Variations on a Theme (Science vs Romance)

A hand was on his thigh, warm, wonderfully alive, pressing hard enough that intent was evident. His green eyes were locked on the grey across from his.

“--put this behind us, you know? What’s done is done, said is said. I’m sorry and all, so no hard feelings, yeah?” Seamus smiled brightly, eyes flashing with sincerity. Harry wasn’t sure how to respond.

Seamus hadn’t believed him, had protested against him. Harry had every right to be mad as hell at him. Had every right to want to slam him against a wall and punch the gleam out of those grey eyes. Had every right to want to leave Seamus bleeding and broken on the library floor for Dean to find later. And yet…

The clarity of those warm grey eyes trained on his, the feel of the hand placed carelessly upon his thigh, the thought of the feel of the soft pink lips against his own. Harry blinked away the foreign thoughts, wrote them off to his lack of sleep, the DA and O.W.L studies combined with homework was eating up all of his time. In a normal state of mind he would never think of Seamus like that.

He glanced over at the Irishman, who was still looking at him with wide hopeful eyes. Harry doubted his last thought for a bare instant. The pouty arch of those lips, pre-empting rejection, the suddenly unsure glow in those gentle grey orbs, the power in the lightly flexing hand on his thigh, little things Seamus didn’t even know he did. If it was an offer for a quick fuck that Seamus was offering, as opposed to long-time, ‘everything’s chill, yeah’ friendship, Harry wouldn’t have thought twice about it.

“I really am sorry, Harry.” He said quietly. “I acted like a git and I know I really don’t deserve any forgiveness but I thought that…”

He had gone a bloody way off the beaten path for a mere apology, Harry thought with a frown. Not only had Seamus been trying to catch him in and out of classes for the past day, but he’d even gone as far as to hunt Harry down in a little corner of the library that nobody ever bothered to use. If the Irishman thought he was going to simply apologise and head on his way he was dead wrong.

“You’re sorry?”

“Fuck yeah.” Seamus’ hand clenched for a second on Harry’s thigh before he seemed to realise where it was sitting. With a pointed blush he removed his hand, drawing it into his own lap.

“Prove it.”

“What?”

“Prove. It. To me. Prove that you’re sorry.” Harry grinned shamelessly at Seamus, green eyes dancing gaily. Seamus didn’t catch on.

“I don’t know…h-how.” He said, though his stammer at the end almost led Harry to believe it was a question. He smiled at the Irishman, playing the wild card. He’d been doing that a lot it seemed, taking needless risks. He threw his hand out to brace it on Seamus’ thigh.

“Guess how.” He drummed his fingers once, causing the Irishman to glance down at his lap before looking back up to the Boy-Who-Lived. His mouth fell open dumbly, his eyes widened.

“Oh.” He murmured, eyes flickering unhurriedly, taking in the surroundings before landing back on Harry.

“You sound surprised.”

“Do I?” Seamus asked, voice dry. He was most assuredly surprised.

“Yeah,” Harry grinned, “you sound fucking star-struck. Why though? Isn’t this what you came for?” You didn’t chase someone around for a day straight without having some sort of interest in them.

“I-I guess. A little…I didn’t think…I never think.” He looked at Harry wildly for a moment. “I’m so sorry about earlier Harry, this entire year I’ve been such a--“

“I’ve heard it, Shea.” Harry said quietly, effectively shutting the Irishman up. “Now what say you to my deal? I’ll forgive you scot-free if you just prove that you actually are sorry.” Seamus was on his knees before Harry could blink.

A large, well-worked hand rested next to Harry, bracing on the arm of the couch. Another, similarly tan and worked hand was placed on Harry’s knee. From his spot on the floor, Seamus peered up into Harry’s face. He swallowed thickly, hand moving from Harry’s knee to the centre fold in his robes, parting the material easily, opening his trousers with practised precision.

