Neville's hands were trembling. He held a toad's leg over his cauldron, being fully aware of what would happen if he dropped it. Heavy smoke, some sparks, maybe a little explosion. Nothing you would usually expect a healing potion to do. But the most important thing: it would probably get him what he wanted.
Neville unclasped his fingers and waited. First, there was a bright spark, just as expected. A Hufflepuff girl shrieked nervously when the cauldron started to spit balls of smoke into the air, seemingly trying to hit students on purpose. Neville stood next to his cauldron, wand in hand, trying not to look guilty.
It didn't work, of course. It never did. Whenever a disaster like this happened during the seventh graders’ potions class, Snape knew immediately who was to blame.
"Longbottom," Snape snarled. "I see you have failed yet again, what a surprise. If you would at least be so kind as to vanish that sorry excuse for a potion?"
Now Snape was just taunting him, as if he liked to watch Neville fail. Which he probably did, he seemed to get a great deal of pleasure from it. Neville raised his wand nervously, he hands shaking. He was trying hard to remember a vanishing spell, wishing for it to work.
It did, kind of. However, it did not only vanish the smoke, but also his cauldron, the desk and a few spare ingredients that had been lying on it. Neville closed his eyes, knowing full well what was going to happen now.
"Detention, Longbottom. The usual time."
When Neville opened his eyes again, Snape had already turned his back on him and was now hovering over Malfoy's cauldron, praising him for his perfect example of a healing potion.
"Sorry, Neville," Hermione whispered next to him. "But you should have known that a toad's leg would cause this reaction. We learned about that last week."
Indeed, he did know. He tried hard not to smile to himself and apologized to Hermione instead. He had gotten exactly what he wanted.
The whole day Neville had been anxiously awaiting his detention. He expected the usual treatment: getting to scrub cauldrons or some other horrifying task like sorting bugs or ripping spider legs from their tiny bodies (the most disgusting thing he had ever done and a sure way to induce arachnophobia). It was not pleasant at all, but it was definitely worth it. Because maybe the task itself wasn't actually nice, but for a short period of time, Neville would get what he had been dreaming about for a long time: Snape's attention.
He wasn't sure when it had started. When he first came to Hogwarts, he had been awful at Potions and would dread Snape's temper. However, after a couple of years, he had found out that he wasn't actually that bad at potions if he tried and just ignored Snape’s snide remarks. But then, when detention and getting yelled at had happened less often, he realized he was missing it. Not necessarily being treated badly by Snape, but being treated by him at all, being seen.
He knew it didn't make any sense. Who would fake being a loser at potions just to get closer to Snape of all people? Well, he would, and he had stopped being ashamed about it a while ago. After all, nobody had to know that Neville found his Potions professor strangely attractive. Besides, people thought Neville was weird anyway. It wasn't like he had a chance of there ever being more between him and Snape than the usual relationship between a student and his teacher (who hated said student and would do anything to make their life miserable).
This day was different, however. When Neville entered the potion's classroom, it was completely empty except for the usual desks and chairs. No cauldrons, no ingredients, nothing indicating which task Neville would be getting up to today. Even Snape was nowhere to be seen.
Neville stood around for a few minutes, waiting for anything to happen. He looked at his watch. He had been right on time, but now it was ten minutes past seven. Where was Snape? He had never left Neville waiting before, he would always be there when Neville arrived.
Another ten minutes later, Neville was seriously considering just leaving. He felt a little disappointed that he might not get to see Snape again today, but he also had an uneasy feeling about what might happen if he left now. Detention with Snape was one thing, but he didn't want to get into real trouble. Seemingly not showing up to detention would probably result in confrontation with Professor McGonagall and Neville was not looking forward to that, even if he was in the right and Snape just didn't show up. He decided that he should wait just a few more minutes.
It was almost 8 o'clock when the doors to the Potion's classroom suddenly burst open. Snape stormed in, but he stopped dead in his tracks when he spotted Neville sitting at his desk, reading his Charms book quietly.
"Longbottom! What are you doing here?"
