Wizard's Porn

My beta’s a bit on the poorly side, so I left her in bed and thus this is un-edited and, once again, all mistakes are mine (and I won’t share them).



Though, there were some cracking errors cropped up while I wrote this – gotta love dyslexia for that!



I’d post it in its raw form, but you’d all just laugh at it. *chuckles* You should see my lecture notes, they come out in gobbledygook sometimes! I think it’s amusing when I read it back; and if I couldn’t laugh I’d cry, so I laugh all the way. I’m having one of those days when my brain is not playing by the rules set down by my English teachers.



Bits of it Yoda had taken over, looked like, hmmmmm.



LaBib will tell you my dyslexia has a thing for ducks… *don’t ask, but provide bread*.



Not to mention the number of times I’ve written organism instead of orgasm! she screamed as her organism hit REALLY doesn’t work! Lol, it just implies some squicky beastiality BDSM! *oh dear, or is it deer?…*



The reviews have been fantabulous (and spellcheck hasn’t drawn a wiggly red line under it, so I’m using it! Lol), and I’ll answer them next time.



I want to get this chapter posted; it’s been a bu**er to write! It just wouldn’t come out of my head and onto the keyboard! And half way through my muse vanished off to her timeshare in Span and took the bunnies with her!



I wanted to get across some very important ideas in here – one is in here for those who want to see Severus Snape (though, it was only supposed to hint at him a little bit) – and they took a very different shape to what I thought. Why do I write better slash than het?



And I’ve just read the A/N back and promptly drawn my poorly house mate’s attention with a rather loud “What the F**k!” So, I’m going to shut up and actually write a chapter rather than rant about my brain. Even though this is proving to be a great form of tension relief after my little problem has completely messed up my last bit of coursework (and I’m going to have to do it again from scratch).



Cheers for reading, and sorry for boring you. I can’t rant at my beta because she’s ill.



*Riiiiiiiiight* FOCUS. Chapter. Write. Must.

(and Yoda’s back! Fan-flipping-tastic!)



Disclaimer: don’t own Star Wars either, with the exception of the VCR and DVD special edition box sets. 





WARNING: M/M IN THIS CHAPTER







CHAPTER SEVEN: comfort and comfort zones.



Juliet and Max met at stage left of a different private theatre, the manager soon joined them.



“Good evening! Did you get the owl about me having to take more in administration fees?” he said, hoping they had, it was easier to write a letter once and duplicate it ninety times, rather than explain face to face.



“Yes, I did. Inflation isn’t making things easy.” Juliet replied with a small smile.



“I also received the owl, thank you for informing us, and for keeping it in simple terms that were not flowery. An honest manager is a rare thing.” Max knew this full well, he was a manager in the reality away from the stages, and honesty wasn’t something in his ‘real life’; he lived a life of half truths and evasion tactics. He told more truths on stage than anywhere else. He never lied to a sex partner, lies in bed (or dungeon) generally earned him a rather sharp kick to bits-and-pieces that didn’t like being kicked.



“The least I could do… now, back to this evening.” He said, looking down at a piece of heavy parchment with a family crest watermark, “This couple want to see something other than missionary, they want to see how they can spice things up a bit – but not go overboard with it. Just a little bit of excitement.”



“They want something other than missionary.” Max repeated with sarcasm, “That leaves us with countless options.”



“They don’t want to be scared off, but want something different.” Juliet repeated, raising one eyebrow, “Not a useful request.” She sighed, she hated it when patrons didn’t really know what they wanted, it boded ill for the tips.



“You will manage it!” the manager said, leaving them to it.



“Please tell me you have some idea of what will make them happy?” Max asked, the Dom/sub audiences didn’t normally ask requests; they just let them get on with it.



“How about…” Juliet thought for a moment, “…Woman on top – it isn’t difficult to recreate and it probably isn’t what they’d expect. If they’ve been used to missionary once every blue moon for however long, this will be a refreshing change. Plus the control isn’t with the man.”



“Are you a thera-witch away from the theatre? That sounded rather analytical of the audience.” Max asked, impressed with her reasoning.



“No. It is something the therapist, Maggie, will have told them. She told me the same thing.” She shrugged, transfiguring her robes into a little, silk, sexy, crimson chemise with black French Lace detail.



“A delightful outfit that screams passion like a siren… what would you expect of me? I normally wear leather on stage.” Max said, waiting to follow her lead.



“You don’t go to bed at home in leather, do you?” she squeaked.



“I might be a sadist, but I’m not a masochist. Leather makes you sweaty and it chafes like nobody’s business ! Even the best cooling charms and comfort charms can’t stop that!” he laughed, “I normally sleep nude.”



Nude seemed an odd word choice for one of the whips and chains bunch, Juliet decided, nude brought images of paintings by the masters, not someone who was someone’s master.



Alright, how about pyjama bottoms, in whatever colour you like.” She shrugged; leather would most likely frighten the paying couple off. Most witches and wizards associated leather with the Death Eaters; though Death Eater armour copies had been sold and made frequent appearances onto the role play stages.



