Title: Dare for a Lion
Author: keyflight790
Characters/Pairings:Neville/Harry/Ron/Dean/Seamus
Rating: NC-17
Kinks/Themes Chosen: Gang Bang, Bukkake
Other Warnings/Content: Infidelity, Thigh Sex, Intercrural sex
Word Count: 3,064
Summary/Description: A Gryffindors Dare turns into something much more
Author's Notes: Thank you so much to my beta @malenkayacherepakha, for all of your hard work on this.


It started as a dare.

As do most things they find themselves doing these days. Searching for that same kind of rush, the risk, the challenge.

They were Gryffindors after all. A dare for a lion is the same as a riddle for a raven.

And yes, a part of it was sick, in the same way that missing the chase, missing the sharp end of the knife that the war brought to their school and their souls was sick and twisted and all too real.

The same way that they hated and now longed for the chase.

“I dare you,” said Seamus, who had been upping the ante the whole evening, asking for things rummaged from Slytherin cupboards and trinkets pickpocketed from professors’ robes.

“And you. Kiss. With tongue, of course, 10 seconds.”

“Not fair,” Ron called out. “Can’t dare two people, only one.”

“Nothing to do with them both being blokes, eh Ronald?” Seamus winked, then shimmied deeper into Dean’s lap. “Good to know.”

“I don’t give a shite who’s snogging who, but I do care about rule followin’”

Harry spat out his pumpkin juice mixed with whiskey (a disgusting combination, but options were limited and at least the bourbon was from Malfoy’s trunk, high quality and very potent). “Since when, Wazlib?”

“Since my lady told me she wants a good boy,” Ron said proudly.

Harry just shook his head while the rest of the room laughed. The last thing he wanted to think about were his best friends and their extracurriculars. He was much more interested in the dare.

“‘t’s not a problem for me, if it’s not for you,” Harry nodded towards the other boy being pulled into Seamus’s double dare.

Neville’s cheeks were flushed, but his smile was stretched wide across his lips. “Ten seconds?” he asked, and Harry wondered if he was nervous.

Frankly, this dare was pretty tame compared to the rest of the evening, and the evenings before. Not nearly as bad as his dare two nights ago to sneak into Hooch’s rooms and steal one of her slip. He’s pretty sure the lacy silk was still in the room somewhere, tucked under someone’s pillow.

Harry nodded, and crawled towards the center of the room. He sat back on his heels and waited patiently for Neville to approach, licking his lips in anticipation.

He’d thought about kissing Neville before. Everyone had. He’d really grown into himself over the past couple of years, and that thing with the snake, well…

Harry had thought about that for sure.

He gave Neville a quick smile before leaning in. Their lips met, softly at first, but then Neville opened his mouth, coaxing, inviting Harry in with his tongue.

He moaned a little when Neville’s hand weaved into his hair, and a part of him thought he should be embarrassed, enjoying this when Neville didn’t really have a choice not to follow the dare, not to kiss him in front of everyone. Not when he wasn’t even sure if he liked Harry, liked blokes, liked any of this.

But if Neville’s hand carding through his locks, drifting down to his neck, his tongue plundering into Harry’s mouth was any indication, he was indeed enjoying their little tryst.

“Ten seconds is up,” Ron interrupted them, knocking his knuckles on the hard floor of their room.
Harry chuckled into Neville’s mouth as he felt hands untangle from his hair.

“Sorry,” Neville winced, then let out a little laugh.

“All good, mate,” Harry smiled cheerily before returning to his seat. Ron gave him a hard elbow to the ribs, but he just cast him a smile and turned back to the room. “Who’s next?”

“Tough one. You both did a dare, but I think it should be Nev’s. Whatcha think, Dean?”

“I think that was hot, and I wouldn’t have made them stop.” Dean threw a dirty glance at Ron. “But technically you pointed at Neville first, so I’d agree, Seamus.”

“Right-o! Neville, you’re up.”

Harry winked at Neville, who was still blushing up a storm. He could feel his own heart beating rapidly, and the adrenaline was starting to feel good pulsing through his veins.

“I dare...Ron, you want to be a good boy, right?”

