Wrong On So Many Levels - a one off short story
Story: Wrong On So Many Levels
Disclaimer: Only the plot, such as it is, is mine.
Rating: NC17 for graphic sexual situations between consenting adult males, voyeurism
Pairing: Snape/Harry
Spoilers: arr... none, I don't think. :)
Summary: Ron has been very suspicious of his best friend's behaviour recently. But he still shouldn't have done *this*...
Author's Note: This is a one-off short story from the realm of The Boy Who Lived A Bit. It just told me to sit down and write it this afternoon. So here it is. Call it a bit o'porny fluff. ;)
It didn't take very long at all for Ron Weasley to realise that this was the wrongest wrong thing he had EVER done.
Wronger than sneaking invisible ink onto Percy's left hand (the hand his brothers all knew he wanked with) that one time. Wronger than letting Seamus talk him into taking that photo of Neville in the showers. Wronger than the time he accepted the twins' challenge to try and spy on Tonks while she was changing at Grimmauld Place once. No, this was much, MUCH wronger.
For starters, he'd taken Harry's invisibility cloak without permission. That was wrong.
And he'd co-conspired with Fred and George to get them to make one of their fireworks go off at the exact moment he invisibly Apparated into Harry's bedroom (just as well Harry had gotten so lax with his wards since the end of the war), so as to cover the faint popping sound that his invisible arrival would make in the room. That was wrong, too.
And he hadn't left again as soon as he'd seen what was happening in here. That was really wrong.
And he was still standing here, feeling the most uncomfortable he'd ever felt, under Harry's invisibility cloak, watching his best friend being fucked by their ex-Potions Master. That was wrong on so many levels, Ron couldn't even begin to count them just yet.
They were already at it when he had appeared, unnoticed in the room. They were in Harry's bed together, him and Snape. Harry on his back with Snape on top of him. And Snape was… moving. Ron had become frozen to the spot on which he stood, not wanting to look but utterly incapable of looking anywhere else, either.
He'd been worried about Harry for a while now. Since before He-Who-Could-Probably-Now-Be-Named had finally fallen at the battle at Belvedere's Hump. His suspicions had started with Harry actually defending Snape in an argument with Ron (an argument about Snape, funnily enough). Harry had sounded like he was actually starting to LIKE the bastard. He'd stood up for him and got angry at Ron, telling him that he was wrong about the bloke, that the great git was actually not so bad once you got to know him! What a load of bollocks! Ron was sure there was something weird going on, then. Snape must've used a charm or a potion or something, to trick Harry into thinking he was an okay bloke after all, that they were friends or something. Really - it was the only explanation that made sense, wasn't it?
Then Snape had started acting weird, too. Gave Ron a right talking to about how he should have more respect for Harry's decisions and that he shouldn't make fun of Harry becoming more mature and stuff. He'd even referred to Harry AS Harry for the first time ever! And had actually said that Harry was "an individual important to us both" or some bloody rubbish. That was when Ron had started to think that maybe the two really HAD started to become friends. Well, they were being forced to spend so much time together toward the end of the war, weren't they? He supposed it only made sense for them to stop snarking at each other and start trying to get along a bit better…
But then, in the few days leading up to the final battle, Harry and Snape had never left each other's side. Not once. Ron started to wonder if they were even going to the bloody toilet together! It was creepy, is what it was. Not natural. Downright bizarre. The very night before Belvedere's Hump, Snape had even followed Harry up to his bedroom and closed the door, and Ron was absolutely certain that the bastard had stayed in there all night. Yuck! What were they DOING?
In the week or so since then, they'd started to let one another out of their sight a bit more, at least. Bloody well want to, and all. But it still seemed to Ron that his best mate was spending more time with the arsehole Potions prick than he was with his real friends. And - bugger it! - he was going to find out what the hell was going on!
So that's how he'd got here, standing frozen to the spot in Harry's room right now. Watching… this.
Harry moaned softly and turned his head on the pillow. Snape leaned down immediately and fixed his open mouth to Harry's neck, sucking at the skin there, hard enough that it looked like it might hurt. But Harry was smiling and one of his hands came up to the back of Snape's head, holding him there lightly. Eww! Your hand'll get all greasy, Harry!
