Seamus is a Slutmuffin

Chapter 3: Playing Mark Antony
Blaise/Seamus (and actual sex!!! OMG!)
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It had become a routine. It was their mad obstacle course of dodging suspecting classmates and questioning friends, all to obtain that one single moment in the bathroom, or the broom closet, or the dormitory, or an empty classroom or wherever was convenient and blessedly empty. It was risky and sneaky and wrong and Seamus Finnigan loved it. The aspect of being caught, the thrill of knowing that the two of them could be exposed in the middle of their dirty, oh so wrong little meetings, it added a whole new layer to the thrill of Neville and his meetings.

“You still haven’t told anyone yet, have you?” There was a whisper of disappointment in Neville’s voice. Seamus hitched his pants and blushed.

“Nah, but…I’m not ready for…I mean, it isn’t like it…it has nothing to do with you.” Seamus floundered. Neville frowned and winced as his slightly sore jaw protested at the movement.

“Everyone already knows.” He whispered, his voice full of indignation and pain. “Remember you had Malfoy long before you found me. I bet he’s been spreading rampant little rumors all over.” And that was true. Seamus had noticed the beaming, snickering faces of the Slytherins since his little romp with Malfoy. But nobody cared what a Slytherin thought. “And that leaves me as the only reason you aren’t telling anyone.” Neville was blushing now too but Seamus had a feeling it was more of a rush of hurt that caused the color to rise.

“Stop that.” Seamus admonished. “You’re amazing at what you do and you’re handsome to boot, so stop the pity act.” The words were clipped, smart and biting and caused the color to rise even higher in Neville’s cheeks. Seamus sighed. The reason he didn’t want to tell was…complicated. But, with another resigned sigh and a roll of the eyes, Seamus decided that maybe he owed Neville some sort of explanation. “It isn’t because of anyone that you would think. It isn’t because of the Slytherins or the Hufflepuffs or any of the other no-name, faceless students at this school, a majority of those pricks I could just tell to sod off and get on with my life but its…” Seamus took a deep breath. “I don’t want Dean to know.” Which was sort of what this was about to begin with. He had gone to the secluded bathroom by himself because Dean was making goo-goo eyes over Ginny Weasley and the whole idea of that red-headed little twat touching his best friend made Seamus sick to his stomach, and then Malfoy had found him and…Seamus shook his head. Now was not the time to think of statuesque Malfoy and his cool hands and talented mouth and thick, sure cock and…Seamus growled inwardly, sliding a hand across his forehead to clear his mind.

“But Dean’s your best friend, he’s the one you should have told first, not me.”

“Best mate my arse.” He growled. “He wouldn’t know what to do with me. See, Dean’s never really approved of my…flighty personality. He disapproves of the flirt title, dunno why but he does, and if he found out that I’d gone and done something like that with Malfoy of all fucking people in the wizarding world…and then you. Talk about corruption of the innocent,” Neville frowned at that but said nothing, “he would never understand, he would never approve. And the fact that you’re both boys!” Seamus threw his hands up in the air with an exasperated groan. “Hitting him with something like ‘I’m gay’ is one thing, hitting him with something like ‘I’m gay and have proceeded to pleasure myself with not only our hated rival Draco Malfoy, but I’ve also got Neville Longbottom singing the tune as well, isn’t that just jolly, Dean’ is something completely different.”

“Why does Dean’s opinion matter that much?” Neville had managed to get his robes back on and was running his fingers roughly through his hair, trying to get it to look not so tousled. His big eyes, still so innocent despite the things Seamus had seen-and felt!-him do, were glued on Seamus, pure curiosity gleaming in them.

Seamus shrugged. “He’s my best mate and…I dunno…” Dean kissing Ginny, holding her hands and kissing her and running his delicious, perfect, beautifully formed lips along her jaw and down her neck and his hands, those wonderful cocoa colored hands, slipping up and under her top and…Seamus forced his mind to stop, forced himself to stop the clenching in his gut, the bile threatening to overload his senses and have him throwing up all over everything in the cramped broom closet. “Shit, I think…” The jealous clench in his gut twanged again. “I love Dean?” The upswing in his inflection made it a question. Neville shrugged.

“It makes sense.” Seamus shook his head it didn’t make sense, it couldn’t make sense. Dean was straight and Seamus was confused and unhappy because he knew that Dean wouldn’t accept his new choice in fuck-buddies and his mind was simply telling him that he was in love with Dean in order to protect itself.

They were both fully dressed now and Neville’s hair no longer looked like it’d been tugged on mercilessly by pleasure ridden hands. “I’m going to the library.” Neville said, squeezing passed Seamus to the door. “The others are probably there, you coming?” Seamus shook his head. He needed time to review this new wave of emotions that were running rampant through his heart. “Will you becoming to the feast?”