"… Detention?” Neville stammered. “You said the usual time... and you weren't there... so I waited for you?" He made his statement seem more like a question, cursing himself in his head for sounding so stupid all the time.
Something shifted in Snape's face. Neville had studied him long enough to know that he wasn't pleased with the answer.
"That is not what I was asking, Mr Longbottom." Suddenly, Snape's voice sounded calm and calculated. Neville took a deep breath, preparing for the worst.
"You have been a hopeless case in Potions class from the moment you first entered this room. Over the past 6 years, I have continually reminded you how much of a failure you are. However, you seem to not care about the fact that you will never amount to anything in this field. Why do you continue to take Potions class? Is it just to make my life miserable?"
"No, I would never do that!" Neville exclaimed. Only afterwards he realized how weird that might sound. He leaned back in his chair, dreading Snape's reaction.
Snape was getting closer now, standing right in front of Neville's desk. He was so close that Neville caught a whiff of the smell that he had come to associate with his professor. Herbs, spices and something distinctively masculine. He took a deep breath.
"Then why do you continue to take my class?" Snape asked again, slowly. He leaned onto the desk, getting even closer. Neville had a hard time concentrating when Snape was this close to him. He tried to remind his brain that this was definitely not the right time to be daydreaming about Snape leaning in just a little bit closer and his lips... No, definitely not the right time. Now it was time to focus on making it out of this room, preferably alive and in one piece.
"I didn't expect there to be an answer to my question," Snape continued. Neville couldn't even remember a question being asked. "Very well. I will talk to the headmistress to ensure that you will not be taking Potions anymore."
"No! Please don't!" Neville yelled before thinking about it. Even afterwards, he couldn't seem to regret his little outburst. Not being in Potion's class would mean that he wouldn't get to see Snape anymore. Sure, he might see him at dinner or in the halls, but what was that compared to being this close to him during detention, getting Snape all to himself, even if it was just for an hour or two a week. Neville didn't know what he would do if someone dared to take this away from him.
Snape raised an eyebrow. "No, Mr Longbottom? Is there any specific reason for your... Disobedience?"
Neville knew better than to answer this question. I have a huge, stupid crush on you might not be the answer Snape wanted to hear. It was rather the answer that would get him expelled on the spot.
"I see," Snape continued. "I will make some arrangements. You can leave now." He made a quick gesture, as if he was trying to swat away a fly and turned around, walking up to the front of the classroom, not paying any more attention to Neville.
The boy was devastated. He tried not to let it show when he packed up his books and quietly left the room, shooting one last longing glance at Snape's back. That was it, then. If he was not allowed to take Potions anymore, maybe it would give him some distance. Maybe he would finally be able to get over his crush. But he knew deep down that he wouldn't, and that he would only be missing Snape more each day.
That night, Neville cried himself to sleep. He wasn’t proud of it and he hoped that the others couldn’t hear him. But he just couldn’t help it. The thought of never seeing Snape again, and even worse, never being seen by him, was crushing him, eating him up inside until there was nothing left but sadness (he might have been exaggerating a tiny bit, but he was heartbroken and he felt like he should be allowed to sulk a little).
The dreams were the worst. In his dream, he was back in the Potions classroom. He was sitting at his desk, shivering while Snape hovered over him. Only this time, Snape was not yelling. He was talking softly, telling Neville all the things he could do to him. And Neville listened eagerly, telling Snape with his eyes that he was willing to do anything his teacher wanted.
Snape was still talking. Neville couldn’t make out any clear words, but Snape was getting even closer, and there were his lips, right in front of Neville’s face like he could just reach out and –
And that was when he woke up. Suddenly, the warmth he had felt was just gone and it had left him empty. Neville rolled over, not even bothered by his erection that dreams of Snape resulted in by default at this point. He burrowed his head in his pillow and wished he could go back in time and change what had happened.
It was the next Tuesday and it was time for Potions class. Neville had not officially heard from Professor McGonagall that he would not be attending Potions anymore, but he figured that Snape just assumed he had made his point clear enough. Neville considered just showing up for the class anyway because after all nobody had officially told him he was not supposed be there. However he did not want to go there just to be sent away. It would feel like being rejected by Snape yet again, and he just couldn't deal with that right now.
