Unexpected Guest

DISCLAIMER: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. Copyright © 2005 by Icarus Ancalion. All rights reserved. This story may not be reproduced in whole or part without the author\'s explicit permission. Ask, guys. I\'m easy to reach and usually quite generous.


Unexpected Guest
by Icarus


Harry languidly slid beneath silk sheets, pulling the fabric between his legs and across his chest. His always-sensitive nipples tingled at the touch, and Harry breathed a sigh of pure enjoyment. Harry was suddenly aware of the display this made for the man sprawled elegantly beside him, and that man\'s flicker of amusement. The man\'s expression didn\'t change, but something under the surface of the eyes sparkled. Harry stopped.

The man purred in a rich voice, \"Oh, no. Do go on.\"

That sparkle heated with more than amusement. The man took a sip out of his champagne flute, tasted it for a moment and shook his head. The liquid turned to a deep purple, almost black. That seemed to satisfy him.

It\'s a good thing they weren\'t at a restaurant, Harry thought irrelevantly. He would sniff the corks, send back the wine and terrorize the waiters. Harry held out his own hand to the air, and a glass of the same Bordeaux appeared between his fingers. The fact they did this without wands or spells didn\'t strike Harry as odd at all.

\"Your friend is late,\" the man observed caustically, glancing in what was presumably the direction of the door.

\"He\'ll be here, don\'t worry,\" Harry said, taking a sip as he scanned the room.

Harry didn\'t remember arriving and had no clue where he was, but it didn\'t trouble him. The bed originally had been strewn with large, downy silk pillows, which by rights should now reside on the floor. But they had disapparated in puffs of acrid smoke when the man irritably tossed and kicked aside all those irrelevant to his comfort. The bed and every wall was draped with rich fabric, and lit with a soft light from an unknown source. The man had left the draperies alone fortunately, though clearly he didn\'t approve of them either. Well. Harry liked them. As he\'d liked the pillows. But he was willing to give in on his pillows just to keep the man happy.

There was the sound of a door springing open on a far wall, and Ron came puffing into the room, breathing like he\'d run all the way here. As he probably had, given how late he was. Ron reached the end of the bed, tore off his shirt, balled it up, and tossed it on the floor.

\"Gosh, I\'m sorry -\" Ron began. Then Ron did a double take as he noticed the man already occupying their bed. \"Whoa. What\'s he doing here?\"

\"I thought we\'d try something new,\" Harry explained. The man arched an eyebrow at Harry.

\"And I\'m slumming,\" the man said evenly, turning the stem of his glass is has hand. It was a calculating gesture, intended to make Ron nervous. Which it clearly did.

Harry suppressed a smile at Ron\'s open-mouthed shock. Ron finally shook his head in a kind of admiration of Harry\'s insanity, and quite suddenly flopped down on the bed between them, leaning up to unbuckle his belt. Harry was used to the way Ron bounded about like a puppy and had held his wineglass high and loosely before the bed rocked. But the man of course, did not know Ron so well, and sputtered with fury as cold wine splashed, dripping down his chest and on the sheets. Harry winced and made a mental note not to use white sheets next time.

The man delicately shook chilled wine off his hands, flicking off the liquid with menacing precision. Ron\'s face turned up to him, cringing, his freckled face moving quickly through shock, nervousness, to what could only be described as pure fear.

The silence stretched on for a long, cold moment as the man glared. A lone drop of wine trickled a slow trail down the man\'s chest and disappeared into the sheets.

\"You,\" the man said, cracking the tension like a whip, \"will lick that clean and refrain from spilling any of my wine again.\"

\"Uh... yes sir...\" Ron barely managed to squeak. Belt still dangling, Ron bent his head to the stained sheet.

\"I was not referring to the bedclothes,\" the man snapped impatiently. \"If I wanted the sheets cleaned, a simple Cleansing Charm would serve me better.\"

Ron\'s eyes grew huge. Then he slowly inched towards the man\'s smooth chest. Harry smiled to himself. This was definitely different all right. Harry vaguely remembered he had been irritated with Ron for some reason, about something important, though he didn\'t recall what it was.

