
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/9903296.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage, Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Harry_Potter_-_J._K._Rowling
  Character:
      Blaise_Zabini, Seamus_Finnigan
  Additional Tags:
      Explicit_Language, BDSM, Sexual_Content, Angst, Tragedy, Drama, First
      Time, Romance
  Collections:
      HPFandom
  Stats:
      Published: 2006-10-14 Words: 9881
****** Slow Burn ******
by chaeldub [archived by HPFandom_archivist]
Summary
     Theodore Nott/ Seamus Finnigan. Theodore had wandered the hallways of
     Hogwarts for nearly seven years, blind to the possibilities around
     him. Then Seamus Finnigan, of all people, allows him to see again.
     Seamus wants, but Theodore resists, until it come to a point where
     neither can turn away.
Notes
     Note from SeparatriX, the archivist: this story was originally
     archived at HP_Fandom, which was closed for health and financial
     reasons. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its
     works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I
     e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but
     may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator,
     please contact me using the e-mail address on HP_Fandom_collection
     profile.
Slow Burn
by
chaeldub
Theodore Nott was dead. At least in the eyes of Professor Slughorn, his new
House Master, he might as well have been. The Professor made no bones about
showing his disdain for anyone associated to Lord Voldemort. His father had
been incarcerated in Azkaban, after he had joined other Death Eaters in a
failed attack on the Ministry of Magic. So, with a Head of House completely
oblivious to you, and most other students not even knowing who you are, you can
pretty much come and go as you please. Pansy had made the point of making
ghostly sounds around him; she thought he would make a good apparition.
“Theodore, you might as well have left with Draco. There’s a big gap where he
was and there‘s a big gap where you are,” Pansy prattled on, “You need to get
more involved.” “I am involved.” “You’re not involved, you’re just a void,
where there should be Theodore Nott there’s just…” she motioned with her hands
in his direction. “I’m not a void,” Theodore denied, “Anyway, I’m here all the
time, even during the bloody holidays.” Normally, Slytherin House was empty
during the school holidays, so Dumbledore had said he could stay. The end of
year holidays were an exception - everyone had to return home. Everyone. The
house he had known since he was three was deserted. The cook and the maids had
left, leaving no food and a house full of cobwebs. For the first time since his
mother had died Theodore cried. They weren’t tears of loneliness or sadness;
they were tears of frustration. He hated the situation he found himself in; he
was born the son of a Death Eater, born into money and born into a minority. He
had gathered up some belongings and had sought out lodgings in Hogsmeade.
Holing up in a room above The Three Broomsticks, he stayed there until school
started back in the autumn. Slytherin House was a very difficult House to be
sorted into, expectations constantly at odds with who or what the person wanted
to be. There were only a few people that he found that he could talk to, Pansy
Parkinson was usually the only ear that would stay still long enough to listen
to his woes. On the odd occasion he found himself talking with Draco Malfoy,
but this was a rare thing at school, sharing a laugh at either Weasley or
Potter’s expense. Theodore usually hid away in a darkened nook in the library
or in one of the many courtyards. The library was where he had met Colin
Creevey, his first romance at school. Colin was infatuated, Theodore was
intrigued; there were other boys at school who apparently also liked boys.
Without Colin’s knowledge, Theodore had had many trysts in the secret and dusty
rooms that littered Hogwarts. Unlike some of his Housemates, he did not
discriminate, Ravenclaw - a quick wank with Michael Corner, Hufflepuff - a
drunken kiss with Zacharias Smith. Yet, Colin was the only Gryffindor that he
had not managed to get any action with. That was until one day when he was
sitting in the Great Hall eating breakfast. “What have you done to Finnigan?”
asked Pansy, nudging him. “Huh?” “He’s staring at you,” the black haired girl
replied. Theodore turned his head in Finnegan‘s direction. “Don’t look at him,”
said Pansy, yanking on his shirt. “Why not?” Theodore asked, putting his half
spoonful of porridge back in the bowl. “I’ve seen that look before, it’s the
way that Draco looks at Potter.” Theodore knew what that meant, he and Draco
had discussed his feelings towards Potter at length. Everyone was under the
impression that Draco had a burning hatred for everything Potter; the opposite
was actually closer to the truth. Now, if the same were true of Seamus
Finnigan, then that would be the second Gryffindor that he could notch on to
his belt. The first thing he had to do was to see how committed to the cause
the boy was. Theodore pushed his bowl into the middle of the table and swung
his legs out from under it. “Where are you going?” Pansy asked, “Remember,
we’ve got free periods until lunch then it’s Defence Against the Dark Arts.”
“I’m going for a walk.” “You and your walks.” Pansy huffed and turned back to
her breakfast. Theodore walked slowly and deliberately toward the door,
stopping to say something innocuous to a fourth year. Theodore looked across
the room and saw that Finnigan had left his place at the table and was also
heading for the exit. He nodded a reply to whoever it was that was talking and
continued with his test. Seconds later he and Finnigan were walking up the
steps to the double oak doors. “Going somewhere, Seamus?” Theodore asked,
deliberately calling the boy by his first name to throw him off. “You like
porridge,” the Irish boy replied. “What?” Theodore grabbed him by the cuff and
pulled him to a halt outside the door. “Porridge, you like porridge.” said
Seamus. “What the hell are you talking about?” Theodore quizzed. “I…,” Seamus
paused, his words seemed to catch in his throat, ”nothing. I’ve got to go.”
“Well, if you’re not doing anything, you can follow me.” Theodore said,
straightening out Finnigans robe. “Why, where are you going?” Seamus looked at
him a little confused, but also with what looked like a high degree of
interest. “I‘m going down to the lake.” “Oh, I don’t think I can. I’m meeting
Dean, you know, got to study.” Seamus smiled. “Suit yourself,” Theodore said,
letting his fingers trail down over Seamus’ hand as he turned and left. As he
walked down the corridor he thought he heard footsteps behind him, so he picked
up the pace. Once around the corner he flattened himself up against the wall,
waiting for his would-be follower. A few seconds later Seamus appeared; he
looked shocked to see Theodore standing there. “Lost, Finnigan?“ asked
Theodore, wryly, “This is the way to the dungeons.” “Uh, really? I thought you
said you were going to the lake?” Seamus replied, defensively. “I am; I was
just testing to see if you were listening.“ Theodore smiled and let the
Gryffindor tag along. He made sure that the route he took would avoid anyone
seeing them together, it wouldn’t do to have tongues wagging. It was raining
outside, but Theodore liked the rain. He found it cleansing. He thought that
Finnigan would depart when it started to come down in sheets, soaking them
through, but he persisted. For a moment his resolve almost broke, the rain had
left Finnegan’s shirt almost transparent. The young Irishman had a body that
many would be proud off, his chest thick and shoulders broad. Theodore kept
finding his concentration being broken because Finnigan would reach up and
brush his hand over his chest, the cold water making the boy’s nipples protrude
through the damp cotton. It was only after the fourth time that he had done
this that Theodore realised that it was deliberate - Finnigan was teasing him.
