: Two for TeaAuthor
: Severus Snape/Harry PotterRating
: Semi-public sex, exhibitionismThemes/kinks chosen
: ecouterism, personal ads, symbolic bondage.Word Count
: Harry wants a date, and some tea. He gets both in spades.Author's notes
: This is probably the first time I've come this close to not having a DD submission! I missed my deadline (the 5th), but the mods have generously allowed me to post today, so thank you. Thanks also to my beta, sevfan
, and to unbroken_halo
, who explained the whole concept of tearooms to me. :)Disclaimer:
The characters contained herein are not mine. No money is being made from this fiction, which is presented for entertainment purposes only.
Two for Tea
~‘Single male wizard seeks same. If you’re interested in quiet, romantic evenings at home out of the public spotlight, self discovery, and Quidditch...’
Growling, Harry crumpled up the parchment, tossing it into the air. Waving his wand, he watched the parchment go up in flame before disappearing. “Oh well,” he whispered, turning away. “I’m obviously pants at this.”
Shaking his head, Harry walked over to the sideboard and poured himself a Firewhisky before settling into a chair by the fire and staring into it. I can’t even write a sodding personal ad,
he thought. I am pathetic.
“Hermione’s going to kill me.”
Draining his drink, Harry contemplated the Firewhisky bottle then, shrugging, Levitated it over to his chair. Getting drunk seemed pretty reasonable at that moment. Place a personal ad in The Quibbler, she said. It’ll be a great way to meet men and get over your Snape obsession, she said.
Harry huffed. And I almost did it! Merlin, I must be desperate.
Usually, Hermione’s ideas were sound, but Harry’d had his doubts about that one. Claiming that she was tired of his complaints that he couldn’t seem to meet anyone in clubs or bars, and that his fame stood in the way of his meeting anyone in his real life, she’d sat him down and made him write down, under her supervision, a list of the qualities he was looking for in a man. Once they’d hammered that out, she’d conspired with Luna to get an anonymous ad printed for him in The Quibbler’s
personal ad column, even offering to pay for it herself.
He’d been surprised she hadn’t actually written it for
him, but she’d insisted that he had to do it so that it would ‘sound authentic’. And so much for that,
Harry thought, leaning back in his chair and staring at the ceiling. Everything I came up with sounded like I’m a sodding fifteen-year-old girl.
His second drink went down even more smoothly that his first, and so Harry poured himself a third, and a fourth.
Vision hazy, he glanced around the room, spotting The Quibbler
. Giggling, he Levitated it over, only just managing to catch it without tumbling out of his chair. He’d tried reading the ads that were in the paper but he couldn’t seem to make his sound as good as the ones in the paper. Especially not this one,
he thought, staring at the ad that had caught his eye upon first perusing the section. ‘Intellectually superior wizard, not conventionally handsome but striking, professional, witty, with a seductive voice, seeks younger wizard who is on a voyage of self discovery. The man who responds to this ad should crave engaging conversation, intimate evenings in rather than public outings, and should desire passionate nights of sensual exploration and discovery. Respond if you’re willing to work for a relationship with a man who has known both tragedy and love in his life and seeks to build a satisfying bond with someone of compatible spirit.’
Harry sighed. Merlin, why can’t I write like that? He almost sounds like Snape.
Snorting to himself, Harry dismissed that as wishful thinking. Hermione’s right. I have to get over my Snape obsession. Although I do wish I could write like him--
Then he blinked as a brilliant idea occurred to him. Actually, I don’t have to write like that. All I have to do is reply to him
Before he could change his mind, Harry drew his wand, and, squinting at the reply box address, wrote a reply. It took him three times to produce something he thought the recipient, who called himself Shadow, would respond to. Thank goodness for Hermione’s spellcheck spell.
Giggling tipsily, Harry tapped the parchment and it disappeared, no doubt to sit in the recipient’s box until he went to collect it.
Finishing his drink, Harry staggered to bed, where he dreamed he was being seduced by a man with a voice like smooth, sweet custard.
Incessant tapping woke him. His head was splitting and his mouth tasted like old socks, but Harry dragged himself out of bed to see what was happening. Upon entering his kitchen, he found an unfamiliar owl at the window glaring at him. “Fine, fine,” Harry muttered, fumbling with the latch.
Once he let it in, the owl slipped inside, circling the room once before coming to rest on the table. A parchment was tied to its leg and, hand shaking, Harry reached for it.