There were fucking, weren't they? The bedclothes, thank fuck, still covered the lower half of their bodies and Ron hoped to god they stayed that way. Still, it meant he couldn't see absolutely everything. (Yuuuuuuck!) So maybe they might just be… rubbing together or something? Frowning slightly, Ron took a couple of silent steps to the side, steadfastly telling himself he was NOT trying to get a better look - he was just trying to ascertain exactly what his friend was being subjected to.
Harry had his legs spread pretty far, by the look of it. And had them bent up with his knees almost at the same level as his chest. See, it was his flexibility - and not just his small size - that made him such a wicked good Seeker. Ron tried to imagine exactly how such a position would, er, line up with various bits of Snape's anatomy… Ron felt his nose crinkle in disgust. Yup. They were fucking, alright.
He supposed the noises should've told him that much. The whispers and the raspy moans and the bed creaking slightly. And the mumbled words. The yeses and the ohs and the ohgods. Ron swallowed. He'd seen a couple of porno movies. And even though this was far quieter and more sort of… gentle, or something… he just knew that those noises were fucking noises. Not that he'd ever seen a QUEER porno, mind! God no! The thought of watching two blokes togeth - Ron blanched. He was watching two blokes together. And they weren't in some bloody movie, either. He was standing here in real life, watching two blokes going at it for real. And not just any two blokes, but his best friend and his most hated ex-teacher. Who he had always thought was his best friend's most hated ex-teacher, too.
Fuck, this was complicated!
Snape straightened his arms on either side of Harry and lifted himself up slightly, looking down into Harry's face. His greasy, ugly hair fell over his face when he did this, so Ron couldn't see what look it was he was giving Harry. But he could see Harry's face alright though. And Harry was looking up at Snape like… like… he was soft on the bloke. Bloody hell! Harry snaked his arms up around Snape's neck and pulled the git back down onto him. Snape eased one arm under Harry's neck, cradling the back of Harry's head, and stroked Harry's face with his other hand. He was taking all of his weight on his elbows now. And then… he was lowering his face to Harry's and kissing him.
Ron tried not to look at their faces joined together like that. It was too much. But he still couldn't pull his eyes completely away from them, either. He let his gaze fall back slightly and found himself staring at Snape's naked back. Who'd've thought the bloke would actually have some muscle there? And what were those… Oh. Snape's back was criss-crossed by long scars. Faint ones. But they were definitely there. Probably been there quite a long time, by the looks of it. Ron averted his gaze back up to where their faces were moving apart again.
No. No, Ron was NOT going let himself feel any sympathy for the bastard. He'd joined the Death Eaters of his own accord - if they got their jollies by beating him up from time to time, well then, that was his own fault for joining them in the first place, wasn't it?
Snape and Harry pressed their foreheads together as they moved as one. 'Perfect,' Ron heard Snape say.
Perfect? What sort of thing was that to say to a student you spent seven years hounding and bullying and picking on?
Harry's legs must have been starting to ache, because he stretched one and then the other now. Each movement making the bedclothes move down a little further and a little further again. Ron held his breath. Bloody hell - no! No, he DID not need to see that! The bedclothes were suddenly kicked off the bed and there they were - Severus Snape and Harry Potter, shagging - right in front of Ron's eyes.
Eyes, he could tell, that must be just about popping out of his head by now. He was looking at Snape's arse, for god's sake! Snape's naked, pasty-pale arse! And worse! MUCH worse! That arse was moving up and down in a steady rhythm, the muscles clenching and relaxing, clenching and relaxing, as the old bastard thrust himself again and again into Harry's body. Urgh!
They were obviously really starting to get into it now, Ron considered. The covers being kicked off was one indication, he supposed. But Snape's thrusts were speeding up a bit now, too, and he seemed to be putting a bit more into each stroke… Harry's grin was getting wider and wider, his body taking each fresh assault with what looked like increasing enjoyment.
Was that possible? That Harry really was enjoying this? Having that ugly git pumping away on top of him like that?
Ron blinked as a sudden realisation came to him that should have come to him quite some time ago. Harry was queer! His best mate, the bloke he'd shared a dorm room with for seven years, was a bloody poof!
