Entry tags:

character: neville, character: percy, genre: slash, kink: watersports, pairing: percy/neville, rating: nc-17

In the Shower (Percy/Neville, NC-17)
Title: In the Shower
Pairing: Percy/Neville
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 2028
Warnings: Watersports.
Disclaimer: Not mine. JKR's.
Summary: In the castle, Percy and Neville are respected professors. In the shower, they become something else entirely.
Notes: To celandineb: Happiest of Birthdays to you! ♥ It's been so wonderful getting to know you this year. I'm sorry this is a little late but I do hope the inclusion of your favorite rare kink makes up for that!

In the corridors, they were Professor Weasley and Professor Longbottom, nodding to each other as they passed. In the Great Hall, they acted no differently towards each other than they did towards any other staff members. In their respective classrooms, their identities stopped at Professor.

But in their shared quarters, when the students were ensconced in their dormitories and the fires burned low, Percy and Neville were lovers in the castle where they once had been children.

---

Percy heaved a great sigh and settled into his favourite chair by the fire, easing off his shoes. Thank god he wouldn't have to do rounds again for another week—he swore the students got more and more mischievous every year. It was almost as if they were extra unruly when Percy had rounds, though he knew that Neville had had some rough nights as well.

"Long day?" Neville asked, carrying in a cup of tea on a saucer and handing it to Percy.

"Oh, god, thank you," Percy said, fixated on the tendrils of steam rising from the Earl Grey. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, letting the damp heat of the tea fill his senses. Neville settled into an adjacent armchair, and Percy opened his eyes, smiling.

"Long day, yes," he replied, "Long week. I can't be the only one who's grateful it's Friday. But I don't want to talk about it. Nothing that matters, you know. Just—children." He waved a hand dismissively and sipped at his tea.

Neville laughed. "Sometimes, after all these years, I still wonder why exactly you decided to become a professor, you cranky old bastard."

Percy furrowed his brow and opened his mouth to speak, but Neville leaned over and kissed him, effectively shutting him up.

"I'm kidding," Neville said, "You're a wonderful professor, and you know it. Transfiguration hasn't been the same since you began teaching it. And I mean that in the best possible way, you know."

"I'm hardly Professor McGonagall," Percy replied, blushing a little at the praise, "But I try to carry on." He rolled his head around and around, and his neck made a series of cracking sounds. "Hmmmm," he moaned, and Neville gave a low chuckle.

"How about I take you to bed and give you a nice massage? I could relieve some of that tension in your neck," Neville suggested, his voice suggesting nothing deviant whatsoever.

"Hmm," Percy replied, considering the offer, taking a long sip from his teacup, "I think if you were to take me to bed right now, I'd fall asleep before you could even lay a hand on me." He quirked an eyebrow and nearly smiled, wondering if Neville would pick up on the unspoken challenge.

And Neville did.

He moved to stand in front of Percy, grinning, his hands on his hips, and Percy drained the last of his tea, setting the cup and saucer on the side table by his chair.

"Now," Neville said, settling into Percy's lap and wrapping his arms around Percy's neck, "I'm not going to give you the opportunity to fall asleep on me, because we're going to take a shower, which should wake you right up."

Percy smiled and kissed Neville, returning the embrace and nuzzling his way down Neville's neck. "Is that so?"

"That's so," Neville replied, tipping his head back a little. Percy took advantage of Neville's exposed neck and scraped his teeth over the tender skin there, causing Neville to shiver in the embrace.

"Get up, then, if you've got such big plans," Percy murmured. His cock began to stir in his trousers at the thought of taking Neville in the shower, something they hadn't done in quite some time.

"I would if you'd stop doing—ooh—that," moaned Neville as Percy began to suck and nip at Neville's collarbone.

Percy laughed and took his arms from around Neville. "Up, you!" he ordered, and Neville rose, holding out a hand to help Percy from the chair.

In the bathroom, Neville turned on the shower with a flick of his wand and the pipes screeched as the hot water began to flow through them and steam billowed into the room. Percy wasted no time undressing Neville, draping his robes and his clothing over the counter, and Neville returned the favour, kissing and licking at every newly exposed inch of Percy's skin.

When he reached Percy's growing cock, peeling back the foreskin and giving the tip a swipe with his tongue, Percy laughed and pushed Neville's face away. "I thought you were going to wake me up in the shower!" he protested.

Neville grinned and struggled to his feet, his own erection jutting proudly. "Fine, fine," he complained, but he was smiling, and he took Percy's glasses from his face and guided him into the shower spray.

"Ohh," Percy sighed as he let himself be surrounded by the steam and spray. "Brilliant idea, Neville." He tipped his head back and slicked his fringe from his face, his eyes closed. Neville's arms went around him, then, and his own arms went automatically around Neville. He bent to capture Neville's mouth in a kiss, his erection pressing against Neville's belly.

Neville's own erection was insistent against Percy's hip, and they embraced for a long moment, each thrusting against the other. Percy thought he could almost come like this; the combination of the heat and noise of the shower and the impossible nearness of Neville was so sensual, so deliciously overwhelming.

