Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Sleeping Dogs II	By : ChimaeraChan Category: Harry Potter AU/AR > Slash - Male/Male Views: 30426 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
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
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CH4—The Black Wolf

Harry had showered and used multiple cleaning spells in the hopes of getting the smell of coyote off and out of him. Neville might have been fucked up, but Harry still didn't want the boy dead. Maybe severely bruised after how he had bitten him and didn't really seem to be sorry about it at all, but not dead.
Draco still hadn't shown up, absent from the Great Hall during lunch and now dinner. Harry was getting a little worried. Not that he thought Draco was injured or anything, so much as, maybe the Slytherin was having second thoughts. Draco had really enjoyed himself when Sirius had filled him, but even so, he might be upset with Harry over it. Harry was having a difficulty feeling regretful, except when he considered the possibility that Draco might not want to be his mate anymore.
As much as Harry really enjoyed sex, he still had this part of him that wanted more out of life. Not that his life was terrible since waking up as the mutt. He had been very unhappy before having a pack, feeling alone, angry and disconnected from the rest of the world. But sex, as distracting and enjoyable as it was, had not filled the void Harry had been feeling in his life. No, that was something only Draco had been able to do. There really was no replacing his pretty wolf in that regard and Harry was hoping he hadn't ruined things between them.
He was having difficulty focusing too much on these unpleasant thoughts. For one, he was unimaginably horny. Beyond what he had been used to during the months of ache he had been learning to bear. It reminded him of when he had first woken up, nearly bending to creatures in the Forbidden Forest until Padfoot had come along and taken care of him.
The other reason Harry couldn't concentrate was because Neville was staring at him.
The dodgy coyote had taken a seat across from Harry at the table directly to the left and was just blatantly staring. Not pretending to eat, not talking to anyone, hell—even a book on the table would have been something. No, Neville was staring, burning deep blue eyes, lower lip caught between his teeth while Harry tried to ignore him and eat. Ron, Seamus and Lavender could not ignore it and kept whispering while looking from Harry to Neville. It was not a good sign when Harry's oblivious housemates started to notice him, especially when in the light of Neville's hungry gaze. Harry did not need a bunch of his peers to figure out that he was always aching. They wouldn't understand and would surely torment him the rest of his years at Hogwarts for it.
Decided, Harry got up to escape. His legs were weak from want of sex and he nearly tripped getting over the bench. He pursed his lips, face flushing when his housemates eyes turned his way. “Gotta pee...” he mumbled, shuffling backwards at their amused gazes.
“Harry, wait! I want to talk to you.” Neville jumped up, scrambling over the bench to follow after. Harry scowled, having nearly reached the double doors. Ron and Lavender had started laughing the instant Neville had spoken to him.
“Leave me alone, Neville.” He backed away, glaring at the boy. Neville reeked of sex, although at least now he had the decency to use a concealing charm for his erection. The blond was biting at his sleeve again, the adorable nervous tic that meant he was more shy than ravenous at the moment. Hopefully Harry could escape before that changed.
“I just... I just wanted to apologize,” Neville said carefully, eyes flicking around to the other students in the Great Hall, only a few looking back. “And, uh, thank you. I forgot to thank you. You really helped me... and I should have thanked you...”
Harry sighed, taking another step back. “It's fine. I just, you know, have to leave...” He froze, a taller body suddenly knocking behind him as he stepped back again. His mind blared loud warnings, a familiar yet new scent filling his senses. Neville's wide eyes confirmed Harry's suspicions, the new animagus having caught the scent as well. Wolf. There was a wolf behind Harry and it was tall and very, very thermal as it breathed hot air on his neck.
“Potter, get the fuck out of the way.”
Harry tried very hard not to moan, breath coming out in fast pants. He needed to run away. Now. This was not his pack, this was not his wolf, and he needed to get the fuck away. First a coyote and now a wolf—Where the hell were they all coming from?
Seeing Harry's distressed expression and frozen state, Neville cautiously reached the hand he wasn't chewing the sleeve of his robe of, and grabbed for Harry's shaking fingers. Blaise Zabini was a good head taller than Neville, with waist length black dreadlocks and skin the color of cool, dusty clay, making his violet eyes seem like amethyst jewels uncovered in the ground. Nothing Neville would ever tell the very athletic, very foul-tempered Slytherin currently glaring at him. “Excuse us, Z-Zabini. Harry was just a little dizzy. He, uh, didn't like his food...”
“Whatever, just get the hell—Potter, why are you... What is that?” Blaise gave a sniff around Harry's neck, pale eyes narrowing. He suddenly growled, heat rising over Harry's skin in an intense wave of lust from the simple sound.