The man waved Ron off with a flick of his long hand.

\"Get undressed first,\" the man said in a disgusted voice. \"Stand up where we can see you. As a suitable reward for your lack of respect, you shall continue to refer to me as \'Sir\' for the remainder of the evening. Is that understood?\"

Ron glanced helplessly over at Harry and swallowed. The answer that came from Ron may have been \'yes, sir\' but it was awfully hard to tell. The man turned his gaze on Harry.

\"You will address me so as well. And be grateful I stayed, against my better judgment,\" he said to Harry in his silky voice, as he drank the surviving remnants of his wine.

\"Oh, yes, sir.\" Harry smiled into his wine and took another sip. It really was quite good.

Then Harry leaned back lazily to watch the discomfited Ron strip. Ron looked over at Harry, clearly realizing he could expect no help from that corner. It didn\'t surprise Harry at all that Ron obeyed without protest. Why wouldn\'t he?

Trousers were unzipped, and slowly slid down over Ron\'s hips. The two men leaned back on the pillows and watched, with the laconic predatory intensity of two cats toying with a mouse.

What do I like best? Harry wondered, as the heat of his gaze cast over Ron appreciatively. The curve of arms, lightly toned, or his creamy skin, with all those adorable freckles Harry loved to seek out and kiss? The long legs, slim hips... or his sweet nervousness about his body, the way Ron looked up at you as though wondering if he was good enough? He wouldn\'t be Ron without that, now would he. Harry tore his eyes away a moment - though only a moment - to glance at the man beside him. The man\'s face masked any feelings, but his rapt attention, such that he didn\'t even notice Harry\'s gaze, told the story.

Ron glanced up at his audience and Harry nodded encouragement at him with a grin. Ron flushed beet red, his eyes a little heated and glassy. Ron loved those rare moments he was the center of attention.

... also that blush was something else, Harry mentally added to his growing list...

Ron awkwardly pulled down his underwear and bent to step out of it. His cock sprang up cheerfully as he stood. Harry was not surprised, but he heard a sharp intake of breath from the man next to him and a slight startled cough.

\"Well. The secret to the Weasley family... productivity... is finally revealed.\" The man\'s eyebrows rose into his hair. Harry heard the glass click as it was set on the bedside table. \"This may not be such a bad idea after all.\"

...yeah. That part was nice, too.

Ron blushed furiously.

The man crooked a finger at Ron, who rumpled the sheets as he obediently clambered onto the bed between them. Harry moved over to give him a little more room. To give them a little more room Harry corrected himself, with a devilish smile.

Then Ron bent to the man\'s chest, hesitated, and gave Harry a last worried look.

But the man caught Ron under the chin with the knuckle of his forefinger, lifted Ron\'s chin and captured his eyes. Ron stared deeply into the dark, nearly black eyes, transfixed; his breath sped up, light and fast. Then the man, so gently, released him.

Ron\'s tongue trailed down the man\'s chest in soft circles, awkward and nervous at first, then more relaxed as his lashes fluttered shut sensually. The man\'s hand curled around Ron\'s hips, stroking lightly. With a deep guttural sigh the man drew Harry\'s friend and reluctant lover close to his chest.

Ron\'s breath caught and his eyes widened in panic, though he continued to lap at the man\'s nipple. Reluctance. Harry vaguely recalled his annoyance had had something to do with that.

Harry turned softly on his side to watch. Clean sheets felt so good. He tried to take another sip of wine but missed his mouth almost entirely; he discovered he didn\'t have quite enough breath left to laugh at himself over it either. Harry decided he\'d better put the glass away. At least while they were doing this.

Something caught inside as he watched his Ron with the man. Would Ron be as obedient to him?

Harry edged towards them, and the man gave Harry a lazy smile, fondling Ron\'s arse. Ron shivered in response, though in what combination of fear and longing, it was hard to gu Was Was it wrong that Ron\'s discomfort sent a thrill down Harry\'s back?

