yule_balls_mod (yule_balls_mod) wrote in hp_yule_balls, @ 2008-12-18 12:02:00 |
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Entry tags: | 2008, character: draco malfoy, character: neville longbottom, fic, pairing: draco/neville |
Fic: Hero Worship (Draco/Neville, NC-17) for serpenscript
Author: regasssa
Recipient: serpenscript
Title: Hero Worship
Rating: NC-17
Pairing(s): Draco Malfoy/Neville Longbottom
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters herein are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended. All characters engaging in sexual activity are 16 years or older.
Summary: Dynamics change during war time situations. Draco Malfoy isn't who everyone thinks he is...but then, neither is Neville.
Warnings: light bondage, PWP, graphic sex, spanking, double penetration, Object insertion, humiliation, semi-public/interrupted sex
Word Count: 2994
Author's Notes: I tried to include a good few of your kinks, and some that were new to me. I hope you enjoy it!
"I know what you're doing, Malfoy, and it won't work."
He'd just witnessed Malfoy positively ignoring one of the Hufflepuff second years breaking Snape's rules. With nobody watching, or so he'd thought, he'd just kind of looked away, but Neville had caught him at it.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Malfoy drawled, in that utterly infuriating way he had of winding you up absolutely any time he opened his mouth.
"Of course you don't. Look...it's getting to you, right?"
"I am not having this discussion," Malfoy snarled, turning on him. Neville thought that he saw his eyes flash, so he held his ground and let the Slytherin leave. It was obviously never going to work.
- * - * - * -
The conversation wasn't over, though. After one of Carrow's lessons, in which three more students had been tortured in front of the class, and one of them by Malfoy, Neville found himself seized by his arm and dragged off into a corridor he'd never seen before. It was dark here; the torchlight didn't quite reach them, but he could smell that it was Malfoy...he'd recognise that particular potion cologne anywhere.
"What is it?"
"If I help you..." Malfoy's voice had a tremulous quality that if anything, only made Neville more curious. He swallowed audibly and tried again. "If I help you, then it's got to be completely secret. Nobody knows. Not even when this is over. Understand?"
"But what if they're trying to send you to Azkaban?"
"Even then. If I go to Azkaban, then I deserve it, right? Look...there's a staff meeting tomorrow night. Between eight and nine. If you need to do anything...then that's going to be the safest time."
"And what do you want in return for this information...?" Neville asked, dubiously. He didn't trust the Slytherin as far as he could throw him.
"If I wanted anything, I wouldn't have given it away, would I? Just...make it worth it."
- * - * - * -
Checking on the house elves and smuggling out supplies turned out to be the best use of the uninterrupted time. It was a long way between the sub level and the seventh floor, and there was just about enough time for two trips each for the older students that Neville drafted in. The younger students got tired faster, and only managed one, but they managed to gather a reasonable amount of food, and they had only one person to thank.
Neville fell into step beside Draco for a few seconds on the trip down toward the dungeons -- just long enough to say 'Thanks' before he hurried on again, briskly.
But Draco wasn't done. There was more information, room plans drawn between the lines of old pieces of homework and details of Snape's routes around the school that only a Slytherin could be aware of.
- * - * - * -
"I want you to hurt me."
It wasn't what Neville had been expecting when Draco pushed him into the bushes behind the greenhouse. The rainwater on the disturbed leaves was cold, soaking through his clothing, and the loose earth slid underneath his feet, so that he lost his balance and went down in the mud with Draco on top of him.
"Hurt you?" he asked, uncomfortably.
"You heard me, Longbottom. That's my price. For the information."
"That makes no sense," he tried. "Look...if I hurt you, you're not going to want to tell me anything any more, are you?"
Draco scowled, "And yet you're going to get nothing if you don't. This is my price, Longbottom. I don't have to explain why...you're just going to have to take it or leave it."
Information that could save lives versus roughing Draco up a bit...well; that seemed like an easy option. He'd always wanted to punch the git...so maybe this was his chance? He drew back his fist, but Draco flinched away. "Don't hit me in the face, you idiot!" he spat. "What're you trying to do? Break my nose?"