“Everyone just get the fuck away from me,” Harry whispered weakly, snatching his hand from Neville's and sliding around Blaise's suddenly motionless form. Harry could feel eyes from the students at the tables and he knew if he didn't get away as soon as humanly possible, everyone was going to know what he was. And if not exactly that, they would at least figure out he was a really huge slut.
“I asked you a question!” Blaise snapped, grabbing Harry roughly by the back of his neck. Harry was unfortunately reminded of the coyote teeth that had been embedded in that exact spot only hours ago, his body shuddering hotly from the memory. He was blushing, he knew it. Blushing, hard, panting like an idiot and about to start making noises that would be extremely obvious about his need for sex.
“Not here,” Harry begged softly, a whine catching in his throat. “Please.. please... outside the doors...” As long as no one saw, he would still be okay. Just as long as no one knew.
Glancing up and noticing for the first time that they were indeed in the Great Hall with a very large audience, Blaise gripped Harry tighter by the neck and pushed him forward, walking him out the doors. Neville shook himself, running to catch up. The blond pulled Harry's arms the instant they were out of sight of the Great Hall, trying to pry Harry from Blaise's grip.
He faltered when Blaise turned his glare full blast to him again but Neville didn't back down. “Leave him alone, Zabini. He's not feeling well and you're only making it worse.”
“He's feeling fine, you little rabbit. He's feeling more than fine.” Blaise shifted his stubborn grip to Harry's shoulder, sniffing up the side of the brunette's neck and growling lowly again. “What the... What the fuck are you?”
“Pack,” Harry bit out, feeling dizzy and overwhelmed. God, where had all his fucking control gone? Months of training out the fucking window with one fucking growl. Fuck!
“Pack? What does that even mean?” Blaise huffed, pulling Harry back hard against his broad chest and burying his face into the boy's mess of dark brown locks. “You don't have a book bag... My god, you smell good... Like dripping honey... and chocolate... maybe a hint of mint...” He moved his head lower, nosing into Harry's chest and then armpit. “And something else... something hot—Spicy... thick and dark... Musky... very musky... god...”
He pushed Harry up against the wall, moving down the boy's smaller form, nose nuzzling into the back of his shirt. He pushed the billowing material away with a growl. Then he sniffed down where Harry's back cinched to his waist, over his lower back, breathing deep, tongue flicking out.
“Stop,” Harry gasped, face falling against the wall as he groaned. They were still too close to the Great Hall. Anyone could walk out and find them, Blaise on his knees while smelling Harry, which was just going to lead to much worse very quick. Blaise ignored him, running his lips down Harry's hip, breathing slowly, eyes closing as he savored Harry's sex scent wafting from the band of his jeans.
“Honey... cardamom... saffron... Something... something so fucking tasty...” Blaise mumbled, tongue slipping over Harry's flesh, catching on the edge of his jeans, teeth nipping to pull the material.
“Please leave him alone, Zabini,” Neville broke in, tentatively tugging on the boy's heavy shoulder. “Harry can't help how he smells. You shouldn't... you shouldn't do that.”
Blaise shifted, eyes opening and peering up at Neville. “Go away, fluffy bunny. You're too sweet looking to be around for what I'm going to do to Potter. You'll make me feel bad.”
“Neville—Don't you dare go!” Harry snapped, unable to lift his head at the moment, sweat dripping down his face.
“Shut up, Potter,” Blaise grumbled, whirling Harry and slamming him back against the wall by the hips. He pulled Harry's waistband forward, shoving his face against the boy's flesh and breathing his heady scent in fully. “My god... Merciful... Delicious... God... I am going to fuck you unconscious.”
“Oh hell,” Harry moaned, trying to push the boy's head and tongue away from his naval and intended goal of his hard dick. Blaise's hair was long in spongy dreads but the tall boy didn't seem to notice any pain when they were pulled. “We're right next to... the Great Hall...”
Neville, teeth caught on his knuckle as he watched Harry struggle, was having difficulty remembering he was supposed to be helping. Harry was arching back, face flushed, mouth gasping for air, glasses askew. Harry had always been rather special but now when Neville looked at him, he saw something extra. Harry liked to be fucked. A lot. Even by Neville—even by a coyote. Neville, who had been touched by his older cousin more times than he could count throughout his young life, had never really thought anyone would want him to fuck them. Instead they seemed to want to do the fucking to him, usually when he begged very insistently that they didn't.
