Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/304096.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Harry_Potter_-_J._K._Rowling
  Relationship:
      Neville_Longbottom/Remus_Lupin, Neville_Longbottom/Harry_Potter
  Character:
      Neville_Longbottom, Remus_Lupin, Harry_Potter
  Additional Tags:
      Teacher-Student_Relationship, Community:_pornish_pixies
  Stats:
      Published: 2003-12-26 Words: 795
****** But Youth Of Course ******
by pauraque
Summary
     Tell me what you imagined.
Notes
     For the Fantasia challenge at Pornish Pixies, which was to write a
     fic focusing on a character's fantasy.
Do you want to know what I imagined?
He asks me to stay after class, is how it starts off. For a second I get a
sinking feeling because I'm afraid I've got detention, but then I turn and he's
standing there, leaning against his desk and giving me one of those smiles that
you can only see in his eyes.
I come up to him. 'Yes, Professor Lupin?'
'I just wanted to tell you how well you did today,' he says, and his eyes are
soft yellow-hazel, and he smells all sort of cool and salt-water, like he's
been up to his elbows in the grindylow tank. 'You should know you're getting
one of the highest marks in the class, Neville.' His voice goes all soft and
hoarse, but the smile I can barely see bursts through in every word. 'That's
something to be proud of.'
I know I'm going red but it feels so good, overflowing-good somewhere down in
my stomach. He's beautiful and close and *proud* of me, and I almost can't
stand it, and I'm going hoarse too. 'Thank you, sir...'
I don't know who moves first, but we're leaning closer together, and he puts
his hands on my waist, and suddenly he lifts me up— I'm surprised, I'm
clutching the sleeves of his robes— and he sits me up on the edge of his desk,
and kisses me. I'm still holding onto him, and I'm kissing back— his skin is
warm and rough like he needs a shave, and his mouth's all soft like velvet,
just kissing me like I'm the thing he loves most.
He's holding me tighter and my legs are on either side of him dangling off the
desk, I'm holding his hips between my knees. Anybody could walk in, the door's
unlocked and the window's even open, sun all golden shining in, but I don't
care because if anybody looked, the only thing they'd see is the way we love
each other. I'm not embarrassed— I feel like I'll never be embarrassed again.
And I want him now, I really want him, and he gets down on his knees. He opens
up my trousers and he says— he says my cock is beautiful, and it's exciting
because he's a teacher and he's not meant to use words like that. And then his
fingers, thin and soft-tipped stroking up and down. 'Beautiful,' he says, the
warm smile in his eyes brimming up almost like tears.
I want him to do it, and he does. His tongue— his mouth— so good I can't stand
it, I'm up on the desk and there's nothing to hold on to. My legs are over his
shoulders and crossed over his back, and I put my hand back to reach for
something and there's just feathers and cool glass.
I'm saying, 'Yes.' I'm saying, 'Yes, it's so good...'
His hands are rubbing my hips, and he's swallowing, and oh the way his tongue
slides and pushes against the underside— against my— I put my hand back again
and hit the thick blotter paper and I think I've got ink on my hands but I
don't care, I don't care because he's so good, so good. I know I'm going to
come and I don't want it to end, but it's so good I can't get the words out,
everything I try to say just comes out yes, yes, it's good, don't stop, I love
you, yes, it's good. And I'm coming then, I'm coming in his beautiful mouth
with my hands hanging onto his head, and getting black ink smeared all down his
beautiful, beautiful hair.
And when I'm finished he stands up, and he hugs me and kisses me. And he's not
just smiling with his eyes.
*
Neville opened his eyes. Harry was looking at him spellbound, lips flushed red
and slightly parted.
'That was— wow,' Harry breathed. 'You should write this stuff down, Neville,
you could make a fortune.'
Neville chuckled, reddening and glancing away. 'No, I couldn't do that. It's
just silly stuff anyway, imaginary...'
'Silly isn't the word I'd use,' Harry said, edging closer under the bedclothes—
he was hard.
Neville stroked his fingers over Harry's hip, savouring the feeling of warm,
real skin, not imaginary. 'But I had that fantasy for years. And it's so
stupid, having a crush on your teacher...'
'Don't feel bad. I had a crush on my godfather.'
Neville's eyes widened. 'Did you?'
Harry gave a small grin. 'Yeah.' He pressed up close against him; his voice
lowered playfully. 'Do you want to know what I imagined?'
Neville slowly smiled, and slid his arm around Harry's waist. 'Yeah. Tell me?'
Harry kissed him. 'Okay,' he whispered against his mouth. 'It starts like
this.'
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