Closer to Free
folder
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
1
Views:
2,757
Reviews:
1
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
1
Views:
2,757
Reviews:
1
Recommended:
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.
Closer to Free
Title: Closer to Free (1/10)
Author: fbowden
Pairing: Harry/Scorpius
Rating: R
Prompt Set: 10
Prompt: 3 - Kissing
Word Count: 490
A/N: This is written for my 10_themes claim table on Livejournal.
***
A soundless rush of air accompanies a quiet moan, escaping Scorpius’ lips and parting them just enough to give Harry a glimpse of straight, white teeth. The bottom lip is a little fatter, a little wetter than the top one, bearing gentle depressions where it has recently been bitten, some indents running deeper than others. Harry knows those that have broken the skin were made by him, because the slightly metallic tang of blood still clings to his tastebuds.
Maybe it’s the pout that does it; when the corners of Scorpius’ mouth tighten, pushing the succulent lips out to tantalise and tease. Harry cannot resist the challenge they present, how such a simple action serves to quicken his pulse and set his heart racing.
Perhaps it’s the way Scorpius’ sultry smile creates two wicked dimples, identical miniature hollows that demand to be covered by a hot mouth, the wet slide of a tongue worshipping each in turn.
It could even be the deliberate wetting of lips in slow motion that sets Harry off, the provocative tip of Scorpius’ tongue making them shiny, sometimes catching on one of the older teeth marks that are trying to heal. Fruitless, really, for the skin to knit back together when they both know Harry will bite into it possessively again, an impulsive movement that never fails to elicit a groan blended of pain and pleasure from his youthful lover. The sting of Harry’s passion as it tears the spongy flesh makes Scorpius writhe and beg beneath him, his shrill pleas lost to the ether.
Harry doesn’t know if it’s the pout, or the smile, or the dimples. He cannot decide for sure if it is the wetting of the lips, or the willingness of Scorpius’ delicate flesh to yield to his fierce attacks. Likely his fixation with kissing Scorpius is an exotic, erotic combination of all the factors, never failing to weaken his knees and make his palms sweat the moment they are alone.
All Harry can think about when he teaches his class is the blond sitting in the fourth row. He cannot get through dinner without watching Scorpius slide a dessert spoon between those lust ravaged lips, wondering how long he’ll last without feeling them pressed to his, how long he might have to wait until he can plunder that sweet, dirty mouth over and over again.
But for now, Harry doesn’t have to wait. The bed-frame squeaks in protest as he pins Scorpius’ hands above his head and leans down to satisfy his fanatical craving. The boy groans loudly at the contact, and Harry sucks it right out of his mouth, replacing the sound with his famished tongue. Grabbing a fistful of blond hair, he begins a deeper exploration of Scorpius’ mouth. Scorpius responds with similar desperation, seduced by the pleasure the timeless act invokes.
The castle sleeps while they continue their moonlit dalliance; kissing a precursor and a promise of that which will occur before the dawn comes. And when the sun rises, each will be left with a fragmented recollection, both cherishing the shared memory until they are once again able to resurrect it.
***
Author: fbowden
Pairing: Harry/Scorpius
Rating: R
Prompt Set: 10
Prompt: 3 - Kissing
Word Count: 490
A/N: This is written for my 10_themes claim table on Livejournal.
***
A soundless rush of air accompanies a quiet moan, escaping Scorpius’ lips and parting them just enough to give Harry a glimpse of straight, white teeth. The bottom lip is a little fatter, a little wetter than the top one, bearing gentle depressions where it has recently been bitten, some indents running deeper than others. Harry knows those that have broken the skin were made by him, because the slightly metallic tang of blood still clings to his tastebuds.
Maybe it’s the pout that does it; when the corners of Scorpius’ mouth tighten, pushing the succulent lips out to tantalise and tease. Harry cannot resist the challenge they present, how such a simple action serves to quicken his pulse and set his heart racing.
Perhaps it’s the way Scorpius’ sultry smile creates two wicked dimples, identical miniature hollows that demand to be covered by a hot mouth, the wet slide of a tongue worshipping each in turn.
It could even be the deliberate wetting of lips in slow motion that sets Harry off, the provocative tip of Scorpius’ tongue making them shiny, sometimes catching on one of the older teeth marks that are trying to heal. Fruitless, really, for the skin to knit back together when they both know Harry will bite into it possessively again, an impulsive movement that never fails to elicit a groan blended of pain and pleasure from his youthful lover. The sting of Harry’s passion as it tears the spongy flesh makes Scorpius writhe and beg beneath him, his shrill pleas lost to the ether.
Harry doesn’t know if it’s the pout, or the smile, or the dimples. He cannot decide for sure if it is the wetting of the lips, or the willingness of Scorpius’ delicate flesh to yield to his fierce attacks. Likely his fixation with kissing Scorpius is an exotic, erotic combination of all the factors, never failing to weaken his knees and make his palms sweat the moment they are alone.
All Harry can think about when he teaches his class is the blond sitting in the fourth row. He cannot get through dinner without watching Scorpius slide a dessert spoon between those lust ravaged lips, wondering how long he’ll last without feeling them pressed to his, how long he might have to wait until he can plunder that sweet, dirty mouth over and over again.
But for now, Harry doesn’t have to wait. The bed-frame squeaks in protest as he pins Scorpius’ hands above his head and leans down to satisfy his fanatical craving. The boy groans loudly at the contact, and Harry sucks it right out of his mouth, replacing the sound with his famished tongue. Grabbing a fistful of blond hair, he begins a deeper exploration of Scorpius’ mouth. Scorpius responds with similar desperation, seduced by the pleasure the timeless act invokes.
The castle sleeps while they continue their moonlit dalliance; kissing a precursor and a promise of that which will occur before the dawn comes. And when the sun rises, each will be left with a fragmented recollection, both cherishing the shared memory until they are once again able to resurrect it.
***