And Snape was, too. Ewwww! Maybe he'd been watching them all, all of the boys, all that time while they were at school? Maybe he'd been thinking about doing this to Harry all that time? Dirty old sod. Oh shit - Snape'd never been on showerroom duty after Quidditch, had he? Ron let out his breath carefully as he ran over seven years worth of remembered showers. No. Snape had never been hanging around there. Well, that was something, he supposed. At least the man had SOME morals.
Heh. Some morals must be precious few, he thought, as he watched Snape throw his head back a bit as he drove himself harder into Harry. As he drove his… Ron squinted a little and shifted silently once more. Not to get a better look, he reminded himself again, just to see exactly what's going on here. Yeah. He moved his head slightly, trying to see - bloody hell! Ron felt a blush start at the crown of his head and wash over his entire body, right down to his toes (which felt for all the world as though they were curling).
He could actually see. He could see… A few porno movies starring women with magically enhanced boobs had never prepared Ron for this. He could see it. Could see, well, them. Where they were joined.
Ron straightened up quickly and dragged his eyes elsewhere. No WAY had he just been doing that. He had NOT just been looking at Snape's cock. He had CERTAINLY not just been watching Snape's cock moving in and out of his best mate's arse. Uh-uh. No way. Not in a million years.
But he had, hadn't he? If it was possible for a Weasley blush to deepen, Ron's did now.
Snape had a pretty big one. And if the way Harry was reacting to getting buggered by it was any indication, the bloke knew how to use it, too.
Harry was arching his back up off the mattress every time Snape thrust into him now. Harry's hands were holding onto Snape's arse, his fingers digging into the flesh as he pulled it toward himself. At the same time, he would push his own arse up to meet it. Like he was trying to fuck himself on that big, hard thing. Like the feeling of it was so good that he just couldn't get enough of it.
Ron licked his dry lips absent-mindedly. I am not a queer. He told himself harshly. This is disgusting and ugly and horrible. I am NOT getting off on this.
His jeans were suddenly feeling rather uncomfortable though. Fuck. This isn't happening. This cannot be happening! I am NOT getting stiff watching this!
Oh, but he was.
It's just that it's fucking, innit? He reasoned, rather sensibly under the circumstances. I'm still a teenager and full of hormones doing bizarre things. It's not because it's two blokes - especially not these two blokes! - but it's just because it's sex. Cocks just react to that, don't they? No matter what sort of sex it is…
And it looked to be, well, pretty good sex from Harry and Snape's point of view, at least. There really was no denying they were enjoying themselves very nicely, thankyouverymuch. Ron could see the sheen of sweat covering both their bodies now, could even see their muscles working harder as they moved together. Their kisses were getting harder, too, more tongue and more slobbering than they'd been doing before.
Snape suddenly rose up onto his knees, bent over Harry's body like he was feeding on him, and hauled Harry's arse onto his lap. Who knew Snape was that strong and agile? His large hands grabbed hold of Harry's hips and held them hard while he fucked his cock deeper and rougher into Harry's arse. With nothing to hold onto now, Harry's hands fisted in the sheet as he took the hard fucking. The skin of Harry's torso had a flush to it now - god, he must've been feeling so hot - and his cock…
Ron had seen Harry's prick before. Of course he had. Hundreds of times. It's just a natural consequence of life in a boarding school, innit? But he'd never seen it like this. Sure, it hadn't always been completely flaccid all those hundreds of times (natural consequence of life, blah blah blah) but he'd definitely never seen Harry in this sort of state before. He looked hard enough to pound nails with it right now. And the head was so dark. And gleaming and leaking. And his balls had tightened right up against his body. Guh - that poor boy needed some relief!
The thought had obviously just occurred to Snape, too, because he wrapped one of those large, potions-stained hands around Harry's cock now and slowly stroked it up and down while he kept fucking.
'Uh!' groaned Harry. 'PleasemoreFUCK! Yeah…'
Ron swallowed again and reached down under the cloak toward the bulge in his jeans. I'm simply re-adjusting, he reminded himself. Just stopping it from, uh, being uncomfortable.
'Fuckme…' Harry mewled. And then he was coming. Snape was pumping his hand on Harry's cock hard now, squeezing long jets of spunk out onto Harry's body. It splashed as far up as his throat, which Ron couldn't help but feel a bit impressed by.
