Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/ works/395602. Rating: Explicit Archive Warning: Rape/Non-Con, Underage Category: M/M, Other Fandom: Harry_Potter_-_J._K._Rowling Relationship: Harry/Neville Character: Neville_Longbottom, Harry_Potter Additional Tags: Bondage, Established_Relationship, Plant!Sex, Unhappy_Ending Stats: Published: 2005-01-04 Words: 2286 ****** A Change in Routine ****** by wilde_stallyn Summary Neville took a deep breath and tore open the package with fingers that trembled ever so slightly, letting the seeds spill out into his palm. He wasn't sure when he had started thinking of it as The Plan. He supposed the mental capitalizing was part of his way of psyching himself up so he'd actually go through with it. He worried his bottom lip between his teeth as he rolled one of the wrinkled brown spheres around between his thumb and forefinger. Could he actually go through with it? Did he really have the audacity to change things? To change everything? Notes Written for [[info]] caemlyn for [[info]]merry_smutmas. Much thanks to [[info]]belleweather for the beta. Neville moaned into the cool tile of the shower wall as Harry thrust into him, hard cock grinding against his prostate. This was the third morning this week that they had waited, pretending to be asleep, until their dorm mates had left for the Great Hall so they could have the showers all to themselves. Neville couldn't help but think the crisscross pattern of the grout was probably permanently engraved into his face by now. Not that he was complaining, mind. He loved the feeling of Harry fucking him first thing in the morning; the hot breath and wet, burning kisses on the back of his neck - even if it did mean that he missed breakfast more often than not. Then Harry wrapped a hand around his cock and he lost all remaining capacity for coherent thought. Three rough pulls and he came with a shout as Harry drove home a few more increasingly spastic thrusts before shooting his own release deep inside Neville's clenching arse. When he had recovered enough to stand on his own two legs, he turned away from the wall and wrapped his arms around Harry, pulling him into a long, slow kiss. Eventually though, they did have to break apart and get dressed. "Come on, we'd better get going or we're going to be late for Potions." Harry grinned and snickered, "Just imagine the look on Snape's face if he made us explain why we were late." Neville choked, and blushed, and threw a towel at his head. * * * Neville spent most of his evenings up to his elbows in dirt. About halfway through sixth year Prof. Sprout had pretty much turned greenhouse three over to him. Sometimes she left him instructions for things she needed prepared for her classes, but for the most part he was free to work on whatever he wanted, so he tended his ever-growing collection unusual magical botanicals and avoided doing his actual homework. That night however, he was sitting in front of an empty pot, staring at the package of seeds in his hands. This was it. This was his last chance to chicken out and let everything continue on just as it was. Once these seeds were planted The Plan would be in motion and there would be no going back. He took a deep breath and tore open the package with fingers that trembled ever so slightly, letting the seeds spill out into his palm. He wasn't sure when he had started thinking of it as The Plan. He supposed the mental capitalizing was part of his way of psyching himself up so he'd actually go through with it. He worried his bottom lip between his teeth as he rolled one of the wrinkled brown spheres around between his thumb and forefinger. Could he actually go through with it? Did he really have the audacity to change things? To change everything? It wasn't that he didn't love Harry, or their relationship. He did, he loved every minute of their time together. Even now he still had moments of amazement that Harry wanted to be with him, of all people. He had never been happier in his life and he wouldn't give him up for anything, but in all his time lusting after Harry before they had gotten together he had never imagined that he would be the one always getting fucked. He had always imagined that sex was about his lover's lithe body arching off the bed, hands clawing at the sheets, as Neville pounded into him; about strident cries of "Harder! Faster!" begging Neville to make him come. It wasn't that he didn't like being fucked either, but that alone just wasn't enough – could never be enough. It was like there was still this last nagging bit of his virginity that he had yet to lose, and the image of Harry stretched out beneath him was burned into the backs of his eyelids, taunting him every time he closed his eyes, every time he blinked. More than anything, he needed to know what it felt like to bury himself deep inside that gorgeous, quidditch-toned arse, to sink his cock into that tight, hot hole; needed to shred that last bit of ignorance. With a renewed determination he began to fill the pot with soil. He had tried to bring up the idea of him being on top once or twice, but Harry dismissed the possibility out of hand, quickly silencing him with a tongue in his mouth and a hand down his pants. Neville knew that Harry would enjoy bottoming though, if he'd just give it a try. He'd come to love it, just like Neville had, he was sure of it. So when he came across an article in one of his herbology journals about an interesting new plant that had been bred by a group of Manipulative Herbologists in France, The Plan began to take form somewhere in the back of his mind. The solanum ampeloservitas reportedly formed a psychic connection with its planter and caregiver and responded to their wishes, using its prehensile vines to assist its master in their tasks around the greenhouse. Or at least that was what it had been designed for. Needless to say, Neville's teenage hormone soaked subconscious had no trouble coming up with a few more interesting uses for the ampeloservitas. Within a week The Plan had become a full-blown obsession and he had sent away for the seeds, posing as Prof. Sprout in order to get the experimental plant into the country. He gently buried the seeds in the soil and said the provided incantation. Now all he had to do was wait. * * * A little over a month later Harry and Neville sat slumped together on the shower floor as the water beat down on them, slowly rinsing the come from their bodies in thin, pale streams to swirl down the drain at their feet. Neville dislodged his face from the crook of Harry's neck to lick his earlobe and whisper, "Come to the greenhouse around nine tonight. I've got a surprise for you." * * * At eight-thirty Neville set the now full-grown, ampeloservitas by the greenhouse door and went into the back to distract himself from his nerves by re-potting some fanged