“I shouldn’t be playing.”

“But you are.”

“But I shouldn’t be.”

“We won’t tell Hermione, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Dean laughed, clapping his hand on Seamus’s thigh and gripping there. “If you don’t want to be good.”

“Just spit out the dare, Neville.”

“Kiss Harry.”

“But you just kissed him.”

“And you interrupted. So he hasn’t been properly snogged.”

Harry turned to Ron. “C’mon buddy, just a little kiss!” he teased.

“You want to kiss me?” Ron asked, but his voice came out small, quiet. A whisper between friends.

“Yeah,” Harry shrugged.

“I just thought-”

“Kiss him already!” Seamus shouted.

Ron frowned, then leaned in and placed a chaste kiss on Harry’s lips.

“There, done, alright? Blimey.”

“You call that a kiss?” Neville shook his head. “Dare not completed. And because you really crapped out of it, I’m going to need to up it.”

“Those aren’t the rules!” Ron whined, nervously glancing at Harry from the corner of his eye.

“Rule officially added,” Seamus cried out. “If you crap on a dare, it gets upped to a double dare. All those in favour, say ‘aye’.”

“Aye!” the boys all agreed, including Harry who nudged Ron with his shoulder.

“Double Dare, Ronald,” Neville continued. “Crawl your arse into Harry’s lap and give him a proper snog.”

“How long is proper, Dare-Captain Neville?” Dean asked, biting back laughter.

“At least a minute, I would think?”

“You think Weaselby can last more than a minute, eh?”

“Hey!” Ron squeaked.

“If you think you can last longer,” Harry laughed, winking at Ron. He tapped his thigh. “Climb on up.”

Ron looked at his hand in his lap, and swallowed. He hesitated until Harry reached out his hand, rubbing his thumb over Ron’s.

“‘t’s okay, just a dare between friends,” Harry murmured. Ron gave him a quick smile before pushing up onto his knees and straddling Harry’s lap.

His arms stayed limp at his sides, but Harry’s wrapped around his waist, pulling him in as he placed his lips to Ron’s. It took a moment, but eventually Ron leaned forward, leaned into the kiss. His hands wrapped around Harry’s neck, and he groaned when Harry’s tongue finally found his own.

Harry could admit to himself that this was nice, not nearly as awkward as he had thought it would be. Maybe it was the mixture of alcohol, the bitter whiskey he could taste on Ron’s tongue as well, or the way it just felt comfortable, having someone who knew him so well holding him in his arms.

Unconsciously, he bit down playfully on Ron’s bottom lip. It was something he used to do with Ginny, a reflex about kissing a Weasley perhaps, and it had always made Ginny moan, a breathless little thing.

Ron’s response was more animalistic. He bucked his hips into Harry’s groin, and for a brief moment Harry could feel his hardened length through the thin fabric of his joggers.

“Uhh,” Harry let out, his hands dropping to Ron’s hips as he pulled him forward once more, harder into his lap.

They both moaned into each other’s mouths as their cocks touched, swiped against each other. His hands cupped the globes of Ron’s arse as he rutted them together again.

Their kiss turned into a heated thing, tongues and bites and moans as Ron and Harry frotted against each other. The rest of the room didn’t exist for a moment, only the two of them and Harry’s lap and the glorious sounds they were making.

Then someone coughed, and Ron stilled as if he’d been petrified. His face turned blotchy red as he pulled himself back off of Harry, eyes darting towards the floor.

“Well, well, well,” Dean said. “Wasn’t that a nice show.”

“Don’t tell Hermione,” Ron said sheepishly.

“This is a safe space,” Neville agreed. “Your dare, Ron.”

“I-I dunno, mate.” Ron’s face was still cherry red, and Harry’s eyes darted to his bulge outlined by a thin layer of fabric. His heart was pounding from the snogging and the rutting, the dares and the heat of the room. Everyone watching him, and each other, and how safe he felt at that moment. Like he could do, have, anything he wanted.

“Dare me,” he said.

“Dare you to what?” Ron asked, his voice heavy with trepidation and hunger. Harry knew that voice all too well, had heard that same nervousness when they were starving in a tent and constructing plans.