'Harry.' Urgh, Snape's voice actually sounded kind of… almost… sort of… sexy-ish like that. All deep and urgent and full of the tension of fucking.
Ron didn't think it could be possible for Snape to get his cock any deeper into Harry's body than he already was, but he rammed it in more now as his body shook. God, he was coming into Harry's arse! Ron imagined all that spunk being emptied into his friend's body… Where would it go afterwards, he wondered?
He suddenly became aware of the fact that his hand was still on his bulge, even though he'd "re-adjusted" several minutes ago. Bloody hell. He could feel his pulse throbbing through his prick. This was not good.
On the bed, Snape was leaning over Harry, licking up Harry's come from his chest and throat, his mouth closing over one of Harry's nipples after he sucked the spunk off it.
Harry was grinning wider than ever, his fingers buried in Snape's greasy hair, muttering nonsense. Some of which sounded suspiciously like words of affection. Ron took his hand off his jeans-clad cock and decided he better start thinking about getting the hell out of here.
'I love you, too, Harry.'
What?! They were hugging now, their bodies wrapped around each other like they never had any intention of ever letting go. Lips and fingers trailing over each other lazily. Both of them smiling as they looked at each other as though nobody else in the world existed.
Both of them. Smiling. Snape. Was smiling. Snape was smiling! He was smiling at Harry. Smiling FOR Harry. And he'd told him he loved him. Loved him TOO.
This was so wrong. Ron shouldn't be here, he shouldn't be intruding on this.
He waited until they were kissing deeply - hopefully, they'd be so wrapped up in each other that they wouldn't notice the faint popping sound - and he Apparated back to his own room.
As soon as he was there, Ron locked his bedroom door and stripped off his clothes. He looked down at his stiff cock as he wrapped a hand around it. It's just because it was sex, he reminded himself, as he started to pump his fist up and down the aching shaft. Pretty damned, fucking HORNY sex, at that. And I'm merely taking care of the excess frustration, he told himself. I am NOT wanking off to memories of the greasy git fucking my best friend. I'm just not. He came in no time at all, doing his best not to cry out loud when his release found him.
Ron reached for some tissues miserably. This was all so wrong.
Disclaimer: Only the plot, such as it is, is mine.
Rating: NC17 for graphic sexual situations between consenting adult males, voyeurism
Pairing: Snape/Harry
Spoilers: arr... none, I don't think. :)
Summary: Ron has been very suspicious of his best friend's behaviour recently. But he still shouldn't have done *this*...
Author's Note: This is a one-off short story from the realm of The Boy Who Lived A Bit. It just told me to sit down and write it this afternoon. So here it is. Call it a bit o'porny fluff. ;)
It didn't take very long at all for Ron Weasley to realise that this was the wrongest wrong thing he had EVER done.
Wronger than sneaking invisible ink onto Percy's left hand (the hand his brothers all knew he wanked with) that one time. Wronger than letting Seamus talk him into taking that photo of Neville in the showers. Wronger than the time he accepted the twins' challenge to try and spy on Tonks while she was changing at Grimmauld Place once. No, this was much, MUCH wronger.
For starters, he'd taken Harry's invisibility cloak without permission. That was wrong.
And he'd co-conspired with Fred and George to get them to make one of their fireworks go off at the exact moment he invisibly Apparated into Harry's bedroom (just as well Harry had gotten so lax with his wards since the end of the war), so as to cover the faint popping sound that his invisible arrival would make in the room. That was wrong, too.
And he hadn't left again as soon as he'd seen what was happening in here. That was really wrong.
And he was still standing here, feeling the most uncomfortable he'd ever felt, under Harry's invisibility cloak, watching his best friend being fucked by their ex-Potions Master. That was wrong on so many levels, Ron couldn't even begin to count them just yet.
They were already at it when he had appeared, unnoticed in the room. They were in Harry's bed together, him and Snape. Harry on his back with Snape on top of him. And Snape was… moving. Ron had become frozen to the spot on which he stood, not wanting to look but utterly incapable of looking anywhere else, either.