Harry was different. He liked when Neville touched him back. Although he said different after. But Neville knew what it was like to say one thing and mean another. Every time Neville said 'no,' his cousin had insisted it meant 'yes,' so that just had to be the way of things. And the harder Neville fought, the more his cousin hurt, which also made plenty of sense if you liked pain the way someone like Harry did. Harry struggling and hissing at Blaise was totally just asking for it extra bad and in front of everyone.
“Werewolf...”
Blaise stilled, teeth gritting as he glared up at Harry's dazed face. “What?”
“My alpha... is a werewolf,” Harry hissed, forcing his eyes open to glare back. “Get the fuck off me.”
Blaise hesitated, trying to calculate around the heady scent of sex in the air. Was there a werewolf in the school? Could he honestly say he knew for certain when he hadn't even known what Harry was? Draco had warned Blaise to stay away from his vicious little boyfriend or there would be pain, but hadn't said why. Pack... he had said Potter was pack...
“He's not lying,” Neville said softly. “It's pretty obvious... once you actually think about it.”
“Lupin...” Blaise muttered as the pieces clicked together. He pushed away from Harry, stumbling to his feet. “Fucking werewolf freak.”
Harry leaned back heavily against the wall, relief and need shaking him. Thank god wolves hated werewolves. Too bad the ignorant coyote didn't seem to care, but it was at least one less dick to deal with... God, he was fucking hard. Hard and aching. Fucking wolves and coyotes popping out of nowhere, just to torment him. If Harry didn't have to fear that his pack might smell all these new scents on him, he would have been back in the shack getting filled already.
“Harry, are you...?” Neville swallowed hard, his cheeks flushed red. He was trying to be nice but it was hard with the way Harry looked and smelled. “Do you need help? To get to... um... bed?” He hadn't really meant it the way it sounded. But then again, if Harry agreed...
Harry stared at the boy's hand, once again touching his wrist and reeking of sex. The damn coyote—Who would have thought Neville was so messed up? “Let go. I know what you're doing.”
Neville bit his lip, sliding closer, eyes flickering to Blaise who still hadn't left. The tall boy was staring, violet eyes glaring at the two of them, tongue touching over his canines. He was very fierce looking but Neville thought he was also handsome. Maybe even worthy of making a deal with... “He's strong, isn't he, Harry? You said you like strong guys and Blaise is definitely strong.”
Harry jerked, his ache flaring as he realized what Neville was talking about. “Stop it, you bloody coyote... I'm not some fucking toy.”
Neville smiled, tangling his fingers with Harry's. “You would make a nice toy. You're so soft.” He pressed his face to Harry's neck, noticing how the brunette seemed too weak to even pull away. Harry was breathing heavily, smelling so good... “I'd play with you all the time. Clean you, dress you, feed you... We could bathe together... sleep wrapped tight together...” He petted Harry's hair, lashes lowered to gaze at the boy's red pout. “I would do so many bad things to you, Harry. Naughty... painful... terrible things... And you would like them all.”
“Shit,” Blaise hissed, taking a step forward but holding himself back. Harry had started whimpering, leaning away from Neville but not actually fighting. He looked like he might even fall over and that was a very interesting idea. Potter on the ground, panting and sweating. Maybe even with Neville touching him... The sweet boy kissing Harry gently... blushing like he always did... Blaise really liked it when Neville blushed.
“You both... need to... back off...” Harry warned through gritted teeth. But it was all he could do. His knees had locked up, his head dizzy, body feeling sluggish and heavy. He wanted cock. Inside him. Very badly.
“Zabini?” Neville turned to the boy, cheek resting on Harry's, beautiful blue eyes wide with a question. “How strong are you?”
Blaise took another step forward, towering over the little rabbit of a boy. Harry had groaned at the question, the heated noise sending red pulsing in Blaise's head. “Strong.”
Neville smirked, pressing his wicked smile into Harry's cheek. “Strong enough to carry him? Maybe... oh... to a quiet room? Just the three of us?”
Blaise's breath caught in his throat. He had heard a rumor about Neville Longbottom, one he had been quick to dismiss because of the boy's sweet face and constant blushes. One that had been far too delicious to ever be possible. Now Blaise wasn't so certain. No one actually sweet and innocent could smile that crazily while suggesting secreting his own housemate away for a rough fuck in a dark room.
“I know a place.”

“Quieter... just a little... yeah, fuck yeah...”
“That's not going to work. He can still make noise.”
“Fine... shit, spell thingy... silencing...” Blaise muttered while tearing Harry's shirt off. He breathed up the boy's bare chest, Harry's moan muffled by the gag wrapped around his mouth. “Should we tie him up?” Blaise asked Neville, eyes lighting over the blond who had just proficiently spelled the walls to keep sound from escaping the empty classroom.
