springsmutfairy (springsmutfairy) wrote in hp_springsmut, @ 2008-03-20 07:50:00 |
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Entry tags: | blaise/zacharias, fic, het, justin/susan, slash |
Happy Springsmut, sake1_1!
Author: hecticity
Recipient: sake1_1
Title: Sarcasm and Cigarettes
Rating: NC-17
Pairing(s): Blaise/Zacharias, Justin/Susan (as a side pairing)
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters herein are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended.
Summary: Zacharias was such a secretive person that he did not come out to his friends. Luckily, they knew him so well that they came out for him.
Warnings: (more like requested kinks ;)) PWP, slash, club scene, crossdressing, dominance, banter, voyeurism, leather, masturbation, foreplay, smoking (cigarettes), a bit of het
Word count: ~2700
Author's note: this is the most smutty, slashy fic I have written in a LONG while. You didn't ask for a club scene, but it was the only way I could think to fit a number of your kinks into the same fic. Hope you like it, sake1_1!
Zacharias was such a secretive person that he did not come out to his friends. Luckily, they knew him so well that they came out for him.
"I heard about a new club opening up on Diagon Alley," Justin interjected into the conversation one morning, rather smoothly. So smoothly, in fact, that Zacharias did not see the baited hook until it had sunk deep into his skin.
"Mm," he grunted noncommittally, not looking up.
Justin had chosen the perfect time to strike. Every morning at nine o'clock, without fail, Zacharias could be found sitting at the table in their flat with a cup of coffee and the morning's copy of the Daily Prophet. At this time, Justin could get him to agree to almost anything, simply by asking him questions - he was so engrossed in what he was doing that he did not bother to pay attention to the conversation, but simply added yeses and nos where he felt they were needed.
"Susan and I are going on Friday," Justin added. He settled down across the table from Zacharias with his breakfast (where Zacharias skimped on the actual food part of breakfast, Justin went all out: eggs, bacon, and biscuits with loads of jam) and waited for a reply, but he did not even get so much as a grunt this time. "You'll come with us, won't you?"
"Uh huh," Zacharias said absently, lifting his coffee cup to his lips.
"Brilliant," said Justin. He dug into his food.
It was a long moment before Zacharias set down the paper and slid it across the table to Justin, who nodded his thanks and opened it to the sports section. Occasionally, Zacharias made a biting remark about this, but most of the time he had not had quite enough coffee to come up with something suitably sarcastic. Today he just shrugged and drank his burnt beans.
Then, suddenly, there was only sludge at the bottom of his cup. Zacharias stared at it, disgusted, and wondered why he kept drinking this stuff.
"So," he said, now that he felt vaguely capable of conversation, "What are your plans for this weekend?"
Justin merely smiled.
When he finally found out about the club, Zacharias was not pleased. "I don't dance," he insisted to anyone that would listen. "You don't want me to dance."
Susan grinned at him. "Of course we do, Zach," she said, "We--"
"Zacharias," he cut across her with a growl of annoyance. Normally he didn't make such a big deal of the nickname, though he didn't particularly like it; he saved that minor piece of ammunition from a time when he wanted them to know exactly how annoyed he was.
"And no," he finished. "You don't."
Justin shook his head, grinning in a mischievous way that Zacharias did not particularly like. "You already agreed," he said. "I asked you on Wednesday."
The glare that he received for this statement might have quailed a man of weaker stuff, but Justin had years of experience with Zacharias' glares.
"You didn't," Zacharias said, with an awfully churlish sulk.
Justin just smiled at him benignly. Zacharias glared back for a few moments, then leaned back against the couch with a sigh and propped his feet up on the couch.
"Fine," he said, "But I'm going to hate it."
Susan and Justin shared a victorious glance.
The club, when they got there, was Zacharias' worst nightmare. The lighting was vaguely tasteful, as if they were trying to give the place a bit of class, and it wasn't quite as sleazy as he'd imagined, though he spotted a few wandering hands. All in all, there was annoyingly little to complain about, and Zacharias disliked it immediately.
"You beat me!" a cheerful voice exclaimed from behind him. Zacharias and Justin turned to see Susan, though Zacharias barely recognised her at first.
"Susan?" he asked in disbelief. "What are you wearing?"
She stuck her tongue out at him. "A suit. And I like it, so don't be mean."
Zacharias tried to think of why she would be wearing a suit, and failed. "Why?"
To his disgust, Susan placed a less than chaste kiss directly on Justin's mouth. "I have to make sure none of the hotties here get their hands on my bloke here," she said flirtatiously, giving Justin's arse a little squeeze. "You know how much I hate competition."
Justin was grinning, but he turned a bit pink when Zacharias looked at him in disbelief.
