FIC update! You Can Ride My Broomstick Any Day, Harry. (Snarry!)
Title: You Can Ride My Broomstick Any Day, Harry
Author: juxtaposed, aka just_juxtaposed
Summary: Severus and Harry deal with the repercussions of Harry's prank and Severus' words. (Sequel to Severus' Very. Bad. Day.) Also, Severus is drunk a lot, and Draco is very flamboyant.
Pairing: SNARRY.
Warnings: The good ol' stuff: Slash ahoy! Also, much foul language, slight kinkiness, and much sexual innuendo. Tis me, after all. There be also alcoholism, sort of. And silliness. :D
Rating: Errr, right now, language, I s'pose. Eventually sex. :D
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight - Bloody Horny, That's What
Yeah, right.
Severus ignored the snarky, uncannily-Draco-sounding voice in his head.
I have no interest in the brat’s sexual behavior!
After all, he was certainly not thinking of Harry’s typical Gryffindor go-get-‘em attitude, and how that might translate in the bedroom. And he was definitely not thinking about Harry demanding pleasure from him. Or about Harry pushing him down and just taking Severus in his mouth…
And his pants were most absolutely not too tight all of a sudden.
Severus shifted in his seat uncomfortably, immensely glad that he wore large, billowing robes.
Not that he needed the coverage, of course.
Or he wouldn’t, if only his godson would just leave him alone for a couple of minutes.
“Draco!” he barked out. Draco looked at him questioningly. “As much as I appreciate your company, isn’t there someplace else you need to be?”
Draco cocked his head, thinking for a moment. “No, not really.”
“That was not so much a question as a very polite suggestion, Draco,” Severus groaned.
“You don’t do ‘very polite’, Sev,” Draco pointed out.
Severus scowled.
“Oh, alright. Fine. I can take a hint. And well, it is time for dinner, isn’t it?” Draco stretched gracefully as he stood up. “I hear the House-Elves are serving sausages tonight. Imagine the possibilities!”
“I’ll choose to ignore that remark,” Severus muttered darkly. “I do not have particular need to know of your deviant inclinations. Just leave me be.”
“Oh, come on, Severus. Like you’d want to miss the opportunity to see Potter with a thick, fat, meaty sausage between his lips?” Draco asked pointedly.
Severus paused. The thought certainly was tempting… He shook himself before he could lapse into a full-on fantasy. “Very well, I shall accompany you there, then. Although this has nothing - nothing - to do with what you suggested.”
Draco nodded sagely, that damnable smirk on his face. “Of course not.”
Severus scowled, but waved his godson to the door ahead of him.
Not that he needed to…settle himself first, of course.
Together, they made their way towards the Great Hall. In the corridor before it, a head of messy black hair was making its way round the corner.
“Oh, look who it is…Potter!” Draco called out, sneaking a smug grin at Severus. “Yoo-hoo!”
Ahead of them, Harry stopped dead in his tracks to spin around slowly. Severus gaped at his godson. “Did you just say ‘yoo-hoo’?” he demanded in horror.
“Malfoy,” Harry began, sounding rather strangled. “Did you just say ‘yoo-hoo’?”
“Yes,” Draco said breezily, skipping ahead to reach Harry.
“Is that in season too?” Severus asked darkly, billowing his way to them. Draco raised an imperious eyebrow, but Harry chuckled.
“Well, I can tell when I’m not wanted,” Draco sniffed, and began to stalk off. “I’ll just go see to those sausages.”
Harry paused. “…I don’t really want to know, do I.”
“He’s looking forward to watching the fanciable boys eat them,” Severus explained, rolling his eyes.
“Oh. He’s certainly - open about his lifestyle preferences,” Harry mused.
Severus snorted. “Gay as Gilderoy Lockhart.”
Harry laughed.
Then they both suddenly realized that they were having a civil moment with each other.
“Er, right, well, I’ll just - go,” Harry stammered, trying to control where all his blood was rushing to. Honestly, what was wrong with him? Some amusing lines from Snape and one moment of camaraderie, and he was randy?
“Potter, wait.” Severus was horrified at the words that had escaped his mouth. He certainly enjoyed the moment with Harry, but what possible plausible reason could he employ to keep him there? Suddenly, horrifying moments of the past few days flashed into his mind, along with his vague suspicions.