“Ow!” he cried as the owl nipped at him and, without waiting for an answer, flew out. “Bloody bird.”
Stomping over to the counter, Harry started some tea and, while he waited, he sucked on his injured finger. Normally he would have taken some Hangover Potion but that was all the way back in his bathroom, and he didn’t feel as if his wandless levitation skills were up to that job without a cuppa.
It took him a couple of tries to unroll the parchment, but when he finally did, he blinked several times as he tried to sort through the contents. It seemed to be...some sort of summons.
Shaking his head, Harry poured his tea, which was ready, into his cup, carrying it and the parchment over to the table. A splash of milk, two lumps of sugar, and about ten sips later, Harry felt ready to tackle the note again. ‘Dear Lionsnitch, I received your less than coherent missive and despite the spelling errors I have decided that you show some promise. If you are still interested in pursuing a relationship, reply so that we may choose a venue in which to make initial contact.’
“Merlin, I wonder if he really speaks like this?” Harry muttered aloud. Unwilling to think too much without another cup of tea, Harry wandlessly Levitated the pot over and poured another.
As he sipped he stared out the window, pondering places to meet. More alcohol seemed a bad idea, so he immediately discarded any pubs. A restaurant could be okay, except he couldn’t really go anywhere without being gawped at, another reason his previous dates hadn’t gone well.
Reaching for the pot, Harry paused as something occurred to him. I know. What about a teahouse
? He’d seen cafes about, places that served coffee and pastries. Surely there are shops that serve tea.
Feeling better, Harry rose, padding into the bathroom for a shower. Once he was clean and fully awake, he walked over to his desk, retrieving some parchment and a quill. ‘Thank you for your fast reply. How about a tearoom? That way we can talk in a quiet and relatively private setting. Are there any local tearooms that you recommend?’
He sent it with his owl and, pleased, he set about tidying up his flat a bit. While he wasn’t necessarily counting on bringing the man back after drinking tea with him, Harry was optimistic enough that he wanted to have the place presentable.
His reply came in about an hour, carried by the same owl. Fortunately, Harry was prepared and managed to distract the tetchy bird with a couple of treats before retrieving the note. The owl hooted at him before flapping off.
Opening the parchment, Harry read, ‘You’re certainly a bold one. No need for me to guess your House affiliation, is there? Very well, since you wish to jump straight to the meat of things, as it were, meet me at the following Apparation coordinates in two hours.’
Harry raised an eyebrow. Guess he’s old-fashioned if he thinks meeting in a teahouse is bold.
Chuckling, he went to pick an outfit.
Within an hour, however, the owl was back, carrying a package. He offered it a treat but it refused to surrender the bundle until it got a second one and, laughing, Harry obliged. “You’re going to get fat,” he told it.
It hooted derisively at him before leaving. This wizard must be something. Even his owl has an attitude.
Opening the bundle, Harry’s eyes widened as a soft leather collar fell out. “What the hell--?” There was a note, and, frowning, Harry picked it up to read. ‘No, I am not suggesting anything too outré for our first date, but since you chose the venue I think it best we attempt to fit in. See you in forty-five minutes.’
Harry eyed the leather accessory. He considered not wearing it but then shrugged. It’s not as if I’m going to do anything I don’t want to do,
he thought. So what does it matter if I wear it
Of course, he did take the precaution of checking the collar thoroughly for hexes and curses, and, finding it clean, slipped it on beneath his shirt. It was loose.
Nervous, Harry decided to arrive at his location early. The tearoom turned out to be in an alley off a relatively prosperous Muggle neighbourhood, and, feeling better about his surroundings, Harry double checked his Glamour before approaching the building, which looked relatively nondescript. No one was visible through the large front windows.
Opening the door, Harry slipped inside, pausing to allow his eyes to adjust to the unexpected darkness. The windows are fake. How odd.
Blinking as he peered into the dimly lit room, Harry began to hear sounds. At first they made no sense but, as he began to see shapes in the darkness, but then they resolved into voices. At least there are people here.
There were tables, too, and he slowly made his way towards one.
“Lionsnitch?” asked a smooth voice directly behind him and Harry jumped.
The figure, whose face was shrouded by his cowled robes, nodded. “I have secured a booth for our use.”