Percy groaned a little and began to thrust harder, but Neville snaked a hand between them and cupped the end of Percy's prick. Percy blinked open his eyes and gazed down at Neville's blurry form.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Neville replied, stroking his thumb across the head of Percy's cock. "Just—I was thinking. Do you remember the first time we—um." Neville moved closer, pressing his face against Percy's chest and mumbling the end of his sentence.

"The first time we what?" Percy asked, his hands exploring Neville's back and arse.

"Er—in the shower. You know."

It took Percy a moment to realise what Neville was alluding to, and when he finally did, he felt his face stain with a blush.

"You mean when we, um. In the shower."

"I—yeah."

It had been Percy's idea—a deviant one, certainly, and one which, at one time, he'd never have thought he would have the courage to mention to Neville, or to anyone. But he'd stammered out his request one night at the start of Christmas hols when they'd both had too much red wine, and his blush had deepened when Neville had nodded, his mouth hanging open just a little.

They had immediately repaired to this very shower, Percy remembered, and after much fumbling and mumbling and blushing, they had both discovered that what had initially seemed unthinkably dirty (though intriguing) was, in fact, to become a favourite sexual indulgence of them both.

And they'd managed it a few times since then, always in the shower (though Percy sometimes wondered—he knew several excellent cleansing spells, after all—what it would be like to do it in the bed or in a chair) and when one of them could get over his embarrassment enough to get the request out, it was bliss.

"Do you want to—can you?" Percy asked. Neville bit his lip and looked up, his brow furrowed.

"I don't know—maybe. I think so," he replied. "Can you?"

Percy closed his eyes and inhaled lungfuls of steam, listening to the water cascade around him. Something inside him tightened, and he reached down to grip his prick.

"Yes," he said after a moment, "Definitely. Oh. Yes. Just let me—I'm a bit too hard, I think. Give me—oh—a moment."

Neville stepped away, and Percy closed his eyes. Neville was so quiet that Percy could have been alone in the shower, and he occupied his mind with thoughts of the stack of essays he was going to have to grade that weekend instead of thoughts of what he was about to do.

Finally, his erection had subsided enough the he felt he could do it, and he opened his eyes.

"I'm ready," he said to Neville's blurred shape, and he moved forward to where Neville stood against the shower wall, out of the spray, slowly pumping his erection.

"It was nice to watch you just now," Neville said, thrusting forward into his fist.

Percy smiled, his eyes half-lidded. "Now you stop that," he chided, "Or I'll get hard again, and I won't be able to—" He couldn't ever bring himself to say the word, and he wasn't certain why. They did it—that was so much dirtier than a simple word.

"Won't be able to what?" Neville teased.

Percy smirked. "You know what," he said, taking his prick into his hand. He knew that Neville couldn't say it, either, so the challenge was meaningless.

"Do it," Neville whispered then, and Percy nodded and took another step forward so he was pressed flush against Neville and concentrated for a moment until his stream began to flow, passing from his prick onto Neville's belly and hand and cock.

"Oh—" Neville choked, and he made a sort of strangled sound in the back of his throat and began to pump his cock madly. Percy put one arm around Neville, holding him up, and used the other to aim his prick, washing the golden flow over Neville's skin as Neville gasped and writhed beneath it.

"Yes, Percy, oh my god," Neville babbled, and Percy concentrated on controlling his stream, letting out just enough so it remained steady but not so much that he might spend it all before Neville was ready to come.

He held Neville close as he neared the end of his stream, hoping Neville could come as he so loved to do, with Percy's flow running over his cock.

"Do it," Neville choked then, and Percy bit his lip. He was nearly done; he probably only had a few more seconds' worth of—

"Piss on me," Neville whispered then, and he gave a great jerk forward and Percy felt something spatter against his hip, and he gasped and let out the rest of what he had, spraying Neville with the last golden droplets.

"Oh, my god," Neville panted, sinking to the shower floor, "Oh my god, oh my god. Percy."

Percy's own knees were shaking—he was rock hard—how had that dirty word been so erotic, and how had it passed Neville's lips?

"Can you—" Percy managed, his hard prick in his hand, "Will you—?" He put his hand in Neville's wet hair and Neville moved forward with boneless compliance to wrap his mouth around Percy's prick, and it was sooner than Percy would have liked that he found himself saying oh and pushing Neville's head away and fisting himself to completion, spurting and spattering all over the shower floor, his come swirling down the drain with the water.

He collapsed, then, into Neville's waiting embrace, and the two of them sat twined together for a long moment at the edge of the shower's spray, until Percy groaned and stretched and blew out a long breath. He stood, then, offering a hand to Neville.

"Oof," Neville remarked as he stood, "My knees aren't what they used to be."

Percy smiled at this and drew Neville close, kissing him on his wet head. Percy's spent cock lay sensitive against his thigh, and he winced a little as Neville pressed a little too close.

"Neither of us are as we used to be," he replied, "But I don't think I mind."

---

In the corridors and in the Great Hall and in their classrooms, Percy and Neville were professional, respectable, even boring. Percy knew he was called stuffy sometimes behind his back, but he didn't mind.

In their quarters, they were lovers, companions, confidantes. And they lived for each other.

And in the shower, sometimes, they were dirty, deviant, indecent.

And they loved it.