He smiled to himself, if that was the game Finnigan wanted to play then he
would just have to play harder. “You’re shivering,” said Seamus. “Am I? I
hadn’t noticed.” Thunder shook the distant hills and ominous dark clouds stole
their way across the high peaks. The lake turned an almost obsidian black.
Theodore stopped on the shore, peering into the murky depths, hoping Seamus
would do the same. His focus shifted and he watched the brown haired boy’s
reflection. Seamus wasn’t looking at the icy water, he was ignoring the pelting
rain that bounced off his skin. No, his eyes were fixed firmly on Theodore.
There was a crack of lightening that smashed into a tree on the opposite shore
sending a burst of sparks, like fireworks, into the air. Seamus jumped and his
hand shot into Theodore’s. It stayed there for a second, a heartbeat, a
lifetime, then was quickly withdrawn. “I don’t like storms, never have,
lightening makes me jumpy,” Seamus said, as way of an explanation for his
actions. “That’s a pity. It’s only out here, during a storm, that you can truly
experience power, tangible and electric. It gets my heart racing, feel.”
Theodore reached over and grabbed Seamus’ hand placing it over his heart. It
might have been cold, and the rain may have drenched them to the bone but even
Seamus would be able to feel the heat through Theodore’s shirt. The Slytherin
boy’s heart was pounding in his chest, the storm and the impending afternoon he
intended spending with Finnigan had him brimming with excitement. “Maybe we
should go back inside? Or I could go get us towels or something.” Seamus said,
his voice hopeful. “There’s usually a fire burning in the Slytherin common
room. I’m sure we could warm up there,” Theodore said without a hint of
sarcasm, striding off in that direction. “The Slytherin common room?” Seamus
said, stopping in his tracks. “Yes; what’s wrong with that, Finnigan?”
“Nothing, it’s… nothing.” Seamus faltered for a moment, then hurried to catch
up. Theodore was convinced, if any member of Gryffindor was willing to go into
the Slytherin common room, then they must want something really bad. Luckily,
the thing that Finnegan wanted was him. Unfortunately by the time they had made
it into the dungeons a whole swag of third years were heading down there as
well. After the snide comments had passed, and Seamus had punched a few arms,
he decided that this would have to wait for another day. “It’s bit busy down
here, maybe we can meet up again later,” Theodore said, running this hand
through his damp hair. “Yeah, sure,” Seamus grumbled. “I’ll see you in Defence,
then,” Theodore said. “Not if I see you first,” Seamus said under his breath.
Theodore pretended not to hear that last remark and headed into his House,
smiling to himself. ~~**~~**~~ The next few days Theodore did his best to avoid
Seamus. He knew if he was less visible then Seamus would try all the harder,
and try he did. How none of the Finnegan’s friends noticed how strange he was
acting, was beyond Theodore. When he had arrived at Defence Against the Dark
Arts that first afternoon, Seamus had sat beside him. Seamus always sat beside
Dean Thomas, always. Suffice to say he endured some strange glares during that
class. This continued onto Transfiguration and Charms, but was really getting
beyond a joke when he turned up outside Potions. Seamus wasn’t even enrolled in
the class and yet there he was, standing outside, looking like a lost puppy.
People were surely beginning to talk. Pansy asked constantly, ‘What was up with
that stupid grin on Finnigan’s face?‘, whenever he walked by. Theodore never
answered; how the hell would he know what Seamus was thinking of doing next?
The boy was making it really hard for Theodore to keep the promise he had made
himself, make him work for it, make him think you don‘t care and then when he‘s
all but given up… strike. Needless to say Seamus found more and more inventive
ways for them to be alone. They got paired up in two of the classes they had
together, even though Theodore had protested at Transfiguration, as Seamus
wasn’t up to his standard. McGonagall had just smiled that thin smile that she
always did when something struck her as amusing or odd, and said that he should
be proud to be able to impart some of his considerable talent on a fellow
student. Theodore tried hiding in the darkest recesses of the library, first
having to avoid Colin, but gave this up as Seamus always managed to find him.
He went to the Owlery to feed Hera, and found Seamus already there with a mouse
in his hand feeding the bird. When he woke one Sunday morning, dark clouds were
already dousing the school in sheets of rain. Quickly, he dressed and headed
for the lake, letting the rain plaster his dark hair to his neck. The one thing
about rain at Hogwarts was that it drove everyone inside, well, almost
everyone. As he made his way down to the shore he saw a lone figure, dressed in
red and gold – Seamus. Except he wasn’t wet, not in the slightest. He had his
wand out and was transfiguring the rain; Seamus really had been paying
attention to what Theodore had been teaching him. Theodore was entranced with
the myriad of tiny flames dancing a few inches above Seamus’s head. “That’s a
neat trick.” he said, stopping a few feet from Seamus. “Thanks to you. Anyways,
it keeps me dry.” Seamus grinned. “What are you doing out here anyway, I
thought you hated storms?” Theodore asked. “I do.” Seamus replied, meeting
Theodore’s gaze. “Well, what are you doing out here then?” Theodore asked, his
brow furrowing. “Waiting on you.” Theodore strode the few feet that separated
them, it wasn’t that he was cold, but that the warm flame looked so inviting.
“You’re pretty sure of yourself, aren’t you, Finnigan?” Seamus expanded the
radiance above himself to cover Theodore as well. “I’ve been called plenty of
things, Nott; pretty, isn‘t one of them.” Seamus chuckled. “I never said you
were pretty, I said you…” Theodore suddenly felt his mouth go dry, he did think
Seamus was pretty. No, pretty wasn’t the right word, handsome, yes, he thought
that Seamus Finnigan was handsome. It wasn’t in the conventional sense of the
word, there were definitely boys who could be considered better looking than
Seamus at school. There was just something about him, he was cocky but not full
of himself, and he had an air of confidence that Theodore felt drawn too. There
was also the look in his eyes as he stared at Theodore, even then it was hotter
than any fire the boy could conjure. He saw Seamus’s hand cross the gap between
them and touch his own. He closed his eyes, he had to concentrate, to gather
himself, to, God, but it was hard. Seamus just let the tips of his fingers
trail up and down the back of Theodore’s hand. Theodore focused on the third
finger, the nail was slightly chipped and it was scratching him ever so
lightly. It was something so Gryffindor, so Seamus, a chipped nail, imperfect,
but so revealing of his character. The more he thought about the nail, those
fingers, Seamus’s hand, the worse it got. Dreams that he’d had over the last
few months suddenly invaded his thoughts. Fuck me, Seamus. Must be resolute, he
thought. Oh, god, harder. Must think bad things, like Millicent naked or Draco
kissing Potter. A deep kiss on satin skin. Dumbledore and McGonagall, rutting
on the Headmasters desk. Muscles clenching, sweat drenched, heaving, thrusting,
lips, cocksfuckingSeamusdeeperharderSeamus… “Theodore?” Seamus said, breaking
his reverie. Theodore blinked once, twice, coming back to the shore and the
rain and the touch of Finnigan on his damp skin. There was an insistent ache in
his trousers, one that would need attention before he went back to the dorm. He
could break right now, give in to desire, to want. Thankfully, Theodore knew he
was stronger than that, or at least he hoped he was. “I’ve got to go,” he
pulled his hand away, rubbing the spot where Seamus’s fingers had just been.