Neville shrugged, slipping his wand away and leaning on a desk. “If you like that sort of thing. It's not like he's going to try and run for it.”
Blaise wet his lips, hands moving down Harry's stomach, gripping the boy's sides tight. “Why is that? He used to be so powerful.”
“When you want it as bad as he does, you probably can't do much but bend over.” Neville watched Harry's face as he said it, the boy's green eyes dazed and unmasked without his glasses. That was how Harry had been for his coyote. He had practically begged to be fucked by the time he was overwhelmed enough. Neville wondered just how much it took to get the boy to that point.
“You should finish taking his clothes off,” Neville said quietly. “His scent gets so good like that.”
Blaise nodded, hands undoing the button to Harry's jeans before quickly unzipping his fly. In the back of his mind he wondered what exactly Potter's alpha would do in revenge. The mild mannered professor really didn't intimidate Blaise, werewolf or not. It was Lupin's own fault for not watching his little bitch. Potter was just begging to be fucked when he smelled like this and anyone with a nose could tell.
Neville walked around Harry, tearing a strip off the over sized shirt and using it to bind the boy's hands together behind his back. Harry glared at him and Neville couldn't help but smile. “Strong, right Harry? I want you to like this. There are always solutions to problems... just not obvious. Mmm... oh, that's it...” Neville's eyes fell shut, Harry's scent rising up, dripping of lust, need, and heat.
“God, he fucking wants this bad,” Blaise said with a groan, Harry's erection practically streaming precum. He finished stripping the boy, including pulling off Harry's shoes and socks. He was slender, long limbs of pale olive skin flushed dark red in places, a few white thin lines of scars littering the sight, drawing Blaise's eye.
“You should fuck him. Hard. I think he likes it hard.” Neville ghosted his fingers over Harry's side. “Right, Harry?”
Harry choked on a moan. Hard was good. Hard was very good. But only with his pack. There was no way Remus would forgive this. Harry was supposed to be stronger, able to fight off the advances of two simple students. His body, for some reason, was not listening to him.
Blaise stilled his hands, eyes again pulled back to the blond. “Take off your clothes first.”
Neville blushed, ducking his head into Harry's neck and pushing up against the shorter boy's side. “I don't... um...”
Standing from where he had been kneeling at Harry's feet, Blaise inhaled sharply, watching Neville peek out at him from the brunette's shoulder. The two were nearly the same height, Harry with a wilder look to his face than Neville's shy expressions. Neville a bit paler to Harry's slight tan, Harry dark featured while Neville a cool ashy blond. They looked very good together and Blaise wanted to see if Neville's body compared to Harry's slender, lightly toned form.
“Strip,” Blaise ordered hoarsely, “or you're going to be the one tied up.”
Blue eyes widening, Neville nodded, catching his red lip between his teeth. As mean as Zabini sounded, Neville had a strong suspicion if the boy did tie him up it would be about the worst of it. He seemed almost nice, for all his snapping and big arms... But then, maybe Neville just wanted him to be nice. Blaise was one of the few Slytherins that didn't pick on him.
Neville stepped away, placing his wand on a nearby desk. He could feel Blaise staring at him and he chanced a peek his way. Yup, staring... Neville had not realized Zabini had wanted to fuck him, the Slytherin usually so aloof and quiet. But the idea wasn't too bad. The boy was attractive and hadn't done anything mean to him yet. Not like that ugly fuck, Crabbe... or Snape...
He pushed his robe off from his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor in a black puddle around his feet. Eyes intentionally averted from the boy that was still staring at him, Neville kicked his shoes off, then quickly tore through the buttons of his shirt. Thinking of Snape always pissed Neville off. The man was a dick. A giant, bat-shaped dick...
“Wait,” Blaise said with a growl, Neville jumping, eyes widening to find the boy right in front of him.
“W-What?” He asked, gasping when Blaise went so far as to actually touch him. He closed his eyes, cheeks gaining more color. He realized just what Blaise was running his fingertips over so gently on his side and he was mortified.
“You're burned... Cigar, right?”
“One fell on me—”
“Fucking liar. It wouldn't be a perfect circle if it fell. There wouldn't be five perfect circles, like some messed up branding...” Blaise covered the circle of marks, his dark palm large enough to fit and block the burns from view.
Neville ducked his head, wishing the boy would just leave him alone. He had no interest in discussing his cousin with anyone... Well, besides Harry. Neville had a feeling Harry might understand. Might even want to help him feel better after his cousin's visits.
