Fic: Wedding Dance
May. 10th, 2014 08:53 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
alisanneTitle: Wedding Dance
Author:alisanne
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Blaise Zabini/Neville Longbottom, Severus Snape/Harry Potter (background).
Summary: Neville really likes weddings.
Word Count: 758
Genre: Romance, erotica
Warnings: Public sex.
A/N: Written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
hp_may_madness's 2014 fest.
Day ten prompt(s) used: French, Beach, Lemon.
Kink: public sex.
This pairing was suggested byrebecca_selene. :)
Beta:sevfan and emynn.
Disclaimer: The characters contained herein are not mine. No money is being made from this fiction, which is presented for entertainment purposes only.
~
Wedding Dance
~
Neville smiled as he watched Harry and Snape twirling together on the dance floor. The wedding ceremony had gone perfectly, without a hitch, and Neville, who’d been responsible for the flowers, was feeling pretty pleased with himself and content with his life in general.
“They look rather content, don’t they?”
Neville smiled. “You sound surprised.”
“I am.” Blaise slipped his arm around Neville’s waist. “Although I suppose I do know first hand that Slytherins and Gryffindors mix well together.” He hummed. “Sometimes exceedingly well. Speaking of, would you like to dance?”
“Love to,” Neville murmured.
Blaise grinned, clasping Neville’s hand. But instead of leading him towards the dance floor, Blaise tugged him outside.
The ceremony has been held next to a beach, and in the dim light of dusk, Neville could just make out the surf breaking on the sand. “Where are you taking me?” he asked.
Blaise didn’t reply, he simply sped up, guiding Neville around the side of the large wedding tent and towards a copse of trees.
Once out of earshot of the tent, Blaise spun, tugging Neville close. “I thought we could use a bit of privacy for this ‘dance’,” he said. “Plus, you’ve spent all day fussing over flowers. I’ve hardly had any time with you.”
Neville laughed softly, walking Blaise backwards until his back hit a tree trunk. “Jealous?” he asked, leaning in and capturing his mouth in a kiss. They snogged for a long moment until, needing air, Neville drew back and began nuzzling Blaise’s neck. “No need to be. You’re much more important to me than flowers.”
“I know.” Blaise’s hands were busy tugging at the fastenings of Neville’s formal robes. “And I wasn’t jealous, just horny.”
Neville’s chuckle morphed into a moan as Blaise pulled out both their cocks and began stroking. “Yes,” he gasped, teeth scraping Blaise’s jaw. “I can see that.”
Blaise murmured something in what sounded like French and their trousers disappeared. Neville shivered in the cool evening air. “Cold?” purred Blaise, his hands settling on Neville’s arse to pull him closer. “I’ll keep you warm.”
“What if someone sees?” Neville moaned, the slide of his cock against Blaise’s making him tremble.
“They won’t if we’re quiet,” Blaise whispered. “Can you do that for me?”
“Yes,” Neville breathed, his breath hitching as Blaise spun them around and then turned Neville so that he was facing the tree.
“Hold yourself open for me, then,” said Blaise, his voice low, silky.
Neville’s mouth went dry, and, tilting his arse up, he used his shaking hands to separate his cheeks.
Blaise moaned. “Fuck, but you should see yourself,” he whispered. Another set of sibilant French words came from his throat and Neville felt slickness spread through him. “Gorgeous.”
Neville gasped as Blaise’s cockhead breached him, his cock pushing inside. It felt huge as he tunnelled deep, and Neville relished the burn. He felt deliciously full. This was his favourite part, the way Blaise made him feel as he took him slowly.
Sliding a hand around his erection, Neville stroked in time to Blaise’s thrusts. Normally he was vocal during sex, but they were in public, and anyone could stumble across them at any time. Oddly, that realisation made Neville’s arousal spin higher, and, as he bit back his normal noises, it seems to make him peak sooner. In mere seconds he was shuddering, his body thrumming with the need to come.
Blaise was slamming into him, his breathing loud in the night. “Fuck, you feel so--”
Neville tightened his muscles around Blaise, gasping as Blaise growled and, slamming into him, began to come. Neville’s strokes faltered as his cock swelled and then he, too, was pulsing, his seed hitting the tree.
He sagged, Blaise’s arms supporting him as they both collapsed onto the ground, breathing hard. “That was some dance,” he gasped when he could speak.
Blaise hummed softly, kissing the back of Neville’s neck. “I do love dancing with you.”
“Not the sort we can do in public, though.”
“Sadly.” Neville’s stomach growled and Blaise’s hand patted it. “Hungry? Me, too. Shall we go back in for dessert? They had this delicious-looking lemon parfait I wanted to try.”
Neville chuckled. “Fine, but we’ll need trousers.”
Blaise whispered some more French words and their trousers reappeared, folded, on the ground beside them. “Ask and you shall receive.”
As they got dressed and then walked, hand in hand, back into the wedding tent, Neville smiled. He had nothing more he wanted to ask for. All was well.
