Title: A Worthwhile Hobby
Author: alisanne
Characters: Severus Snape/Harry Potter
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: None
Themes/kinks chosen: Happy SEVENTH birthday, daily_deviant! This fic is inspired by the new DD banner.
Word Count: ~1400
Summary: Harry adopts a new hobby.
Author's notes: I think the rationale behind this story is pretty obvious, but just in case it isn't... I thought Severus looked like he could use some fun since he's the only one clothed (and hiding behind the newspaper) in the banner, so I gave him some. ;)
Thanks to lilyseyes for looking this over for me. ♥
Disclaimer: The characters contained herein are not mine. No money is being made from this fiction, which is presented for entertainment purposes only.


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A Worthwhile Hobby

~

Harry has long thought that Severus should give up reading the Prophet. After all, the press has never been kind to either of them, and the articles generally upset Severus to the point where he spends most mornings and sometimes entire weekends swearing at it. It’s become his new hobby. That’s when he’s not brooding and plotting revenge, Harry thinks as he watches Severus shake the pages emphatically and mumble imprecations under his breath. “Why do you even read that garbage?” he finally asks.

“It’s best to know the direction of public opinion,” says Severus, his standard response. “I’d rather not be surprised by a mob at the door. Say what you will about Skeeter, but she does know every rumour out there.”

“That’s because she starts them,” Harry retorts. “And reading it always puts you in a bad mood.”

Flipping down the top of the Prophet, Severus glares at Harry. “Of course it does! Have you read this drivel? It would put you in a bad mood, too.”

Leaning against the door, Harry smiles. “Which is why I never read it.”

Huffing, Severus returns to his perusal of the paper. “Some of us cannot afford that luxury.”

“Sure you can. You don’t really care about public opinion, do you?”

Severus snorts from behind his paper. “When one’s lover is two decades younger and has been hailed as the saviour of the wizarding world, one becomes very concerned with the public’s opinion.”

Harry’s eyes narrow. “Well I don’t care about anyone’s opinion but yours.” Pulling his wand, he waves it at the wireless. A moment later a sultry tune begins playing. He grins. Perfect.

“What do you think you’re--?” Severus’ eyes widen as he takes in what Harry’s doing. “Harry?”

Shrugging his robes off his shoulders, Harry gyrates his hips in time to the music. “Yes?”

Severus sounds choked. “What are you doing?”

Harry waves his arms in what he hopes is an alluring way. “Dancing of course.”

“I see.” Severus’ gaze seems riveted on Harry’s hips. “And why exactly are you dancing?”

Harry smiles. “To distract you.” He moves closer, untucking his shirt from his trousers and as he slowly unbuttons it. “Is it working?”

Severus licks his lips. “That depends on what sort of dance you’re planning to do.”

“What sort of dance would you like?” Harry asks, pleased to see the Prophet fall from Severus’ fingers and onto his lap.

Severus raises an eyebrow. “This is your idea,” he says. “Shouldn’t you know what you’re going to do?”

Harry’s smile widens. “So I should,” he agrees. Banishing the rest of his clothes, he uses his wand to transfigure the chair into a chaise lounge and straddles Severus, settling on his lap and crushing the newspaper. “How about a lap dance?”

“I suppose I could be persuaded,” murmurs Severus, his hand settling on Harry’s hips.

Rolling his hips, Harry rocks against Severus, smiling when he feels the bulge of Severus’ erection. “It feels like you’re pretty enthusiastic, actually,” he says, wriggling rhythmically. In the background the music changes tempo and Harry adjusts, his movements going slower, more languorous. As Severus leans up, attempting to kiss him, however, Harry shifts back. “You can’t kiss your lap dancer,” he whispers. “Against the rules.”

“Tease,” Severus says softly, his fingers tightening on Harry’s bum.

“Not teasing,” Harry reassures him. Leaning in, he whispers, “You’re the one who taught me to take my time and savour the moment, remember?” Running his nose along Severus’ jaw, he writhes, smiling as he hears Severus’ moan. “I’m just putting my lessons to good use.”

