drapery_mods (drapery_mods) wrote in drapery_snarco, @ 2009-03-09 17:21:00 |
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Current mood: | calm |
Fic: Roundabout
Title: Roundabout
Author: torino10154
Pairing: Harry/Draco, Severus/Harry/Draco
Length: ~5500
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: These characters are not mine. They belong to JKR.
Warnings: Non-magical AR, oral, anal, rimming
Prompt: 9. "Chase down your passion like it's the last bus of the night." --Glade Byron Addams
Summary: When Harry meets another man, Draco decides to go along for the ride.
Author Notes: Huge thanks to my betas: magic_helmet for planting the seed, gryffindorj for watering and weeding, drachenmina and suntzu_s for pruning and cutting, and jadzialove for the final arrangement. I couldn't have done it without you. Any mistakes that remain are my own.
Harry pulled his coat around him, collar turned up against the wind. He realised as he stepped out into the rain that he'd forgotten his umbrella, again. His bag over his shoulder, he hurried along the lamp lit pavement toward the bus stop. His evening class concluded eight minutes before the last bus of the night and he needed to walk quickly if he was to catch it.
Nearly breathless, he reached the kerb just as the #75 rounded the corner. Pulling his bus pass from his pocket, he flashed it at the driver before taking the seat nearest the exit.
Like all the other nights that Harry rode the bus home, a man—looking to be in his early forties—sat near the back of the bus. His nose was always buried in a book. Black hair, peppered with white, hung lank around his face, rectangular spectacles perched on the end of his rather large nose.
Harry himself always feared falling asleep during the thirty-minute ride home and sometimes wondered whether the bloke had actually fallen asleep. However, three stops before Harry's, the man always pressed the button for his stop and exited the bus.
Used to Uni students out at all hours, Harry was intrigued by this man riding home so late. He didn't think he was a lecturer, although he didn't know every single one. The man was never dressed like a normal professor; they didn't usually wear black from head to foot.
Hopping off the bus, Harry walked the two streets to the flat he shared with his friend from school, Draco Malfoy. He supposed they were boyfriends. Harry knew these sorts of arrangements tended to fall apart and he'd tried to keep himself from caring too much for the blond. He knew he'd only get hurt in the end. Especially if he let on how much he'd come to enjoy Draco's presence in his life.
They hadn't got on well until their last year of secondary school when they’d realised they both wanted to go into the same field: forensic criminology.
Putting the key in the lock, he opened the door to the dark flat. He shut and bolted the door, throwing his bag down on the floor next to the coat rack. Yawning, he wandered into the kitchen and found a note on the table.
"Early class tomorrow. Cottage pie in the oven. –D"
Harry pulled the warm dish from the oven and spooned himself a small portion. It was too late to fill up on something so heavy, but he couldn't resist a little. He assumed Draco's mother had dropped it by. She had a cook and tended to spoil Draco at least once a week with one of his favourite dishes. If left to their own devices they ate a lot of beans on toast, spag bol, and Pot Noodles.
~*~
After a particularly stressful exam and the accompanying exhaustion that came with studying late for the past several nights, Harry clambered onto the bus, fortunate not to trip and fall flat on his face.
"Watch yourself," a rich, deep voice chided. A shiver ran down Harry's spine at the sound. He looked up and saw the man he had been watching for the last few weeks. Despite the blush he could feel on his cheeks, Harry took the opportunity to take the seat right in front of him.
"Thanks. Up late studying last night. I'm dead on my feet," Harry said craning his neck around to get a good look at this man up close: dark eyes, crow's feet, a semi-permanent scowl. Not exactly a looker, Harry thought unkindly, but intriguing nevertheless. "Harry Potter. You always ride the bus when I do so I thought I should introduce myself," he said putting his hand out. He normally wouldn't have been so forward, as he didn't normally go around introducing himself to the average bloke on the bus. Harry felt almost compelled to do it.
The man's eyes narrowed behind his spectacles. He seemed to be trying to gauge Harry's intentions. Finally he nodded almost imperceptibly and shook Harry's hand once, before pulling his hand away.