“Yes, Professor?” Harry asked nervously. God, what was Snape trying to do to him? Could he tell that Harry was horny as hell? Was he about to be punished? He hoped so - he could do with a right proper spanking, especially if it was from Snape, he thought, and then found that he had to stop thinking about getting spanked by Snape and start thinking about how, exactly, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had produced seven children. He shuddered at the mental imagery.
Severus eyed Harry’s trembling form. Was it a sign of guilt? I’d like to make him shiver like that, he thought off-handedly, then reminded himself to stay on track. “As you know, I had a rather unusual disposition recently,” he began.
“Yes,” Harry nodded slowly, realizing where this was going, and hoping he didn’t look guilty. “Um, I’m glad to see that you are no longer -” he paused, then did a fair imitation of Severus’ drunken state, including the swaying.
“Yes,” Severus leveled a scowl at Harry, who immediately straightened up, not trying very hard to disguise his amusement. “Although I meant the state before that one. I believe that I may have said some - inappropriate things to you at the time.”
You can ride my broomstick any day, Harry.
They both flushed - they both remembered it very well.
“Well, um, that’s okay, really -” Harry stumbled over his words.
“I did not apologize,” Severus arched an eyebrow.
“No, no, of course not,” Harry nodded emphatically. “I’m just saying, I didn’t mind or anything, not that I think you should be going around saying those sort of things, but to me, it was alright -” He clapped both hands over his mouth in horror. “Sorry,” he mumbled out through between his fingers.
“Very well.” Severus tried to ignore the subtle implications behind Harry’s words. It didn’t work very well, and all he could think about suddenly was Harry riding his broomstick indeed. Panicking at the prospect of having a hard-on right as he was about to have dinner in front of the entire school, he suddenly felt the inexplicable urge to blame James Potter. Just as he did for everything that had ever gone wrong since their paths had crossed. “It’s all your fault,” he muttered darkly.
Except that James was no longer alive, he remembered belatedly, and Harry was the only suitable replacement at the moment.
“Huh?” Harry looked confused. Severus tried not to be irritated at how cute it was.
“I blame you,” he said slowly, wracking his brains for a good excuse. “For - what happened!”
“What happened?” Harry repeated unsurely, focusing more on the effort of stopping his trousers from tenting than worrying about possibly getting into trouble.
“What happened!” Severus growled. “You do remember, when I was actually being cheerful?”
God, that growl, Harry moaned inwardly, and immediately tried to think of Dumbledore at the beach. “Urgh, purple polka dots - I mean, yes, I remember, Sir - you think that’s my fault?”
“I do.” Severus paused. “What was that about polka dots?”
Harry flushed. “Nothing. Not Dumbledore! And it wasn’t my fault!”
“Really?” Severus narrowed his eyes, and then, to Harry’s alarm, leaned in precariously close. “Your cheeks are flushed. Your pupils are dilated, you are fidgeting, and you are beginning to sweat. All signs of guilt,” he purred in his lowest voice, and Harry swallowed hard. Jesus Christ, this man is sex on legs. And what legs…
“It’s not guilt,” he insisted, flinching as his voice raised in pitch. “Really.”
Severus raised an eyebrow. “Oh, no, Mr. Potter? What then, pray tell, is it?”
I’m bloody horny, that’s what! Harry took a deep breath. “Well, Professor, I’m bloody horny, that’s what.”
Both their eyes widened.
“Bugger, I really didn’t mean to say that,” Harry muttered under his breath, wincing as he awaited a response.
Severus worked his jaw open and shut silently a few times before he spoke. “Point well made, Mr. Potter,” he finally said. “Go on, then.” He waved weakly at the doors to the Great Hall.
“Um, why don’t you go first, Sir?” At the questioning look, Harry blushed. “Just, it’ll be a little while before I can walk -” He made a vague gesture to his trousers, and Severus tried very hard not to let his eyes settle on the sight.
“Very well. Might I say, I just hope your - predicament - has nothing to do with whatever you were thinking about our Headmaster, Mr. Potter. Lest I find that I ought to be very worried about your proclivities.”
Harry’s eyes widened, and he choked. “What? You think I - oh god no! Professor Dumbledore? God, no! Eurgh, I can’t believe you’d think it was - ugh! I -”
“Should be on your way to walking by now,” Severus smirked. Sure enough, Harry found that he had finally gotten rid of his pesky erection.