“Can’t you stay?” Seamus voice was full of longing. “I can’t. I, Se… Finnigan,
we really can’t be seen together, like - like this.” Theodore stammered,
suddenly feeling unsure of himself. Seamus let his wand drop and the warm blue
glow above his head faded, the rain splashed down on his face. His face
glistened as the water dripped down his nose and over his lips. Theodore had to
turn away, his imagination was getting the better of him again. Sweat
glistening. Not now. Late afternoon sun shining through high windows. Skin
glowing, as their bodies grind against one another. It’s just a dream, it can
wait, he thought. Pulse quickening, pumping harder, faster, hands groping,
Seamus… fuck, God… please. Fine, you win, Theodore thought, giving in finally
to the temptation that he had so far denied. “Ten o‘clock, the passage on the
third floor, where we practice Transfiguration.” He turned and hurried back up
the hill. “It’s the last day of term, people will be everywhere,” said Seamus.
“Everywhere but there, it‘ll just be you and me, alone.” ~~**~~**~ Many thing’s
kept Colin awake in this his final year at Hogwarts, the thought of exams, the
war, but mostly, Theodore Nott. Sometimes he couldn’t sleep because Theodore
wouldn’t let him. His insomnia at the moment had another reason. Storm clouds
rolled over the hills toward Hogwarts, black and ominous. He sat on the cold,
wet steps looking through the view finder. The rain splashed down, like it had
all morning. He didn’t mind rain, if he was rugged up in front of a warm fire,
but Theodore liked being outside when it was poring, so he did too. There was
the roar of thunder in the distance. He waited, timing was everything, when it
came to photography, and this weather wasn’t very forgiving. Standing by the
lake were two figures, one clad in red and gold, the other in a plain white
shirt. On the far shore a bolt of lightening struck the ground. He pushed down
on the button, heard the flash go off. Seamus looked startled by the sudden
burst of light, but he didn’t see Colin. No, he wouldn’t see him, Seamus was
too busy trying to woo Theodore with that chaep magic trick he was doing. There
was another crash of thunder. The rain hammered down, turning the landscape
grey, save for the blue glow down by the lake. Rain plastered hair to his
forehead, ran down his nose, drenched his clothes, he didn’t move. He watched
as Seamus’s hand bridged the gap between the two boys and brushed against
Theodore’s. This time he didn’t wait for the cover of lightening. The button
was cold and slippery under his finger; like Theodore, cold and slippery. He
fired of a quick twenty or thirty shots, the more proof to confront Theodore
with. Evidence of an indiscretion, a tryst, a betrayal of sorts. Theodore
trudged up the hill from the lake, heading back toward Slytherin house. Seamus
waited until Theodore had disappeared from view and then followed. Colin had a
decision to make, stay or follow, fight or flee. He knew what he wanted to do,
but he also knew what he should do. Theodore wasn’t his, he never had been.
Freezing fingers pried open the back of the Polaroid camera Theodore had bought
him, tearing the film out into the dim morning light. Rain poured in to the
black casing, ruining the mechanism, so he tossed the camera into the bushes.
Colin let the black coil of celluloid snake its way down onto the wet ground,
finally let go and watched it coil in the puddle at his feet. There wasn’t a
part of him that wasn’t cold or wet, the rain had soaked him through.
Theodore’s footprints began to wash away, and so did his hope. Saltwater mixed
with rainwater on his face. So he just stood there, in the rain, waiting.
Waiting. Alone. Theodore liked the rain. Colin didn‘t. He hated it. He hated
standing there, drenched, shivering like some love lorn fool, in the cold.
Stupid bloody weather, stupid Finnigan, stupid Nott, he thought. He couldn’t
control how he felt, anymore than he could control the weather. He wanted what
he wanted; but what he wanted, he couldn’t have. Then, a ray of light shone
through the darkness. The sun broke through the clouds. Colin turned his face
toward the Heavens, letting the warmth shine down upon him. Maybe everything
would turn out for the better. Love will always find a way. Nothing lasts
forever, he thought. ~~**~~**~~ Theodore pulled back the tapestry and slipped
into the corridor unseen. It wasn’t that this was a very secret passage, it was
just the passage that he had told Seamus he would meet him in. He was almost
done with this game, this cat and mouse. There was one last thing to do. That
was when he noticed that where Seamus should be standing there was a Goyle.
“What do you want, Nott?” asked Goyle, crossing his arms over his barrel like
chest. “Want? I don’t want anything.” “Good, you can just run along then,”
Goyle said. Briefly, he thought that maybe he had gone down the wrong corridor,
or that he had told Seamus to go somewhere else. Then he saw Goyle smile, and
that was something that Goyle didn’t do, not since Draco had left school.
“Who’s in the classroom?” “No-one,” said Goyle, defensively. “Then why are you
standing here?” Theodore said, his hand inching toward his wand. From behind
the door, Theodore could hear voices, indistinct but clearly someone was being
held against their will. “Listen, Nott, you’re fathers a Death Eater, my
fathers a Death Eater, we’re equal.” “Move,” Theodore said, forcefully. “You’re
not the boss of me,” Goyle asserted. If the voices behind the door weren’t
enough to make him want to know what was going on, then spying Seamus’ wand in
Goyle’s pocket most definitely was. “Where did you get that wand?” he asked.