"But..."
"I meant hurt me," Draco growled. His hand was up over his nose, protectively. "I don't want anyone else to know you're doing it. Just me."
"I..." Neville frowned. "I don't know how." Draco looked angry, so he protested, "Give me a break, Malfoy. You're the one who's been brought up to torture people."
"Fine," Draco hissed. "I'll show you how it's done."
Neville hesitated as Draco sat up over him, reaching up to undo the buttons of his robes. He was stripping off!
"No! What the hell are you doing?!" he tried to stop him, reaching up to grab at his wrists, but Malfoy was already shrugging the heavy robes off his shoulders, his face betraying absolutely no emotion at all. It seemed almost routine. To strip naked in the bushes outside the greenhouses? Yeah...sure.
Of course, there was the matter of that scar crossing Malfoy's chest. Where the hell had he gotten something like that? He had almost touched it before he recoiled his hand. "Oh..." Neville said, startled, and then "So this is some kind of...fetish thing, right?"
"What?" Malfoy asked, dryly. "Oh...Potter did this."
Potter? Harry? "That's a horrible thing to say," Neville said. "Harry's not here to defend himself."
"None the less," Draco hissed, "It was Potter's doing. He almost killed me, whether you believe it or not. Hey...maybe you should ask him? Oh, but you don't know where he is, do you?" The sarcasm didn't quite bite as hard as he was used to.
Neville scowled. Assuming they all got out of this alive, he would ask Harry. But right now he had a very naked Draco Malfoy sitting on his lap. With a bulging erection pressing eagerly against the taut fabric of his underwear.
"Er...now look, I don't know what kind of guy you think I am, Malfoy...but..."
"You're one who wanted to look after the kids in this school, right? Do you want my information or what?"
"I'm not having...d-doing this with you to get information." He blushed even thinking it, but saying it made him want to shrivel up and hide. "Aren't you even cold?"
"Freezing," Malfoy admitted. "It's up to you. You either choose my punishment yourself, or I will."
"Punishment, though...for what?"
Malfoy looked away. He seemed pale and fragile...what had he done that was so bad? He certainly didn't seem to want to tell Neville, anyway. "Choose," he said, instead.
"I can't," Neville said. "Look...this is just weird, Malfoy."
"I wouldn't be asking if there wasn't a reason," Draco said, fiercely. "You're just convenient."
"Convenient how?" he asked, scowling.
"You're Hogwarts' new hero, aren't you?"
Neville's slow brain was catching on to something here. He frowned, then leant forward. "This is about Harry, isn't it?" Draco looked scandalised; embarassed, but he looked away, and Neville could tell that it was. He pressed on, "Harry hurt you and...and what? It made you feel alive? So you're looking for someone else to do it." Punishment... He frowned. "What did you do that's so horrible that you need to get hurt for it?"
"Shut up, Longbottom."
"What was it?" Neville pressed, digging his fingers into the wet grass and trying to sit up. "Did you kill someone?"
"I wish I had," Draco spat, angrily.
Neville flushed, but Draco was leaning over him, his thin chest heaving in desperate gulps of air, his pupils slightly dilated, even in the white highland sunlight.
"I need this, that's all."
"So you're going to...to..." Neville's nose scrunched up. He couldn't even say it.
"Depends on you," Draco murmured. "I need it, though. If you don't do it...I'll just have to find someone else who will."
He should back out now, let Draco go and find some other Gryffindor who wouldn't mind beating him around a bit. But that wasn't responsible, either. Neville wasn't a violent person by nature...maybe he could do Draco some good; fix whatever was broken inside him? Or at least save him from someone else with less than noble intentions. And the information was valuable. What was beating on Malfoy a bit if he could save some lives?
"What do I do?" he finally asked, with a sigh.
"Hit me."
"You didn't want me to do that..." Neville reminded him, cautiously.
"Not like that. Like your grandmother hit you when you were little."
