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Combustible	By : Pat Category: Harry Potter > General > General Views: 3317 -:- 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.

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BANG BANG BANG

‘Open up, Snape!’ Neville shouted as he leaned against the portrait entry to Professor Snape’s rooms. Why was the corridor spinning so? He giggled.

BANG BANG BANG

‘Snapeey, come on, open the bloody door,’ he crooned loudly.

WHOOSH---SPLAT

Neville found himself face first on the floor. How’d that happen? Oh, nice. He’d just rest here a while.

‘Mr. Longbottom,’ came a voice of sheer ice, ‘what in Merlin’s name are you caterwauling about?’

Neville forced his head up a bit. Aw. Snape.

Severus Snape glared at the drunken lout on the floor. Every damn year the same thing, the graduating class would sneak liquor into their House party while the faculty would turn a blind eye in a one time only unspoken agreement. Poppy traditionally had Severus prepare enough hangover remedy for the entire seventh year class.

But this, to be faced with the one student who’d nearly driven him mad. Well, this was too much to be borne.

Neville started to flail around a bit in an effort to stand. His feet and legs, though, seemed to have disengaged from his brain’s commands.

He giggled and flopped back down.

Severus grabbed Neville’s legs and dragged him away from the door. He then slammed the door shut.

‘Sleep it off here. Then go back to your dorm. I won’t have you weaving about in the corridors where the first years could see such a disgusting display,’ Snape said glaring down at him.

‘You’re in your nightshirt,’ Neville slurred in some surprise. He’d never seen Professor Snape in anything save his teaching robes. He looked—well, good was the only word for it.

‘It’s two a.m. Of course I am, you twit,’ Snape growled.

Neville finally managed to totter to his feet but swayed a bit in place as though he were on a ship rolling on the open sea.

‘Came to talk to you,’ said Neville, jabbing his finger towards Snape’s chest.

‘Longbottom, you’re incapable of putting two sentences together when sober, I highly doubt you’ll accomplish that act now that you’re totally pissed,’ Snape said with his all-purpose sneer.

Beneath the fuzzy happy feeling anger started to leak upwards and out. Neville took a step forward and took a deep breath.

‘You’re a bastard!’ he spat out. ‘I came to tell you that,’ Neville said as he started to shake with rage.

‘No doubt,’ Snape said dryly. ‘Wait here,’ he commanded.

Neville stood gob smacked. He’d at least expected Snape to punch him.

Snape walked back into his bedroom and opened the linen closet. He grabbed a quilt and returned to his living room. Neville was sprawled on his sofa.

‘If you throw up on that, I’ll turn you into a newt and stuff you into one of my supply jars,’ Snape said equably.

‘I said,’ Neville began loudly as only the truly rat-arsed can, ‘I hate you’you greasy bastard,’ he spat out.

‘I heard you,’ said Snape, shaking out the quilt and putting it over Neville.

‘Well, alright then,’ said Neville, mollified that Snape had acknowledged the insult.

‘You know I’m to be Professor Spout’s apprentice after I graduate, right?’ Neville said with a grin. ‘Thought you’d get rid of me, eh? Well, hard cheese!’ said Neville, falling over on his side while snorting with laughter.

‘I am well aware of the apprentice list that was posted today,’ Snape replied. ‘I consider it one of the most cruel ironies of fate,’ Snape said dryly.

Snape sighed. Maybe he could get a few hour’s sleep. He started to leave the room.

‘I’m thirsty,’ Neville whined from his face down position on the sofa.

‘Bloody marvellous,’ Snape said as he stomped off to the bathroom. He quickly filled a glass and returned to his sitting room.

‘Drink all of this,’ Snape said, shoving the class at his soon-to-be former student.

Neville happily gulped down the water.

Snape took the glass from him.

‘Now, get some sleep,’ he said shortly and turned to leave.

‘I’ve got to pee...’ came the jarring voice of Neville.

