Room Enough
Sep. 8th, 2008 12:51 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lesyeuxvertsTitle: Room Enough
Author:![[insanejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/ij-userinfo.gif)
lesyeuxverts
Beta:bewarethesmirk, who is totally awesome (and up late with me, wheee!)
Word Count: 336
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Snape/Filch
Disclaimer: Not mine.
AN: Written forpotteresque_ire … because of something we talked about at Terminus. I forget what exactly (alcohol, LOL) but at least I remembered that I was supposed to write her Snape/Filch!
The broom cupboard was the only place they fit – spine to sternum, back to chest, Snape to Filch. They could have fit together in other places, larger places, but they didn't. Not where anyone could see, not there.
Snape stroked Filch's cock, his fingers curled tight around it, gripping it like a broomstick – hard strokes, sure strokes, smoothed by oil, the way he liked it. The sound of Filch's grunts echoed in the small space, closing in on them.
This was release, relief, redeeming grace – breath against skin, skin against skin, pulse against pulse. Hot and steady, sweaty together – this was what Snape craved, what he needed. It made the world right for a moment, made it small and dark and easy to understand. Easy to work with.
A bucket clattered to the floor when Filch leaned back against Snape, his breath coming in sharp pants, his cock twitching in Snape's hand. Snape froze, but the Silencing spell held. Students passed through the corridor, their voices raised as they argued and hexed and quibbled with each other. Students with their petty problems, unaware of the war around them, innocent ... no, they were no better than anyone else.
In the staff room, there would be biscuits and tea, professors chattering about their classes and the Headmaster presiding over it all, his eyes twinkling. Severus would give Argus a stiff grimace, pretending to tolerate his company on midnight rounds, pretending that both of them hated the students they were forced to care for. In the whole of Hogwarts, there would be pretense after pretense, lie after lie, mask after mask. It never ended.
In the broom cupboard, they were free to use surnames and fuck each other, hard stroke after hard stroke. They were free to ignore names altogether and fuck, flesh against flesh, pressed together into the tight space, pressed up against walls and mops and cobwebs. It was enough … in the broom cupboard, there was room enough for both of them and no more.
Author:
lesyeuxvertsBeta:
bewarethesmirk, who is totally awesome (and up late with me, wheee!)Word Count: 336
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Snape/Filch
Disclaimer: Not mine.
AN: Written for
potteresque_ire … because of something we talked about at Terminus. I forget what exactly (alcohol, LOL) but at least I remembered that I was supposed to write her Snape/Filch!The broom cupboard was the only place they fit – spine to sternum, back to chest, Snape to Filch. They could have fit together in other places, larger places, but they didn't. Not where anyone could see, not there.
Snape stroked Filch's cock, his fingers curled tight around it, gripping it like a broomstick – hard strokes, sure strokes, smoothed by oil, the way he liked it. The sound of Filch's grunts echoed in the small space, closing in on them.
This was release, relief, redeeming grace – breath against skin, skin against skin, pulse against pulse. Hot and steady, sweaty together – this was what Snape craved, what he needed. It made the world right for a moment, made it small and dark and easy to understand. Easy to work with.
A bucket clattered to the floor when Filch leaned back against Snape, his breath coming in sharp pants, his cock twitching in Snape's hand. Snape froze, but the Silencing spell held. Students passed through the corridor, their voices raised as they argued and hexed and quibbled with each other. Students with their petty problems, unaware of the war around them, innocent ... no, they were no better than anyone else.
In the staff room, there would be biscuits and tea, professors chattering about their classes and the Headmaster presiding over it all, his eyes twinkling. Severus would give Argus a stiff grimace, pretending to tolerate his company on midnight rounds, pretending that both of them hated the students they were forced to care for. In the whole of Hogwarts, there would be pretense after pretense, lie after lie, mask after mask. It never ended.
In the broom cupboard, they were free to use surnames and fuck each other, hard stroke after hard stroke. They were free to ignore names altogether and fuck, flesh against flesh, pressed together into the tight space, pressed up against walls and mops and cobwebs. It was enough … in the broom cupboard, there was room enough for both of them and no more.
no subject
Date: 2008-09-08 08:56 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-09-09 10:01 am (UTC)