Instead, when it was time for Potions to start, Neville found himself lying in his bed, staring up at the ceiling. The ceiling was quite boring, but so was he. He was too boring, that was why Snape would never notice him (and Snape was his teacher, but he knew that wasn't exactly a problem. After all everybody knew that there had been something going on between Madam Hooch and Cho Chang last year and nobody had really cared. It had certainly not been a huge scandal, not after that situation with Hagrid the year before.)
Maybe Neville should try to be less boring. He could try out a new hairstyle? Get some new fancy clothes? Make sure Snape had no choice but notice him? No, that was not a good idea. He felt like Snape wouldn't even spare him a second glance if he died his hair pink and started wearing miniskirts. Maybe he might get a raised eyebrow or a mocking comment, but that wouldn't bring him any closer to reaching his ultimate goal.
Neville had spent countless nights lying awake, thinking about being with Snape, being able to call him his boyfriend, and of course having sex with him. That was an intriguing thought, indeed. Even now Neville had to concentrate on not getting hard just by imagining Snape's body on his.
In his mind, he saw the muscular body of the other man over him, strands of black hair falling into his eyes. He was all over Neville, making his whole body tingle with excitement. And there were those lips, covering every inch of him with kisses and especially -
There was no helping it. Neville got his dick out of his trousers that had started feeling tight anyway and started working on himself, while pretending that it was Snape's hands that were giving him pleasure. He tried to keep in his breathless moans, fearing that someone might hear him call the other man's name.
Afterwards, Neville felt even worse than he had before. Sure, his body felt somehow satisfied, but his heart was still in distress. He felt a tear run down his cheek and wiped it away. He should not be crying about Snape. But he felt hopeless knowing that Snape would never touch him like this. It was like his life had lost its purpose and only Snape could help bring it back.
Neville had considered skipping dinner that night, but he was too hungry to continue staying in his room and trying to block out the rest of the world. He went down to the Great Hall, hoping nobody would notice that he had been crying. It seemed to work fine. Everyone left him alone while he quickly downed his food, eager to get back into bed to indulge in some more self-pity.
When dinner was over, he was one of the first students to get up and leave the Great Hall. On his way up the stairs to Gryffindor Tower, he stopped dead in his tracks when someone called his name. "Mr Longbottom." The voice was quiet and cutting, sounding not pleased at all. Neville would recognise that voice anywhere.
"Yes, Sir?" He responded, turning around to find himself eye to eye with the man he had been thinking about all afternoon. Nope, not the right time to go back to thoughts about feeling those strong hands on his dick. Neville felt himself blush furiously.
"You missed my class today, Longbottom."
Neville was confused for a second. "But you said -"
"I say detention tomorrow, Mr Longbottom. The usual time. I expect you to be on time for your class on Friday."
Neville couldn't do anything but nod. He was totally taken aback by Snape's reaction. Snape had made it very clear that he didn't wish to see Neville in his classroom anymore. Why had he changed his mind? Or was this just a new way of taunting Neville?
Neville watched Snape walk away, the black cloak caressing the frame of his body as he walked, until he was out of sight. Then, Neville continued to make his way up the stairs, thoughts racing through his mind.
His first reaction would have been to burst out in laughter out of pure happiness. He was allowed to take Potions class, he even got detention again, so he would be getting some alone time with Snape. However, something felt odd about this. But when he thought about it, Neville didn't really care. He got to see Snape and that was all he'd asked for. He was the happiest he had been in days.
Detention couldn't come quickly enough. Neville wiped his sweaty hands on his trousers nervously before he pushed open the door to the Potions classroom. It looked the same as last time, which meant that it didn’t look like it usually would if Snape had prepared it for detention. This time however, the man himself was there, sitting behind his desk in the front, apparently grading some papers. He was scribbling down on them with a red pen, frowning. Neville winced in sympathy with whatever poor students was getting a T on their paper.
"Sir?" Neville asked when Snape didn't look up at first. "I am here for my detention," he added when there was still no reaction from Snape. That caused a response, at least.
