FIC: Kindred Souls (Chapter 1) - Snape/Filch - NC-17 Title: Kindred Souls Author: D. J. Orlovský Translation (from Czech): pimpinellae Pairing: Snape/Filch Rating: NC-17 Warnings: use of drugs Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to J. K. Rowling. Notes: Many thanks to rastaban43 for making my translation much better. Summary: How do you think a former Death Eater and a Squib spend their free evenings at Hogwarts? (A story in seven chapters for the seven books + prologue.)
A muffled thud of a door outside in the hallway was followed by shuffling footsteps. The heavy oak door opened a crack with a lot of creaking and then became stuck and the newcomer had to push to create a crevice wide enough to squeeze into the room.
It was gloomy inside. The only source of light was a narrow window high under the ceiling. The window wasn’t even real, because the old classroom was in one of the lower floors of the dungeons. There had probably never been any lessons held here anyway. Old desks piled up by the opposite wall were covered in a hundred-year-old layer of dust and enveloped with cobwebs. There was a damp and stale air about the place.
"Someone should do something about the blasted door," Filch complained, sitting down on an old mattress which, thanks to a charm, emitted pleasant heat.
"Hm," Snape murmured, not opening his eyes.
Filch scrutinized the Potions Master – Snape sat next to him, back leaned against the wall and legs stretched out, looking tired.
"Hard day?" Filch asked sympathetically.
"Longbottom melted his third cauldron in one month, Goyle nearly poisoned himself with fumes from his potion, Belesey got wizard measles and Parkinson her first menstruation, and that is not mentioning that McGonagall forced the Potter brat into her house's Quidditch team and Dumbledore – Dumbledore gets on my nerves habitually. So yeah, I'd say that today was pretty hard," Snape hissed irritably.
"Dumbledore is one of the worst things that has ever happened to this school," Filch said after a moment of silence.
"You are beginning to sound like Lucius," Snape said, disgusted. "He sent me another owl just this morning. The snob thinks I have nothing better to do than mollycoddle his spoilt little son."
Snape sat up, crossed his legs and pulled a small worn pouch out of his robes. He opened it and his long, thin fingers took from inside a roll of white paper and a small wooden box. Snape separated one sheet of paper from the roll and laid it down on the mattress.
Filch never got tired watching Snape's hands as they shook fragrant herbs from the wooden box and rolled it all up. Filch almost mechanically took out matches and silently handed them to the Potions Master. Snape accepted them without a thank you and lit up his joint. He took a slow drag and handed it to Filch.
"We are ruining our health with this," Filch said and after a short hesitation accepted the joint.
"Everyone has to die from something," Snape said indifferently. "I have no desire to live into senility like Dumbledore," he added after taking another drag.
"Do you reckon Dumbledore is senile?" Filch asked and took two drags before returning the cigarette to Snape.
"Of course he is," Snape nodded. "Always was," he sneered and inhaled the smoke with relish.
"He is a bit old for this job as well," Filch said and as always tried to mirror Snape's careless yet elegant way of holding the cigarette.
"Downright ancient," Snape snorted and stretched his legs. "He should retire and wait peacefully for the Grim Reaper to take him, but of course he can't do that. He has to meddle all the time." He reached to Filch for the joint.
"Someone should replace him. Someone who would know how to rule this school," Filch agreed. "Someone like you." He smiled sycophantically and watched as Snape thoughtfully blew out smoke.
"Yes." Snape nodded and either he couldn't or didn't want to see Filch's outstretched hand, and the joint stayed in his hand while he dreamily stared somewhere ahead. "I'd rule the school quite differently."
"Undoubtedly better," Filch agreed.
"I'd put everything in order," Snape said forcefully and handed Filch the cigarette.
"Students would be obliged to show the staff more respect, wouldn't they?" Filch smiled.
"Definitely. And I wouldn't stand for breaking the rules and for Potters."
"And for mud on the stairs," Filch added.
"And Quirrell would be sacked."
"And the dolt Hagrid, too."
"And I'd teach Defense."
"And throw out Peeves."