~
Author:
alisanneRating: NC-17
Pairing: Blaise Zabini/Neville Longbottom, Severus Snape/Harry Potter (background).
Summary: Neville really likes weddings.
Word Count: 758
Genre: Romance, erotica
Warnings: Public sex.
A/N: Written for
hp_may_madness's 2014 fest. Day ten prompt(s) used: French, Beach, Lemon.
Kink: public sex.
This pairing was suggested by
rebecca_selene. :)Beta:
sevfan and emynn. Disclaimer: The characters contained herein are not mine. No money is being made from this fiction, which is presented for entertainment purposes only.
~
Wedding Dance
~
Neville smiled as he watched Harry and Snape twirling together on the dance floor. The wedding ceremony had gone perfectly, without a hitch, and Neville, who’d been responsible for the flowers, was feeling pretty pleased with himself and content with his life in general.
“They look rather content, don’t they?”
Neville smiled. “You sound surprised.”
“I am.” Blaise slipped his arm around Neville’s waist. “Although I suppose I do know first hand that Slytherins and Gryffindors mix well together.” He hummed. “Sometimes exceedingly well. Speaking of, would you like to dance?”
“Love to,” Neville murmured.
Blaise grinned, clasping Neville’s hand. But instead of leading him towards the dance floor, Blaise tugged him outside.
The ceremony has been held next to a beach, and in the dim light of dusk, Neville could just make out the surf breaking on the sand. “Where are you taking me?” he asked.
Blaise didn’t reply, he simply sped up, guiding Neville around the side of the large wedding tent and towards a copse of trees.
Once out of earshot of the tent, Blaise spun, tugging Neville close. “I thought we could use a bit of privacy for this ‘dance’,” he said. “Plus, you’ve spent all day fussing over flowers. I’ve hardly had any time with you.”
Neville laughed softly, walking Blaise backwards until his back hit a tree trunk. “Jealous?” he asked, leaning in and capturing his mouth in a kiss. They snogged for a long moment until, needing air, Neville drew back and began nuzzling Blaise’s neck. “No need to be. You’re much more important to me than flowers.”
“I know.” Blaise’s hands were busy tugging at the fastenings of Neville’s formal robes. “And I wasn’t jealous, just horny.”
Neville’s chuckle morphed into a moan as Blaise pulled out both their cocks and began stroking. “Yes,” he gasped, teeth scraping Blaise’s jaw. “I can see that.”
Blaise murmured something in what sounded like French and their trousers disappeared. Neville shivered in the cool evening air. “Cold?” purred Blaise, his hands settling on Neville’s arse to pull him closer. “I’ll keep you warm.”
“What if someone sees?” Neville moaned, the slide of his cock against Blaise’s making him tremble.
“They won’t if we’re quiet,” Blaise whispered. “Can you do that for me?”
“Yes,” Neville breathed, his breath hitching as Blaise spun them around and then turned Neville so that he was facing the tree.
“Hold yourself open for me, then,” said Blaise, his voice low, silky.
Neville’s mouth went dry, and, tilting his arse up, he used his shaking hands to separate his cheeks.
Blaise moaned. “Fuck, but you should see yourself,” he whispered. Another set of sibilant French words came from his throat and Neville felt slickness spread through him. “Gorgeous.”
Neville gasped as Blaise’s cockhead breached him, his cock pushing inside. It felt huge as he tunnelled deep, and Neville relished the burn. He felt deliciously full. This was his favourite part, the way Blaise made him feel as he took him slowly.
Sliding a hand around his erection, Neville stroked in time to Blaise’s thrusts. Normally he was vocal during sex, but they were in public, and anyone could stumble across them at any time. Oddly, that realisation made Neville’s arousal spin higher, and, as he bit back his normal noises, it seems to make him peak sooner. In mere seconds he was shuddering, his body thrumming with the need to come.
Blaise was slamming into him, his breathing loud in the night. “Fuck, you feel so--”
Neville tightened his muscles around Blaise, gasping as Blaise growled and, slamming into him, began to come. Neville’s strokes faltered as his cock swelled and then he, too, was pulsing, his seed hitting the tree.
He sagged, Blaise’s arms supporting him as they both collapsed onto the ground, breathing hard. “That was some dance,” he gasped when he could speak.
Blaise hummed softly, kissing the back of Neville’s neck. “I do love dancing with you.”
“Not the sort we can do in public, though.”
“Sadly.” Neville’s stomach growled and Blaise’s hand patted it. “Hungry? Me, too. Shall we go back in for dessert? They had this delicious-looking lemon parfait I wanted to try.”
Neville chuckled. “Fine, but we’ll need trousers.”
Blaise whispered some more French words and their trousers reappeared, folded, on the ground beside them. “Ask and you shall receive.”
As they got dressed and then walked, hand in hand, back into the wedding tent, Neville smiled. He had nothing more he wanted to ask for. All was well.
~
no subject
Date: 2014-05-12 07:16 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-05-16 12:31 am (UTC)And yeah, they do go well together, don't they?
Glad you liked it!