Sunday Morning Breakfast Original poster: jadzia7667
A/N - not particularly sexfilled, but Harry is clearly an adult here.
Warnings: food sex, food cliche`, general fluffiness. I rarely write angst; when I do it's really long.
Disclaimer: JKR owns 'em, not me. I just play with 'em quite a bit.
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Hedwig dropped the note in his eggs. He flipped it open, read it quickly, and blushed profusely.
You are driving me insane. Stop eating your eggs that way!
He chanced at look in the sender’s direction and smirked wickedly, observing the flush apparent on the Potions Master’s normally pale olive cheeks. He penned a reply.
What would you like me to eat instead?
He could not fail to hear the strangled gasp when his missive was received and read. He chuckled, a low sexy sound of arousal. He waited for Hedwig to come back, licking his lips in between bites of his scrambled eggs, making low sounds of ecstasy. They were very good eggs, after all. He shot another wicked smirk in the direction of his pen pal.
Hedwig dropped his reply on his head. He grabbed it and read it, again blushing; with arousal rather than embarrassment.
Try a banana, you idiotic child!
Harry snorted. The man thought watching him eat a BANANA was going to ease his ‘problem’? HA! He’d just show that snarky man a thing or two about fruit, he thought with a diabolical smile. He penned a quick reply.
Fine! Just remember, you asked for it.
He stood up and walked to the end of the table, hips rolling seductively. He was loose limbed from a very early Quidditch practice, and utterly desirable. He could feel it in the weight of the other man’s hypnotic gaze. He felt two onyx eyes pinned to his arse, rather like an arrow that had found its bull’s eye. He stopped at the fruit trays, turned, and shot a look of pure sensuality at his pen pal. He made himself a plate; one banana, two ripe strawberries, and a sliced peach. He sauntered back to his seat, sex appeal oozing from every pore. He snickered to himself when he saw the look of absolute concentration on the face of the older man. The world could end and the man would be unable to stop staring at his mouth, he just knew it.
He picked up the banana and began to slowly peel it, humming low in his throat. He worked the peel down slowly, one strand at a time. He tossed it to the side, as one would toss a silk robe to the side before ravishing one’s bedmate. He tilted his head back, parted his rosy lips and suspended the banana a hairsbreadth above his questing mouth. He blew warm breath over the banana and delighted in the answering gasp from his pen pal, who seemed quite unable to make a written response. Slowly, torturously he lowered the banana into his warm wet cavern, sucking it slowly. He pulled it back out, licked it, and slid it back down his throat, making low sounds of lust while he consumed it utterly. Their colleagues were starting to stare. He didn’t care. It was early on Sunday morning and there weren’t many people anyway.
Hedwig dropped another note on his plate.
You’ll pay for that, insolent brat!
He laughed and said clearly, “I certainly hope so.”
The awaited response was nothing more than a strangled moan of frustration. He laughed, a wicked sound reeking of pure sex. Then he picked up a strawberry. He was just about to lick it, when…
The black swirl of robes and need strode swiftly to where he sat. He felt himself being lifted, cradled in strong arms. A kiss was dropped on the top of his head. He settled himself comfortably and turned to lick the juncture between throat and shoulder. Severus almost dropped him at that point.
Severus Snape cleared his throat and looked the Headmaster square in the eye. His voice rasped with passion about to break free when he spoke. “Headmaster, we’ll have to cancel our meeting. Professor Potter and I have…other plans this afternoon.” With that, he carried his young love to their quarters.
Albus twinkled, watching them go. “I love Sunday morning breakfast. Harry never fails to persuade Severus back to their quarters. I hate those damned meetings.”