"What?" he asked, a little bit belligerent though he had not yet had anything to drink.
Zacharias had no answer for him. He turned to glare mulishly at the dancers, and he was still sulking so much that it took him a good two minutes to realise what exactly he was staring at.
Men. All men. Kissing and groping and dancing with other men.
"Hey!" he began loudly, turning back to his friends, but they had disappeared. In their place was a tall, elegantly - and sparsely - dressed man, and he was smiling at Zacharias.
All of Zacharias' protests stopped in his throat. Zabini.
"Well, hey," Zabini said. One corner of his mouth twitched up into a smile. "Would you like a drink?"
Zacharias stared at him for a moment. His mouth tried to form words, but it didn't work.
Zabini's smile only widened, as if he was used to inspiring this sort of reaction in people. "Suppose not, then. A dance?"
"Drink," Zacharias finally managed to say. "I definitely need a drink."
Zacharias' friends did not come to save him. The one time he managed to catch Justin's eye, his friend simply winked and waved him on; Susan ignored him altogether.
He was going to kill them. If he got out of this in one piece - not likely, judging by the shit-eating grin on Zabini's face - he was going to kill them.
He focussed on what he was going to do to them instead of noticing how much he was enjoying the dance - which was quite a lot, really. Or at least, he tried. It might have worked if Zabini hadn't kept talking to him.
"So what's a nice, heterosexual Hufflepuff like you doing here?" he asked first, smirking. His hands were on Zacharias' arse.
"My friends," Zacharias grumbled, trying to ignore the way his own hands were resting on Zabini's hips. Leather-clad hips, no less, he realised with a start. Not bad.
He heard a small chuckle, and flushed. That last part had somehow managed to slip past the filter between his mind and his mouth, which was usually very functional. "You slipped something into my drink," he accused.
Zabini simply rolled his eyes. "Right. You're not a willing participant in this at all."
Zacharias had no answer for that. He could run away, certainly - so why wasn't he? In fact, when he took stock of himself - vaguely, but with rising horror - he noticed that his mouth was only inches away from Zabini's without any encouragement at all, and he seemed to be pressing himself eagerly against the other man - a fact he could not blame on Zabini, whose hands were more groping than grabbing. This distinction was very important to Zacharias' alcohol-and-lust drenched mind.
"Listen," he heard himself saying, as if from far away. "This is unseemly. Shouldn't we be doing this somewhere... somewhere..."
But he stopped, because his mouth had betrayed him again. Damn it.
"More private?" Zabini asked, amused. He leaned in closer to Zacharias' ear, breath hot against his skin. "But everyone is enjoying the show."
Horrified, Zacharias looked around. Zabini was right, almost everyone in the club was staring at them. This time when he spotted his friends, they were both grinning at him, and Susan gave him a thumbs up.
Zacharias scoffed and pulled back, his head clearing a bit once he was farther from Zabini. "I need a cigarette," he grumbled, meeting the other man's dark eyes for the briefest of moments. He thought he saw Zabini smile before he looked away.
But when Zacharias finally managed to escape the crowd on the dance floor, he found himself not outside but in the bathroom. Luckily he was alone, on his own with his box of cigarettes and a raging hard-on that he did his very best to ignore. Leaning against one of the bathroom walls, he lit up and inhaled deeply, tilting his head up as he exhaled and watched the smoke rise to the ceiling.
Zabini wasn't bad looking, he had to admit to himself. If he was going to have a one night drunken stand with someone, it might well be him. Too bad that ship had sailed, but at least he had fantasy fodder to hold him over for a while.
His mind chose that moment to conjure an image of Zabini, the way he had looked when he'd first approached Zacharias. Because he hadn't been drunk at the time, Zacharias could clearly see the deep green silk shirt he'd been wearing, and the way it set off his eyes. And those dragonhide trousers... well, they were barely trousers at all, they fit him like skin.
"Starting without me?" an amused voice asked. Zacharias started, his hand jerking away from his groin. Almost instantly he wished he'd left it there, so that his aroused state wasn't so obvious.
He nearly choked on his cigarette. The next moment he didn't have to worry about it, because Zabini had taken two steps closer and plucked it out of his mouth. He crushed it against the wall and then tossed it into the trash, leaving Zacharias to wonder for a moment if it would set the whole building on fire.
Which, oddly, reminded him of Zabini's first name.
"Blaise--" he managed, but then he couldn't talk, because Blaise's mouth was covering his. And even more surprisingly, he really, really liked it. Blaise tasted like spice, which might have been food or his choice in alcoholic drinks.
He lost track of time as Blaise ground against him. Zacharias had felt warm already from the amount of Ogden's he'd consumed, but the heat between them was incredible; he could feel muscles through the smooth silk of Blaise's shirt and a distinct bulge in his tight trousers. Blaise's hands were warm as they pinned him against the bathroom wall, disguising the subtle aggression by running over his chest.
