Fic: Finishing Touches
Jul. 5th, 2005 02:33 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
cthulhuchanUnusually, I felt the need to answer a challenge.
From: Jayne on After Class
THE CHALLENGE
For some reason or another, our favorite potions master needs/wants to have sex in his big, man-sized cauldron. Why? Maybe it’s a fetish of his. Maybe he’s brewing a potion that requires one extra-special ingredient. Maybe his new toy needs to be christened. Anyway, how is he going to convince Harry to get in to his cauldron with him? :)
Title: Finishing Touches
Rating: M
Genre: Humor. Okay. Dark Humor.
Pairing: HP/SS
Warnings: But they give so much away. It might be considered vaguely disturbing. One report of "severely creeped out."
Beta: None, although I may revise this later.
Disclaimer: I don't own them. Hell, normally, I wouldn't do this to them.
Oh, and... sorry, it's a one-shot. Really. If you want a sequel, let me know if you write one, I'd love to see it.
Finishing Touches
“Sex?”
“Yes, Potter.”
“In a cauldron.”
“Yes, Mr. Potter.”
“You want to have sex. In a cauldron. With me.”
“I do believe that that was the request I made of you?”
“Whyever for?”
“Because there’s nothing quite like the scrape of cast iron against your prick when you’ve got a teenager pounding into you.”
“I’m not a teenager!” By three whole minutes, but who was counting? “Wait a minute. You want to have sex in a cauldron because you like rubbing cast iron against your cock?”
“If that were all, Mr. Potter, I’m sure I could manage to conjure some chain-link masturbation gloves.”
Harry turned a bit green at that idea. “Don’t you think velvet would feel better?”
“Indubitably so, Mr. Potter.” Black eyes stared down at him, perfectly impenetrable as they casually pried apart the defenses of his psyche.
Harry growled, tearing his gaze away and reinforcing the barriers of his mind. “Oh, no you don’t.”
“Surely you do not object to my curiosity, Potter.”
“I never went looking for your wanking fantasies, Professor.” Harry snorted. “Not that I’d ever have believed that you…”
“…am capable of an intimate relationship with my own right hand? I assure you, even I am well aquainted with Mr. Rodgers and his five strapping sons.”
“Well, I’ve never heard it put quite that way, before.”
“And I’ve never had even a passing interest in a woman, myself.” Snape’s smile was downright eerie. “I see no reason to euphemize with them at all.”
“You’re queer, Snape.”
“Yes, I’ve been aware of that for quite some time.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“As you’re no stranger to queerville yourself, Mr. Potter, I see no reason to cast aspersions in regards to my sexual orientation.”
“I’m not casting aspersions in regard to your orientation! I’m casting aspersions in regard to your absolutely creepy peculiarity!”
“I assure you that sex in a cauldron is no different than having sex in the bathtub.”
“Then have sex in a bathtub!”
“I don’t wish to have sex in a bathtub, I want to have sex in my brand new cauldron!”
“But why –” Harry stopped. “Forgetting why it is so important to have sex in a cauldron, why in the world do you want to have sex with me in a cauldron?”
“Well, I can’t imagine that you’d want to have sex with me in a bed.”
“Allllllllright. Ladies and gentlemen, we have left Peculiaritown and taken a sharp left into Bizzareville. We’re dreadfully sorry if your sense of reality flew out of the window because you weren’t warned you needed to have it securely tacked down.”
“Surely, Mr. Potter, it is not so difficult to see that the only method I might have to entice you is to offer something no one else has, or might ever think to.”
“Not to mention the added bonus of having sex in your brand new cauldron?”
“Something like that, yes.”
“Someone please return reality to it’s fully upright position.”
“I thought reality had flown out of the window.”
“It did. That’s why I really could use it returned, mended, and placed back in its proper orientation.”
“I don’t have a proper orientation. As you noticed, I am a card-carrying citizen of queerville, rather than a seasonal visitor like yourself.”
“Card carrying?”
Snape snapped his fingers and a small, embossed card appeared.