“Hold on—Don't...” Neville swallowed hard, Blaise suddenly moving his hands down to unclasp Neville's pants. The boy was much taller and absolutely stronger than Neville and he didn't want to get his ass kicked by arguing with him. Cold air hit his legs, Neville keeping his gaze straight ahead, peering at the dim bulletin board across the room. Blaise's hands were on his waist, tugging at the band of his underwear.
“Come on, Longbottom. Don't chicken out on me now. You're the one that wanted to face down an angry werewolf for this.”
“For Harry... Not so that you'd...” Neville trailed off, Blaise suddenly stepping back, large hands no longer on his waist.
“I just want to see you with him. And then I'm going to fuck him,” Blaise said lowly, hungry gaze moving to Harry's panting form. “He needs it... Can smell just how much he needs it... But I won't touch you, Longbottom. Not if you don't want me to.”
Neville wasn't completely sure what he wanted when it came to this particular Slytherin, especially when he said bizarrely nice things like that. Ignoring the thought, he shimmied out of his underwear, leaving them to pile with the rest of his clothes. Zabini was staring at him again, likely surprised with how girly he looked. Mason was always saying Neville looked like a girl, waif like and delicate, creamy porcelain skin just perfect for hurting. Neville hated it.
Ignoring the burning stare, Neville focused on Harry instead. Harry's scent made him so hot, so desperate to help the beautiful slut get off the only way the blond knew how. He'd rather think of Harry than his cousin any day.
Harry's head was bent forward, ducked down while he whimpered in need, nude body glistening sweat. Neville slipped his finger around the fabric gagging Harry, stretching his red lips wide and likely raw at the corners of his mouth. Harry jerked at the touch, eyes flashing towards his, almost completely free of anger now. “You want it, right? You act like you don't, but I know you do.” Neville licked around the gag, liking the feel of Harry's firm, sweet flesh contrasting with the rough material now soaked with saliva.
Harry made a soft sound from the touch, Neville pressing closer, hands carefully touching the boy's chest and lingering on his nipples. Harry was hard, dick bobbing ever so softly against Neville's hip. He stepped forward the last distance, sighing from the feel of Harry's cock nestled up against his own, his heated skin damp and slippery to the touch.
He hadn't ever been allowed to touch a boy, Neville only always being touched. He had touched dicks, his cousin's and sometimes Mason's friends. Neville knew you had to be very careful, no teeth or fingernails on that particular part or they'd beat him. But no one had shown him how to touch any other part of a boy, besides what had been done to him. Hopefully Harry would like it.
Harry cried out, trying to push the gag free from his mouth with his tongue. Neville watched him, fingers twisting the boy's nipple harder, pulling at the bud and turning it bright red. Neville bent his head and licked his tongue over the sore flesh, teeth nipping sharply, Harry yelping in reply. Neville blinked, Harry suddenly falling to the ground onto his knees, hands still tied behind his back while he swayed for balance.
Harry looked very pretty with the gag in his mouth but Neville thought maybe the boy was on his knees for another reason. Harry liked being touched, liked being fucked and might want to have Neville do things to him that were always done to the blond. The idea was wild to him and Neville roughly pulled at the knot tangled in Harry's hair, loosening the gag enough to pull it down the boy's face. Harry gasped, breathing deep once the material was removed, dripping clear fluid, his lips even a brighter red from the harsh fabric.
Neville didn't give Harry much time to breathe, grabbing the brunette's ears and holding him steady while he pressed his cock head to Harry's parted lips. Harry opened to him with a groan, Neville's eyes closing from the feel of heat and wet. It wasn't so bad from this side of things... No choking... No wondering if someone was going to strangle you dead if you didn't do it right...
“You need to let him breathe, bunny,” Blaise muttered, carefully prying one of Neville's hands off of Harry's face and pushing the brunette's head back. Harry gasped for air, Neville opening his eyes in surprise. He had felt so good inside...
“Sorry.” Neville bit his lip, avoiding Blaise's stare. The Slytherin was probably laughing at him for not knowing what he was doing. Neville fought back another blush, instead focusing on Harry's face. He was dazed, cheeks flushed, hair even more of a mess. Neville ran his fingertips over Harry's swollen lips, gasping when Harry began to lick them sensually.
Blaise suddenly grabbed Neville around the waist, the blond squeaking and going still. “Relax,” Blaise said in his ear, pressing up against the smaller boy's back, holding his bare hips firmly. Neville wished he could step away, afraid of what the Slytherin wanted from him. Blaise was hard beneath his slacks, throbbing against Neville's ass.
“Potter's going to do all the work.” Blaise reached around and pulled Harry's chin up with his fingers, Harry's lips parting at the touch. “Stop trying to force him, bunny. He likes it. He wants it. Just let him do what he does.”