Zacharias melted almost instantly. It had been a long time since he'd done anything remotely like this, and he'd nearly forgotten how good it could be. When Blaise's hands found the fastenings of his trousers, he made a slightly embarrassing noise, and Blaise pulled back.
"C'mon," he said, in a deep voice that brooked no argument. "Let's do this properly."
Zacharias was still boggling at Blaise's ability to speak after that kiss -- and slightly annoyed about it, too -- when he was dragged into a stall and pressed against the wall, his partially covered chest pressing against the cool tile. He heard the door lock, and then Blaise's hands were on him again, comforting and warm, pulling his trousers down and running back up his legs.
The care with which Blaise prepared him made Zacharias both irritable and incredibly aroused. The sensation washed over him in waves -- anticipation, longing to be taken properly, and annoyance at himself for being so easily seduced. He tried to contain himself, biting his lip to stay quiet, but every time Blaise's fingertips brushed a certain place inside him, a little gasp made it past his lips and his body quivered.
Finally, Blaise pulled his fingers back, still sticky with lube. His mouth brushed briefly over Zacharias' spine as he stood, eliciting a soft sound from the other man, and he braced himself with one arm on the tile as he entered him.
It was so slow that Zacharias felt every inch of him. He tensed at first, then melted when a strong hand wrapped around his cock, head falling forward as Blaise's breath ghosted over the back of his neck. He found himself pressing back, tortured by the slow movement, almost wanting the pain so that he wouldn't enjoy it quite so much.
With a soft laugh that echoed in his ear, Blaise complied, finding an even rhythm that had them both breathing hard in moments. In a desperate attempt not to be the only one falling apart, Zacharias clenched down around the hard cock inside him, and was rewarded by a groan. Blaise sped up, making Zacharias arch into the wall, his spine curving against his will.
"Fuck," Zacharias cursed, "Oh, shi--"
And then he was coming hard, semen coating Blaise's hand and the bathroom wall. He felt Blaise shudder behind him, and then he was being filled with a different kind of warmth. Zacharias relaxed tiredly against the wall, his breath coming in gasps.
It was Blaise that cleaned them both up, flicking his wand in the direction of the wall and Zacharias' arse. Zacharias refused to let him pull his trousers back up, and did them up himself, tugging his shirt down with clumsy hands. He avoided Blaise's eyes for a moment, and then looked up to find him smiling.
Zacharias stared at him for a moment, hoping he wasn't going to get awfully mushy and try to kiss him again, but the man who had shagged him with such precision was apparently not the type. Thank Merlin and his frilly knickers.
"Light?" Zacharias asked finally, offering Blaise a cigarette. It was accepted, and Zacharias was hard put not to stare as dark lips closed around the white paper of it, belatedly remembering to lift his hand to light it for him.
Blaise took a drag, blew the smoke off to his left, and looked at Zacharias again. One corner of his mouth quirked up into a smile.
"Thanks," he said, voice rough. "Maybe I'll see you around."
"So," Susan said later, when they were back at Justin and Zacharias' apartment. "How was it?"
Zacharias looked at her blankly. She was still wearing her suit, though her slicked back hair had grown mussy, and he still thought she looked ridiculous in drag. Justin didn't seem to think so, however.
"You were gone for almost an hour!" she pressed. "You must have been doing something."
"I took a cigarette break," Zacharias grumbled, turning his back on her to get a glass of water. He could feel a hangover starting already -- or maybe that was Susan's nagging.
"Leave him alone, Su," Justin broke in. Zacharias heard a little hmmph sound, which was cut off abruptly, and he turned around to find them snogging.
Clapping a hand over his eyes, Zacharias tried to wipe that image out of his head. "Get a room!" he said in annoyance, his ire only getting worse when Susan started to laugh.
"So you're allowed to shag in a bathroom, but we can't shag in the kitchen?" she teased, forcing Zacharias to uncover his eyes in order to glare at her. "Fine, fine. We're going."
"Silencing Charms!" Zacharias yelled after them, and then he was alone in the kitchen. He sighed and relaxed against the counter, closing his eyes as he let the reality of the night settle in.
It hadn't been bad, not really. Zabini was attractive, and a good shag; the way Zacharias' mind conjured up an image of his mouth as he smoked told him that he might well have a bit of a thing for the bloke. But that wasn't necessarily a bad thing.
He recalled the club, the less than garish lighting, and the relatively good taste in dress of the club's patrons. It really hadn't been that bad of a place, if Zacharias was perfectly honest.
But he certainly wasn't going to tell Justin and Susan that. Next time he was going alone.