Snape stopped midstride.

‘Second door on your left,’ he growled out.

‘Kay,’ said Neville and, dragging his quilt with him, lumbered into the bathroom.

Snape waited impatiently for a few minutes. He heard the door open but Neville didn’t return.

‘Bloody hell,’ said Snape under his breath. He stomped after him.

Snape poked his head around the bathroom. Not passed out on the floor. That was promising.

He walked into his bedroom.

‘Longbottom!’ he roared. ‘Get out of my bed,’ bellowed Snape.

Neville just murmured something inaudible and clutched his quilt tighter.

Snape reached over, shaking Neville’s shoulder none too gently.

‘Get up, you oaf,’ he hissed.

Finally, Snape walked over to his dresser and grabbed his wand. One spell and he could get rid of Longbottom once and for all. No one would notice. He could bury the body parts in his supply jars.

Neville sighed and squirmed around a bit on the bed. Snape squinted a bit at Neville. The boy actually looked---rather appealing

‘God, it’s been too long since I’ve been laid if Longbottom is starting to look good,’ Snape thought in gloominess.

‘Mobilicorpus,’ commanded Snape. Neville’s body gently floated up from the bed and out the door. Snape followed it and watched as he was deposited on the sofa. Neville starto gto gently snore.

Snape rubbed his tired eyes. Time for bed.

Several hours later ~~

Severus snuggled deeper into the arms that held him and his unshaven face rasped across a smooth chest.

‘Mmmph—have I brought someone home last night?’ Snape thought as he struggled back towards consciousness.

Severus’ eyes felt pasty but he forced them open—face to chest with’Longbottom.

‘Bloody buggering hell!’ Severus said, struggling to free himself from the stranglehold that Neville had on him.

Finally, in desperation, he bit down Neville’s shoulder.

‘Ow!’ grunted Neville.

Severus jumped out of bed and shook himself like a ruffled bird.

‘Why’d you do that?’ Neville said in a snuff, ti, tired voice.

‘What do you think you are doing?’ Snape bawled.

‘Sleeping. Oh, I see. The couch was uncomfortable and, well, you do have this large bed. I thought you wouldn’t mind.’ Neville said with a yawn.

‘Well, I bloody well do mind,’ snapped Snape.

Neville had the beginnings of a hangover and wasn’t inclined to be kind.

‘Stop acting like some hysterical maiden aunt. I wasn’t attacking your virtue, I was sleeping,’ and with that flashy repartee Neville flopped back on the pillows.

Severus fumed. He hated it when other people were right.

‘Scoot over,’ Severus said grumblingly.

Neville pulled back the comforter.

Snape struggled to maintain his dignity as he pulled the covers over himself.

‘Don’t be such a cover hog,’ Neville complained, pulling them .
.

‘My bed and my covers,’ said Severus irately yanking the covers back again.

WHAP

Neville stared at Snape in horror, still holding the pillow. Feathers floated in the air around Snape’s head.

Neville started to giggle, then, before he knew it, he was rolling with laughter on the bed.

WHAP WHAP

Counterattack.

Neville stilled momentarily, dumfounded by Snape’s attack. Then he let out a battle yell. The fight was on.

For several minutes, Neville poured his heart sou soul into hammering his opponent, trying, on some level, to achieve retribution of some sort. He would make Snape pay for every hurled insult, humiliation and detention he’d ever suffered at Snape’s hands.

All of Neville’s pain and anger floated to the surface as he continued to try and pound his opponent into the ground, or rather, bed. A steady flow of increasingly foul curses poured out of his mouth.

Neville continued wildly swinging his pillow until he was exhausted. Finally, he fell backwards on the bed panting, dropping his now torn and tattered pillow.

Snape swatted Neville several more times but, getting no further reaction, Snape finally collapsed alongside his former student.

All was silent in the room save for their heavy breathing which gradually slowed.