Beginning to understand what Blaise was doing, Neville blushed hotly. Bunny... he wasn't a bunny. Not really. He didn't resist when Blaise pressed his hips forward, helping to guide Neville's dick to Harry's mouth again. Neville felt very hot all of a sudden, Harry's lips stretching wide around his cock and Blaise's body, hard and strong, towering above and around him while the boy panted in his ear. Almost protective, if not for the searing flesh of his arousal that Zabini had managed to not grind against him, even now while watching Harry swallow Neville down.
“Oh... god...” Neville moaned, his eyelids drooping. Harry was looking at him, green eyes catching his while he licked the underside of his cock. Harry was good at this, sucking just right, tongue contouring and rubbing. Neville went to tangle his fingers in Harry's hair, wanting the boy to take him deeper, but Blaise caught his hands before he could. The Slytherin threaded their fingers together, unbalancing Neville so that the shorter boy was leaning back against his chest.
“Let him do his thing. Just relax.” Neville closed his eyes, Blaise rumbling in a seductive manner.
“It feels so good,” Neville whispered, Blaise rocking them slowly back and forth, Harry's hot mouth bobbing in rhythm over his cock.
“Yes, especially when you're not in a hurry... You can let that feeling build in you... curling hot and tight...” Blaise's lips brushed ever so softly against Neville's ear. Neville gasped at the touch, eyes flying open. “Think of it as a slow race... where the winner comes last...”
Neville groaned, Blaise rubbing one achingly long thrust against his ass. Harry was whimpering, looking in absolute desperate need with his mouth full of Neville's flushed dick and dripping hot fluids messily. “Wow,” Neville whispered weakly, Harry again meeting his gaze. Something about the intensity of that contact sent Neville over the edge, his body arching back, cock spurting his release into Harry's eager mouth.
Neville shuddered, Harry swallowing his seed except for a thread dribbling down the corner of his mouth. God, Harry had sucked him off. Harry had let him fuck his mouth and then had swallowed like a damn good cocksucker. Neville had known Harry was special, just had never imagined how much.
“You should show him how much you liked that, bunny.” Blaise tightened his grip on Neville's hands, brushing his lips lightly over the boy's flushed cheek. “Thank him properly, for a job well done.”
Neville's eyes drifted down, fixing on Harry's cock, straining and swaying. He didn't usually like to suck cock, mostly because his cousin was always choking him with his. But Harry was tied up and probably wouldn't be able to do that to him. Harry was nice; he probably wouldn't choke Neville even with his hands untied.
“Hold him up for me?” Neville asked, looking up at the boy that kept smelling his hair. Blaise grinned wickedly in reply. He released Neville's hands, the smaller boy surprised by how cold he felt without Blaise's touch. Then Blaise's heat was gone completely, Neville feeling very naked as the black boy prowled around him, still fully dressed as he stooped to haul Harry up to his feet.
Harry was licking his lips and swaying, tongue tracing over the raw corners of his mouth where the gag had bit in too tight. Blaise wrapped his arms tight around Harry's chest and waist, Harry groaning and pressing back eagerly against the boy. Neville watched, Harry spreading his legs and bending forward in Blaise's hold, rubbing his ass and thighs against the taller boy and just begging to be fucked. Harry really did like strong guys... strong guys and dogs...
Staring at the two of them, Neville wondered what both boy's looked like in their animagus forms. Harry had really liked it when his coyote had fucked him. Neville thought maybe he might like that too. He sank to his knees, hands resting on his own thighs, Harry's hard dick right before his eyes with precum streaming. Neville lapped his tongue out slowly, tasting the fluid and contouring over the flushed head. He wiggled in Harry's slit, Harry mumbling loudly while pushing his hips forward.
Usually Neville was being forced down by now, hair being pulled violently, breath stolen away. He wasn't quite sure what to do when not being forced... Harry's cock felt good against his tongue and good on his lips. Neville decided he'd just do things that felt good and hopefully Harry would like it as well.
Blaise tightened his hold on Harry, the boy squirming madly while Neville tormented him. The little rabbit was kissing and licking Harry's dick like a tasty lollipop, letting the hard flesh rub against his face and slicking the blond with his own saliva. From this angle looking down, it was almost like Neville was sucking him off. Blaise growled, pulling Harry's head back to the side so he could see better, rubbing his bulge against the boy's tight cheeks.