Once they were seated, Harry looked around. “So this is the oddest teahouse I’ve ever seen,” he said. Had the voices surrounding them taken on a sensual quality?
“Have you visited many?” Shadow’s voice was gorgeous, and Harry shivered.
“I’ve never visited any,” Harry confessed. “But I do like tea, so--”
Shadow went still. Within moments, his shoulders began to shake. “You really wanted to get tea?” he asked, amusement lacing his voice.
“Yeah.” Harry frowned. “That was the plan.” His eyes widened as an unmistakable moan of pleasure came from one of the corners. “But that isn’t what this place is, is it?” he whispered.
“Indeed not.” Shadow seemed to be having in internal debate. Finally, he said, “I suspect what you meant to suggest was a tea house
rather than a tearoom
“Isn’t that the same thing?” Harry asked, shifting uncomfortably as the noises around them became more explicit. Oddly, the fact that he couldn’t see anything made the whole situation even more alluring. He was rapidly becoming aroused.
Harry could head the smirk in Shadow’s voice when he replied. “Clearly not.”
“Merlin. That’s why you told me to wear this, isn’t it?” Harry asked, touching the leather collar around his neck. “So no one else would try to, erm--”
“Claim you? Yes. And in order to identify you,” Shadow agreed. He sat back in his chair. “Fortunately, it worked. Unless you’d prefer to engage in the anonymous sex you hear all around us.”
“No!” Harry’s face was flaming. “No.” He dropped his face in his hands, mortified. “Maybe we should just forget this.”
Harry’s head popped up. “Because...um...” He gestured around them.
“Well, despite the rather unconventional start to the day, we seem to be getting along well together,” Shadow pointed out. “And think of the stories we can tell our acquaintances should our...association work out.”
Harry smiled, the knot in his stomach loosening. “Yeah.” He looked around. “So how many people are here?” he asked, licking his lips as he heard rhythmic grunting.
“I have no idea.” Shadow leaned forward before pushing back his cowl and his face became visible. “And before things go further, it’s time we reveal ourselves, don’t you think, Potter?”
“Snape!” Harry gaped. “What-- How--?” Hand trembling, Harry cancelled his Glamour. “How did you know that it was me?”
Snape pursed his lips. “A thousand little things, Potter. You have certain mannerisms that are purely you.” He regarded Harry carefully. “And an odd...innocence despite all your life experience.”
“Oh.” Harry looked away. I’m probably too unworldly for him. He must want someone who’s experienced and--
“That’s not a bad thing, Potter.” Snape’s voice was soft and whisky-smooth. “Don’t you recall what my ad said? I wish to find someone who wants to discover himself.” He smiled. “For example, if you wish to discover whether or not you enjoy a bit of exhibitionism, I am...open to that.”
Harry’s mouth dropped open. “You mean you would--?” His eyes darted about. “Here?”
“If you wish.” A fire seemed to kindle in the depths of Snape’s eyes. “I admit, the idea has some...appeal. If you’re amenable, of course.”
“I’m amenable.” Harry grinned. “Very amenable.”
“Indeed.” Snape seemed to relax. “Then perhaps it’s time to see if we’re truly compatible.”
“Okay.” Harry smiled. “So, um, what are we allowed to do?” he asked, ignoring the voice in his head - the one that sounded suspiciously like Hermione - telling him this was a very bad idea.
“Anything we like.” Snape’s expression hardened. “Although I do not engage in group sex activities, so if you wish to join any of the others here--”
“No!” Harry licked suddenly dry lips. The possessive glint in Snape’s eyes was as arousing as the sex noises surrounding them. “I only want you.”
“Wise choice,” Snape purred and before Harry could move, Snape had slid around in the booth so that he was pressed against Harry’s body. “There are sofas in the corner,” he murmured. “But I reserved a booth so that we could stay here. It’s relatively secluded.”
Swallowing hard, Harry nodded. “All right.”
Leaning in, Snape covered Harry’s mouth with his, gathering him close. Harry moaned, surrendering to Snape, arching up against him as Snape’s tongue thoroughly searched his mouth.
All around them, the gasps and moans of pleasure coming from the other guests in the tearoom seemed to get louder, making the experience even more erotic.
Snape began to undress Harry, sucking kisses into his jaw as he did so. Harry shifted, trying to help him, even as he clutched at Snape’s shoulders and attempted to get rid of his clothes, too.