geraniums Prof. Sprout was using with her fifth years. He was on his fourth geranium when he heard the door open. "Neville?" Harry called as he entered the greenhouse. "Where are you? What's this surprise you wanted- Hey, let go! What the-" A nervous thrill went through Neville at the subsequent clatter, followed by an impressive string of curse words. He eagerly put down the geranium and went to examine the plant's handy work. As he stepped around the partition he had to stop and stare. The scene in front of him was straight out of his fantasies. The plant had a thick vine wrapped around Harry's wrists, stretching his arms above his head. His back was arched against the edge of the pot as he was suspended a foot from the floor by more vines that wound around his legs from thigh to ankle, hiking up his robes to expose the deliciously pale skin of his inner thighs as they spread them wide. "Neville! Thank god! Get this thing off me." Neville licked his lips and replied, rather more breathlessly than he would have liked, "I rather like you like this, actually." Harry's eyes widened as Neville began to approach him with a look that could almost be called predatory. "N-Neville? What going on? What are you doing?" "Having my way with you, of course," he answered, reaching out to caress his cheek. Harry jerked away from his hand. "You're what!? No, no you're not!" "I told you I had a surprise for you," he said with a smile, dropping to his knees between his lover's spread legs. "You planned this!?" Neville just smiled and nodded. Harry began to struggle futilely against the vines as he realized Neville was serious. "No, Neville, don't do this," he tried to reason. "Please, let me go." "Shhhh," Neville soothed, taking his face in his hands. "Don't worry love, it'll be wonderful. I promise." He kissed him softly on the lips. When Harry refused to return the kiss he moved on to his neck, kissing his way down his throat, sucking at the spot where neck met shoulder that always made Harry shudder. His hands came up to unbutton Harry's robes, his mouth following them downwards as each button revealed an expanding stretch of warm, smooth skin. He paused to nibble at his collarbone before continuing to kiss and lick his way down his chest. He could hear Harry begging him to stop as he drew his right nipple into his mouth, but he blocked it out of his mind, determined to make him enjoy this. He sucked and licked at the little nub, teasing it thoroughly before resuming his path down his torso. He sucked at the skin of his stomach, tongue flicking out to probe his navel. Finally the last button was undone, but Neville groaned when he realized that he was going to have a bit of a problem getting Harry's underwear off with the vines wrapped around his legs like that. After a few moments of indecision he thought, "Fuck it. I'll buy him a new pair." He reached over and grabbed the pruning sheers from the workbench, and cut the offending garment from his body. He was a bit disappointed to find that Harry wasn't hard yet, but he'd fix that in short order. He stroked him lightly a few times and then bent down and took the flaccid prick into his mouth, rolling it around on his tongue. Harry's cries of, "Ah- No, don't!" briefly penetrated his mind, but the pleas were quickly washed away by the feeling Harry's cock hardening against his tongue. When he was fully erect, Neville drew back, swirling his tongue around the head and lapping the salty pre-come from the tip. He continued to tease around the head with his tongue as he pulled a small jar of lubricant from his robes and fumbled with the lid. He got it open and quickly spread the lube over his fingers. Harry cried out and renewed his struggle against the vines as a finger began to stroke around his entrance. The plant just yanked his legs up even higher to give Neville better access to his arse. Neville knelt up to kiss along Harry's jaw and whisper reassuringly in his ear, "It's okay, I won't hurt you. I promise. You'll love it. Just relax." Harry clenched his hole shut as hard as he could, but Neville was patient. He softly teased at the pucker until he could slowly and carefully slip a finger passed that tight ring of muscle. He worked that finger slowly in and out until his was able to slip in a second finger, and then a third. He stretched him slowly and thoroughly, exploring the delicate folds of his channel with something close to awe. He felt Harry's cock twitch against his stomach as his fingers found his prostate and he smiled. Soon he couldn't hold his arousal off any longer and removed his fingers in order to pull open his own robes and coat his aching cock with lube. Slowly he pushed into that tight arse with a low moan. Once buried to the hilt he stopped to revel in the sensation of hot, silken flesh surrounding his prick. This was it. This was what he wanted, and it was better than he had ever imagined. He began to move, ever so gently, and the pleasure threatened to overwhelm him. He stopped again, knowing that he wouldn't be able to hold off his climax against much more of this, but also knowing that Harry had to come first. Suddenly Harry let out a strangled moan and his arse spasmed around Neville's prick. Neville glance down and saw that the ampeloservitas had wrapped a thin vine around Harry's cock and was stroking the head with a single velvety leaf. Biting down hard on his lower lip to keep from coming from the sight alone, he began to thrust again, slowly, trying as best as he could to aim for Harry's prostate. Under the tender ministrations of the vine Harry came after only a few thrusts, shooting his release over their stomachs, and Neville gladly allowed himself to follow. Pleasure swept over him in endless waves as Harry's arse convulsed around his prick, and he spilled his own seed deep inside him. When Neville had recovered the ability to breathe normally, he slipped out of Harry and told the plant to release him. He bent down to kiss him, but Harry pulled away and scrambled to his feet, his eye's shining with unshed tears. "Don't touch me!" he spat. Neville looked at him in confusion and reached out caress his cheek. "Harry, what-" "I said DON'T FUCKING TOUCH ME, you bastard!" Harry screamed. Neville never saw the fist coming, but the next thing he knew he was blinking up from the ground as Harry ran out of the greenhouse. He began to get up and go after him, shouting for Harry to wait, but as he watched the man he loved run off into the darkness, clutching his robes closed around his naked body, he realized that nothing he could say could possibly make this right. He sunk back down to the greenhouse floor and buried his head in his hands with the knowledge that somehow he had just destroyed the one thing in the world that he couldn't bear to live without. Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed their work!