“What wand? Don’t know what you’re talking about.” “Goyle, look, a cupcake,”
Theodore said, pointing at his feet and looking down. Goyle, naturally,
followed his gaze. With the big oaf looking downward, Theodore grabbed him by
the top of the head and drove his knee upward. The sound of cartilage breaking
followed by a horrendous squeal echoed through the small corridor. Goyle
righted himself, blood pouring from his mangled nose. Theodore realised he
probably hadn’t thought this through properly when Goyle’s beefy hand grabbed
him around the throat. “Dat wath a big mithtake.” Goyle spluttered, a spray of
red splattering Theodore‘s shirt front. Theodore was loath to agree, especially
anything that came out of this moron’s mouth. For some reason, Goyle thought
holding him by the throat was going to stop him doing anything. Admittedly, he
was running very short on breath and his face was turning an interesting shade
of blue. So he did the only thing he could think of, he reached up and grabbed
Goyle by his broken nose. The hand around his throat withdrew and Goyle fell to
his knees. Theodore twisted the lump between his fingers, delighting in the
tears that streamed down Goyle’s face. “Now, Goyle, I’m going in there and
there’s nothing you’re going to do about it. In fact, I’m taking this wand and
you are going to toddle off and pretend like we were both never here.” Goyle
growled. Theodore gave a sharp tug. “You fuck… argh.” Goyle fumed. Another
twist. “Alright, alright, I’ll do it.” “Episky!" Theodore tapped his wand in
Goyle’s direction. He let go of the boy’s mended nose and stepped back, waiting
to see if Goyle would fight or flee. As if anything else could be the answer,
it turned out to be the latter. “This isn’t the end of this, Nott.” Goyle said,
as he wiped the blood from his face and retreated down the passage. Theodore
didn’t doubt that for a second, Goyle may be stupid but he could certainly hold
a grudge. Still, it was better that the big dolt hold a grudge, than he not get
in that room. He was of two minds; jump through the door and start firing hexes
or slip through, hopefully unseen and survey the scene. He didn’t know how many
people were in there, the odds were good that Crabbe and maybe Zabini were in
there, but he couldn’t be sure how many accomplices they might have. A
lubricating charm on the hinges solved the problem of the creaking door and he
slipped into the room. Seamus was standing near the front of the classroom,
facing him. Between them were, Crabbe and Zabini as he had expected, but also
Urquhart and Pritchard. He was sure that Seamus had been Stupified, because
there was no way he would just stand there and take this. “You know, Finnigan,
in this light you’re almost pretty,” said Blaise. “Yeah, a real head turner.”
Urquhart’s voice was full of sarcasm. “Blaise, I think he’s giving you the
eye.” Crabbe smiled. “It’s actually very trendy to be gay, Finnigan,” said
Pritchard, his voice trembling a little as if he was unsure why he was here and
of what was going to happen next. “I think he might have fallen in love with
me. Look at his cheeks, he’s blushing.” Blaise said, reaching forward and
tapping Seamus on the cheek. “Nott will be really jealous.” Urquhart laughed.
“How far have you and Theo gone?” Blaise voice was low and sexy as he slid
right up to Seamus, ”Who fucks who?” “I bet he’s the one who gets fucked.”
Urquhart almost spat in Seamus face. “Filthy Mudblood, and a Gryffindor as
well. I imagine you just lay there, taking it all night long.” “Fuck me, Theo,”
mimicked Urquhart. Theodore had heard more than enough, calling Seamus a
Mudblood was one thing, but assuming that he was on the bottom, well that was
something else. He used a silencing spell, allowing him to walk almost to
within a few feet of them unnoticed. “Gentlemen, and Crabbe.” he said, his wand
aimed squarely at Zabini. “Theo…” Blaise began, that sickening smile he used on
full display. “Theodore.” Nott corrected. “Sorry. Theodore. This isn’t what it
looks like.” Blaise said, tripping over his words and feet as he backed up from
the oncoming wand. Theodore pressed the tip of his wand on Blaise’s throat,
pushed it so that it would hurt. “What does it look like? Three of my
housemates alone with a Gryffindor boy, and Blaise, it looks like you’re
sweating.” he smirked. “Watch your mouth, Theodore,” said Blaise, reaching up
and grabbing Theodore’s wand. “Why, you going to go crying to your mother?”
“Don’t you talk about my mother.” Blaise growled. “You’re mother is a murdering
slut, my father, as Goyle put so plainly out in the hall, is a Death Eater. Do
you think if I killed you right here, right now, that anyone would care,”
Theodore motioned toward the other boys, “that any of them would try and save
you?” “We… we’re just joking, weren’t we.” Blaise insisted, looking over
Theodore’s shoulder for some support. The room had gone very quiet, save for
the shuffling of Pritchard’s feet as he backed down the room. “My fathers a
Death…” Theodore spun around and sent a curse flying over Crabbe’s shoulder.
“…Eater too.” Crabbe finished meekly. “If you ever want to see you’re father
again then I suggest that you piss off, right now.” “Goyle’s out side, I could
call him in here right now and he’d sort you out.” Crabbe said, defiantly. “No,
he’s not. I convinced him it was in his best interests to leave.” Crabbe
glowered at him, then his eyes dropped down to the blood dripping from
Theodore’s hand and he quickly followed Urquhart to the door. Pritchard had
scampered as soon as Theodore had raised his wand. This left only Blaise who
was inching his way slowly around him. “Really, Theodore, why so touchy? He’s
only a Gryffindor.” “Impedimenta!" Blaise froze in his tracks, the look on his
face was a cross between surprise and regret. The other boys stood in the
doorway, not saying a word. “I could drop you out the window, Blaise. Or I
could make all your clothes disappear and kick you down the corridor,”
whispered Theodore, in Zabini’s ear. Theodore looked down at the blood on his
hand, maybe there had been enough violence for one day, he thought. He circled
Blaise, deciding what best to do, then the idea struck him. “If I let you go
there’s a good chance you’ll take your wand out and hex me. So, just to make
sure you don’t-“ He reached behind Blaise, making sure that as he did he
brushed up against him to heighten the boy’s discomfort. His hand closed around
Zabini’s wand, he plucked it from the holder the boy wore on his belt. It was a
nice wand, with intricate carvings of ancient runes and archaic symbols;
Zabini’s mother had paid a pretty penny for this. Theodore held it in front of
the boy’s face, letting him take in what he was about to do. With his other
hand he grasped the tip of the wand and began to bend it. There were murmurs
from behind him. “Quiet, Blaise needs to learn who he can and cannot cross.”
There was an almighty crack and the wand began to break. Theodore saw Seamus
fall to his knees, as the magic that was bound to the wand dissipated. He could
have left it at that; the wand had a horrible split in it and was entirely
useless for performing any sort of complex spell. Instead, he brought it down
over his knee, completely snapping it in two, then he stuffed the broken weapon
down the front of Blaise’s pants. “You can go now.” Theodore said, muttering
the releasing spell. “I‘ll get you, Nott. If it‘s the last thing I do,” growled
Blaise. “Zabini, don’t. Leave him. He’ll get his.” Urquhart said from the back
of the room. “I’m scared, really, I am,” Theodore sent a hex across the room,
missing Urquhart by inches. “Next term, you‘re mine.” Zabini threatened,
drawing his finger over his throat, as he joined the other boys in the hallway.