Feast? Seamus realized with a start that it was Halloween. There would be a feast and the choosing of the three Triwizard competitors and Dean and Ron and Harry and stupid smug-faced Ginny and Lavender and the whole mess of Gryffindors would expect him to be there, Seamus blanched. He didn’t want to be around people, he wanted to work through his emotions and figure out his life. He sighed.

“I’ll be down if I get hungry.” And Neville frowned.

“And if they ask?”

“I told you I felt sick and went to the dorm to rest.” Neville nodded dutifully and Seamus smiled. “Thanks, Nev.” And he kissed him on the cheek. “You’re a real friend.” Then they left the small closet and parted ways, Neville scurrying off to the library to find the others, Seamus heading to Gryffindor tower for some well-needed alone time. The walk from the closet to the tower didn’t take long and the Fat Lady gave him no trouble when he delivered the password, she merely smiled meekly and said: “You look like you could use the rest, dear.” Then she swung open and he slipped inside.

He trudged into the dorm, head aching as he tired to keep his mind from showing him Dean and Ginny tangled together in a moment of pure passion. Seamus knew it was his imagination, although Dean was fascinated by the red-head he had never acted on his feelings, and for that, for the moment, Seamus was grateful. He wasn’t sure he would have been able to keep from throwing up if he knew that Dean and Ginny were actually doing it. With a frustrated sigh, Seamus tossed himself on the bed and stared at his sheets. The quiet clicking of the door shutting behind him caused Seamus to jump and whirl around quickly.

“Jumpy, aren’t we, Finnigan?” Blaise Zabini’s voice was silky, smooth, it caused Seamus to shiver. He recovered quickly.

“How’d you get in here?” He asked, face twisting in confusion, he glanced around, making sure that he had indeed come to the Gryffindor rooms, and hadn’t somehow ended up twisted around and gotten into the dungeons. Familiar gold and crimson met Seamus’ seeking eyes.

Blaise’s smile was predatory, confidant, almost a sneer. “First year gave me the password. I figured you’d be up here.” Those slanted eyes, dark and knowing and seductive. There was no question in Seamus’ mind to why Blaise was here, in his room, waiting for him. The dark coil of Seamus’ mind, the sex kitten unlocked so deftly by Malfoy, twisted happily at this newest development, Seamus tried his best to ignore it. “Your friends said you’re always up here brooding, alone. That Dean is worried about you still.” It was said without care, a simple fact sliding off the silky tongue of the dark, beautiful Blaise Zabini.

“And why would my friends talk to you?” Seamus didn’t really care why, he just wanted Blaise to keep talking, while he sorted through the situation. From where he stood-or sat, since Seamus had not moved from his spot on the bed-it was the Malfoy experience all over.

“They didn’t, I overheard them talking about it in the library. They can’t seem to figure out what’s bothering you.” Blaise opened his mouth to continue but Seamus cut him off.

“But you already know what’s bothering me, don’t you? You talked to Malfoy lately?” Blaise’s laugh was low and dark. It frightened and aroused Seamus all at once.

“Well, he was telling the truth. That’s a surprise.”

“Excuse me?”

“Malfoy said he’d had you. I didn’t believe him. According to Malfoy, he’s had everybody.” Dark eyes flashed and a smirk danced across Blaise’s face. “Except me. Malfoy’s never had me.”

It was a bait and Seamus knew it but he took it anyway. “And why is that? I thought you Slytherins stuck together or his blood a pit too pure for you?” Blaise laughed again and Seamus thought for a moment that he could cum just from listening to that laugh long enough. A burnt sienna smile found its way onto Blaise’s face.

“Nothing quite like that. You see, I had him.” And then Blaise was a whole lot closer then Seamus remembered and his breath was ghosting over Seamus’ ear causing the boy to shiver. “I don’t do submission.” And a slender, dark hand was delving into Seamus’ robes to brush against the brunette’s stirring crotch. “Malfoy’s whispers gave me a hunch but it didn’t convince me.” Seamus moaned as the hand continued to stroke him but he managed to stammer.

“You didn’t come up here on a hunch…” His hips flexed upwards and the hand moved in admonition. “So what convinced you?” He couldn’t imagine that anyone could have seen Neville and him, they were always careful and they tried to make sure they had no set pattern so that no one could trace them.

“I saw you and Longbottom.” Seamus shook his head, he couldn’t believe it. “Two days ago, Flitwick’s classroom. You were buttoning your pants he was fixing his robes, anyone with a brain would know what you two were doing.” Blaise’s hand was undoing Seamus’ robes, pushing them off. “Is he a good little fuck?” The words carried a silken bite that made Seamus flinch.

“We haven’t really…” He trailed off and Blaise laughed.