He shot a grateful look at Severus. “Thank you, Sir, I’ll - I’ll just be going now.” He bolted into the Great Hall and slid into his seat, avoiding Ron and Hermione’s curious looks and grabbing a goblet of pumpkin juice and downing it in one long gulp.
“What took you so long?” Hermione hissed.
Ron elbowed him. “You weren’t having another - er, problem again, were you, mate?”
Harry choked on his juice. “No!” His voice was shrill, even to himself, and he cleared his throat forcefully. “I mean, no.” Ron eyed him doubtfully. “Really,” Harry insisted, until he couldn’t stand the skeptical look any longer. “Alright, yes, but its all taken care off.”
Ron looked a mixture of smug and incredulous. “Cor, mate.”
“What are you two talking about?” Hermione asked, leaning in.
Harry shot Ron a warning look. “Nothing, really. I ran into Snape on the way down.” As he said this, the Potions Master in question entered the Hall, looking slightly ruffled.
Ron made a choking sound, whipping his head to face between his best friend and the fearsome professor. “Wait - you - Snape - blimey!” He turned to Harry, askance, a desperate note in his voice. “Please tell me he had nothing to do with your - problem.”
“Well,” Harry hesitated, as Ron started turning green.
“What’s this? Was Snape giving you problems, Harry?” Hermione asked, frowning.
“No - I mean, yeah, but - he helped take care of it!”
Ron let out a rather squeaky whimper, making Hermione look at him in puzzlement. “What is the matter with you, Ron? Oh, but I must say, Harry, that’s awfully nice of Snape. Even if he was the one who caused it in the first place…Ron? What’s wrong with you? Harry, what’s wrong with Ron?”
Harry looked over at where his best friend was currently slumped face down into his bowl of mushy peas, then over at Hermione, who was trying to fish him out. He contemplated explaining it, and paused.
Instead, he shrugged, and bit into a chip. “Er - can’t say I know, Hermione.”
Well. He had vowed to make Ron suffer, after all.
*****
Chapter Nine!
Okay, this will have to tide you lot over for a fair bit, since I'm probably NaNoWriMo-ing. Hope you enjoyed it! Leave me lots of comments. Or not. 'S'up to you.
Also, in a fairly unrelated note, I'm taking art requests for Christmas. Over here, if you're interested.
Author: juxtaposed, aka just_juxtaposed
Summary: Severus and Harry deal with the repercussions of Harry's prank and Severus' words. (Sequel to Severus' Very. Bad. Day.) Also, Severus is drunk a lot, and Draco is very flamboyant.
Pairing: SNARRY.
Warnings: The good ol' stuff: Slash ahoy! Also, much foul language, slight kinkiness, and much sexual innuendo. Tis me, after all. There be also alcoholism, sort of. And silliness. :D
Rating: Errr, right now, language, I s'pose. Eventually sex. :D
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight - Bloody Horny, That's What
Yeah, right.
Severus ignored the snarky, uncannily-Draco-sounding voice in his head.
I have no interest in the brat’s sexual behavior!
After all, he was certainly not thinking of Harry’s typical Gryffindor go-get-‘em attitude, and how that might translate in the bedroom. And he was definitely not thinking about Harry demanding pleasure from him. Or about Harry pushing him down and just taking Severus in his mouth…
And his pants were most absolutely not too tight all of a sudden.
Severus shifted in his seat uncomfortably, immensely glad that he wore large, billowing robes.
Not that he needed the coverage, of course.
Or he wouldn’t, if only his godson would just leave him alone for a couple of minutes.
“Draco!” he barked out. Draco looked at him questioningly. “As much as I appreciate your company, isn’t there someplace else you need to be?”
Draco cocked his head, thinking for a moment. “No, not really.”
“That was not so much a question as a very polite suggestion, Draco,” Severus groaned.
“You don’t do ‘very polite’, Sev,” Draco pointed out.
Severus scowled.
“Oh, alright. Fine. I can take a hint. And well, it is time for dinner, isn’t it?” Draco stretched gracefully as he stood up. “I hear the House-Elves are serving sausages tonight. Imagine the possibilities!”
“I’ll choose to ignore that remark,” Severus muttered darkly. “I do not have particular need to know of your deviant inclinations. Just leave me be.”
“Oh, come on, Severus. Like you’d want to miss the opportunity to see Potter with a thick, fat, meaty sausage between his lips?” Draco asked pointedly.