Once their clothes had been tossed onto the seat, Snape clutched Harry’s hips, positioning him so that he was straddling Snape. “While I’ve no taste for dominance, you are quite alluring in this,” Snape murmured, slipping a finger beneath the leather collar and tugging Harry down to him.
They kissed again, and it was slower, wetter, hotter. Harry writhed on Snape’s lap, gasping as their cocks slowly slid together.
“What do you want?” Snape whispered, his finger sliding between Harry’s arse cheeks to feather against his hole.
“In me,” Harry said, his breath hitching. He was aching to be filled. Someone in the darkness beyond their booth was grunting rhythmically, and Harry could almost see in his mind the man being thoroughly fucked, a thick cock ramming itself deep. His hole clenched. “Fuck me,” he whispered against Snape’s mouth, his voice breaking. “Please.”
Snape growled, and a moment later Harry felt the cool slickness of a Lubrication Spell. A finger slipped inside him and Harry pushed back against it, trying to draw it deeper.
“Salazar,” Snape hissed, sliding a second finger inside Harry. “So tight.”
“More,” Harry gasped, hearing what sounded like cries of agreement coming from the others in the room.
Snape shifted and Harry could feel his cock nudging at his arse. Between them they managed to position it and, as Harry felt it pierce the ring of guardian muscles, he threw his head back and sat down. Slowly.
“Merciful Merlin,” Snape wheezed, his fingers undoubtedly leaving bruises on the skin of Harry’s hips. “Ride me!”
Harry nodded and, placing his hands against the top of the booth’s seat for support, began to move up and down, taking Snape deeper on each downstroke.
It was brilliant. Harry closed his eyes, savouring the stretch of Snape’s cock as well as the earthy cries of the other people fucking around them. Snape was arching up, meeting him stroke for stroke and Harry felt as if he’d fly apart at any moment.
It was when Snape slipped a hand between them to tug Harry’s cock, however, that Harry knew the meaning of pleasure. “Oh God!” he cried, his cock pulsing in Snape’s hand as he came.
His arse muscles contracted, dragging Snape’s orgasm from him, and for a few seconds, Harry felt as if he were suspended in mid-flight, about to plummet to the ground.
Snape slid a hand around Harry’s neck and savagely dragged him down, sealing their lips together, and Harry flew back to himself, grinding his hips against Snape’s to extract the last ounce of pleasure.
By the time their mouths separated, Harry was trembling and Snape...Snape was panting, his face buried in Harry’s neck. “You know, I believe we are...compatible,” he murmured.
Harry laughed softy as he slid out of Snape’s lap and back onto the booth seat. “If we were any more compatible we’d be one person.”
“Merlin forbid,” Snape shot back. “I’m not a very easy person to get along with.”
As Harry reached for their clothes, he smiled. “Good thing I am, then, hm?”
“Are you?” Snape’s eyes searched his.
“Sure.” Harry grinned, handing him his shirt. “If you go on another date with me, I’ll prove it.”
Snape smiled. “I believe I can be persuaded to do that.” He looked around. “Although may I suggest a more...conventional venue?”
“A pub,” Harry said firmly. “Dinner tomorrow night at a pub?” He paused in his dressing. “A pub is where people go to have a pint and eat, right?”
Snape chuckled. “As I understand it, yes.”
Harry exhaled. “Good.”
Harry was practically floating when he entered his flat. As he slipped of his robes, the Floo flared and a familiar voice said, “Harry? Are you there yet?”
Walking over to it, Harry answered the call, unsurprised to see Hermione’s face staring up at him from amidst the flames. “Yes, I’m here.”
“Where have you been?” she asked, looking relieved. “I was worried.” She raised an eyebrow. “And Luna said you didn’t place an ad.”
Harry smiled at her. “Oh, I decided to answer one instead. I went out on a date. So you see? I took your advice.”
She smiled, clearly relieved. “That’s wonderful, Harry. How was it? Where did you go? What did you do?”
Harry grinned, glad that she probably couldn’t see his blush through the flames. “It was brilliant, actually. And we, erm, met for tea.”
“Tea?” She sighed. “Hm, that’s a bit boring, isn’t it? I certainly hope your future dates are a bit more exciting. Successful relationships need...spice.”
Harry cleared his throat, somehow biting back laughter. “Oh, don’t worry, Hermione. I think he and I can manage to provide our own excitement.”