A lift of the man\'s chin invited Harry closer. Harry touched Ron\'s shoulder.

Ron\'s wide round eyes turned and watched as Harry lay back and poured a drizzle of wine over his chest. Heck, the sheets were done for anyway. With wordless permission from the man, Ron switched loyalties, though the man\'s hand remained on Ron\'s arse, stroking and exploring down the crack, teasing the hair betwhis his legs.

Ron\'s mouth was a wet heat and Harry\'s hands slid up Ron\'s arms, and clung there tightly sighing whenever Ron flickered over his nipple. Harry decided, between gasps, that he could never be a cool customer like the man, not if he tried for a hundred years. A smile spread across Ron\'s face. And Ron damn well knew it, too.

Harry was intensely aware of the man\'s dark eyes feasting on them; he felt every hitch and sudden pause from Ron caused by the man\'s subtle shifts and exploration between Ron\'s legs. Ron turned a surreptitious glance to the man so skillfully toying with his body, and was rewarded with a slight feral lifting of the man\'s lips, that no one but a mountain cat would call a smile.

Harry wasn\'t sure if Ron\'s sudden flush was from fear or not. But Ron patterned Harry\'s chest in hungrier circles, faster and a little sloppy; breathless. His usual tenderness disappeared into a dazed expression.

Harry didn\'t have time to be jealous of this reaction he normally couldn\'t get out of Ron, because the man suddenly leaned over Harry - why did he ever call him cool, his bare skin blazed! - and his lips brushed over Harry\'s, his tongue parting them in a gentle caress.

Harry melted to his knees, barely aware of Ron\'s kisses traveling down his stomach. A dim shock penetrated the haze of Harry\'s mind as he realized where Ron was headed. Harry\'s hands moved automatically to the man\'s slim, hard back. Longish hair brushed Harry\'s face. Odd how Harry never thought before what it would be like to tangle his hands in it, those silky strands. Did this man like having his hair played with, touched? It was hard to tell. He was so smooth, deliberate and professional as he sidled closer to Harry, his arm slipping under the pillow to cup Harry\'s shoulders. Probably though. At least he liked something. The man\'s hard length felt like a brand pressed to Harry\'s hip.

Harry was overwhelmed by the attention, above and below, I\'m going to be smothered, he thought.

Then Ron\'s breabreath on his thigh gave Harry a warning before Ron swallowed him. Harry arched into his mouth. ...and I don\'t care!

Harry made a startled \"Mmph!\" into the kiss. Did the man laugh? Yes, Harry believed he had.

Harry floated in heaven for several minutes, completely at the tender mercy of Ron\'s sloppy if practiced mouth. The man sat up and watched Ron intensely (Harry wished he would stop that, it made Ron pause and glance up nervously), while his forefinger delicately circled Harry\'s nipple (which Harry dearly hoped he\'d never stop).

The man reached down and fondled Ron, ran his fingers through his hair until Ron\'s breath came in a hot pant on Harry\'s stomach. The man\'s fingers entwined in red, lifting Ron\'s head, guiding him by the hair from Harry\'s lap to his own. Harry made an involuntary sound of protest. Ron\'s eyes went wide again, terrified.

The man wiped the er oer of Ron\'s mouth with his thumb, gently. Affectionately.

It was likely that affection more than anything else that gave Ron cause to continue. The man\'s gasp as Ron went down on him was gratifying, for both of them, and Ron lifted off and gave the man of hif his rare gentle smiles. Ron had about a hundred different smiles - Harry had memorized them all - but that one was Harry\'s favorite. He felt a pang of jealousy. The room was colder than Harry remembered and he felt somewhat abandoned now, if he were completely honest. The man didn\'t give Harry long for that.