"Merlin, I'd eat something," Snape announced, stubbed out the rest of his joint and got to his feet.
Filch got up.
"The kitchen?" he asked Snape when they went to the door.
"No, to Hagrid," muttered Snape. "Of course to the kitchen, Filch!"
This late in the evening the kitchen was empty. The house-elves spent the night cleaning up in the castle.
"Do you want some?" Filch asked and picked up a tray with treacle tart.
"I won't eat anything the sniveling brats might have touched," Snape snorted and headed for the larder.
He opened its door and surveyed the stock. His eyes and taste buds were drawn to a ham hanging from a hook. He came back for a knife and cut a slice to taste it. "Such a waste of food," he muttered, his mouth full. "Cold cereal and milk would be enough for the little bastards."
Snape took the ham of the hook, found a cutting board and went to the table on which Filch was seated, stuffing himself full of the treacle tart. He sat down beside him.
"At least we know what our taxes are used for." Snape sneered and cut another slice of the lean meat.
"For fattening up those little bastards," Filch said.
Snape nodded and cut a slice of ham for him as well, then he wiped his hands on his trousers and took out his worn pouch.
"Here?" Filch asked, unsure.
Snape only curled his lip and rolled up another joint.
"It was a very hard day," he said as he lit the cigarette.
He closed his eyes, laid down on his back and blissfully took a drag.
"It's almost as good as sex," he sneered and ran a hand over his crotch.
Filch almost forgot to breathe as he watched Snape absentmindedly rub his lap. Snape looked as if he had forgotten both about Filch and his cigarette. His eyes were closed, his face was peaceful and relaxed and through the cloth of his trousers he massaged his cock with his palm. Perhaps the professor's hand had slipped a bit this time and the joint was a bit more potent than usual. Filch couldn't find any other explanation for Snape's behaviour, and he couldn't get enough of the sight. They slept together pretty regularly but it was always dark and somewhere in private where they could hardly be disturbed. They often didn't even shed their clothes properly, taking off only what they absolutely had to. Filch never voiced any objections because he was painfully aware that he was no beauty and his age didn't make him more attractive either. Thus Filch never had the opportunity to see the Potions Master in his full naked beauty.
The butt end fell from Snape's hand. His breathing got slower and his pale face turned pink with arousal.
Arousal which Filch could almost feel, almost taste. He slid from the table, pushed Snape's hand aside and unbuttoning his trousers freed his erection.
Snape moaned when his drug-intensified senses felt cool air on the hot smooth skin of his cock.
Filch closed his fingers around Snape's cock which stood so obscenely out of his unbuttoned fly, and pulled at it lightly, just enough to elicit another groan of pleasure from Snape. Just the sound itself was more arousing than seemed possible. Filch gently rubbed the swollen head just as Snape liked it and quite openly studied the man. Filch wasn't satisfied though; he wanted to see more skin. He hiked up Snape's robes and shirt and ran his fingers over Snape's taut stomach.
Snape groaned. When he lifted his hips up to thrust into Filch's palm, Filch used the opportunity to pull Snape's trousers and underwear down as low as he could. Then it was easy to pull them off completely and Filch could take delight in the view of Snape's body, naked from his waist down. Filch freed his own eager cock and on second try managed to pull up Snape's legs and rest them upon his shoulders. Filch slowly breached him, which Snape loudly appreciated. It was music to Filch's ears. He pushed in to the hilt and waited a moment before he began thrusting.
Filch held Snape's legs and fucked him with long, hard thrusts. Snape kept muttering incoherently and the only distinguishable word was yes, repeated again and again like some sort of chant. Filch relished the sight of Snape's cock jerking between his thighs.
Snape came first, spilling his seed all over his robes and shirt. The muscles of his arse constricted around Filch like a vice and literally milked him.
"Damn," Filch wheezed when he caught his breath and let Snape's legs fall down.
Snape dizzily sat up and slid off the table to stand on slightly unsteady feet. He pulled his robes down and looked around for his trousers. Filch righted himself and waited for the Potions master to say something.
"Next time, bring some snacks, Filch," Snape muttered, buttoning up his trousers.