He'd been worried about Harry for a while now. Since before He-Who-Could-Probably-Now-Be-Named had finally fallen at the battle at Belvedere's Hump. His suspicions had started with Harry actually defending Snape in an argument with Ron (an argument about Snape, funnily enough). Harry had sounded like he was actually starting to LIKE the bastard. He'd stood up for him and got angry at Ron, telling him that he was wrong about the bloke, that the great git was actually not so bad once you got to know him! What a load of bollocks! Ron was sure there was something weird going on, then. Snape must've used a charm or a potion or something, to trick Harry into thinking he was an okay bloke after all, that they were friends or something. Really - it was the only explanation that made sense, wasn't it?
Then Snape had started acting weird, too. Gave Ron a right talking to about how he should have more respect for Harry's decisions and that he shouldn't make fun of Harry becoming more mature and stuff. He'd even referred to Harry AS Harry for the first time ever! And had actually said that Harry was "an individual important to us both" or some bloody rubbish. That was when Ron had started to think that maybe the two really HAD started to become friends. Well, they were being forced to spend so much time together toward the end of the war, weren't they? He supposed it only made sense for them to stop snarking at each other and start trying to get along a bit better…
But then, in the few days leading up to the final battle, Harry and Snape had never left each other's side. Not once. Ron started to wonder if they were even going to the bloody toilet together! It was creepy, is what it was. Not natural. Downright bizarre. The very night before Belvedere's Hump, Snape had even followed Harry up to his bedroom and closed the door, and Ron was absolutely certain that the bastard had stayed in there all night. Yuck! What were they DOING?
In the week or so since then, they'd started to let one another out of their sight a bit more, at least. Bloody well want to, and all. But it still seemed to Ron that his best mate was spending more time with the arsehole Potions prick than he was with his real friends. And - bugger it! - he was going to find out what the hell was going on!
So that's how he'd got here, standing frozen to the spot in Harry's room right now. Watching… this.
Harry moaned softly and turned his head on the pillow. Snape leaned down immediately and fixed his open mouth to Harry's neck, sucking at the skin there, hard enough that it looked like it might hurt. But Harry was smiling and one of his hands came up to the back of Snape's head, holding him there lightly. Eww! Your hand'll get all greasy, Harry!
There were fucking, weren't they? The bedclothes, thank fuck, still covered the lower half of their bodies and Ron hoped to god they stayed that way. Still, it meant he couldn't see absolutely everything. (Yuuuuuuck!) So maybe they might just be… rubbing together or something? Frowning slightly, Ron took a couple of silent steps to the side, steadfastly telling himself he was NOT trying to get a better look - he was just trying to ascertain exactly what his friend was being subjected to.
Harry had his legs spread pretty far, by the look of it. And had them bent up with his knees almost at the same level as his chest. See, it was his flexibility - and not just his small size - that made him such a wicked good Seeker. Ron tried to imagine exactly how such a position would, er, line up with various bits of Snape's anatomy… Ron felt his nose crinkle in disgust. Yup. They were fucking, alright.
He supposed the noises should've told him that much. The whispers and the raspy moans and the bed creaking slightly. And the mumbled words. The yeses and the ohs and the ohgods. Ron swallowed. He'd seen a couple of porno movies. And even though this was far quieter and more sort of… gentle, or something… he just knew that those noises were fucking noises. Not that he'd ever seen a QUEER porno, mind! God no! The thought of watching two blokes togeth - Ron blanched. He was watching two blokes together. And they weren't in some bloody movie, either. He was standing here in real life, watching two blokes going at it for real. And not just any two blokes, but his best friend and his most hated ex-teacher. Who he had always thought was his best friend's most hated ex-teacher, too.
Fuck, this was complicated!
Snape straightened his arms on either side of Harry and lifted himself up slightly, looking down into Harry's face. His greasy, ugly hair fell over his face when he did this, so Ron couldn't see what look it was he was giving Harry. But he could see Harry's face alright though. And Harry was looking up at Snape like… like… he was soft on the bloke. Bloody hell! Harry snaked his arms up around Snape's neck and pulled the git back down onto him. Snape eased one arm under Harry's neck, cradling the back of Harry's head, and stroked Harry's face with his other hand. He was taking all of his weight on his elbows now. And then… he was lowering his face to Harry's and kissing him.