His arm under Harry\'s shoulder was thin, but he was very strong. The man gave a shuddering breath, easily rolled and clasped Harry to his chest, as a red head bobbed gently further down. The man claimed Harry\'s mouth for his own, with depth and intensity, making Harry part of the electric current that surged through the him from Ron. Harry straddled the man, and felt Ron\'s hair brushing up against his backside in soft, feathery light touches. Harry\'s mind froze in amazement, fully aware of the hard stomach between his legs, and the touches behind. He was in bed with two men. How cool was that?

But he could tell from Ron\'s long, slow, slightly erratic motions that his jaw was getting tired. He never did know when to quit. Or maybe he just wfraifraid to stop. In any case, Harry nudged him and pulled him off, and nestled into the man\'s hip in Ron\'s place. My turn...

\"You\'re a wonderful cocksucker, Mr. Weasley,\" the man said with breathless ironic humour. \"I\'m pleased to finally discover you have some special talent.\"

A flash of anger and confusion crossed Ron\'s face. That was uncalled for, Harry thought. Ron wasn\'t ready to face things like that. Harry was suddenly tempted to roll the man right onto the floor - maybe he\'d Disapparate like those pillows. Although, he thought, as his anger began to cool, perhaps the man didn\'t know Ron\'s sensitivities about his family, his concerns about not being \'special.\' Or his mixed feelings about, well, Harry. How could he know, really? Harry shot the man a dark look, but decided to give him the benefit of the doubt.

Harry reached for Ron, hoping his friend wasn\'t too stung. Harry loved him after all. Not in the \'let\'s run off into the sunset\' kind of way (the thought made Harry cringe) but something more complicated than that.

Harry reached over and kissed Ron, forgetful that whatever else they\'d done together, Ron never kissed him. But it was all right, Ron leaned into the soft touch, their tongues met easily, and the strain leaked out of Ron\'s face with a sigh. Harry immediately wanted more, and clasped Ron\'s shoulder gratefully, diving into the intimacy of Ron\'s mouth. Oh. This is what he was missing.

They leaned their foreheads together as the kiss broke, their bodies tented over the man\'s thigh. Suddenly the evening had taken on special meaning for Harry, far beyond the sensual experience he had wanted.

The man simply watched them with a pleased leer, generously giving them their private moment together. Which is what made him the perfect choice for a threesome, despite his sharp tongue. He wanted to enjoy the experience of two young men, just as he had vicariously enjoyed watching their relationship for quite some time, smirking. He wouldn\'t spoil his fun by favouring one over the other. Even as Ron pulled away to have a sip of his favourite Scotch (well watered since Ron refused to admit he couldn\'t handle it), the man slipped an arm about Ron\'s waist, including him. And once Ron set down his glass, the man nestled Ron onto his shoulder to join him in watching Harry.

Harry slid his lips down the long shaft, marveling at how completely different he was built from Ron. Long, slim, curving persistently to the side in Harry\'s mouth. He shut his eyes. The man thrust up into Harry, his breath catching as Harry held him down and traced the shape of him with his tongue. Ron was a gentle lover, willing to let you drift to Mto Mars while he went down, but Harry demanded undivided attention. He was willing to be a little rough to get it, too. The man\'s breath hissed between his teeth as the flat of Harry\'s teeth teased dangerously along the cleft of his head.

Harry glanced up over a dark fuzz of hair and saw two sets of eyes, watching: heat in the man\'s face, amusement in Ron\'s. All right. This was more undivided attention than Harry expected. Come on, what guy can relax with you staring?

Rebelliously, Harry slid his mouth off, enjoying the pointy head with a tug of his lips, and thurneurned around, straddling and presenting them with a fine view of his arse. So there. Ronrtedrted with laughter.

The man had other ideas.

Harry nearly fell over; it was hot, wet and it tickled terribly. He\'d never had anyone lick down there and he was wondering - why-the-hell-not! - as he recovered and pressed his arse back towards the man\'s face. Again? Please?