Neville panted, face flushed. He was feeling hot again, actually enjoying himself. Harry kept making such needy noises and he smelled so good, musky and delicious, just begging for Neville to keep doing what he was doing. Harry liked it a lot, Neville could tell every time he peeked up, the boy's dazed green eyes staring back, red lips dripping more wet than Neville was with Harry's hard flesh against his lips. Neville was so sure that Harry was enjoying himself, he was even feeling brave enough to suck the boy down.
Stretching higher, Neville carefully rested his hands on Harry's thighs, not used to being allowed to touch the person fucking his mouth. He widened, just taking the tip of Harry's weeping dick into his mouth, feeling the hot flesh move slick against his swollen lips. Harry moaned loudly, Neville closing his eyes at the wonderful, desperate sound. Harry liked it. Liked him. He pulled his lips tighter, suckling gently, tongue flicking out to rub over his slit and steal every drop of precum he could find.
“Fuck... Neville... oh fuck...” Harry gasped, his body jolting with each wiggle of Neville's tongue. Blaise placed a steadying hand on his waist, his large cock grinding against Harry's ass in slow, rhythmic thrusts.
“You are one lucky bitch, Potter,” Blaise rasped out, his fingers splaying over Harry's naval, twitching inches from Neville's slowly bobbing face. “With your scent you can have pretty much anyone you want...”
Harry would have laughed, except Neville was pulling him in deeper, tongue caressing the underside of his cock in trembling swipes. Just because every fucking canine based cock in the vicinity wanted to put it in him didn't mean Harry wanted it. Of course, he had yet to regret it at the time, but he was a terrible slut and couldn't do much about it.
Blaise just couldn't seem to stop himself, fingers itching, slipping into the damp strands of Neville's hair. When the boy made no protest, Blaise began to comb his fingers deeper, raking against the boy's sweating skull, tangling as the hair grew darker and more wet. “You're doing really well, bunny. Potter likes it a lot...” He ran his hand down, tracing over Neville's cheek, fingertips brushing ever so lightly against the boy's red lips as they stretched around Harry's dick. “Fuck, you're pretty...” he whispered, watching the boy open wider and drink more of Harry down.
Blaise blearily tried to remember who was fucking Longbottom in that rumor he had heard. It wasn't anyone at the school, he remembered that much... But it was someone. Someone much older... Someone that when he had heard, it had really pissed him off...
“Neville—Shit, I'm gonna... oh...” Harry moaned loudly, hips jerking forward in Blaise's grasp. Blaise held tighter, not wanting Neville to choke. His violet eyes glared down when Neville made a coughing noise anyways, the boy releasing Harry's spurting cock from his lips with a wet gasp, cum coating the blond's face and dripping from his slack mouth and down his neck.
Growling heatedly, Blaise firmly sat Harry on the nearest desktop, fell to his knees and began licking the cum off of Neville's flushed face. The boy wailed in surprise, his eyes firmly shut, hands up as if to defend himself. Blaise quickly grabbed his slender wrists, just wanting to taste him. That was all, just a taste of that perfect flesh, berry red lips, and Potter's musky cum.
Neville tried to bite back his moans, Blaise's tongue rough and demanding as it lapped firm swipes over his cheeks, the bridge of his nose, along his chin and down his throat. He was pretty sure the powerful boy was going to eat him alive, greedy licks peppered with small nips along the side of his neck. Then suddenly Blaise's wild tongue was plunging into his mouth, lips pressing hungrily to his, pulling his moans free and swallowing them just as fast. It was raw and consuming, Blaise's hand fastened to the back of his head, keeping him from escaping. But Neville didn't want to escape. No one had ever kissed him like that and he liked it.
Blaise pulled back with a groan, tongue lapping out again, tracing over Neville's swollen rosebud lips while the smaller boy panted. Neville glanced up through his thick eyelashes, Blaise staring down at his mouth. “Zabini... that was good... Really good...” he whispered, not really knowing why he was telling the boy.
Blaise growled lowly, large hand moving down to Neville's neck and caressing firmly. “You ever want someone to do you good, bunny—Nice and slow and really good... You come to me, okay? I know I probably scare you, looking the way I do. But I would never hurt you. I'm just a bit rough around the edges, promise.”
Neville was starting to believe that. As abrupt and fierce looking as Zabini was, he was also controlled and hadn't hurt him or Harry once. Neville still didn't fully trust the boy—He was still more than willing to take advantage of Harry, after all, and might not have any qualms of doing the same to Neville. But he didn't seem interested in hurting, and that was definitely new for Neville.
“You should, uh, do that... to Harry...” Neville whispered, watching Blaise's tongue twitch as if it wanted to lick him again. Blaise cupped Neville's cheek, tongue laving a final time over the boy's lips.