“Have a nice holiday, won’t you?” Theodore said, and magically locked the door
behind them. Theodore looked down at Seamus, his hair was messed up, but that
was normal, but he did look uncomfortable. “Are you alright?” He asked “No, I’m
not al-fucking-right. Your friends just punched the crap outta me.” Seamus
said, getting unsteadily to his feet. “They're not my friends.” “Yeah, well,
they certainly don’t like me hanging around you.” “They hit you?” Theodore
asked, his blood beginning to boil once more. “You must have just missed it;
Urquhart packs a really mean punch,” groaned Seamus, holding his ribs. “They’re
dead,“ Theodore said, through gritted teeth, “every last one of them.” He
turned to leave, but he felt Seamus hand close around his wrist. “We can deal
with them later. Anyway, you’ve got blood on you and your hand looks messed
up.” Seamus said, holding up Theodore’s blood covered hand. “It’s not mine, its
Goyle’s,” replied Theodore, still seething. “You punched Goyle?” Seamus asked,
incredulous “I broke his nose.” Seamus grinned, but it turned to a grimace as
he held his side once more. Theodore placed his hand over Seamus‘s.. “Does it
hurt?” he asked. “A little, just knocked the wind outta me really,” said
Seamus, pulling his hand out from under Theodore‘s, letting it drop to his
side. Theodore continued to rub lightly over the spot that Seamus had been
holding. “I can’t believe they hit you.” Theodore said, his voice softening.
“Believe it. They think I’m gay. They think I‘m trying to seduce you or
something.” Theodore let out a stifled laugh; they thought Seamus was trying to
seduce him and Seamus probably thought he was, when really, it was the other
way round. “So.” Theodore said, shrugging his shoulders. “Well… it’s true.”
Seamus said, lowering his eyes, “I like you a lot.” Theodore knew that the
moment was getting close, Seamus still hadn’t let go of his wrist, in fact his
grip was getting tighter as he talked. “I see.” Theodore said, biting at his
top lip, something he did when he was thinking hard “I’m serious, Theodore.”
Seamus’s hand slid from his wrist, through the drying red fluid and clasped his
hand. The sun broke through the clouds outside and shone through the old
leadlight windows. The room hadn’t been used in a while, dust lay everywhere,
making everything hazy. “What do you want me to say?” asked Theodore. Seamus
stood there, clasping his hand, tighter, silent, waiting for an answer.
“Thankyou, I like you too?” Theodore asked, prodding for a further response.
“It’s not like that, it’s,” Seamus paused, choosing his words, “can I kiss
you?” Inwardly Theodore smiled to himself, if Seamus thought the game was about
to be over then he would just have to think again. “Here?” “Yes, here; why else
would you ask me to come here alone in the first place?” Seamus asked. Theodore
grinned, why indeed. “Alright, you can kiss me,” he said, moving slightly so
that he was backed up against the Professors desk. Theodore thought his hand
was going to fall off, the way Seamus was squeezing it and shaking at the same
time. Their hands slowly turned together, fingers entwined, his soft palm to
Seamus’s rougher more callused one. Seamus was obviously nervous, which,
Theodore found completely adorable. He couldn’t help but stare at the fullness
of Seamus’s lips, they reminded him of leaving the shore earlier that morning
and kissing the hand that Seamus had touched. Seamus took the step needed to
bridge the gap between them. He had to turn his head upward, as Theodore was a
good six inches taller than him. Theodore let the blue eyes lock him in place,
held their gaze, matched the intensity within them. Theodore didn’t realise how
bad he wanted this. He could practically taste Seamus’s sweet, hot breath, feel
the tenderness of Seamus’s lips. He leaned forward, as if pulled by an unseen
force, as if he was falling downhill with no way of stopping. Then he felt
Seamus’s breath on his cheek, he turned his head a tiny bit more. Nature took
its course. Seamus kissed him. Theodore closed his eyes and their mouths fit
together perfectly. Seamus’s soft lips touched his and the world felt like it
was on fire once more. A million different feeling’s rushed through his body,
tingling and spiralling between his skin, burning through his blood and soaring
through his heart. He let his tongue slip gently through his teeth and for a
moment explored the wet warmth of Seamus’s mouth. Given the choice, he could
have died there and then. Theodore grasped Seamus around the waist and spun him
around so that it was now he against the desk. A canister of quills tumbled off
the side of the desk, the tin landed with a thunk, the quills just floated
gently to the wooden floor. Seamus must have been in shock, at first he was
still, but then his body began to respond and he pushed back against Theodore,
his mouth and tongue searching him out. Theodore knew this wasn’t a time for
words, they could work things out later, he only wanted to eliminate the space
between their bodies. He felt the stiffness and fight, ebb out of Seamus’s body
as the boy began to lightly moan his name. He felt one of Seamus’s hands slide
up his back and through his dark hair, fingers grasping, needing. Theodore
tugged at the buckle holding up Seamus’s pants, tore the zipper down hurriedly.
His fingers tripped over themselves as he reached into Seamus’s underwear. The
boy moaned and his cock throbbed brazenly as Theodore slid his fingers around
it’s warmth. “Theo,” said Seamus, his voice was choked up, full of lust and
swagger, innocence and lost time. "Yes?" Theodore mumbled, lost in
concentration, as Seamus thrust upward into his grasp. “I wanted... Oh,
Merlin,” Seamus moaned, leaning into his chest, as Theodore quickened his
strokes. Theodore realised he still had his wand in his other hand, he let it
fall to the floor with the rest of his inhibitions. He reached up and took
Seamus under the chin, tilting his head upward once more. “I wanted too.”
Theodore grinned wickedly, and crushed his lips against Seamus‘s. Then Seamus’s
hands are at him too, pawing, tearing at his body. Buttons fly across the room
as his shirt is ripped open. Seamus leans into him, kissing his chest, his
neck, under his chin, lips brushing against salty flesh.. He feels his fly
being yanked open and a hand thrust in. Theodore grasps the back of Seamus’s
head, afraid that he might not want this, that he might want to escape for some
reason. He needn’t have worried, Seamus knows what Theodore wants, wants it
too. Seamus grasps his cock, urgent, fast and hard, learning what Theodore
likes from his own strokes. Theodore can smell Seamus’s body, can taste it on
his tongue. Their eyes meet. Seamus arches his back, a curve of yearning.
