Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

By Consensus	By : Thanfiction Category: Harry Potter > General > General Views: 5693 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-By Consensus
- 1
Title: By Consensus
Author: Thanfiction
PWP, really. It tried to be more, but it�s a one-shot and will STAY that way.
Rating NC-17 for sexual content
Pairings : Michael Corner/Ginny Weasley, Terry Boot/OC, Sort-of Michael/Terry
Warnings: Slashish? Underage sexuality.
Notes: This is sort of a spin-off from my massive D.A. novel �Dumbledore�s Army and the Year of Darkness� , inasmuch as Michael Corner and Terry Boot�s relationship and characterization are drawn from that fic. However, that�s really entirely irrelevant. This is porn. Blame luvscharlie and laya_bonifacio. They are bad, evil flesh peddlers. Also, blame my ex that I haven�t gotten laid since she decided my heart would make a nice hors d'oeuvre. I have never written porn before, or even a racy scene, so please forgive me if it sucks in any ways it's not supposed to, and sorry if a guy's POV isn't the most emotionally sensitive, especially a guy's first sexual encounter.

OOO

�I don�t get it. You guys were great together, and I don�t mean that you were just the best-looking couple I think Hogwarts has seen in the last twenty years or so. You really seemed to have some chemistry going.� Terry Boot frowned at his best friend bemusedly, crossing the Ravenclaw dormitory to where the other boy had flopped face-up on his bed, his arms laced behind his head as he stared up at the deep blue canopy with a resigned-looking stare.

�An inaccurate observation, it would seem,� Michael retorted dryly.

Terry climbed onto the bed next to him, �Where was the error?�

�Me.�

�You?�

�Me,� Michael repeated, and a rueful smile quirked the full lips. �Being me, as opposed to someone other than me, such as, for example, a certain Gryffindor with whom we are all familiar to the point of nausea.�

�I don�t �� Terry began, then the dark eyes met his, and a sudden memory rushed over him, so fresh and vivid that it took him a moment to realize that it was not his own, but that of his friend. Even still, he heard himself gasp, and his pulse began to speed with the intensity of the sensations that felt so real, projected or not.

He was out on the grounds, tucked into a dark corner where the stone wall curved in close behind the storage shed near the greenhouses, sitting on a crate full of empty pots with Ginny Weasley on his lap. Her hands, soft and warm, were up under his shirt, sliding over his skin, the nails digging into the edge between oh-god-that-hurts and just plain oh-god. Her sweater was unbuttoned, her tie loose, her shirt open just a few buttons, but far enough to reveal the tops of her breasts and the edge of her bra, and his head was buried in the sweet flesh, his tongue running under the edge of the satin fabric, barely teasing where the velvet skin began to pucker at the edges of her nipples.

His own hands cupped the curve of her ass, holding her against him as she rocked back and forth, her legs tight around his waist. Every motion, every pulse of her hips was driving him insane, making his heart pound in his ears, his breath coming in gasps. He was so hard it almost hurt, and if she kept this up, he knew he was going to come in his pants right there. Ginny was moaning, her head thrown back, eyes closed, that gorgeous mane of copper shimmering in the sunset like fire as she moved faster and faster now, her own voice tight with building pleasure. �Oh � yes � yes � c�mon � don�t tease me � please � c�mon � feels so good � oh, Harry �.�

The vision passed instantly, harshly, and Terry was no longer behind the storage shed, but in his own dormitory, looking down at a youth whose eyes had flicked to his lap with a smirking satisfaction that he was no longer the only one to have to deal with an unrequited hard-on that day. �As you can imagine, that put a bit of a damper on things.�

Terry raised one eyebrow, wiping his face with the edge of his sleeve where he had actually begun to sweat under the intensity of the shared memory. �Your sense of self-respect is a lot stronger than mine would have been, Mike. Personally, if I�d had a girl doing that, I wouldn�t have cared if she called me Professor Flitwick!�

Michael laughed. �Neither would I, to be honest. And I didn�t really care. Well, I cared, but�.�

�The portions of your anatomy that were driving the present situation weren�t the ones that cared?�

�Exactly.� He sighed, grimacing ruefully. �Unfortunately, Ginny noticed. She jumped right off me and started apologizing, and I tried to tell her it didn�t matter, but that just made it worse. Started crying and saying she never should have done it in the first place, that it wasn�t fair to me, that we needed to stop seeing each other, and then she was gone.� Michael reached into his pocket, pulling out a crimson and gold tie. �Didn�t even put herself back together all the way.�

�Damn.� Terry shook his head slowly. �Did you have any idea? I mean, it�s not like going for one of the twins instead of the other. No offense to The Boy Who Lived, but general consensus is that you�ve got him pretty well whipped in the looks department. Beyond dark hair � and yours tends to stay where you put it � I don�t see it.�

Michael considered it a long moment, then rolled over, bracing his elbows on the bed to cup his chin in his hands. He didn�t argue the other boy�s assertation about his looks, but that was one of the things that Terry liked about him. To him, they were just a fact, a simple matter of proportions and ratios that equated to a personal trait, like being left-handed or able to wiggle his ears. Most other guys who were even half as handsome were either insufferably vain or insisted that they weren�t anything special, and both false modesty and thick refusal were equally infuriating to someone who knew full well he qualified as �not unattractive� if he really tried.

�I don�t know,� he finally admitted. �Maybe it was the glasses. She�d never really seemed to notice me before she caught me in the library wearing them for one of the Restricted books with the really tiny old script.�

�She got suddenly wet for the specs and it wasn�t a clue, Corner?� scoffed Terry.

�At the time,� he rebutted, �I thought it was just that she�d caught me with them. I had them off and in my pocket in about half a second, but you know how witches are. It gives them a sense of being special if they know you have a secret, and perception of intimacy is one of the most powerful instigating factors for a girl.�

�Don�t suppose it matters now, though,� Terry shrugged, �I guess you guys are done.�

�Oh, definitely. I�m just going to see if I can get her to break up publicly over Quidditch.� Michael replied.

�Huh?�

�Worst part of a break-up in this school,� Michael made a face. �All the stupid guessing. Who cheated on who, who had a dark secret, what The Fight was about. You know how it is. But Gryffindor and Ravenclaw are going to be playing next week, so I�m going to ask her if whoever loses could just, you know, not take it well and the other one can call it quits so that everyone else has a clear reason we�re not together.�

�Makes sense�.� Terry flopped back next to him, squeezing his shoulder sympathetically. �You know, for someone who�s the object of so many crushes, your percentage of success leaves a great deal to be desired. You never even got that far with Cho, did you?�

�I�ve had more passionate kisses with my grandmother,� Michael agreed flatly. �But her family�s more than a little strict. She told me once that her older sister came this close to getting disowned because her father caught her � prepare yourself, Terry � sitting next to a wizard and holding his hand all alone.� He looked again at the tie in his hands. �And now she�s with Harry, anyway, even though even mentioning his name or Cedric�s makes her start seriously attempting self-dehydration out the eyeballs. Maybe I should just officially declare myself to be celibate. It would be noble rather than pathetic.�

�Wrong colors for noble,� Terry took the tie from his friend�s grip and tossed it off the edge of the bed. �What we need is a plan. Something suitably genius.�

�What about you?� Michael asked curiously. �You�ve not exactly had the best track record yourself, you know. Other than taking Li to the Yule Ball�.� He hesitated, taking a deep breath. �Honestly, Terry, I�ve been having to defend you lately as we�re getting older. People are starting to question your proclivites. It�s not just that you�ve never had a girlfriend � that holds true for half of our house, really, considering we don�t exactly tend to notice much that isn�t Latinate in origin � but that you don�t seem to try.�

Terry rolled over quickly, startled and a little bit hurt. �You don�t think I�m ��

�Of course not. We�ve been too far inside each other�s heads too often. I know perfectly well that your appreciation of my � or any other boy�s � physical attributes does not extend beyond an academic awareness. But there are ways of knowing if a girl really is trying to use you to get to me.�

�I won�t do it without permission, Mike.� He shook his head fiercely. �No way. And there are few faster ways to get rid of a witch than to ask to look inside her thoughts to see if she meant it about asking you out.� Terry paused, then a slow, lascivious grin spread over his face. �However, I did manage something over the holiday that I have not as yet had the opportunity to share with you.�

Michael let out a howl of indignant annoyance, bouncing up to pummel his friend with the first pillow he could grab. �You son of a bludger, Boot! I let you just this side of have a goddamned threesome with me and Ginny, but you don�t even tell me you � �

�O.W.L. year!   O.W.L. year! I forgot!� he shouted desperately.

The other wizard took a deep breath, dropping the pillow and regarding him through narrowed eyes. �You�re damned lucky I�m in the same house as you. No one else would believe that tests could make you forget to mention you�d lost your virginity a few months ago. And when I still haven�t, you skrewt.�

�Not quite that far,� Terry confessed. �But farther than you and Ginny got.�

�Oh, c�mon�.� Michael crawled over to lie as close to him as he could without actually embracing, his dark eyes boring eagerly into the cobalt blue. �Share.�

His father�s office Christmas parties were always boring affairs, but he always went anyway, not just because it was an annual obligation to be shown off as �meet my family� but also because you never knew when you were going to meet someone who might prove useful later.   He smiled and nodded through a dozen introductions, instantly filing the names of almost all of the witches and wizards as: �Irrelevant to anything. Ever.�   He was just beginning to consider stabbing his own eyes out with a canap� fork to make things more interesting when a young witch�s voice, low and melodic, sounded so close to his ear that he jumped.