"Sit." Snape gestured towards an empty desk in the front row. He still didn't look at Neville, and silence settled around them again after he had sat down.
It took a few minutes for Neville to work up the courage to speak. "Excuse me, Sir," he said. "What am I supposed to do here?”
Snape got up in a swift motion. He moved to stand directly in front of Neville's desk. The way he looked down at him brought back the memories of last week. Neville took a deep breath in to mentally prepare himself for whatever was going to happen.
However, he did not expect this. "Why are you here, Mr Longbottom?"
"You gave me detention, Sir?" He had no idea what Snape was getting at.
"That is true. However, the question is: why do you seem to find a way to get detention almost every week?"
"I'm just..." Neville was lost for words for a moment. "I'm sorry, Sir, I am just not very good at Potions, but I'm trying." That lie was so obvious that he felt his insides cringe, but of course he couldn’t tell Snape the truth.
"That's nonsense. You have been deliberately messing up your Potions for years. Now tell me, Longbottom, why are you so keen on failing my class and getting detention all the time?"
Because I like spending time with you.
Oh no, did he just say that out loud? Neville covered his mouth in shock, willing the words to just go back in and make sure this had never happened. Snape was going to kill him and make sure that his body would never be found.
Snape was still looking at him, no emotion showing on his face. "What did you just say, Longbottom?" He was putting emphasis on his name and Neville shivered slightly.
It was too late to deny it anyway, what had been said could never be unsaid (unless you used a memory spell, but hexing Snape would probably result in even more damage). "I like spending time with you," he repeated. He might as well go all in.
"That is an interesting concept," Snape stated. Neville really wished he could read his emotions. He felt like he was an open book while Snape never revealed what was going through his mind, "I would still be curious to know why."
Neville had no idea how he worked up the courage to say the next sentence. It was probably the feeling of being doomed anyway combined with having kept those thoughts to himself for years. "I have had a crush on you for three years."
That was when something changed in Snape's face. He raised an eyebrow. "Really? You have a crush on me?"
"Umm, yeah, so can you just expel me and get it over with?" Neville asked, feeling uncomfortable under Snape's piercing stare.
"Do you want me to expel you?"
That question didn't manage to get rid of Neville's overall confusion. What was happening here? Was this just a strange dream and he was about to wake up in his bed? Snape totally did not react like Neville had expected him to.
"Of course I don't want to be expelled, Sir, but I figured -" he started, but Snape interrupted him.
"What would you like me to do to you instead?"
"Kiss me," Neville whispered under his breath, throwing the last shred of caution into the wind.
"What did you say?" Snape crowded in even closer to him.
"Kiss me," Neville repeated, louder this time. His voice was still shaking.
When he suddenly felt warm lips on his, his brain took a while to process that information. Was Snape really kissing him? It was different from everything Neville had ever imagined. Snape's lips were soft and the kiss was gentle, sweet, as if Neville was a delicate little thing that could break any time.
After the kiss was over, Neville took a moment before he opened his eyes. He didn't want this to end. When he finally looked up, Snape's face was still hovering over him, closed off and unreadable.
"Is this a dream?" Neville asked, bewildered.
"I doubt it," Snape answered. "I never get to have you in my dreams. I never get any closer than this." He was so close that Neville could feel his breath on his face. Had Snape just basically confirmed that he was having dreams about Neville as well? He had to pinch himself to convince himself that this was in fact real and not a dream.
"What would you like to happen in your dreams?" Neville inquired with a sudden boost of confidence. This was real, Snape was actually talking as if there was a possibility of him and Neville being together. He was on top of the world and nothing could stop him.
At least that was what he thought, but he was of course proven wrong. “We shouldn't be doing this.” Snape sighed. He leaned back and Neville felt all the warmth leave him abruptly. He sank back into his chair, all of his joy suddenly vanished. Silence settled around them, making Neville even more uncomfortable with every ragged breath he took. He couldn't help it, his body was still full of adrenaline from being in a compromising situation with his teacher - the teacher he had been fantasizing about for years!