“You two haven’t had sex?” His voice was mocking but still so smooth, Seamus reveled in the danger wrapped up in this boy. There was a tailored cruelty and a cool confidence in Blaise that Seamus was inexplicably turned on by. It was what had drawn him to Malfoy. “Saving your little, Gryffindor innocence? Does he know you’ve already been conquered?” And Blaise’s teeth dug into the fleshy bottom of Seamus’ ear delaying the boy’s response.

“Malfoy didn’t…He and I didn’t either. It was just touching.” For a moment Blaise, the confident, catlike preadator, faltered. His smile was back in place instantaneously.

“Knew he was a liar.” And then Blaise was gone again, back near the door, face placid. “So if you haven’t had sex, Finnigan, what have you done?” Those slanted eyes were watching him carefully, like they were tracking his thoughts. It was obvious that Blaise was only interested in a good lay, this wasn’t a game about numbers to him, this was a game of substance. It was no fun to play Cesar if all the pieces were Brutus’. He was looking for a Mark Antony.

Seamus grinned, he could be Antony, easy. “Lot’s of stuff.” He said, eyes down, coy, hard-to-get. Not easy, not Brutus, but knowledgeable, shy. Blaise seemed to approve. Talking dirty was more his game, it wouldn’t have seemed right coming from a Gryffindor.

“Given a blowjob?” Seamus nodded; blush rising unbidden to his cheeks. “Malfoy didn’t lie about everything then.” A pause, sly and perfect, followed by that perfect sneering smile. “Unless it was Longbottom you sucked off.” Seamus’ bright, all-consuming blush answered for him. “So you are a natural bottom.” And that seemed to please Blaise too. He lifted a perfect hand and crooked his finger to draw Seamus closer. “Did Malfoy rim you?” Seamus’ confusion couldn’t be hidden and that sneering smile painted Blaise’s lips. Perfectly formed lips, lips Seamus wanted to taste, he wondered if they would be as cool and stiff as Malfoy’s had been. “I thought not.” Blaise still seemed to be on the knife’s edge about Seamus. He was horny, that was evident, but he was smart and he knew better then to throw around his body like a fuck machine. Blaise Zabini could never be called a slut, he was a careful, planned conqueror.

But he’d caught Seamus’ interest now and the young Irishman wasn’t giving up so easily. He would not allow Blaise to shuck him off like trash. He looked up at Blaise through his eyelashes, studying the exotic face for a moment before he lifted his head and kissed Blaise. Seamus was in control of the kiss for about a second before Blaise’s hands were on his sides, turning them, pushing Seamus up against the wall, and Blaise’s tongue found a way into Seamus’ mouth. It was thrilling. Blaise’s lips were wonderfully alive and warm; his tongue, though dominating, was willing to play with Seamus’, allowing the Irishman to duel for dominance that he would never possess.

“You really want this, you little slut?” Blaise’s breath was hot against Seamus’ ear. The words were harsh but the tone, still silky as ever, and dripping with lust, causing them to carry no bite. Seamus could only nod. Teeth dug into his neck sharply, drawing a pained hiss and the smallest trickle of blood to surface. And then he was face planting the wall with Blaise’s teeth and lips covering the back of his neck with kisses. Seamus let out a small, unhappy moan. “What’s the matter, didn’t expect me to be gentle, did you? I’m not your chocolate Dean.” And those words struck Seamus funnily. Blaise’s removal of his shirt however distracted him. More bites were trailed down Seamus’ back. Occasionally, Blaise’s kisses would be actual kisses, full of his warm lips and tongue but as soon as Seamus would begin to get used to those, Blaise would add a bite and set him right back on edge. It was maddening and painful and arousing all out once. It wasn’t too long before Seamus found himself pants-less too and Blaise was standing back admiring him with a predatory grin. Seamus shivered, at least he hoped it was admiring. He turned around slowly, back against the wall, eyes wide, breath coming in far too uneven gasps.

Blaise’s eyes flashed. “Where’d you get that, Finnigan?” His blunt fingernails trailed down Seamus’ left side ending at the small scar that adorned his left hip.

“Had a broom accident when I was young.” Seamus smiled. “I hit a tree.” Blaise didn’t smile, just lowered his head to Seamus’ hip and gnawed on the scar gently. It made the boy shiver. But just as quickly as the kiss had started it turned rough, Blaise’s teeth digging into the skin roughly, causing Seamus to moan and buck. At his hip he could hear Blaise chuckle.

“Such a slut for it.” His dark eyes grinned up at Seamus. “You want me in you, slut? You want me to fuck you so hard you beg for mercy?” And the words swept Seamus away, the wrongness in them, the wrongness of everything he’d ever done. He nodded, found himself pushed face down to the bed. Blaise was straddling him, tongue tracing his backbone again, collecting the small droplets of sweat that had collected in the valley of his hips and along his shoulder blades. It made him moan.

