Harry's t-shirt, the tips of his fingers calloused from working in the greenhouse. As his fingers inched up under Harry's shirt, Harry's stomach muscles jumped, contracting even under Neville's feather light touch. Neville smiled into the kiss and adjusted himself on Harry's lap just slightly, increasing the friction there. Harry gasped again, moving his lips to Neville's ear, taking Neville's earlobe into his mouth and sucking until it was Neville's turn to gasp.
Neville's fingertips reached Harry's nipples, rubbing over the small nubs in slow circles. Harry's head tilted forward and rested on Neville's shoulder as Neville continued to pull and tease Harry's nipples until Harry was panting into Neville's neck.
Neville pushed Harry's shirt up to Harry's neck and leaned forward slightly, taking one of Harry's nipples into his mouth. Harry's head jerked up and he leaned back fully in his chair, squirming. Neville squirmed as well, matching Harry's movements until he felt Harry's cock hard against his own.
Neville stopped and looked up at Harry, looking into warm eyes and a glazed expression. He smiled lopsidedly.
"Okay, Harry?"
Harry nodded, kiss-swollen lips smiling. "S'alright, Neville," he said.
"Good," Neville said, snaking a hand between them and rubbing Harry's cock through his pants.
In response, Harry reached out and fisted the very end of Neville's hair between his fingers. The strands were still slightly damp from the rain and Harry started running them through his fingers before making a fist and pulling Neville in for a quick, hard kiss. Harry broke the kiss, pulling his own shirt up above his head before starting in on the buttons on Neville's oxford with fumbling fingers.
Neville looked down, watching Harry unbutton his shirt. He took a deep breath, his chest rising and falling, while Harry latched onto his pulse point, sucking hard. Harry finally reached the top button and moved his mouth there, licking across Neville's collarbone first before suckling the skin at the top of Neville's chest.
Neville rubbed his palm across Harry's cock again, causing Harry to push up against the pressure and moan softly against Neville's chest. "Neville . . ." Harry started.
"I know," Neville answered, pulling the zip down on Harry's jeans. Harry sighed as Neville unbuttoned the fly and reached in, pulling Harry's cock free. Neville let his thumb brush across the head and Harry's cock twitched just as Harry's whole body shivered.
Neville lifted his hand and licked his palm before reaching back down, covering as much of his fingers as possible in the fluid from Harry's cock. before taking the hardness in his hands and pumping gently until Harry moaned.
Neville kept up a slow and steady rhythm, until Harry was writhing in his chair. "Neville," Harry managed, kissing Neville again and sliding his hands down to Neville's arse, pushing Neville forward until Neville's cock was up against his own. At that, Neville's rhythm faltered, and when he picked up again it was faster, needier, and Harry squeezed harder, until the friction caused Neville to thrust against him, softly at first and then harder, until Neville let out a strangled moan and Harry felt the wetness spread across his own lap.
Neville managed to concentrate long enough to pump Harry's cock three more times until Harry came with a cry, burying his forehead between Neville's open collar and his neck.
For many moments, the only sound in the kitchen was the soft panting of both young men and the crackling of the fire as it popped in the fireplace.
Eventually, Harry brought his head up and kissed Neville softly, but intently. "I'm not the only one who cares," he said.
"No," Neville confirmed, wrapping his arms fully around Harry.
Harry sighed, resting his head on Neville's shoulder. "I'm going to have to buy some milk," he said, and Neville kissed the top of his head.