Said teacher was still standing in front of him, silently watching him, his face closed off so Neville had no idea what he was thinking. He had clasped his hands behind his back. Maybe he had to restrain himself so he wouldn't touch Neville again. Or maybe his imagination was just running wild because he had no idea where this was going.
Snape was the one to finally break the silence. “You should leave now,” he whispered so low it was hard to make out the words.
“But -” Neville started to protest, but he stopped immediately when he looked up at Snape. His face may not be easy to read, but his eyes were dark, almost angry. He looked really scary like this. Neville scrambled out of his chair as quickly as he could. Better not give Snape any ideas, maybe he would expel Neville after all. He grabbed his bag, almost running out of the room. Just before he closed the door, he risked one last glance back at Snape. The man was still standing right where he had left him, only now he had buried his face in his hands. Neville couldn't help but feel sorry for him, but he knew that in this moment, there was nothing he could do. Snape had told him to leave and Neville knew that in times like these, it was best to follow his orders. He would need to wait until the next Potions lesson to see Snape again, and maybe he would get the opportunity to talk to him afterwards. But Snape would probably never talk to him again after Neville had kissed him.
He had kissed him! Neville had to lean against one of the solid stone walls to steady himself. Snape had totally been the one to initiate the kiss. Even though it had been so short, Neville could still feel Snape's touch lingering on his own lips. He lifted his hand up to his touch, still not quite sure about what had just happened. Snape had been so gentle, but rough at the same time. And Neville's only thought was pondering the question if and when he might get to do this again.
The next morning, Neville didn't remember what exactly he had been dreaming about, but judging from his rather prominent erection, it had involved some explicit sexual content. Neville couldn't help but think back to Snape's lips on his. That lead to more thoughts about other places those lips might fulfil their purpose. Neville bit down on his hand to try and muffle his groans while he strokes himself. He would see Snape again in a few hours during class. Just imagining him standing in front of the class, his face unreadable as ever, maybe sparing Neville an annoyed glance - that did it. Neville felt lust pulsing through him as he found sweet release.
Afterwards, he was quick to clean himself up. Even though he tried to hurry, he was still late for Transfiguration. He didn't even care though. He was satisfied for now, and he couldn't focus on class anyway because he couldn't stop thinking about his favourite teacher - and that was certainly not Professor McGonagall. She might have been a good teacher and a nice person, but she certainly didn't have that special something that made Neville so attracted to Snape. He couldn't put his finger on it, but there was just something about the man that made Neville wish to be wrapped up in those arms - preferably while said man performed various sexual activities with Neville.
However, it was not good to start Potions class with those things in mind. Neville was already jittery with excitement when he entered the classroom. Snape wasn't even there yet. Neville wiped his sweaty hands on his cloak and neatly laid out his book, quill and parchment on the table, trying to keep himself busy.
Obviously, it didn't work well enough. As soon as Snape walked in, Neville stopped, breathless. He couldn't take his eyes off his teacher. Snape strode up to the front desk, barking instructions at the students. The teacher hadn't even interacted with him directly yet, but Neville just had to imagine that voice snapping commands at him in the bedroom and he felt his little friend stiffen under the desk. Stupid body, betraying him at the most unfortunate moments. He quickly made sure that his cloak was covering up any suspicious happenings and tried to think of anything that was not erotic. Grandma naked usually did the trick. Luckily, it also worked this time. Neville willed himself not to look at Snape and started preparing his potion for today, deliberately focusing on the task at hand so his brain would not go down any paths not suitable for class.
That was why Neville made the worst mistake he had ever made during Potions. Alright, maybe not the worst mistake. He had been responsible for Suzie Mackenzie losing her hearing for a week in year four and he had almost blown up the classroom several times, but this time, he hit a new personal low. When Snape announced that time was up and that he would inspect everyone's finished potions, Neville realized that he had done something terribly wrong. While trying to distract himself from Snape's presence and focusing on not getting aroused in class, he had totally forgotten to mess up his potion. Neville had deliberately been messing up each and every one of his potions for years! How could he ever forget about that? It had always been an essential part of his never-ending quest to make Snape notice him.