“Fuck… Theo, I’m close,” Seamus groans, “I wont, I can’t…” The motion between
their bodies becomes a balancing act. “Yes, Seamus, yes.” Theodore gasps,
pushing against Seamus, grinding against him. At first, they were easy and
gentle, each understanding the others need, now it has become a fight to see
who will finish first. The world begins to dissolve as their breath comes short
and quick. Their moans melt into one as the final act approaches. Each hand
strokes faster, hips push hard, bucking and jostling for position. Each boy
needing more. Theodore’s lips find their way to Seamus’s neck, it’s straining
and moist with sweat. Then their lips meet once more, the tentative way they
began is long past, now it is hunger and desire that drives them. “God… Theo.”
Seamus’s voice is barely a whisper. Then it is upon them, a crescendo of
emotion and boyish enthusiasm. Theodore knows it can’t last any longer, his
skin feels like it’s on fire. Seamus’s heat burns through him, lights the fuse
that sets everything off. “Seamus, I’m… fuck, I…” and that’s all there is,
Theodore bucks his cock into the tightness of Seamus’s fingers one last time, a
jolt on electricity, back arched, a moan escaping his lips and he comes.
Moments later he feels Seamus’s fingers dig into the small of his back. His
face is buried in Theodore’s chest, moaning obscenities and cravings. Theodore
whispers his name and Seamus turns his head to meet Theodore’s lips. Then a
warmth sprays across him, Seamus bites gently on his lip and comes across his
hand and stomach. For a moment, all is quiet, save for their laboured breathing
and the creaking of the table. “Theo, that was… unbelievable.” Seamus says, his
body going limp, laying back against the desk. “You’re not too bad yourself.”
Theodore grins, still breathless and unsure of what comes next. Seamus starts
to zip himself up and then seeing the state that Theodore’s in lets out a
laugh. “What?” Theodore asked, sitting on the table beside him. “Look at you.”
Theodore glances down, apart from the glistening remnants of Seamus’s release,
his shirt is in tatters, belt buckle is broken and his cock is still throbbing
lewdly. “That was your fault.” he says, smiling. “My fault?” asked Seamus.
“Well, that,” Theodore runs a finger across the still warm come on his stomach,
“was clearly your fault.” “I might be Irish but I’m not stupid, Theo. Your
hands were down my pants first,” said Seamus, finally getting unsteadily to his
feet and doing his belt up. “Sounds like you’ve still got a bit of fight left
in you,” said Theodore. Seamus looks at him warily, then toward the door.
“Someplace you’ve got to be?” asked Theodore. “No, it’s, well, the train will
be leaving soon.” Theodore had contemplated asking Seamus to come and stay at
his house over the holidays, but he doubted that his parents would allow it,
what with the state of things. It was probably better to let him go, let him
think about what had just happened, let him wonder about what might happen next
term. “You’d better go then, wouldn’t want you to be late,” said Theodore,
feigning disinterest. “Hang on, it’s not like that. I’ve got to go, the train
won’t wait.” Seamus said, his hand gently touching Theodore’s. Theodore smiled
and leaned forward and kissed Seamus on the lips. “You better leave now, or I
might be tempted to keep you here.” Seamus grinned, brushed his lips over
Theodore’s one last time and headed for the door, only turning back twice to
make sure that Theodore was still there. “Go, I’ll be here when you get back.”
~~**~~**~~ Colin sat on the end of his bed, he had been sitting there for
nearly half an hour already.. He had arrived to find his roommates packed and
ready to leave. Colin had let them go, then started shoving his belongings into
his trunk, slowly. He hoped that the longer he took, the more likely that
Theodore would show. That hadn’t been the case. He drummed his fingers on the
burnished bedpost, trying to think of something else other than Theodore-
Bloody-Nott. He hadn’t spoken to him in nearly three weeks, and besides seeing
Theodore talking with Seamus down near the lake, he hadn’t even laid eyes on
him in that time. He just couldn’t believe that he would let him leave without
saying anything. Glancing at the window one last time, Theodore would send his
owl up to tap on the glass if he wanted to meet, Colin resigned himself to the
fact that he wasn’t coming. "Fuck it." Colin said, standing up and grabbing his
trunk. He dragged the heavy box out the door and down the corridor, of course
he could have levitated it, but that wouldn’t have been as dramatic as it
clunked down the steps leading to the common room. Normally the common room was
abuzz with students, but it was empty now, even the fire was dying in the
hearth. Christmas holidays were normally a time for cheer, but Colin felt
miserable.How could he go home and be happy knowing he was coming back
here?Hogwarts would be an immensely depressing place if he had to spend it
pining over a lost love. The portrait of the Fat Lady swung open and for a
moment Colin thought that Theodore had found a way in. But instead of the
obsidian locks of his hearts desire,, he saw the sandy hair of Seamus Finnigan.
Sweat broke out on his forehead, his blood boiled in his veins. Smile, he
thought, smile and act like nothing is wrong. Seamus stopped in his tracks,
shirt untucked and tie held limply in his hand. He looked like a cross between
the cat that got the cream and a rabbit caught in the headlights. He smiled
nervously at Colin. "Hey, Colin. Running late as well?" Seamus asked, walking
toward the spiral staircase that lead to the dorms. Colin balled up his fists,
trying to keep his cool. Smile; show him that everything is okay. It wasn’t a
smile as such, more of a grimace, as his lips parted and he bared his teeth. "I
was waiting on Theodore," he replied, letting Seamus know that this wasn’t just
an innocent meeting. Seamus stopped, one foot on the bottom step. Colin hadn’t
moved, he had just kept his eyes on the Irish boy as he had walked across the
room. "Nott?" Seamus enquired, his voice breaking slightly. "Yes." Colin said,
staring his Housemate down. "You’re here alone though, right?" Seamus asked,
calmly, looking back at Colin. Colin wanted to yank out his wand and hex him,
scar him and make him hurt, just like he did. He didn’t care that it wasn’t
something that a Gryffindor would do, Finnegan was acting smug and that was
just too much to take. Then again, there were other ways, more interesting
ways. "I’m not alone… you’re here." Colin said, slyly. Seamus raised an
eyebrow, and casually laid his tie over his shoulder. "I've got to go pack; the
train will be leaving soon." Colin strode over to where Seamus stood, the
grimace had been replaced with a leering grin. Finnegan stank of sweat and sex.
There were only a few centimetres between them, Seamus stood his ground as
Colin pressed forward. Colin grabbed Seamus's hand. Seamus made to pull away
but let Colin keep hold. "What are you doing?" Seamus asked, his back against
the wall. Colin smiled, it was a lecherous thing, full of knowing and evil
intentions. He lifted Seamus’s hand up to his face, looked at it, the
imperfections, the chipped nails. "Colin?" Seamus’s voice was barely a whisper.