Ron tried not to look at their faces joined together like that. It was too much. But he still couldn't pull his eyes completely away from them, either. He let his gaze fall back slightly and found himself staring at Snape's naked back. Who'd've thought the bloke would actually have some muscle there? And what were those… Oh. Snape's back was criss-crossed by long scars. Faint ones. But they were definitely there. Probably been there quite a long time, by the looks of it. Ron averted his gaze back up to where their faces were moving apart again.
No. No, Ron was NOT going let himself feel any sympathy for the bastard. He'd joined the Death Eaters of his own accord - if they got their jollies by beating him up from time to time, well then, that was his own fault for joining them in the first place, wasn't it?
Snape and Harry pressed their foreheads together as they moved as one. 'Perfect,' Ron heard Snape say.
Perfect? What sort of thing was that to say to a student you spent seven years hounding and bullying and picking on?
Harry's legs must have been starting to ache, because he stretched one and then the other now. Each movement making the bedclothes move down a little further and a little further again. Ron held his breath. Bloody hell - no! No, he DID not need to see that! The bedclothes were suddenly kicked off the bed and there they were - Severus Snape and Harry Potter, shagging - right in front of Ron's eyes.
Eyes, he could tell, that must be just about popping out of his head by now. He was looking at Snape's arse, for god's sake! Snape's naked, pasty-pale arse! And worse! MUCH worse! That arse was moving up and down in a steady rhythm, the muscles clenching and relaxing, clenching and relaxing, as the old bastard thrust himself again and again into Harry's body. Urgh!
They were obviously really starting to get into it now, Ron considered. The covers being kicked off was one indication, he supposed. But Snape's thrusts were speeding up a bit now, too, and he seemed to be putting a bit more into each stroke… Harry's grin was getting wider and wider, his body taking each fresh assault with what looked like increasing enjoyment.
Was that possible? That Harry really was enjoying this? Having that ugly git pumping away on top of him like that?
Ron blinked as a sudden realisation came to him that should have come to him quite some time ago. Harry was queer! His best mate, the bloke he'd shared a dorm room with for seven years, was a bloody poof!
And Snape was, too. Ewwww! Maybe he'd been watching them all, all of the boys, all that time while they were at school? Maybe he'd been thinking about doing this to Harry all that time? Dirty old sod. Oh shit - Snape'd never been on showerroom duty after Quidditch, had he? Ron let out his breath carefully as he ran over seven years worth of remembered showers. No. Snape had never been hanging around there. Well, that was something, he supposed. At least the man had SOME morals.
Heh. Some morals must be precious few, he thought, as he watched Snape throw his head back a bit as he drove himself harder into Harry. As he drove his… Ron squinted a little and shifted silently once more. Not to get a better look, he reminded himself again, just to see exactly what's going on here. Yeah. He moved his head slightly, trying to see - bloody hell! Ron felt a blush start at the crown of his head and wash over his entire body, right down to his toes (which felt for all the world as though they were curling).
He could actually see. He could see… A few porno movies starring women with magically enhanced boobs had never prepared Ron for this. He could see it. Could see, well, them. Where they were joined.
Ron straightened up quickly and dragged his eyes elsewhere. No WAY had he just been doing that. He had NOT just been looking at Snape's cock. He had CERTAINLY not just been watching Snape's cock moving in and out of his best mate's arse. Uh-uh. No way. Not in a million years.
But he had, hadn't he? If it was possible for a Weasley blush to deepen, Ron's did now.
Snape had a pretty big one. And if the way Harry was reacting to getting buggered by it was any indication, the bloke knew how to use it, too.
Harry was arching his back up off the mattress every time Snape thrust into him now. Harry's hands were holding onto Snape's arse, his fingers digging into the flesh as he pulled it toward himself. At the same time, he would push his own arse up to meet it. Like he was trying to fuck himself on that big, hard thing. Like the feeling of it was so good that he just couldn't get enough of it.
Ron licked his dry lips absent-mindedly. I am not a queer. He told himself harshly. This is disgusting and ugly and horrible. I am NOT getting off on this.
His jeans were suddenly feeling rather uncomfortable though. Fuck. This isn't happening. This cannot be happening! I am NOT getting stiff watching this!
Oh, but he was.