Neville waited anxiously while Snape made his rounds, as usual pulling an annoyed face while dealing with Gryffindors while nodding approvingly at some of the Slytherins. Finally, it was Neville's turn.
“Longbottom, let's see what brew you have produced today that is not even worth calling a potion”, he sneered. His face fell for a second when he took a longer look at the cauldron. He composed himself again quickly. “You know that I do not condone cheating in my class, Longbottom!”
“But I didn't cheat!” Neville protested, even though he should have known better than to openly object his teacher.
“And a liar as well, Longbottom. I expect to see you in my office after dinner so we can discuss your behaviour in my class.”
It took a second for Snape's words to sink in, but then Neville had to fight against the huge grin that was trying to make its way onto his face. Snape wanted to see him in his office. Neville would get one on one Snape time tonight. It didn't even matter what Snape planned on doing to him, just the prospect of getting to see him made Neville feel like he could fly (which he couldn't, flying lessons had proved that ages ago, but that was certainly not the point).
The whole day, Neville was walking around Hogwarts on a high. Even Lavender Brown asked how he could be so damn cheerful. But Neville couldn't help it, he felt like his moods were depending solely on Snape lately, and today Snape had decided to make him feel good. Considering how suggestive that sounded… Neville really hoped that Snape would make him feel even better later.
Neville even took all of the necessary precautions. Although the chance of something actually happening was slim at best, Neville took a shower before dinner and made a great deal of cleaning all important parts of his body. He needed to be prepared, no matter what happened later in Snape's office.
At dinner, Neville was so nervous that he couldn't sit still. He forced himself to eat at least a bowl of soup. A growling stomach was not sexy and it might disturb him later.
After dinner was finally over, Neville hurried to leave the Great Hall. Everybody gave him sympathetic glances, probably assuming that he feared his encounter with Snape and that he was hurrying to just get it over with. He prayed to God that nobody knew what was actually going on inside his head.
Neville stopped in front of Snape's office and took a deep breath. He knocked on the door and waited for the sharp “Come in!” before he entered.
There he was, Snape in all of his glory, sitting behind his desk and eyeing Neville with a blank expression. “Sit,” Snape instructed and Neville did as he was told. He tucked his hands underneath his thighs to keep his fingers from trembling.
“I am still wondering, Longbottom” – Snape put more emphasis on the name, as if he enjoyed saying it. Neville certainly didn't think about how it would sound if Snape moaned his name – “How you of all people managed to brew a perfect bone-breaker potion.”
Neville considered his options. Judging from his reaction in class, Snape assumed that he had cheated somehow. He hadn't, but would his teacher believe that? He could probably also tell Snape the whole truth. The last time, being honest had had a rather surprising, but still amazing outcome. However, Neville felt like admitting out loud that he had messed up potions on purpose for years would be on another level of wrong for his professor who took his teachings so seriously. He settled for a half truth in the end. “I just followed the instructions,” he said, trying to appear innocent.
“For some reason, that's not believable,” Snape conducted. “Listen, as I told you during our rather interesting conversation yesterday, I am aware that you have been messing up your potions on purpose.” Shit, Neville had totally forgotten about that part of their conversation. Somehow, there had been more important parts to ponder about. “The question now is: why would you suddenly stop? You do realise that it seems a little suspicious.”
Oh. That was not what Neville had been expecting. “I just forgot,” he stammered. “I just had too many other things on my mind, so -”
“Other things?” Snape inquired. He looked almost amused now. Maybe he had not ordered Neville into his office to punish him after all?
“You,” Neville whispered under his breath. It was hopeless denying it, he had fallen head over heels for Snape and there was no way the other didn't know about that yet.
Still, Snape looked surprised at Neville's sudden honesty. “Me? Please elaborate,” he requested.
“I was just…” Well, Neville had already crossed the line way too many times already in the past few days; there was no reason not to take a huge leap over it again, just to see where he would land. “I was thinking about what you might do to me,” he said, trying to look all innocent. He had close to zero experience with flirting, but he had read some books. There were a few Muggle novels his grandmother had left lying around that had taught Neville a great deal about male behaviour and how he could make it work for himself. Now, it was his chance to test those theories in real life.