"Mmmmh" "What are you..." Colin opened his mouth to answer, but thought better
of it. Instead, he let his tongue flick out and graze Seamus's thumb. Seamus
tried to yank his hand back then, as if it had been scalded by fire, but Colin
held it firm. He kissed the fingernail, with the dirt and secrets hidden
underneath, over the knuckle and licked his way up the index finger. Taste was
a wonderful thing, like smell; the senses were things that could not be denied.
Theodore was there, dry on Seamus's skin, salty but sweet. Colin opened his
mouth and slowly sucked Seamus's thumb into his mouth. A practiced move, one
that he had performed on many an occasion on a thing much larger than a thumb.
"C… Co… um, Colin. No… it’s wrong… I’ve got to go." Seamus stammered. Colin had
let go off Seamus’s hand almost thirty seconds earlier, but it stayed there,
his rough fingers grazing Colin’s cheek. He watched the vein on the side of
Seamus’s neck pulse and his tongue poke out between his lips, his eyes meeting
Colin’s, holding his gaze. Colin's other hand slid over Seamus crotch, his
trousers jutting out obscenely. Seamus tried to pull back but Colin felt him
there, hard and throbbing.I wonder if Dean knows about him, Colin thought,
kissing Seamus’s thumb one last time. Colin had noticed the way that Dean
Thomas looked at Seamus, it was the same way that he looked at Theodore. he
stepped back off the stone step, straightening his robes. Seamus stumbled
backwards, turned and mumbling to himself, hurried up the stairs, only looking
back once to see if Colin was still there. "I’ll be here when you get back,
Seamus." Maybe, just maybe, next term wasn’t going to be so bad after all.
~~**~~**~~ Theodore waited until the door was closed then gathered up his wand,
a quick repair charm and he looked ready for Sunday dinner. He was manically
trying to think of ways to keep Seamus on a thread over the winter break.
Letters were dangerous, but maybe Hera could carry a photograph, transfigured
as a four-leaf clover. Theodore wasn’t one for making lewd photographs, but in
this instance he felt that his desire outweighed the need for decency. He went
out the door, wand drawn, still wary of Zabini and his cohorts, and headed for
Gryffindor Tower. Colin would have a camera, in fact, he would have the camera
that he had given him for his birthday. Most of the stairwells were empty and
he realised that time was against him. He broke into a run, pounding up stair
after stair, hoping he wasn’t too late. Then as he was rounding a corner he
nearly bowled Hogwarts resident photographer over. “Colin, sorry, I didn’t see
you,” he said, righting the younger boy, who had dropped his belongings on the
floor. “Wouldn’t be the first time.” Colin mumbled. “What?” “Nothing. What is
it?” Colin asked. Theodore knew that something was wrong, normally Colin was
excited just being around him, but he was short and obviously pissed off about
something. “The camera that I…” “I threw it away.” Colin said, picking up his
trunk by the handle. “You threw it away? Why?” Theodore asked, confused and a
little angry. “Get out of my way.” Colin snapped, trying to push his way past.
Theodore held his ground, which against Colin wasn’t all that hard. “GET THE
FUCK OUT OF MY WAY, THEO!” Colin shouted. “What the fuck, Creevey? What have I
done?” Theodore asked, moving to the side. Colin’s trunk fell to the ground
once more, making a loud thud in the empty corridor. “Oh, I don’t know, let’s
see… I haven’t seen you in nearly three weeks, you’ve avoided me in the hallway
and after classes…” “I wasn’t doing that deliberately.” Theodore said,
defensively. “Really?” Colin laughed, “Yes, ask…” “Seamus?” Colin’s voice was
barely audible. “Who?” asked Theodore, feigning ignorance. “SEAMUS FUCKING
FINNIGAN,” Colin yelled, “I saw you, this morning, at the lake.” Theodore knew
he could play this four ways, deny, deny, deny or give Colin the explanation he
wanted. “Oh, that Seamus, I thought you were talking…” Colin grabbed for his
trunk again but Theodore stepped in his way. “Are you sure you want to hear
this, Colin?” Colin stared at the ground, sniffling. “Colin?” Theodore asked
again, placing his hand on Colin’s shoulder, kneading it gently. “No, I don’t
suppose I do.” Colin said, wiping away the tears. Theodore wanted to hold him,
say he was sorry, tell him everything was going to be alright. How could he
explain that nothing lasts forever, without sounding like a complete prick.
“Look, we’ll talk; sort things out next term,” he said, helping Colin pick up
his stuff. “You know that I loved you. I did. I do.” Colin said, doing his best
impression of someone full of composure. “Colin… things are complicated, I’m
complicated.” "Everything's complicated around here." Colin said. There was
what sounded like a thousand feet running down the corridor. Colin’s brother,
Dennis came bursting around the corner, red-faced and out of breath. “Colin,
quick, train, leaving,” the young boy puffed. "We'll talk when you get back,
Colin." Theodore knew his words were of litle comfort but he hoped that Colin
might see a light at the end of the tunnel. Colin gave Theodore one last glance
and then trudged away down the hall. Dennis was just about to follow when
Theodore stoped him. “Dennis, is there anyone else left?” “I don’t know about
the other Houses, but I was told to come back and tell Colin, Seamus and Harry
to hurry up.” “Seamus and Harry are still up there?” Theodore asked. “Nah, just
Seamus, he’s still packing,” said Dennis, looking impatient to get on his way.
“How long before the train leaves?” Theodore enquired. “Well, I’ve got to go
tell Hagrid that I can’t find Harry.” “Best be on your way then.” Theodore
turned Dennis down the hall and gave the kid a gentle shove. He figured that by
the time Dennis’s little legs had run back to the station, a good ten minutes
would have passed. Once you factored in Hagrid stomping back up to look for
Potter, another ten. Plenty of time. “DENNIS” he shouted, as the boy neared the
end of the corridor. Dennis came to a stop, holding himself upright against a
suit of armour. “What’s the password?” “Ruttered Bum,” the boy wheezed, “I
think the Fat Lady meant Buttered…” Dennis realised he was talking to himself.