Severus Snape
Gay Wizards Registry
Member since 1978
“You have to register?”
“Of course not! It’s simply easier to get dates this way, since members can easily identify one another on sight. It’s a fairly simple charm.”
Harry gaped. “That gives a whole new meaning to Gaydar.”
“Gaydar?”
“It’s a muggle thing, nothing you need to worry about, really.”
“Hmph.” Snape snorted. “I realize that you play fairly evenhandedly for both teams, but I assure you that your experience with me –”
“—in a cauldron—”
“—would be the most remarkable of your life.”
“Snape, I’ve always suspected fucking you would be the highlight of my rather wide, and as you pointed out, varied sex life, but… why a cauldron?”
Snape sighed. “Why can you not just accept that I am interested in being ravished inside of a cauldron?”
“Because I’ve a fairly wide range of kinks, but that’s just plain weird.” Harry sighed. “I mean, aren’t I at least worth a story, or something? Some kind of mysterious intimation that sex in a cauldron would destroy the Dark Lord?”
“You’ve already destroyed the Dark Lord.”
“Hunh. Well, yes, there is that.”
“Please, Mr. Potter. Aside from your respect, which you admittedly have never given me, I have never asked you for anything. Please, would you just get into the cauldron and bugger me senseless?”
“Put like that, how can I possibly refuse?”
“One hopes that you can’t, Mr. Potter.”
~0~
Severus Snape took his seat at the Head Table and casually flicked open the morning’s copy of the Daily Prophet.
HARRY POTTER MISSING!
Boy-Who-Lived Vanishes Without Trace
Snape chuckled, considering his newest cauldron acquisition, waiting for him to brew this year’s healing stock. The emerald inlay that sparkled so fetchingly along the sides, interspersed with silvery-white streaks and barely raised forms like sculls… anguish and pleasure intertwined, a heady power just waiting to be tapped.
Minerva glared at him, her eyes red from incessant weeping. He nodded to her and schooled his features.
Boy-Who-Lived Vanishes Without Trace.
Without a trace, indeed.
ETA: Made some changes in the disclaimer and genre.
From: Jayne on After Class
For some reason or another, our favorite potions master needs/wants to have sex in his big, man-sized cauldron. Why? Maybe it’s a fetish of his. Maybe he’s brewing a potion that requires one extra-special ingredient. Maybe his new toy needs to be christened. Anyway, how is he going to convince Harry to get in to his cauldron with him? :)
Title: Finishing Touches
Rating: M
Genre: Humor. Okay. Dark Humor.
Pairing: HP/SS
Warnings: But they give so much away. It might be considered vaguely disturbing. One report of "severely creeped out."
Beta: None, although I may revise this later.
Disclaimer: I don't own them. Hell, normally, I wouldn't do this to them.
Oh, and... sorry, it's a one-shot. Really. If you want a sequel, let me know if you write one, I'd love to see it.
“Sex?”
“Yes, Potter.”
“In a cauldron.”
“Yes, Mr. Potter.”
“You want to have sex. In a cauldron. With me.”
“I do believe that that was the request I made of you?”
“Whyever for?”
“Because there’s nothing quite like the scrape of cast iron against your prick when you’ve got a teenager pounding into you.”
“I’m not a teenager!” By three whole minutes, but who was counting? “Wait a minute. You want to have sex in a cauldron because you like rubbing cast iron against your cock?”
“If that were all, Mr. Potter, I’m sure I could manage to conjure some chain-link masturbation gloves.”
Harry turned a bit green at that idea. “Don’t you think velvet would feel better?”
“Indubitably so, Mr. Potter.” Black eyes stared down at him, perfectly impenetrable as they casually pried apart the defenses of his psyche.
Harry growled, tearing his gaze away and reinforcing the barriers of his mind. “Oh, no you don’t.”
“Surely you do not object to my curiosity, Potter.”