And then fingers-oddly slick fingers, long and deft-joined Blaise’s mouth, trailing along Seamus’ backbone, following the path ever southward until his fingers reached Seamus’ ass. He left them there for a moment before very slowly pushing one finger in. Seamus hissed, cursed, bit his tongue to stop himself. It hurt but not so much, he needed to toughen up. The finger didn’t move for sometime, but eventually Blaise’s patience wore out and pulled the finger out only to ram it back in, causing Seamus to hiss again, this time a bit more pleasurably. Three fingers later, Seamus finally felt he was getting used to the feeling of being intruded upon. He could feel Blaise’s smirk against his spine as he got the courage to grind himself backwards, onto Blaise’s fingers, and with a chuckle the dark boy crooked his finger slightly and had Seamus seeing stars.

“Fuck.” Seamus hissed as Blaise rubbed his prostate again.

“I was planning to.” And then Blaise’s fingers were gone and Seamus could hear a cork being popped out of some vial or another before Blaise’s cock was placed at his entrance. Seamus shivered.

“Wait.”

“What?”

“I want to see you.” And Seamus turned slightly on the bed, his grey eyes wide and slightly beseeching. “Is there someway to do this so I can see you?” His own naivety caused him to blush but Blaise didn’t seem to care. He smirked and pushed Seamus off the bed, taking the boy’s place.

“I thought you said you didn’t submit?”

Blaise laughed, his silken voice rolling through the air, wrapping itself all around Seamus. “I’m not submitting to you. You’re going to ride me, Finnigan.” The phrase made Seamus’ eyes widen, his gut clench with unimaginable lust. Spoken like it was, in Blaise’s too smooth voice, the phrase sounded obscene, sexily obscene. It caused shivers to wrack down Seamus’ spine. “Come here.” Seamus did, stumbling across the small distance to the bed with the deftness of a two year old learning to walk. Blaise smiled, hands outstretched, grabbing onto Seamus’ hips, guiding him. “Brace yourself.” The words of warning were uncharacteristic but appreciated as Seamus felt the tip of Blaise’s cock breaching him. His body seized up, muscles tensing to force out the intrusion but Blaise’s lips were on his forehead, coaxing him down, encouraging him to relax. Inch by agonizing inch, Blaise’s cock slipped into Seamus’ tight heat. When he was fully sheathed, he sat, waiting for Seamus to get used to the feeling.

It started as a sharp pain, a burn and an ache that Seamus was sure he would not get used to, but as Blaise got deeper the feeling loosened, the burn was still there but it was more pleasant, the ache dulled to almost nothing, Seamus began to think that maybe he would be able to handle it. And then Blaise pulled a little ways out and slammed back in, his cock brushing Seamus prostate on its path, and all pain was forgotten. It didn’t take long, after that first stroke, for Seamus to get into it, lifting his hips in counter time with Blaise in order to push the boy’s cock deeper within him, for his moans to bubble out in volumes that would have made a Mandrake blush. He was acting like a whore and he didn’t give a flying fuck. And he never would so long as Blaise’s hips kept undulating, so long as his cock could keep brushing against the thinly veiled muscles of Blaise’s stomach, so long as it never ended. But everything ends eventually, and it was only a matter of time before the sensations of both his cock and prostate being rubbed caused Seamus to seize up again, his eyes going wide as he came, spurts spilling out onto his legs, dripping from there onto Blaise, and a few strings shooting up, catching on his stomach, his chest. Blaise was soon to follow, his hips snapping forward and backward smartly as he came with a groan that could have been Seamus’ name but probably wasn’t.

The two stayed still until they could get their breathing regulated again. Eventually dark brown eyes met grey, and a burnt sienna smirk was the only answer that Seamus got to his unasked question. ‘Was I okay? Would you fuck me again?’ To Seamus the smirk wasn’t an affirmation of anything but it was hope. He was pushed off Blaise roughly. The Slytherin went about the room, pulling on his clothing.

“So did you enjoy that, little whore?” And although the words were aimed to hurt, aimed to take away the intimacy of their joining-not that there’d been much there to start with, but it wasn’t in Blaise’s nature to leave an inkling of anything-and to prove that Blaise was the big man who had only used Seamus for his own gain. Seamus ignored the words with a smile.

“Could have been better.” He answered smoothly, almost amazed at his own brazenness. If Blaise wanted to play that game so be it. The sneering grin that Blaise shot him encouraged him.

“Next time then, Finnigan.” He said, sneer melting for a moment into a genuine smirk, full of Blaise Zabini’s trademark confidence. Then he turned and left.

And for one shining moment there was no doubt in Seamus’ head that there would indeed be a next time.
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~Slutmuffin

Again, tomorrow I will post the next chappie, if I remember and am not hanging out in dark playgrounds with boys...