His nerves were frayed already, but Draco's suggestion was almost too much for him. Smack him? Like a naughty child? His expression must have faltered, because Malfoy narrowed his eyes and said "If you won't..."
"Alright," he tried, pretending to be brave. "Fine." His cheeks felt like they were burning, but that was nothing to how he felt when Draco moved off to one side, dug his nails into the fresh, wet earth, and mooned him. Neville closed his eyes tightly. Why hadn't anyone given him any kind of warning about this kind of thing? Malfoy was a weirdo...and he was just going to accept that? Do what he had to do? Somehow he doubted that this was in the Gryffindor Handbook.
"I...okay." He felt more nervous than he should be. After all...he was the one doing the smacking, not receiving it, but it wasn't in his nature to hurt things and this, judging by Draco's erection, was overtly sexual. Neville closed his eyes tightly and hit him as gently as he could.
"Harder," Draco admonished.
"Shut up, Malfoy. This is gross." He took a quick look, corrected his aim, then grimaced and looked away as he did it. This time, Malfoy almost yelped, but that didn't stop him saying 'Harder' again.
- * - * - * -
It didn't take too long to get used to hitting him. Malfoy seemed to like it, and always ran off looking ashamed when Neville said that his hand was hurting and he couldn't do it any more. Of course, the first time Malfoy didn't run away, and instead seized his always present erection and masturbated in front of him, Neville was horrified. He called it off then and there. But Malfoy came back, and he let him.
And then their relationship changed abruptly.
"S-stop it, Malfoy. If we get caught..."
"We won't be if you shut up. Madam Pince goes to have a tipple of brandy at this time every day. I told you."
Draco's hand was still thrust down Neville's trousers, fingers wriggling around to wrap around his cock and wrench it free of its prison. It would have been bad enough without Draco kneeling in front of him and taking it ruthlessly into his mouth without even a 'by your leave'. But it was good... He lost his balance slightly, his knees feeling week, and the bookshelf behind him creaked under the stress of his sudden weight, a few precariously balanced books sliding out of place.
If Draco could talk, he'd be saying smarmy git kinds of things like 'You like that?" just like he had when they'd frotted against each other before the Christmas holidays in a broom cupboard on the ground floor, spilling paint and knocking things over in their fervour. He was surely losing his mind, but this war was horrible, and what little solace he found he had with Draco was welcome. This was a wonderful 'welcome back' present though. Maybe Draco had been saving it.
Somehow, Draco was supporting his weight as well as exploring him fondly with his tongue. It swirled around his erection, and then slid underneath it as Draco sucked. And then...then Draco purred, and the vibration crawled all the way through him in a wonderful way.
"You...been practicing?" Neville gasped, trying to keep his voice down. He flailed for a handhold on the bookshelf, a few books cascading down to crash around Draco, who just moaned in response. At some point Draco had wrapped his hand around his own arousal too, and he masturbated wildly in time with his frantic headbobbing.
"That's it..." Neville groaned, dropping his head back, his hips arching toward that perfect heat -- that fire and friction that surrounded his cock so deliciously. He closed his eyes, losing control as Draco cried out and came, his throat opening so that Neville slid deeper, choking him, pulling his head roughly forward and sending more books flying in the process. Draco sobbed, and Neville came ruthlessly. Malfoy gagged and spluttered, pulling away from him clutching at his throat, but Neville was having a hard time caring.
Until a woman shrieked.
- * - * - * -
"I can't believe she didn't tell them what the detention was for," Draco was saying, touching the deep cuts on Neville's cheek with his hankerchief. They'd be fine, but they were going to scar, he thought. "You're not going to tell anyone, are you?"
"Are you kidding?" Neville asked, disbelieving. "I'll make up some story about getting it for trying to save people. They'd never believe me, anyway."
"Mmm."
"What is it?" Neville asked.
Draco seemed to be avoiding him with his eyes. When he pulled out something large and tubular, with a rounded end, Neville suddenly knew why. "You can't be serious."