Severus’ mouth is open and he’s nipping at Harry’s chest. “Are you going to ride me?” he growls.

The very thought makes Harry tremble. “Merlin, yes.” They both start to fumble with Severus’ clothes, Harry’s hands shaking. Somehow they manage to undo Severus’ trousers and Harry shifts long enough to pull Severus’ cock out, then, lifting up, he whispers his favourite stretching and lubrication spells.

“What happened to taking our time?” Severus murmurs as he helps Harry position his cock. “I love watching you stretch yourself.”

“Maybe I...need more...lessons,” Harry murmurs, a sigh escaping him as he starts to sit down. “God.” In this position he takes Severus deep, and his breath catches at the way Severus’ cock is opening him so very slowly. The burn helps to steady him.

Severus is focussed on him, his gaze flicking up and down between Harry’s face and body. “Gorgeous,” he whispers, one hand coming up to smooth over Harry’s chest and stomach.

Swallowing hard, Harry continues to move slowly, lifting up to allow part of Severus’ cock so slip out before sitting down again. Each time he moves down he takes Severus a bit deeper and it’s shocking to Harry how very intimate this position is. “You feel--”

“Incredible,” Severus finishes for him, his face flushed. He tries to arch up and drive into Harry, but because of the position can’t move very much. Still, it’s enough to slide is cock against Harry’s prostate and a moan slips from Harry’s throat.

Rotating his hips, Harry starts to move faster, whimpering as sensation spirals through him. “I can’t--I have to--”

Severus clearly understands. Grasping Harry’s hips, he leans up, shifting them both until Harry is on his back, Severus looming over him. Hs cock presses deep and, growling, he begins to thrust.

Harry’s knees are driven into his chest but he doesn’t care. Severus’ eyes are blazing, his attention focussed solely on Harry. His intensity has always been one of Harry’s favourite things about him, and never more so than when they make love. Reaching up, Harry drags him down for a kiss, bucking up as Severus’ thrusts grow more erratic.

Severus pulls away, and, burying his face in Harry’s neck, slams twice more into him before coming, his body shuddering.

Harry’s trembling on the edge of coming, his prick throbbing between them. Shifting, he tries to reach for it, but Severus is there first, his hand curling around Harry’s cock.

Pressing kisses to Harry’s neck, Severus strokes him.

Harry gasps. “I’m going to--”

“Good,” purrs Severus, raising his head. “Come now.”

Harry does, arching his back as his cock pulses in Severus’ hand and shoots warm come onto their stomachs. Once he’s stopped trembling, Severus leans in, capturing his mouth in a slow, sensual kiss.

Drawing back, he smiles. “Just like you to make me do all the work,” he whispers.

Harry laughs. “All the work?” He raises an eyebrow, a move he knows annoys Severus since he stole it from him. “Did you forget the lap dance?”

“Hm. There seemed to be less dancing and more seduction.” Severus shifts onto his back, tucking Harry into his side. “Still, as a distraction technique, it was...moderately effective.”

“Only moderately?” Harry huffs. “Am I going to have to cancel your subscription to the Prophet?”

“That won’t be necessary. I believe I’m feeling better about today’s edition.” Severus smirks, pulling something out from underneath him. He holds it up and Harry sees it’s the Prophet that he’d been reading earlier. It’s crumpled, stained with come, with Skeeter’s column front and centre. In it she’s asking how Harry Potter could ever take up with a Death Eater. Her picture’s also there and in it she’s cringing in the very corner of the photo, clearly trying to avoid the come seeping across the page. When she sees Harry’s grinning face, she shakes her fist.

Harry sniggers. “I see what you mean.” Leaning forward, he says clearly at the paper, “Now do you see why I’m with him?”

Severus coughs. “If you’re done traumatising the press, shall we retire to bed?” he murmurs, dropping the soiled newspaper and sitting up. “There’s still time for you to give me a proper lap dance.”

Harry allows himself to be helped to his feet, and as he and Severus wander towards their bedroom, he glances back at the discarded Prophet and smirks. Traumatising the press sounds like the perfect hobby to him.

~