“I never went looking for your wanking fantasies, Professor.” Harry snorted. “Not that I’d ever have believed that you…”
“…am capable of an intimate relationship with my own right hand? I assure you, even I am well aquainted with Mr. Rodgers and his five strapping sons.”
“Well, I’ve never heard it put quite that way, before.”
“And I’ve never had even a passing interest in a woman, myself.” Snape’s smile was downright eerie. “I see no reason to euphemize with them at all.”
“You’re queer, Snape.”
“Yes, I’ve been aware of that for quite some time.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“As you’re no stranger to queerville yourself, Mr. Potter, I see no reason to cast aspersions in regards to my sexual orientation.”
“I’m not casting aspersions in regard to your orientation! I’m casting aspersions in regard to your absolutely creepy peculiarity!”
“I assure you that sex in a cauldron is no different than having sex in the bathtub.”
“Then have sex in a bathtub!”
“I don’t wish to have sex in a bathtub, I want to have sex in my brand new cauldron!”
“But why –” Harry stopped. “Forgetting why it is so important to have sex in a cauldron, why in the world do you want to have sex with me in a cauldron?”
“Well, I can’t imagine that you’d want to have sex with me in a bed.”
“Allllllllright. Ladies and gentlemen, we have left Peculiaritown and taken a sharp left into Bizzareville. We’re dreadfully sorry if your sense of reality flew out of the window because you weren’t warned you needed to have it securely tacked down.”
“Surely, Mr. Potter, it is not so difficult to see that the only method I might have to entice you is to offer something no one else has, or might ever think to.”
“Not to mention the added bonus of having sex in your brand new cauldron?”
“Something like that, yes.”
“Someone please return reality to it’s fully upright position.”
“I thought reality had flown out of the window.”
“It did. That’s why I really could use it returned, mended, and placed back in its proper orientation.”
“I don’t have a proper orientation. As you noticed, I am a card-carrying citizen of queerville, rather than a seasonal visitor like yourself.”
“Card carrying?”
Snape snapped his fingers and a small, embossed card appeared.
Gay Wizards Registry
Member since 1978
“You have to register?”
“Of course not! It’s simply easier to get dates this way, since members can easily identify one another on sight. It’s a fairly simple charm.”
Harry gaped. “That gives a whole new meaning to Gaydar.”
“Gaydar?”
“It’s a muggle thing, nothing you need to worry about, really.”
“Hmph.” Snape snorted. “I realize that you play fairly evenhandedly for both teams, but I assure you that your experience with me –”
“—in a cauldron—”
“—would be the most remarkable of your life.”
“Snape, I’ve always suspected fucking you would be the highlight of my rather wide, and as you pointed out, varied sex life, but… why a cauldron?”
Snape sighed. “Why can you not just accept that I am interested in being ravished inside of a cauldron?”
“Because I’ve a fairly wide range of kinks, but that’s just plain weird.” Harry sighed. “I mean, aren’t I at least worth a story, or something? Some kind of mysterious intimation that sex in a cauldron would destroy the Dark Lord?”
“You’ve already destroyed the Dark Lord.”
“Hunh. Well, yes, there is that.”
“Please, Mr. Potter. Aside from your respect, which you admittedly have never given me, I have never asked you for anything. Please, would you just get into the cauldron and bugger me senseless?”
“Put like that, how can I possibly refuse?”
“One hopes that you can’t, Mr. Potter.”
Severus Snape took his seat at the Head Table and casually flicked open the morning’s copy of the Daily Prophet.
Boy-Who-Lived Vanishes Without Trace
Snape chuckled, considering his newest cauldron acquisition, waiting for him to brew this year’s healing stock. The emerald inlay that sparkled so fetchingly along the sides, interspersed with silvery-white streaks and barely raised forms like sculls… anguish and pleasure intertwined, a heady power just waiting to be tapped.
Minerva glared at him, her eyes red from incessant weeping. He nodded to her and schooled his features.
Boy-Who-Lived Vanishes Without Trace.
Without a trace, indeed.
ETA: Made some changes in the disclaimer and genre.