"I am serious." Neville shifted uncomfortably in the flower bed which they'd made their hiding place for trysts. It was wet again, just like the first time, and the rain was falling lightly, misting over them. It didn't bother either of them much -- at least it was spring now, and while it wasn't warm, they'd made sporious use of warming charms.
"Alright...um...right." What did you say to that, anyway? He'd never taken Draco for...well, maybe he hadn't once, but to be honest, the Draco he knew now was just the kind to do that type of thing.
Malfoy didn't respond; he was too busy stripping off, and Neville sucked in a sharp breath. His arse was wet and slick, and as he bent over, Neville could see that it was already pink; stretched an abused. "What have you...?" he asked, cautiously. "How long have you been doing this?" And then it occured to him -- Draco had already been fucking himself with the thing. "Oh...I-I..."
"It's nothing I haven't done before. You just have to..." Draco brushed the phallus up against his pucker, pushed gently, so that his body swallowed it effortlessly. It was disgusting, obviously, but also arousing. Neville shifted uncomfortably, especially when he spared a glance to Draco's face, which was blissful, his eyes closed, his mouth slightly open.
"What do I do?" Neville asked. His own mouth was dry, and even though he swallowed and licked at his lips, it didn't much help.
"Push it in and out..." Draco demonstrated, moaned, and Neville bit down a whimper of his own. He took the end of the dildo nervously, pulled it out and almost dropped it, then pushed it back in. Draco moaned again -- it was an interesting response for such an easy process, so Neville did it again - and again, watched Draco twist and writhe, until he physically pulled away from Neville, turning around and bracing his hands against the floor. Neville could see the end of it peeking out where Draco sat on it; couldn't look away.
"Use your tie," he groaned. "Tie my wrists together. Here..." Draco moved his hands out in front of him, his wrists pressed together. Caught in the moment, Neville couldn't resist, and with Draco tied up he found himself drawn closer.
"Now fuck me," Draco growled, resisting when Neville moved. "Don't take it out. There's some potion in my robes...put it on...put it on you, then just..."
"Are you sure?" Neville asked, carefully. "Won't it hurt?"
"It might," Draco hissed. "But I can get more fingers in usually. Please..."
It was hard to be embarassed when he was so aroused. He wanted to do it. He found the potion Draco was talking about, stripping off his clothes urgently. The grass protested as he slid into place, the soft wet earth clinging to their skin, rain dripping from his nose. But it didn't matter when he reached down, slid the phallus far enough out to push in beside it, and then slowly pushed into Draco. ...Draco, whose bound hands were twisted so that he could wrap his hands around his erection, his eyes had rolled back in his head, his mouth frozen open in either a moan or a scream.
Neville sat there for a moment, knowing what to do by instinct but worried about Draco, but movement overwhelmed him before Draco's face finally twisted into one of sheer pleasure; the thrust of hips towards his own. It was all he needed to trigger a steady rhythm into the Slytherin; pushing in and dragging back out with significant effort, his body aching in the need for more friction, for more wonderful heat. Draco's body was tight around him, his muscles squeezed with every thrust, and the dildo was hard and unforgiving against his cock. His eyes lost focus.
Faster and faster, harder and harder. Neville twisted Draco up underneath him, buried himself deeper until Draco positively sang. It was primal, furious, wonderful...it seemed to go on forever and yet blur into just a few seconds all at once, and the orgasm... Neville didn't like flying, but that was the sensation - and out of control, mindblowing broomstick flight straight over the moon and into the depths of space.
- * - * - * -
"So..." Draco looked at Neville hungrily. The war was over, and he was one of the lucky ones, allowed to return to finish his seventh school year and under almost constant supervision, but it wasn't Azkaban.
"You want to call things off?" Neville asked, frowning.
"No," came the instant reply. "Why would I?"
"Well...Harry's here now. I thought..."
"Oh..." the Slytherin looked down. "I don't want to go through all that again..."
He was silent for a moment, so Neville was silent too, finally letting out a soft sigh. "I guess, since I've got nothing better to do. And...well..."
"The grass has grown back?" Draco asked.
"Yeah," Neville said. "That's exactly what I meant to say."
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