“You sure?” Seamus breathed, hand sliding into Harry’s waist band at a tortuously slow speed. “Because once I start I’m not sure that I can--“

“I’m not going to ask you to stop.” Harry couldn’t help sounding impatient, couldn’t help the pulse of his hips as Seamus freed him fully. The cool air of the library was a shock to his system but the warmth of Seamus’ hand, of his wafting breaths merely ghosting over Harry’s skin, never fully touching, was enough to bring the boy into a semblance of arousal. When Seamus lips actually touched down however, landing upon the very tip of Harry’s cock, there was no semblance left, just pure arousal.

Harry let out a half choked growl as Seamus’ head lowered a bit, and his hands found themselves in a white knuckle grip in Seamus’ hair.

“Merlin above.” He hissed, burrowing his right hand further into Seamus’ sandy locks. Seamus hummed in response, sending a new a strange sensation through Harry. He couldn’t help the louder moan that escaped his core at that. Seamus’ smiling face raised from its place in Harry’s lap though his hands continued to stroke encouragingly.

“Shh, mate.” He cooed. “Don’t want to alert everyone in the library, yeah? That would be some explaining.” He chuckled to himself, before lowering his head again. Harry worked harder on keeping his voice down as Seamus’ work continued on his nether regions. It wasn’t an easy task however because every time he would successfully drown a moan, Seamus would trill his tongue or swallow or let his teeth scrape along Harry’s girth. It was like the Irishman was trying to make things hard for Harry, no pun intended.

He cracked his green eyes, unaware that he had closed them, and peered down at Seamus. The Irishman was looking back up at him, a devilish glint in his grey eyes. The boy winked once before sliding a bit further down on Harry’s length. The Boy-Who-Lived felt the tip of his erection bounce appealingly against the back of Seamus’ throat. To drown out the cacophony at noise that his body demanded be made at that slight contact, Harry’s hands dug more into Seamus’ hair, blunt nails scraping cruelly against skull.

The pace only seemed to speed up from there. Seamus’ head didn’t stay stationary very much longer, he was moving to a rhythm all his own as Harry’s hips unconsciously twitched along--a tempo that was horribly out of time with Seamus’ careful measurements--and Seamus’ hands taking care of what his mouth couldn’t quite reach, twisting in time with his easy sucks. The Irishman’s grey eyes stayed glued on Harry’s face as each new wave of pleasure caused the Boy-Who-Lived’s face to scrunch in ecstasy.

“Fuck, Shea…” He muttered quietly, from between clenched teeth. It was Harry’s form of a warning. Seconds later he was stiffening as the world lost meaning. Words like hot and wet and tight still had a place in Harry’s mind, the sensations rippling from his very core outward still had meaning but Seamus’ hands and mouth, the library, the Dark Lord’s return, O.W.L’s, none of it mattered anymore. Harry’s body shuddered as he released his final spurt of cum into Seamus’ mouth.

Colour was beginning to return to the world when Harry realised that Seamus had tucked him back in and was sitting on the arm of his chair like a bird.

“So, Harry. That good enough?” He cocked his head to the side, resembling a satisfied puppy, and grinned down at the still star-struck Harry. The Boy-Who-Lived nodded dumbly.

“Yeah…yeah that was…Wow. I didn’t really know you could do that…” Harry blushed a bit, swallowing a lump in his throat before glancing back to the Cheshire Irishman.

“Hidden talents, mate.” Seamus said easily. “Never know when you may need them.” He smiled again, tumbling from the arm of the chair with surprising grace. “I’ll be expecting your apology acceptation later tonight then?” The boy said, stretching. “Room of Requirement, right after the DA. You’ll help me with some spells, yeah?” He winked at Harry and loped easily off around a corner of one of the numerous bookshelves, leaving Harry with no doubt of what he had really meant. With a grin, Harry too stretched and thumbed his chin.

It had been a while since he’d given his jaw a good work out.
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FIN
~Slutmuffin
[Note: The title is a Rilo Kiley song.]