�Mssr. Boot?�

He whirled, his breath catching as he found himself only inches away from a lovely girl in pale blue silk robes, her wide hazel eyes glittering in amusement within the Gallic refinement of her porcelain-skinned features. Instantly, he recognized one of the witches who had visited from Beauxbaton during the Triwizard Tournament, but oh, Merlin, what was her name? �Je vous prie de m�excuser, � he apologized, �C�est chouette de te revoir�mais j�ai oublie` vous appel--�

She giggled, cutting him off. �Celeste. Your French eez not bad. But een Eenglish eezs all right, my papa eez here with zee Ambassador, and he wants to show me off.�

�Terry.� Abruptly, Ravenclaw tower snapped into focus around him again, and Michael had him firmly by both shoulders, an exasperated smile on his face. �I�m sure she was a very nice girl. I�m sure that you talked about all kinds of things, that you had a lovely evening, that you still exchange letters in both languages, and probably Chinese on top of it. But I. Don�t. Care. I didn�t make you sit through Ginny and I chatting about Quidditch for an hour and a half before we got anywhere.�

�Okay, okay��

He didn�t really know how it had happened. They had just been kissing, his hands in her hair, hers wrapped around his waist, and it was nothing more than he had already done a few times with other girls�tentatively open-mouthed, tongues barely venturing beyond their own lips, the excitement of just doing anything at all too much to really allow more.

And then she had shifted in his arms, and her breasts were pressed against his chest, soft and full, and everything seemed to change. Before he had felt eager, even a little frightened, his pulse racing and his breath tight in his throat, worrying about bumping her nose with his, worrying about whether the kiss was too wet, too hard, not hard enough, what he should do with his teeth�but now�.

He had been aroused before, there had really been no escaping it for about a year and a half now. His body had long ago parted company with the full control of his mind, but this was no simply bothersome or embarassing erection. Every inch of his skin seemed to flush, to sensitize at once, and he wanted, he needed, and her body was a drive as strong as thirst or hunger ever had been.

The kiss that had been awkward became almost savage, and his tongue was thrusting deep into her mouth now, and she moaned into his mouth, arching against him, and he knew that this this was what they had meant to do all along, whether they�d known it or not. Their mouths crushed together, his hands slid down her body to her back, and he pulled her in as tightly as he could, his hips moving of their own volition.   It had always been the stuff of nightmares that a girl would notice that he was hard, but now he was rubbing himself against her, and she wasn�t pulling away, she was pushing back, her own hips thrusting back against him in a staccato rhythm of equal need.

Her hands had pulled his shirt from the waistband of his trousers, and they slid beneath the thin cotton of the undershirt, running along his back, and the feel of skin on skin made him gasp.   He didn�t think, didn�t really even know what he was doing, but he pushed her away just enough to grab the front of her robes. His body was crying out at the loss of contact, screaming for more, and he was breathing hard, he felt feverish, starved as he yanked the blue silk apart.

A hiss of frustration slid between his teeth. She had on an underrobe, too. But that was open almost as quickly, and now there was just her bra and panties beneath the open garments, but that could wait for now. He clutched her again, and he had never imagined that the curves of a girl�s body could be something so exquisite. They seemed made for his hands, for his mouth, and there were so many little details that had never seemed to matter before.

That tiny hollow just above the collarbone, where you could feel her pulse with your tongue, and if you flicked it there, she would gasp and buck her hips and growl so low in her throat you could feel the skin vibrate.   The dip at the curve of the lower back where your palms fit so perfectly to cup your hands around her ass. The taste of salt and the indescribable scent, so faint but so intoxicating, of woman in the cleft between her breasts.

Somehow, somewhere, he had lost his own robe, his own shirt, even though he neither remembered taking it off or having it pulled from him. It didn�t matter. Her hands were kneading his shoulders, his back, running over his chest with smooth fingertips and sharp nails, and his head jerked back from where he had been licking and nipping at the soft underside of her jawline as her fingers flickered over his nipple. He had heard that girls liked that, but no one had prepared him that his own body might respond so dramatically, and he shivered so hard that for a moment, he thought he might have come.