Severus paused. The thought certainly was tempting… He shook himself before he could lapse into a full-on fantasy. “Very well, I shall accompany you there, then. Although this has nothing - nothing - to do with what you suggested.”
Draco nodded sagely, that damnable smirk on his face. “Of course not.”
Severus scowled, but waved his godson to the door ahead of him.
Not that he needed to…settle himself first, of course.
Together, they made their way towards the Great Hall. In the corridor before it, a head of messy black hair was making its way round the corner.
“Oh, look who it is…Potter!” Draco called out, sneaking a smug grin at Severus. “Yoo-hoo!”
Ahead of them, Harry stopped dead in his tracks to spin around slowly. Severus gaped at his godson. “Did you just say ‘yoo-hoo’?” he demanded in horror.
“Malfoy,” Harry began, sounding rather strangled. “Did you just say ‘yoo-hoo’?”
“Yes,” Draco said breezily, skipping ahead to reach Harry.
“Is that in season too?” Severus asked darkly, billowing his way to them. Draco raised an imperious eyebrow, but Harry chuckled.
“Well, I can tell when I’m not wanted,” Draco sniffed, and began to stalk off. “I’ll just go see to those sausages.”
Harry paused. “…I don’t really want to know, do I.”
“He’s looking forward to watching the fanciable boys eat them,” Severus explained, rolling his eyes.
“Oh. He’s certainly - open about his lifestyle preferences,” Harry mused.
Severus snorted. “Gay as Gilderoy Lockhart.”
Harry laughed.
Then they both suddenly realized that they were having a civil moment with each other.
“Er, right, well, I’ll just - go,” Harry stammered, trying to control where all his blood was rushing to. Honestly, what was wrong with him? Some amusing lines from Snape and one moment of camaraderie, and he was randy?
“Potter, wait.” Severus was horrified at the words that had escaped his mouth. He certainly enjoyed the moment with Harry, but what possible plausible reason could he employ to keep him there? Suddenly, horrifying moments of the past few days flashed into his mind, along with his vague suspicions.
“Yes, Professor?” Harry asked nervously. God, what was Snape trying to do to him? Could he tell that Harry was horny as hell? Was he about to be punished? He hoped so - he could do with a right proper spanking, especially if it was from Snape, he thought, and then found that he had to stop thinking about getting spanked by Snape and start thinking about how, exactly, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had produced seven children. He shuddered at the mental imagery.
Severus eyed Harry’s trembling form. Was it a sign of guilt? I’d like to make him shiver like that, he thought off-handedly, then reminded himself to stay on track. “As you know, I had a rather unusual disposition recently,” he began.
“Yes,” Harry nodded slowly, realizing where this was going, and hoping he didn’t look guilty. “Um, I’m glad to see that you are no longer -” he paused, then did a fair imitation of Severus’ drunken state, including the swaying.
“Yes,” Severus leveled a scowl at Harry, who immediately straightened up, not trying very hard to disguise his amusement. “Although I meant the state before that one. I believe that I may have said some - inappropriate things to you at the time.”
You can ride my broomstick any day, Harry.
They both flushed - they both remembered it very well.
“Well, um, that’s okay, really -” Harry stumbled over his words.
“I did not apologize,” Severus arched an eyebrow.
“No, no, of course not,” Harry nodded emphatically. “I’m just saying, I didn’t mind or anything, not that I think you should be going around saying those sort of things, but to me, it was alright -” He clapped both hands over his mouth in horror. “Sorry,” he mumbled out through between his fingers.
“Very well.” Severus tried to ignore the subtle implications behind Harry’s words. It didn’t work very well, and all he could think about suddenly was Harry riding his broomstick indeed. Panicking at the prospect of having a hard-on right as he was about to have dinner in front of the entire school, he suddenly felt the inexplicable urge to blame James Potter. Just as he did for everything that had ever gone wrong since their paths had crossed. “It’s all your fault,” he muttered darkly.
Except that James was no longer alive, he remembered belatedly, and Harry was the only suitable replacement at the moment.
“Huh?” Harry looked confused. Severus tried not to be irritated at how cute it was.
“I blame you,” he said slowly, wracking his brains for a good excuse. “For - what happened!”
“What happened?” Harry repeated unsurely, focusing more on the effort of stopping his trousers from tenting than worrying about possibly getting into trouble.
