Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/422709.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/F, F/M, Multi
  Fandom:
      Harry_Potter_-_J._K._Rowling
  Relationship:
      Lily_Evans/Severus_Snape/Narcissa_Malfoy
  Stats:
      Published: 2012-06-04 Words: 962
****** Seventeen ******
by imaginary_golux
Summary
     There's this ritual, see... Written for Porn Battle IX.
Severus is fairly sure he’s in love with Lily – she’s the only woman he trusts,
the only light in his dark life, the treasure of his lightless days (he is
seventeen and allowed to talk like this) – but Narcissa is also beautiful, pale
and elegant where Lily is fiery and wild, and so Severus has a bit of a
quandary, because the two of them are standing there in front of him in nothing
but their…underthings, demanding that he choose.
He wants to choose Lily, but that would be a betrayal of Slytherin House, and
even in this place he dares not do that…but if he chooses Narcissa, it will be
a betrayal of his love for Lily, and that would surely kill him, or at least
destroy his heart within his living breast! (He is, after all, only seventeen.)
So it is because of his overwhelming confusion, and not out of greed or even
really lust, that he blurts, “Can’t I have you both?”
Lily looks at Narcissa and grins, and Narcissa raises an elegant eyebrow
(Severus, envious, decides that he will learn to do that) and says, “Well, that
isn’t strictly one of the approved choices for this ritual…but I suppose it’s
acceptable nonetheless.” Then they are moving, in startling unison, and very
shortly Severus finds himself stripped down to his ratty grey undershorts. He
stands there feeling very alone and very naked as they survey him, and then
Lily smiles and leans in and kisses him, and everything is going to be all
right after all.
Lily tastes like summer mornings, and sunshine, and innocent childhood (Severus
is only seventeen), and Severus kisses her as fiercely and possessively as he
dares, because she is his Lily and he loves her. But after far too short a time
she pulls away and Narcissa leans in to take her place. Narcissa tastes
like…ice, he decides, and the sort of sweet sugars that a poison holds, but it
is a good taste nonetheless, and he kisses her almost as passionately as he did
Lily. When she releases him, she and Lily look at each other for a long, long
moment, and then lean in and press their mouths together. Severus watches,
astonished, thinking of fire and ice, Slytherin and Gryffindor, lions and
serpents, and then thinking of nothing at all but how astonishingly hot it is
to watch two beautiful women kiss, open-mouthed and wrapped around each other.
Finally they pull apart, and, once again in unison, strip each other of the
flimsy scraps of lace and silk that had been covering them, however
inadequately, before. Severus has just enough time to think, Merlin, so that’s
what breasts look like, before they have turned and are pulling his undershorts
down and leading him to the wide bed. He lies down with one on each side of
him, and marvels at how good it feels to be sandwiched between warm bodies; and
then they are kissing, a messy, nose-bumping three-way kiss, which ends when
Lily begins to nibble her way down his body and Narcissa sits back, spreads her
legs, and slides one finger gently and smoothly into herself. Severus cannot
decide where to look: Lily, humming happily as she tastes his nipples and licks
his chest, moving inexorably towards where his cock is leaking on his stomach;
or Narcissa, making little whimpering noises as she caresses herself with agile
fingers.
Severus cries out when Lily reaches his cock and does not stop, merely licks
her way down it in the same matter-of-fact way she has done everything else
this evening, and then moves on to nuzzle gently at his balls and nibble at his
thighs. Narcissa, watching, laughs, and leans over to murmur in his ear, “Don’t
worry, we’ll come back to that.” Severus decides that his best course of action
at this point is just to lie there and do whatever they want, since the reward
in the offing is more sex than he has ever imagined he will have in his bleak
and lonesome life (life is never so hard as when you’re seventeen).
He loses track of time, of which woman is where, even once of who he is and why
this is so very unlikely a situation, but he comes back to himself with a moan
when Lily, having apparently claimed first go, straddles his hips and sinks
down onto his cock with a long, low, satisfied sigh. He flails a bit, and lifts
his hips in a futile effort to get even deeper into her, and Narcissa laughs
and moves to kneel over his head, facing Lily, and says, “Put that clever
tongue to good use, there’s a lad,” and the next few moments are a crash course
in cunnilingus – not a talent he ever imagined he’d have the opportunity to
acquire – and it’s a difficult angle and hard to concentrate when Lily is
moving just so and oh Merlin so wet and warm and tight, but when he gets it
right, cool, proper Narcissa moans aloud and rocks back on his mouth and then
leans forward and he thinks she is kissing Lily and then it is all heat and wet
and unbearable pleasure, and colored stars behind his eyelids when he comes.
He wakes with Lily to his right and Narcissa to his left, both snuggled up
against him a little like kittens, and thinks that even if they both decide to
hate him when this ritual is over, this is the best thing that has ever or will
ever happen to him, and they are both the most wonderful women ever, and also
he is very, very sated. Poetry takes a poor second place to sex when one is
seventeen.
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