Juliet had been and watched, just for curiosity’s sake. She had been tempted to tell the actors that they couldn’t have been more wrong. But that would have taken away her right to anonymity. She found herself tuning out during the performance, going back to her mental avoidance tactic of humming nursery rhymes to herself.



While his partner mused, Max waved his wand and was dressed in plain, nondescript, black cotton pyjama bottoms. Juliet had to note that his legs looked to go on forever. The ‘Italian’ was certainly worthy of having Michelangelo paint his picture on a ceiling somewhere. Though, she’d be happier if he had the accent to match, a foreign accent, whispering sweet nothings in another language did wonders for her libido.



“We can’t just jump into bed and fuck like bunnies… there needs to be foreplay.” Max said, drinking down the provided potion.



Snape had analysed the vials provided to the male performers, as the male reproductive system was easier to influence than the female one; though the women were also provided with various potions that lasted longer, but were less known for success. The Theatre of Pleasures basically stopped themselves being sued for unwanted pregnancies and sexually transmitted diseases. Severus had pronounced the substance safe, though of poor design, he’d come up with one much better, but the theatre thought it too expensive (and if it aint broke, don’t fix it).



There was defiantly stamina potion in it, some virility potion, definitely a contraceptive and a faint tang of pepperup potion too. Not to mention an antifungal, antibacterial and antiviral. It tasted ghastly! The sickly sweet contraceptive didn’t mix with the pepperup; the virility potion tasted sour – though it went quite well with the sweet contraceptive. The stamina potion tasted like overcooked spinach; the antifungal of peppermint; the antibacterial had a citrus aftertaste; and the antiviral wasn’t worth thinking about… all in all, it was a sickly combination. As for the new performers, their vials were provided with a compliment of morning sickness salted crackers so they kept the potion down. If you vomited, you didn’t perform.



Snape had cried tears of mirth while laughing at Lucius, after he’d analysed a vial. He’d said it would cause no lasting harm to his reproductive system; but had sat in gales of laughter after tasting a tiny bit from the tip of his finger.



“Hey. What planet have you been orbiting?” Juliet asked, waving her hand in front of Max’s face.



“Hmm? Oh, a nice green one with rings and five moons; it orbits the wrong way around the sun, have you been?” he said, his voice dripping amused sarcasm.



“Yeah, didn’t like it. I preferred the pretty pink one with three purple moons. Nice calm colours.” She giggled back, enjoying the random banter.



“What were we talking about?” Max said, forgetting what had been said.



“Foreplay.” Juliet answered, plaiting her long mahogany waves diagonally across her head and over one shoulder.



“Do you think oral sex is too adventurous for them?” Max said, grinning like a twit upon recalling his little adventure three nights previous.


Blowing Snape that might be a good way to get back at Severus for laughing at him upon the analysis of the potion; though his new-found oral skill would earn him several unforgivables and Severus would be locked in Azkaban. Severus didn't take kindly to being reminded about certain things.



Though, anger hadn’t been the case of some rather adrenaline-fuelled mutual touching in a tent on a Death Eater raid, when they’d nearly been killed by Moody and Shacklebolt; they hadn’t succeeded in their task, and both Death Eaters were aware they’d have Hell to pay for it.







In the dim tent, the two men lay within separate sleeping areas; both recalling what had gone wrong. How had they messed up so massively? Where in Merlin’s name had the bloody Aurors come from? How were they going to explain this to The Dark Lord? What was The Dark Lord going to do in rapprochement of their failure?



Severus had been a shaking mess and completely out of character when he enlarged Lucius’s sleeping bag and shuffled in, curling up to the blonde’s back and throwing his arm around the other man’s waist in a frightening display of starved affection. Lucius, who had been unable to sleep, had turned over, to be met with the fierce, yet lost, eyes of Severus.



“Lucius…” Severus had whispered, still shaking.



“Shh… what’s done is done, we must face the consequences.” The blonde had soothed, just as scared as his friend, but not showing it.



“I’m terrified, Lucius, he almost killed me last time I failed, I can’t handle another three hours of crucios – especially if he lets Goyle cast them again – the man casts them wrong to begin with!” Severus swallowed then licked dry lips before speaking again, “My heart stopped six times in the hospital wing once you managed to portkey me out; Poppy spent three full days and nights healing me…” the younger man began to tremble with more violence.”



Lucius realised they needed a distraction from their thoughts. Impending doom wasn’t productive to a good night’s sleep. Emptying his mind, Lucius pulled Snape closer and kissed him with fierce ferocity.



“Mmmm. Lucius? What are you doing?” the obsidian one hissed, his eyes widening as the golden one vanished their clothing to the other side of the tent.



“Making sure we both sleep tonight, we’ll need our rest for the morning.” Lucius said, whispering a lubrication spell and handing some of the faintly rose fragranced gloop to the other man, rubbing it into his palm.



“But… I’m not g-…” Severus protested.



“Neither am I… just let go.” Lucius whispered, catching the other man’s lips in another battle of tongues as he firmly gripped Severus’s flaccid length, moving the other man more onto his back, but still on his side and leaning over him.