It's just that it's fucking, innit? He reasoned, rather sensibly under the circumstances. I'm still a teenager and full of hormones doing bizarre things. It's not because it's two blokes - especially not these two blokes! - but it's just because it's sex. Cocks just react to that, don't they? No matter what sort of sex it is…
And it looked to be, well, pretty good sex from Harry and Snape's point of view, at least. There really was no denying they were enjoying themselves very nicely, thankyouverymuch. Ron could see the sheen of sweat covering both their bodies now, could even see their muscles working harder as they moved together. Their kisses were getting harder, too, more tongue and more slobbering than they'd been doing before.
Snape suddenly rose up onto his knees, bent over Harry's body like he was feeding on him, and hauled Harry's arse onto his lap. Who knew Snape was that strong and agile? His large hands grabbed hold of Harry's hips and held them hard while he fucked his cock deeper and rougher into Harry's arse. With nothing to hold onto now, Harry's hands fisted in the sheet as he took the hard fucking. The skin of Harry's torso had a flush to it now - god, he must've been feeling so hot - and his cock…
Ron had seen Harry's prick before. Of course he had. Hundreds of times. It's just a natural consequence of life in a boarding school, innit? But he'd never seen it like this. Sure, it hadn't always been completely flaccid all those hundreds of times (natural consequence of life, blah blah blah) but he'd definitely never seen Harry in this sort of state before. He looked hard enough to pound nails with it right now. And the head was so dark. And gleaming and leaking. And his balls had tightened right up against his body. Guh - that poor boy needed some relief!
The thought had obviously just occurred to Snape, too, because he wrapped one of those large, potions-stained hands around Harry's cock now and slowly stroked it up and down while he kept fucking.
'Uh!' groaned Harry. 'PleasemoreFUCK! Yeah…'
Ron swallowed again and reached down under the cloak toward the bulge in his jeans. I'm simply re-adjusting, he reminded himself. Just stopping it from, uh, being uncomfortable.
'Fuckme…' Harry mewled. And then he was coming. Snape was pumping his hand on Harry's cock hard now, squeezing long jets of spunk out onto Harry's body. It splashed as far up as his throat, which Ron couldn't help but feel a bit impressed by.
'Harry.' Urgh, Snape's voice actually sounded kind of… almost… sort of… sexy-ish like that. All deep and urgent and full of the tension of fucking.
Ron didn't think it could be possible for Snape to get his cock any deeper into Harry's body than he already was, but he rammed it in more now as his body shook. God, he was coming into Harry's arse! Ron imagined all that spunk being emptied into his friend's body… Where would it go afterwards, he wondered?
He suddenly became aware of the fact that his hand was still on his bulge, even though he'd "re-adjusted" several minutes ago. Bloody hell. He could feel his pulse throbbing through his prick. This was not good.
On the bed, Snape was leaning over Harry, licking up Harry's come from his chest and throat, his mouth closing over one of Harry's nipples after he sucked the spunk off it.
Harry was grinning wider than ever, his fingers buried in Snape's greasy hair, muttering nonsense. Some of which sounded suspiciously like words of affection. Ron took his hand off his jeans-clad cock and decided he better start thinking about getting the hell out of here.
'I love you, too, Harry.'
What?! They were hugging now, their bodies wrapped around each other like they never had any intention of ever letting go. Lips and fingers trailing over each other lazily. Both of them smiling as they looked at each other as though nobody else in the world existed.
Both of them. Smiling. Snape. Was smiling. Snape was smiling! He was smiling at Harry. Smiling FOR Harry. And he'd told him he loved him. Loved him TOO.
This was so wrong. Ron shouldn't be here, he shouldn't be intruding on this.
He waited until they were kissing deeply - hopefully, they'd be so wrapped up in each other that they wouldn't notice the faint popping sound - and he Apparated back to his own room.
As soon as he was there, Ron locked his bedroom door and stripped off his clothes. He looked down at his stiff cock as he wrapped a hand around it. It's just because it was sex, he reminded himself, as he started to pump his fist up and down the aching shaft. Pretty damned, fucking HORNY sex, at that. And I'm merely taking care of the excess frustration, he told himself. I am NOT wanking off to memories of the greasy git fucking my best friend. I'm just not. He came in no time at all, doing his best not to cry out loud when his release found him.
Ron reached for some tissues miserably. This was all so wrong.