He melted down to his knees as the man\'s tongue began to tickle and thrust in divine pressure, and Harry took up his task with renewed - if distracted - enthusiasm. He felt Ron sidle his long warm body between them, and suddenly Harry found himself presented with two -

-- he didn\'t finish that thought. Ron took him in his mouth, the talented Ron, the wonderful Ron, the don\'teverstop-or-you-die, Ron.

Harry thought he might have said that last bit out loud. Otherwise he could find no other reason why both men started to laugh. Which was no good, because it stopped them from doing whatever it was they were doing that felt so goooood. Ron\'s bare pale belly shook with laughter beneath Harry, and Harry had to laugh, too.

He nibbled down Ron\'s sensitive stomach, fisted his hand around the man\'s cock, and proceeded to devour Ron in time with his strokes, his ears filled with Ron\'s hoarse gasps, and the man\'s sensual baritone moan. Harry alternated between the two of them with quick strokes, and the three of them developed a kind of rhythm of heavy breaths and moans and wet sounds as time vanished.

Ron, Harry could feel, grew frantic, his eager thrusts more and more difficult to constrain; while that tongue on Harry was not nearly large enough, didn\'t nearly go far enough. No matter how Harry pressed against it. Ron finally was frustrated and crawled out, standing straddled on the bed in front of Harry, his face beet red and hair rumpled and tangled and standing on end. His cock was beautiful, swollen past endurance and wet.

\"Harry...\" he pleaded, and Harry understood. The man rolled from under Harry as well.

Harry\'s body shivered from an overload of sensation that suddenly washed over him after the fact. He sat on the sweaty sheets, his shoulders shaking as he placed his palms on Ron\'s hips.

He missed the glance that passed between his two partners over his head, and saw only the widening of Ron\'s eyes. Harry looked back at the man just as he felt the oil, slick between his cheeks, the hand smooth it, the finger entered, finding the entrance fairly wide, given the size of the man Harry normally took; and then the hard, warm pressure. There was a studied concentration on the man\'s face as his dark hair slid off his face. His chin lifted and he arched, pressing into Harry. God, he looked beautiful. Biting his lip, the man nodded to Ron, who moved his cock closer to Harry\'s mouth as Harry turned towards him. Ron had that sweet pleading expression again, and something else: a look of awe, like he\'d never imagined this in his wildest dreams. If this were a dream, it was Harry\'s wildest. Harry heart thrummed, and his breathing all but stopped as the man inched his long slender rod inside him.

Heat blazed through Harry as he pictured what it must look like, to watch a man take him, just as Ron was doing now. Ron\'s eyes closed with a sigh, and that was too much for Harry.

He knew his lips were sloppy, his technique out the window as he seized Ron - but he doubted Ron cared at the moment. Ron\'s happy groan proved it true. The thrust from behind knocked Harry off-balance, and Harry dragged Ron to his knees to get a better angle... it was amazing, it wakwarkward, Harry couldn\'t keep his balance, couldn\'t keep Ron in his mouth, didn\'t want it to stop. Ron\'s hands were all over him as the man stroked in and out.

Ron grabbed Harry by the shoulders finally, and firmly held him to his lap. Harry seized that center of gravity and let them take him, learned to let man\'s thrust, deep and slow into him, drive him onto Ron. Ron\'s shuddering excitement twitched between Harry\'s lips. Harry began to pick up the pace, trying to cue the man behind him. Ron was very close to it. Honest, Ron had never lasted this long before.

But the man was already aware, he watched Ron with a growing smile curling his lip. He scanned the flush rising to his chest, the fingers squeezing into Harry\'s shoulders.

Ron began to thrust impatiently, excitedly, his slick chest exposed to the air. The man began to speed his thrusts in time with the boy\'s rising pants and arched into Harry, hard, at nearly the moment Ron came with a glorious shout. He had lost his own rhythm of course, but it was well worth it.

They paused as Harry coughed a little. There was come in that black hair, and weren\'t they going to have a wonderful shower later together? He couldn\'t wait. He held Harry\'s hips in place as he waited, to be sure Harry hadn\'t drowned.