“What happened!” Severus growled. “You do remember, when I was actually being cheerful?”
God, that growl, Harry moaned inwardly, and immediately tried to think of Dumbledore at the beach. “Urgh, purple polka dots - I mean, yes, I remember, Sir - you think that’s my fault?”
“I do.” Severus paused. “What was that about polka dots?”
Harry flushed. “Nothing. Not Dumbledore! And it wasn’t my fault!”
“Really?” Severus narrowed his eyes, and then, to Harry’s alarm, leaned in precariously close. “Your cheeks are flushed. Your pupils are dilated, you are fidgeting, and you are beginning to sweat. All signs of guilt,” he purred in his lowest voice, and Harry swallowed hard. Jesus Christ, this man is sex on legs. And what legs…
“It’s not guilt,” he insisted, flinching as his voice raised in pitch. “Really.”
Severus raised an eyebrow. “Oh, no, Mr. Potter? What then, pray tell, is it?”
I’m bloody horny, that’s what! Harry took a deep breath. “Well, Professor, I’m bloody horny, that’s what.”
Both their eyes widened.
“Bugger, I really didn’t mean to say that,” Harry muttered under his breath, wincing as he awaited a response.
Severus worked his jaw open and shut silently a few times before he spoke. “Point well made, Mr. Potter,” he finally said. “Go on, then.” He waved weakly at the doors to the Great Hall.
“Um, why don’t you go first, Sir?” At the questioning look, Harry blushed. “Just, it’ll be a little while before I can walk -” He made a vague gesture to his trousers, and Severus tried very hard not to let his eyes settle on the sight.
“Very well. Might I say, I just hope your - predicament - has nothing to do with whatever you were thinking about our Headmaster, Mr. Potter. Lest I find that I ought to be very worried about your proclivities.”
Harry’s eyes widened, and he choked. “What? You think I - oh god no! Professor Dumbledore? God, no! Eurgh, I can’t believe you’d think it was - ugh! I -”
“Should be on your way to walking by now,” Severus smirked. Sure enough, Harry found that he had finally gotten rid of his pesky erection.
He shot a grateful look at Severus. “Thank you, Sir, I’ll - I’ll just be going now.” He bolted into the Great Hall and slid into his seat, avoiding Ron and Hermione’s curious looks and grabbing a goblet of pumpkin juice and downing it in one long gulp.
“What took you so long?” Hermione hissed.
Ron elbowed him. “You weren’t having another - er, problem again, were you, mate?”
Harry choked on his juice. “No!” His voice was shrill, even to himself, and he cleared his throat forcefully. “I mean, no.” Ron eyed him doubtfully. “Really,” Harry insisted, until he couldn’t stand the skeptical look any longer. “Alright, yes, but its all taken care off.”
Ron looked a mixture of smug and incredulous. “Cor, mate.”
“What are you two talking about?” Hermione asked, leaning in.
Harry shot Ron a warning look. “Nothing, really. I ran into Snape on the way down.” As he said this, the Potions Master in question entered the Hall, looking slightly ruffled.
Ron made a choking sound, whipping his head to face between his best friend and the fearsome professor. “Wait - you - Snape - blimey!” He turned to Harry, askance, a desperate note in his voice. “Please tell me he had nothing to do with your - problem.”
“Well,” Harry hesitated, as Ron started turning green.
“What’s this? Was Snape giving you problems, Harry?” Hermione asked, frowning.
“No - I mean, yeah, but - he helped take care of it!”
Ron let out a rather squeaky whimper, making Hermione look at him in puzzlement. “What is the matter with you, Ron? Oh, but I must say, Harry, that’s awfully nice of Snape. Even if he was the one who caused it in the first place…Ron? What’s wrong with you? Harry, what’s wrong with Ron?”
Harry looked over at where his best friend was currently slumped face down into his bowl of mushy peas, then over at Hermione, who was trying to fish him out. He contemplated explaining it, and paused.
Instead, he shrugged, and bit into a chip. “Er - can’t say I know, Hermione.”
Well. He had vowed to make Ron suffer, after all.
*****
Chapter Nine!
Okay, this will have to tide you lot over for a fair bit, since I'm probably NaNoWriMo-ing. Hope you enjoyed it! Leave me lots of comments. Or not. 'S'up to you.
Also, in a fairly unrelated note, I'm taking art requests for Christmas. Over here, if you're interested.