“Suck you,” Harry said, and he was surprised at how sure his own voice sounded. His eyes dropped to Ron’s lap and he licked his lips. “I want to.”

“Suck me?”

“Dare accepted,” Harry chuckled. His hands found Ron’s hips, tugging at the hem of his shirt.

“Really?” Seamus interjected, but Dean placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Really,” Dean nodded, his eyes glued to Harry and Ron and the hand that was slipping down Ron’s joggers. He bit his bottom lip and leaned into Seamus as they watched.

Harry’s hand wrapped around Ron’s cock, and he heard his best friend’s breath hitch at the touch. He was finally getting to do this, at all, with a bloke, with Ron, and Harry could hardly wait.

His other hand pulled at the seam of the joggers, inching them further down Ron’s thighs until his length was released with an inviting bob. Harry grinned, licking his lips once more before opening his mouth and wrapping them around the tip of Ron’s cock.

The entire room let out a collective moan as Harry sucked Ron, starting at the tip and slowly bobbing his head further and further down. His cheeks hollowed as he breathed, pulling the hot hardness deeper into his mouth.

Harry tried a few things, twisting his tongue a certain way, adding in a tight ring around the base of Ron’s cock with his finger and thumb. He listened to the hitches and sighs escaping Ron’s mouth, and he had to admit it was hot, listening, being the source of that pleasure.

He felt a hand in his hair, but a quick scan of the floor told him that Ron’s hands were still at his sides, grasping into fists as Harry continued to fuck him with his mouth.

“You’re doing so well,” he heard Neville say, closer than he had been before, and Harry surmised that it was Neville’s hands carding through his hair, tugging slightly as Harry moved up and down Ron’s length. He heard the sounds of a belt clanking, falling to the floor. “So hot watching you two.”

Harry moaned around the cock in his mouth, taking Ron deeper as the praise warmed his cheeks. The tip hit the back of his throat and he gagged, coughing as he withdrew his mouth from Ron.

Harry sat up, trying to catch his breath, tilting his head back into Neville’s soothing caress. His eyes found Ron’s, pupils blown and lip bitten so hard he could see the little indentations of his teeth.

He threw Ron a smile that he hoped looked slightly sexy, and then turned to survey the other people in the room.

Neville was close to his right hip, one hand in his hair and the other one around his own cock. It seemed he was enjoying the show, his length hard, and a pearl of precome on the tip. Harry leaned in and without thinking, licked it off with the tip of his tongue.

“That’s a good boy,” Neville hummed, tugging slightly on Harry’s hair. “Do you want to hold it?”

Harry nodded, faster that he supposed he should. Neville grabbed his wand and cast an ounce of lube on to Harry’s outstretched hand. He then took Harry’s wrist, directing it to his waiting cock, and swallowed when Harry’s hand finally replaced his own.

Neville’s cock was wider, longer than Ron’s, and Harry wondered for a moment how it would feel in his mouth. If he’d be able to stretch his lips wide enough to fit, if it would hit the back of his throat. If he’d choke on it, gag, have his eyes water and his heart race and his stomach clench as he struggled to breathe.

He began to pull along Neville’s length, adding in a twist at the end that always made his own toes curl. Neville braced a hand on Harry’s shoulder, giving it a little squeeze as his other hand continued to pet and pull through Harry’s hair.

He felt a little bit of pressure on the back of his skull, a gentle reminder from Neville to return to his previous ministrations, and Harry gave Ron a quick wink before spreading his lips and delving back in to licking and sucking his cock.

“Yes, Harry,” Neville praised, and Harry felt him push his cock into his palm. Harry continued to slide his grip along Neville’s length as his tongue teased and licked and sucked down Ron’s cock.

It felt amazing, a cock in his hand and one in his mouth, and he had a fleeting thought about what it would be like to be filled more. To have another cock in his other hand, another one rutting against his hip, another fucking into his hole.