“And what did you imagine me doing to you?” Snape continued. He was standing right in front of Neville now, almost towering over him.
Neville felt his knees go weak. He could almost feel the heat radiating off Snape's body, matching his own, weaving their very own cocoon of sexual tension. “Well, first I thought about you touching me,” he said, his breathing getting more and more ragged while Snape inched closer slowly.
“Like this?” Snape placed his hand on Neville's shoulder. He felt as if he was on fire, even the smallest of touches making his body go crazy.
“Not really,” he responded nevertheless.
Snape seemed to understand. “What about this?” He cupped Neville's cheeks gently with his hands, placing his lips on Neville's.
The pure innocence of the kiss took Neville by surprise. It was so soothing, calming down all the restless energy inside him. It didn't cure his arousal though, so he pressed closer to Snape, silently begging for more.
Snape understood his clue, of course he did. But he kept his movements slow, deliberate, as he moved his hands from Neville's cheek, all the way down to the front of his cloak so he could unclasp it. His lips were still on Neville's, his tongue exploring his mouth achingly slow. The cloak fell to the floor with a loud thump. Snape began unbuttoning Neville's shirt just as slowly, lightly touching Neville's chest as he went, making it even harder for him to breathe.
Snape’s mouth disconnected from Neville's suddenly. He took in a ragged breath, desperate to get some much needed air into his lungs. “You can touch me, you know,” Snape whispered before he started leaving little kisses on Neville's neck. His voice sounded as affected by this as Neville felt, much deeper than usual. He took the opportunity immediately, loosening the fists he didn't even realise he had formed. Carefully, he placed his hands in Snape's hair, pulling lightly, making the other man groan quietly. Wow, he never knew he would be able to elicit such sweet noises from somebody. These sounds went straight down to Neville's little friend, making him even harder. He pressed his body closer to Snape instinctively.
Snape just chuckled at his eagerness. “Can't wait, can you?” He had finished unbuttoning Neville's shirt, letting it fall to the ground next to his cloak. He undid his own cloak as well, standing in front of Neville just dressed in his dark shirt and tight black trousers that made Neville's mouth water. He needed to get Snape naked as soon as possible.
That didn't prove to be easy though because Snape seemed to have something else in mind. Now that he had Neville shirtless, his hands went down to Neville's pants and that was certainly a way to make sure he couldn't form a single coherent thought anymore. He could just watch with a mixture of excitement and arousal as Snape opened the button of Neville's trousers, pulling them down, leaving him in just his short briefs. They could not hide his obvious erection. Neville should probably have felt weird standing there, in Snape's office, almost completely naked, but in this moment, the only thing he could think of was getting Snape into the same state of undress - and even more.
Neville started pulling at Snape's shirt impatiently, almost ripping it apart when it just wouldn't come off. Some of his urgency seemed to rub off on Snape; he finally stopped doing everything so tantalisingly slow, hurrying to take off his shirt and trousers. Neville stopped for a second to stare at his body and just appreciate him, trying to commit the picture to memory. He was even better-looking than Neville had dreamed of, his body defined by lean muscles and the slight hint of a six pack. Neville might have been drooling a little.
He longed to feel that body against his own, touch and explore all of it. Tentatively, he reached out a hand and placed it on Snape's chest. His breath hitched when he noticed Snape's heart was beating fast, almost as erratic as Neville's own. Snape's calm attitude had been pretend; he seemed to be just as affected as Neville himself.
Neville really didn't know what to do with this realization. It hit him that Snape wanted exactly the same thing he did, but what did he want exactly? He stilled, trying to find the right words for his request, wishing for Snape to just take over again.
“Are you okay?” Snape asked in a low voice.
Neville nodded immediately. He was more than okay, this was all he'd been dreaming of for years.
“What do you want?” Snape continued, caressing Neville's back lightly with his fingers. Even the smallest of touches made his skin tingle.
“You,” he whispered, not being able to articulate his wishes. His imagination was running wild, trying to portray every single scenario of what might happen. It all stopped though when Snape caught Neville in a breathtaking kiss which made it way too easy to just stop thinking altogether. His knees were going week and he had to grab Snape's arm to steady himself. From there, he let his hands wander, finding their own path, traveling all the way down his chest, around his sides and settling on his lower back.