"Severus Snape."
Harry remembered the warmth of his grasp long after his hand grew cold.
~*~
Harry tried to strike up a conversation with Snape every time he rode the bus, but most days he was met with a muttered, "Good evening", a glower, and then the top of the man's head as he put his nose back into his book. Harry was persistent if nothing else, and could always wear through even the thickest of hides.
"Got a family, Mr. Snape?" Harry asked the first week of December. Harry was quite happy to be spending the Christmas hols with Draco and not with his aunt and uncle.
"Happily, no," Snape grunted.
"Oh, your family must have been a lot like mine. Not very pleasant at all," Harry replied without emotion. He'd accepted his treatment as a boy; the blame lay squarely with his aunt and uncle rather than through some fault of his own.
"I grew up with my aunt and uncle. They were stuck with me after my parents were killed. You remember the Brighton Bombing in 1984?" Harry had slivers of memory of his parents, as he'd been four when they were killed, but the older he became the more they faded away.
"I see." Snape turned away. Conversation over.
~*~
"What is it you are studying, Mr. Potter?" Snape asked one day, shocking Harry speechless.
"What?" Harry said pushing his glasses up on his nose.
"What career do you aspire to?" the man enunciated slowly.
"Um, yeah, I'm going into the police force like my dad. I'm hoping to work for Scotland Yard one day, but first I need to take a shed-load of science and maths. Somehow I didn't realise how important it would be. My mum was an outstanding chemist. Worked for the government I think. Must have been sort of hush-hush, as my aunt won't tell me a thing about it.
"I'm not sure I'm cut out for it really. But my--er--my boyfriend is studying the same thing, and we just always figured we'd study together, get good jobs. What's a bloke like me gonna do otherwise? Don't have any connections or anything. Just the money my parents left for me to go to university." Harry realised he'd sort of rambled off topic and was embarrassed he'd brought Draco into it. He wasn't planning on outing himself, although Snape hadn't even blinked.
"Have you considered finding a course of studies you enjoy? I've watched you, Mr. Potter. You are miserable. Do you think it will get better once you're stuck in a job you despise?" Snape's expression was fierce. Clearly he spoke from personal experience.
"What should I do?" Harry asked him, eyes wide.
"Do what you love, Potter, and never settle for anything less." He stood and pressed the button for his stop, the doors opening before Harry had a chance to respond.
~*~
"Let me give you a hand with those, Snape," Harry said standing to help Snape with several unwieldy parcels.
"That is unnecessary. I managed to get them from my office onto the bus," Snape replied as one of the boxes toppled out of the open door. Harry hopped off the bus and picked it up.
"Really, it's no trouble at all. I don't live that far away," Harry said, which wasn't quite true, but he thrilled at the idea of walking the man home.
Snape glared at him even as Harry held his parcel. Finally, as if making up his mind about something, he nodded and strode down the pavement, his back to Harry. Harry was nearly the same height, but Snape's stride was longer; Harry hurried to catch up.
"Lived here long?" he asked as they approached a two up two down that didn't look much better than most of the Uni halls of residence.
"Long enough that the neighbours don't bother me," Snape replied cryptically as he turned the key and opened the door. He walked into the house and Harry stepped inside to leave the parcel. Snape had only gone in far enough to set his parcels down and when he turned back around, they nearly crashed into each other. Suddenly they were toe to toe, and Harry looked into the man's dark eyes seeing something extraordinary there. His heart hammered in his chest, and before he gave himself time to think, he leaned forward and pressed his lips to Snape's.
Who didn't react at all—neither pushing him away nor kissing him back. Harry pulled away and looked into those eyes again, only now they seemed closed, shuttered against him.
"You should leave, Mr. Potter," Snape said in a voice that brooked no argument, his outstretched arm indicating the open door.
"I—" Harry started.
"Go. Now."
"Yes, of course. See you Thursday." Harry walked out the door, turning to watch it close. Snape didn't come out from behind it.