The clasp of her bra stopped him for several seconds, his mind having dissolved into a world of animal instinct where the simple hooks were almost too complicated to manage, but then they had ripped apart, and the cups fell loosely away from her chest, her breasts slipping free beneath. His knees bent � buckled, really � and he had them cupped in his hands, pressing them together against his face, kneading, caressing, exploring. They were heavier than he had imagined, and impossibly, amazingly soft. Softer than velvet or silk, softer than anything he had ever even heard of, yet firm at the same time, weighty and substantial enough that he wasn�t afraid to burrow against them.

He had no idea what he was doing, but it must have been right somehow, because she was writhing and giving little moans of her own, her pulse fast beneath his fingers, her own breath coming in tight little pants, and she was muttering in French so rapid and so guttural that he knew he could never have followed it if any blood had been left in his brain. Not that it mattered. The gist was clear enough.

Her nipples had tightened to little peaks, rough against the surrounding smoothness, and he took one in his mouth, flicking his tongue over it, sucking it, letting his teeth graze ever so lightly against it as his fingers worked the other. There was no plan, no technique, he just wanted to feel them, wanted to taste them, wanted to know every inch of her body in every way his own would allow.

Then she had pulled away, and he cried out in disappointment, but her hands were on his shoulders again, and she pushed him back, toppling them both to the floor of the empty office in a tangle of half-removed clothing and grasping limbs. They rolled over together, and he was on top of her now, and this was better yet, much better, because he could press down against her, their hips lunging together as his mouth returned to her breasts.

His erection was aching, straining against the front of his pants so badly that it hurt, and his fingers tore away from her body just long enough to snatch at his belt. The button accidentally popped off under his clumsy efforts, but her delicate hands had joined his, and he gave a gasp of incredible relief as she got the zipper down and shoved the heavy woolen trousers off his hips. He was still wearing his shorts, but the thin cotton scarcely mattered, and when he lowered himself again, it was like nothing he had ever even imagined before.

She was hot, fever hot, burning hot, hotter than seemed possible without burning, but his own skin felt just as flushed. The insides of her thighs were glistening, her knickers soaked, and there was a wonderful, rich scent that was primal and musky and sweet and oh god amazing and how could you be this turned on and not just die?

Their mouths had found one another again, their hands sliding frantically over the tangled bodies, their own and each other�s without discretion or care. He was sweating now, and so was she, but it just made everything move together easier, cling tighter, feel even more if that could be possible. They were both writhing, whimpering, moaning in pleasure in no language at all any more, her back slamming the floor almost as quick as their pulse now as they bucked against one another, too frantic to actually attack the final garments that were all that actually separated him now from being inside her.

But he could still feel her, and as the pleasure built, his mind started to come apart completely. There were no thoughts any more. None at all. Only sensations, bodies, instincts.

Wet. Hot. Slick. Cock. Throbbing. Tongue. Cunt. Hands. Tits. Mouth.

Every muscle in his body tightened at once, the sensation bordering so closely on pain that he cried out, shuddering, as the heat in his dick built and burst and he came, jerking against her and sobbing with the overwhelming feeling of it all.   His head was reeling, he felt almost like he was going to pass out, but she had grabbed his hand and shoved it beneath her panties, and his dazed mind couldn�t even process what was slipping so incredibly beneath his fingertips before her back had arched hard, she�d given a little scream, and they collapsed against each other, sucking in air as though it would make the world make sense again�or make them care that it didn�t any more.

He was still trembling, there was a hot stickiness at his groin, a deep throbbing that told him he�d come again, but Terry scarcely noticed as he released the connection, the memory fading back to what it had been before he raised it and shared it with his friend. Instead, what had his attention so completely was he and Michael were no longer laying side by side, but tangled together, and he could feel the other boy�s erection flagging as freshly as his own.

Their arms were wrapped around each other, their hair damp and clinging to their faces, their chests still heaving, and he could taste a faint lingering hint of chocolate in his mouth. He hadn�t eaten chocolate that day.

For a long moment, they just stared at each other, blue into brown, trying to process on any level at all what had just happened. Finally, Michael licked his lips, taking a deep breath, and his voice held a slow, deliberate calm that was so precisely enunciated that even his best friend couldn�t tell what feelings, if any, were beneath. �Reality is defined by consensus, correct, Tiresius?�

He nodded faintly, feeling Michael�s hair brush his forehead, so close were they to one another still, both too afraid, too stunned to have even moved apart. �Generally accepted as so, yes�you might even say that by consensus, reality is defined by consensus.�

�Good. So if you agree with me, this never happened, right?�

�What never happened?�

�Exactly.�

THE END
- 1
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

By Consensus