Meanwhile, Snape apparently had something different in mind. He carried on kissing Neville, distracting him with the almost intoxicating movements of his tongue. That was why Neville didn't pay much attention to Snape's wandering hands at first. Sure, it felt nice, but his body was tingling all over anyway. Having Snape's fingers trace patterns on his lower back was just an added bonus. However, it turned into much more when those fingers were suddenly tracing the hem of Neville's briefs, slowly pushing them down until Snape could cup Neville's behind, letting them fall to the floor. And suddenly, he was completely naked, pressed against Snape's body who was just in his underwear, the fabric rubbing up against Neville's dick, giving him some much needed friction. He moaned, wishing for Snape to just do something, touch him.
When Snape finally did that, Neville’s legs almost gave out under him. There was a hand on his dick, rubbing him in slow motions, and it felt so much better than when Neville did it himself. He noticed that Snape pushed him around a little, turning him so that his butt was resting against a cool surface. Realisation dawned on him that Snape was about to have sex with him against his desk, right here in his office. Neville had never been this aroused before.
Neville felt his insides quiver when Snape picked up the pace, touching him just right, driving him closer and closer to the edge. When it stopped, he felt as if he might cry out in frustration. Why did Snape stop when he was so close? It didn't take him too long to realise why.
It was warm, wet and it felt wonderful. Neville tried to look down to where Snape's full lips were covering his length, but in the end he had to close his eyes and concentrate so he wouldn't just come on the spot. He wanted to stay at this high for as long as possible.
Which apparently was not very long because when Snape twisted his tongue just right, Neville couldn't hold back any longer. He let out a loud moan (possibly calling the other man's name) when his orgasm hit him hard and fast. His was still shaking when Snape stood up again, pulling Neville close against his chest. “How was that?” Snape whispered, his voice rough because he had just sucked Neville off! He still couldn't believe it. He might have been grinning like a maniac, but he didn't care, he was just so happy and satisfied, feeling on top of the world.
His face seemed to be enough of an answer for Snape because he just chuckled and pressed a chaste kiss to Neville's lips. “I'm glad I could be of service,” he smirked.
Suddenly Neville realized that Snape had not gotten off yet. “Let me return the favour,” he offered, reaching out for Snape's body.
Snape stopped him by taking his hand, intertwining their fingers. “It's fine, don't worry about it. Maybe next time.”
Next time? No, Neville wanted to touch Snape right now, feeling drunk on sex and love and wanting to make the other man feel the same.
“Neville.” Snape cupped Neville's face with his hands, forcing him to look up to him. Had he just called him by his first name? He had no idea why that made his heart jump the way it did. “It's almost curfew. You need to go back to your dormitory.”
It was hard for Neville to grasp a clear thought. He hadn't even realised how much time has passed. Snape was right, obviously, and Neville didn't want to get into trouble. But he also didn't want to leave Snape when he had finally reached his goal to get him. He was still trying to figure out a way that would make him able to stay, maybe even spend the night, but Snape had already put his clothes back on and was eager to help Neville into his, so he gave it up as a lost cause. But there was a glimmer of hope, after all Snape had mentioned a next time.
Neville gathered all his courage. He turned around when he was at the door, letting his gaze wander over the mess he had made on the desk, Snape's messy hair and those curious stains, all prove to what had happened here. It would probably be gone the next time he visited, but it would all be kept forever in Neville's memory. “So, um… can I come back sometime?” he asked shyly.
A genuine smile started blooming o Snape's face. “Tomorrow, same time. And maybe we can try out a different facility next time. Even though I really like this office, I feel like my bedroom would be a little more suitable for what I have in mind for you.”
Neville felt his face heat up. His mind was racing, trying to come up with all the different things that Snape might do to him. “I guess we will see each other tomorrow, then?” Snape seemed to take Neville's silence as confirmation.
Neville managed not to nod eagerly, instead throwing Snape a cheeky wink. “See you tomorrow, professor!”