‘Feeling better?’ Snape asked.

Neville turned his head on the bed.

‘I am rather,’ he said with a small smirk.

Neville shifted slightly on the bed. There was a delicious scent rising off of Snape. Part of it Snape’s own masculine musk and some herbal sent---either his shampoo or soap. Neville tried to surreptitiously inch closer.

‘Longbottom, are you gay?’ said Snape in a husky drawl.

Neville flushed to the roots of his hair.

‘Why would you ask that?’ he said nervously.

‘It’s been a while for me, dammit, but I think I can still recognize an erection when I see one,’ Snape said dryly, his beady eyes taking in the bulge in Neville’s trousers.

Neville turned his face away towards the wall.

‘I don’t know,’ he said shortly.

‘You don’t...oh, for mercy’s sake. You’re seventeears ars old, Longbottom. Haven’t you gotten laid yet?’ Snape said with derision.

Neville snapped up into sitting position and started to scramble off the bed.

‘I’m going now,’ he mumbled.

Snape grabbed his arm to prevent him from leaving.

‘Answer the question,’ Snape commanded.

Neville turned his face towards Snape, his eyes suspiciously bright.

‘No,I haven’t,’ he said bitterly. ‘I’m a failure at that as well. No one wants to be seen dating poor, pathetic Neville. And who can blame them really?’

Snape was a bit taken aback. Longbottom was quite improved over the last year or so. His face had cleared up, and most of the baby fat he’d carried for years nos now gone. With his longer hair-style and his creamy, alabaster skin he’d become quite a pretty boy.

‘Longbottom, believe me, I’ve gotten my leg over worse in my time,’ said Snape, eyeing Neville thoughtfully.

‘Really?’ Neville asked hopefully.

‘Yes, really,’ said Snape, his mouth twitching a bit as if a smile were trying to escape.

‘You’re a—’ tentatively began Neville.

Snape stretched and yawned.

‘Shirtlifter, queer, bent, yes, Longbottom, I am,’ said Snape in a matter-of-fact manner.

Neville licked his lips. He looked down at Snape, who was studying him quite intently.

Neville felt like he was moving in slow motion as he reached out and touched Snape on his chest. His fingertips ran over the nightshirt, looking for Snape’s nipples. He found one of the small nubs and brushed the tips of his fingers against it. Snape said nothing but shifted restlessly.

Emboldened, Neville unbuttoned the front of the nightshirt, his hands trembling as he did so. He then slid one of his hands into the nightshirt, touching skin at last. His fingers rubbed the nipple to hardness and then reached over to give the same treatment to its fellow.

Snape swatted away Neville’s hand.

Neville quickly removed his hand, embarrassed by the rejection.

Snape sat up and pulled his nightshirt up and over his head and threw it over the side of the bed.

Neville stopped breathing. Professor Snape was naked---in bed---with him.

Snape lay back down and put one arm under his head. Neville glanced down and saw that Snape was already half-hard. He gasped softly.

Snape was all lean, hard muscle. He had very little body hair except what was on his head and at his groin. The cock nestled in the black hair surrounding it made Neville’s own cock throb. His pants were beginning to feel uncomfortably tight.

Neville reached out more boldly and ran his hand from Snape’s chest to his flat stomach and paused there. Snape said nothing but his black eyes glittered.

Neville stroked Snape’s cock and it soon filled and lengthened under his attentions. Snape arched into his touches. Neville smiled and scooted closer.

Snape’s hand came up and circled Neville’s as he pumped Snape’s erection several times.

‘Clothes. Off. Now.’ Snape hissed at Neville.

Neville didn’t need a second invitation. This was like his best wet dream. His fingers felt clumsy as he sent buttons spraying off of his shirt. His pants tangled on his legs as he grunted and tore at them to get them. He pulled off his socks and then finally when his hands reached his boxers he paused---suddenly shy.

Snape sat up and reached over.