Harry sighed in relief as he swallowed. Ron\'s hoarse voice whispered sweet, meaningless words into his hair, hands stroked Harry\'s face, his shoulders, fingers stroking across his lips, smelling of sex. An endless litany of adoration... you\'re wonderful, you\'re beautiful, that was incredible, what are you doing to me... The sound came from a thousand miles away it seemed. The man behind held him, gently giving him time to recover. That surprised Harry.

\"... I have to sit down.\" Ron finished as he slumped to the bed. Yeah. Harry felt a little dizzy, too.

\"Are we all right?\" the man asked, a hint of mockery in his voice. He also sounded quite pleased. A slight wriggle reminded Harry he had reason to be, as did a gentle rocking motion. Oh, the man had such control...

The man eased and settled Harry on his stomach over a pillow, his long smooth chest molding to Harry\'s back. Harry briefly wondered if it were possible to overdose on sex.

That rich wine and leather voice sighed into the back of Harry\'s neck, and he did a subtle little circle inside Harry, sending sparks through his entire body.

Nope. Definitely not.

Ron had his Scotch again, and he lolled back against the headboard, a blissful satiated look on his face as he watched Harry. Harry suspected it was unwatered Scotch this time, and would have scowled - but Harry\'s conscious mind wasn\'t long for this world.

Ron\'s lips parted around the glass as Harry felt the first long, slippery stroke, and Ron seemed to forget to take his sip as he stared at them. Though he did swallow; hard.

The second stroke shut Harry\'s eyes and forced the breath out of him. His next blink of Ron was of his mouth open, drink forgotten. Harry\'s eyes shut again for the next moan, lost in the pressure and the dominance of the man above him. Oh, god, he had wanted him. Wanted this.

The man drove into him, piercing him, wanting him, needing this, all semblance of control thrown to the nine hells. In flashes, between pants, Ron\'s eyes grew aware, dark, and passionate as if he were pistoning into Harry himself. Harry had seen that look before. He drop onp onto the man.

He felt the unfamiliar rhythm, different from Ron\'s, slower, deeper, steadier, pounding into him; the low, barely controllesps sps torn from the man\'s lips. Harry said the man\'s name, said Ron\'s, and swore incoherently.

A thrill went through Harry as he realized that, through the gasps, the man was saying his name, over and over and over again. And Harry had known, all along, that the man wasn\'t impartial at all. He was merely a good liar.

\"I knew it...\" Harry whispered.


O~~}================> <=============={~~O


\"I knew it...\" Harry woke with a start, feeling the sticky heat spreading in his hands, eyes wide open to the dark room. There wasn\'t a sound other than soft breathing from the rest of the Gryffindors. Harry took that as a sign he hadn\'t been too loud. He hoped.

Ron, in the bed next to his, was revealed in a patch of bright moonlight. Harry found he was a little embarrassed looking at him, knowing what they had just done in his dream. He had just done. Ron had nothing to do with it.

Of course Ron was a regular in his dreams aakinaking fantasies. And he was mad at Ron, Harry admitted, so he supposed it wasn\'t surprising he would torment Ron a little there. Maybe that explained the man.

Harry blinked, reaching for a dirty T-shirt to clean up his mess. He hoped that explained the man.

Harry couldn\'t blame Ron really, for backing off. Maybe he was right,be Hbe Harry was getting too serious. They were just fooling around after all. Harry had a little trouble swallowing the lie, but he did the best he could. Ron hadn\'t broken up with him, so he couldn\'t rightly be mad at him, now could he? They\'d never been together, exactly. More like Ron had just stopped what had started. So Harry had no right to be furious. No right at all to want to grind him into Potion ingredients. And he didn\'t want to grind his best friend into Potion ingredients. Even if he did deserve it.

What did Potions have to do with anything?

Anyway, given what they\'d been doing, it was no surprise Harry still had dreams like this. It was only natural.

But since when did Harry have wet dreams about Snape?!


Finis.