It was a fantasy he held in the back of his mind, only allowing it out in the dead of night, when the room was filled with deep breaths and snores. Boys with red hair, and brown, and one time, the whitest blond, a glimmer of silver eyes and a sodding smirk. Taken and used and so utterly filled that he couldn’t move, helpless to hands and hips and cocks.

Ron’s moans were louder, his hands clamped now on Harry’s shoulders, his length juttering upwards into Harry’s willing mouth. He was close; Harry recognized the sounds from the few times he’d heard Ron jerk himself to sleep, from the one time he’d heard him with Hermione in the tent. But Harry wasn’t ready for this to end. His own cock was still tucked in his trousers, his shirt still on his back. He pulled off Ron with a jerk, and Neville’s hands fell from his hair.

“You okay, Harry?” Dean asked, and Harry hadn’t even heard them approach. When he glanced up, he saw Seamus, naked, his cock stuffed into Dean’s hands, his head leaned back on Dean’s shoulders. He could barely make out the tip of Dean’s cock peeking out from between Seamus’s thighs.

“Just,” he started to say, but his voice suddenly seemed so loud, the room so hot. He ripped his shirt from his shoulders and stood, working on his own belt loops, letting his trousers and pants hit the floor in a heap.

“Much better,” he laughed, and settled back on his knees. One hand went to his own hardened length, red at the tip and begging to be touched. He sighed, letting his head drop back as he pulled along his length.

“You look so pretty like that,” Neville said. “Want to make you filthy.”

“So do it, Nev,” Harry grinned. He pulled off his glasses and tossed them to the side. “Fucking do it.”

“Open your mouth, tongue out,” Neville commanded, and then he straddled Harry, his cock pointed towards Harry’s face. Neville’s hand was moving rapidly along his cock, pulling and twisting and driving himself closer and closer to the edge.

Ron moaned, then stood, his cock red and pulsing in his hand. He began to jerk his wrist, up and down, the tip of his cock pointed at Harry’s chest.

“Oh gods,” Ron let out, leaning forward, the muscles in his arm flexing in and out.

Harry glanced to his left, to Seamus and Dean. Dark hands were wrapped around a thin, freckled cock that was now pointed directly at Harry as Seamus keened, his hips thrusting into Dean’s grip.

He was trembling, his cock desperate for release, his hand barely a blur. He watched, wide-eyed and breathless, mouth open and back arched, as one by one, his friends spurted ropes and ropes of come all over his bare skin.

It felt heavenly, warm and wet and sticky, like he had been drowning and he could finally breathe again. Like he was free.

Harry trailed his fingers through the ropes of come that painted his chest, his neck, and his other hand gripped firmly on his length. His balls tightened, he gasped, and he felt all eyes on him as he finally allowed himself to tip over the edge.

His climax rung through him, sating him, releasing him, engulfing him, and when he finally breathed, he laughed.

Harry’s laugh filled the room, echoing across Ron’s blushed face, Neville’s calm smile. Dean and Seamus were turned towards each other, snogging slowly, hands wrapped around each other’s waist.

“Well, that was fun,” Dean said, breaking apart from Seamus’s lips when Harry’s laugh went quiet.

“Indeed,” Neville answered, pulling his joggers around his hips and pulling the string taut. “Might have to play again tomorrow. Put this good boy in the middle instead,” he added, tapping Ron’s shoulder with his knuckle.

“Plans with Hermione tomorrow,” Ron said, rubbing the back of his neck. “But maybe.”

“I’m knackered,” Seamus interjected. “Dean, ready for bed?”

Harry watched as the boys around him settled into their sheets, smiling, happy. He hoped they’d be able to do this again, maybe without a dare, maybe with Harry on his knees. Maybe with another house, another set of boys, another boy in particular. He wrapped a towel around his hips, and headed off to the loo.

It was late, and the halls were silent, except for padding of another set of feet headed in his direction. He paused outside the door to the showers, waiting in the darkness, wishing for a brief moment that he had brought his wand.

And then a blond boy appeared, pale chest, green towel hanging low on his waist. Harry thought for a brief moment to try and cover the white, sticky, noticeable substance that still ran down his front, but instead he stood there, arms hanging by his sides.

“Hey Malfoy, you busy tomorrow?”