Fic: It's a Bet
Title: It's a Bet
Pairing: Severus/Harry
Rating: PG
Word Count: 297
Warnings: None
Summary: Harry makes a bet he thinks he can't lose.
A/N: I do not own Harry Potter and company. Written for snarry_ldws, week 1. Thanks to my wonderful beta, whitecotton.
Genre: Established Relationship
Prompt: Lexicon
“There’s no way you’re winning this time,” Harry declared smugly as he and Severus walked down an aisle in the Hogwarts library.
Eyeing his long-time lover with amusement, Severus asked dryly, “Standard terms, I presume?”
“It’s a bet,” Harry replied, green eyes lighting up with anticipation.
“You are aware that the odds of your winning are staggeringly low, are you not?” Severus dodged the smack Harry aimed at his head with ease of habit. “By my calculations, you’ve won this particular wager only four times in our almost nine year association.”
Smirking wickedly at Harry’s cry of “You’re keeping score?” Severus grabbed for him, missing his arm by mere inches. Cursing Harry’s Quidditch-trained and Auror-honed reflexes, Severus finally nabbed his laughing lover and pressed him back against a bookshelf. Harry’s grunt at the impact turned into a groan as Severus leaned into him, sliding a lean thigh between his legs.
“Why don’t we just forget the bet?” Severus whispered enticingly, nipping Harry’s earlobe before sucking it into his hot mouth.
Harry gave a half-laugh, half-moan, pushing him in the chest, hard. Stumbling backward, Severus crashed into the opposite bookcase, with Harry pinning him securely. Severus struggled against him, succeeding only in arousing them both.
“Accio Lexicon of Quidditch Matches!”
Harry released him as the book flew from around the corner and slapped into Severus’ outstretched hands. Flipping through the pages, Severus found the list of the World Cup scores. The highest score listed was-
“What?”Harry exclaimed, reading over Severus’ shoulder. “That can’t be right.”
Not one to belabor the point, Severus closed the book and looked at Harry, who was still muttering under his breath about how he was the Quidditch fan and how on earth did Severus know these things, anyway?
“Your arse is mine, Potter.”
Pairing: Severus/Harry
Rating: PG
Word Count: 297
Warnings: None
Summary: Harry makes a bet he thinks he can't lose.
A/N: I do not own Harry Potter and company. Written for snarry_ldws, week 1. Thanks to my wonderful beta, whitecotton.
Genre: Established Relationship
Prompt: Lexicon
“There’s no way you’re winning this time,” Harry declared smugly as he and Severus walked down an aisle in the Hogwarts library.
Eyeing his long-time lover with amusement, Severus asked dryly, “Standard terms, I presume?”
“It’s a bet,” Harry replied, green eyes lighting up with anticipation.
“You are aware that the odds of your winning are staggeringly low, are you not?” Severus dodged the smack Harry aimed at his head with ease of habit. “By my calculations, you’ve won this particular wager only four times in our almost nine year association.”
Smirking wickedly at Harry’s cry of “You’re keeping score?” Severus grabbed for him, missing his arm by mere inches. Cursing Harry’s Quidditch-trained and Auror-honed reflexes, Severus finally nabbed his laughing lover and pressed him back against a bookshelf. Harry’s grunt at the impact turned into a groan as Severus leaned into him, sliding a lean thigh between his legs.
“Why don’t we just forget the bet?” Severus whispered enticingly, nipping Harry’s earlobe before sucking it into his hot mouth.
Harry gave a half-laugh, half-moan, pushing him in the chest, hard. Stumbling backward, Severus crashed into the opposite bookcase, with Harry pinning him securely. Severus struggled against him, succeeding only in arousing them both.
“Accio Lexicon of Quidditch Matches!”
Harry released him as the book flew from around the corner and slapped into Severus’ outstretched hands. Flipping through the pages, Severus found the list of the World Cup scores. The highest score listed was-
“What?”Harry exclaimed, reading over Severus’ shoulder. “That can’t be right.”
Not one to belabor the point, Severus closed the book and looked at Harry, who was still muttering under his breath about how he was the Quidditch fan and how on earth did Severus know these things, anyway?
“Your arse is mine, Potter.”