“Don't want to do that to Potter...” Blaise tried to read Neville's expression but besides blushing he really couldn't tell what the blond thought of him. Probably for the best. A sweet fluffy thing like Neville wouldn't want to be caught up with someone like him. Blaise got angry easily. He liked to beat people up, liked to scare others just because he could. Neville didn't like bullies, probably even the one bully that didn't pick on him.
Blaise got up with a self-deprecating huff, eyes seeking out Harry who had fallen back on the desk, half hanging off. Blaise wanted to be surprised that the brunette was already hard again, but he wasn't. His inner wolf kept reading information from Harry's scent, things that Blaise didn't fully comprehend but seemed to make sense. Potter was some sort of bitch and needed to be fucked. The boy would only suffer if he wasn't and seeing Harry's aching expression, he already was.
“Come on, Potter,” Blaise snapped and undid his belt, intentionally ignoring Neville when the boy stood, watching while biting his thumb.
Harry gave a groan, wiggling his hips down the desk until he was sliding down to the ground, knees resting on the floor. Face flushed, he took in Blaise's tall form, resting and fixating on the large bulge in the black boy's pants. “Tell me you're actually going to fuck me with that, Zabini,” Harry said, his voice hoarse and full of need.
“It's your fucking lucky day,” Blaise said flippantly. “Go spread over the teacher's desk—Hold on.” He reached forward, grabbing Harry by his tied wrists and tearing the fabric away. There was no way Potter was going to try to get away. That the boy hadn't been on his knees in the Great Hall was now a mystery to Blaise the more he understood Harry's nature.
Harry stumbled to his feet, grasping onto the nearest desk, panting loudly. He made his way to the teacher's desk, bracing himself on his arms and spreading his legs wide. He didn't bother looking behind him. Zabini would be there soon enough. He would fuck him—properly, unlike that vicious coyote—and maybe even go another round, if the boy was up for it.
Blaise paused mid-step, eyes glancing to the side where Neville was grabbing his shirt. The boy was staring somewhere around his neck and Blaise looked down, Neville's other hand quickly undoing his buttons.
“You'll do him hard, right?” Neville asked, biting his lip and wrenching at Blaise's shirt. It took everything in Blaise not to grab the pretty blond boy and grind into his undoubtedly tight hole.
“Bunny, you need to not be so close to me right now,” Blaise warned, eyes taking in the ever rising flush on the boy's cheeks.
“I'm not a fucking rabbit, Zabini,” Neville hissed, giving the school shirt another hard tug until it made a ripping sound. Blaise started in surprise, Neville grinning viciously up at him and then pulling again, the shirt tearing off of Blaise's back in two pieces. “Fuck him hard.”
“What are you, then?” Blaise asked, fingers itching to throw the boy on the floor and spread his creamy thighs wide.
“Just fuck him hard,” Neville repeated, growling lowly.
Breath coming in harsh pants, Blaise grabbed Neville's shoulders. “Get out of the way or I'm going to be fucking you, bunny. Hard. Very fucking hard.” Neville just stared at him, head tilted back, eyelids heavy, cheeks flushed. And then the smile, wide, grinning deranged madness that had Blaise's entire body tense with want.
“Show me how hard you are with Harry, then we'll talk,” Neville said, hands reaching for Blaise's pants. Blaise could only stare down at the boy while Neville rapidly undid his clasp and tore his fly down. Neville's impossibly blue eyes widened, his grin falling while he parted his lips in awe. “Maybe not, Zabini... I don't think I'd survive...” the blond whispered, pale hand disappearing beneath the band of Blaise's underwear to run tripping fingers over his huge straining length. “Holy fuck... wow...”
The light touches and small noise falling from Neville's sweet mouth were very much driving Blaise wild. Blaise wet his lips, eyes glancing only a few feet away where Harry was whimpering and humping against the desk. Fucking Potter would get Blaise in a world of hurt with a werewolf. Fucking Neville—Well, there would probably be a different, equally terrible hurt getting too close to the sweet, blushing thing... One that seemed far more dangerous and enticing all at the same time.
“Shit,” Harry swore, head jerking up to stare wide eyed at the door. “You fuckers better run. Like now.”
Bristling, Blaise turned as well, Neville cocking his head to the side to listen. They both flinched at the same time, a low gravelly howl rising up in the distance. Not a wolf howl that rang clear and melodic. No, very much made through the vocal cords of a man—a very furious werewolf trying to figure out where his smallest, weakest pup was at the moment.
Blaise had thought that Remus Lupin was not intimidating. That one primal, terrifying call changed his mind, his once heated senses freezing instantaneously. It was time to go. Now.
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Sleeping Dogs II