‘Lift up,’ he instructed.

Neville lifted his hips and Snape pulled off his boxers and threw them over the side of the bed.

Neville sat there trembling; his cock hard and leaking.

‘Nice,’ Snape said and Neville’s heart almost exploded with excitement.

Snape started to run his hands over Neville’s body, leaving no curve or surface untouched save for the pulsing cock. Snape’s hands went to either side of Neville’s head, grasping his hair none too gently, and pulled him in for a kiss.

Neville had been kissed several times in his life but nothing like this aggressive and possessive attack of Snape’s.

Snape’s tongue snaked into Neville’s mouth, demanding and hot. Neville responded by opening his mouth further, taking everything Snape could give him. Snape withdrew and bit lightly at Neville’s lower lip. Neville moaned and then shoved Snape back down onto the mattress.

Neville needed this now. He straddled Snape’s body and began to hump his left leg. Snape grunted and re-aligned Neville so that they were cock to cock.

‘If you’re attempting frottage, Longbottom, do it properly or not at all,’ Snape said in a smoky voice, gripping Neville’s shoulders hard.

Neville was beyond words by this point; their leaking cocks were creating a lovely sensation that drove everything else from his mind. His hips started a thrusting rhythm that Snape echoed.

Snape grabbed Neville’s buttocks to pull him in more closely. Neville let out an agonized yowl of pleasure. Snape laughed.

The headboard of the bed started to smack against the wall with the strength of Neville’s thrusts and Snape’s counter thrusts.

Neville felt like the top of his head was about to blow off. Wanking couldn’t hold a candle to this sweating, writhing maelstrom of pleasure.

Snape started to bite Neville’s neck and shoulders when he could reach him. Neville growled---the small phelphelped to focus him. On his next thrust he bit into Snape’s neck hard enough to draw blood.

The sound coming out of Snape only got louder. He was now moaning, screaming and scratching at Neville’s back and blood was already flowing from multiple deep scratches.

Neville’s balls started to tighten and he knew he was close.

‘I’m going to come,’ gasped Neville.

Taking that as a signal Snape suddenly stilled and his cock erupted over their chests and bellies. One, two, three painfully delicious spurts. Snape screeched, digging his nails into Neville’s buttocks. That was enough to send Neville rocketing over the edge himself.

Semen shot out of Neville for what seemed like forever but was in reality only seconds. Neville’s face as he came was a mixture of pain and pleasure and he collapsed on top of Snape as soon as he’d finished.

Snape’s arms were wrapped around Neville but neither man seemed inclined to move. Their breathing finally settled down and Snape shifted and Neville, recognizing the non-verbal cue, rolled off of his lover to let him breathe.

‘Accio Wand’ came the hoarse voice of Snape. He’d screamed himself raw. His wand flew over to the bed, where Snape did a quick cleaning charm of himself and Neville. Then he placed the wand on the night table.

Neville felt groggy and sleepy. He should really say something, shouldn’t he? With that thought he sank into sleep with Snape cuddled up against him.

Next morning~~~

Neville awoke to a blinding headache and an empty bed. The bedroom reeked of sex from the night before. His eyes hurt as he cautiously opened them. Bless him. Snape had left an anti-hangover potion beside the bed. Neville swallowed down the vile concoction and felt almost immediately better.

A note sat on the night table with his name on it. Neville cautiously reached over to see what it would say, afraid that Snape was already regretting his indiscretion. The least Snape could have done was tell him face to face. Neville felt sick to his stomach and it wasn’t from the hangover. He left the note unread as he scrambled around looking for his clothes.

He pulled on his clothes and found his shoes underneath the bed. He couldn’t put off reading the note any longer. He opened it with trembling hands.

It read:

Longbottom, if you’re interested in pursuing this, the password to my rooms is ‘chimera’. Sober, if you can manage it.

Severus Snape

Neville whooped and ran out of the room.

tbc
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