Amanuensis (amanuensis1) wrote,
Amanuensis
amanuensis1

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Drabble Night, June 12, 2004

Theme was, "Straight boys having sex with each other." Well, at least one of them had to be straight. Or protest a little. Or something.

The third one ran away with me, and I have to thank mousapelli for introducing me to a new expression that I just had to use. Too funny.



Snape/Lucius. I knew the first time I saw you. (challenge by nimori)

Snape is eleven, and he is a confused, unhappy boy.

He doesn't like girls. But that's all right, because none of the first-year boys like girls. Girls cause no more sexual inspiration than do cats or owls, at that age.

And he doesn't like boys either. No story-sharing with age-mates there. If any boy likes boys he's a freak. End of story.

Snape doesn't like boys.

Just one boy.

It's that blond sixth-year he thinks about when he's trying to be ever so quiet in his bed at night, when his hand is on that part of himself and the feelings wash over him in waves, and he feels a little sick after.

When Snape is thirteen, he feels his first stirrings for girls. Finally, finally, he knows he's normal.

He tells himself it has nothing to do with the object of his obsession having left Hogwarts the year before.




Harry/Sirius. Baby, it's cold outside (challenge by gmth)

"Bloody hell, Harry, why didn't you tell me your room wasn't holding heating charms longer than an hour?"

"Didn't w-want to b-bother you--"

"You're like an icicle. Stay here with me for a few minutes, then I'll slide out and make myself a bed on the floor."

"D-don't want to kick you out."

"The floor's a better bed than I've had, many a time. You're frozen stiff. I--oh."

"...oh, god."

"--um--"

"...god. I'm--"

"It's--er, bad choice of words there, sorry--I--look, it's nothing to be embarrassed about, everyone--"

"...going to die right NOW..."

"...look, it DOES happen to everyone, I--I've got most of one myself, right now--okay, um, VERY bad choice of revelations on my part--fuck, look, I'm slipping out of bed right now, okay? Taking one blanket. Good night, Harry."

"...Sirius?"

"...Harry?"

"D'you...need any help with that, maybe?"




Harry/Ron. Anything you can do, i can do better (challenge by florahart)

"Jesus fuck, Harry--"

--his bed curtains were dragged open, and Harry had never seen Ron look like that--

"--it's a bloody SILENCING SPELL, you can produce a goddamn patronus and you teach the goddamn D.A. and you still can't get one of those right--"

--and Ron had shoved Harry over and shoved his way into Harry's bed and shoved his hand down Harry's pyjama bottoms--

"--and you KNOW that Angelina's got me pegged for extra practice with her tomorrow at the arsecrack of dawn because I'm still shite for a Keeper but you, youuuu don't have to be there until the rest of the team is because you're the fucking Boy Who Finds The Snitch Like It Was One Of Hagrid's Balls--"

--Ron's hand was doing remarkable things to Harry's own balls at this moment, while still keeping that amazing squeeze-and-slide movement on Harry's stiff prick--

"--so youuuu can just keep the rest of us awake with your nightly wank that takes a goddamn hour for whatever reason because you still can't do the fucking SILENCING SPELL, you fucking rude son-of-a-bitch and I. Need. My Goddamn. SLEEP!"

Harry made a noise like a dying basilisk as he came all over Ron's hand. Ron waited exactly ten heartbeats before releasing Harry's wilting cock, pushing to his feet, and jerking the curtains closed with such violence one of them tore free of a ring.

And Harry couldn't think of a thing to say.
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