Theodore had already left. ~~**~~**~~ “What are you doing in here?” Seamus
asked, stuffing a crumpled shirt in his trunk. Theodore kicked off his shoes
and made his way across the room toward Seamus. In the few steps it had taken
to get there, he had undone his belt and removed his shirt. “This,” he said,
grabbing Seamus and pushing him onto the bed. “Theo, someone might come in,”
protested Seamus. In response to Seamus’s action of that afternoon, Theodore
tore the boy’s shirt open. His lips quickly found there way to Seamus’s chest
and he began showering it with kisses. “Doubt it,” he said, kissing Seamus
hard, “well, at least not for fifteen minutes.” Seamus ran his hands up
Theodore’s chest. “Fifteen minutes?” Seamus repeated. There was the sounds of
bedsprings creaking as Theodore moved around on top of his prey. He pushed
Seamus back against the headboard, kissing him as he went. Seamus lifted his
hips to allow Theodore to undo his belt and pull off his pants. Even if Seamus
thought this was a bad idea, the bulge in his grey underwear would have
betrayed him as a liar. As Theodore took off his own pants, Seamus’s cock
stiffened and the head slipped out from beneath the waistband. “I didn’t notice
that before.” Seamus moaned, looking down at the tip of Theodore’s dick. “I
think you were too busy.” Theodore grinned. Like the rest of him, Theodore’s
cock was sinewy but well proportioned and as he took it out and stroked it into
life the small steel ring that pierced the head glistened with pre-come. Once
full erect his cock curved back and came to rest just below his navel. Seamus
lay back on the pillows and placed his hands behind his head. “Going to have
your way with me, are you?” Seamus asked, a mischievous grin on his lips.
Theodore looked long and hard into those deep blue eyes, the decision was made
long before he had arrived at this moment. He twisted on the bed, reached over
the side and plunged his hand into the open trunk. After a few seconds of
rifling through, socks, underwear and dirty shirts, he found what he was
looking for. “What are you going to do with those?” Seamus asked, looking a
little worried. “Never you mind.” Theodore said, bringing the red and gold silk
ties around in front of him. Moments later and Seamus found his hands were tied
securely to the bedposts. Theodore knew they really didn’t have the time, but,
hell, this was special. He crouched over Seamus, pulling his underwear down so
that his cock and balls hung over the waistband. Theodore grasped the shaft and
pumped it, as his tongue found Seamus’s balls. A shiver ran through Seamus’s
body as Theodore’s teeth made light contact with the skin of his sack. The
dark-haired boy pulled the underwear down further still and burrowed his face
between Seamus’s thighs. He reached up and began to twist the boy’s nipples,
Seamus gasped, and Theodore licked the underside of his balls. As his
excitement mounted it was hard to resist the temptation to just rip off
Seamus’s underwear completely, throw his legs open wide and fuck him to within
an inch of his life. That wasn’t the plan, at least not this time. “Lube?” he
asked. “Dresser.” Seamus said, breathlessly. Theodore tugged the drawer open
where a half empty bottle lay on its side. Scooping it up, he pulled the
stopper out and poured a little of the clear goo onto his fingers. He reached
behind himself and spread the cold gel between his cheeks, making his hole feel
wet. With one hand he braced himself on the headboard and leaned into kiss
Seamus, with the other he slid a finger into his arse. Seamus strained under
him, kissing him back as hard as he could, nibbling at Theodore’s lips and chin
and neck. Neither of them were silent during this; Theodore grunted with each
tiny bite, while Seamus growled like a wild animal in his ear. Theodore wasn’t
sure how long this lasted, minutes seemed like hours. Seamus was nearly clamped
on his neck, kissing and biting, writhing under him. His cock slid up and down
over Seamus’s own throbbing erection. He slid a second finger into his hole,
loosening it up for what was to come. The only problem was if he kept that up
he would come before he had Seamus inside him. Theodore slipped his fingers out
and felt for Seamus’s cock. Seamus’s eyes lit up as he felt Theodore’s hand
grasp him and guide the tip of his dick upward. Theodore rubbed the head of the
boy’s cock along his crack, teasing him that little bit longer. “Ready?”
Theodore said, meeting Seamus’s eye once more. “Fuck… yes,” moaned Seamus.
There was a brief flutter of doubt in Theodore’s mind, how had he managed to
get himself in this situation, he thought. For the longest time he had imagined
that it would be he in the position that Seamus now found himself. That he
would be the one sliding his cock deep into the boys arse, fucking him giving
him all the pleasure he wanted. Then Theodore realised that’s why he was on
top, he might be about to get fucked but he was still in control, he would
decide the tempo. He pushed down and felt Seamus’s cock push into his hole. He
bit down on his lip, almost wanting to cry out, but stifling the yelp. Seamus
thrust upward, forcing more of his dick up into Theodore’s waiting arse. “Oh,
God… Seamus,” he moaned, lowering himself down further still. Seamus just
looked at Theodore, his mouth agape, as if he had been struck dumb. He mumbled
something incoherent and struggled at his bonds, finally managing to free one
hand. As Theodore pulled up, he felt Seamus grab his cock and begin to stroke
him. “I think I love you, Seamus.” Theodore panted. Seamus simply winked,
strained upward and kissed Theodore on the nose. Slowly, Theodore began to
build up speed, riding up and down on the boys shaft. The faster he went, the
quicker Seamus jerked him, allowing him to feel levels of ecstasy that he had
never dreamt about. Finally, after the feelings brought about by the
combination of Seamus’s stroking and the cock that was ramming up into his
arse, Theodore was left gasping and panting and so close to orgasm that he was
tempted to push Seamus’s hand away. But Seamus finally found his mouth and
kissed him deeply, and Theodore responded immediately. Their grunts, groans and
growls became louder and louder, stroking and fucking in perfect time, mouths
locked together. “I’m going to come…” Theodore gasped, his body going rigid as
Seamus continued to pull on his dick. Theodore tried to pull Seamus’s hand
away, but Seamus obviously didn’t want him to hold off. His dark locks fell
about Seamus face as the boy wanked him harder. Lips met lips, as their
breathing became more laboured. “Seamus, I…” Theodore felt the rush run down
his spine and that was it. With deep, heartfelt groans, Theodore came, his come
gushing out in thick white gobs that went all over Seamus’s hand and stomach.
There was a guttural moan from beneath him and Seamus went stiff. Theodore
arched his back as he sat up, Seamus’s cock burying itself deep in his arse.
Seconds after him Seamus began to come also, his cock flexing and tensing deep
within Theodore. Falling forward once more, Theodore kissed Seamus for what
seemed the longest time. Panting and gasping, they separated and lay on their
backs on the damp sheets. Seamus looked round at Theodore and smiled, one hand
still tied to the bedpost. Theodore sighed. “You alright?” Theodore asked.
“What do you think?” Seamus replied, reaching out and stroking Theodore’s pale
chest, “by the way, I heard what you said earlier.” “What was that?” Seamus
wrinkled his nose. “I just thought you’d like to know; I love you too.“ Deep,
deep inside, Theodore could feel the aching void close.
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