InsaneJournal

Posterior Proclivity (Harry/Neville, NC-17)
Title: Posterior Proclivity
Pairing: Harry/Neville
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 1312
Warnings: Spanking
Disclaimer: Not mine. JKR's.
Summary: Neville's uncertain about divulging a secret kink, but Harry coaxes him into it.
Notes: Happy, happy birthday to my dear darling coffee_n_cocoa! I imagine that Neville porn is on your list of birthday wishes, and so I come bearing gifts. I hope you enjoy it! I've been wanting to write this scenario for you for quite some time.



"Harry? Were you ever spanked as a child?"

Neville mentally smacked himself on the forehead. For weeks he'd been wanting to bring up an idea he'd had, and as soon as he asked the question he was certain he'd gone about it the wrong way. He really had to stop blurting things out over breakfast.

Harry looked over the morning paper and spoke around a mouthful of toast.

"No. I was locked in my cupboard." Harry paused, chewing and swallowing. "Why?"

"I—oh, I was just wondering," Neville replied, and he reached for the butter dish, willing away the colour he could already feel rising in his cheeks.

Harry cocked his head, raised and eyebrow, and lowered the paper a little more.

"Okay," he replied, "Why were you wondering?"

"I, um—I just thought—you know, that can lead to, um, traumatic—associations. Later in life. So I've heard."

"Okay," said Harry again, then, "Were you, Nev?'

"What—? Oh. For punishment? No. I had to do extra chores." Neville busied himself spreading butter on his toast.

There was silence for a moment, then the clatter of teacup on saucer, then Harry spoke.

"Neville?"

"Yes?"

"Are you trying to tell me something?"

Neville took a bite of toast to put off having to answer.

Harry waited.

"No," Neville said finally, and the blush rose even higher in his cheeks.

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure," said Neville, giving one quick nod. Better to just end this disaster of a discussion as soon as possible.

"All right," said Harry, his voice indicating that he didn't believe Neville for even a moment. He went back to his paper and Neville finished his breakfast, then cleared the plates and set about doing the washing-up while Harry finished the Sports section.

Neville nearly dropped the plate he was washing when strong arms went around him from behind and hot breath ghosted across his ear.

"Harry!"

"Nev, finish the dishes later." Harry began dropping kisses along Neville's neck, and Neville shut off the water and wiped his hands on a tea towel, turning around in the embrace.

"What's all this?" he asked, smiling, capturing Harry's mouth in a kiss.

"I like a man who's domestic," purred Harry, and Neville half-laughed, half-snorted into the kiss that Harry pressed to his mouth.

"Upstairs," Harry said, and he tightened his embrace, and before Neville knew what was happening, Harry had Apparated them both to the bedroom.

"Wish you'd warn me," Neville complained, but he quickly forgot his protest as Harry pressed him to the bed, tugging his t-shirt over his head and sucking on his nipples.

"Mmm, 's nice," Neville murmured as Harry began to rut against him. Neville's cock grew to full hardness in his pyjama bottoms, and he pressed against Harry, wrapping his leg around the back of Harry's thigh and thrusting upwards.

"Hold on," Harry said, resting his chin on Neville's chest and looking up at Neville's face, "I brought you up here for a reason, you know."

"I thought this was that reason," countered Neville, thrusting his hips upward once more.

"Nope," grinned Harry. "You were asking some interesting questions at breakfast."

Neville's cock gave an interested twitch in his pants. "Oh?"

"Yes. And now the only question is, were you thinking I'd do it to you, or you'd do it to me?"

"I—" said Neville, and he blushed yet again.

"You what?" grinned Harry, palming Neville's straining cock through two layers of cotton.

"You can't be serious," gasped Neville, but the expression on Harry's face was deadly serious.

"Do you want me to spank you, Neville?"

Neville choked on his reply, then tried again.

"Yes," he said in a very small voice.

"Yes, what?"

"Yes—please."

Harry grinned. "Over my knee, then," he said, and he rolled off Neville.

It was an awkward position, to be sure, draped over Harry's lap with his bum up in the air. Neville tried to relax, but as soon as he did, he tensed up again, for Harry began tugging down Neville's pyjamas and his pants, then ran his palm over Neville's exposed arse.

"Have you been naughty?" Harry asked then, his voice barely above a whisper, and the question sent a shiver down Neville's spine.

"You can tell me," coaxed Harry, and his fingers dipped between Neville's buttocks as he continued to caress Neville's arse.

"Yes," whispered Neville, smiling and finally relaxing, giving in. "Yes—I need to be s—spanked."

The touch of Harry's hand disappeared for a moment, and Neville thrust his arse up into the air in anticipation.

The first blow landed squarely on Neville's left buttock with a crack! that resounded throughout the bedroom.

"Unh!" gasped Neville, and he thrust his arse up again, reflexively. He squeezed shut his eyes—it had hurt more than he expected, but now there was a rosy sort of warmth filling him.

"Again," murmured Harry, and it was almost a question, but not quite, and he smacked Neville's other buttock, harder this time, and Neville gasped.

"Again." And Harry rained down three blows in succession, each a little harder than the last, and Neville gasped and squirmed under Harry's ministrations, but he thrust his arse ever upwards to meet the blows.

"Again." And it was Neville who said it this time, and Harry paused and then began spanking him in earnest, smacking him on the left, then the right, then switching up his order. Neville never knew where Harry's wide palm would land next, and he cried out as the pain of each blow bloomed into pleasure.

"Again, again, again," Neville chanted, and he vaguely wondered how red his arse must be—it was radiating heat, and as Harry smoothed his hand over it between spankings, the heat intensified.

"More—Harry, please—" Neville begged, arching halfway off Harry's lap, and Harry showered Neville's arse with smacks of his palm until finally Neville thought he could take no more. His eyes were watering, and he collapsed, babbling, euphoric, in Harry's lap, and Harry's hand smoothed a path over one buttock, then the other, soothing. Neville crawled off Harry's lap and lay facedown on the bed. His erection had subsided only a little during his spanking, and as he rutted against the quilt, it returned.

"Harry," Neville moaned, "Harry—" And then Harry was there, laying kisses where he had so recently lain blows, his lips easing the blooming pleasure-pain, and Neville took his cock in hand and brought himself off all over the quilt in a matter of moments, Harry's mouth and fingertips calming his abused skin.

"Oh," Neville gasped, collapsing once more, "Harry—here—" and he turned over and held out his arms, and Harry sank into the embrace, smiling.

"You liked that," he said, pushing his own erection against Neville's stomach.

"More than I even thought possible," Neville replied, a satiated grin crossing his face, his eyes closing of their own accord.

"So what was with all the roundabout questioning at breakfast?" Harry asked as Neville reached down between their bodies, pushed down Harry's pants, and stroked Harry's erection.

"I didn't know if you'd think it was weird," confessed Neville, peeling back Harry's foreskin and dipping a finger into the slit where fluid was already spilling over.

"Not at all, oh my god, Neville. Not at all," said Harry, and then they didn't speak any more, and a moment later Harry arched backwards as he spurted over Neville's fingers and onto the quilt, his come mingling with Neville's as Harry relaxed.

"Next time," Harry murmured, putting his arms around Neville and kissing the shell of his ear, "Maybe you could do it to me."

Neville's stomach twisted and his cock twitched.

"Oh, yes," he replied, running a hand over Harry's naked arse.