“You need this, I need this, we need this distraction.” Lucius whispered, noticing how Severus’s member was starting to take an interest, but not enough.



“Lucius?” he whimpered, unsure, but gently trailing burn-scarred finger ends across the back of Lucius’s neck. The blonde’s hair had been braided into a herringbone plait (as was Lucius’s custom before he went to bed, his long tresses were in less disarray in the morning that way).



“Shh… my beautiful dark warrior, my shining obsidian belligerent, my handsome hostile darkness…” Lucius whispered, nibbling at Severus’s neck as he stroked the slowly hardening cock in his palm.



“Lucius, I’m confused by this…” Severus whispered, arching into Lucius’s hand as the other wizard ran a manicured nail around the little ridge where his foreskin began, “In the darkness, you look almost female – but this isn’t.” he said, tentatively stroking Lucius.



“Good Merlin!” Severus said, his black eyes wide, “No wonder you are so popular with the witches.” Severus continued to run his fingers up, and up and up the other male, ghosting over the head and back down, down, down.



Lucius noted that in the dim light, Severus had turned away, “What’s wrong, it certainly isn’t this.” The blonde said, fisting harder over the other man and earning a shocked gasp for his ministrations.



“I can’t compare to… that, this.” Severus mumbled, gripping Lucius tighter.



“My ebony sculpture, you are not lacking, though you compare yourself to an exception of manhood, not the rule; the average is much smaller than your seven inches, well, I think it’s about seven.” Lucius reassured the other man with a gentle kiss, “Though, you do handle nine and a bit here.”



“That isn’t helping.” Severus griped, sending the Adonis a death glare in the darkness.



“Oh? Not helping, my virile onyx? Well, this should…” Lucius pushed Severus to his back, and planting his kneeling form between Severus’s legs, the sleeping bag suddenly became elastic to accommodate it’s sudden shape change. Lucius said a soft lumos and the glowing tip of his wand provided enough light in the dim.



“What?” Severus whispered, looking up at the stunning blonde specimen. Lucius was flushed with a pale pink, his hair had started to come lose from its bindings, his pupils dilated and lips ruby red.



“I wasn’t helping, remember, my inky soldier, but this will…” Lucius pressed two fingers firmly into the other man’s perineum while continuing to fist him roughly.



“Nah! Uh! Lucius!” Severus moaned, his head thrown back in rapture.



The golden man grabbed Severus’s singed and scarred hands and wrapped them around his length, “You’re not having all the fun here.” He hissed, muttering another spell and watching as Severus’s eyes went as wide as sauces.



“No! No! Lucius! Don’t you dare!” he cried, trying to wriggle away.



“Shh… shh… be calm, my frightened little doe, shh… nothing but one finger is going up there, nothing more - I am not a lover of men.”



“What are we doing, then?” Severus said, even more confused as before, and uncomfortable with the stretching and lubricating spell on his rear.



“Buggered if I know. Who cares? We need this!” Lucius growled, gently inserting one, long pale finger into the younger man, and pressing into the little secret gland.



“Oh Merlin!” Severus groaned, arching his back into a crescent in pure arousal.



“Severus, here, help me.” Lucius whispered, encouraging the Potions Master to enter his own secret passage with a calloused finger.



They continued to pump digits and fists in time with each other; Severus giving a hoarse cry within minutes as thick ribbons of milky white spurted onto his stomach and as far up as his neck. Lucius followed him after a moment, his release splashing onto his abdomen due to Severus holding his hand over the little slit.



Both men collapsed onto their sides and drew each other close, entwining their legs and mixing their sweat and emissions.



“Lucius?” Severus whimpered, exhausted.



“Shh… shh beautiful one, shh. Sleep. Sleep and forget.” Lucius mumbled, tired to the bone.



“But…?” Severus yawned.



“You are still my friend, nothing more, we are not lovers – we just needed some comfort.” Lucius said, watching as Severus drifted off to sleep in his pale arms.







“Max… MAX!” Juliet cried, finally drawing his attention from wherever he’d vanished off to, they were going to be late onto the stage at this rate.



“Oh? Sorry, miles away.” He said, blinking.



“Yeah, and wherever you were just made one heck of a tent in those pyjamas!” Juliet mumbled, offended.



“Ask me no questions, and I’ll tell you no lies; though I did have an idea of something we can do that shouldn’t scare our audience.” He said, opening his mouth and licking the incisor behind his top canine from inside as he thought.



“And?” Juliet prompted.



“Mutual masturbation – it isn’t quite as… scary… as oral sex, but isn’t too tame.” Max replied, running a hand through his long ebony hair.



“Yeah, that would work.” Juliet agreed, entering the stage and getting comfortable on a bed made with soft blue sheets and quilt; mounds of pillows propped up against the headboard.



Max crawled over to her, leaning over her and kissing her gently, his tongue firmly in his own mouth, upon remembering her reception of his kisses last time.



The curtain rose slowly.

















A/N: yes, I’m bad leaving a cliffie – but the SS/LM turned out to take up more than the little hint I wanted it to. But can you blame me? You’ll get more Juliet/Max in the next one – PROMICE.